Four hours of foreign language instruction per day is about two hours more than my brain can handle. Sometimes I just have to slow down the teacher’s relentless conjugation of irregular verbs by asking a stupid question like ‘how do you say, on-fleek in Spanish?’ She’s getting back to me on that.
The little linguistic victories are thrilling. Successfully transacting the purchase of dental floss can make me feel as fluent as Miguel de Cervantes. But trying to learn the proper usage of the pronouns ese, esa, este, esta, estes, estas, esto, estos, aquel, aquella, aquello, aquellas, aquellos seems like something I didn’t leave enough life span to complete.
But when I’m feeling frustrated or low, the frisky little Patagonian Mara never fails to cheer me up. They roam freely in Buenos Aires and though they’re technically very large rodents, I prefer to see them as tiny little donkeys.