B
eing able to speak another language is pretty amazing. I'm sure I've written about this before, but at thirty years old, I was pretty sure I was going to be a monoglot my entire life. But now, Elena's parents are in town, and I've been speaking more Spanish than English for almost a week. It's funny how simple it feels once you're in it -- at this point, though I get a little lost in conversation from time to time, and I stumble over certain constructions, I can just hear all of the separations between the words, and I assume everyone else can hear them as well. But, I remember when I first went to Guatemala just how impossible it seemed to understand anything, how it all just merged into impossible-to-follow gobbledegook, and it's clear I've come a looong way from there.
Some things feel cool to know how to do, while other things that look cool from a distance just feel normal and banal once you accomplish them. I wonder what the difference is? Where the line gets drawn?