Benevolence

Three years in México and the language still gets away from me. To be fair, I’ve had huge misunderstandings with people in English; Spanish simply adds spice.

Yesterday, slogging back from provisioning, towing the wagon, the gatekeeper at the athletic field asked, “¿Se vende?” The fatigued interpreter in my brain translated this to “What did you buy?” so I replied, “Abarrotes,” groceries. I was surprised when she grabbed the bag of corn chips, so I said, “Hey hey hey!” thinking, that’s pretty forward. I mean, curiosity is okay, but buy your own snacks, lady. She let it go, and still opened the gate for me, so I gave her a red rose in thanks. But it wasn’t until after I had stored everything on Habibi that I realized she wanted to know if I was selling. She even clarified after the chips incident, “¿Para usted?” These are for you? I nodded then, but didn’t untangle the confusion until later.

Another time, in San Blas, I brightly told two guys at a neighboring restaurant table, “¡My legs are delicious!” thinking I was commenting on the hungry mosquito population. They got quite twinkly, those dudes. Probably didn’t help that I was wearing a skirt. Or maybe it did.

Despite the Lucille Ball-isms, most folks are super kind and helpful. Only twice have my conversational attempts been criticized — in three years!

It’s a benevolent planet, indeed.

Books:
Diary of a Reluctant Traveler: 15 months on the road from coast to coast to coast—solo
Sea Change: stories & splashes
Shoulds are for Saints: the true life adventures of Suzy Le Speed
Dance First …ask questions later: poems & paintings