Dialects danced across the table, filling the room with opinions and perspectives shaped by experiences in opposite hemispheres. The faces that occupied the small room represented the enormity of the world. Having completed five days of Spanish classes, I met up with a few of the other students for a Friday evening beer. The cohort was comprised of range of personalities and diverse objectives. A few others shared my goal of simply being able to hold a basic conversation to enhance our travels. Others were attending the school for up to six months, hoping to add to their resumes in the pursuit of careers in translation and foreign affairs.
My first day of school began with a test, as it does for all new students. It didn’t take the examiners long to mark the few responses I managed to scrawl. Expectedly, I was welcomed into the beginner class along with one other student, Floortge. Flo was from the Netherlands and had just commenced her travels through South America. Over the five days that we shared an afternoon class, we introduced ourselves countless times and repeatedly learned the names of each others’ family members and pets.
The classes ran from 2.30 – 6.30pm each day. The first two hours were taught by Desiree or, as she preferred, Dessy, who was hilarious. She laughed ecstatically at her own jokes and took great pleasure in the use of various Spanish idioms. However, her most defining feature was her ability to incorporate Antonio Banderas and his movies into her teaching examples. Whenever the letter ‘Z’ was required, she would would strike the shape of the character through the air, ‘like Antonio Banderas in ‘The Mask of Zorro’, no?’. If the topic of dancing was ever broached, she would strike a pose ‘like Antonio Banderas in ‘Take the Lead’, no?’. In addition to her obsession with the Spanish movie star and his most famed roles, Dessy was responsible for developing our vocabulary and the use of verbs for various subjects.
The second half of the afternoon classes was taken by the most experienced professor at the school, Rodolfo. Despite his seniority, and beneath his thick grey hair, Rodolfo possessed a wicked, youthful sense of humour. There were no references to Antonio Banderas in his classes. Instead, conversational examples revolved around drinking beer and chasing girls. Whilst these topics often brought laughter to the table, it was not a true reflection of Rodolfo’s gentle, compassionate character. Living alone with his three cats and regularly Skyping his best friend Linda who lives in Canada, I quickly got the impression that courting numerous women in Cusco’s bars was not a high priority for the real Rodolfo. In addition, he was never without his coffee mug in hand, which read ‘I just want to drink coffee and wear sweatpants’.
Our time with Rodolfo was spent putting the theory from Dessy’s lessons into practice. It was an effective, albeit exhausting, method. Leaving the school each night at 6.30pm, mentally drained, I would slowly wander the narrow roads illuminated by the orange glow of streetlights, back to the hostel to cook fresh vegetables from the market and do my homework.
Given my brief stint at the school, I also enrolled in private lessons. These hour-long sessions occurred each morning of the week. The teacher, Liliana, was a softly spoken, ever smiling young woman who split her time between the language school and her class of 40 kindergarten students at a local primary school. With only five sessions together, Dessy had briefed Liliana to help me develop a vocabulary for ‘survival’. Each morning, the hour would pass in a blink, during which the whiteboard would be filled with new words, helping to fill the gaps and silences in our conversations.
During the week in Cusco studying Spanish, it became increasingly obvious how convoluted and difficult the English language can be. It is a simple revelation but most definitely one that I will work with to enhance my own teaching of students from non-English backgrounds.
I certainly didn’t approach my five days of school with the expectation of fluency at the completion of the week. I simply wanted to gain some understanding and comprehension of the language which surrounds me. Conversation brings connection, which in turn enables closeness, compassion and empathy. Whilst my speaking still carries a staccato rhythm, I am ecstatic with how much more I can understand hen listening to people talk. This new skill has enabled me to eavesdrop with a vengeance, but I am sure it will also transpire to some deeper connections with people I meet on the road south.
The walk to school
Reflecting on the days that I spent in Cusco, they all appear remarkably similar. I frequented the same café each morning, sitting in the same seat drinking the same coffee order, whilst overlooking the street below. I developed a fondness of the same route to school, which took me sat familiar faces be they human or canine. I learnt which cobbled steps to avoid due to their disproportionate slipperiness. The routine, structure and development of a sense of place was energising.
During my stay at Sunset Hostel, I met a swath of interesting folk. Alistair, a baby-faced English musician arrived partway through the week. He had just finished another summer of performances for wealthy super yacht owners in the south of France. Before commencing his winter gigs in the French Alps, he was in Peru to partake in week long ayahuasca retreat in the Sacred Valley. I also got to know Vicki, a young, somewhat introverted German girl who had been travelling for a year of which 8 months had been spent volunteering at the hostel. In addition to her night shifts on the front desk, Vicki worked in two other cafes in town. I never witnessed it, but I’m sure she slept at some point during her days. In her ‘spare time’ she would bake cakes, muffins, biscuits and other various creations which she old sell via an honesty system in the hostel kitchen. Returning home to a sweet treat also became a pivotal part of my daily routine.
Another German girl, Lara, was also staying at the hostel whilst taking a week of Spanish lessons at another language school in the area. Over the course of numerous chats during the week, we discovered even more similarities between our travel plans and lives in general. She had also began her trip in Colombia, a week after I arrived, and is also flying out of Santiago on the exact same day that I am scheduled to return home. However, the most bizarre ‘seven-degrees of separation’ moment came when discussing Australia. She told me that she had spent six-months in Melbourne on exchange when she was in year 10. As it turns out, she had attended Brunswick Secondary College in 2011. I began working there during whilst completing my Masters of Teaching, in 2012. We shared our memories, respectfully, of the various staff members. The beauty of conversation.
Thanks for reading.
Faults and Folds 