International Communications
Well, that was short-lived. Not that I’m not excited anymore – the flights are booked now, it’s actually happening, which is very cool – but it’s funny how slipping back into organisational mode can bring back the frazzle in no time.
Turns out everyone else in the world decided they wanted to be in Seville for Semana Santa (Holy Week), and they’ve already booked every reasonably priced bed in town. I’ve spent hours combing the InterWeb this afternoon, looking for somewhere to stay at a price that will mean I can actually eat the rest of the time I’m in Spain. No luck yet – but fingers crossed I’ll find something soon.
Deciding I needed to get creative, I figured the best bet might be to contact the hostels directly. I settled myself on the couch with my guide book and the phone, and just as I prepared to dial the first number I had a realisation.
I don’t speak Spanish.
Undaunted (well, slightly daunted but trying not to show it), I fished out my trusty phrasebook and marked several useful-looking pages between my fingers. I figured that at least if I made a decent attempt at Spanish, someone would take pity on me and respond in English.
It didn’t go very well. Here is a dramatised re-enactment:
Me: (in my chirpiest, friendliest voice) Hello! Do you speak English?
Spanish person: No.
Me: (slightly less chirpy). Okay! Room for Easter do you have?
Spanish person: Easter? I don’t understand.
Me: (abandoning any attempt at sentences) Semana Santa?
Spanish Person: Oh, Semana Santa. (Lengthy ramble in Spanish). How many persons?
Me: One person.
Spanish Person: (barrage of Spanish).
At this point I would have to sheepishly admit defeat and say I didn’t understand. One woman told me they had no beds, that was easy enough. Another guy took pity on me and told me to call back tomorrow (at least I think that’s what he said). Either way, this was a failed experiment.
I’m not sure how I’m going to go once I’m in Spain proper. I guess I’d been figuring I could get by with pointing at menus and calendars and smiling a lot. Maybe it would help if I was to just say everything in a REALLY LOUD VOICE, as I have seen other tourists do. I could be in some trouble here.
Turns out everyone else in the world decided they wanted to be in Seville for Semana Santa (Holy Week), and they’ve already booked every reasonably priced bed in town. I’ve spent hours combing the InterWeb this afternoon, looking for somewhere to stay at a price that will mean I can actually eat the rest of the time I’m in Spain. No luck yet – but fingers crossed I’ll find something soon.
Deciding I needed to get creative, I figured the best bet might be to contact the hostels directly. I settled myself on the couch with my guide book and the phone, and just as I prepared to dial the first number I had a realisation.
I don’t speak Spanish.
Undaunted (well, slightly daunted but trying not to show it), I fished out my trusty phrasebook and marked several useful-looking pages between my fingers. I figured that at least if I made a decent attempt at Spanish, someone would take pity on me and respond in English.
It didn’t go very well. Here is a dramatised re-enactment:
Me: (in my chirpiest, friendliest voice) Hello! Do you speak English?
Spanish person: No.
Me: (slightly less chirpy). Okay! Room for Easter do you have?
Spanish person: Easter? I don’t understand.
Me: (abandoning any attempt at sentences) Semana Santa?
Spanish Person: Oh, Semana Santa. (Lengthy ramble in Spanish). How many persons?
Me: One person.
Spanish Person: (barrage of Spanish).
At this point I would have to sheepishly admit defeat and say I didn’t understand. One woman told me they had no beds, that was easy enough. Another guy took pity on me and told me to call back tomorrow (at least I think that’s what he said). Either way, this was a failed experiment.
I’m not sure how I’m going to go once I’m in Spain proper. I guess I’d been figuring I could get by with pointing at menus and calendars and smiling a lot. Maybe it would help if I was to just say everything in a REALLY LOUD VOICE, as I have seen other tourists do. I could be in some trouble here.
posted by jLo at 1:28 PM
6 Comments:
They've just gotta get a grip on globalisation, jLo. It's not your fault they're still in the dark ages and don't speak English.
Really loud, really slow and really condescending works a treat. Don't be afraid to repeat yourself but louder, slower and more condescendingly.
How're the accomm. options in nearby towns? Sometimes it's worth staying a piddling 30 min train ride away from the action where there are less crowds and affordable beds. This is continental Europe, man! They may not speak the global language but they run a damn fine train service.
JLO - reluctant as i am to drag myself away from my important work, I have decided to complie a list of useful phrase to help you navigate your way thru Spain. You may or may not find them helpful. They may or many not lead to your deportation. Ahem:
No hablo Español - I don' t speak spanish
Me burro esta muerto - My donkey is dead
¿Donde puedo comprar un bigote falso para mi perro? - Where can I buy a large brown fake Moustache for my dog?
Hay un habitacion? - do you have a room?
Cuanto cuesta por noche? - how much for a night?
con banos? - with a bathroom?
Hay descuento? - is there a discount?
A mi llama se le ha caido una pata y querria comprar una rueda de repuesto, por favor - The leg has fallen off of my Llama and so I'd like to buy some sort of replacement wheel please.
Enjoy, Muchachos
donda este la servicio? - the only Spanish I needed in Mexico. (Where are the toilets?) Doesn't help you book a room though.
FYI Mark will be in Barcelona next week.
Jules, just don't forget the cardinal rule for Spain: Thou must buy shoes.
K-Po, I'm not sure if jLo would take well to a life of chastity and sacrifice.
Ed, what are you saying? I am possibly insulted.
Thanks for these suggestions, folks - you lot are the bestest. Am scribbling down these useful Spanish phrases as I type (am so multitaskery).
I am particularly relieved to be able to inform whomever needs to know that my donkey is in fact dead. Thanks, R to the B Dub!
And I promise I will buy shoes.
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