Sunday, August 4, 2013

Mi Espanol Horrible


My attempt to communicate in Spanish with the students resulted in some hilarious moments.

            The last class each day was a group of ten students ages nine to twelve years. These students were cousins and friends, so they loved being together, but they were also eager to learn piano. I thought they were overly sober for children, and had begun to wonder if some of them ever laughed. I tried to  have time each day for  them to practice with earphones, and I would listen to a few individually.  Each reacted with a big smile when I praised their efforts, but then the smiles dissolved and they were serious again. So I was truly surprised when they were taking a written theory examination, and I made a request that I always make of my Texas students: “Keep your eyes on your own papers, please!”  Except I mixed up my verbs and actually said, “”Put your eyes on your own papers, please!”  Instantly, they all burst into laughter, and they couldn’t stop. They weren’t being disrespectful; they'd just never received such an instruction before.



Here’s the class with the addition of a younger student and an older student in their group recital picture.

            Then on the last day of the morning adult class, within half an hour I made three flubs. First, I was trying to give John Mann’s salaried helper, Jorge, who was also in the class, instructions on where to find the new hymn books John had bought for the recitals. I didn’t know the Spanish word for mannequin, so I told him they were on the small table next to the dead woman in John’s house. Of course, that surprised the students. Then Megan suggested we bring the mannequin to the recitals and set her on a chair to hold programs out for guests to take as they entered the room. More laughter. I don’t think I’ll forget that the Spanish word for mannequin is the same word with the accent on the last syllable instead of the first.



            Just after that miscommunication, I glanced at Megan’s legs and was shocked to see how her bites had become infected because she keeps scratching them. The class was surprised as well. Then, boasting, I told them I eat lots of garlic, and bugs don’t bite me. I pulled up my skirt to show my legs had no bites. I said, “My blood stinks, so bugs leave me alone. Megan doesn’t eat garlic – her blood is sweet, so the bugs bite her.”

            Then Adaly said it was the same with her little girl, Nicole – that she gets bites every day. So I said, “You need to feed Nicole lots of garlic!,” but what I actually said was, “You need to feed Nicole lots of eyes!” “Ajos” is “garlic,” and “ojos” is “eyes.”

            When Jorge played his recital hymn during our last rehearsal, I announced that his family, including his grandchildren,  were coming to hear him play. The students asked him how many grandchildren he had, and he told them seven. After the compliments, and comments that he must have married really young because he didn’t look old enough to have seven grandchildren, he said, “Let me tell you my story. My mother died when I was eight, and so I did all the cooking for our family. By the time I was 17, I wanted to get married so I could get out of the kitchen.”

            Now understand that he was speaking rapidly, and the word for kitchen is “cocina.” But all the words ran together, and though I was trying to understand, I got lost. I asked, “Is he saying he got married when he was 17 because he got hooked on cocaine?” Honestly, I wasn’t trying to be funny.


This photo is Jorge with his wife, daughters, and grandchildren. 
It was taken outside the church just after his recital.
          

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