My Spanish maestra Clarita and I have developed a bit of a love-hate relationship during my first two weeks og classes. She loves to tease me for beng a tacaño Scotsman, and I hate all the homework she gives me.
During my first lesson a fortnight ago, I made the fatal mistake of telling my teacher that the stereotypical Scotsman is extremely mean with his money. As a result, everything I now do in Clarita's eyes is because I am a mean, tacaño Scotsman.When I refill my bottle of water at the school, it is because I am a tacaño Scotsman and don't want to fork out buying a new bottle (of course, the real reason is because I am being environmentally conscious, as everyone that is aware of my green credentials would testify). Similarly, when I eat a slice of banana bread that the school coordinators wife has baked during the 'pausa' midway through the afternoon lessons, it is because I am a tacaño Scotsman that wants to fill up my stomach on free school food so I don't have to pay for my own. And when it starts pouring down when I am at the school and I have forgotten to bring my plastic poncho, it is because I am a tacaño Scotsman that doesn't want to spend money on an umbrella and would rather get soaked in the rain. Apparently, I am only slightly less tacaño than the many Israelis that visit Guatemala, and that have created an unfavourable stereotype for themselves in San Pedro by always asking if they can pay less than the advertised price for everything, including food, hotel rooms and even spanish classes.
Fortunately, Clarita isn't getting things all her own way. Guatemala being an ex-colony of Spain, I have been taking great delight in reminding my maestra at every opportunity that Spain is still in the World Cup whilst Guatemala came nowhere near to going to South Africa (fortunately, she has not yet asked about the Scottish national team), and using the fact that there are differences in how Spanish is spoken in Latin America and in Spain as an excuse whenever I make a mistake, telling my teacher that I am only doing things the way they are done in the "proper" Spanish spoken in España.
Clarita's sense of humour and ability to talk the hind legs of a Guatemalan burro make for highly enjoyable classes, and I am already realising that I have been extremely fortunate to get her as my maestra at the Co-Operative of Guatemalan Spanish Teachers. During my first week in the school, one of the other students asked for a new maestro as he wasn't happy with the Mexican teacher he had been allocated, and last week, Kelly the new American in my homestay also asked to switch maestros as the one she had been given was apparently showing signs of boredom with her slow progress at learning Spanish. Meanwhile, in between my own steady progress in improving my Spanish, I am winding up my teacher by telling her she doesn't speak proper Spanish and that I am thinking about buying a Mexican Football top (Mexico is the Guatemalteco equivalents of England for Scots), and she is taking the mickey out of me for being a Scottish Shylock, which of course I vehemently deny.
At the moment, I have two more weeks of classes booked, however I may well extend by another week or two beyond this, because everything is really cheap in Guatemala and I don't have to spend much money I am keen to further improve my Spanish before I start heading south to Panama.
A tacaño Scotsman trying to conjugate a present subjunctive verb
Maestra Clarita scorning derisorily as she reviews my latest attempt to conjugate a present subjunctive verb
