Bird of Paradise in Peru: Take my baby, please!

The native language of the vast majority of Peruvians is either Spanish or Quechua. Quechua (pronounced Ketch-WA) is an amalgamation of the various languages of the indigenous people of South America. It is mostly spoken in the Andean highlands of Peru, fortunately not along the coast where I live. (I’m having a hard enough time learning Spanish!)

If you learned to speak Spanish from Mexico or Puerto Rico, you might be surprised by some of the differences in Peruvian-style Spanish. For example, Mexicans call cars “coche” and Peruvians laugh when they hear that word. They use the word “carro” instead, as it describes a modern-day car and a “coche” evokes images of horse-drawn carriages.

Another difference is that a “tortilla” is not a flat bread used to roll up tacos or enchiladas – in Peru, it’s an egg and potato omlette (otherwise known as a frittata).

And a “taco” is not a Mexican-style rolled-up snack, it’s a high heel:

Image of high heel

Like any other country, the dominant language is spoken a bit differently in each region. I live in a region in the hot, dry northern part of Peru in an area called Baja Piura. I’ve been told by native Spanish speakers from other parts of the world that the style of Spanish spoken in Baja Piura sounds like it’s from somewhere in the backwoods-boondocks. Just think of the bad grammar and pronunciation of the rural south…and then place it in the Nevada desert.

One characteristic of Baja Piura lingo is the astonishing brevity used by locals. To put this in context, one evening soon after arriving in my site my host parents and I were watching the latest installment of the most popular telenovela Corazon Valiente, and during a commercial break my host mother asked me a question. “Cuando estamos?” (which literally translates to “When are we…?”). My host father realized that I had no idea what she was asking me, and he jumped in to explain that she wanted to know what is the date today. (Normally, a phrase like “Cual es la fecha de hoy?” is used to ask such a question).

This is just one example of the phrases used by the residents of my pueblo that clearly have some basis in legit Spanish, but have been twisted into head-spinning combinations that perplex even native speakers. None of my cumulative years of Spanish lessons had prepared me for these kinds of exchanges!

Another example of brevity is when a girl about 11 years old knocked on my door and she said only “Sabe ingles.” She was basically telling me that I speak English. I replied that yes, I do speak English. (I can safely assume that everyone in my pueblo is aware of that by now ;-). What she was trying to say was that she has an English class and that she needed my help. You can imagine that there was no way I could have deduced that from her initial statement!

It reminds me of my former life in Japan, where speaking in a concise manner was highly valued. In fact, it seemed to me that the Japanese language was constructed for that very purpose; each word packed in so much meaning that it was possible to make an elaborate statement with only a few brief sentences. Home of haiku poetry, Japan practically invented brevity:

Image of haiku

Given the substantial migration of Japanese citizens to South America after WWII, maybe there was some influence, or at least an affinity of language construction?

One of my most notable experiences of miscommunication comes from meeting women with small children who often speak about “regalitos” (little gifts). There is a long history of foreign organizations coming to Peru loaded with handouts, which is counterproductive to what we are trying to accomplish (we teach skills instead), and volunteers sometimes encounter locals who expect foreigners to be fully stocked with free stuff, including gifts for the kids. Each time I encountered this type of situation, I got into the habit of launching into an explanation of my purpose for coming to their community and the type of work I would be doing -- which includes teaching skills, but unfortunately not handing out gifts for kids.

During one of these encounters with a relative of my host family, I went through my explanation of my purpose for coming to Peru and she didn’t seem to grasp my meaning. She kept showing me her baby and saying “Un regalito,” and I became more earnest in my explanation. She interrupted me to ask bluntly “Do you not like children?” and I responded “Look, I don’t have any gifts for your kid!” Another family member kindly explained to me that she wanted to give me her baby as a gift, but I had interpreted “Un regalito” to mean that she wanted me to give a gift to her baby. Apparently, it was a joke…..ha, ha?

And that sparks an entirely different conversation about mothers telling their kids that if they misbehave the foreigner is going to kidnap them and take the child back to the U.S. (Sigh)