What NOT to Say

It seems to me that a common theme in travel writing and blogging is the confusion and comedy that arise when learning a new language. This week I would like to demonstrate to you how one or two misplaced or mispronounced letters can result in sidesplitting laughter on the behalf of the native speaker.

Exhibit A:

For the Spanish, English vowels are one of the hardest parts of pronunciation. We were always taught that the vowels are a, e, i, o, and u, when in reality you should double that number because of long and short vowels... and don't forget the diphthongs. In Spanish, each letter makes one sound and only one sound, so everything is written phonetically which is why the difference between bow (as in the weapon of choice for archers) and bow (a show of respect popular in eastern countries) is often lost in a heteronymous nightmare. As a teacher I hear these little mistakes on a day to day basis. Being able to suppress my laughter can be a real task when a student talks about all the "fine bitches" in the south of Spain that they lay on in the Summer or the the areas of English they would like to "fuckus" on practicing. Being immature is so much funnier when you are supposed to be acting professional. Which reminds me, if anyone reading this works for the travel company 1-800-Beaches, please do us all a favor and hire a spokesperson with a Spanish accent.

Exhibit B: 

Next I would like to present my personal experience with public mortification. In Spanish, the word for chicken is pollo (POY-oh). Easy enough to pronounce, right? Well if you switch that last "o" for an "a" it means something entirely different. I will explain via a story.

I'm making my weekly shopping rounds, picking up wares from the different markets: vegetables at the green grocers, beer at the liquor store, tofu at the Chinese market. Everything is fine until it came time to visit the butcher. Because my Spanish is still pretty poor, I have to write my script ahead of time and rehearse it in my head like a little movie as I make my way to whatever I am supposed to do. Before I go to the grocer I have to practice the interaction mentally: "I'll have a half kilo of avocados, a quarter kilo of carrots and five apples." These little scripts usually include two or three appropriate responses from the other party and then my responses to their responses. It's a very short film. Perhaps four lines worth of dialogue. If someone should deviate from this script, I'm screwed. The entire interaction gets shot to hell. They could say something as simple as "Okay, half kilo of apples, right? And how are you today?" and I get that deer in the headlights look as I have to entirely rewrite the whole movie. I'ts not like I don't know the words. I do. Only, when I have expectations about the conversation that are proven wrong I forget every shred of Spanish. So, on my way from the Chinese market to the butcher I am practicing saying "a half kilo of chicken and a quarter kilo of chorizo, please." I repeat this over and over. Of course, when I finally get there and am asked what I want I declare with much gusto, in my best Spanish: "Un medio kilo de polla" and then judiciously, "y un quarto kilo de chorizo, por favor."

Translation: "A half kilo of penis and a quarter kilo of sausage, please."

You can imagine how much the burly, old Spanish butchers in their blood spattered aprons appreciated my request, and the courteous "please" at the end.

Exhibit C:

I was not personally present for this one, but I still have to tell the story so I am not the only idiot in this post. When we first arrived in Spain, Monica decided to take a Spanish class to brush up on her skills. As an assignment they were reading Little Red Riding Hood aloud to work on pronunciation. At one point in the story, the narrator explains that Little Red Riding Hood's only friends were the birds in the woods, and the word for bird in Spanish is pajaro. The poor woman reading this particular passage made the subtle mistake of switching the second "a" for an "e." It is truly amazing how one letter can change a fairy tale. When read as pajero, the story says that Little Red's only friends were a bunch of jerk-offs in the woods.

Conclusion:

I think the only thing I can say is that if you are going to learn a language, the first lesson should be on what not to say. Lesson 1: Dirty Words.