Espanol, Castillano, Valenciano - It's all Greek to me! (or Coping with the Language Barrier in Spain)
A comment some of our Spanish friends have said to us is, "In Spain, we speak very bad English." There's always a follow-up that they speak English with perfect grammar but don't have the listening or conversational skills. But I feel that if I could speak Spanish as "badly" as they speak English, there would be no language barrier for me! Maybe they are speaking about the country as a whole and not themselves specifically, but still...
I've managed to cobble together a less than rudimentary understanding of Spanish from Dora the Explorer, Sesame Street, Diego and menus at Mexican restaurants combined with my knowledge of French and Tagalog. (Luckily there are many Tagalog words in common, but how often do I really need to know that horse is caballo?) I can read the words and even fake the pronunciation (sometimes) and in the proper context (mostly grocery stores and restaurants), I can figure out what's going on for the most part. I can speak very simple, child-like phrases. And sometimes, I even know what someone is asking me. I just can't answer in Spanish. At that point, I stumble and say, "Perdone...me habla solo une poquito Espanol." (I hope I'm saying, "Sorry but I only speak a little Spanish.") Or "No entiende" (I don't understand.) is another commonly used phrase. I know I'm butchering the language in every possible way - grammar, spelling, probably pronunciation as well. And there are times when staring at the words or hearing someone speak to me in Spanish, I feel a little on the illiterate side. It would be totally disheartening except that no one has been bothered by my terrible Spanish (yet). In fact, it seems that people appreciate that I/we at least try. Of course, we're usually with the girls. Maybe the people are so enamored with the children that they just ignore our horrible Spanish.
But really, my experience not knowing the language here has been so different than in other countries. The people have been more laid-back, more forgiving. We seem to fit in a bit more. On more than one occasion, I've been asked for directions. Once, while I knew what the woman was asking, I couldn't help her because
1) I didn't know the words to explain.
2) I'm horrible at giving directions. (Those closest to me know this very well!)
The second time, I could tell the person where to go because she wanted to go to my home away from home El Corte Ingles. We were walking along the river, she was on a bike. She asked if she was going the right way to El Corte Ingles. The path basically goes straight to the store. I was so happy I knew what she was asking me and I could reply simply, "Si."
As for the girls, if we were here for a longer amount of time, I really believe that both would be speaking and thinking first in Spanish. Already in our short three weeks here, Miia is starting to answer us in Spanish. "What would you like to drink Miia?" Her response, "Agua." "Are you finished with your food, Miia?" "Si," she replies. While they're very simple answers, she gave her replies quickly as if that is how the answers popped up in her head first. As for Analea, she is at the age where she really understands what is said to her and is saying "Hola" (in a baby language way) before "Hello." We were at a taberna once, sitting near the door. As each person walked in, Analea would chime "hola" in the sing-songy way she hears people speak to her. And both turn on the charm in a big way on the bus, in our building, on the street, in the restaurants, in the grocery store (really wherever there are humans within sight of us) whenever someone oozes, "Oh, que guapas!" ("Oh, how cute!") First of all, it's amazing to see how quickly both of the girls have picked up on when people are gushing over them! More importantly, it's amazing to me how quickly they both seem to be wrapping their minds around a different language. It's a testament to how much children's brains can absorb and learn.
As for my brain, I hope I'm absorbing something. I've mastered the important "Vino tinto, por favor." ("Red wine, please.) But when I go to the corner bakery to buy some bread and the woman working there asks me something, it would be nice to be able to determine if she's asking "Is that all?" or "Would you like anything more?" And then it would be nice to be able to reply correctly, instead of pantomiming "That's all."
It's these small, every-day instances that really make me empathize with non-native English speakers and non-English speakers in the States. I always have, but now I'm on the other side. I always understood that speaking the language LOUDER does not make you easier to understand. However, slowing down and using simpler sentences with less slang does. A conversation with our next door neighbor here in Valencia is a good example of that. During our first week here, she knew that we were trying to find a school for Miia. She takes care of her grand-daughter who attends a school within walking distance of the apartment. She offered to ask if there were openings at the school. We ran into her in the hallway and she mentioned this to us. She said she could talk to the secretary and set up an appointment for us to talk to the school. I spit out, "Puede Miercules?" ("Maybe Wednesday?" for the appointment) She told us she would ask and get back to us in the morning. The following day, she rang the bell. John wasn't home so it was up to me to decipher her conversation with me. When she started talking, seriously, what I heard was something similar to how the grown-ups sound on the Charlie Brown cartoons. I must have had a look of total confusion on my face because she suddenly stopped and asked, "No entiende?" ("You understand?") I shook my head. She repeated what she said slower (but still in Spanish) and this time I was able to pick out some words and then she handed me a piece of paper with a phone number. Basically, she said she was sorry that there was no space at the school but maybe we could find room somewhere else. The number she gave me was to the City Hall where we could find more information on other schools. The moment of understanding on my part was both a frustrating and happy one at the same time. Frustrating because our conversation was one-sided. I couldn't really reply to her. Happy because I could understand the basics of what she was telling me the second time around.
