How do you say, ‘Can I play with you?’ in Spanish?

The blog stopped last week for our new schedule of school and sports. Anson started 5th grade and Risa 1st at the Colegio Pequeño Mundo, the small world school. While we are still trying to pull together the complete uniform, with help from some Venezuela friends, the kids have the special pants, with shirts soon to come. By Venezuela standards, the school is small and laid back, with a strong emphasis on art and music and no homework. Risa has about twenty classmates, while Anson is in a combined 5-6 class with 14. This suits us, as the children have studied in combined age classes their entire school years. Their teachers are sisters, and the school is run by a three generation family that is not related to the sisterly teachers.

School meets each day from 8-12:30, with a great deal of this time used for recess and snack. Also, the classes meet two afternoons a week for more drawing, art, and music. Each student studies piano or violin (ours will do piano), as well as recorder. Although I know they will encounter difficult days with language and relationships, the children up to now bound into school each day excited to be there – a joy to see!

Each morning and afternoon class begins with a warm greeting (cheeks together, make a kiss or a hug), and a hello to individual classmates. Anson has our friend, Ale, in his class. A sixth grader, she went to school for four years in the U.S. and helps out with translation. While I am concerned that this will slow down Anson learning Spanish, he keeps a notebook of words he learns or wants to learn in Spanish. Dodge ball, banned at our Des Moines school but a favorite of Anson’s, is an occasional recess game, much to his delight. The kids also love to draw, and pictures are “sold” each day at recess for pretend currency from a little house that also serves as an imaginary ice cream shop. They also wrote a short play the class performed this week.

Risa’s discussions of school revolve around friends and play. Each day, she issues the report on whether or not she “has a friend.” If a child decides not to play with her, Risa describes that the girl “doesn’t want to be my friend anymore.” Even though I know this is not the truest of characterizations, oh how my mother’s heart aches! She wants to be included in the classroom play with blocks, and to tell her story as well as understand those of others. The determination and patience required push her limits, in a way that I hope encourages her language learning as well as growth of that undefined characteristic of “personal fortitude.” This week, she has mastered use of the verb, “jugar,” to play, and practices with me how to say “¿Puedo jugar contigo?” Can I play with you?