Yes, that is a snowblower beside the garage. If you can't tell what it is, that's because it's buried up to the handle. It doesn't work. Obviously.
In order to celebrate the first day of spring, I also went dancing. With a group of women. None of whom I shared a first language with. It was awkward. For various reasons.
Eli and Evan have brothers in their classes who are Mexican. I met their parents when they found our cat and posted a picture of her on facebook. Marcela, their mom, and I have been wanting to get together for a long time now. Thus far, our main interaction has mostly been meeting and kissing in the grocery store. (Eli and Evan find this interesting. Other onlookers may as well.) I may have also said something weird to her about the boys being naked with the baby one day in the grocery store. I was trying to say they were "naturals" with her. Marcela acted confused, then quickly went on in the conversation. I think 'natural' can also mean naked. I have to ask her sometime. That's embarrassing.
Anyway, Marcela called me a couple months ago and told me about this group of friends that they do things with. Most are Spanish-speakers, some are Filipino. She said the women get together Thursday nights and dance. With an internal sigh of relief, I said, "Sorry, we have youth group Thursday nights."
You see, I have this thing about dancing. I like to dance. In my house. Dancing is one thing that I would love to feel comfortable doing, but DO NOT feel comfortable doing. In fact, Kendall's and my collective most embarassing moment revolves around dancing. And a different Mexican friend dragging us onto the dance floor. (But, since I just relived an embarrassing moment about naked big brothers, I won't go into the dancing embarrassment.)
But back to Wednesday, the first day of spring- So Marcela calls me in the afternoon and says, "Our get-together night changed to Wednesday! Can you come?" (One thing I've learned from Rod and Nathalie about making friends is that sometimes you just have to bite the bullet and say Yes. Thanks, guys. I guess.) So I said yes. Nothing like combining 2 draining activities: Making friends in a different language and DANCING in front of people.
But I went. And it was mostly fun.
I dressed kind of nice. Most of the others showed up in sweats. Marcela failed to tell me that it was exercise dancing. To a DVD. Much better. (Surely it wasn't that I just didn't understand that part...) There were 6 or 7 other women there. All but one were native Spanish-speakers.
Communicating in Spanish takes a certain amount of concentration and humility. (Especially since it has been nearly 5 years since I have used it on a regular basis.) I'm sure I missed some things because I just didn't have enough concentration for both dancing and listening/talking. And yes, it is humbling to miss things and say things wrong and wonder if your joke made any sense. But, I've done that lots before. It didn't hurt me then, so I suppose it won't hurt me too much now.
The women were very welcoming and warm. They were happy to add 'American' to their intercultural mix. I'm excited to go back again. I just might be nerdy and practice some of the dance moves first in the privacy of my home.
P.S. I'm making cookies today and taking them to Marcela and her family. Why? Because I got horribly and humiliatingly stuck in the snow when backing out of their driveway. That brought Marcela, her husband and her teenage son out to help late at night. It also brought more embarrassment. Marcela was very gracious and acted like it was all a great adventure. I felt more like her teenager acted: less enthusiastic.
