Quick! I Need Some Spanish Translation Skills
Remember the “Courtesy notice” from our local homeowners association – the one with a pre-trip demand to paint the pony wall in front of our house? We didn’t have time ourselves, so we contracted through a friend of a friend to get the work done. The price was right. I liked him. In fact, I like dealing with immigrant workers, not only because I get to practice my Spanish translation, but because they work hard. He could finish it up a week before we left. So we negotiated the details. I thought... That was two weeks ago. Come Wednesday – toward the end of the second week – I’m worried. The work’s crawling toward the half-way mark. “Mañana,” he says. “En la tarde” – Spanish translation: tomorrow afternoon?! Ohmygoodness. Thursday comes and goes. Friday. The weekend. Monday passes. Tuesday arrives: we’re leaving tomorrow at 3:30 a.m. My guy knows if he doesn’t finish today he won’t get paid until we get back. He’s hard at it this morning early, and with a larger crew. I keep tabs on the work. Somehow I learn he’s not planning to paint the fence columns – only the metal railings (a misunderstanding I thought we clarified a week ago). Then, as he explains the lack of progress on the patio, I realize he’s asking me if I want him to repaint it, or just apply a new seal. Another point we clarified a week ago. We even sat on the front steps and chose the color from the paint chips. So much for my Spanish translation. We’ve talked each point a half-dozen times – in English, in Spanish, all mezclado in an English-Spanish salad. We still came away with different visions. It’s the final countdown: less than 12 hours before we leave for Cusco, and unfinished tasks are raining down like hail. Amid all the normal last-minute flurries comes one of those great lessons in why we need to learn other languages. Yeah, yeah, I know: I should have written up a bilingual contract and clarified it point by point, but that takes all the fun out of doing business on a handshake. Or I could have gone with one of a half-dozen companies who specialize in this kind of work – if they would have deigned to come look at a small-potatoes job like ours. (Past experiences say no.) Besides, where’s the learning in that? No sweat, we’ve got hours left before nightfall. The work’s coming along fine. It looks great. When we get back home next month, stuffed to the brim with real-life Spanish, we’ll also be able to call up our new friend Rigoberto, tell him in fluid, unbroken sentences (dream on) how much we appreciate the work he did. Better yet, we’ll ask him what he told us in those long, ebullient explanations he gave (to which we nodded and smiled and said, “Sí, sí, buen idea”). So is there a lesson here? There’s one, I think, about construction work causing gray hairs. But everyone knows that. How about: man, if we’re going to thrive here, we need to know Spanish. More importantly, we missed a real opportunity to expand our Spanish, right here at home. We could have, should have written down the five things we needed Rigoberto to do, done a Spanish translation (to the best of our ability, combined with that of Rigoberto’s son), discussed and revised them – in Spanish and English – until we were sure we understood one another, then made one copy for him and one for us. And what would have been good for our Spanish abilities would also have been pretty helpful for our pony wall! Too late smart. Adios for now. We’re off to Peru not only for the romance of it, but to make life at home a little bit easier. Our next posting will be from south of the border. Way south. – Posted by Terry, October 2
|
