It's been over 12 years since I last spoke Spanish. I don't count my holas in Cancun a few years ago at all - that place is annexed by tourism to English speakers.
My 2 weeks in Ecuador were filled with my atrocious Spanish. Every time someone would speak to me in Spanish I'd understand what they said and then on top of clamming up when trying to respond I just couldn't remember the right words. My vocabulary has gone to hell and hearing a word I'd remember what it meant but trying to pull that same word out of my brain was utterly futile. It was a very humbling experience; it was a very fun experience. It was insanely frustrating to my perfectionist side, embarrassing a lot of the time, slow, awkward, entertaining and a whole other gamut of emotions when trying to communicate.
Every Ecuadorian I talked to though was the most gracious person dealing with me - the bumbling American tourist who could partially butcher their language. They spoke slowly, repeated things, corrected my Spanish with the most manners ever and encouraged me more than anyone's ever encouraged me - to talk and learn their language. It was incredible - it was like they embraced me because they could tell me many many things and they wanted me to talk too.
I avoided speaking as much as possible. Except I spoke daily because it was just the way to get by - I found myself the translator so many times - most of the time doing more translating into English than Spanish, but sometimes just asking a simple question in Spanish. And sometimes I was translating for complete strangers in the hacienda or in the market.
I think the most amazing day of Spanish for me was when I went out in the Imbaburra Province with my bilingual guide Hans who had the most amazing grasp of English of any of the Ecuadorians I spoke to. He found out within 15 minutes of meeting me I understood him when he spoke Spanish so the entire day was an immersion in Spanish for me. It was probably one of the most amazing tours I've ever been on and that was no little part of it - the fact he was so warm, so inviting me into his culture, his community, his language - that made the day sparkle.
Then there were the other experiences I had speaking Spanish - and by other I don't mean bad, I mean utterly and totally hysterical. These were times that all put together rival the skanktastic swimsuit I wrote about last night....
On the ship my experience with Spanish was vastly different than when I was in the Andes. I wasn't the lone English speaker surrounded by Spanish. I got to speak English 90% of the time. However the only person in the "crew" who spoke English more than a few choice words (ie - shark, sealion, boat) was the national park guide - the other 7 crew members spoke Spanglish - Spanish with a smattering of English. They did it to varying degrees, some speaking at you regardless of if you understood it and others being very quiet.
I think of all the English speaking tourists on the ship, I probably understood the most. I know some of my shipmates were at varying states of learning Spanish, but I was talking to the crew at times. And my oh my - the crew was a cast of characters. Other than the pain-in-the-ass but really smart and a great storyteller national park guide, we had 7 other crew members - 1 woman in the entire group and the rest men. There were a few that stood out and come to the forefront of my story now because of my interactions with them.
So first of all I'll introduce Carlos the Engineer. Carlos dealt with all the mechanical and electrical woes of the ship. He also passed out life jackets, made sure we got in and out of the dingies safely, went snorkeling with us one day, spoke no English, helped Carlos the bartender / assistant captain get me flippers, hugged everyone on the ship, and talked at you in Spanish with tons of charades going on regardless of how much or how little you understood. He'd beam at me every time I went by to refill my water bottle cause I'd stop and have a 2 min convo in Spanish with him and he got to teach me some new words (which I won't write here cause I can't spell 'em - I learned sealion, snorkel, cactus, mask, flippers, dingy and a few others).
The second person to be introduced is Carlos the assistant captain who we saw in the role of bartender and dingy driver more than anything else. Carlos was on the younger side of our crew and he was really quiet. He'd stand at the bar grinning every day during happy hour, he'd monkey around the ship getting bananas down for banana pina coladas, he drove the dingy like a madman (his was the dingy to be in - so much faster than Gallos), and he only ever got really excited about the soccer game that happened when we were on our tour - he talked to me about that for quite a while when I had to ice my ankle after a snorkeling flipper stuck under rock incident.
Thirdly I'll introduce the least known character who provides the comic relief - Johan. Yes, like Hans I met an Ecuadorian named Johan. He was one of our cooks and we really never saw him other than at snack time when he'd give us our food / drink like little elementary school kids. He spoke less English than both Carloses combined and was very quiet - generally in the kitchen.
Finally, for names sake, our guide was Luis who spoke English fluently and was a pain in the tookus, but had the ability to be rather entertaining too. He also liked to try to get people to dance during happy hour. As my last post shows, I gave in right away since I'm a sucker for dancing.
So with this cast of characters in mind, my last 48 hrs on the ship progressed into what could only be described as the oddest set of occurrences I never expected on my vacation to the Galapagos.
Ecuadorian men are fans of the women and like the bad stereotype of the Latin man, just go with that image for a bit - but place it on the characters I've given you the briefest description of.
Now, on the last full day in the Galapagos, with only one night left on the boat, I'm walking along the beach relaxing, looking at sealions and mocking birds, enjoying the sun since I knew I had enough sunblock on. Luis is walking with me. All of a sudden this conversation occurred (much to my shock as Luis and I had a tenuous truce after our early snorkeling fiasco which I don't plan to write about here):
Luis: I have a question for you. Just one question. Hear me out.
