Monday, January 12, 2015

Foreign language laughter



Ah, the hilarities of practicing a foreign language.

I've never officially studied Spanish, but when I was in Costa Rica
and Puerto Rico about 5 years ago I picked up what I could: chatting
with locals, reading signs, flapping through my Spanish dictionary for
a new noun. I've been irreparably out of practice since then, but
still I'm astonished that once in context no small number of things
are coming back to me. Not that my sentence structure was ever any
better than that of a Neanderthal, but it was better than mute at least.

So I was out in the local grocery store with the girls, and they sent
me to get a bottle of rum from the liquor section. Unfortunately all
that strong stuff was locked in a glass case, so I set off to track
down a store representative. I found two men in tucked-in polo shirts
who were lingering chattily nearby, not seeming to be doing any
shopping type activities. That, with the polo shirts, seemed
sufficient indication. But they didn't have any official name tags or
anything.

"Con permiso", I started ("with permission"--I love this standard of
approaching people or asking for help, the equivalent of "excuse me"),
and then blanked on the correct conjugation of the verb "to work".

"Con permiso, trabajo aqui?" I said.

"Excuse me, do I work here?"

I laugh to think what it might like to have a looming white girl in
funny shorts approach you and ask if she happens to work in this
grocery store.

Nevertheless, they spoke English, and smilingly pointed me to someone
who could help. Turns out I didn't work there after all.

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