Learning Spanish like a local in La Ceiba, Honduras

Author’s note: This post is part of my series on my recent trip to Honduras. To read past posts on Honduras, click here.

Finding the right program abroad can prove to be a daunting task. I searched countless hours on the Internet but after the trip to Honduras I realized my mistake. I was searching for volunteer opportunities not spanish language schools. Little did I know that almost every language school offers volunteer opportunities alongside their program. Had I searched under spanish schools, I would have found lots of options. In retrospect, everything worked out more than fine. It just took me a roundabout way to find my school, Centro Internacional de Idiomas. Next time, I’ll know the back way in and do it differently.

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In route to the Mainland

Author’s note: This post is part of my series on my recent trip to Honduras. To read past posts on Honduras, click here.

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When I arrived at the ferry station and saw my fellow passengers, it was the first real indication that Roatan and the mainland of Honduras were worlds apart. Unlike the jam-packed United Airlines flight from Houston loaded with passengers dressed in their country club best, 98% of the ferry passengers were Honduran. I was the only blond-haired blue-eyed person on the entire ship of a couple hundred people.

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Spanish class on the road

For anyone who knows me or has gotten to know me by reading my blog, it is obvious that I am one who doesn’t like to sit around. I have boundless energy at points that tends to get a little out of whack if I am not moving. I am not good at sitting still. This can be both good and bad. The good is that I’m not a couch potato; instead I am an extremely active and energetic person who can get things done at breakneck speed. The bad is that I really don’t know how to relax and tend to wear myself out to the bones.

Someday, when I’m not so busy raising a family and doing a million things in a day, I will work on gaining more balance in my life. I will take up yoga, learn to sit still and sleep better without jumping out of my bed each morning. But until then, I must deal with the cards I’ve been dealt with and face the facts: I’m kind of hyper.

Given my spirited temperament, you can only imagine how difficult it was for me to be in a new country sitting in a one on one spanish class for five straight hours. I absolutely love to learn but five intense hours holed up in a small room, seated at a desk is not my cup of tea. Thus, when my dedicated and loyal teacher Lili told me about her approach to learning on the road, I was thrilled. This is how it worked.

Leaving Casa Xelaju and taking our class on a road trip…

CULTURE

Spanish crash course 101: How to speak Spanish like the Guatemalans do (Part 1)

View of Xela from the school roof.

I woke up to the sound of the eternally barking dog outside my window, wondering for a moment where on earth I was.  I checked my cheap plastic travel watch and it read 6:50 am.  The sun had yet to light up my bedroom and I was exhausted after a fitful night’s sleep.  I tossed and turned, continually stuffed in my ear plugs and cranked my white noise up yet nothing seemed to help drown out the symphony of noise from the Guatemalan city life.  Unfortunately I’ve always been a light sleeper which got worse after I became a mother.  I swear I sleep with one eye open, listening throughout the darkness of the night for someone to call my name.

My first day at Spanish school was in a little over an hour and I was so tired I had no idea how I’d function, let alone function in another language which I hardly understood.  When I turned off my white noise the sounds of a bustling kitchen filled the room.  I inhaled the delightful aroma of fresh Guatemalan cooking.  Breakfast would not be long.

I slowly cracked opened the door and shyly peered outside.  My room for the week was right next to the kitchen and the family-shared bathroom.  I was still in my PJs in an unfamiliar house with unfamiliar people.  I wasn’t ready to go tramping out the door in plain view of my Guatemalan hosts!  That I reserve for only close friends!

When the coast was clear I made a run for the bathroom and brushed my teeth in a glass of purified water.  There was no way I was going to risk getting another parasite like I did in Costa Rica!  Thus I took every precaution given to me by the travel clinic seriously.  I avoided fresh fruits and vegetables.  Did not drink the water, and brushed my teeth as well only with the bottled stuff.  I flipped on the strange looking shower and got ready to jump in, thinking how good it will feel to wash my hair after a long day of travel.  Maybe the hot water would even wake me up and make me feel better!  I needed any kind of pick me up to start my day in another tongue.

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Lost in Translation: My first night in Xela

The moment Luis Enrique rung the doorbell to the tall, green house my stomach dropped in anticipation. What would they be like, my host family for the week? Would they speak any English? Or would they understand my Rosetta Stone beginner level Spanish? Would the house be comfortable? Would I feel awkward and uncomfortable? All these thoughts loomed my head as I waited and waited for the door to open. It felt like an eternity.

Finally after a couple more rings, the door opened. I secretly gave a sigh of relief. I was tired, dirty and hungry. Plus I was eager to meet my new host family who I had heard all about from Ms. May, my son’s school teacher back home who runs the exchange program for Casa Xelaju.

The door creaked open and a dog barked. A young man answered the door and some words were exchanged briefly in gunfire Spanish. All I understood was “Nicole” (my name), “si” and “uno momento por favor”. I entered the dark house to silence and pulling in my enormous red suitcase. I was told to wait there for a moment in the long, narrow hallway, and there I stood for another five minutes waiting for the matron of the house.

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Spanish Immersion 101: Home stay in Xela, Guatemala

Author’s note: This post was originally published on March 16, 2012. For some reason, it had attracted daily spam comments for one year straight so I moved it to drafts. I’m experimenting now by republishing the post to see if the crazy spanners from all across the world find it again. I enjoyed this post and want to keep it on my blog as it documents my week doing a home stay and Spanish immersion in Guatemala. Here it goes again! 

I arrived in Quetzaltenango, or simply called Xela (pronounced “Shay-la”), as the sun was setting across the lush, volcanic valley.  I was exhausted from the day’s travels and the total immersion into a new country with a new language as a solo traveler.  It had been a long time since I’d traveled completely alone.  Yes, I had spent a few days alone here and there before my previous volunteer trips in Morocco (April 2011) and Costa Rica (April 2010) the past two springs.  Yet, I was always welcomed a few days later by an entire volunteer crew of English speaking friends.   This time was different.

I would be spending the week in Xela, Guatemala’s second largest city, in a home stay with a local family.  There would be no english spoken whatsoever and I had never met them before.  All I knew were their names and their address.  That was it.

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