Living in Language

One of the principle challenges of living in a foreign country is living in the language. Many of the mistakes that one makes simply make one unintelligible. Other mistakes can be embarrassing or worse, insulting.

My friend Mark has been living in Mexico for over 10 years. His Spanish has been described by native speakers, as the best Spanish that they have ever heard spoken by a gringo. He is fluent and at times he teaches Spanish. His story (courtesy of his partner Victor) is an example of how someone can become almost too comfortable living in another language.

It was the day of the signing of the private purchase-selling agreement for their new home in San Luis Potosi. In Mexico, the signing of this kind of document is a very serious and almost formal ceremony. The notario (or notary - a position more like an attorney in Mexico) is in attendance to oversee and document the transaction. Mark was being appropriately formal, using the “usted” form of speaking with respect to the elderly woman who was selling the home.

When the moment came to sign the documents, Mark took the pen and turned to the woman. “Los impuestos y los servicios están pagados?” he asked. (Are all the taxes and services already paid?) “Por que no quiero tener ningún tipo de PEDOS en el futuro.” (“Because I do not want to have any kind of FARTS in the future.”)

Everybody in the room looked at him with eyes wide open and an expression of OH MY GOD!!!... WHAT IS HE SAYING?!!! When Mark saw the looks on the faces in the room and experienced the deafening silence, he turned and asked, “Did I say something wrong?” Victor leaned in and said, “PROBLEMAS!” (“PROBLEMS! You do not want to have PROBLEMS in the future, Mark. You must say PROBLEMS not FARTS.”)

Of course he apologized to the crowd especially to the elderly woman.

To further enlighten me, Victor provided the following explanation: “In Mexico we use to say Pedos (farts) instead of problemas (problems), but we use this word ONLY with very confident people like family or friends and they know us very, very well. I do not recommend to use this word when you do not know the persons around you. You can get some free problems or being considered low class. Although is fun use it once in a while.”

The purchase of the property went off without a hitch. But we’re pretty certain that the story of the transaction will live on for years to come.

Similarly, I was out in the yard speaking with my gardener the other day. With dismay we were looking at the state of our garden. I wanted to say that the rabbits (conejos) are eating the lettuce. Instead I said, “Los cangrejos estan comiendo las lechugas.” (“The crabs are eating the lettuce.”) My gardener looked at me and smiled. “Creo que no,” he said, (“I don’t think so”) “Estamos son muy lejos del mar.” (“We are very far from the sea.”)



Similar words can also have very different meanings. For example, “cama” means “bed” while “cara” means “face”. A friend from Portland, Oregon, was visiting San Miguel recently. He speaks Spanish fairly well and stopped in to visit his old landlady. As they were talking her pretty young daughter entered the room. “Recuerda mi hija?” his landlady asked, (“Remember my daughter?”) “Si,” he replied, turning to the daughter, “No recuerdo su nombre pero recuerdo su cama.” (“I don’t remember your name but I remember your bed.”)

There was a tense moment before they figured things out and then had a good laugh.

Antigua

By plane, Guatemala City is less than two hours from Mexico City. From Guatemala City it is a 45 minute taxi ride to Antigua.

I had been told that the city of Antigua is like San Miguel de Allende was 20 years ago. In terms of size I would agree, but clearly not from an infrastructure standpoint as ATM machines and internet cafes dot the town. Luxury boutique hotels can run $250 USD and up per night. But there are deals to be found and the city has a somewhat bohemian feel. Tourists can be found from all over the globe.

Volcanoes serve as back drops to the city, providing dramatic views when one looks up. However, architecturally speaking, Antigua doesn’t compare to San Miguel, largely because nearly all the building are single story and the town is flat; not built on a raise like San Miguel. However, like San Miguel, the architecture is colonial. Therefore, much of the beauty is found behind the walls wherein beautiful courtyard gardens lie.

Our hotel, Mansion del Pensativo (http://www.mansiondelpensativo.com/), was a perfect example of a secret well kept from the street. The rooms were clean and comfortable with great linens. But the exceptional beauty lies in the common areas and lush garden by the pool. The service was amazing. After dinner we’d return to the hotel and the proprietor would build a fire in the fireplace of the living room, and we’d sit by the baby grand piano sipping wine until bedtime. Breakfast was served on the patio with a view to the gardens and the volcano beyond.

Where Antigua wins big is in shopping and fine dining. For shopping it is all about textiles; fabrics woven with beautiful, vibrant colors (I bought a hammock our first day in town.) For dining it is international cuisine, fresh seafood; lamb from New Zealand.

I was a bit concerned one day, when Alex and I were walking through town and we passed a sign posted on a door that read: “Wanted!! Travelers with diarrhea.” The sign went on to describe a person’s qualifying characteristics and the type of treatment one could expect to receive. I said a short prayer that this was not an omen of things to come.

Pao and Cynthia joined Alex and me shortly after we returned from Lake Atitlan. We took them to Nicolas (http://www.nicolas.com.gt/) for dinner.

“Tell us about Lake Atitalan,” said Pao, “Did you meet any of the other guests at Villa Sumaya?”

“Yes,” said Cynthia, diving into her unagi appetizer with her chopsticks, “What were they like?”

Swallowing a bite of seasonal greens with sliced pear and shaved fresh parmesan cheese in a balsamic dressing, I began. “I didn’t really talk to many people. I spent most of my time with my nose in a book. There was a mother-daughter couple from Australia who were quite fun. We had a couple of meals with them; and they shared the taxi back to Antigua with us. The others were largely part of a retreat group that travels all over together.

“I did talk to one woman at breakfast. She was from somewhere in Northern California. We were talking about how clear and beautiful the lake water was and she said that she’d heard that it wasn’t safe to swim, even though some of her group had. When I asked her why it wasn’t safe, she said it was because of some kind of bacteria in the water. I asked her if she was talking about giardia but she didn’t know. I explained that every body of fresh water, whether it be a lake, stream or river, in the Northern hemisphere has giardia. You shouldn’t drink it but it is perfectly safe for swimming. “Even for women?” she asked. That gave me pause because I had to take a moment to remember the anatomical differences that might have led her to ask the question. “Not if you have a watertight cooch,” I thought.

“You didn’t say that!” Cynthia exclaimed, dropping a piece of unagi and splattering soy sauce on Alex’s pants.

Pao was laughing, “Watertight cooch!” she repeated.

“No,” I said, “Of course I didn’t SAY that to her. I just thought it. But even if she doesn’t, I don’t believe that that particular part of the body leads to the intestinal tract where giardia causes problems. I just told her that I’m no doctor but I thought it would be fine.”

“How do you spell “cooch” anyway?” asked Pao. “Is it with a “c” or a ‘k”?

“I think it’s with a “c” said Alex. “You can probably just go to the internet and type in cooch.com with either spelling and see what comes up.”

We went on to discuss the subject and whether any not-exactly-watertight-orifices might lead to risk. But we had to agree to defer the question to someone more qualified. (We’ve yet to do so.)