Posts Tagged school
En La Academia
Posted by Delaney in Argentina, Buenos Aires on August 20th, 2009
En La Academia Buenos Aires.
The fourth floor of a giant old building about a block away from La Plaza de Mayo. It consists of a courtyard/lightwell surrounded by a dozen or so small classrooms. My classroom (at least thus far) has been on the mezzanine level, behind those dark glass panels on the right.
The coffee is very strong, almost Turkish. But it does the trick.
I forget how to say “It’s Raining”
Posted by Delaney in Argentina, Buenos Aires on August 19th, 2009
And they’re playing Whitesnake at the cafe.
“And I made up my mind, I ain’t wasting no more time. Here I go again.”
Que loco mundo, no?
The second day of class came and went. I can’t tell you how good it is to have a little bit of productive human interaction in one’s life. My teacher Cecilia says I’m a good student, but I have a feeling it might be a situation like that of our beginning ski instructor, in which every student they have is the single best student they’ve encountered. It’s going well, though, and challenging. But I’m learning a lot, and promptly forgetting it.
I really like the Norwegians. I see them as kids (they’re probably 23 or 24), but they know a hell of a lot more about traveling in foreign countries than I do. I’m actually bummed that they’re leaving in a few days. Hopefully the new kids that move in speak un poco de ingles, tambien.
Also, the catarro situation is almost resolved. You’ll be happy to know that the graphic scenario that had evolved concerning my lungs and nasal region has come and gone, and I’m only a bit congested and slightly pink around the edges. To my great relief. I ran like a champ yesterday with no ill effects.
They’re going to kick me out pretty soon (I finished my hamburguesa a long time ago), so I’ll leave it at that, but as soon as we have access al casa, I’ll post a couple more pictures.
Chau (this is how we spell it).
Dia Uno
Posted by Delaney in Buenos Aires on August 13th, 2009
I arrived.
FYI, running the gauntlet through the guys selling taxi rides into the city at the EZE airport is brutal. One particularly zealous fellow followed me around for a while until I convinced him that I’d really like to take the bus instead, at which point he told me that if that was the case, I should really try standing at a spot at which the bus might pick me up, not a random point in front of the airport.
Which I did, and promptly missed my bus. Luckily, they come along every 45 minutes, So I waited, and caught the right bus (!), and rode it for a couple hours from the apocolyptic edge of town into the very microcenter of town, where my apartment and school are located.
Silvia the cleaning lady let me into my apartment and chatted away with me for awhile before I was able to use my first sentence in Spanish, “No intiendo entiendo.” It didn’t really seem to stop her. I did thank her profusely, though, for everything, and even made a little praying hands bow when she left to show my gratitude.
And then I went to find the school to take a Spanish aptitude test (which I failed). And then I got lost trying to make my way home, but found myself again after an hour or so. And then I took a nap.
And then I wrote the first of many many phenomenally interesting blog entries.
Yours Truly.
Edit 8/15/09: “Entiendo.” Thanks, Steph
- Steph on End Notes
- Delaney on Pink is the Best
- Martin Krupka on Pink is the Best
- Tyler on Not Kidnapped
- Sister on Not Kidnapped
