Recently I was interpreting for a coffee cupping course. During lunch, the following conversation occurred between me and one of the students who I had really come to enjoy.
Him: So, how long have you been speaking Spanish?
Me: Oh gosh, like ten years.
Me: But what? You think that my level should be better for having done this for ten years?
Him: [Plainly, uncharged] I just think that you should be more fluent.
Me: [Change of subject.]
Moral: You win some you lose some.
Later I thanked this young man. Our conversation had pulled that infamous ego right out, bringing her into plain view. Guerilla warfare with one’s self is quite exhausting. My vision now clear, my foe in sight, I could take a rest from my post. She and I then sat next to each other for a bit, our animosity turning to the indifference of an upper east sider and a crown heightser on the A-train.
Maybe one of these days, just like in the famous WWII tale, we’ll lay down our arms all together and play a bittersweet game of fútbol together if only for a few hours.