Because I am a relentless pre-planner, I spent the last six or so weeks brushing up on my Tijuanglish so that I could order food in Barcelona eateries without looking like an ugly American. I am a guest in this country, so being the asshole who barrels into el bar shouting "YOU SPEAK ENGLISH?" makes me want to Iberia all over the place. Even though I am familiar with the wrong type of Spanish (aforementioned Tijuanglish, from my four years in the C-Juana), I made sure to buy a SPAIN Spanish phrasebook and learn how to ask for a sandwich, a glass of water, etc. Because I just happen to not look like a standard American (thanks, Mom and Dad for not being whitey-white white people!) and I don't want to behave like one either. (BURN!)
I was unaware that mi marido had made the decision that I would be his personal translator, so when I ordered my tortilla verdures y cafe con leche (dios mio, the BEST COFFEE I'VE EVER HAD, with milk that had a layer of real CREAM in it!) and I did not order for him, he got angry at me. This is one of the recurring themes of my life: I am the most competent person in a given group, and when I do not cover the asses of the less competent, I am some kind of asshole. It was a HUGE PRIORITY to me to be able to communicate in Spanish at a rudimentary level; it was not with someone else. Why am I the bad person? My priorities are awesome!
(non-Spanish aside: in my research on gifted education, a lot of American programs REQUIRE THE GIFTIES TO "HELP" THE AVERAGE-TO-STUPID KIDS WITH THEIR WORK! Free labor! Fucking A, I hate people.)
We lingered for a bit in el bar. People smoke in restaurants here and no one seems to be in a hurry. In fact, you couldn't even get cafe con leche to go, because why would you want to go anywhere with your coffee?
Posted by Zerd at December 20, 2007 04:43 AM