MISUNDERSTANDING PORTUGUESE #2

  

SOME HUMOROUS MISTAKES MADE IN PORTUGUESE

        Everyone makes mistakes with a foreign language, and of course, I was no different.
        The first morning I was in Rio, I requested two fried uvas (grapes) instead of ovos (eggs) for breakfast. The waiter heard the ‘uvas’ but politely said, “Two fried eggs for the senhorita.” He’d probably heard it before.

        In training, we had been told of the Brazilian soft drink Guarana. The flavor of Guarana might be described as a cross between ginger ale and apple juice. It is supposed to be a high-energy drink, which probably means it is loaded with sugar. When we stopped at a restaurant for a snack on one of our first days in the country, one of the other trainees ordered a Guanabara, which is the state in which Rio is located. That would be like visiting Denver and ordering a Colorado instead of a Coca Cola.

        When I was in Brazil, the three favorite flavors of ice cream in the area where I lived were avocado, prune, and coconut. The first two didn’t sound all that tasty to me, so I always chose coconut ice cream. The problem is that the Portuguese word for coconut is ‘coco’ which is quite similar to another Portuguese word which resulted in many a foreigner ordering shit ice cream.

        Americans have the habit of, when not understanding someone, saying “Huh?” In Brazil, an R at the beginning of a word is pronounced like an H and an à is pronounced sort of like a nasal ‘uh.’ Thus, when an American says “Huh?” in Brazil, it sounds like the Portuguese word ‘rã’ ---and the Brazilians wonder why americanos go around saying ‘frog?’ all the time.

        One Volunteer decribed an embarrassing language faux pas on the Peace Corps Brazil website.  After a full dinner with a Brazilian family, the male volunteer exclaimed, “Estou cheio.” Literally that means “I am full” but in reality the phrase is commonly used to say, “I am pregnant."
        The Brazilian hostess explained that it is more correct to say, "Estou satisfeito" or “I am satisfied.”
        The next evening after arriving home late the volunteer explained, "O omnibus estava satisfeito." (The bus was satisfied.)


My fellow PC Volunteer Gary, who served in Espirito Santo, sent me this story:

        “During my first three months in PC in Brazil, I was invited to dinner at a home of a large Brazilian family on the street where I lived. There were mom/dad, grandparents, seven children, aunts and uncles, etc. all at the house. My Portuguese was halting at best, but I wanted to be socialable and try to blend in to this lively family gathering. After finishing dinner and before leaving the table, I thanked my hosts and ---trying out a new Portuguese slang I had learned that week ---attempted to say that I would always look forward to 'shooting the breeze' with them (bater o papo) but instead I said "bater o papa". I could not understand the shocked stares and open mouths of the group after I had proudly tried my Portuguese-best. It was later explained to me that I had not said 'shoot the breeze/bate o papo' [literally ‘beat the talk’] but had actually told everyone how enjoyable it would be to 'bate o Papa'....or "beat the Pope" with them.”

        Que vergonha, nao e!!!

Gary also tells stories of learning Portuguese during Peace Corps Training. Unless you know both Portuguese and English, you might not understand these.

        One of the Brazilian language teachers told my PCV group that we could order orange juice anywhere in Brazil by just quickly saying "Lone Ranger...Lone Ranger....Lone Ranger!" 

        Likewise, we were told that a toasted cheese sandwich was just minutes away after requesting a "Miss You Ken Gee!"

        This same instructor from Rio Grande do Sul convinced us that getting an apple would be no problem if we said "My son" with a US southern accent. 

        Those mischevious Brazilian language instructors are probably still laughing at the crazy and naive norteamericanos.  Pois e gente!

(©2010, C.J. Peiffer)

MY MOTHER 3/18/1909 - 11/25/2009

My 95 year old mother had been on a waiting list for an assisted living facility for over 14 months. Meanwhile she had in-home help when I couldn't be there.

Her health and dementia had slowly worsened over the past five years, but she seemed to go down hill very swiftly in the last three months. Still, she could dress and feed herself. She took her medications, but someone had to put out the correct pills each day so she wouldn't take the wrong ones. Physically, she was frail, but had very little wrong with her.

Recently, she fell in her home between her daytime and night-time help. We thought she had a stroke because she was not walking and had no recollection of her fall. We took her to the emergency room where it was determined that she did not have a stroke. Although she had only minor physical injuries, they decided to keep her for observation. She was disorientated and very listless, and somewhat dehydrated. She knew she was in the hospital, but did not understand why.

