For those of you who don’t know, I’m in the (slow) process of learning Spanish. N’s mum’s side of the family are all originally from Spain and are fluent in Spanish, so why shouldn’t I? Not to mention the fact that I soak up languages like a sponge… I guess having a background in Latin helps!
I’m nowhere near fluent but I can understand for the most part what people are saying. Normally, if I know the vocab I can string together a sentence. It might not be correct, but it’s understandable. I can tell you so many things about bunnies (conehitas) that it’s not even funny.
Other than the random moment here or there I’ve never really gotten the chance to put my minor knowledge of Español to use.
Let me preface this by saying we’re in the middle of some freak heatwave. After weeks of a bum summer with rain and cold for whatever reason over the last two days the temperature has shot up into the 90’s. Now that’s my kind of summer, so I’m not complaining about the heat. What I AM complaining about is the fact that because it’s hot, London roads shut. down. Remember me complaining when it snowed and I had a hard time getting anywhere? Yeah. Same thing today. A journey that should take me 45 minutes actually took me 2 and a half and resulted in lots of walking. Nevermind.
After giving up on the bus due to crap traffic in every direction I walked a mile backwards to the nearest tube station. I wasn’t thrilled. Mmm…. underground tunnels with no air conditioning during peak rush hour squished in with thousands of other sweaty people?
So I finally made it on the Northern Line… the line home. Squished in next to me were a Spanish family… a woman with her 10 kids (okay, it was maybe three but with the way they were behaving it was more like 10) and her husband. One little boy kept putting their travel guide in his mouth and so the mum was shouting at him (in Español) to take the book out of his mouth.
This was all straight into my ear. I was less than thrilled. I might have sighed loudly and rolled my eyes. Well… not might because then the woman started saying something to her kids that I couldn’t catch and started indicating towards me and in English said “very grumpy.”
Whilst I didn’t know what else she said about me, it didn’t matter. I took the time to exercise my limited Spanish.
me (to the little boy who wanted to eat his book): Hola! (Hello)
He stared up at me, wide eyed. I glanced at the mother. She looked a bit suspicious but not overly worried.
me (to the boy): Donde esta tu libro? En tu boca? (Where is your book? In your mouth?)
little boy (wide eyed): Si. (yes)
me: Si? No bueno… (Yes? Not good.)
At this point, you could tell the mum was, shall we say, shitting bricks. Her husband was hiding his mouth behind his hand but I could tell he was trying not to laugh at his wife who just had this look of sheer shock/terror on her face. Whatever she said about me must have been that bad… and you could tell that she just knew I understood what she’d said. The funny bit is–I have no idea what she actually said about me!
They got off at the next stop.
And before you have to ask, yes, I did tell them “adios”.
X (or besos!)