Se habla español en Pedregalejo

We added an additional two members to our family! Welcome, Lolo and Ara! These wonderful people were the kids' Spanish immersion teachers for the week in Pedregalejo and, if we could have, we would have adopted them both as family. Let’s back up. Months ago, Kip researched this place called The Cervantes School just outside Málaga which offers intensive Spanish courses. You can stay for a week, a month, a year, or more, depending on what you want to get out of it. Back in Marbella, Kip and I had a phone conversation to assess our individual level of fluency in order to put us in the right classes. So, we arrived in this small fishing village called Pedregalejo on a Sunday night and got ready for in-person school - something we haven’t done since this trip began.

You could almost spit on the sand from our 2nd-floor apartment (if that’s your thing) and catch the Mediterranean breeze in the air. The coastline, perfectly scalloped with riprapping, creates little coves or watery cul-de-sacs to protect the beach from larger waves. It also makes for an incredibly safe environment for kids as we were able to let them all run down to the beach and play while I could leisurely get ready or prep dinner and keep an eye out. On the first floor of each apartment is a restaurant or chiringuito (as they're called). These casual seafood beach bars invite singing, music, despedida/s de solteros (bachelor/ette parties), and all manner of happiness..and make for the best people-watching on the planet.

Early on Monday morning - too early considering our slow pace the last month - we made the five-minute walk to Cervantes and checked in with our pens and notebooks, ready to be students rather than teachers for a change. The kids have two teachers with whom they split time. For example, Gaelan and Onora might have Ara first and then Lolo later in the morning while the older two did the reverse. From 9:00-12:40 every day, you are expected to speak and listen only in Spanish. In my classroom, there were 10 of us and our teacher Marga. In all honesty, I seemed to be the one most lost. As I scanned the room of nodding heads, I was certain my expression looked like I had just been asked to calculate a spacecraft's optimal trajectory to Mars. After the first hour, the only word I could recognize was "Amy" (when I was being called on). It would go something like this: Blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah...Amy...blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah. I'd panic. Crap. What did she say? What page are we on? Flight. Fight. Freeze. By hour two, my brain had lost all ability to retain any information...or speak. During our morning break, the director of the school, Paola, came up to us on the patio and asked me, "How are you?" (¿Cómo estás?) My mushy head forgot the basic Spanish response, "Estoy bien." (Which, of course, I was not.) Instead, I stood there, frozen like a scared possum, until Liam said, "Mom? Are you okay?" like I had just suffered a concussion. By the end of the 3rd hour, I was toast. We were dismissed and Kip came out excitedly and asked, "How did it go?" and I almost burst into tears.

On the walk home, I had convinced myself that I was put in the wrong level. During my phone interview, I was convinced, yes, definitely, that I had used the word "fue" (past tense). Clearly, they assumed I knew more than I did if I was using the past tense. But, in all honesty, I have never had a formal Spanish class in my life. In fact, I had taken Japanese and Latin for 3 years each and the only Spanish I've learned is from Duo Lingo and Kip. I mean, I'm proud of my 200-day DuoLingo streak, but the app can't take the place of a formal class. So, I did what any panicked person does and wrote an email to the school. In my best Spanish, I explained my lack of formal training and asked if I was, in fact, at the correct level.

But something amazing happened. When I woke the next morning, the first thing I saw pop up on my phone was a quote that said, "When you're comfortable, you're not growing." It was a sign if you believe in those sorts of things. And, I do. Yes, got it, Universe. Duly noted. I put on a nice dress and went in confidently and with the intention of trying my hardest and challenging myself. Because what is the purpose of knowing everything? If you know it all, why are you there? It's supposed to be hard and uncomfortable. And, when I got to school that morning, they told me I was indeed correctly placed. I felt pretty proud of that.

Cervantes School is like going to a UN meeting. My class was comprised of people from Belgium, Hungary, France, Ireland, and Guadalupe (the latter I had to find on a map). Most of them are working on learning their 3rd, 4th or 5th language, one of whom was a 21-year-old girl from Budapest. I get it. A lot of it is proximity. If you're in the EU, it's an easy border crossing. People get jobs in other EU countries and on weekends it's only a train ride to Italy or Switzerland. We can take a train to Florida, which, in all honesty, is like another country, but you get my point. After a week of listening and responding, having discussions, doing homework, practicing at night, and keeping the quote on discomfort in the forefront of my mind, I felt like I'd learned a semester of Spanish in one week. I even had to do a 5-minute presentation entirely in Spanish, complete with slides on a topic of interest. I was incredibly proud of myself. I'm not over my discomfort. I'm working on being comfortable WITH it.

Aside from my experience, Kip loved being able to talk to his fellow classmates (7 people from 6 countries) about things that he typically doesn't have the ability to talk to middle school kids about. Important topics like cultural differences, travel, happiness, religion, abortion, healthcare, and the war in Ukraine. It reinvigorated him through discussion-based learning and he loved the people and personalities in his class. To add icing to the cake, the kids' experience was second to none. The connections they made with Ara and Lolo can't be overstated. Brother and sister, Ara and Lolo both celebrated their birthdays that week and Onora made cards for them saying, "I love you." On our walks home, Liam would comment, "Lolo is the best beatboxer and he likes the same obscure music I like." Knowing that all of these conversations occurred in the target language was amazing. It built their confidence and surely didn't feel like a traditional school setting. It was more about just getting to know someone, which in an era of "fear of others" is probably the best thing we could be doing for our children's future.

So, the kids were all doing "double school." Speaking in Spanish for 3.5 hours and then coming home to catch up on regular school before hitting the beach in the late afternoon. I could get used to this life. From watching the Espetos (skewers) guys burn fires all day in their empty boat shacks that dot the coastline, cooking everything from sardines or octopus on a stick, to witnessing some paddleboarders try to help a 4ft long injured sunfish not 10 feet from us, to playing volleyball on the beach, we took advantage of all this place had to offer. (Sunfish photo credit: https://marybatessciencewriter.com/)

We even celebrated a belated Mother's Day at the Balneario Restaurant overlooking the surf-pounding sea wall and Málaga city, our next stop.

I'd recommend eating the Espetos sardines with a fork, however. While the taste is delicious, like salty tuna, eating with your hands leaves memories of that fish for DAYS that no amount of lemon juice, baking soda, or hydrochloric acid (I would have tried it if I had access to it) could put a dent in. The only option was to take a match to my fingertips.

Officially fluent in Spanish, (not quite) we were reluctant to leave Pedgregalejo. In fact, I asked Kip if he could get a job at the Cervantes School and he jokingly replied, "I already asked."

On the rooftop terrace at sunset with our goat cheese, olives, and a glass of wine, Kip and I toasted to Cervantes and hoped that our kids will come back here someday and stay for a while. That way, we can visit. Or maybe I can come back again someday to continue learning and realize my dream of being a professional student of the world. It's important. Keep learning, whatever it is. Adiós, Pedregalejo. Gracias por tu hopitalidad.