Pirates and Astronauts

Anyone looking for a grammar book seeks to map uncharted territory. He's a pirate, an astronaut, a mad adventurer, ready to discover an entire universe. Nothing is more daring or rewarding than learning a language. It's a limitless, overwhelming undertaking, worthy of heroes. Like Adam in paradise you're about to give everything its name. Now you're here and hold this grammar in your hands, you're one of us. Thank you.

How about that for a 'Hello, Dear Reader'? This is the opening paragraph of the preface to Gramática Básica del Estudiante de Español, a grammar book that's proved to be a fine companion on my exploration of the terra incognita that is Spanish. Of course, like every serious grammar, the entire thing is written in the language you're trying to master, so it took me a while to figure out what the hell the authors were rambling on about.

Encouraging as it may seem, the preface paints a picture far more glamorous than anything I've experienced so far. Most of the time you feel like a toddler when you screw up your tenses again or say things like "Soy un poco enfermo" (I'm something of a lunatic) instead of "Estoy un poco enfermo" (I'm a bit under the weather). I've tried it, though, the 'mapping uncharted territory like a pirate' thing. In the classroom of the language institute, for instance. "Arrr, bring it on, matey! I'll slit yer throat! Takes more than a scurvy subjunctive clause fer me t' go havin' the Davies!" All it got me was a puzzled look from my teacher.

The language situation in Spain is rather straightforward. Unless you want to spend your time in splendid isolation, you're more or less forced to tackle the basics of Spanish. Because the fact of the matter is: no one seems to care a bit about English. As far as I can tell this has nothing to do with snobbery, as, some might argue, is the case in France. Many people speak a second language, often French or Italian. For others, Spanish comes after Catalan, Basque or Galician. But English remains problematic, even for youngsters. The question is: why? Lousy English teachers, as someone suggested? Of course, it doesn't help that everything on the telly gets dubbed, from films to sitcoms to soundbites on the news. Perhaps it's me, but somehow Los Vigilantes de la Playa doesn't sound half as sexy as Baywatch. And I had to blink a few times before I realised that people refer to a certain band from Ireland when they say 'oo-dos'.

However, all is not lost. A few weeks ago I came across a television channel called Aprende Inglés TV. I only needed five minutes to get hooked. Think of it as a grammar book with talking heads instead of pages. It deals with the intricacies of the English language in half a dozen formats: snappy conversation classes, twenty-minute in-depth explorations of various grammatical head-scratchers, a kids' corner with a guy in a crappy dog suit singing stuff like Hokey Pokey, and even a late-night talk show.

Now, this might not sound overly intriguing, but wait until you see some footage of Richard Vaughan, founder and anchorman of Aprende Inglés TV. Over the years, this middle-aged Texan has managed to build his own language-training empire here in Spain. Radio, TV, DVD's, books, websites, iPhone apps: you name it, it's out there. And no talk of pirates and astronauts with this guy. Richard Vaughan only believes in one thing. Well, three things, to be precise. Repetition, repetition, repetition. Which, in my case, leads to something close to hypnosis. But why not have a look yourself, as Richard explains the difference between 'this' and 'that'. Blimey, I wish they had this in Spanish, too…