They
say that excessive use of profanities is a sign of a limited vocabulary.
I think that's true because when I speak Spanish I swear an awful
lot. After all, when I need a word "Joder" ("Fuck")
is just at the tip of my tongue.
But
in my defense and in the defense of other foreigners speaking
a language other than their native one, just because I sound like
an idiot when I talk doesn't mean that I am one. I mean, I am
a highly educated adult that
well
just has a limited
vocabulary. Joder!
This
often times is very humbling, especially when speaking with children.
Whenever I am in a situation when I have to talk to a Spanish
child my pulse quickens, my palms turn sweaty and my neurons stop
firing. Just think, all this happens only by seeing the big round
eyes and bouncing curls of a little girl holding a toy. And why?
They are just too hard to understand! It's their high pitched
and squeaky voices that throw me.
A
typical scenario goes like this: A little girl who looks so innocent
and sweet fast approaches me. She's zeroing in on her target,
her prey. She gets closer and my pulse grows quicker. Then she
goes for the kill and she asks me in Spanish, "What time
is it?" in her seemingly falsetto but innocent high octave
voice. By this time I am a mess and I have no clue whether she
just told me the name of her doll or told me to piss off. I mean
I know that "¿Qué hora es?" means, "What
time is it?" But it's different when it comes out squeaky
and inaudible from the small mouth of a child. I turn red and
fumble for words and she stares at me incredulously. What was
wrong with me? I am an adult and I can't talk? What's my problem?
Just about this time her mother sees her talking to a stranger
and hurries over to rush her away. At this point the little girl
continues to give me a boggled look as her mother who is scornfully
staring at me as if I were a pervert or child kidnapper is pushing
her in the opposite direction. They then turn their backs to me
and walk farther away. It finally dawns on me what she is asking
and I yell out to them, "It's three! It's three!" They
pause for just a moment and then walk on. I am left jumping up
and down holding up three fingers and everyone is staring at me.
It's a humbling experience and all because of the girl with the
bouncy curls.
This
whole language issue also came to play when we bought an apartment
in Barcelona. Let me repeat it again
just because my Spanish
vocabulary is limited doesn't mean that I am an idiot! Joder!
Everyone kept telling us what a great investment buying real estate
in Barcelona was. We got caught up in the frenzy and decided to
ride the wave of real estate speculation. We found the place and
started the process of negotiating the price, obtaining a mortgage
and interfacing with the lawyers. Then the next thing we knew
all of our Spanish friends suddenly became experts in Spanish
real estate buying and had ample advice to give us. "You
need a lawyer." "Don't trust a lawyer." "Negotiate
the mortgage rate." "That's a good price for an apartment."
"Are you kidding? You're paying way too much." People!
We are not idiots; we just have a limited vocabulary! My husband
and I have a good understanding of what's out there and how much
it costs! We have even been homeowners in the past! I just ended
up selectively listening to this advice, especially the advice
given by those friends that still lived at home, after all, how
many of them have ever paid a mortgage?
True,
buying in Spain still had all the pain and suffering that always
goes with purchasing property. This is a cross-cultural truism.
Yet, out of the whole ordeal I learned a whole new set of vocabulary.
I now know how to say words like "appraisal", "load
bearing wall", and "variable interest rate". I
don't really know where I am going to use those words outside
of the realm of the real estate word. No, I'll just tuck them
away in the off chance that a little girl with bouncing curls
approaches me and asks me in her high pitched tone, "Do you
have a fixed or variable rate mortgage?" I'll be ready this
time!