I spent the Summer of ’96 as an exchange student at Universidad Autónoma de Guadalajara. I was finishing the last Spanish Conversation class requirement for my MA from Cal State Fullerton. I met so many amazing and generous people down there. My instructors were students themselves but they were so curious about America, Disneyland specifically. They’d all never been yet I had a season pass in my wallet. They really admired America. The way of life down there was definitely not as posh as what I had grown up in. It was a coming of age time for me.
Es difícil a decir cuántos personas conocen yo fui al Guadalajara estudiar Español in mil novecientos noventa y seis. He escribido much en mi blog sobre la experiencia. Todavía, artículos en un blog son perdido y olvidado rápidamente.
It’s difficult to say if many people know I went to Guadalajara to study Spanish in Nineteen Ninety Six. I’ve written in my blog much about the experience. Still, posts on a blog are quickly lost and forgotten. Though I was already 26, I was sheltered most of my youth in the wealthy town of Mission Viejo. This adventure taught me more than just Spanish. I use my Spanish daily as a 4th grade publish school teacher in the High Desert of California. At least 1/3 of my students are Hispanic in Spanish speaking families. Beyond that, it taught me about another part of the world. I saw a different way of existing, of being. Poverty was everywhere and yet people were making life work in the sun, across the sands from my world.
Today, I’m very proud that this 45 year old white Irish teacher from Orange County does all his parent conferences without needing an interpreter! I have much to say about that time in Mexico and words will be coming out of me until the day I die. I’m not sure if you knew that about me and many more probably will not as this post inevitably fades into the archives. Tat’s how it is with blogs. Posts have a mixed shelf life. Mine seem to be actively read 1-5 days at the most. Regardless the life of these words however, My time in Mexico in me forever.
In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “A Mystery Wrapped in an Enigma.”