Uno, dos, tres, cuatro, cinco, PUNTO!

This evening the school offered flamenco lessons for the cultural class. I was there a couple of minutes late, but everyone else was later. Since being in Madrid, I've noticed that time is a suggestion. Everything we've been to, with the exception of a basilica tour, has started ten-twenty minutes late. I am not complaining at all -- for those who know me, promptness is not always my forte. The coffee shop downstairs says on the menu that it opens at 8:00 AM. I went downstairs at 8:05 with a book. The coffee shop was not open until 8:35. I still had enough time to have a divine espresso 'para llevar.'

My attitude going into class this morning was positive. There is a sense of camaraderie with me and my five other classmates. Everything is still very difficult. Today I found myself not hearing people when I am being spoken to in Spanish, even by my instructors and those whom I am living with in the apartment. This is concerning for me since I am here to learn how to communicate in this language. Sitting in class today, I was so glad that there isn't a test.

Cultural class starts at 19:00. There were sixteen students ranging in age from their late teens to a woman in her sixties. We chicas outnumbered the guys, but at least we had an even number. My dancing partner was Alessandra from Rome, Italy. She is taking the most advanced language class -- literature. Her English is perfect.

The dance lesson was conducted solely in Spanish, like every other class. However, I felt so much more confident in this lesson. There was an actual model of what was expected of us, and if we messed up it was immediately apparent either by being off beat, by being the one going the wrong way, or stepping on a foot. These are things that are easy to correct. The dancing is a clumsy I can work through -- the feedback loop on how to fix mistakes is short; instantaneous.

The conversational clumsy is not so easy.

During the day as I am responding to a question in Spanish and mentally grappling with translating the Spanish words I am hearing to the English I know, and concentrating on how to construct it verbally, the person I am attempting to communicate with does one of two things: quickly convert the conversation to English, or if it is at the school, just look at me. Or, tell me in Spanish what to correct in Spanish. More often than not I feel that my progress is dubious. When I am corrected at school I seldom understand why what I said was wrong.