¿Una Moto? Ok, whatever you say.

In addition to the upper-division Spanish program CC-CS has for American college students, they also hold English classes in the Center and offer English tutoring for Spanish children. As I am studying to be a teacher, have had experience with children and with tutoring, and would love to have some extra cash, I decided to sign up to be a tutor through the program. Because it had been a while and I had not heard anything, I assumed that I was not going to receive any students to tutor. However, when I checked my email today, I had a message saying that I did indeed have students and the parents would like me to start today.

I nervously proceeded to call the phone number given to me and to talk with Ignacio, the father of the two children whom I will be working with. After we determined that 3:30 to 4:30 in the afternoon on Mondays and Wednesdays would work the best for everyone, he asked that I meet him in front of the Corte Ingles in Nervion so he could walk with me to their house so I did not get lost. "Ok. I can do that," I thought. "No pasa nada." This, however, required that I rush home immediately after my class ended aty 1:45 pm, eat quickly (which never exactly works out in Spain because meals always have a way of taking longer than you think), and leave my house at 3:00 pm to power-walk to El Corte Ingles by 3:30 pm. No pasa nada, right?

Well, Carmen was out when I arrived home; because everything happened so quickly while I was at school, I did not have a chance to tell her that I was in a hurry for lunch today. After I was eventually able to gulp down some lunch and run out the door, I made it to our meeting place in time. Except I was the only one who was on time. I waited there for about twenty minutes before I received a call from Teresa, the mother of the family, apologizing for the confusion and saying that Ignacio was coming to get me "en la moto" because it was a little before 4:00 pm and they did not want me to be late for my class at 5:00 pm. As I was too busy being relieved that they had not forgotten me and wondering about how on earth I was going to get to class, it did not quite register in my brain that "la moto" is short for "la motocicleta." ......

Ignacio showed up a few minutes later, sure enough on a moto scooter. As he explained that he had been caught up at work and apologized for being late, he pulled out a spare helmet and handed it to me. To his question of "¿Te da miedo las motos?" (Are you afraid of motos?), I replied, "No, no. Está bien," even though that was not exactly the truth. He assured me that we would go slowly anyway. I put on the helmet, got on the back of the scooter, put my feet on the small foot rests, and then we were off-- in the direction from which I had come! I had just power-walked twenty minutes down Calle San Francisco y Javier to get there on time, and now we were riding back in the direction I came from. I could do nothing but smile (trying not to laugh). There I was in Sevilla, with the wind in my face, riding on the back of a scooter with someone I had just met. The situation was, well, just ironically funny, but here in Sevilla-- with a wave of the hand and "No pasa nada," we just go with it.

We got to the house, and I met Teresa and los niños-- Nacho, the boy, is 12 and his sister Teresita is 10. We did a few exercises and talked for while, so I could get to know them a little and get a feel for how much English they knew, but we did not have enough time for a full hour. Ignacio told me that he would take me back to school on the moto today so that I would not be late, for which I was very grateful. I strapped on the spare helmet again-- a little tighter this time so it did not slip to the back of my head in the wind-- and we were off once again. To get back to the Center, we drove along the river (which was very scenic from my view on the back of a moto) and through some back streets to avoid traffic before pulling up in front of the Center on Calle Harinas. I thanked Ignacio for getting me there on time for class and said good-bye, thinking to myself, "Well, that was interesting."

¿Una moto? Ok, whatever you say. No pasa nada.