Spanish Lessons

I guess a few people may wonder what I'm doing with myself in Argentina.  To assuage the worst fears of those close to me, I figured I should try to keep a log on the web (I call it a lweb), just to prove that I'm not spending my days smoking heroin or smuggling Paraguayan sex slaves.  The truth is far more banal, I'm afraid.  What I'm mostly doing with my days is cursing myself for not practicing Spanish over the summer.

I knew from a previous visit that it is tough to get by with English down here.  It's humiliating to be the arrogant tourist who expects the locals to know my mother tongue.  I have a Spanish language program on my laptop, but so far, the urge to make myself understood has proved no match for my procrastination skills.  Sure, I could spend a few hours doing Rosetta Stone.  But maybe I'll just sit at a cafe with my pal Mike and drink wine instead.  It's hardly a fair fight.

Luckily, the second day I was here, we met a couple who own a wine store.  Andreas and Alexandria wanted to practice their English.  Would we mind bringing some cheese to their tasting room, so they could open a few bottles of wine and practice English by teaching us Spanish?  Like any selfless Canadians, we could hardly pass up the chance to do a good deed for amigos in need.  I just returned home from our third lesson, and I've realized that I may actually have to put some work into this.  Or maybe I'll watch some spicy Latin soap operas tomorrow to see what sinks in.