I wish my Spanish teacher wasn’t so good looking. I mean, that’s not entirely true, but when you’re trying to learn another language it’s difficult enough without Sofía Vergara in the room, let alone teaching you. I’ve had two classes now and I think I will request a class change. My Spanish will thank me later, other parts of me, maybe not.
Outside of class, tourists have mistaken me as a local on three occasions now. I’m not sure what resemblance a half Asian boy with a Kathmandu backpack shares with a full-blooded Spaniard, but nonetheless I play my part, scowling and replying, ‘Que? No hablo inglés,’ to reflect the warm and pleasant help I have received thus far when asking strangers for assistance. I feel very Spanish when I do this. Like I am a part of the country, and it feels good. I know it’s false, but to me it’s more genuine than letting them down by saying, ‘Sorry, mate, you’ve got an Aussie.’ I am cautious of the day I play ‘local’ to the tourists, only to be replied to in fluent Español. I think I will just run away very quickly if it happens. I am a fast runner.
Anyway, right now it’s 2.30am, I’m sick (with the Spanish influenza), and there is a rooster cuckooing outside my window. Maybe he is jet lagged too. The other roosters are probably thinking, oh no, there goes Pablo again; he never knows what time to cuckoo. Then someone in the pen, maybe a lady chicken, might say, ‘You know Pablo can’t help it, he’s not like us.’ And the other roosters would sigh and bury their heads in their feathers, letting Pablo cuckoo at his special time.
Pablo aside, I’m starting to become a true Au Pair. I know this because I won’t leave the house without wet wipes and tissues to blow the noses of the little boys I look after. Prior to this, I left the house without them, and it proved to be a terrible oversight, if you consider someone blowing their nose on your favourite t-shirt to be terrible. I do.
So I’m gently starting to adjust to everything, and right now Pablo isn’t helping, but he isn’t not helping either. He’s just annoying, and I’m sick, and I want to go to sleep. Please shut the cluck up, Pablo.