So, the Spanish are wimps, made thus by their mild Mediterranean weather. If it so much as drops a degree or spits a little rain, they scurry from car to building to bus in oversized coats and don’t show up to my class, blaming their lack of attendance on “the terrible weather.” Puleeze.
Yesterday it rained lightly on and off all day and therefore, the streets were full of fast-paced, sad-faced Iberians….and my classroom was void of anyone. I would have killed for just one mopey Spaniard. Then at 10 minutes past 7, three of my most advanced students, Laura, Gloria and Veronica, showed up and proved just how hardcore they were about learning English. You go girls.
The topics on my lesson plan included:
~ Vocabulary: preparing for and taking a flight, phrasal verbs of travel
~ Grammar: modal verbs for speculation
~ Skills: listening to people’s descriptions of their real and dream vacations
(I know I should stop. You’re getting excited just reading this, aren’t you? You only wish you were one of my sopping-wet Spanish students!)
So just to warm up and build vocab, we started with a discussion of trips we’ve taken and the cultural differences we encountered….and that pretty much put an end to my lesson plan. These chicks are soooo worldly, genius and funny that we ended up talking about cultural differences (and then some) for 2 hours and 15 minutes….and the class usually only lasts 2 hours.
Results of the conversation:
1. The British and French consider the reverse peace sign (two fingers held up with the nails facing away from you) as equivalent with the middle finger. Where did this gesture derive its meaning from? I learned last week that way back when, French archers were a major thorn in the British backside. One requires both of these fingers to shoot a bow, and thus, when the British would capture French archers, they would cut these two fingers off. So, when the French would see the British, they would wag these 2 fingers at them, thereby saying, “Eat it, buddy. I’ve got my fingers and would shoot you full of arrows right now if I had a bow…and some arrows.”
2. The word “vaccination” is derived from the latin “vaca” for “cow” (which is also the Spanish word). During the smallpox plague-age in Europe, a British dude noted that milkmaids never got smallpox and deduced that by being exposed to the human-harmless cowpox, they were becoming immune to the deadly disease. So, like a true gentleman, he would make big cuts in people’s arms, toss in a few wads of cow pox puss and, voila, they were officially inundated with cow….or vaccinated. Yee-haw!
3. Littering is in, In, IN, in Lebanon. So much so that when Lebanese people visit Barcelona they comment on how clean the city is (Note to reader: If and only if urine is considered a disinfectant can BCN be considered clean.). So in Lebanon, how DOES one keep others from tossing filth on their property? By slathering one’s shop façade, front yard, back alleyway (wherever you want to keep clean) with religious iconography. The peeps may not respect Mother Nature, but they do love them some Virgins.
4. Egyptian hotel staff have great senses of humor….or are just really really devastatingly poor and in need of tips. Either way, the results are he-larious. For instance, there is a 50% chance that upon arriving back to your room you will find a full-size man made of napkins, wearing your clothing, splayed out on the bed, reading your books. 2 out of 4 people in my classroom had had this experience.
5. “Escupitajo” is the Spanish word for “loogie.” You better believe I love the way this word sounds….so much so that I made up a little meringue song and dance upon hearing it, and then performed it for my class. I sometimes wonder if the government funding for this class is not meant to support Catalan people who want to learn English, but rather, to pay for Spanish people to pretend to be students and entertain the teaching dreams of mentally-handicapped foreigners.
6. The French gesture for “Oooo, scary,” is to pinch the frontal fat on your neck. We all agreed that the French should be careful with this one because it could easily be confused with the “I’m gonna slit your throat, sucka” gesture.
Upon leaving, I noted that it was fantastic that the Generalitat de Catalunya had just paid for my students to learn things like “belch vs. burp” (which are gestures of contentment issued by dinner guests in Arabic countries) and that it would be back to grammar during the next class. Gloria, activating some of her newly acquired vocab, retorted, “I spit on grammar.” I told her to keep her escupitajo to herself.
