Ausente sin permiso (AWOL)

It is fair to say my Spanish classes are somewhat lack-lustre.
Javier, despite his general niceness, is just not getting us fired up about learning his native tongue.
But we are nice in return.
Not disrespectful.
Surly, perhaps, but never pugnacious.
Curmudgeonly, occasionally, but never cantankerous.
So it came as some surprise that he went missing all last week.

Our Tuesday 9am class was simply cancelled.
At 9.05am we were informed Javier had to return to Spain at short notice.
I was more than slightly miffed as San Fran Man returned to the States the same day.
His flight was not due to depart until 11am.
But I dropped him off at Dublin airport at an unreasonably premature 7.30am in order to be in time for my non-existent Spanish class.
A quick hug and kiss before I shooed him from the passenger seat.
A hasty ¡hasta luego!
I even forgot to turn around and wave him goodbye as I drove off from the departures ramp.
How unromantic of me!
But I am a dedicated student.
I have not missed a lesson yet.
And I intend to keep it that way.

Our Thursday 9am class was taken by Dr. Peter Mullen.
He is the module coordinator for the more advanced students of Spanish.
But to beginners like us it was an almost epiphanic moment.
It was fantastic.
He got the class enthused.
Explained things on the chalk board.
The normally confused expressions on our faces dissipated into penny-dropping smiles as the missing bits of the jigsaw fell into place with a virtually audible click.
What's more, it was fun!
So we were over the moon when he took the following day's class too.
A whole week without Julio and our Spanish saw dramatic improvements.

Tuesday and still no sign of Javier.
No one has explained to us why he has not returned.
In his continued absence, we are asked to temporarily join another class that runs concurrently.
So we shuffle like a group of unloved and unwanted orphans to join what appears to be the alternative UCD universe of Spanish for Beginners.
The tutor, a lovely Spanish lady called Ana, has Dr. Mullen's prowess and is able to totally engage her students.
They look happy.
Like they are actually enjoying her class.
There is even laughter.

I imagine Javier having the time of Reilly in the sunshine.
(I accept it's practically winter but Spain is undoubtedly several degrees warmer than Dublin - it's a metaphor).
While we are struggling to grasp even the most basic elements of Spanish grammar.
No thanks to him.
I see him Flamenco dancing in the Plaza Mayor.
Sitting outside tapas bars, smoking cigarettes in his Ray-Bans and downing jugs of Sangria.
The fruity, heady punch dribbling down his chin and onto his white shirt.
And in my mind he is laughing.
Laughing at us.

I feet cheated.

©Alacoque Doyle