Me: ooookay......
Luis: Do you like the crew?
Me: Yes, they're all really nice and helpful.
Luis: Do you like one person better than the rest?
Me: Nooo... They're all really nice. They're good people.
Luis: Are you sure there isn't just one?
Me: Yes, Luis, I'm sure.
Luis: I'm not so sure... but you're sure?
Me: They're all nice but there isn't one I like better. I promise...
At that point I'm holding back the peels of laughter that just want to emanate from my body. Am I back in elementary / middle school - seriously? Am I 12 again? Really? Did that pre-teen conversation just happen between 2 adults?? And I was part of it? And oh dear lord....
I tell Danielle; we giggle like preteens which is the only appropriate reaction to that other than the "seriously, are we 12?"
Later that day I'm reading out on the back of the boat after we eat lunch. Johan comes up to use his cell phone (yes, there was good cell reception in the islands even from the boat). A conversation occurs in Spanish which I'll translate / paraphrase here. Again, remember, I'm in the middle school twilight zone of the Galapagos - a place that occurs somewhere near Espanola Island when there's a woman on board who speaks some but not much Spanish and a bunch of lonely sailors.
Johan: Hi, I'm Johan.
Me: Hi.
Johan: Your name?
Me: Yvette.
Johan: Are you having a good trip?
Me: Yes.
Johan: Would you like to see the stars tonight?
Me: What?
Johan: Would you like to see the stars with me tonight? [yes, the clarification happened and was needed]
Me: Ummmm...
Johan: They're very pretty at night - the only light. Would you like to see the stars.
Me after stammering and forgetting all Spanish at the twilight zone I just realized I was in: I don't know....
End scene with Yvette walking (in my mind running) away.
Johan remained on deck and I hid in my cabin for a bit. He kept walking by the open window and smiling at me. Danielle was my bodyguard.
I ventured out on deck again wanting to get more air than our cabin provided and reclaim my reading spot, knowing Danielle would be along promptly. Johan passed by and asked if he could take my picture. With a big smile and a firm "no" he headed on his way and left me to my book.
Later that night I was out on the back deck alone again - dumb Yvette. I'd finished packing and left Danielle in our cozy snug little cabin to figure out her own packing thing. Most people went to sleep when the boat started moving and we were going, but it wasn't choppy so sitting on the deck in the gloriously fresh salt air seemed like a good idea. The crew knew I was there but left me alone - Johan just waved in passing, the captain asked if I was having a good night, Luis said to sleep well. And then overly friendly Carlos the engineer came by. He paused to say a few words and then continued on. But on his way back he stopped and asked if I wanted to climb to the top of the ship (generally off limits) and watch the stars with him. Holy f-in' a! Seriously? Amidst sparks of giggles (so glad my face wasn't visible most likely due to dim lighting), I strongly declined and he carried on his way. And, I'd like to add, there were no stars out with all the cloud cover that night. I sat out on the back deck for 45ish mins and not a single star was to be seen that entire time. Star watching? Pshaw snort giggle etc. Yes, I gave in to being 12 and laughed my ass off.
The next morning, still biting back laughter at the thought of the twilight zone Luis sat with Danielle and I as we were waiting to get off the ship. Carlos the bartender was around. Luis tells me in English to begin with but ending in Spanish... English part "you should learn Spanish"; Spanish part "because then he'll [Carlos] carry you away forever". I choked laughing as Carlos turned bright red. Luis never figured out I understood Spanish. I'd translated for Carlos a handful of times and had a full conversation with him about how I learned Spanish and about his obsession with football. Oh Luis, to think you never knew how many of your entirely inappropriate comments I understood. That one was just the icing on the cake!
Follow this up by our trip to the airport where upon getting all checked in by Luis and Johan, Luis goes around shaking hands and gives me a hug. Well this apparently caused Johan to grow some cajones really quickly because next thing I know he goes in for a hug (or so I thought) and plants a kiss on me. Shock. Shock I tell you. Just plain old shock. He hugged everyone else and all I could get through my head was "seriously? wow, guess he found his guts again..." along with more laughter.
Oh yes, sailors really do need to get off the boat more. Like seriously.
So there's my sociology experiment that says even when you can't communicate very well with people they still can confound you. And yes, I understood their words - I just was confounded by the surreal experience of being in the gorgeous galapagos with the random goings on of that 24 hrs. I was never creeped out; no one crossed lines; it was just beyond hysterical to me at the time and even to this day. I knew all I had to do was put on my swimsuit and I'd be safe from all advances.
Ahhh... now those are some memories of speaking Spanish in Ecuador I'll never forget. The brilliance of my tour with Hans, and the ridiculousness of Carlos, Carlos, Johan and Luis in the Galapagos. Thanks Ecuador. And thank you Senor for teaching me Spanish for 5 years so that at one point I was fluent - because it left enough Spanish in me to this day to know when I'm being randomly hit on - or to understand the history of a province... in SPANISH!
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