Cognates Are Our Friends

I spent a couple of hours in the Post Office yesterday filling out forms to ship 7 big ol' care packages that my company's charitable foundation assembled for troops in Afghanistan and Kazikstan. It was kind of a pain to fill out that much paperwork, but I'm glad I was there--and not just because the people who get the packages will be really happy to receive them.

Actually, the main reason I was glad I was there is because I got to help someone by using my (limited) Spanish--it was as close to an adventure as I get anymore. This lady came into the Post Office and asked some questions in Spanish, but the postal worker couldn't understand her--I was concentrating on my forms and didn't notice the exchange, but the guy at the desk asked me as she was leaving if I happened to speak Spanish.

Now, I took two years in high school and two in college, but only really learned anything during the first year because of various teacher-related reasons. This means the last time I spoke any Spanish was in 1995, and the last time I spoke it well was during my Freshman year of High School (1990)--yes, I'm old. Most of you were still in Kindergarten back then, yes, yes, I've heard it before. Anyway, I figured I would at least try, and maybe my attempts would be better than nothing. I called her back to the main lobby with a "Tienes un pregunta?" (You have a question?) At least I think that's what it means...Lisa can straighten me out if she's reading this.

It turns out that I only had to use maybe three vocabulary words in the entire conversation--"ropa/clothes" and "caja/box" and "escriba/write". The rest of the words we used in our conversation (along with a fair amount of pointing and head shaking/nodding) were cognates (words that sound or look similar in both languages) like "necesita" or "empacar" or "permita" or "en me carro" or "papel" (forgive my spelling, like I said, it's been over a decade). I admit I had to have her write the phrase with the word empacar, because I couldn't understand what word she was using since she spoke sort of quickly and the words were running together in my ears--but as soon as she wrote it, I figured out what she meant. (She wanted to know if she could buy a box and pack it in the lobby with the clothes she had in her car to send a gift to her sister in Florida. And since I was there to help, she also asked how long it would take to send some documents to Colombia.) It wasn't all pretty, but I was really proud of myself for functioning that well on the fly, especially since the only Spanish I've spoken in over 10 years has consisted of telling a server at El Tapatio "Menos cebollas (sp?), menos lechuga, por favor" (no onions, no lettuce, please).

Thank goodness for cognates--they're the best thing about Latin-based languages, and they're mighty handy for functioning in German-speaking countries, too.

I feel so flushed with my victory over a foreign language, I might have to start playing with my Beginning French CDs or something. Before I die, I want to be able to claim (truthfully) that I speak seven languages. I fully admit it's a pride thing as much as anything--everyone thinks that people who speak seven languages are smart. I've got English down pat. I think my Spanish is in pretty good shape for the moment. I could brush up on my German if Tabitha Jane would pack me in her suitcase when she goes to The Continent. I can read my Ancient Greek Bible with a pretty decent comprehension rate. That's four. I'm learning lots of handy phrases from my Italian Phrase-of-the-Day Calendar. (Today's is particularly useful: Sono comode quelle scarpe? "Are those shoes comfortable?" (No, comode is not a congnate for "toilet" in this instance. Punks.) I've got my French lessons loaded to my computer. That's six. What should I choose for the seventh?