Lingo Learning

One of the delights of living in Spain is absorbing the culture, which is much easier if one is able to speak the language. To this end I’d been wandering the streets, listening to language CDs and startling passers-by with badly pronounced phrases. The main drawback with this type of learning is lack of practise in everyday conversation. When my husband and I heard that our local council provides free grammar and conversation classes it seemed too good an opportunity to miss.

Derek and I duly signed up. The classes are held twice a week and the teacher doesn’t speak a word of English. It’s hard going, but we are gradually improving.

A little old lady, who has clearly never attempted a foreign language before, joined our class for a couple of weeks. She hadn’t taken any other lessons, but was certain that she’d soon pick up the lingo. In the meantime she hadn’t a clue about what was being said and her difficulties in understanding were compounded by being deaf in one ear.

The class descended into chaos on her first day. Ángel, the teacher, asked her, in Spanish, to tell us her name and a little about herself.

She responded, “Eh, what did he say?” and looked around for someone to translate.

“He asked your name,” explained one of the more fluent speakers.

“Well, why didn’t he say so?” She turned to the front and said: “Muriel.”

“En español, por favor,” asked Ángel.

“What did he say?” she asked again.

“He wants you to tell him your name in Spanish.”

She looked completely bewildered, turned back to the bemused teacher and said: “I don’t know what it is in Spanish; I’ve always been called Muriel.”

The hour couldn’t come to an end soon enough for the man Muriel now depended on for enlightenment. But it was a totally shell-shocked Ángel who bore most signs of stress. He may not have known any English at the start of the hour, but he very quickly learned the meaning of: “Eh? What’s that? Speak up, I can’t hear you.”

At the next session it was clear that Muriel had done some homework. Regardless of what she was asked, her response was the same. In Spanish she said I am English and don’t speak Spanish.

Midway through the session Ángel disappeared into the small anteroom next to the main class on the pretext of making some photocopies. After a few moments the telltale odour of tobacco drifted across the class – clearly he’d needed some form of stress reducer.

Ángel decided that using the blackboard to get his message across might be more productive. He made statements and then wrote the words on the board. Sadly, that was the breaking point for Muriel.

“Why’s he writing in Spanish?” she asked in an aggrieved voice. “I can’t read Spanish!”

No words of ours would convince her that learning the language would be easier if she could read it as well as speak it. After only a couple more sessions Muriel decided that speaking in foreign was not for her. She wished Ángel all the best in hearty English and hung up her books.

Since she stopped coming our Spanish has improved at a much faster rate than it would have done had she continued to attend, but, for most of us, it is far less enjoyable and nowhere near as funny.

In fact, the only exceptions are Ángel and Muriel’s reluctant interpreter. Ángel is a man transformed, teaching with a new zest, and the interpreter has almost lost the nervous tic he’d so recently acquired.
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About the Author

Lorraine Mace is the humour columnist for Writing Magazine and a competition judge for Writers’ Forum. She is a tutor for the Writers Bureau, and is the author of the Writers Bureau course, Marketing Your Book. She is also co-author, with Maureen Vincent-Northam of The Writer’s ABC Checklist (Accent Press). Lorraine runs a private critique service for writers (details on her website). She is the founder of the Flash 500 competitions covering flash fiction, humour verse and novel openings.

Writing as Frances di Plino, she is the author of crime/thriller, Bad Moon Rising.

Lorraine’s website: www.lorrainemace.com
Writing competitions website: www.flash500.com
Frances di Plino blog: