Search Results

I gave up apologizing about it to my students when I realised that, because of it, we all have had to suffer. It is a cultural trial, a rite of passage that bonds all English learners, young and old, native, non-native. It is the irrational process of learning how to spell and read in English! I came across this visual which shows the reading level of various languages after one year of instruction. English is the first language on the chart; Spanish is the seventh. Why is the red bar so low for English learners and so high for Spanish learners? Are English learners less intelligent? Or is it that the teachers are bad? Why does every other language soar above English? Maybe a better question to ask would be: could it be that the actual system of spelling is unintelligible and bad?! Indeed, according to John Katt, Professor of English, that is exactly the problem. Good news, right?! It’s not you! It’s the system that is irrational. Now, instead of nagging your children or perhaps wondering if they lack the “smart gene”, you can give them a break. They are normal! It’s English that is lacking! Let me give some examples: Pronounce “answer” without the “w”; along with “write”, “wrinkle” and “wrong”. No “w” sound, but you have to write it! “Walk”, “talk”, and “gawk” all rhyme, but don’t dare pronounce the “l” or the “w” in gawk! Then we have “live” and “live”. They are written exactly the same but pronounced differently; the first means “vivir”, the other “vivo/a”. “Read” and “read”; again, spelled the same, but pronounced differently. The first is “leo”, the second “leyó”. And there are “read” and “red” (one is “leyó” the other “rojo”), but they are pronounced exactly the same. “Eight” (don’t say the “g”, the “i”, nor the “h”) and “ate” (pronounce the “a” like and an “e”, but don’t say the “e” at the end) are pronounced exactly the same. The first word is “ocho” the second, “comió”. To help you non-native English learners feel better, us native speakers had to begin rigours spelling programs with tests every Friday (which made Fridays bitter sweet…) from the age of five until we entered University. And, even after all that rigours spelling practice, the first thing I did at University was learn how to spell check on the new word processors. An incredible invention that alerted me to misspelled words and corrected them! It was God sent; us English communicators are not alone!

“You’ll write about this.” “No, I won’t. I’m not a writer. I’m a reader.” “You’ll write about this.” The voice repeated. “No, I won’t!” I insisted like a two-year-old. I was engaged in a typical conversation; rather, in this case, an argument between me and myself. I spent hours walking through the Spanish countryside with a large green backpack, staring cows, and that voice as my only companion. The voice was quiet, but I felt its presence. “But I don’t write!” I whined. So instant was I at arguing my limitations that I barley noticed the fresh gusts of wind brushing my face, and the grass dancing up through the rocks. “Write like Miguel de Cervantes, one episode at a time for the local newspaper,” responded the always calm, always persistent voice. I said nothing back. This voice knew me; it knew how Don Quijote de La Mancha was my hero, my inspiration for life. It was the name of the book and the name of the character created by Cervantes, who, episode by episode, wrote the world renown classic book, which has been published second only to the Bible. When I returned to my hometown of Bishop, California, in the States, I went to the Inyo Register, the local hometown newspaper office. Scared, and hiding it, as I waited to talk with the editor and presented my first article. To my surprise, he agreed to publish it! Thus, began my adventure as a writer. I hope you enjoy walking with me as I share my reflections, discoveries, and trials of walking El Camino de Santiago in Spain. I call it a “Different Kind of Camino” because it is the inner journey as much as the outer journey that takes us on an adventure and also, a pilgrimage.

It started with a promise. But I didn’t know that then. I didn’t know I would resign from my teaching position for this promise. Nor did I know that for this promise I would agonize between my “earthly responsibilities” and some “spiritual quest”. I only knew something was pushing me out of my mundane world. The spiritual quest eventually won out, leaving the “earthly responsibilities” scowling at me. It turned out the quest was to walk El Camino de Santiago, La Vía de la Plata, also named El Camino Mozárabe from Seville to Santiago de Compostela, Spain. Many have heard about El Camino Francés; an ancient pilgrimage across the top of Spain. It ends in the city of Santiago de Compostela where Saint James, a close disciple of Jesus is laid to rest in the Cathedral. What many people don´t know (at least North Americans) is that there are many other pilgrim routes across Spain and Europe to Santiago de Compostela. The one I chose, they say, is the oldest and longest: 600 miles. It begins in the southern part of Spain and ends in its northern corner. This Vía de la Plata dates back to pre-roman times, and has always been a major trading, communication, and conquest vein that ran the length of the country. It is also called the Camino Mozárabe because Muslims allowed the Catholics peaceful passage through the Moorish controlled lower half of Spain. When I looked at the Vía de la Plata route on the map of Spain, I thought of my own Eastern High Sierra and the 395 that runs up the length of California through our Bishop and Mammoth Lakes communities. If U.S. Highway 395 was the Californian Vía de la Plata, then instead of the mix of Romans, Moors, Callaici, Astures and Vacceos cultures traveling up and down, our mix would include Native Americans, Latinos, ranchers, fishermen, skiers, climbers, scientists, hikers, business and service people. Could the same promise apply to our part of the world in modern times? I think it’s worth a try; in fact, I think it’s possibly the only way for all our cultures on our beautiful planet earth to move forward. Why did I choose to begin in Seville, you ask, when all the movies and books about El Camino spoke of the Northern route? Well, perhaps you have not seen La Giralda, a Mozarabic tower that forms part of the Cathedral in Seville. Or maybe because you have never eaten tapas in the many cafes under the deep, rich blue of the Mediterranean sky while listening to the sounds of passionate Flamenco music. Or maybe because the spring of late March was bursting green and the yet-to-be-discovered Vía de la Plata route was whispering to me; beckoning me to the crossroads of ancient history and converging cultures. I didn’t know that on this route I would stumble across the pillar upon which the promise was written. What I was sure of, however, was that I wanted my first sello, or stamp, in my Pilgrim’s credential to be from the magnificent Giralda.

—Propera parada: Algemesí —va dir la veu de la megafonia del tren. Mentre recollia la maleta i el meu violí, vaig pensar en quan rar pronuncien la paraula «Algemesí», amb aquesta «ge» forta. A Califòrnia, no parlen castellà així. Però, ja no hi era a Califòrnia, estava a Algemesí, València, per primera vegada. És clar, hi haurà coses diferents. Exactament quines serien? no tenia ni idea, ni de les grates sorpreses que anava a rebre. Per citar alguns exemples, parlem de València. El seu clima mediterrani d'una mitjana de 17 ° C, és a dir, 63 ° F, és perfecte per a conrear tarongers, verdures, i uns vins excel·lents. Tot i que els espanyols van conquerir la terra fa més de dos-cents anys, ara, l'anglès és l'idioma principal. La CNN considera un dels cent millors llocs per viure dels Estats Units. A més, posseeix un dels parcs d'atraccions més espectaculars, el Six Flags. Em refereixo a la València de Califòrnia, és clar. Els dos són iguals però diferents. Vaig eixir del tren, era un dia gris d'hivern. Feia fred, però no un fred com el de la neu de les muntanyes de Califòrnia d'on jo havia eixit el dia anterior. Anava a Algemesí a treballar com a professora d'anglès i estava emocionada de tenir la meva nova llar al centre d'Algemesí. Aviat, coneixeria als meus nous estudiants. Però de moment, abans de començar el col·legi, tenia temps per explorar el meu nou món. Comparteix les meves perspectives de Califòrnia en aquesta columna mentre visc i explore aquest nou, per a mi, mediterrani. Et convide a participar en aquesta aventura: envieu-me les vostres preguntes i perspectives. No tindré respostes, no crec en elles. Una resposta significa un fi, millor seria seguir aprenent reflexionant i explorant.

I had no idea at the time how it would change my life. At that moment, I just wanted to investigate an island in Southern India: “let's see… what was it called? …something weird." I muttered to my sixteen-year-old self. "That’s it! Sri Lanka: a small tropical country that is called the pearl of the Indian Ocean", I read aloud. I had just received the news that I was to live on that tropical island for a year. “Wow!” I had thought to myself at the time. The year went by very fast, but at the same time, it was as long as an entire lifetime. Upon arriving, the colors, smells, and sounds of the island penetrated me, fascinated me, and surprised me. If someone had told me that we were on Mars, I would not have doubted it. I had never met Buddhists, nor eaten curry, nor not have the freedom (being a girl) to go out and explore. Nor had I ever swum in rivers... with elephants; nor drunk the water directly from a coconut. I knew I would never be the same again, the girl from an isolated mountain town in California. But what I didn't know was how this experience would shape my entire life. After my year as an exchange student in Sri Lanka, I went to college in Northern California where I studied literature, Spanish and music. I started my career as a teacher and college professor of Spanish and English; it was my way of incorporating my passion for languages ​​and cultures. I was always experimenting and looking for effective ways to learn languages. From my year in Sri Lanka, I realized that a vital part of acquisition was to learn language in its culture. So, I organized study trips abroad to Spain for my students. They were inspiring, educational, fun, popular, and most import to me, very effective. I knew I was on to something! Now, my base is in both Spain and the United States. With my years of experience, I have put it together in a private academy called… DarKha Linguistic Immersion! It is the totality of my studies, passions and talents. Back then, I didn't have a clue. But now, it’s all very clear! 