Language Barriers

Languages have never been my strong suit. After having spent some of my childhood in the Middle East, my Arabic was far better than my English when I was young. Almost 20 years later, it's  enough to make my relatives laugh.

On a bus ride out of town, the bus filled up very quickly
and I found myself sitting up front with Carlos the bus
drive for two hours. He was very friendly. It took me a
while to realize that he is way too friendly.

My Arabic professor once looked at me apologetically and said, "I understand what you're saying, but where did you learn to speak like that? It sounds like four different dialects--we're going to have to start over." And suddenly I was learning how to say things like "I want" all over again.

My French is not much better. It's enough to get a furrowed brow and a stereotypically Parisian pretentious, "so you speak English, right?"

After about a week of catching myself saying "oui" instead of "si," my Spanish is finally coming along. But not without at least a few hiccups first.

Like the other day when I went to a nearby shop in need of new clothes. (Turns out my sister was justified when she threw up her arms and said "are you even a woman?" when she had to convince me to take a second suitcase for my nine month stay in Ecuador.)

Generally speaking, I am fine with conducting day to day tasks in Spanish. Generally speaking, I know how to conjugate verbs.

But when I stepped out of the change room, in need of another size, and turned to a woman who looked like she might have worked there and said "trabajo aqui?" (instead of "trabajas acqui?") she and my friend snickered.

"What?"

 "You just asked her if you work here."

Or like the time I stepped into the kitchen to grab a glass of water while the cook was making lunch and I told her it smells delicious and intended to say "yo tengo hambre" ("I'm  hungry" or literally "I have hunger.")  Instead, I said "yo tengo hombre": I have man.

Good thing I'm starting formal Spanish lessons tomorrow...

Bargains and Bluffs

At Otovalo

Confession: when it comes to traveling, I am cheap--notoriously so.

Like the time I carried my bags down three flights of stairs and bluffed leaving the hotel to save 75 rs on the room.

Or the time I spent ten minutes bargaining fifteen dollars off of a vintage coat when the shop owner laughed and asked, "Where the hell did you learn to bargain like that?"

Or last week when I bargained 30% off of a silver bracelet and it seemed that the owner couldn't decide whether he was more impressed or annoyed.

When my family tease me and laugh, I don't mind because every handful of dollars is another city seen. Bargaining is like a game and it's a fine line between getting a good deal and not insulting or ripping someone off. A foreigner is a gold mine, a perfect target, and it is just as important not to be taken as it is to not take someone else.

I've learned that so long as you laugh, smile, and say please, you can offer pretty much any price.

For instance, on a new pair of alpaca socks."Cuanto questa?"

"Cinco dollares."

"Por favor, dos?"

At Otovalo

She laughs and won't go lower than three dollars. I say thank you and begin to walk away. She calls me back and we settle on two pairs for five dollars. My friend, who I was bargaining for, paid her and the kind lady wished us a nice day.


The tricky part of bargaining is that no one actually names the price they are looking for or the price they are willing to pay. Once in a Cairo marketplace, while I was souvenir shopping for friends, I was asked for at least five times as much for a paper weight than I actually paid. And on good days the merchant is probably successful selling souvenirs for that much to tourists. My first offer is always a good deal less than what I am actually willing to settle on because the whole encounter plays out like a game of chess, and you have to be weary from your very first play.