Lessons on Dating, Spanish, and Friendship
I arrive in Mexico only knowing Mexican restaurant menu Spanish and without a map or a guidebook. Fortunately, Juan-Carlos has rescued me. My Spanish teacher was not only an excellent teacher, but also interesting. In class he restricted our language to Spanish, with the penalty for all infractions being a “grande” amount of chocolate. This leaves me mostly speechless, so I ignore the rule. I’ll bring a bunch of chocolate at the end of the week.
Juan Carlos is one of those men that reminds me of my high school band teacher. He is kind of short, partially balding dark brown hair, and a bit pudgy. He wears those teacher wool sweaters that make you want to give them a big hug just to feel how warm they are. He has such a gentle face that it is hard for me to not think he is already a good friend.
Juan Carlos and I have a lot in common. We both like to laugh a lot, and we both like boys. We just like different kinds of boys. He likes the bad boys, and I like the good ones. One day, I was telling Juan Carlos about my undying crush on the manager of the hostel where we are staying.
“Who? What is his name?” Juan Carlos demands.
“Oscar,” I sigh.
Juan Carlos started to laugh. “Oscar? He is too nice! I don't think that you like him.” Nevertheless, I can’t stop thinking about Oscar's kind smile and those eyes that could almost look into my soul.
But, there is no time for day dreaming! It is time for Spanish class and I'm already behind.
Three other people are taking the entry level Spanish class with me. Two of my school mates, Krista and Carol, and Ken, an older Canadian man. Ken drove to central Mexico from Canada. This being said, only certain people can make that long of a drive and still keep their sanity intact. Ken wasn't one of those people. He has very thick glasses which he looks over most of the time when he talks. When he entered the classroom earlier he asked us what we had done the night before and wondered if we had partied to hard. Ken, possibly, has spent his life partying too hard. Or maybe he's just tired today.
When Juan-Carlos told us on the first day that we would be learning basic vocabulary expressions, I think he felt particularly sympathetic toward Ken. The grey-haired man struggled with sentence structure and general pronunciation even after Juan-Carlos would slowly dictate exactly what the Ken was to say. Juan Carlos' first-grade-teacher tone was not only reserved for Ken; he used it on all of us. Juan Carlos praises our conversation skills and understanding of the language even when we don't deserve it.
Part of my problem is that I'm having a hard time staying focused. I start to day dream again, thinking of Oscar. Along with being the man of my dreams; he also owns, operates, and lives at the hostel. You know those people that you meet and don't speak too much but you still feel the connection of a kindred spirit? That is how I feel about Oscar. He speaks English fairly well so I have no excuse for the lack of verbal communication in our non-existent relationship.
Normally, I'm very outgoing and do not struggle with words, however, whenever Oscar is around words fail me. According to my traveling companions, he always serves me first at breakfast and is constantly smiling at me.
“Oh my gosh! Marcy he totally serves you first every morning for breakfast.” Says my friend Amy.
“Really? I didn't notice.” I said this trying to keep the excitement out of my voice.
“Totally! I definitely think that there is something there.”
There are other signs that might indicate to mutual crushing. Just last night, on my way out for the evening, I was wearing my best travel sweater. There stood Oscar by the door.
“Hola!” he said.
“Hola.” I said back. Let's just say it was a magical exchange.
I'm trying to concentrate. Today we are talking about ciudad which means important places. The first word on the white board is iglesia which means church. As I am writing this down, Juan Carlos was asking us if we knew any important places. I look over at my friend Carol and she says, “What about cantina?” We all laugh, at first, because it's ironic that we would talk about the bar in class, let alone right after we just discussed the church. But for some reason Juan-Carlos is laughing even harder than the rest of us. He asks her if she's ever been to a cantina and she said, “of course I've been to a bar.” Juan-Carlos then informs us that only old men who want to get stupid drunk go there.
“It's a dirty place,” he declares, “where me go to make pee pee.” He walks over to one side of the room to give us a fake demonstration for dramatic effect. We are all laughing now.
“No women go there,” Juan Carlos looks pointedly at me, “besides Carol,” We laugh harder. Poor Carol is kind and lovely. She would be the last person one would expect to go hang out the old drunks of the town.
After class I take a nap. When I wake from my nap I see the half full bottle of tequila. Even though the night before I may have had one to many tequila shots I still made a mental plan to go find limes, salt, and mixer. I get dressed and decided to ask Krista to come help me.
This is when a beautiful plan occurs to me.
“Maybe Oscar can help us!” I vow to ask Oscar if he knows where to get limes. We grab our purses and head down the stairs. We walk over to the reasturant doorway and see him in the restaurant by the bar with his back to us.
“Hello!” I say.
He turned around as a smile spreads across his face.
“Hola! Can I help you with something?” I'm having difficulty breathing.
“Well, I have a bit of a problem. I have a grande amount of cheap tequila in my room and nothing to mix it with. I was wondering where we can go to purchase some limes.” Oscar gazes at me with a half-smile half frown,
“Oh! There are no markets nearby, let alone ones that are still open. There are plenty of limes in the kitchen and I would be happy to go get you some.”
