time warp

Last night, our new friend Bruce asked us how long we’ve been in the country. I quickly (and slightly triumphantly) replied, two weeks tomorrow! Greg paused and said, no, I think it’s only been nine or ten days. And he’s right. We arrived in Mendoza two weeks ago this coming Tuesday. Wow. I could have sworn it’s been closer to three weeks or even a month.

I think the time warp is simply because life in Juneau had become pretty predictable—the days were flying by at the end. I knew the rhythms (and the language, for God’s sake!) and had a plan for each day. Here, everyday is a surprise. What verb tense am I going to learn in my class? How will I communicate with someone I sit next to on the bus? Where can I buy a newspaper? Why can’t I learn new words when people tell them to me; why do I need to see them to remember them?

And it’s a beautiful thing, really, this change of pace. I find myself breathing deeply and enjoying moments with my husband. I hear Spanish words I didn’t remember I knew coming out of my mouth. I am slowly remembering the grammar rules for the past imperfect and the ever-torturing subjunctive. I am slowly finding patience with myself...rather than being disappointed with how hard the communication still is. Poco a poco, I tell myself. Slowly, I am starting to believe it.