My Host Mom Has Been Holding Out On Me

So, my host mother's name is Rosario. In Spanish, however, Rosario is a very formal name. Normally the Rosarios of Peru go by "Charo." I affectionately call my Peruvian mother, Mama Charito.

Mama Charito takes very, very good care of me. She packs my lunches every day, and even helps me with laundry on the weekend. When I come home in the evenings, dinner is ready for me on the table. (Lunch is the main meal in South America, Charo and her daughter come home and eat a huge meal together at 2 or 3 in the afternoon. I am gone at this time, so Charo saves some of the lunch they have for my dinner, which I eat when I come home around 6:30. At that time Charo and Pia are usually back at work and school.)

Every morning Mama Charito and I eat breakfast together. Usually, I have some sort of fruit - grandilla, chirimoya, tumba, banana, etc - and a freshly-baked roll from the bakery just down the street. Charito also makes what she calls "jugito" (little juice). To prepare jugito, Charo throws melons, pineapples, mangoes, and papayas into the blender and adds a little bit of water. It's a smoothie of sorts, and I love it. Over breakfast, I practice my Spanish by talking with Charo. Sometimes we watch the news and I tell her what I understand. Sometimes she asks me about my day, and sometimes I ask her about hers. At first breakfast conversations were painful. They required a lot of hand gestures and repetition. In the last couple of weeks, they've gotten easier --- but still, I am reminded every morning of how much I have to learn in Spanish. Charito is usually very patient with me. She is always willing to explain herself in multiple different ways, if necessary, until I understand. And, if I jumble my grammar too much, she cocks her head, smiles and then tells me to try again so she can understand. Sometimes, I end up mumbling to myself wishing someone spoke a little English.

Well, the other day, I asked Charo a question in the car and I realized I had asked it in English. I quickly started re-framing the question in Spanish, but before I could, Charo answered me in perfect English. "You speak English?!" I asked, completely surprised as image after image of breakfast table conversation flashed thorugh my mind. "Si," she answered seriously. And hasn't spoken a word of English to me since.

Mama Charito has been holding out on me.