Well the parents and younger sister have safely arrived in Málaga. In an attempt to get those internal clocks ticking to the tiempo de España, I walked them, fed them and put them to bed. Then, I walked them, fed them and put them to bed. Now remind me, por favor. Why exactly hasn't this siesta trend caught on in the States?
Just in case you were wondering, if you are traveling to Spain without taking a single, formal class and being essentially tone-deaf to other languages... but have read DEMASIADO guidebooks and "Learn Spanish in 3 Seconds Books"and think that you are fluent. Well, you aren't. If you've read 'em backwards, forwards and upside-down, you still are not ready for spoken Spanish. And if you've only tried to cram while in the Boston and Madrid airports... hmmmm..
Some gems thus far:
Mi Padre: "Well I really like to ask where something is... 'donde...donde... donde.' Like 'Donde estacion?"
Yo: "Where station? Yeah, you're picking it right up."
Mi Padre: "Okay, how do I ask where the bathrooms are? Hombre room?"
Yo: (very, very, VERY despacio) "Donde..... están...... los....... aseos? Donde están los aseos?"
Mi Padre: "No, that's too complicated."
In this sequence, I ultimately just asked the waiter myself. It hurt too much to hear it.
My mom is really understanding the key to being an extranjera (foreigner). She lets me do the talking.
If only she knew what I was REALLY saying...
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