Do I actually speak Spanish? Part II

 
"No se puede subir con las maletas." [You can't get on with your luggage.]
"Cómo?  Ok, pero --" [What?  Okay, but --]
"Do you speak English?"
"Hablo español." [I speak Spanish]
"You can't go on with your bags."
"Si, entiendo, pero que puedo hacer entonces?" [Yes, I understand, but then what can I do?]
"Bag to me, please, it goes under boat."
"Y se busca cuando llegamos, cierto?" [And you get it when we arrive, right?]
"Si."  

Here I was last Saturday, getting on the ferry at 7 AM, suddenly told I couldn’t take my bag on board; in my confusion, I betrayed some element of my foreignness, and the conductor switched to English.  Clearly, this person had only good intentions, and moreover, this may have been a rare opportunity for him to practice English, while I get to practice Spanish all day, all year.   Yet this makes me the kind of mad where I could almost cry.  I SPEAK SPANISH!  I AM SURE I SPEAK SPANISH BETTER THAN YOU SPEAK ENGLISH!

When I was in Mexico, I refused to speak English with anyone.  When traveling, my Wellesley friend and I would speak Spanish with each other, and tell people we were Russian or Swedish if anyone tried to speak English with us.  One time, a Mexican friend introduced me to someone, who said excitedly, “Oh great, I can practice English with you!”

“I wouldn’t say that to her, she’ll get mad,” responded my friend.  He was joking, but also kind of serious.  I realized that my adamance about English was a bit selfish, given that my opportunity to study abroad and to live in my target language was, well, a privilege.

Two years later, the learning continues.  Here are some field notes from winter vacation:

 

People who have asked me if I’m Chilean (with time before they popped the question):

[Note: This doesn’t mean they necessarily thought I actually was Chilean, but at least it was a question worth asking]

• Airport taxi guys in Santiago (5 minutes) *this was my best yet*
• grandson of Mignonette, Smith alum (5 words)
• French Swiss tourists (2 minutes)
• German tourist (1 minute)
• Chilean college student next to me on bus (2 minutes) [when I said I live in Palena, he asked me if I was from Palena]

People who have said, “Yes, you speak like a Chilean”:

• [Argentine] women in line at Teatro Colon, Buenos Aires
• [Argentine] college professor, Buenos Aires
• [Chilean] Concepción journalist from Neruda tour

People who have said “But you speak so well…?!” when I reveal my nationality:

• Chilean girl in Valpo hostel (5 minutes)
• Spanish girls in Valpo hostel (1 hour)
• dude at Valpo restaurant (30 minutes) (“Pero hablas perfecto!” — but you speak perfectly!)
• nephew of my Palena students when we met in Santiago (1 minute)
• Mignonette (2 days) (“Hablas perfecto” also)

People who have pegged me as a foreigner:

• waiter in Valdivia (“Chestnut cake… do you know what chestnuts are?”)
• Dunkin’ Donuts people (I blanked on the word for straw)
• waiter in pizza place in Valpo (I blanked on the word for funicular)
• receptionist on phone at Valdivia hotel (And I’ll just need your passport number — you have an international passport, right?)

People I have “let” speak English with me (something I never did in Mexico):

• waiter at Melbourne cafe in Valpo (lived in Australia for several years)
• Mignonette & her family
• people at Happy Hour in Santiago

I’ll admit it, I absolutely love when someone mistakes me for Chilean — if momentarily — and I’ll take any complements on my Spanish I can get, though I always respond to “You speak perfectly!” with something like, “I still have plenty to work on!”  Here’s the thing: I’m not done.  I’m just not.  Sure, my Spanish has improved a ton this year: I understand and use many (most?) Chilenismos, I’ve learned a lot of vocabulary, even my grammar has improved.  And contrary to what we tend to think about living abroad, it’s not in the air — rather, it’s in the work.  I ask questions, I make lists, I practice, I even study conjugations.  And yet… I want so much more.

As one of my good friends who has recently returned to her beloved language (Japanese) said:

ugh it is so weird to have so many feelings about somebody else's language

Why do I care so much?  I took intro Spanish at Smith (ultimately instead of continuing French) because I wanted to be a teacher and thought it would be handy to be able to communicate with my Latino students’ families.  Four years later, I am in my second extended stay in a region that had barely entered my consciousness before college.  I salivate over that map, scheming and dreaming about where to go next.  My interest in Spanish has gone far beyond the practical, particularly in a US context.  Now, I want to be able to navigate regional differences, I want to get every grammar detail right, I want to be able to write and read at the same level as I can in English.

So what next?  For 2012, I’m not sure.  But check out the forecast for this week: