No matter how hard I try to blend in, people can tell I’m not from here.
If I’m standing with Brenda, people will speak to her in Spanish.
If Brenda is not around, they will either not speak to me, or try English.
Today we were walking home from the grocery store after church. Brandon and I walked a little faster and so Brenda and our daughter were lagging behind.
An American tourist approaches my wife and begins “Mi amor, estoy perdido” (my dear, I’m lost), and then shows Brenda the roomkey to the Marriott hotel. Brenda replied in english, gave directions and sent him along the way.
As we were one block ahead, an American gentleman sitting in his car hollers at me in English: “Do you know this area, I’m lost.” He too was looking for other Marriott hotel, and was flustered at Panama City’s one-way streets that sometimes switch one-way in the middle of the neighborhood.
One lost American speaks to my wife in Spanish.
Another lost American speaks to me in English.
On the same journey home.
Another reminder to me that I’m not from here.
Lindsay says
Bet this is hard, Chris.
Pastor Chris says
Nope, not hard.
Just an observation that we’ve been making during the weeks that we’ve been here.
And we thought it out of the ordinary that on the same walk home, two lost Americans ask the same question, but in different languages based on some worldview assumptions.
Chris