Pull the aluminum lever to release the oregano

I have been informed that I speak English in a funny way. I say thir-dy, instead of thirty, and I say carrrr instead of "cah" or eraser instead of "rubber". This Friday night I was out with my Australian friend Erin and her British roommate, Emma. Even though all three of us speak the same language, we were having trouble communicating. Though Australia and Britain are worlds away, for some reason I ended up being the odd one out. I was asked to say the sentence "Pull the aluminee-um leever to release the oreGAHno" just so they could laugh at how I say the words. I am constantly saying "huh"? whenever Erin says something because she will use words that I don't know, or say it in a way I am not used to. I tell her that my ear is not tuned to the linguistic patterns of Australian English and she says that I am lazy or deaf. But being around so much English that isn't American, I realize that it is starting to permeate my vocabulary. The other day I was walking down Gran Vía, a pretty large thoroughfare in downtown Madrid, and I saw a huge line going out of a business. I asked myself "what are they queueing up for?" Other words I am starting to use are: dodgy instead of sketchy, trousers instead of pants, trainers instead of tennis shoes, underground instead of subway...but one that I am resisting is using rubber intead of eraser. THAT I will never use.

It is interesting to talk to people who are native Spanish speakers about learning English and different accents. In Spain, everyone learns British English so the teacher I work with, Ramon, tells me it is easier to understand the accent, and he also thinks it sounds more intelligent (I guess if you compare Tony Blair to George Bush, our accent doesn't really hold up). When I talk to my friends from Central and South America they are more in tune to American English, since there is an abundance of television programs and products from the States. My friend from El Salvador was joking around about how snobby British English sounds. I guess it all depends on what you are used to, because to me, Spanish from México is way easier to understand, and I tend to make fun of the Spain Spanish accent (when I am not around Spaniards, jaja).

The other week Alena, the other auxiliar (assistant) at my school, took me to get our paychecks cashed at the Ibercaja bank. We took a different way back to school, and she showed me the makeshift gypsy community that is located on the slope running from the school to the highway. It looked like something straight out of the outskirts of DF, México City. Wooden boards slapped together with metal sheets as roofs, and garbage littered everywhere. It looked semi-abandoned, except for the kids toys strewn about in the grass and weeds. Alena says that the government is in the process of razing the favela (Portuguese for shanty town). Apparently a couple of our students live down there so I am not sure what is going to happen to them.

Last week with my third grade class I did a class activity to learn the difference between a "map" and a "plan". I had them draw a plan of their bedroom and label everything in it. I noticed that one of the students, Agustín, wasn't doing the activity, and was sitting there half covering his paper. I then realized that maybe he didn't have his own room...or maybe he didn't have a home. This is something I am ultra sensitive to in the States, since we had a few students from Ethiopia who lived in a shelter. But being here around a lot of kids who live pretty comfortably, the idea had slipped my mind. So I had to modify the activity a bit to include any room...maybe your classroom, or the "comedor" (the lunchroom).

Next up: Learning how to make El Salvadoran pupusas (like Mexican sopes stuffed with black refried beans)