Speaking Spanish in Mexico

I’ve worked for most of my life to learn Spanish. Languages don’t come easily to me. In fifth grade, I had classmates and friends who were daughters of migrant farm workers and spoke very limited English. This was back in the day when immigrant kids were placed in classrooms depending on their language skills, not their age (we didn’t really do bilingual ed back then) so at ten, I had classmates ranging from nine to sixteen years old. No kidding, sixteen. She had been placed in kindergarten at ten when she came to the US. I’ve always wondered what happened to her; I’m assuming she didn’t finish school because who wants to stay in high school into their mid-twenties?

I spent time at their homes, which were often one-bedroom apartments for families of five or more. My friend had her own room—it was a closet. And not a walk-in closet. And they said it was better than they had in Mexico.

Obviously, Mexico has all levels of income, just like the United States, but many who came to the US were very poor and had limited education. That stuck with me, and I started trying to learn Spanish, first by checking out kids' books from our library (I will always remember the short list of names they had translated into Spanish and wishing I had a name that would translate). Unfortunately, the Spanish teachers in my junior high and high school were absolutely terrible, so much of my Spanish has been self-taught and learned by practice and by being willing to sound like a fool in Spanish-speaking countries.

Traveling in Mexico and speaking Spanish, you get to know people as more than just a tourist getting services. Many people tell me about a relative or friend who has come to the US. They are so gracious to me and tell me how good my Spanish is, even when I’m making mistakes, and how welcome I am here.

I think about how different that is in the US. Granted, I’m a tourist and not an immigrant, but I feel like I’d get the same reception as an immigrant here. Compare that to calling people “illegals” and talking about how everyone in American should speak English, and looking down at those who don’t.

 

I'm taking Spanish lessons again, this time online with a Mexican woman who lives in Mérida , in the state of Yucatán. She is a stellar teacher and I think would become a good friend if we lived close enough together. She's helping me learn the rules behind so many words and phrases I know but never learned correctly. She laughs when I say something that she says is "very Mexican," and is excited that I love learning her language and about her country. 

I feel so fortunate to have the chance to learn more, but I think again about how different it would be if I were trying to survive in a country with another language, not with free time and the ability to take a class, but trying to take care of a family and meet our basic needs while also struggling with learning a language. 

Every time I go to Mexico, I am amazed at how gracious and patient people are when I make mistakes or don't know a specific Spanish word. Hopefully I can remember to emulate that at home.