There was a scary first day of school feel about this morning.
We left at 8am, after collecting the sandwiches Maria had prepared and walked to school in time for lessons at 8.30.
The tuition is all one-on-one which is great because it meant my teacher, Maribel, could start with the idiot stuff for me.
She seemed a little thrown by my tiny family (she’s one of eight) and she did ask lots and lots of questions about my home life.
When I eventually admitted, in my very broken Spanish, to being a journalist she asked if I would be writing about the lessons.
I confessed about this blog and she chuckled away for a few minutes, before switching to English.
“Make sure you write on your blog that you told me you had 27 buttocks,” she cried.
Hmmph. It turns out that años (years) is pronounced ‘anyos’ and not ‘anos’ because everyone knows ‘anos’ is Spanish for buttocks.
I’m trying desperately to remember if I’ve told anyone else my age.
Maribel was pretty good though and practical.
She’s set me loads and loads of adjectives to learn – including ‘blonde’ and ‘curly hair’ – because she says those are the words the kids will use most.
I’ve also got some exercises to do at home, which I’ll probably do after dinner – it is just like being back at school. I even have a desk in my room.
Before then though I’ve got a lecture on Ecuadorian history – what a geek.
Still, it’s better than tomorrow because tomorrow is the first salsa lesson.
The thought fills me with horror.