Spanglish and the Cable Service Man

... and after he sucked out my soul, he put this piece of bread on my face!

 :: Language is the blood of the soul into which thoughts run and out of which they grow :: 

- Oliver Wendell Holmes

Today I hired a Spanish tutor.  Spanglish classes are fun and all, but I need to be able to really take care of business.  

If not the first, I am probably close to being the first woman from the United States to work for a Mexican corporation based in Merida.  I drove myself from Texas to the Yucatan, taught myself how to ride several buses to get back and forth from the beach to Merida, as well as to Valladolid, pay my electric and gas bills, put gas in my car, and buy food.  With the assistance of one of my lovely colleges, I have a full propane tank that allows me to cook and take a hot shower.   With the help of countless other bilingual speakers, I’ve purchased a home and found a wonderful contractor.  

Today, with paid assistance through YES,  I was able to get a contract in place and an appointment for service with a local cable and internet provider.  However, I had a total meltdown when I went to pay for a years’ worth of those services.   The polite, yet blank faced Cablemás representative, who never slowed down once during our fifteen minute exchange, even when I said to him, ‘No, tiendo.  Repetir por favor,’ gave me the impression that he didn’t want to understand me.  The less he tried, the harder I tried to figure out what he was saying and find words to express my needs.  Necesario - Pagar  - Contracto – Para - Un año – Con - Tarjeta de crédito – Por favor.   

I finally reached the point of feeling overwhelmed.  I looked at my Cablemás respresentative and said in English, ‘I don’t understand a word you are saying to me.  Thank you.’  I don’t know why exactly, as I was in no way rude, I felt like the Ugly American Tourist.  Here I am in a wonderful country that has done nothing but embraced me, and I have yet to prepare myself for simple task.  Fortunately for both of us, as I turned to leave, a bilingual representative came to our aid.   I thanked them both with a handshake.  

I just hope I wasn’t awful enough to warrant a bedtime story to Señor Cablemás’ children.  

Sleep Tight Broads Abroad
 

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