There is an amusing aspect to the language learning process that my friend Philippa accurately describes as the ‘Daily Embarrassment’. This is where students learning a language in the appropriate country say things with the best intentions, but to a native speaker sound anything from amusing to downright hilarious.

An example for English native speakers is something my conversation partner said to me today, “Oh, you’re so naughty’. I blushed and politely explained to her the connotation. She of course laughed at her mistake, and how far removed it was from what she had meant to say.

These Daily Embarrassments are great icebreakers. They’re an understandable by-product of learning another language that’s a completely innocent humour for all: the language learner can be forgiven for not yet having control of the language, and the native speakers can be forgiven for finding it so humorous.

I would like to share some of my finest moments while learning Spanish:

1) Very, very different words that are tragically one character apart.

On my first weekend in Medellín, Colombia, I thought I said to a girl in a club that, ‘I am afraid of dancing the Salsa’. Actually, and completely straight-faced I said this: ‘Tengo mierdo (de bailar salsa)’ = ‘I have some poo’.
If I hadn’t added the extra r to miedo, she wouldn’t have laughed in my face for 5 solid minutes, AND shared the blooper with all her friends. But it’s totally understandable to make these mistakes, and as I said before, Daily Embarrassments are very good icebreakers. When she had stopped crying with laughter, I got some free one-on-one tuition of how to dance the Salsa.

2) The responsibility of being the native speaker.

Every Monday night in Buenos Aires I would go to see ‘La Bomba de Tiempo’, which I wrote about a while back. It’s a huge improvised drum troupe that invite special guests every week and play to thousands of pumped up revellers. Each show is very unique.

I had very high expectations the second time I went as the first time had been stunning. With me, was my whole Spanish class plus whomever they had brought and some new Argentinian friends. Some hours in, and rather unexpectedly I thought, the show came to an end and they started to accept applause. I felt cheated by this: they had only just swapped the conductor and it felt like they were just getting going. Added to this, we had all just squeezed closer to the stage and were really loving it. I tapped one Argentinian friend’s shoulder, Melisa, and asked, “what’s the Spanish for encore?” Puzzled but happy to help, she shouted over the applause, “Tío”. I started to chant this word over and over again, getting my Spanish classmates to join in, and others among us started to join in, we were all screaming this word, “¡TIO TIO TIO TIO!” Those around me just trusted that I knew what I was saying and went along with it. Other foreigners were joining in. I felt like we were many, all chanting this word.

Some of the more latino-looking revellers were looking around, slightly mystified, but nonetheless amused by our chant. Some too had started to chant with us so I thought nothing of it. But then I looked over to our Argentinian friends, whom were very very confused by our behaviour, and had not joined in. Melisa was looking a bit worried, discussing it with the others. Over the cacophony, she shouted into my ear, “what was the word that you asked me?” I repeated, and she crinkled her nose when she didn’t understand. “You know!”, I panicked, “… like, play it again…”

“Oh no!”, she shouted. “I thought you said ‘Uncle‘!”

It seemed to work though, the band came back on the stage and played another amazing hour.

3) When you’re sure of what you meant to say, only to discover your audience had heard something quite different.

A Colombian friend, Sergio, invited me to dinner with his family two weeks ago. Around the table were sat his mother, father, girlfriend, grandmother and younger sister who is about 10 years old.

We were talking about the differences between English spoken in Britain and the USA. Sergio asked me if I would say ‘that’s rad’ in England, and I tried to reply, ‘Only Americans say that’, which would have been (in not very good Spanish): ‘Es sólo a los Americanos que dicen eso.’ But, still contending with the food I had just swallowed, the family heard something more along the lines of: ‘Es sólo a las Maricas que dicen eso‘ (I’ll tell you what it means in a minute).

Then ensued an unexpected silence after what had been an upbeat, humorous conversation. Sergio and his father considered it for a moment, and went back to their food. The mother and grandmother looked at each other, puzzled. But it’s the little sister that still cracks me up. She was truly gaping at me, dumbstruck at what I had said at the dinner table. Making it worse, I panicked and added, “it’s true, no?” Perhaps wondering where on earth I might have learned the mistaken word, Sergio asked me to repeat myself in English. He laughed, and then explained to his family what I had meant to say, and then explained to me what I had said.

To a whole family including a 10 year-old girl, I very confidently said, ‘Only the Queer Boys say that’. The shame of the blooper mixed with the unforgettable reaction of the girl was all too much and I was sincerely howling with laughter, setting off Sergio, quickly followed by the rest of the family. Another awesome icebreaker.

4) Don’t mess with sayings.

My current Spanish teacher, Luz María, is an older woman; a Colombian native speaker. She doesn’t introduce much humour into the learning process, but she’s a very natural, unaffected and passionate woman, who frequently reels off quotations from Poets and Philosophers in the same breath. In class, there are 3 other people studying with me who are all very focused on the lesson and concentrating very hard (perhaps as a reaction to the bitterness they feel for how much we had to pay for the lessons). The result is an atmosphere that can be a little stiff and not my ideal learning environment.

Today, Luz María was teaching us some useful expressions of hope. For example, ‘I hope you are well’, or, ‘good luck today’, or ‘I hope you feel better’ etc. Fairly straightforward in English; sadly not so straightforward in Spanish.

Here’s one of those common expressions:

¡Que sueñes con los angelitos!

The English equivalent would be, ‘Sweet Dreams’. The saying literally means, ‘[I hope] that you dream with the little angels.’

My swiss classmate innocently offered a synonym for the verb. “Could you say…”

¡Que duermas con los angelitos!

To which my dear, prim & proper, buttoned-down Spanish teacher replied, completely straight-faced and with her usual passionate tone:

mmm, no. Sería un poco pornográfico, Nina.
Lit: That would be a little pornographic, Nina.

Nina had effectively said, ‘[I hope] that you have sex with the little angels.’

Just what we needed! After another good old collective howl (partly at the blooper, but mainly at Luz María’s golden reaction), the atmosphere permanently turned a corner.

Unlike travel destinations with less widely spoken languages, Buenos Aires is not an English-speaking haven. English is a common language of business and of travel, and so the impetus to learn a foreign language has always remained a casual interest for me, and not a necessity. In Buenos Aires, spanish language known as Castellano, is mandatory to get around. In almost every establishment, English is only spoken to the yes-no-hello-goodbye standard, even, i found, in HSBC:  ‘The world’s local bank’. Besides banks, I think this has been a helpfully sobering experience, providing the motivation to learn.

In order to familiarise myself with Castellano, I got an online subscription to Rosetta Stone language course, which I was busying myself with in UK. It has turned out to be invaluable, and will hopefully knock me up a level when I start my language course next week. It teaches language the same way we learned our mother tongue. It’s thorough, utilising speech recognition to provide the entire listening-speaking-reading-writing experience.

Buenos Aires: The weather is hot, the beer is cheap, the people are welcoming & loquacious, and I had my first tango lesson last night.

Please leave bizarre/pretentious words you want me to slip into posts in the comments.

Spanish-themed playlist to rub in the fact that I’m eating orgasm-inducing steak every evening and you’re not: http://open.spotify.com/user/timkeeling/playlist/01RzORz6ac29t8I3e8wkkX