It doesn’t look like much—some banged-up chairs and desks, a few old computers, a tired whiteboard, a map of Mexico—but for the next four weeks, starting Monday morning, this room at the Hogar de Niños in Guadalajara will be the gathering place for ten young children eager to learn English.
We’ll be together for an hour a day, five days a week. Twenty days. Twenty hours. It doesn’t seem like a lot of time. How much of a foreign language can you learn in a mere twenty hours? Not much, perhaps.
But you can get a feel for the way it sounds, and you can become at least passingly familiar with the way it works, and, if the teacher really cares about you, you might walk away from those twenty hours with a burning desire to learn more.
narrow city street—
children skipping to one side
to let the moon pass