The depth of my obstinacy has been surprising (that and the fact that zapato (shoe) and zapallo (squash) are two very different words, and when ordering food, it’s best to go with the zapallo and not the zapato).
Recently I found myself challenging a Chilean about HIS language, and worse, I thought nothing of it. I kept right on arguing (he could’ve been wrong, you know) until he gave up and said, “You must be right. Let’s go with your version of Spanish.”
Yeah, not my best moment.
In fact, now that I think about it, I questioned him on several occasions throughout the evening, and while he tried to teach me how to speak Chilean Spanish, I adamantly insisted in the opposite. Here is an example of one of our conversations:
Him: It would be encontrarás. En-con-trar-as.
Him: No. En-con-trar-as.
Me: That’s what I said. Anyway, I remember it being the infinitive, not the future.
Him: It’s grammatically correct in the future.
Me: But that’s not how I remember it.
Him: That’s how it is.
Me: I don’t believe you.
Which parent did I inherit this fine trait from? I would really like to blame someone for this.
But now that I think about it, perhaps I can thank this lovely trait (along with so friends and family who helped me get here) for being in Chile—because when I got resistance from people about Chile or when I read anything bad about Chile, I would just decide they were wrong and merrily continue packing. (By the way, obstinacy is also how people get eaten by tigers.)
Thankfully, no tigers in
On another note, I realized that a couple of weeks ago, I accidentally told my Polynesian dance teacher I liked her…as in liked her liked her if you get my drift. The thing is, I only realized it recently after a conversation about the stages of dating and the phrases of dating (me caes bien, te gusta, te guiero, te amo). The first can be said to friends and beginning romances. The rest are for romantic encounters only.
So, anyway, I told my dance teacher that I wanted to pay her the full price of the classes even though I knew I could claim a discount because…and here was the foible…I liked her…a lot. Now that I recall the scene in my head, her eyes had gotten really wide and she paused for a moment and then asked, trying to correct me, “Because you really like the class?” Where I think I made it worse by saying, “Yes, and you too.” Oops!
Do other language learners have these problems or am I the only one who manages to stumble into these awkward situations? Perhaps the difference is that I’m willing to write about it?
Okay. That’s all for now…pictures are coming, I swear!
And of course…
Que te vaya bien! (Thanks Nacho for correcting this sign off…and thanks for not leaving me in
C in C