As a language nerd, I have had a pretty limitless amount of things to observe and think about over the past few months. I watched my own progress with Spanish with a weird amount of consciousness, tracking the plateaus and leaps with interest. I often find myself in excited conversations with people over silly turns of phrase within Spanish or English. Over the past month, I've gotten to make a new kind of comparison - Spanish with Spanish.
I've mentioned briefly before that there isn't a whole lot of love lost between Nicaraguans and Costa Ricans. I experienced this in a new way, though, once I started making friends in Granada and began hearing over and over that I spoke like a Tica (Costa Rican.) My friends would mimic what I had said, laying on a thick Tico accent the way people might put on a Boston one, laughing the whole time. I pronounced my "s" to much. I was mushmouthed the way Ticos were. I used the formal form far too often. And God help me if I attempted to use every Tico's favorite, pura vida. Unacceptable. So, I started to try and adapt. A couple examples of things I picked up:
cool as in chill
Nicaragua: tuani
Costa Rica: tuaniS
cool as in awesome
Nicaragua: diacachimba, salvaje, bestial
Costa Rica: chiva, pura vida, tuanis
cool as in a cool person, or as in "he's good people"
Nicaragua: buena onda
Costa Rica: pura vida, buena gente
something that reminded me of New Orleans, used for checking to make sure someone is paying attention while you're talking in Nicaragua: oiste? (i.e. you heard me?)
getting someone's attention
Nicaragua: a quick whistle (ooooOOOO)
Costa Rica: either a nonsense syllable or, if walking up to a home and announcing your presence, an oopeh
girls
Nicaragua: chavalas, chicas
Costa Rica: guilas, muchachas
people with light skin / hair / eyes (usually foreigners, but not always)
Nicaragua: chela, chele
Costa Rica: macha
Showing posts with label speaking spanish. Show all posts
Showing posts with label speaking spanish. Show all posts
Tuesday, June 22, 2010
Monday, February 15, 2010
Inside/Outside
Today is my four-month anniversary in Costa Rica. Happy monthiversary to me! It´s strange to think that I´ve been here that long - the usual rush and drag of time applies.
Often, people ask me how I learned my Spanish. The answer is sort of drawn out: I took classes in high school and college, and studied abroad in Perú. I always hesitate to add the last bit, due to some serious neglect of opportunity there that I think I´ve mentioned here before. No doubt, I spoke more Spanish in Perú than I do in the States, but given the amount of time I spent there, the boost my Spanish got from the experience is laughable. Similar things could be said about my interaction with real live Peruvians.
I´ve known for years that I wanted to reverse that model the next time I traveled, and planned accordingly for Costa Rica. It´s paid off more than I could have imagined. My Spanish has evolved and is evolving in ways that I am truly proud of. The other day, discussing Spanish with a new acquaintance who is attempting to learn the language, I compared the difference between my Spanish when I arrived and my Spanish now to the difference between cheap boxed white wine and a bottle of Shiraz. (Costa Rica doesn´t produce any wine to speak of - can you tell I miss it?)
More than that, however, I believe the most valuable part of this focusing on the language and the people has come in relationships. Returning to San Isidro the other day, I climbed onto the bus for La Ribera tired and grumpy because the bus was unusually crowded. Standing in the aisle and starting to feel sweat trickle down my back, I felt a tug on my skirt. Luz, my host mom, smiled up at me. From beside me, two of my host sisters said "Caroliiiiiina!" and one popped up from her seat to give me a hug. Space was immediately cleared for me, stacking the youngest daughter on top of the older one. And I burst into a smile. What a difference being welcomed, being named, can mean.
As you all know, I am taking a course a few hours from my home here that requires me to spend three nights a week in Heredia. The first weekend I stayed in a hotel a few blocks from the school and spent my nights wallowing in CNN in English. Important, refreshing, but ultimately lonely. This weekend I was lucky enough to stay with Memo´s sister Ana, who studies there. True to Costa Rican generosity, she welcomed me into her busy life, housed me, fed me, talked my ear off, and celebrated Valentine´s Day with me by buying me an ice cream cone and openly sharing her views on love and machismo. Instead of carrying a styrofoam to-go plate to my hotel room and watching news all night, I snacked on papaya and papusas and listened to the latest work gossip from one of her two jobs. Once again, I was allowed inside.
Walking with my classmates at the TESL institute as we go to lunch has really put this into sharp contrast for me. With them, I am always "outside." We travel in a group, speak English, and generally have a bubble of space left for us as we move from place to place. There is nothing inherently wrong with this - one cannot learn the language for each place he or she wants to visit, nor is there something wrong with traveling with others. But I am more thankful than ever for the moments of everyday Costa Rican life that my choices here have afforded me.
(Happy Valentine´s Day everyone. Hope you let people you love know it!)
Often, people ask me how I learned my Spanish. The answer is sort of drawn out: I took classes in high school and college, and studied abroad in Perú. I always hesitate to add the last bit, due to some serious neglect of opportunity there that I think I´ve mentioned here before. No doubt, I spoke more Spanish in Perú than I do in the States, but given the amount of time I spent there, the boost my Spanish got from the experience is laughable. Similar things could be said about my interaction with real live Peruvians.
I´ve known for years that I wanted to reverse that model the next time I traveled, and planned accordingly for Costa Rica. It´s paid off more than I could have imagined. My Spanish has evolved and is evolving in ways that I am truly proud of. The other day, discussing Spanish with a new acquaintance who is attempting to learn the language, I compared the difference between my Spanish when I arrived and my Spanish now to the difference between cheap boxed white wine and a bottle of Shiraz. (Costa Rica doesn´t produce any wine to speak of - can you tell I miss it?)
