Outside, Looking In

This week I attended parts of an education workshop. In Spanish. I don't speak (much) Spanish. But it's a beautiful language. And I met a bunch of nice people.

And had fun hanging out with Tabitha and Alicia. And was very relieved that Matt attended all of the parts of the workshop that required individual presentations in front of the group.

I did have some interpretation. Maria, the interpreter, was a cool lady. She just wasn't there all the time. So Alicia would tell me periodically what was going on. I learned some new words (I don't know how to spell them all): aguas (as in "waters" and "beware"), palabra, and una pregunta. I had lots of preguntas. Sometimes I could almost imagine I knew what was going on, without interpretation. I wondered what it would be like to suddenly have the gift of tongues (at least the Spanish tongue) and understand everything. Sometimes I did understand, because I have picked up bits of Spanish here and there, but then I would get lost again.

I understand better now what it's like to be perfectly intelligent, yet perfectly unable to communicate ideas across language walls. I understand better now what it's like to have (almost) no idea what's going on. (I mean, it was an education workshop; so I always knew the general topic.) I understand the blank stare when everyone else is laughing at the joke. I am grateful for the one who takes pity on my blank stare and stoops to my level to explain. If I didn't learn anything else, I learned what it's like to be on the outside of a language, looking in.

I wish I knew Spanish. (Mr. Sontag, who told us in junior high that everyone should take Spanish, was right.)