Catalan class.

Today's topic will simply have to be the first day of Catalan class. Though it wasn't actually the first day for everyone else, but I couldn't go on Tuesday.

The bus was late. What else, and filled to the unairconditioned brim with women who had applied FAR too much perfume. My eyes were watering, along with the sweat forming a thin film over most of my body. URGH.

I made it in time despite the dreadful traffic...and the class was....difficult, but about right I think. I had moments of feeling mulishly reluctant and uninterested in some of the activities, but being me, I rapidly re-scripted the set dialogue we were supposed to use and asked questions of my own.

I am probably the most fluent Catalan speaker there, which is pretty sad overall, although it is because I am the only one who really has to use it. The rest of them speak at least some Spanish, many are native speakers, and they all live in Barcelona, so really very little Catalan is used at all. There were some Anglos there of various ilk...I tried to stick to Catalan, it is one of the places I can practice it, I speak English all the time at work. And home. And in my head. And on my blog, for which you can be profoundly grateful.

I learned some fun new words....and my grammar has improved. Which is all good. It is going to be brutally tough to keep up with the work load as I miss two out of the five classes every week, but what can I do.

Once again, my biggest challenge is understanding what she says to us...she put us in a circle and I, inevitably, had my back to her...necessitating a prolonged Yoga twist whenever she started to talk, most of me was fine, but I was starting to wonder how my neck would cope.

The real problem is going to be my brain.

Wish me luck.

No word from the mactac police yet...thank goodness.