The Language Exchange – Part 1: Tandem

"You say it wrong," said Marta. "It is gràcies. Not grassy-ass."

"I'm so sorry," said Chloe.

The café in Gràcia was crowded with students, tables piled with notebooks and cortados. A sign on the door said Intercanvi d'idiomes, dijous, 7 pm. Marta, thirty, a Catalan teacher with a dark bob and a no-nonsense grin, had come to practise her English. Chloe, twenty-eight, a translator from Dublin, with freckles and a very expressive mouth, had come to learn Catalan.

They had been paired by a clipboard.

"Say it again," said Marta.

"Gràcies."

"Better. The r is gentle."

"The r is a nightmare."

"It is also a very good way to make friends."

Chloe laughed. Her laugh was low, helpless and delighted, and Marta, to her annoyance, felt her stomach flip. She asked a question in careful English: "How do I say I am embarrassed without sounding like a dictionary?"

"You say 'I'm mortified.'"

"I am mor-ti-fied."

"Perfect."

For six weeks they met every Thursday. They swapped vocabulary and mistakes. Marta taught her to order a coffee without being laughed at; Chloe taught her slang from the pubs of Dublin. They argued about subjunctive. They shared a plate of patatas bravas with one fork.

"Can I ask you something?" said Chloe, on the sixth week.

"Yes."

"How do you say I like you in Catalan?"

Marta's pencil stopped. "M'agrades."

"M'agrades." Chloe tried it softly. "Is it... a normal thing to practise?"

"It is a very normal thing," said Marta, going pink. "People say it constantly."

"Green?" said Chloe, a word from the café's menu.

"Green," said Marta, with a helpless smile. "Very green. Say it again."

Continue the story: Part 2 – Final Exam.