Los Extranjeros Son Para Riendo

When I took my first ever Spanish class 4 years ago, I remember my Spanish teacher telling us a funny story about a girl who was learning Spanish abroad. Apparently her stomach had growled and she tried to apologize by saying “Estoy avergonzada, tengo hambre” (I’m embarrassed. I’m hungry), but instead said “Estoy embarrassada, soy hombre,” which means “I’m pregnant. I’m a man.” I remember laughing a lot, but then hoping I never made a mistake that bad.

But unfortunately (or fortunately, if you’re my host family and enjoy retelling these stories to whoever comes over to visit as a way of updating them on my progress in Spanish), I have made quite a few of these kinds of mistakes. I haven’t called myself pregnant, or a man, but I do have an incredible knack for saying really sexual things without the slightest intent to.

There was the week I kept trying to use the verb “to take,” but didn’t know it, so I looked it up in my dictionary and spent time memorizing the verb “coger” only to use it in class the next morning and find out that in Argentina, that verb means “to fuck.” Oops.

And then there was the time I was trying to say that I thought the world would be a better place if all the world leaders were crammed into small cars and forced to go on periodic long road trips together, and somehow I ended up saying that I thought world leaders should just have sex with each other. I still have no idea how I managed that one.

And then there was the time I was talking with my host dad about food justice, and mentioned preservatives in food, only to find out that a “preservativo” is a condom.

I’ve made some entirely non-sexual but nonetheless embarrassing mistakes, too. Like the time Marcos took me to a panaderia and I pointed at something and asked if it was a robber (choro) instead of a churro. Or the time we were singing in church and I didn’t hear the pastor say “men only for this verse” and spent the whole next verse wondering why the register seemed to have gotten lower until the women-only verse started and my wondering changed from wondering why the register changed to wondering how many people heard me singing.
In reality, I’m glad for all the mistakes. It’s less embarrassing and more just hilarious and fun and part of the learning process. And besides, what’s the fun of a foreigner if they don’t give you any reason to laugh at them?