“That's okay I can just go get something to mix it with. What is good to mix with tequila?” I am actually talking to Oscar.
“Maybe sprite or something? But I'm going to go get you some limes. Wait here.” He gives Krista and me a quick smile before he goes and I start to tell Krista about how handsome I think he is. That is just when I look up and he is waiting for me to finish my statement.
“How would you like the limes cut señorita? I can cut them in fourths or halves if you'd like.” “Halves are fine, thank you.” I breathe faintly.
Oscar comes back three minutes later with a plate of limes on one side and salt on the other.
“Gracias,” I smile.
I try to give him ten pesos, which he refuses looking me straight in the eyes. I relive the enchanted lime conversation.
The next day at Escuela Mexicana, after our last day of class we have a fiesta and diploma ceremony. I'm so sad that it is our last day in Mexico. I give a quick muddled speech about how I'm thankful for learning about hombres and cantinas and everyone laughs.
When everyone else is dancing I go sit down by Juan-Carlos. We start to talk about school, music, and dancing.
“So honey, how are things going with Oscar?” I am ashamed to tell him about the lime conversation, so I tell him that nothing new has happened.
“Today is your last day in Guanajuato! Make the most of it! Go to Oscar.”
On our way through the hostel I see Oscar through the kitchen door and he looks up and smiles at me. But again, I'm shy and terrified. After I've finished putting all of the makeup, sweet smells, and glittery clothes, I head down the stairs with my friends to enjoy our last night in Mexico together. Oscar is waiting at the door as usual for customers to come in. He doesn't really say hello to anyone in particular and just nods at the rest of the girls until I'm walking by. He smiles and says
“Hola. ¿Cómo estás?" ?” I know enough Spanish at this point to reply. I can hear Juan Carlos' instruction ringing in my head. I should say, “Hola. Muy bien. Gracias. Y tu?” Instead I mumble “Hola!” and keep walking. I've blown it! And with only twelve measly hours left in Mexico! I promise myself that tomorrow morning I will say goodbye and thank him with the cultural kiss on the cheek that I hope would ignite a long distance relationship that would later lead to marriage.
The next morning, however, Oscar was very busy with the older Americans staying at the hostel. He doesn't even come to get our coffee order because he is so busy. And then the cab that is to take us to the airport arrives. I look around to say goodbye to Oscar but he is nowhere to be found, so we just leave. We pack our things in the cars, say goodbye to our friends, and without a thought we head to the airport where we board a plane back to the States. On the plane ride home I think about Oscar, relieved I didn’t throw myself at him. That last “Hola” carried dignity at least. I think that he and I could have made a lovely couple. I'll probably forget about the silly crush that I had on Oscar. But I will never forget the great friend I found in Juan Carlos and my travel companions. My life isn't full of exotic trysts with handsome men but it is full of great friends.
Juan Carlos is one of those men that reminds me of my high school band teacher. He is kind of short, partially balding dark brown hair, and a bit pudgy. He wears those teacher wool sweaters that make you want to give them a big hug just to feel how warm they are. He has such a gentle face that it is hard for me to not think he is already a good friend.
Juan Carlos and I have a lot in common. We both like to laugh a lot, and we both like boys. We just like different kinds of boys. He likes the bad boys, and I like the good ones. One day, I was telling Juan Carlos about my undying crush on the manager of the hostel where we are staying.
“Who? What is his name?” Juan Carlos demands.
“Oscar,” I sigh.
Juan Carlos started to laugh. “Oscar? He is too nice! I don't think that you like him.” Nevertheless, I can’t stop thinking about Oscar's kind smile and those eyes that could almost look into my soul.
But, there is no time for day dreaming! It is time for Spanish class and I'm already behind.
Three other people are taking the entry level Spanish class with me. Two of my school mates, Krista and Carol, and Ken, an older Canadian man. Ken drove to central Mexico from Canada. This being said, only certain people can make that long of a drive and still keep their sanity intact. Ken wasn't one of those people. He has very thick glasses which he looks over most of the time when he talks. When he entered the classroom earlier he asked us what we had done the night before and wondered if we had partied to hard. Ken, possibly, has spent his life partying too hard. Or maybe he's just tired today.
When Juan-Carlos told us on the first day that we would be learning basic vocabulary expressions, I think he felt particularly sympathetic toward Ken. The grey-haired man struggled with sentence structure and general pronunciation even after Juan-Carlos would slowly dictate exactly what the Ken was to say. Juan Carlos' first-grade-teacher tone was not only reserved for Ken; he used it on all of us. Juan Carlos praises our conversation skills and understanding of the language even when we don't deserve it.
Part of my problem is that I'm having a hard time staying focused. I start to day dream again, thinking of Oscar. Along with being the man of my dreams; he also owns, operates, and lives at the hostel. You know those people that you meet and don't speak too much but you still feel the connection of a kindred spirit? That is how I feel about Oscar. He speaks English fairly well so I have no excuse for the lack of verbal communication in our non-existent relationship.
Normally, I'm very outgoing and do not struggle with words, however, whenever Oscar is around words fail me. According to my traveling companions, he always serves me first at breakfast and is constantly smiling at me.
