Si, lo hablo

Jonathan:

I distinctly remember a conversation I had with a friend only a few weeks before we left on this trip in which I boldly stated that I was on the verge of being conversational in Spanish. I'm not really sure where I got that idea - Maybe it was my impressive ability to fluidly ask where the bathroom was, or my deep knowledge of Spanish numbers and colors that gave me my confidence. I can't be sure. Regardless, It took me less than three weeks of traveling through northern Mexico to discover the vast reality of complex grammar and idiomatic nuances that my 2 years of high school Spanish had somehow failed to touch on.

 

When we decided to enroll in classes in Guanajuato 6 months ago, I genuinely thought that two weeks of studying would be just the kick-start we would need to propel ourselves into a frenzy of high-octane learning on the street - I thought we'd be fluent in no time. Well, it turned out that two weeks were barely enough time for me to learn how to say "the more I learn, the more I realize I don't know" (Mientras más aprendo, más sé lo que no sé)... and I meant it.

 

When I look back on the roller coaster ride of confidence and self-doubt that both Megan and I have been through with learning Spanish over the past 7 months, I can't help but smile. Each school experience has propelled our grasp of the language to new levels of depth and complexity, while at the same time shedding light on overwhelming tracts of unexplored territory. It's been hard to measure our progress because with every milestone we reach, the finish line seems to slip further off into the distance. Days of confident in-depth conversation are almost always followed by days where we barely understand what we've just ordered.

 

I've heard that there are several tell-tale signs of being fluent in a new language - when you start thinking or dreaming in it, or when you start to understand jokes. Normally when people ask me if I speak Spanish, I respond with one of several rehearsed responses like, "well, I speak a little," or "we're still learning." These simple responses are usually enough to solicit an enthusiastic nod of approval and sometimes a comment or two that I can't quite catch.

Somewhere in the north of Peru however, I noticed a distinct change in myself. Lately when someone asks if I speak Spanish, for some reason I've simply been saying, "yes. I do." It's not something I started doing on purpose, but the shift in self-perception feels significant. I'm certainly not dreaming in Spanish yet, so I'm not sure where this milestone fits into the quest to be fluent. We will probably continue to have our ups and downs, good days and bad, but for the first time since we left home the horizon seems to be creeping closer.

After a couple of brief sightseeing stops in Lima and Nazca on our way south, we've just completed our first week of studying Spanish in Cusco, Peru. So far we've both been having a fabulous experience with the program, and our latest local "family." Our conversations are becoming more fluid each day, and I have no doubt that from here on it will only become more comfortable to say, "Si, lo hablo."

 

 

 

Such great heights

Megan:
Almost all of our time since our last post has been filled exploring the natural beauty of the Peruvian Andes. About a week and a half ago, we arrived in Huaraz, Peru which has served as our base camp for exploring the stunning Parque Nacional Huascarán. After checking into one of the most beautiful and well-kept hotels of our trip, we set out to explore this high-altitude backpacker haven. We spent some time talking to a few tour companies and other travelers about various trails and decided to tackle the famous 4-day Santa Cruz trek in the Cordillera Blanca mountain range. We were accompanied by our guide Marco, six other eager travelers with varying levels of wilderness experience, and four triumphant donkeys (Blanca, Carlos, Daniel and Pancho).

The scenery in the Cordillera Blanca was jaw-dropping to say the least. Our days were filled hiking through immense valleys of golden grasses, traversing rivers and climbing closer and closer to the glaciers that soar 20,000 ft above. This was the first time I had seen a glacier, and let me tell you, these magnificent towers of ice and rock created a very different feeling for me than any other mountain landscape I'd seen. The sheer contrast of jet-black rock with blueish-white ice and snow was breathtaking. We spent our second afternoon watching the lighting and clouds that surrounded the highest peak continually change. The scenery just kept getting more beautiful, until the sun lit up the clouds with the last of the day's warmth as it slipped behind the ridge and darkness took over.

Our highest pass of 15,500 ft was enveloped in clouds by the time we reached the top - creating a kind of unknown abyss on the opposite side of the ridge as we began to work our way down. Our next campsite at 14,000 ft. actually felt comfortable and sheltered after being face to face with the rugged glaciers above.

When we were not out experiencing the natural beauty of this area, we were enjoying the comforts of our hotel bed...not so much by choice, but more out of necessity. That's right, Jon and I took turns with a stomach bug, but luckily these latest episodes were relatively minor and well-timed - mine was before our trek and Jon's was after we returned. I am pleased to report that today we are both feeling 'normal,' so I think the worst of it is behind us.

It's a little difficult to say goodbye to such a beautiful mountain backdrop, but tomorrow night we'll be boarding a bus for Lima, the bustling capital of Peru. We're ready to see what this city has to offer, even though I expect it will be a pretty stark contrast to the rugged natural beauty we've come to love here.