The other day, Babs of Babsblog noted how con permiso seems to be a magic phrase in Mexico. Translated literally it simply means "with permission." But, when used, it almost always results in smiles and appreciation.
I told Babs that her posting reminded me of a similar experience in Barra de Navidad last December. One of the indigenous trinket merchants on the jetty walked by, nodded, and remarked that it was a slow day. Indeed, it was. The tourist rush had not yet started. There must have been no more than 8 or 10 people walking along the jetty. After he realized I was not in a buying mood, we sat down on a bench, and I tried conversing in my broken spanish.
He was very gracious adding certain words. He spoke no english. But we talked. And laughed. And enjoyed each other's company for about an hour. I lost track of time, and then noticed I had mere minutes to catch my bus.
I felt the same awkwardness everyone does when conversation is not coming to a natural end. Then I remembered. During a pause in the conversation, I started to rise and said: "¿Con permiso?" He looked a bit surprised and then beamed. In that moment, there were a lot of cultural dynamics at work. But they all came to rest on a common field of "Con permiso."
In Bab's blog, I wrote: "Those two words are as magic as 'open sesame.'" I am not certain it was the words that made the difference. I suspect it is a matter of attitude.
Last night, while walking the dog, I walked by a fellow who was reading a book by the light of a light outside of an office building. I have seen him there before, but I have literally avoided talking with him. For some reason, I stopped last night to ask him how what was reading. He invited me to sit down. He told me he was homeless. But I already knew that. But we talked about astronomy, the economy, hope. He was extremely interesting, and probably a little mentally ill. But we talked. And laughed. And enjoyed each other's company -- just like in Barra. When I got up to leave, he thanked me for stopping.
I have met several people who are heading to Mexico because they want to experience a different culture. There are plenty of cultures to enjoy wherever you find yourself. It is just a matter of slowing down, looking, and setting aside petty fears.
I told Babs that her posting reminded me of a similar experience in Barra de Navidad last December. One of the indigenous trinket merchants on the jetty walked by, nodded, and remarked that it was a slow day. Indeed, it was. The tourist rush had not yet started. There must have been no more than 8 or 10 people walking along the jetty. After he realized I was not in a buying mood, we sat down on a bench, and I tried conversing in my broken spanish.
He was very gracious adding certain words. He spoke no english. But we talked. And laughed. And enjoyed each other's company for about an hour. I lost track of time, and then noticed I had mere minutes to catch my bus.
I felt the same awkwardness everyone does when conversation is not coming to a natural end. Then I remembered. During a pause in the conversation, I started to rise and said: "¿Con permiso?" He looked a bit surprised and then beamed. In that moment, there were a lot of cultural dynamics at work. But they all came to rest on a common field of "Con permiso."
In Bab's blog, I wrote: "Those two words are as magic as 'open sesame.'" I am not certain it was the words that made the difference. I suspect it is a matter of attitude.
Last night, while walking the dog, I walked by a fellow who was reading a book by the light of a light outside of an office building. I have seen him there before, but I have literally avoided talking with him. For some reason, I stopped last night to ask him how what was reading. He invited me to sit down. He told me he was homeless. But I already knew that. But we talked about astronomy, the economy, hope. He was extremely interesting, and probably a little mentally ill. But we talked. And laughed. And enjoyed each other's company -- just like in Barra. When I got up to leave, he thanked me for stopping.
I have met several people who are heading to Mexico because they want to experience a different culture. There are plenty of cultures to enjoy wherever you find yourself. It is just a matter of slowing down, looking, and setting aside petty fears.
3 comments:
Amen! I find when I go to the states and I speak to people on the street, in the grocery store or wherever, they appear startled and sometimes shocked! But, if you get a chance to "peel back the layers", there is gratefulness,sometimes.
I love that you stopped!
After two years in Mexico I find that I've gotten over my gringo reticence to make conversation with strangers. People here are almost inevitably polite and really appreciate it when I use the courtesies they've been taught from childhood. And I, too, notice that when I go back to the States, I have to remember that strangers are going to react negatively if I act too friendly, as though I might be nutty or something.
Bliss --
Your comment could not be more timely. While walking Professor Jiggs through the park last evening, I noticed there was a woman walking parallel with us on the other side of the creek. As we turned a corner, there she was waiting for us -- crying slightly. She hesitated and then asked, "May I pet your dog?" I am ashamed to say I was a bit hesitant, but Jiggs made a beeline for her. While giving him hugs, she said she had just lost her two golden retrievers. I am glad Jiggs was more sensitive than I was.
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