My host family is great: Luciano is probably the nicest man ever and in this unconventional arrangement, he is a fantastic stay-at-home grandpa/dad and cook; Angela is quite spirited to say the least and once in a while I get a kick out of her picking on people (like the "gordos", aka fat people on tv); Najwa, the 9 yr old granddaughter is really cute and quite the motormouth; Rocio, the 25 yr old daughter who still lives at home while going to school and working, is really friendly; Abdullah and Esperanza, Najwa's parents, are nice....
Yet there are a few other members of the 'family'. The OTHER host students.
First, it was Tai Chi (and, yes, I am sure his name really is not the martial art, but that is how we all said it). He didn't really speak Spanish and frequently responded to questions with "OK" or "BIEN" and a big thumbs up. He did speak a little bit of English, so we talked a few times and I learned that he is an engineering student in Japan who studied in Seattle for a semester and is going to India this summer. He was really nice, but I must say the language barrier that I witnessed was more like a brick wall that he ran into face-first. And I had a front row seat. As I mentioned previously, they cut all of the skin off of their fruit, which was new to me and apparently new to Tai Chi as well. As he was working on a pear one evening in an elaborate cutting pattern like a spiral, Luciano told him to be careful for his fingers when he got to the bottom (in Spanish, of course). Tai Chi, who was holding his pear at the bottom and had already cut off the top stem and skin, looked at Luciano, smiled, and took the biggest bite of his pear from the top where the stem once was. I am sure I am not doing justice to the hilarity of the situation. I started laughing uncontrollably and had to excuse myself from the table after a good 10 minutes of hysterics. Tai Chi never ate a pear again, and when I returned from a weekend excursion he had gone back to Japan and I began to feel at ease at the dinner table once more.
The next three months passed without any other students, but at the end of May I was informed that two Americans were coming. Luciano informed me, in awe, that they were from Texas but strangely spoke no Spanish and must not be Mexican. I'm not sure where he got this stereotype from, but I guess 23 years of hosting students maybe brings that on. Anyways, when I returned from Menorca, there they were at the dinner table. Luciano was right, they did not speak Spanish. Joshua said he took a few classes in Jr. High and Tony said that he had never learned it. I spent that first dinner translating for them and feeling pretty good that they thought I was fluent despite my stuttering. (I must say this "you will achieve fluency while abroad" lie needs to be stopped. I have been here almost 5 months and am still waiting to wake up sounding (and hopefully looking) like Penelope Cruz.) Anyways, after guiding them on an unsuccessful laundromat adventure and a couple of weeks of translations, I feel like a bonafide Spanish genius. I am very relieved to see them eat pears the American way so there is no room for error. (Yes, they eat them SKIN and all, and Angela and Luciano say NOTHING!... I knew I should've tried that.) And alas, it takes a little pressure off of me at the dinner table, though I never really spoke anyways.
Please note, (DAD) that I will be bringing home a picture of my host family and maybe even Josh and Tony, if you are lucky. Unfortunately Tai Chi has faded into the sunset and is now more myth than man in my mind: the legend of the pear.
I have been informed that along with my passport, this photo is necessary for my readmittance into the USA. Since I am quite ready to return, I don't want to risk being sent back...
