Gobbledigook

“DONDE YADAYADAYADA BLAHBLAH YADA BLAH,” the man shouted at me.

Well, that wasn’t exactly what he said, but it’s what it sounded like to me. It was just a bunch of “gobbledigook.”

He was shouting in Spanish, and the only word I caught was “donde.” I knew he was asking “where” something was. I only knew that because in two years of high school Spanish, about all I learned was how to ask where the bathroom is. I also learned how to disparage your mother in Spanish, though that was not officially taught in class.

Now, this man wasn’t angry at me. I could tell that by the smile on his face. A smile is a universal gesture of friendliness, unless you are talking to a gorilla or a “Goodfella.” That’s something I learned from my TV. A gorilla who is smiling and showing his teeth is being aggressive; so is a Goodfella.

My knowledge is amazing sometimes.

Now, when this man shouted at me, all I could do was smile and shrug. He turned to his companion, spoke in a normal tone of voice, then turned back to me and repeated his question. He was still shouting, louder it seemed, but now he slowed down and enunciated every syllable:

“DON. DE. YA. DA. YA. DA. YA. DA. BLAH. BLAH. YA. DA. BLAH?”

Now, he was waving his arms around which, by the way, is another gesture you don’t want to do with a gorilla.

I was helpless. I said, “Sir, I can hear you. I’m not deaf. I just don’t understand you.” I found that I was speaking loudly, too.

Why is it that when we are talking to someone who doesn’t understand our language we speak louder? Is that supposed to make them be able to translate?

He, of course, didn’t understand me.

In my head, “that rhetoric” began. You know what I’m talking about. I was thinking, “If people come to live in this country, they need to learn the language!” Now, I’m sympathetic to the plight of people who come to this country to build a better life (although I wish it could be done legally). I’m also a firm believer that if you move to another country it is your responsibility to learn to communicate with the natives. I was almost getting indignant, despite the fact that I wanted to help this man.

About that time, a young boy entered the scene. He spoke Spanish, too, and was able to answer the man’s questions. I listened with fascination to their conversation, not understanding a single word. The man and his companion smiled and nodded and went on their merry way. Then, the young boy turned to me and explained that this couple was from South America and they were tourists in our country.

Awww maaaan. I felt really bad about the things I had been thinking! Because I suddenly pictured what would happen if the tables were turned.

I know that if I were spending my hard earned dollars on a vacation in another country, I would expect people to speak English to me. Is that why other countries sometimes think we Americans are “arrogant?”

I know that I would act very much like the man I mention, if I visited a foreign country. I’d be shouting, very slowly, in English. I’d be smiling and waving my arms trying to get anyone to understand me.

Unless I was talking to a gorilla— or a Goodfella.

Other posts you might enjoy:

1. Country Fried
2. Mind Your Manners, And The Rest Is Soon To Follow
3. An Issue Of Respect At Wolfgang Puck’s Five Sixty Restaurant
4. The Dog Ate It
5. An Apology to That Driver

Tagged as: bilingual, humor, manners