My Language is What I Miscommunicate With

Do you know what you call someone who knows three languages? "Trilingual." Do you know what you call someone who knows two languages? "Bilingual." Do you know what you call someone who knows only one language? "An American."

Take me, for example. My Facebook page asks me to list the languages I know. So far, I have left the answer blank. If I was honest, I would have to write, "I know English, usually. I also know enough of four other languages to make a complete fool of myself."

The language that I know least badly, in addition to English, is Spanish. I had a good reason to learn Spanish 22 years ago. My wife and I lived in Spanish-speaking Honduras for six months while doing mission work. In preparation, I learned as much Spanish vocabulary as I could. I memorized the Spanish words for "giraffe," "igloo," and "pagoda." As it turned out, these words had somewhat limited usefulness in a Central American country.



I wonder if these West African women could understand my Spanish?



Nevertheless, I plunged ahead with my Spanish learning and speaking in Honduras. I learned a rare dialect of Spanish, so rare in fact, that I was the only person in the world who could speak it or understand it. A highlight came when I was curious about what the Honduran people called the constellations. One night I looked and pointed up and asked a Honduran man, "What is the name of the stars?" I made a little mistake. Instead of asking the name, "nombre," of the stars, I asked him for the number, "numbre," of the stars. Despite this little slip-up, the man was impressed with my question because he said I was a "loco gringo." Another Honduran told me this was an expression of praise and respect.

Now I find myself in a nursing home because I have ALS (Lou Gehrig's disease). The staff who serves me includes people from Mexico, Sweden, Colombia, and Polynesia. I feel like I live in the United Nations building! They take good care of me, so I want to thank them. I am a little rusty (completely ignorant) of Swedish and the Polynesian languages, but I have seized the opportunity to impress my Spanish-speaking caregivers with my knowledge of their language.

Not long ago, I wanted to thank my Mexican CNA for her excellent care of me. She gets me up and out of bed, dresses me, shaves me, brushes my teeth, and puts me in front of my computer. We have worked out a routine that goes smoothly. Although she knows English well, I thought it would be fun to thank her in Spanish. This is what I intended to write: "Thank you for everything. I am sorry, my Spanish is not good. I am embarrassed." This is what I actually wrote: "Thank you for Toto (the dog in The Wizard of Oz). I am sorry, my Spanish is not wealthy. I am pregnant."

Maybe I should stick with English. After all, I know it the goodest.

Thank You Party

  Friends and family have helped me so much over the past four-and-a-half years of my bout with ALS. When an opportunity presented itself to thank them with a party, I grabbed it. My great CNA and adoptive mother Miriam offerred to prepare the food. She did a wonderful job, as you can see.

  Around 80 people came to the party, including my friends Jill and John. Jill was a social worker with the first hospice I served as chaplain. Friends from East Tennessee, Charlotte, Asheville, and Raleigh joined my friends from Hendersonville, North Carolina. Rob and Kelly Tison joined us. He also has ALS. Sue Humphries of the Jim "Catfish" Hunter (NC) Chapter of the ALS Association came. She is working on starting an ALS Clinic in Asheville.

  My daughters, Catherine and Emma, came to the party. I made a couple of "speeches" with my portable computer thanking my friends and then Miriam for her help and love for me the past two years. I projected my computer screen onto a large screen on the wall. The crowd was able to see what I was writing. Then Emma and Catherine did their own presentation to thank the people who had helped me.

 Garry Smith and Roger Bailey provided music from The Great American Songbook. They are in the back of the picture. In front are Catherine and her boyfriend Andrew and Emma and her boyfriend Ian dancing to music that was written at least thirty years before they were born.

 It was a great, fun party. From left to right in the picture are Andrew Hayes, Catherine Swift, Tom Swift, Emma Swift, and Ian Lee.