July 29, 2015
Location: Madrid, Spain
Time: 9:45pm
It's still daylight. For that reason alone I love Spain.
I'm at a tapas bar called Tabernille somewhere in not-touristy madrid. I prefer to travel that way, because this is when I get to see the real city, the one that is unaffected by the interest of the outside world to devour its sights and way of life in two days.
Very quickly, I learn that this area is beyond the limit of English-knowers. This is a first for me. Even Berlin - where I was for the past 3 days - was quite English-friendly.
I tell the waiter, to show off, "mi espanol no es bueno."
- My Spanish is not good.
He nods and repeats, "no bueno."
"Si!" I say, preparing to speak in english.
I ask, "habla ingles?"
He nods, and says "no ingles."
Okay. This is new. And exciting. I must now order my food and drink for this dinner without speaking any english, something I'm not used to doing...well...ever.
I look at the menu, and at first glance it made no sense to my English and barely-hindi reading brain.
Eventually I find 'chirazo' (sausage) on the menu. My 7 years in California taught me that.
What kind of sausage you ask? I don't know and I don't care. I know something!
I order it. And it's perfect(-ish).
"La chorizo era muy bueno."
- The sausage was very good.
The translation is a hopeful guess.
He smiles, says something I don't understand since it is in Spanish, and walks away.
I love this. I've spent so much of my life in english speaking countries that I never We how peaceful it would be to live or visit a place where I don't understand everyone.
I can be sitting in a bar. Or the metro. Or the park. All the while I'm completely immune to the conversations around me.
I didn't even know I craved such quiet.
And in case you're wondering, I only wrote this story because I thought that "Found in Translation" is just too fun of a title to not write about.
This has been story #5 (of my 100 stories goal). In case you were counting.
Time to stop writing and start another adventure.
Adios. For the moment.