The Homestay!

The homestay was a little awkward from day one, but this was an obvious, expected, and even welcomed transgression from the norm. It was a monday and I had just finished my first day of school with my teacher, Mercedes. Lunchbox and locker combination in hand I was introduced to my adoptive family. I had received an email about my family but was given very basic information and I wondered what information the family had recieved about me. Did they know that my spanish was equivalent to that of a 4 year old, or that I was black, or, most importantly, that I liked to eat large amounts of food.
I knew that My mother was my senor by two years and my brother was a 14 month old baby but thats about it. I met my father at one of the three gates required to enter the house and couldn´t help wondering if he had any qaulms about letting a 26 year old stranger live and eat with his wife and child.
My father introduced himself and gave me a quick tour of the house. I met Lourdes, my mother, and Gabrielle, my brother, later. They seemed to be happy family and it was quite obvious that little Gabrielle required a lot of time and energy. I was okay with this and was happy that there was a least one person that I could outwit at the dinner table. It was interesting to watch this fourteen monther try to communicate his needs without words. And in all honesty I was more sympathetic and aware to his learning because I identified with his frustrations with language and the importance of non-verbals.
The first nights dinner was interesting and sufficiently uncomfortable. My biggest fear was the food rather than the conversation but that insight was ass backward. As soon as I would open my mouth a series of ¨huh¨and ¨ummms¨ would spill out. A rudamentary sentence was usually answered with a rambling of varous pronouns,verbs, interjections, and , most likely, made up gibberish. While communication was offered with best intentions, their accent and use of various verb forms seemed to dull my senses and a gave me the reaction time of a 90 year old man with a hearing aid. My replies were frustratingly short and at times painfully long as I would search my brain for the right word and the family would patiently wait for me to finish my four word sentence. This became our relationship, in part because of my slow progression but also because of the families rather hectic lifestyle. The most frustrating part of the whole engagement was my inability to tell a story, describe an event, or tell a joke.
To any and all that feel self confident and rather sure of themselves within social circumstances I recommend a homestay. It will induce immediate humility and will ensure that your mind is constantly engaged and you maintain (or develop) an apetite to learn. As I stumbled over spanish words that wpuld result in spanish throwup I would imagine Gearge Bush ( pronounced Jorge Bush) trying to communicate his basic needs at the cognitive level of a six year old. I wonder if there is a translation for his signature hee-haws and Texan mumbles.

Quito, Ecuador