¡Joder!

Through trial and error, we have found that the best way to find Spanish people to talk to is to go to a crowded public place and speak English loudly. Poorly spoken Spanish doesn´t have the same magical properties, and speaking it will only get you weird, judgemental glares. But rapid fire English is a sure bet. For some reasons that fascinates and excites Spanish people who know a little bit of English. So they loudly shout out words in English, and then ask the obligatory "¿De dónde eres? ¿Ingleterra?" And they get extra excited when they find out that we are American, or estadounidense. Then maybe they call their friends over to talk broken English to us, while we reply in poor Spanish. One thing is for certain: Spainards cannot pronounce my name. The gan sound is just not a part of their phoenetics. They like to call me "Me-han," which I guess I´m okay with. It´s better than Mr. Markealli, my 8th grade language arts teacher, who called me "Megs." Oh no you didn't...

On Saturday night we had a typical Spanish interaction with a bunch of old Spanish dudes. This interaction was notable for two things. First, when I tried to tell them my name, after I repeated it like 4 times they decided that it was Maggie. I figured why the heck not, as said that was right, yo soy Maggie. Which sent them into stupid Spanish laughter, and got the comment "Like the baby in the Simpsons!" Yes, they have the Simpsons here, only it is dubbed with weird voices. Anyways, dumb old guys laughed about my fake name for a while, then invited us to go somewhere to dance. ¡Joder no! (Joder roughly means fucking hell in Spanish). Much to my dismay, half of my group debated taking up the offer to go dancing with los viejos. At which point I went back into the bar to drink more calimocho, as that's what situations like these call for.