When I first got to Mexico 10 months ago, I felt jumpy and anxious almost every time I tried to speak Spanish. A fearful voice would pipe up in my head: What if no one understands me? What if I sound like an idiot? I look Mexican, but my accent blows. They’re going to think I’m a pocha. Maybe… I really am a pocha.
The more I talked, the more that feeling lessened. I dealt with the gas company when our meter broke. I ordered dozens of taxis, and requested an ATM card over the phone, and went to the dentist and the doctor. I bought chicken and beef from various mercados, and instructed them on whether I wanted it in filets, ground, deboned. I began to ask the people in the grocery stores for help when I couldn’t find an item, like the elusive cilantro.
A few days ago I was chatting with my Venezuelan-born friend Daniela. She mentioned how, despite living in the U.S. for years, she still doesn’t feel fluent in English, but she no longer cares about messing up. I realized: That’s me, too. I throw out words with abandon, sometimes without really knowing whether I’m correct or not. Maybe I’ll phrase the iffy word as a question — “Éstas pantalones parecen demasiado… apretadas…?” — or maybe not. The point is, I’m confident. I know I’ll eventually get understood. And if someone looks at me strange, I smile and start over. I know, in my heart, that not one bit of me is a pocha. I hate that word.
It’s funny, because this week at the FIL in Guadalajara, I’ve been hanging out with a bunch of American writers who don’t speak much Spanish at all. Yesterday we went to dinner and I was the translator. The translator! Not just for the food, but for cultural issues, such as how much to tip a taxi, why the check was taking so long, etc.
“So how did you learn Spanish?” a few people asked me. The question struck me as odd, because I thought it was obvious that I was still learning. But then I realized that I knew way more than them, and actually, maybe I knew quite a lot.
It’s weird, because part of me doesn’t even want to accept that this is happening. I’m in disbelief. Are my Spanish skills really good? Is it really true? The deeper issue here, for those of you who don’t know me very well, is my complicated history with Spanish. I never cared much about it until I got to college, and then suddenly I felt guilty and angry and sad that I never tried to learn.
The rational side of me is over the moon that my Spanish has improved so much. But emotionally I still can’t admit it to myself. Maybe I’m just being a perfectionist. Or maybe I’m still clinging to this fear that I’m never going to speak Spanish well, because I’m not Mexican.
Truly, I still have a lot to learn. I can’t think quickly on my feet in Spanish, or express every sentiment I’d like to. But I am happy with how much I’ve accomplished so far. I have carved out a normal, fulfilling life for myself here, based almost entirely on my language abilities.
I can at least admit that to myself.
Congratulations! Another thing that I think throws people off is when a foreigner has good pronunciation in Spanish. While I am at best at an intermediate level w/Spanish, I have a knack for pronouncing it correctly. This is often misleading because I may start a conversations perfectly, but as I go on, my lack of grammar and vocabulary show through what the good pronunciation had hidden. I hope to keep learning, glad you are doing so well with Spanish 🙂
I have the opposite problem. I look American, my grandfather was from Minnesota but, I jave a very thick Spanish accent.
Oh well..
A close friend has german parents, speaks german fluently and looks german, but he is 100% mexican. Basically, this means even though his german speaking skills (accent, grammar) seem to be perfect to the unsuspecting spectator, he doesn’t master the last bit of vocabulary with the necessary speed to match a complex conversation with a german citizen. Also, some of his vocabulary is a bit outdated, because a long time has passed since his relatives left Germany. So the funny thing is, when he visits Germany most people assume he’s just another regular german because he looks and speaks like one, but when engaged in longer more complex conversations they think he’s a retard because it takes him a bit longer than usual to come up with some words and because of his odd outdated vocabulary. 🙂
Yeah for you. I also am able finally to communicate my needs and often times walk away from a conversation baffled that I understood everything that just happened. Like you sad though I still have a lot to learn. I find now when I get to a word I dont know Im even more frustrated that I dont know it.
