Tounge-Tied

I often like to imagine myself being a confident public speaker, cracking jokes left and right, the “life” of any given conversation. In reality though, I’m delusional. When it comes to talking to strangers in English, I usually become very self-conscious and sometimes stutter slightly. Now in Buenos Aires, 90% of my interactions with other human beings take place in Spanish. To say the least, communication can be frustrating.
 
The other day, for example, I found myself caught in torrential downpour without an umbrella and still about fifteen blocks from my home-stay. To make matters worse, I was carrying a bunch of books in my bag and knew it wouldn’t take long for all of them to become a soggy mess. I ran a kiosk and right as I opened my mouth to speak to the owner, I realized I had no idea how to say plastic bag in Spanish. I found myself mired by my own limited vocabulary, quickly becoming more frustrated as the calm porteño before me slowly raised his left eyebrow ever higher. Eventually, I got a few plastic bags and made it home, soaked but content, but this small moment of frustration is one of many here.
 
Though I find having conversations in Spanish here to be quite difficult, I am glad that porteños are so patient with me. When receiving directions after having asked for them, which I do basically every day without fail, they usually see the confused look on my face and repeat what they just said a little slower and in a more pronounced manner. However, these exchanges are usually ended by a phrase I’ve begun to loathe, ¿Entendés? (Do you understand?). I’ve mainly just started hating this because I don’t always understand, but I’m too stubborn to just be honest and say that I don’t know what they’re saying. However, I have found one thing that helps in conversations without fail.
 
In Buenos Aires, body language and hand gestures are extremely important aspects of local culture. This comes in handy when I don’t completely understand directions someone has given me out don’t know the meaning of a certain word. Whether fluid movements or jerking motions, gesturing can help you get a point across here. One of my favorite little motions that I’ve come across here involves coffee. I thought of it the second I read part of Botton’s text: “To condemn ourselves for these minute concerns is to ignore how rich in meaning details may be” (75). In this city, you can just walk into a café, make eye contact with a waiter, and use a simple one-handed motion to tell them what kind of coffee you want. It really is a small detail, I know, but it says so much about the laid-back, relaxed culture here and the fact that it’s beginning to grow on me.