Hable

Sometimes I think having a language barrier is the most frustrating experience on the planet. This afternoon Laura, who speaks very limited English, discovered that there’s a bullfight in the Plaza del Toro on Sunday, so she asked me if I’d like to go. Obviously, I do. But this meant that I would need to go to the train station and change the day that I leave for Barcelona to Tuesday since I was originally booked to leave on Sunday, and the train is already full for Monday. Clutching a slip of paper that read “Yo quiero cambiar la fecha de mi boleto de viaje,” in case I got nervous when faced with the impatient, surly ticket agent and blanked on all Spanish, which is exactly what happened, I wandered over to the train station, waited in line for forty minutes, and successfully changed my departure to Tuesday.

That was supposed to be the most difficult, frustrating part. Not so. Back at Laura’s apartment I realized that I needed to contact my hostel in Barcelona, cancel my stay for Sunday and Monday nights, and re-book nights for after I arrive on Tuesday. I knew that this would be really hard to do over the phone because I suck at Spanish and will inevitably be asked all sorts of questions and not understand half the information I’m given, so I asked Laura to cancel the bookings and make the re-bookings for me. Speaking slowly, I pointed at the dates that I needed to cancel and said, “Cancel.” Then I pointed at the dates that I needed to book and said, “I need.” She looked at me, smiled sweetly and said, “Yes, yes. I can.” She picked up the phone, called the hostel, spoke a bunch of Spanish, hung up the phone, and then we had the following conversation:

LAURA: I no do can.
MARY: What? You mean you couldn’t do it?
LAURA: No, I no do can.
MARY: Were you able to cancel the days?
LAURA: Yes.
MARY: (pointing at the dates) Canceled?
LAURA: Yes … I no do can.
MARY: I don’t understand. No comprendo.
LAURA: You need … make days.
MARY: I need to cancel it?
LAURA: I no can telephone.
MARY: Wait, so is it canceled or not? (pointing) Days? Canceled?
LAURA: Yes. You need cancel.
MARY: Did you cancel the days?
LAURA: I no can telephone.

It went on like this for about ten minutes. I wanted to peel off my skin and stab at my brain with scissors until I fell into a coma and woke up in a land where no one ever has to speak to anyone because we can all just intrinsically know what everyone needs at all times.

But I’m in Spain and it’s rude to stab at your brain with scissors in someone else’s house, so instead I communicated my frustration in a universal manner by sighing and rubbing the side of my face with my hands. Laura understood this and must’ve realized that I was about three seconds away from flying out the window, so she picked up her laptop and used a translation website to write a message to me in English explaining that I need to cancel my booking and make a new one online because it’s not possible to do so over the phone.

Traveling is really fun and I love all the things I get to see and all the people I get to meet, but man, sometimes there are moments of frustration that you would never experience in your own country and they stretch your patience even further than you ever thought it’d go and make you never want to leave your comfortable little American nest ever again. But then you remember that you’re going to a bullfight on Sunday and tonight you get to watch Spaniards carry a giant crucifixion around town, bathed in a sea of candlelight and music and suddenly communication seems piddly. Who cares about grammar when you’ve got fiestas to attend?