Could you tell us where we are and the best way out of here

Ok, so here I am, sitting at home, being sick, so I realize this would probably be the best time to blog. I will now type in an excerpt from my travel journal from when I was in Punta Cana. It might be a bit philosophical, but that is because at the moment, I was reading The English Patient and it was very profound and philosophical, and when I read, I start to think in that sort of writing. The writing is about becoming accustomed to having everyone(including myself) speak Spanish there. So here it is...

To hear such words slip from my mouth, like honey slips from the lip of a jar, is new to me. To say "Gracias" and remember, enunciate the ci, is different. The language, the words that mean something to someone, that are compulsive to someone else, but for me I must form and think and rehearse them in my head. But I learned a language before. Studying Latin, words have slithered from my tongue with the English translations immediately forming in my mind. I sometimes wonder, do people who were brought up learning to speak two different languages equally fluently, think in both languages? 

As I said, I have learned Latin. But it is different, this new learning of Spanish, for with Latin I learn grammar and translate from a book and put words in declensions and cases.

 Here, now, learning De Nada and Manana, it is a wholly new sensation, for I learn the flow, without rules, just words. And in this way, I can mostly understand the rough outlines of dialogues, like shadows emerging from the night, but I cannot put the flow together, to move smoothly from my mouth as it moves from the speaker's. In time, if I wanted, I'm sure I could, but for now, I only marvel at the sensation.

Title Quote: They Got Lost, They Might Be Giants