Good for you! I’ve come to find that confidence when speaking a foreign language is half the battle. Just spit the words out and the more you do that, the more you’ll realize you’ve instinctually chosen the right words.
And here’s a cute song that might make you feel better about the word “pocha” (or in the song, “mi pochita”) … 🙂
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HZvTSstoUQg
Thanks for your post! I’m desperately trying to learn Spanish myself, and it can be quite daunting at times. Your post give me some hope! 🙂
Lesley – congrats on your Spanish language improvement. It’s a real compliment when friends ask you to translate for them. I definitely recommend people interested in learning Spanish to travel to a Spanish-speaking country, take an immersion course, and really improve their skills and understanding of the country. Tim
You know I struggled with the label: ‘Pocha’, when I was younger. I was born in LA and moved to Colima when I was 6, back to the US by 11 years of age. I loathed the word. It was as if someone was slowly digging a dagger deep into my heart when I heard it… Somewhere between my teenage years and early 20s I changed my mind on the word. I decided to reclaim it. I actually do not understand the word as described in the definition link you posted. I am fully bilingual. I made every effort to not have one bit of an accent in both languages while most of my siblings didn’t really care, I did. I wanted desperately to blend in both places. To not be looked upon as less in either because of my accent… However, not having an accent does not make others not use the word or refer to one as a Pocha. I remember when I first came to Oaxaca to work in small town in the Mixteca, the women would ask where I was from. I could have easily said I was from some northern state, but I decided to just speak the truth. A woman with the pain of having seen all of her children migrate loudly said SO YOU ARE A POCHA! I turned around and proudly responded Yes! Yes I am, and proud of it too…
Susy: Lovely story. I like the idea of reclaiming the word “pocha,” but I’m not entirely sure how to do it, probably because I still feel a teensy bit ashamed of my Spanish. I know there’s nothing wrong with not being 100 percent fluent — at least, my brain does anyway. Gotta keep convincing my heart.
I have been living in Spain for over 10 years now and to begin with it was very difficult for me to understand Spanish let alone speak it! my main difficulty came when in a group of people with lots of conversations going on, everyone speaking so fast at the same time. But I found if you make an effort to speak even if it’s not perfect you’ll find that people will be impressed with you for making an effort your confidence will grow day by day.
Hi Lesley! Just discovered your blog and love it. I relate 100% – My mother is 1st generation Mexican, from Texas/New Mexico, but had such a traumatic experience growing up in Texas in the ’50s (punished for speaking Spanish in school) that she never bothered to teach us Spanish (I have two brothers), she said it didn’t feel natural to her. So I’ve long struggled with my Chicana identity, and have felt all the loaded issues with studying Spanish later in life (college for me, too!) Eventually, when I was in college, I decided to spend some time in D.F. with some long-lost family. This was over 10 years ago. Though I was only there a short time, I am amazed to look back at my journals from that time period — written in Spanish! Of course, I’ve largely lost most of that language skill, but I’ve been considering going back to D.F. try to learn again.
Anyway, your blog is inspiring and informative. Glad to have found it!
Hi Renata: I’m glad you found me. I know there’s so many of us with this same exact issue, but we don’t necessarily read about it much anywhere. The fact that this resonated with you means a lot to me.
You should come back to DF! It’s actually fairly easy here to rent a furnished apartment for one or two months at a time. (Or find a roommate to live with for the same amount of time.) If you ever want more info on logistics of such a move, give me a shout. I’m happy to help.
Suzy, I enjoyed your post very much. I too am 3rd generation Chicano and came across “pocho” at an early age,at first I viewed the word as a put down,but as I grew older discovered there was envy behind that word. We have the capability of understanding both languages and with practice can speak or decifer what is being asked of us.So I hope you continue your adventure of dicovery into who you are and of course Viva La Raza !!!
Sorry Lesley, I posted my comment to another posters comment, I do want to tell you that my children are also addressed as Mijo and Mija and I hope they continue the tradition when they have children. My daughter gets married this November, so come on grandkids : )