More than that, however, I believe the most valuable part of this focusing on the language and the people has come in relationships. Returning to San Isidro the other day, I climbed onto the bus for La Ribera tired and grumpy because the bus was unusually crowded. Standing in the aisle and starting to feel sweat trickle down my back, I felt a tug on my skirt. Luz, my host mom, smiled up at me. From beside me, two of my host sisters said "Caroliiiiiina!" and one popped up from her seat to give me a hug. Space was immediately cleared for me, stacking the youngest daughter on top of the older one. And I burst into a smile. What a difference being welcomed, being named, can mean.
As you all know, I am taking a course a few hours from my home here that requires me to spend three nights a week in Heredia. The first weekend I stayed in a hotel a few blocks from the school and spent my nights wallowing in CNN in English. Important, refreshing, but ultimately lonely. This weekend I was lucky enough to stay with Memo´s sister Ana, who studies there. True to Costa Rican generosity, she welcomed me into her busy life, housed me, fed me, talked my ear off, and celebrated Valentine´s Day with me by buying me an ice cream cone and openly sharing her views on love and machismo. Instead of carrying a styrofoam to-go plate to my hotel room and watching news all night, I snacked on papaya and papusas and listened to the latest work gossip from one of her two jobs. Once again, I was allowed inside.
Walking with my classmates at the TESL institute as we go to lunch has really put this into sharp contrast for me. With them, I am always "outside." We travel in a group, speak English, and generally have a bubble of space left for us as we move from place to place. There is nothing inherently wrong with this - one cannot learn the language for each place he or she wants to visit, nor is there something wrong with traveling with others. But I am more thankful than ever for the moments of everyday Costa Rican life that my choices here have afforded me.
(Happy Valentine´s Day everyone. Hope you let people you love know it!)
Tuesday, November 3, 2009
¿Que? ¿Como? ¿Otra vez?
Let me just put this out there: when I studied abroad in Perú, I wimped out big time on the Spanish. I kept mostly to my fellow American students, and went just about everywhere with my roommate Hannah, who was my saving grace in a lot of ways. It´s much easier to wait for a bus in a crowd of foreign strangers or attempt a trip to a new city or even go to lunch in a restaurant when you have a partner in crime to be confused and ridiculous with.
Though I loved spending time with the students in my program, I know that I missed out on a lot of language by doing so. That idea has been seriously enforced here in Costa Rica. The family I am living with speaks very little English. With me, they speak none. I live every day here in Spanish from the moment I wake up until the last time Daniela tells me goodnight.
The Ugly:
I often feel like an idiot here. It´s not just that I don´t understand, which happens frequently (Thankfully, the Chinchillas are a patient bunch, minus Daniela, who starts talking to me in exaggerated, slowwwww Spanish if I don´t understand after the first two times!) It´s also that my range of conversation is much smaller in Spanish than in English. Having gotten myself mired in jumbles of conversation that have no out but "Ah, olvidalo." (Ah, forget it.) when I attempted more sophisticated topics or opinions, I often find myself stuck with routine, boring responses. How´s the food? It´s great. Hows the fruit juice? Oh, it´s great. Do you like mangos? Yes, they´re.... great.
The Bad
As I mentioned, the Chinchilla family is extremely patient with me as I try to learn new words. There are thousands to learn, and I am anxious to do so. But. There´s a certain point where I start feeling like Helen Keller in the days after the Water Incident. "What´s this?" "What do you call this?" "That thing there, what is it?" And on, and on, and on. This isn´t exactly thrilling conversation either, though it does help me out tremendously.
The Good
Even after a long stressful day of two word answers and monotonous questions, there are always still conversations that keep my hopes up. Like being able to ask Memo about the rights that gay couples have in Costa Rica, or simply walking into the shoe store and having an easy conversation with the salesman about the size and height of rubber boots I need. Though I tend to focus on the more frustrating conversations I have, I´m speaking Spanish every time I open my mouth! The truth is that that is a success. I´m sure it will get easier as time goes on. (Fingers crossed!)
Though I loved spending time with the students in my program, I know that I missed out on a lot of language by doing so. That idea has been seriously enforced here in Costa Rica. The family I am living with speaks very little English. With me, they speak none. I live every day here in Spanish from the moment I wake up until the last time Daniela tells me goodnight.
The Ugly:
I often feel like an idiot here. It´s not just that I don´t understand, which happens frequently (Thankfully, the Chinchillas are a patient bunch, minus Daniela, who starts talking to me in exaggerated, slowwwww Spanish if I don´t understand after the first two times!) It´s also that my range of conversation is much smaller in Spanish than in English. Having gotten myself mired in jumbles of conversation that have no out but "Ah, olvidalo." (Ah, forget it.) when I attempted more sophisticated topics or opinions, I often find myself stuck with routine, boring responses. How´s the food? It´s great. Hows the fruit juice? Oh, it´s great. Do you like mangos? Yes, they´re.... great.
The Bad
As I mentioned, the Chinchilla family is extremely patient with me as I try to learn new words. There are thousands to learn, and I am anxious to do so. But. There´s a certain point where I start feeling like Helen Keller in the days after the Water Incident. "What´s this?" "What do you call this?" "That thing there, what is it?" And on, and on, and on. This isn´t exactly thrilling conversation either, though it does help me out tremendously.
The Good
Even after a long stressful day of two word answers and monotonous questions, there are always still conversations that keep my hopes up. Like being able to ask Memo about the rights that gay couples have in Costa Rica, or simply walking into the shoe store and having an easy conversation with the salesman about the size and height of rubber boots I need. Though I tend to focus on the more frustrating conversations I have, I´m speaking Spanish every time I open my mouth! The truth is that that is a success. I´m sure it will get easier as time goes on. (Fingers crossed!)
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
