Spending time with Hernan gives great insight into what a capricious bitch the English language is. His English is excellent. But still he gets tripped up by the language’s lack of logic and consistency.
“Miss” and “lose” are particularly troubling. Hernan can’t get his head around why it’s “miss the bus” and not “lose the bus.” I try to explain but eventually resort to “It just is.”
We also get amusement when he tries to translate a menu item and it comes out “rolling chicken.” I start stabbing the table with my fork, trying to spear the tumbling entree, which really is “rolled chicken.”
Hernan speaks English, Spanish and Quechua fluently, and my presence gives him a chance to learn new words and ask about meanings. It works both ways. My Spanish has always been piss-poor, but I’ve been taking this opportunity to exercise it, sometimes with horrible results. Once the conversation drifts past three-word phrases in present tense, I’m in trouble, as bartender Marcello found out when he tried to talk to me about futbol. When it was all said and done, I tipped him profusely, mostly out of guilt for the way I had just savaged his language.
A few other interesting linguistic gymnatics …