¡Buenas días, estudiantes! Bienvenidos a Hojas 101 (o Contabilidad 101). Mi nombre es Randy Larson, pero puedes llamarme “Señor Perdonname”, porque no sé mucho español, y voy a decir “¿perdonname?” a la mayoría de sus preguntas. De hecho, tengo tan poco español que necesitaba escribir este monólogo con antelación y revisarlo de antemano para asegurarme de que lo tenía todo bien. Así que… sí; es el todo de me español. Perdonname.
Dearest Rachel –
So… yeah; that’s a way to start off a letter to you, eh? With an introductory paragraph entirely written in Spanish. Considering that you took your foreign language study in French, anything I say in this language is, while not entirely meaningless to you – you were reasonably good at spotting the similarities between one Romance language and another –it isn’t going to make a whole lot of sense to you.
But you might be able to pick out the fact that I’m essentially apologizing for my lack of ability in Spanish myself – hey, it’s been over thirty-five years since I was taking those classes in college, and I’m pretty sure I dropped the minor even before you showed up, due to the fact that I was starting to get ‘B’s in the class and it was weighing on my GPA (obviously, this was before I started struggling with Linear Programming and matrix optimization). And while it served me well in the work farce, in dealing with our Mexican (and later Brazilian, although Portuguese is a whole different animal at times), I only looked better at it than my co-workers by comparison; it was a low bar to clear. And in conversation, I was – and still am, even more so – complete rubbish. And while I understand that, while I’m down in Honduras next week, there will be staffers who will serve as interpreters, I want to address the elephant in the room directly – and apologize to my students for it, since it will slow down the teaching process, and they deserve better than what I can provide.
A couple of days ago, I sat down with Maddie and Kris to discuss my role in the upcoming trip to Siguatapeque. It turns out that their own personnel down there might need some coaching in either various principles of accounting or the use of the online bookkeeping software employed there (as well as at church and camp, which is what makes me a subject matter expert to discuss it with them). I joked that I would be using the phrase “perdona me” a lot throughout my interactions with both the local staff and students, to the point where they might just as easily saddle me with the nickname of “Mr. Pardon Me” as I would ask them whether and what they said to me; I might as well get ahead of it and make light of it before that happened.
To my surprise, Maddie thought this was a great idea – to be a personable instructor – and suggested that I do just that. It would seem that the Honduran formal education experience leans very much into the “formal” part of its name. Not only is it prohibitively expensive for the average student (which is why Just One is there, to provide an education outside of the pricey government-provided channels), but it’s also rigorously cookie-cutter. A typical class might involve a teacher writing an entire lesson on the chalkboard, which the students would be expected to copy down and study, as everything displayed there could and would be on an exam later on. To be sure, I think you and I both had a couple of classes like that back in college, and to an extent, it sounds not unlike the Japanese classroom experience, as well. Certainly, the model works for specific people in specific situations.
But some subjects are better taught through a more interactive, hands-on approach, and dealing with an instructor that isn’t so stiff and formal might prove a more effective means of learning for a lot of these kids. And while I don’t consider myself “good with kids,” if I’m dealing with ones who are wanting to learn – while it’s cheaper by far than the local schools, Just One isn’t free to attend, and kids often are sponsored by contributions from the States and elsewhere – and I have a decent command of the subject matter (if not the language to convey it to them, but supposedly, that bridge will be provided for), it should be a reasonably enlightening experience for them. And admitting my own shortcomings as part of the process may go a ways toward making me relatable to them – I may have command of the subject matter, but I don’t know everything, and I’m not about to pretend otherwise – while making the attempt to communicate on my own can’t hurt, either, even if it sounds pretty broken in their ears.
I do wonder what an ‘American’ accent sounds like to a native Spanish speaker; I doubt I’ll be able to find out, even if I deliver one, since it sounds roughly natural to me. In any event, it’s going to be a challenge to even deliver those lines, so when I get up to do so, I’d appreciate it if you’d keep an eye on me, honey, and wish me luck. I hardly have to tell you that I’m going to need it.
Letters to Rachel 