Sigh ...

Why do languages have to be such a pain in the ass? I don't expect to be speaking fluently after three weeks, but it's incredibly frustrating to have a four-hour meeting about setting up our project and being able to contribute a couple of halting, inscrutible (judging by the uncomprehending looks on the faces of all present), simple questions as these guys are giving Marguerite and I a rough overview of some of the basics of Colombian geography and warfare.

When asked what we will doing concretely for our internship and thesis research these dudes didn't really have any details. We're at the planning stage of a multi-year program on migration and development of Colombia. And with her eternal optimism and energy, which is usually contageous but not so much tonight, Marguerite is convinced that this is for the best since it means that we'll be able to have quite a lot to say about what we'll study, and indeed some input in the elaboration of the program itself.

In the end I'm sure it will be fine, these things have a way of working themselves out. But damn, as I was struggling to understand the details of what these guys were saying I was really wishing I'd had more spanish classes. Which reminds me that I should really be writing to the Spanish class guy and asking him why the hell we haven't started yet.

Gnite.