… the challenge of translating Dr. Suess into Spanish?
—–
I just got taken by a street vendor. Totally my own fault. I bargained him down. Then (because I didn’t properly calculate the local currency in my head, gave him the amount he originally asked for).
Only a couple of bucks, but it’s the principle of the thing. He’s probably chortling right now about the gringa estupida.
—–
Tomorrow I go on a boat tour. Feeding monkeys is involved. The tour guide recommended Oreos, but that sounds like simian abuse to me.
It is, BTW, a “three-hour tour.” Does that seem familiarly ominous, or what?
—–
Every morning I’ve been here, I’ve awakened thinking of Paul Simon’s “You Can Call Me Al.”
I don’t make a habit of that. Not in the usual run of things. I’m pretty sure it’s because of this verse:
A man walks down the street
It’s a street in a strange world
Maybe it’s the Third World
Maybe it’s his first time around
He doesn’t speak the language
He holds no currency
He is a foreign man
He is surrounded by the sound
The sound
Cattle in the marketplace
Scatterlings and orphanages
He looks around, around
He sees angels in the architecture
Spinning in infinity
He says Amen and Hallelujah!
Precisely. Except that instead of cattle in the marketplace it was goats in the park. Definitely lots of angels in the architecture. I don’t think gringos hold much currency here in the philosophical sense. Whether I should be trusted to hold currency in the literal sense is another question. By tomorrow, every vendor in the town square will probably have me in his or her sights.
Oh wait. They already did.
“By tomorrow, every vendor in the town square will probably have me in his or her sights.”
When I was in Guatemala, I swear that the markets all had runners announcing that a gringa was present. And I found it amazing that even in remote Indian villages, those “illiterate” Indians could bargain in their dialect, spanish and english. And since all touristas aren’t American, they could probably manage at least a few more languages as well. But it was sure fun.
Enjoy the monkeys! Hope you’re current on your shots. 😉
Karen — “… runners announcing that a gringa was present.” LOL, I wouldn’t be surprised. I didn’t realize you’d been in Guatemala. Recently? Long time ago? But for sure, the “gringo-sensing” instincts in these parts of the world are extraordinarily sharp.
No, it hasn’t been recently – 1969 – and I suspect that things have changed a lot, like everywhere else. But those little tiny Indians did amaze me with their skills. Nowadays they probably have I-phones for their translations.
I’m enjoying your updates and having lots of fun travelling vicariously with you.
All this is making me remember my stay in Mexico long ago, 1986. I went down to the east coast of Baja with friends after my husband died. We were supposed to stay two weeks, but it turned out to be months for various reasons. I’m just lucky my landlord was willing to watch my home and my mother had taken my dog.
Anyway, we shopped in San Felipe, about 60K north, using an old “dune buggy” because the road was simply horrible. None of the store employees spoke English (that I remember), and my Spanish was not terrific, but my host spoke excellent Spanish.
Everyone he spoke to smiled and many giggled, however, because he was from Finland. Did you ever hear someone speak Spanish with a Finnish accent? Even literal old me thought it was hilarious. But we got the job done… and he was an awesome trader. He could haggle with the best of them. And the beautiful part is that we all enjoyed it, and came away thinking we’d had the best of the bargain. Can’t beat that.
Years ago, justas the Falklands war was going on, I was stationed in Belize. You needed anything just ask one of the local kids. They would know had it, how much and how quickly you could get it. Since many also had very erratic and basic schooling it was amazing how quickly they could calculate their percentage lol.
I am not sure how the laws etc are there these days but back then as an alternative ‘home’ it was excellent. Yes they have firearms laws there but once out in the rural areas most rules and regulations had only casual consideration. It was not uncommon to see locals hunting with AK variants as well as .22s of every description and shotguns from modern ti museum pieces. There was also very little crime.
If you do end up shipwrecked on an “uncharted desert isle”, just remember you are living my dream. Well, one of them.
But isn’t this Latin America? Don’t they speak Latin? Shouldn’t they be selling this?
LOL! Dana. So they’re all speaking Latin down here, eh? Well, that would certainly explain why I fail so badly to understand them. I’m half tempted to buy that Dr. Suess book (yours). And hey, you even used my link!
The “three-hour tour” boat ride turned into a Spanish lesson. I was the only passenger (felt bad about that; kind of a waste of the tour company’s time) and the ambitious young guide, David (Da-VEED) decided to give me a lesson. It was a pretty limited lesson, but as of today I can bore people about my dogs in two languages.
Kent — Sorry to disappoint. But I’m back now. No SS Minnow. No uncharted desert isle.
Roger — Interesting memories of Belize. I’ve thought of going there; hear a lot of good things about it. I can’t guess how it might have changed, but it seems that, the world over, rural areas give only “casual consideration” to rules and regulations.
MamaLiberty — Other than the part about your husband dying … what a great adventure! Haven’t heard any Finns speaking Spanish yet that I know of. Did sit next to a guy from Luxemborg yesterday who spoke it better than I did.
I’m envisioning the Muppets’ Swedish Chef in Spanish.
Sorry, Kent. The time of the Minnow has sailed. Now if you find someplace, somewhere, that’s uncharted the Google truck shows up.