Second Language

Greetings from the stranger in a strange land, It is easy to think that the world is the same all over when most of your days are spent in the same place.   Which is an excellent reason to get out of your chair and go see what the truth is. I don´t speak Spanish, and the people in Buenos Aires don´t mind, generally.  We have found a blend of pantomime, sketching, and a few fragments of high school foreign language to communicate.  It is amusing to watch others try this too.  Some compensate by speaking louder or gesturing more dramatically, or pointing and raising their eyebrows.  It´s not as amusing when it´s me. But somehow we manage.  The people here are willing, thankfully.  Cabbies and waiters, accustomed to people like me, piece together their own pantomime-translation.  I know they are trying to speak using small Spanish words so I´ll understand. The man on the street walking his dog who asked me a question, and the couple riding bikes who greeted me, and the woman who tried to give me directions, all gave their best effort, and we managed.  I  have to admit that I feel a little like a slacker for not coming better prepared to speak their language.  For certain, it will make me more patient whenever I run into someone at home who doesn´t speak English. It is sliding into winter  here, another reminder that the world is bigger than what usually think of.  The moon looks the same from here, the sky lights up and goes dark in the same way, but tilted slightly different.  It is a perspective I could not have felt sitting my den at  home, my little niche in this rock. Just being in a huge city is enough to adjust my perspective.  The traffic and hustle and hurry, the jagged highrise skyline, the mix of architecture, the vast variety of little worlds within this city. I think everyone who travels at some point will seek what is familiar, even if it is for a moment.  Maybe it is a comfort, or to refresh the vigor needed to explore a new place.  As much as I have enjoyed the refreshing feeling that comes with this adventure, there was a moment yesterday when I connected with something that warmed my heart.  Not just because it reminded me of ´home´ but more so because it reminded me of the human experience that is in every place. I went for a run with friends yesterday morning and we found that there was a marathon scheduled just a few blocks from my  hotel.   There were all the elements of the race that I knew; the stage, the water tables, the starting line choked with festive colors and balloons.  And this palpable energy, thrumming in the morning sun, hundreds of athletes, all of whom spoke my language, warming up, stretching, nervous before the gun set them free to explore whatever the morning held for them. Everywhere in the world, including this place beneath the equator, I can exchange nods with a runner, or the little swipe of the hand as we pass one another.   A universal language, another way we find to know each other better than what English will allow. What is encouraging in this is that there are connections like this by the thousands that I have not discovered.  They may be in music or babies or dancing or food or in polo.  I am sitting here surrounded by millions of people who have their own way of communicating with me, if only I will be patient enough to learn what it is. Time to go learn the language. Hope this finds you lost in translation, David