Jesus es su compadre!

... is what I just heard shouted over a PA at the 24th and Mission BART stop. So much Spanish to be spoken, living in the Mission. And, so little of it that I know. I've started to try soaking up all the bits of Spanish that I see on signs and flyers around the neighboorhood. "Wanted: Estilitos" was posted at a beauty salon by my apartments. Of course, an even better resource is my roommate, who was born in Chile. He speaks Spanish fluently. It would be nice to walk into one of the small grocery stores and be able to speak to the guy behind the counter in the same language that he's speaking to his friend standing next to you.