Ciaociao32001 wrote:
BTW, many of my comrades on this board speculate as to how to meet and form a successful relationship with a non prostitute Tica. I find it interesting that you were able to meet and woo your wife without ever setting foot in Costa Rica, much less the Del Rey.
Here's the story, as it appeared in the November 2, 1998 Daily Nebraskan:
TIM SULLIVAN is a third-year law student and a Daily Nebraskan columnist.
Dicho y hecho
(No sooner said than done)
Something odd happened in the fall of 1993, and again about two weeks ago, but before I tell you
what happened, you need a little background info:
¿Qué está diciendo? (What is he saying?)
No sé. (I don't know.)
It all started on the morning of August 25, 1993. It was a Monday morning I recall vividly.
Fue el dÃa en que yo comencé a aprender español.
(It was the day I started to learn Spanish. Now, I may have just slaughtered that translation
horribly, but only my former Spanish teachers and I know for sure, right?)
At 7:30 that morning, I walked into the classroom on the northwest corner of the second floor of
Oldfather, took a seat in the back row and waited.
Already there was Carol Klucas, who didn't know it yet, but was to become my Spanish 101
instructor.
My decision to go to college had been a spur of the moment one.
I approached her before she started class, and asked about getting an override. Because I had
made the decision on Friday to quit my job and to start classes on Monday, I needed an override
to get into Spanish 101, as all sections were full.
She told me to wait until she took roll and to talk to her again at the end of class.
¿Cómo estás? ¿Cómo te llamas? (How are you? What's your name?)
Me llamo Tim. (My name is Tim.)
¿Qué? (What?)
Timoteo.
¿Timoteo?
SÃ, Timoteo is your name.
Hola. Me llamo Timoteo. (Hello. My name is Tim.)
Newly christened with the name "Timoteo," I was off to general registration for new students,
and I tried to register.
My first attempt failed miserably. I had forgotten one minor little detail - getting myself
readmitted.
Still pondering whether or not I liked mi nombre nuevo (my new name), off to Admissions I went.
An hour or so later, I'm back in line at the union, but this time things clicked, and I was suddenly a full-time estudiante (student) quien asistÃa la universidad (who was attending the
university).
Something strange happened in the weeks and months that followed.
The clothes I wore became mi ropa. My car was mi coche. Spanish class started a las siete y
media de la mañana, rather than at 7:30 a.m.
¿Puedo llamar a un abogado? (Can I call a lawyer?)
No, probably not. I asked for it.
Not only did I ask for it, but I went at it con mucho gusto. (With much pleasure.)
Marcela van Olphen was my next profesora de español.
I have never met anyone like her.
Hubo mucha paciencia. (She had a lot of patience.) Not only that, but I was in love. (Sigh.)
Recibà una "A+." (I got an A+.)
Spanish 201, which I took in the first five-week session of the Summer of 1994, wasn't so easy.
Dr. J. AugustÃn Pastén B. (I never did find out what the "B." stood for) saw to that. He scared
a bunch of people into dropping during the first week.
But I hung in there, even though it was one of only two times I have opted for pass/no pass.
¿Me van a molestar por ser humano? (Am I likely to be harassed for being human?) The guy was the
201 coordinator and reputed to be the toughest.
Silvia MartÃnez-Gonzaléz was my profesora for Spanish 202 in the second five-week session.
She was from Mexico. Cantamos canciones. (We sang songs.)
Recibà otra "A+." (I got another A+.)
Mis profesores de español wanted me to take higher level courses. I was just glad it was over.
That is, I was glad until a couple of weeks ago.
I was sitting on a park bench in front of the Laundromat I go to when two girls drove up in a
car with in-transit stickers in the windows.
The girl driving tried to park the car in a parking space. Her friend got out and tried to point
which way to turn the wheel, etc., but the girl driving just couldn't seem to park the car in a parking space without hitting cars in the adjoining spaces. She must have tried seven times.
Both of them were smiling and laughing. I was rolling.
Finally, the girl driving got out and said "Could you help me, please?"
I stopped laughing long enough to say "What, park your car?," and she said "Yes, please!"
So I got in her car and guided it safely into the parking space.
It turned out she had been driving for only a couple of weeks and was still learning to drive.
I gave her my phone number and found out her name was Yorleny.
She actually called that evening, much to my surprise.
The great thing about meeting Yorleny is that she has become mi amiga nueva (my new friend) who
is helping me re-learn my Spanish. It's coming back muy rápido. (Very quickly.)
Because she came here from Costa Rica only three months ago, I'm working with her on her
English. And learning a lot about Costa Rica, too.
Until now, I never considered it useful to have fulfilled my Spanish requirement.
So as you drudge through your language classes, just remember that it may be worth it some day
when you least expect it.
Your language classes may help you bridge cultural gaps that could reap huge rewards for you.
Dicho y hecho.
Te amo, Yorleny.
(Editor's note: Spelling and grammatical errors are the sole responsibility of the columnist.
Spanish professors should grade and return this column to him. Not me. My skills in Spanish are
legendarily bad.)