When we first arrived in South America, Kristy, a natural talker and friendly gal, was immediately frustrated by her inability to communicate with strangers. Besides the cheerful “hola!” she delivered to anyone within 50 meters, she didn’t have a ton to work with in the Spanish department, and it drove her bonkers.
Since I studied a little Spanish in high school, she initially tried to use me as a mouthpiece, poking my arm and saying, “ask that guard why the bus isn’t here, ask the lady what kind of dog that is, ask him when the store opens”.
Kristy quickly realized that this made me cranky as my Spanish is only moderately better than hers and I’m significantly less outgoing. She admirably decided to take matters into her own hands from there on out.
At first this didn’t always go so well – she might memorize her opening sentence but when things unraveled default to saying ALL the Spanish words she knew, whether or not they were related to the subject at hand. But she progressed impressively quickly, and got really good at the basic phrases you need when you’re traveling.
Once she was on a roll, Kristy made it her personal mission to ask if potential hostels had hot showers since this was a big problem for us in Peru. At first she would ask about “aguas calientes”, but since this can mean hot springs, this often resulted in confusion. After a few tries, a kind hostel owner taught her “ducha”, the word for shower, and Kristy was eager to try that baby out.
A few days later we were at a hostel in Puno, and the 13 year old boy showing us the room asked us if we had any questions. THIS was Kristy’s moment.
“Si!” she exclaimed. She moved closer, raised her right hand above her head and pointed to herself, opening and closing her fingers in a way that was meant to represent a showerhead.
“Damas calientes?” she asked triumphantly. There was an awkward pause, and a look of amusement mixed with embarrassment passed over the boy’s face. Hot ladies. Kristy had just gestured at herself and said “hot ladies?”
“Duchas. DUCHAS,” I exclaimed, realizing that my wife had just asked a child if we were hot ladies or if hot ladies was a service his hostel provided.
“Uh, si, claro” he mumbled, and exited as quickly as possible.
“Duchas? What did I say?”
The showers were actually cold. They were always cold. But Kristy, our dear, outgoing ambassador, never stopped asking, and she never messed that phrase up again.
The Traveling Blues 