I sometimes wonder why we don’t all just learn more Spanish by osmosis. I mean, it’s all around us. If we found ourselves suddenly surrounded by French-speaking people, no doubt we’d latch on and insist they teach us their beautiful language. At least that’s what I like to think. But Spanish is just as beautiful, if not more, and without the subtle snottiness. Every now and then I take another stab at learning Spanish, and I guess I learn a little bit more all the time, but it’s so hard. Hard like bending a lead pipe, and it feels equally unproductive in the early stages. I know so few phrases, and know nothing about the subtext behind my little mispronunciations. The cleaning woman at my friend’s work doesn’t speak any english and doesn’t want to, and I like her a lot, so we have these choppy, short conversations every once in a while. I ask her how her weekend was, which I only know how to say in one way, and she will ask me something about a photo, or tell me that it’s bad luck to put my purse on the floor. It is because of her that I was able to ask if I had to put my purse in the security x-ray machine in Cabo. It is because of my friend Emely that I know what the cleaning woman was talking about with the pointing and the frowning and “Mal, Mal!”. My Venezuelan friend, Maria, approaches my language difficulties with complete compassion, and warmly tolerates my yoda-esque Spanish. If I ask her to keep an eye on my camera while I go get a drink, I will say what I know translates as, “look at here?!?” But my fascination with language and expression will always keep me trying to learn.
Anyway, here’s a few pics that I forgot to put in the Cabo collection. We put my camera away at night and took out Tim’s, and kept it set at a pretty slow shutter speed. Also there was a pano pic, a complete waste in the space provided for a photo for a blog.
I got a shot of the waiter at the Trailer Park restaurant making the most interesting version of bananas foster I’ve ever seen. It took him twenty minutes to make it at the customers’ table, and he poured the rum over a partially peeled orange and set it on fire, so that the burning liquor flowed down the curly peel. It was beautiful, though we were sure it wasn’t supposed to take that long.