kellita the señorita the ibby dibby dow: Portuspanglish Adventure to Iguazu Falls

I'm obsessed with Spanish. Being in Brazil has been somewhat of a challenge to my Spanish-speaking/comprehension goals. But I've armed my iPod with countless Spanish lessons, podcasts, music, and videos. I've almost finished Cien Anos de Soledad, and have been doing Spanish exercises to keep up. Plus I talk to people in Spanish as much as possible whether they understand me or not.

With all that, I've also been constantly surrounded by Portuguese, and trying to learn some of that as well. The result is often a mix of what I like to call Portuspanglish that I try to use when communicating sans Juliana. I was so lucky to have her and Gu translate for me during my first weeks in Brazil. Now I am on my own again, and it's been a pretty interesting adventure.

Monday afternoon. Because I couldn't buy my bus ticket online with a US credit card, Juliana purchased it for me, and all I had to do was pick it up at the bus station. Easy. I took the 3-transfer metro to the bus station. After wandering for 20 minutes I located the bus station, but couldn't find the ticket window for my bus company. I asked for help, trying to pay attention to the pointing and Portuguese. I walked back along the row of companies. No Kaiowa Bus. I asked for help at the other end of the terminal. He pointed me back in the direction I came. Bullocks. Just as I tears were about to stream down my face I spotted an 8.5x11 piece of paper on one of the windows advertising that Kaiowa had set up a temporary booth with another company, this in about 6pt font. Saved. I bought my ticket and continued on.

Monday night/Tuesday morning 1:30 am. The bus has stopped at a rest stop. I went inside to buy a snack. When I returned the bus was gone, all my stuff still on it. Panic. I went back inside, as calmly as possible, and explained in my best Portuspanglish that my bus was gone but I wasn't on it. The only word of the 50-ish word sentence response I understood was tranquilo. How am I supposed to be tranquilo when a bus just left me in the middle of Brazil with no money, no cell phone, no underwear!? Then I noticed some bus mates sitting in the restaurant waving at me, giving me looks to let me know all was well. Tragedy averted. I went outside and somehow communicated to another distressed girl the same story, and somehow she understood me. The bus came back. All my stuff was on it. I don't know where it went and I don't care.

Tuesday morning 7:30. Arrival in Porto do Iguacu. I got off the bus to find my bag and the bus driver waiting for me. He smiled as he handed me my backpack and asked, "Eres de Argentina, no?" Me? Argentine? Are you buttering me up? At a time when I feel so much frustration and so lost in the language arena, someone thinks my Spanish is good enough that I'm actually a native speaker. So what if he speaks Portuguese. The fact is, I needed that boost.

Tuesday morning 8am. The cab drivers at the bus station didn't know where my hostel was. They kept asking me the same question and I kept giving the same answer. Luckily I had enough foresight to write down the address and cross streets and eventually we found it. Despite their claim on the internet, the staff at the hostel doesn't speak English. I got here, had a rousing game of figure out the Portuspanglish with the front desk girl before she whisked me up to my room. Success again.

After a shower and breakfast I was ready to hit the falls. I got directions from the other front-desk girl, and actually made it to the bus stop without a problem. So what if I had to ask 4 other people on the way. Point is, I made it. At the park, I decided to pay the extra money for the boat ride into the falls. I was a bit annoyed when I was joined by a tour group of 28 other people until I realized they were from Argentina. I was surrounded by the buzz of Spanish again. Worriedly, the staff scrambled to find someone to translate the tour in English for me, but I excitedly let them know it wasn't necessary. I sat up front beaming at the sound of Spanish and chatted the whole way with the tour guide.

Iguazu Falls is amazing to say the least. It's huge. It's magnificent. It's beautiful. The boat ride took us so close to the falls it took me hours to dry out afterwards. Then I took the bus to the next stop for the walking tour and more up-close-and-personal falls action.

After hours of exploring I was dead tired. I caught the bus back to town and was excited I remembered which stop was mine. On my way back to the hostel I decided groceries were necessary. Then I spent 2 hours trying to find my hostel. Oops. Bring it back down to earth, Kelly. It was sweltering hot. I was sweating bullets. I asked 6 people for directions. It was like fitting together pieces of a puzzle in a language I made up that doesn't exist for anyone else. Finally, I found it, put my groceries in the fridge only to return later to find someone else cooked up my dinner. On accident. But still. The hostel paid me the difference. I got over it.

The thing is, I can understand a lot more Portuguese than I have given myself credit for. Staying in a hostel where no one speaks English, I have to find a way to communicate, and it's working out. I speak slowly in Spanish to the Portuguese-speaking workers. We miss intricacies, but we can understand each other. It's magical. I think this month in Brazil will help my Spanish learning in the end. Because I've had to take time to really listen more, to think more about how to break things down, how to get to root words in Spanish and make them sound more Portuguese. And you know what? It's really fun. I'm still looking forward to the Spanish-speaking-Argentine side of the Falls, but I'm feeling more confident about my travel abilities in Brazil. Here's to you Portuspanglish.

my not so comfortable non-cama seat on the bus

good sunset views from the road

i want to be a cloud studier

the sun'll come out tomorrow

the site of the greatest rest area ever. seriously, america, you need to follow suit. this place has buffet-style dining with anything you could possibly want, a shopping area, and a place called NYC Burger. It's magical.