Learning a new language can be intimidating for some, but others, like me, look at it like an ongoing party, beating a piñada continuously and joyfully, peering through the blindfold to see what kind of candy (read vocabulary) and other goodies (read grammar) might tumble out of the colourful beast.
A few years back, I started spending a good deal of time in an amazing place, Tenerife, the biggest of the Canary Islands. It’s well known to most Europeans and English folks but less known to North Americans. According to a local bank teller here (who I chatted with in English), Tenerife has a motley collection of 140 nationalities plus. The Canary Islands are part of Spain but make no mistake: they are a “communidad autonoma” (autonomous community)! As far as I can tell at this point it means that there is a “peninsula” (Spain) and the people from the peninsula invade the islands every August for one month and that the people living on the peninsula speak a language they think is perfect Spanish, especially folks from and around Madrid. However, it sounds really hilarious to Canarios.
I have been to many areas across the “peninsula” over the years. I had not learned any Spanish at all, except “Besame Mucho” from my mom’s Julio Iglesias vinyl collection. That phrase got me into some strange adventures, so I have stopped using it for the time being. The moment I arrived on Tenerife and realized that I did not need to pronounce the “s” like a snake, I felt a renewed sparkle of enthusiasm in learning the language. For me: Canarian Spanish is awesome! Especially, since the Canarios take pity on me and speak just a little slower, unlike the machine-gunning native speakers of Madrid.
When I am there, I spend my time in an utterly non-touristic mountain village and there is not one neighbour around who speaks English. And why should they?! They are super friendly and have talked to me from the very beginning. I gave back as good as I could, con corazon (with heart) but no mucho (not much) else that could be considered a legitimate part of the actual Spanish idiom. So, our initial lively conversations often ended up in bemused silences when I had finished a particular wild linguistic ride with “va bene” thinking a little sprinkling of Italian goes a long way in any language. Yes, I admit, I may have a more idiosyncratic approach to languages than other people.
Since those early beginnings, coming up to 6 years now, I have used various methods to cultivate my Spanish and it’s moving into some direction I am happy with. One thing that kept me on the right path is taking ongoing classes in a language school in Adeje, a small town 20km from where I spend my time. Well, it is close in a North American context but on this little island it is far enough from Adeje for that “the much more cosmopolitan” crowd to make fun of life amongst local yokels.
The vivacious owner of the school, S., is a force of nature. She is utterly passionate about the Spanish language. She believes Spanish grammar to be the logical foundation of the universe despite me proving on a regular basis that logic is in the eye of the beholder. And in my particular eye the conjugations of the unending masses of irregular Spanish verbs take on the logic of a painting done under the influence of a psychedelic drug.
My teacher, Adela, has the patience of a saint and continues to forgive my beating the aforementioned “piñada” with unabated enthusiasm. She does manage to instill some actual Spanish in my head along the way. Yes! I am happy to report my Spanish is actually improving despite myself.
There is a certain bias to my learning now, as I am dealing with contractors a lot. So, I am getting a lot more fluent in language nuggets like ‘el sistema de riega rompio otra vez’ (the irrigation system broke again) and ‘Hombre, no hay luz en todo la casa, ayuda’ (Man, the entire house has no electricity, help!). You see where I am going with this.
It’s not that I don’t want to learn how to read Don Quixote in the original, it’s just that I am probably gonna end up talking more easily with Sancho Panza, his fun squire riding along on the donkey. Sancho and I are going understand each other, I just know it: “Chico, quieres tomar unas cañas?” (cervezas to the rest of the world!)
So, as I continue my linguistic journey through the sun-soaked streets of backwater villages of Tenerife, I’m slowly but surely transforming into a Spanish-speaking butterfly. Well, maybe more of a moth – one that’s constantly drawn to the bright lights of proper grammar but keeps bumping into the lampshade of colloquialisms and “Brittism’s” as my teachers call them.
Language learning is a rollercoaster ride of hilarious misunderstandings, accidental innuendos, and the occasional moment of brilliance when you string together a sentence that actually makes sense. And let’s be honest, even if I never master the subjunctive or conquer the dreaded ser vs. estar battle, I’ll always have my secret weapon: a big grin and a willingness to make a fool of myself in the name of communication.
So, here’s to many more years of linguistic adventures, where I’ll butcher conjugations with gusto and mangle idioms with glee, until one day, I come full circle and can confidently deploy my trusty phrase “Bésame Mucho” – because nothing says “I’m trying” quite like accidentally propositioning everyone I meet!
¡Hasta la vista, baby! (Wait, wrong movie, wrong accent, but you get the idea!)