I have had mixed results speaking Spanish on my trip to Antigua, Guatemala.
Last night at dinner I was trying to tell the waiter we needed more time with our menus. I patted our table and said, “Por favor, leave them right here.” His puzzled look was my first indication of how lame that sounded. The laughter from my group was the second. He did leave the menus, though–he was probably afraid to be too near this crazy gringa.
Just a few minutes ago a few of us returned to our accommodations and after calling Studly to beg for money I retreated to my room for a nap.
It didn’t take me long to peel out of my sweaty clothes to bask au naturale on my bed. I’d just closed my eyes when I realized the gardener was standing just outside the very open window. I’m pretty sure my “oops!” translated into Spanish flawlessly.
Praying for Eyebrowz 