Tranquila
7 January 23
I laughingly tell people I know just enough Spanish to get myself into trouble. I took two years, four semesters of Spanish language in high school. I aced my first semester. Semester 2, I earned a B. Semester 3, a C. Semester 4, a D. I decided to quit while I was ahead-ish. I know the alphabet and how to count. I can exchange a handful of pleasantries. I can conjugate the few verbs I do know. I’ve used what little I learned maybe a couple of dozen times over the decades. Whenever traveling through Spanish-speaking countries, I brush a few cobwebs out of that minimally used corner of my brain, and I always manage to pick up another word or two. I’ve graduated from holding my index finger and thumb a fraction of an inch apart and confessing “solo un poquito Español” (only a little bit of Spanish) to a full sentence, “Habla despacia para mi, por favor, porque mi Español es muy mal” (speak slowly for me, please, because my Spanish is very bad).
My first week here in Colombia, I was quite proud of myself for making an entire grocery run without using my Google Translate app once. Selected my groceries, read labels, exchanged pleasantries with the check-out clerk, all in Spanish. Even laughed with her when I didn’t understand her asking me if I needed a bag. So she taught me the word “bolso” (bag), but I never broke from Spanish while telling her I didn’t understand, please repeat, and how do you say “bag”? You have no idea the boost to my confidence after months of traveling through countries where the only words I know are “hello” and “thank you.”
But then, a few days later, I needed to go to the pharmacy to get some eyedrops for an eye infection. I knew “ojos” (eyes). I learned “gotas” (drops) just for this mission. So proud of myself, I presented myself to the pharmacist and confidently requested, “Tienes gotas de ojos?” (do you have eyedrops?)
To which the pharmacist asked me a question, then patiently waited for my answer.
Oops.
Told you, just enough Spanish to get myself in trouble. I know how to ask for eyedrops. I have no idea what you just asked me or how to respond.
I did eventually figure out she was asking me what kind of eyedrops I needed or what I needed them for or something along those lines because, duh, there are eyedrops for more than one malady. I very brokenly explained I had an eye infection. She brought me some eyedrops, and I made a big show of examining the box as though I had any idea what I was reading before nodding and paying for the drops. Once I got to the privacy of my apartment, I used my Google Translate app to confirm these were the drops I needed. Frequently a lifesaver, good ol’ Google.
I find myself in similar situations with just about every cab driver, sales clerk, restaurant server, and the door people at my apartment building. I can exchange just enough pleasantries to sound like I know Spanish. Then their very next sentence, and I am left staring at them dumbly. Many people, watching my confusion blossom across my face, will obligingly switch to English for me. I kind of wish they wouldn’t. I want to learn. I am getting better at using a combination of the few words I do understand and context clues to gradually add to my limited exchanges.
I was standing outside of my building waiting on an Uber the other day when a pleasant man walked past me, smiled, and rattled off some rapid-fire Spanish. He then stood, still smiling, waiting expectantly for my answer. I stared at him blankly until he finally laughed, gestured at the sky, the first clear, sunny sky in a few days, and simplified for me, “Sol, bonita.” (sun, beautiful) Ah! This I know! “Si, que bonita, el sol!” (Yes, how beautiful, the sun!)
So, you see, I can barely even talk about the weather. As I mentioned, I know just enough Spanish to get myself in trouble.
This time around I need to do more than clear out a few cobwebs. This time around I have plans to spend a couple of months in Colombia followed by at least two months, possibly more, in Peru. After Peru, maybe Ecuador. So I need to do better than “I’m sorry my Spanish sucks.” I start Spanish lessons next week. After months of communicating poorly in every country I visit, I intend to build on my knowledge base and finally be able to carry on conversations in native tongues. This less-than-entitled American girl is going to be a citizen of the world if it kills her, folks!
“Tranquila” has got to be my favorite word in the Spanish language. I’ve visited several Latin-American countries, but it’s been a while, and I honestly can’t remember if other Spanish-speaking people use it the same way Colombians do. Colombians use it copiously, and I love it every time I hear it. My tendency to apologize for taking up space, my apologies for taking too long, stepping in front of someone, walking or standing in someone’s way, even my apologies for my rudimentary Spanish comprehension and requests for someone to speak slowly for me, these are all met with patient, smiling eyes and “tranquila.” Be peaceful.
It’s not at all the same as the throwaway “no problem” used in other parts of the world. It’s the opposite of a dismissive or even a forgiveness for some miniscule slight. It is the epitome of human kindness and compassion.
“I’m sorry I accidentally stepped in front of you or encroached on your space.”
“Be peaceful.”
“I’m sorry I don’t speak your language very well.”
“Be peaceful.”
A few days ago a porter from the airline delivered my lost bag to my apartment. He held the heavy pack up for me to step into. While trying to secure it onto my back, I fumbled the straps, causing a split-second delay, necessitating him to hold the bag up for me that split-second more. I hastily told him, “Lo siento” (I’m sorry).
The response? You guessed it. “Tranquila.” Be peaceful.
I want to integrate this into every wrinkle and facet of my existence. It may seem subtle to most, but to me, this response is everything. Not dismissively “don’t worry about it” or “forget about it.” Not forgiveness where forgiveness isn’t necessary.
Tranquila. Be peaceful. Be at ease. You are well. All is well. Tranquila.