After our experiences here, I've decided that I will take a Spanish class once we return to Illinois. I'm sure we'll be back in Spain one day. And John has many Spanish-speaking students. I can practice (and butcher) the language with them. Adios, amigos!
I've managed to cobble together a less than rudimentary understanding of Spanish from Dora the Explorer, Sesame Street, Diego and menus at Mexican restaurants combined with my knowledge of French and Tagalog. (Luckily there are many Tagalog words in common, but how often do I really need to know that horse is caballo?) I can read the words and even fake the pronunciation (sometimes) and in the proper context (mostly grocery stores and restaurants), I can figure out what's going on for the most part. I can speak very simple, child-like phrases. And sometimes, I even know what someone is asking me. I just can't answer in Spanish. At that point, I stumble and say, "Perdone...me habla solo une poquito Espanol." (I hope I'm saying, "Sorry but I only speak a little Spanish.") Or "No entiende" (I don't understand.) is another commonly used phrase. I know I'm butchering the language in every possible way - grammar, spelling, probably pronunciation as well. And there are times when staring at the words or hearing someone speak to me in Spanish, I feel a little on the illiterate side. It would be totally disheartening except that no one has been bothered by my terrible Spanish (yet). In fact, it seems that people appreciate that I/we at least try. Of course, we're usually with the girls. Maybe the people are so enamored with the children that they just ignore our horrible Spanish.
But really, my experience not knowing the language here has been so different than in other countries. The people have been more laid-back, more forgiving. We seem to fit in a bit more. On more than one occasion, I've been asked for directions. Once, while I knew what the woman was asking, I couldn't help her because
1) I didn't know the words to explain.
2) I'm horrible at giving directions. (Those closest to me know this very well!)
The second time, I could tell the person where to go because she wanted to go to my home away from home El Corte Ingles. We were walking along the river, she was on a bike. She asked if she was going the right way to El Corte Ingles. The path basically goes straight to the store. I was so happy I knew what she was asking me and I could reply simply, "Si."
As for the girls, if we were here for a longer amount of time, I really believe that both would be speaking and thinking first in Spanish. Already in our short three weeks here, Miia is starting to answer us in Spanish. "What would you like to drink Miia?" Her response, "Agua." "Are you finished with your food, Miia?" "Si," she replies. While they're very simple answers, she gave her replies quickly as if that is how the answers popped up in her head first. As for Analea, she is at the age where she really understands what is said to her and is saying "Hola" (in a baby language way) before "Hello." We were at a taberna once, sitting near the door. As each person walked in, Analea would chime "hola" in the sing-songy way she hears people speak to her. And both turn on the charm in a big way on the bus, in our building, on the street, in the restaurants, in the grocery store (really wherever there are humans within sight of us) whenever someone oozes, "Oh, que guapas!" ("Oh, how cute!") First of all, it's amazing to see how quickly both of the girls have picked up on when people are gushing over them! More importantly, it's amazing to me how quickly they both seem to be wrapping their minds around a different language. It's a testament to how much children's brains can absorb and learn.
As for my brain, I hope I'm absorbing something. I've mastered the important "Vino tinto, por favor." ("Red wine, please.) But when I go to the corner bakery to buy some bread and the woman working there asks me something, it would be nice to be able to determine if she's asking "Is that all?" or "Would you like anything more?" And then it would be nice to be able to reply correctly, instead of pantomiming "That's all."
It's these small, every-day instances that really make me empathize with non-native English speakers and non-English speakers in the States. I always have, but now I'm on the other side. I always understood that speaking the language LOUDER does not make you easier to understand. However, slowing down and using simpler sentences with less slang does. A conversation with our next door neighbor here in Valencia is a good example of that. During our first week here, she knew that we were trying to find a school for Miia. She takes care of her grand-daughter who attends a school within walking distance of the apartment. She offered to ask if there were openings at the school. We ran into her in the hallway and she mentioned this to us. She said she could talk to the secretary and set up an appointment for us to talk to the school. I spit out, "Puede Miercules?" ("Maybe Wednesday?" for the appointment) She told us she would ask and get back to us in the morning. The following day, she rang the bell. John wasn't home so it was up to me to decipher her conversation with me. When she started talking, seriously, what I heard was something similar to how the grown-ups sound on the Charlie Brown cartoons. I must have had a look of total confusion on my face because she suddenly stopped and asked, "No entiende?" ("You understand?") I shook my head. She repeated what she said slower (but still in Spanish) and this time I was able to pick out some words and then she handed me a piece of paper with a phone number. Basically, she said she was sorry that there was no space at the school but maybe we could find room somewhere else. The number she gave me was to the City Hall where we could find more information on other schools. The moment of understanding on my part was both a frustrating and happy one at the same time. Frustrating because our conversation was one-sided. I couldn't really reply to her. Happy because I could understand the basics of what she was telling me the second time around.
After our experiences here, I've decided that I will take a Spanish class once we return to Illinois. I'm sure we'll be back in Spain one day. And John has many Spanish-speaking students. I can practice (and butcher) the language with them. Adios, amigos!
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