Personal Prose Post
Happy Holidays, everyone! Here is a little Christmas story I wrote. OK, maybe the main character is a little like me. Diane
Mary had failed Spanish in the seventh grade, and was so traumatized afterward that every time she tried to utter even a few words of a foreign language, her tongue would stick to the roof of her mouth and she would itch all over. Although as an adult she loved foreign travel, she gave up on trying to speak the local language and always stayed where the staff spoke English. And she never, ever strayed outside her comfort zone where she might be forced to consult the translation dictionary she always carried, unopened and pristine, in her backpack.
Then last November, she and her husband Don visited their favorite resort in Playa del Carmen, Mexico, on the Caribbean Sea. Their room had a thatched roof and a balcony with two hammocks overlooking the turquoise sea. It was exquisite. Although the employees spoke English, they all smiled and said, “Hola,” when they passed guests on their way to the pool or the restaurant. It took her several days, but eventually Mary tried returning the greeting. “Hola,” she would say, careful to leave off the “H” and pronounce each syllable distinctly, with a slight rise in inflection at the end, almost like asking a question. Nobody laughed, so she continued with that one word. Hola. Hello.
In the afternoons she and Don strolled on the Quinto Avenida, where the shops sold tee-shirts describing it as the “other” Fifth Avenue. This vibrant shopping area, running parallel to the beach for a couple of miles, was festooned with Christmas lights shaped like chili peppers. The shops sold everything from cigars to silver to pottery to food to clothing. Hawkers stood in front of each store and called out to tourists from all over the world in heavily accented English. “Senora, please take a look in my store,” or “Hey, lady, I give you a good price.”
Years earlier she’d learned to politely respond, “No, gracias,” without making eye contact, and to keep walking. During their week-long stay the rebuff came more easily, although she couldn’t roll the “r” in “gracias” the way the locals did, and her neck itched a little. She never tried to buy anything, sure she’d be overrun by aggressive salespeople who would sell her trinkets she didn’t need at prices she couldn’t afford just because she was too timid to resist.
But, during the week, she kept imagining the joy of returning home and embracing her grandchildren. They would never think to ask, “What did you bring me?” but she would know she hadn’t bothered to buy anything for them, even though potential gifts abounded on the Avenue. It was unbearable. So, on their last day, she gathered up her courage and decided to buy Christmas presents for the grandchildren.
The concierge coached them on haggling. “Never take the first price stated by the merchant. Offer only what you think something is worth.” Mary took a deep breath, and she and Don started down the Avenue. The first shop they came to carried the plastic Spiderman mask she knew one grandson would like. Nothing in any of the shops had a price tag, though. When she asked how much it cost, the saleslady declared, with a straight face, “Twenty-five American dollars.” Far too much for a plastic mask. She tentatively offered $15 and was met by a flurry of indecipherable Spanish, apparently implying that the low offer was an insult. Eventually they agreed on $20, still too much, but what could she do?
A couple of stores later she’d managed to purchase a Batman cape for $10 and was beginning to like haggling.
There was one more gift she wanted to buy before she could return to the resort and enjoy an icy margarita ringed with salt: a Mexican fiesta dress, with colorful embroidery and a twirly skirt for her very feminine granddaughter. She only had a $20 bill left, though, and without price tags, she had no idea if it would be adequate.
She and Don wandered down the Avenue, trying not to look too interested while at the same time intending to buy a size 8 girl’s dress. The first store they stopped at didn’t carry size 8, so they moved on. The second store had a nice variety of sizes and styles. “What color would she like?” asked the merchant, a handsome man of around 30.
Don gave her a wink and wandered off to buy a Cuban cigar. She was on her own. “Pink or purple,” she said, resigned to listening to the entire sales pitch. She finally chose a dress and they began to haggle.
“$40,” the salesman insisted.
“No. $20 is all I have.” She pulled the bill from her shorts pocket and waved it around. After several back and forths, and after she’d walked away and been enticed back, he relented and took her offer.
Instantly, they became best friends. As he packed up the dress he tried to assure her that it wouldn’t get smaller in the wash. His English was serviceable, but he didn’t know the specific word. So he used his hands, moving them from wide apart to closer and shaking his head.
“Shrink,” she said, finally understanding. “It won’t shrink.”
“Yes.” He beamed. And then, more thoughtfully, he tried out the word. “Shwink. Is that right?”
She showed him how it looked, sticking out her lips to start the word and then pulling them back to finish it. “Shrink.”
He tried again and again, each time saying it the same way, laughing when he got it wrong. She laughed with him, and showed him over and over how to say the word. When her package was ready he handed it to her, but there was a furrow in his brow. Clearly, he was thinking about something. She waited.
Finally he said, “I think I’ve got it now. Here goes.” He set his lips exactly as she had set hers and burst out, loud and clear and proud of himself, “SHWINK!”
She hesitated, caught between wanting to leave and feeling the responsibility to continue helping him speak the word correctly. Finally she said, “Good enough,” and, without worrying about whether she could roll her “r’s”, added, “Gracias. Feliz Navidad.”
. Riffling through her dictionary, she headed up the Avenue. Her body didn’t itch at all.
Posted in Writing | No Comments » | December 21st, 2011
