Adelante, inch by inch

I know a tiny bit of Spanish and in the Puerto Vallarta airport recently, as I approached a uniformed agent at the gate, they asked me, in English, for my boarding pass and passport. "Aqui estan," I said. They looked at the documents, said a few words in Spanish that ended in "... adelante," which I know means "forward" or "move ahead,” or something in that vein. And so I did. I knew it meant I was allowed to proceed.

This is not to brag or anything, because I know pitifully little Spanish, but there is something really satisfying or gratifying to me about getting through a small interaction like this in a foreign language. Maybe it's something like lifting the burden of this language, English, that has formed the parameters of my thoughts and actions for 59 years. I don't know, maybe that's too dramatic.

There was another time, when I was in Armenia. I had taken the time to learn the basic phrases. We were looking to book a tour. So I called a local tour company. They answered the phone and I said, "barev dzez," which is an informal way if saying "hello." Apparently, I said it so well that the person at the tour company followed with a long string of words in Armenian, that did not compute. "English?" I said. Then they complimented my accent and continued the conversation in English.

On that same trip, I kept hearing Armenians in conversation with each other saying what sounded like, "inch," sometimes repeated and with urgency, "inch! inch!" they would say. I found out it means, basically, "what?" So, on a stroll through town, as I was interacting with a street vendor trying to sell me pants, neither of us could really understand each other. I was confused what he was offering me or asking of me. "Inch!" I said. The vendor and his buddy laughed and laughed.

It's just fun to learn and try. I do think using another language helps you -- maybe me, anyway, to break out of something, to try out a new identity, to open the possibility of seeing things in new way. Or just giving a couple of Armenian guys a laugh.

Photo: taken by me of decorative metal work on the old farmers market building in Yerevan