I´ve made many mistakes in the last two months since I arrived in Nicaragua. Some grammatical, others cultural...for the most part, all comical. Today, however, I made a new kind of mistake. Relational.
It all started harmlessly enough when one of my colleagues invited me to lunch at the buffet down the street from the office. We were joined by my good Nica friend Hultner. We spent most of the meal discussing what happened yesterday during the Sandinista celebration of their victory over Somoza back in 1979 and the current political climate here in the country. Then, just before la cuenta (the bill) came, S. asked, “So, how´s the house?” After I briefly discussed our progress to date (all we need is a desk and some bookshelves), I launched into a story about our last experience at the Huembes Mercado looking for those two items.
“We stopped at this one corner, where there was this small bookshelf, and they wanted C$260, which I thought was reasonable, so I asked how much the other larger one was and the guy said C$480. I couldn´t understand how the addition of one shelf practically doubled the price, but the guy would not budge. Then his business partner came over and told us that in fact, the smaller one was C$350. I didn´t think it was right for them to raise the price on me. I don´t want to buy anything from those kind of people.”
I don´t know if it was my tone or inflection or the look on my face when I said that last sentence, but immediately S. and Hultner exchanged a look that told me everything. I had clearly just made a very bad verbal choice. A very bad verbal choice in front of a Nicaraguan who I like and respect immensely. A very bad verbal choice that quite possibly might affect our short but growing friendship.
As they exchanged this look, they both stood up from the table. I knew something was wrong. I had just made a terrible relational error—speaking in a judgmental, generalizing way about Nicas in front of another Nica. When we got back to the office, I burst into tears. I was arrepentida (regretful), triste (sad), and more frustrated with myself than I have been since I got here. Never in a million years before I came did I think I would ever do something like that. Words are things you can never truly take back, so I have always tried to choose mine carefully and with full awareness of their significance.
Not today. Today, I was quick to speak, and slow to listen. I wanted to make amends, so I tried to gather myself back together and immediately found Hultner and tearfully apologized.
“I am so sorry. I did not mean for that to sound the way in came out. I don´t want you to think that I don´t love this country and Nicaraguan people, because I do.”
Hultner just looked at me with a small smile, and said. “Thank you. It´s okay. You were just joking.”
I hope he forgave me. I know he will not forget what happened today. But I hope we can still be friends.
. . .
The postscript to this story come from the conversation I had with another Nica in my office shortly after all of this happened, and she encouraged me to realize that I am still very new here, still learning, and that whatever I said cannot truly reflect my heart, “or you would not be here,” she observed. She continued in her perceptive way…
“God is always speaking to us, and always teaching us, and obviously He wanted you to learn something today. So learn, and don´t look back. Don´t worry about mistakes. No one is perfect, no one has a script. At the end of the story, you´re going to be who you´re afraid to be.”
May God overcome my fears and at the end of the story, may I be the woman He wants me to be. Amen.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
6 comments:
It's not what you do first, it's what you do next. Your friends will see what you really are.
And though of course I don't know Nica culture, it seems strange to me that they would assume that by "those kind of people" you meant "Nicaraguan people," rather that what I assume you meant, which is more along the lines of "business people who think it's okay to cheat gringas." Surely not all Nicaraguan business people think it's okay to cheat gringas.
I think the hardest thing about a second language is tone. I'm sure whatever confusion arose over that will be smoothed over. They know that you're still learning.
Anya,
Yes, that is exactly what I meant. And it IS my experience in the market that there are many kinds of business people. Just like in the USA. Thanks for that reminder--"it´s what you do next". I remember hearing that in my training. : ) -pjn
Errr... I'm with Anya. Being that you're in a country just chock-full of Nicaraguans (the world's highest concentration, in fact) and that you were talking to two Nicaraguans, it would be awfully strange to assume you were referring to Nicaraguans generally and not to shady vendors. Personally, I think some fault lies with them for misinterpreting you. Were you speaking in English or Spanish? Perhaps something got lost in translation either in the speaking or the listening.
And this is a very neat story to read knowing who you are now and how God has used, shaped and formed you in your time there.
awww. dawn, i had forgotten all about this, and reading it brought me to tears.
but now i know how to begin my next (and likely final) blog post written in nicaragua.....
Post a Comment