Speaking another language, such as Spanish, is not just about the words one uses. It is as much about the context of usage, and the “normal” ways in which something is said. And that usage can be very different from country to country, so that even if all the individual words are understood, the collection of them, falling outside the norms of expression, may not be. Witness (what should have been a simple) conversation at the bakery a few minutes ago:
“Hi, I’d like to buy a slice of one of your tarts”
“Ok, what kind?”
“What kinds do you have?”
“Meat, Chicken, Vegetable…”
“What kind of meat is in the meat tart?”
“Pieces”
“But what kind of meat? Beef?”
“Chopped into small pieces, with some vegetables”
“I understand it is in pieces, but WHAT KIND of meat is it?”
“Meat. It is meat. I don’t know what you mean…”
“What KIND of animal is the meat from?”
“Oh. Cow.”
“Thanks.”
Today at lunch, my friend Thomas pointed out to me incredibly (subsequently verified on the internet) that the Spanish word for “handcuffs” is “esposas“, the singular form of which (esposa) means “wife”.
I have to say, the Spanish word for railroad, Ferrocarriles, is one of the most difficult words to pronounce. I will consider it a major language victory if I ever am able to roll my r’s properly.
Many years ago in college, my friends and I would discuss an idea for a party that we never executed. The idea was that at the door to the party, everyone would be required to put on a blindfold, and spend the next couple of hours at the party meeting and talking to people without the aid of sight. Then at one point in the party, everyone would take off their blindfold and see the people that they had been talking to. The idea of course was that we all make a significant number of judgements about people based on nothing other than their appearance, and it would be a refreshing exercise to interact without this particular filter. Would we have picked the same people to talk to had the blindfold not been present? Or would we have retreated to our tried and true visual shorthand?
In a similar way, I have noticed that here in Mexico I have on a kind of blindfold, albeit linguistic. Since I am still in the fairly early stages of learning the language, a lot of subtlety related to slang, nuance, class, gesture and the like is lost on me. Because of this, the friends I have made here are a pretty divergent bunch. I am not at all certain that they would like or even get along with each other. I was aware of this phenomenon in France many years ago when I was in a homologous situation learning the ins and outs of the language. It takes a number of years in a culture before we make shorthand judgements of people. I am probably applying some of my American ones to people in a possibly inappropriate way here (although less inappropriate than applying these same filters in India for example, as Mexicans and Americans firmly share Western culture).
There is no doubt that we develop this shorthand over many years and for many good reasons as a kind of social self-protection mechanism. But it is just as true that we develop many of these traits for less than savory reasons, to bring us closer to the people that match our backgrounds, race, ethnicity, political world view, gender, religion or other. Human beings have a tendency to want to have their identities reinforced, strengthened, justified and validated. But look how much we are missing in the process. Although the effort is larger, sometimes the greatest rewards come from reaching out to the other, the unfamiliar, or even the frightening or hated. Being here in the preliminary phase of cultural imprint and understanding, I am lucky indeed to be wearing the blindfold.
I am used to online chatting (via AIM and the like) being an exercise in reduction, contraction and abbreviation. And for the most part that holds true here in Mexico, with one little odd exception. The word for “yes” is “si”, but in IM conversations a lot of people will write “sip” to mean the same thing. I guess it is kind of like saying “yeah” or “yep”, but it seems odd in the context of an IM to go for longer rather than shorter words.
I was invited to a fancy restaurant dinner last night to celebrate my neighbor Israel’s 40th birthday. It was lovely, but also quite tiring trying to follow the fast flying remarks of the seven other guests at the table. At my level of Spanish, I just don’t yet understand enough of the language to be much more than a grasping observer. This got me thinking about the level of difficulty in various situations when trying to communicate in a non-native language.
Groups - These are always problematic. Trying to follow the volley of conversation, and jokes built upon jokes is extremely difficult. If you miss one link in the chain, it can be almost impossible to pick it up again until a new subject is broached.
Telephone - The advantage in talking one on one, in person with someone is that you have the advantage of hand movements and facial expressions as a surprisingly good guide to what they are saying apart from mere words. On the phone, you have no such luxury and it can be a struggle to understand.
Movies - These are somewhat like group settings, but the dialog is usually more nuanced and can be even more fast paced.
Speech patterns - People have an amazing variety of education levels, slang usage, vocal tics and other speech patterns that result in some people being very easy to understand and others being next to impossible.
There is a specific type of Mexican accent that is recognized in the US, or at least it seemed that way to me before coming here. It is represented in many parts of American culture. I can’t think of any specific examples at the moment other than the man in the bee suit on TV in various Simpsons episodes. This accent is very particular, more of a tonal drawl or lilt, and it is the basis of a stereotype Americans have about how “all” Mexicans sound in speech. I’m certain there are racial and cultural bias overtones as well to this perceived trait.
In any event, since coming to Mexico I haven’t heard this accent or tonal drawl at all in the numerous people I have met. I have detected a variety of accents and manners of speaking in various people. Some use a lot more slang than others, as in any language group. And then last night, for the first time down on the street outside my window, I heard a young woman conversing with her boyfriend in that voice, that lilt. It really took me by surprise for I had completely forgotten about it until now. When I asked Julio about it, he told me it was mostly a class distinction, that the voice we were hearing was from a poor area, which was interesting, because I tend to think of accents as being more about region than about class or economics. But of course that is silly, the world is filled with multitudes of accents linked to subculture as well as place.
Language just fascinates the hell out of me.
Ojalá is a Spanish word that means “hopefully”. Someone may be describing something like possibly getting a promotion next week and then say “ojalá”. I have just recently become aware of this word and it puzzled me the first time I saw it. I couldn’t figure out its root or context clearly, so I looked it up on the internet. It is derived from the Arabic “Insha’Allah”, meaning “if God wills it”. This is one of many words that came to the Spanish language at the time of the Muslim rule of the Iberian Peninsula from the 8th to the 15th centuries. In fact, Spanish (and Portuguese, for that matter) has been changed rather dramatically in ways that other romance languages were not because of this history.