I love listening to translated songs because I find it insanely interesting to see how different lines are interpreted. Sometimes it is very literally done: “I want to see You” becomes “Yo quiero verte.” Other times, the poetry is rewritten a little bit: “Break my heart for what breaks Yours” becomes “Muestrame tu corazon,” or literally “Show me Your heart.”
What really impresses me, however, is how they manage to make the words rhyme, even in the translated language. So I was listening to this translated song (I don't even remember which song it was) and laughing to myself thinking, “Of course, it must be easy to rhyme in Spanish. So many words have the same endings!”
...
And that’s when it hit me.
In English, you can write poetry or songs or novels, and they are beautiful because of what the words say. In Spanish, the words are the beauty. Spanish is poetry. Spanish is a song. Spanish is beautiful without trying.
Here’s a list of some of my favorite Spanish Word Quirks:
Poder: This word has two distinctly different meanings that probably are not
meant to be related, and yet I can’t help making the connection anyway. The first meaning is the verb “can” or “to be
able to.” Of course, everyone learns that
in Spanish I—or even in cheesy Disney Channel movies (“Si, se puede!”). But the second meaning I only learned (as I
learned much of my Spanish this year) after hearing it in several worship songs. This second meaning is the word “power.” In Spanish worship, God is always coming “con
poder.” God is “todo-poderoso.” I think the connection was made when I
remembered a shirt I saw once in Haiti that said “Kris kapab” or “Christ can.” God is powerful. God can.
God is powerful because He can. And we can do anything through Him.
“Por Ti, todo lo puedo!”
Esperar: Here’s another word with two meanings: “to hope” and “to
wait.” It has become a pet-peeve of mine
when language-learners say something like this, “If it’s the same word, how do
we know which one they mean?!” And the
answer given is always simply, “Context.”
Now don’t get me wrong. I’m
guilty of this complaint in a language class setting., too
(Confession time: I still can’t tell the difference between the
word for sit (sentar) and the word for feel (sentir). “He’s either asking me if I’m feeling okay...
or if my chair is comfortable. I’ll just
smile and nod.”)
But I’ve realized that there’s no need for "context" in most
cases. The two words simply mean the
SAME THING. If someone says they are
waiting for you, he is really saying he is hoping for you to come. And if someone says they hope you feel better,
she really means she is waiting for the day when you will smile again. “Do they mean hope or wait?” “Yes.”
It’s beautiful. Don’t question
it. Just embrace it.
Querer: A similar verb is querer, which usually means “to want,”
but is also used to tell someone that you love them. “Te quiero.”
I want you. Dang you and your poetic romanticism,
Spanish. Stop it.
Lo siento: Here comes New Language Pet Peeve #2: approximate translations
with no literal context. Most gringos
probably know that this phrase means “I’m sorry,” but few probably know that it actually means, “I
feel it.” When apologizing, Spanish skips
right over sympathy and jumps straight to empathy.
It’s not just “I’m sorry that happened to you.” Instead, it becomes, “That pain you’re
feeling? I feel it, too.”
Que tienes?: Okay, this one I just like. In Spanish, they use the word “to have”
(tener) in many instances when we would use “to be” in English. “I have 20 years old.” “I have hunger.” “I have coldness.” What we would consider a state of being, they
see as something you either have or don’t have.
I have a friend here who can always tell when I’m upset about
something. But it’s never “What’s wrong?”
or “Are you okay?” He always just simply
asks, “Que tienes?” “What do you have?”
Adios: When I first got here, I used to think that it was really
strange that when you pass people on the street, they will say, “Adios!” I thought, “Goodbye? You just saw me!” In English, we don’t do that. (Well, in the States... Do English people do
this? Canadian? Austrailian?
I need to know now!) Anyway, in
the States, if you pass someone on
the street, it’s polite to greet by saying, “Hello!”
But you would never say, “Goodbye!”
It would sound silly.
(And this
is where Pet Peeve #2 kicks in again...)
But I realized that if you think about
it, “adios” does not literally mean “goodbye.”
“Good” is “bueno” and who the heck knows what a “bye” is? No, no.
“Adios” actually means “to God.” Check
it out—It’s the same thing in French: “adieu”
literally means “to God.” After this
epiphany, I made a silent habit of translating the word as such any time someone
said it to me. “Why, thank you,
Stranger. To God to you, too.”
Sorry about my Language Geek-Out... Don’t let it fool you. My Spanish is still pretty dang awful. In fact, if my language rant bored you, here
are some of my Spanish Screw-Ups to make you smile. Schadenfreude, my friends.
Oops #1: When I first got here, I thought Honduran mangos were
the most disgusting thing on the planet.
Seriously. What is wrong with
these mangos? Why are they hard? Why do people eat them salty? What is this nonsense? But then I learned that Good Mango Season was
just later in the year. So I
waited--I hoped--for big, soft, juicy mangos.
Finally, they’re here. A
guy is selling mangos out of the back of his truck, so I go over to buy
one. But I want to make sure I get a real mango. A Good Mango.
So I’m trying to explain to him the kind I want: “Yes, sir, I’d like
a mango, please... but not the hard kind.
You know, one with lots of juice? Not hard.” And he smiles, nods, and
says, “Mas duro?” Which means “Harder.” “No!
No! Not hard!” I emphatically
respond. “Really juicy!” He smiles again, hands me a mango, and says, “Si! Mas duro!”
What the heck? “Duro” does mean “hard,”
right? “No.” I try to explain again. “NO duro.
Con jugo!” Finally, the guy gives
up on me and hands me a mango, insisting that it’s what I want. I feel it.
Seems okay. And it was.
Three days later I find out that the word for soft Good Mangos
is... wait for it... maduro. Epic fail,
Gringa.
Oops #2: I was hanging out with my friend who usually walks with
me to church. I was about to leave, so I
asked if he was going that night. He
wasn’t sure. So I asked him to call me. “Me llamas?” Then he (and this is always a bad sign) smiled
and said, “Yes, I’ll call you!” But he
kept giving me that “You-Just-Said-Something-Stupid-But-You-Don’t-Realize-It-Yet”
Smile. “Yes, of course, I’ll call you,
Melissa!” he said again, trying not to
laugh. "What is so funny?!" And that’s when I realized that I forgot to
pronounce the ‘ll’ like a ‘j,’ making my phrase sound like “Me amas?” “Do you love me?” Needless to say, I corrected myself, and as I
walked away very red in the face, I could still hear him cracking up about it. Jerk.
Honduras Two-Week Truck-It List
(Warning: Most of these will be food-eating...)
-Finish Follow
Me to Freedom by Shane Claiborne and John Perkins
-Crepes at
Bistro Green
-Brownie at
Yat Balaam
-Buena
Baleada
-Pizza
place!
-Taco
Place! (And not accidentally get ice cream instead again...)
-Empanada
Place!
-Visit the
Bird Park
-Visit the
Butterfly House
-Stay an
entire day at Camp Hope
-Spend time
at the pool
-Learn “Hosanna”
in Spanish