“Oh my gosh! Marcy he totally serves you first every morning for breakfast.” Says my friend Amy.
“Really? I didn't notice.” I said this trying to keep the excitement out of my voice.
“Totally! I definitely think that there is something there.”
There are other signs that might indicate to mutual crushing. Just last night, on my way out for the evening, I was wearing my best travel sweater. There stood Oscar by the door.
“Hola!” he said.
“Hola.” I said back. Let's just say it was a magical exchange.
I'm trying to concentrate. Today we are talking about ciudad which means important places. The first word on the white board is iglesia which means church. As I am writing this down, Juan Carlos was asking us if we knew any important places. I look over at my friend Carol and she says, “What about cantina?” We all laugh, at first, because it's ironic that we would talk about the bar in class, let alone right after we just discussed the church. But for some reason Juan-Carlos is laughing even harder than the rest of us. He asks her if she's ever been to a cantina and she said, “of course I've been to a bar.” Juan-Carlos then informs us that only old men who want to get stupid drunk go there.
“It's a dirty place,” he declares, “where me go to make pee pee.” He walks over to one side of the room to give us a fake demonstration for dramatic effect. We are all laughing now.
“No women go there,” Juan Carlos looks pointedly at me, “besides Carol,” We laugh harder. Poor Carol is kind and lovely. She would be the last person one would expect to go hang out the old drunks of the town.
After class I take a nap. When I wake from my nap I see the half full bottle of tequila. Even though the night before I may have had one to many tequila shots I still made a mental plan to go find limes, salt, and mixer. I get dressed and decided to ask Krista to come help me.
This is when a beautiful plan occurs to me.
“Maybe Oscar can help us!” I vow to ask Oscar if he knows where to get limes. We grab our purses and head down the stairs. We walk over to the reasturant doorway and see him in the restaurant by the bar with his back to us.
“Hello!” I say.
He turned around as a smile spreads across his face.
“Hola! Can I help you with something?” I'm having difficulty breathing.
“Well, I have a bit of a problem. I have a grande amount of cheap tequila in my room and nothing to mix it with. I was wondering where we can go to purchase some limes.” Oscar gazes at me with a half-smile half frown,
“Oh! There are no markets nearby, let alone ones that are still open. There are plenty of limes in the kitchen and I would be happy to go get you some.”
“That's okay I can just go get something to mix it with. What is good to mix with tequila?” I am actually talking to Oscar.
“Maybe sprite or something? But I'm going to go get you some limes. Wait here.” He gives Krista and me a quick smile before he goes and I start to tell Krista about how handsome I think he is. That is just when I look up and he is waiting for me to finish my statement.
“How would you like the limes cut señorita? I can cut them in fourths or halves if you'd like.” “Halves are fine, thank you.” I breathe faintly.
Oscar comes back three minutes later with a plate of limes on one side and salt on the other.
“Gracias,” I smile.
I try to give him ten pesos, which he refuses looking me straight in the eyes. I relive the enchanted lime conversation.
The next day at Escuela Mexicana, after our last day of class we have a fiesta and diploma ceremony. I'm so sad that it is our last day in Mexico. I give a quick muddled speech about how I'm thankful for learning about hombres and cantinas and everyone laughs.
When everyone else is dancing I go sit down by Juan-Carlos. We start to talk about school, music, and dancing.
“So honey, how are things going with Oscar?” I am ashamed to tell him about the lime conversation, so I tell him that nothing new has happened.
“Today is your last day in Guanajuato! Make the most of it! Go to Oscar.”
On our way through the hostel I see Oscar through the kitchen door and he looks up and smiles at me. But again, I'm shy and terrified. After I've finished putting all of the makeup, sweet smells, and glittery clothes, I head down the stairs with my friends to enjoy our last night in Mexico together. Oscar is waiting at the door as usual for customers to come in. He doesn't really say hello to anyone in particular and just nods at the rest of the girls until I'm walking by. He smiles and says
“Hola. ¿Cómo estás?" ?” I know enough Spanish at this point to reply. I can hear Juan Carlos' instruction ringing in my head. I should say, “Hola. Muy bien. Gracias. Y tu?” Instead I mumble “Hola!” and keep walking. I've blown it! And with only twelve measly hours left in Mexico! I promise myself that tomorrow morning I will say goodbye and thank him with the cultural kiss on the cheek that I hope would ignite a long distance relationship that would later lead to marriage.
The next morning, however, Oscar was very busy with the older Americans staying at the hostel. He doesn't even come to get our coffee order because he is so busy. And then the cab that is to take us to the airport arrives. I look around to say goodbye to Oscar but he is nowhere to be found, so we just leave. We pack our things in the cars, say goodbye to our friends, and without a thought we head to the airport where we board a plane back to the States. On the plane ride home I think about Oscar, relieved I didn’t throw myself at him. That last “Hola” carried dignity at least. I think that he and I could have made a lovely couple. I'll probably forget about the silly crush that I had on Oscar. But I will never forget the great friend I found in Juan Carlos and my travel companions. My life isn't full of exotic trysts with handsome men but it is full of great friends.
Watch Marcy read her story here