Several days later, she seemed to be doing fairly well ---she was walking short distances with help, feeding herself and alert, although somewhat disoriented. However, her doctor recommended we place her in a nursing home for a month or so after leaving the hospital and we were looking into that possibility.

However, during the early hours of November 25th, the day before Thanksgiving, she died peacefully in her sleep.

My Aunt Jeanne, my mother's youngest sister, died the day before Thanksgiving in 2006. Their grandfather died the day before Thanksgiving in 1946. If I were a superstitious person, I might worry every time that holiday rolled around.

I've been out of touch because my mother seemed to be deteriorating so quickly. Then I was visiting the hospital and taking care of her home. Since her death I have been contacting everyone, arranging a memorial service, taking care of matters (bills, insurance, the will, etc.) helping my niece move into my mother's home, disposing of my mothers' belongings, and dealing with lawyers and probate.

My mother left written instructions that she wanted to be cremated with no viewing, which suited me fine. I have never liked funeral homes and avoid them whenever possible. She requested only a memorial service. Since there was to be no viewing, there was no rush for the service. I didn't want to do it over Thanksgiving weekend. The next week, the church was busy with a large meeting and several weddings. Also a good friend of my mother's was having a 100th birthday party that week and I didn't want to put a damper on that, so we scheduled the service for two weeks after her death.

My mother was not well-educated, but she was very smart and well-read. She had many talents. She was a caring person who was involved in a lot of volunteer work. Yet, she was not perfect and also had a dark side that many people never saw.

Probably, I will not be blogging until at least January. When I return, I will write about my mother's life on my other blog, Pro Artz.

PEACE CORPS 50th ANNIVERSARY REUNION

In 1961, John F. Kennedy believed so strongly in the idea of the Peace Corps that he used his discretionary funds to fund it instead of waiting for approval from Congress.

In 2011, the Peace Corps will celebrate its 50th anniversary.

If you served in the Peace Corps anywhere in the world during the past 50 years, record these dates and plan to attend the conference to be held in Washington DC to celebrate that milestone.

September 22-25, 2011

OPHIDIOPHOBIA - fear of snakes

This post is in response to a writing prompt at

MAMA'S LOSIN' IT

Writing prompt: "Scaredy Cat!!!"

OPHIDIOPHOBIA (according to Wikipedia) refers to the fear of snakes. It is one of the most common zoophobias (animal phobias). A typical ophidiophobic would not only fear them when in live contact but also dreads to think about them or even see them on TV or in pictures. Ophidiophobia is a characteristic of fictional adventurer Indiana Jones (and with good reason, I might add.)

I know others are afraid of other creepy-crawlies, but my only phobia is snakes. I acquired the fear from my grandmother who often told a story about a neighbor boy who threw a large black snake across the road at her when she was a young girl. The force of the throw made it wrap it self around her body, before falling to the ground. It was dead, but she didn’t know that when it was flying toward her.
I worked at a camp one summer in an area where there were timber rattlers. Counselors often walked from the main camp to our campsites at night. I was assured rattlers were not nocturnal so I wasn't worried. I usually had a flashlight with me, but occasionally walked without one if the moon were bright. After returning home from the camp at the end of the summer, I read an article about common myths ---and sure enough the myth that timber rattlers are not nocturnal is false. Even though it was months later, I almost fainted.
Once my first husband & I stopped to eat our lunch at a highway rest stop. On the way to a picnic table, I tramped on a snake and it curled over my almost-bare, sandaled foot. I screamed. It was harmless, but it still freaked me out. I went camping with friends, and on a hike, I went off the path to pee ---and there was a snake. It seemed that if there were a snake anywhere nearby, I was the one to run into it.

During my Peace Corp stint in Brazil, our house in Glória was at the edge of a town surrounded by hinterland. There was a pond nearby, so it attracted all kinds of animals, including reptiles. Several times a snake crawled into our house in the space (about an inch) under the door.
Brunie (my fellow volunteer) and I each had a footlocker which we shipped from home with clothing and other essentials. To prevent mildew, we placed each of them on four bricks (underneath the corners) to keep them from touching the mud-brick floor which was sometimes damp. The footlockers served as extra seating.

José Francisco (see photos of him and me, scroll down a little to find us both dressed in red, HERE) a man who worked for the Brazilian Legion of Assistance, was sitting on one of the footlockers when a snake slithered from underneath it, right between his feet. José Francisco ran from the room. I jumped onto a chair. Brunie and I screamed for our next-door neighbor and landlord. He came in and killed the snake and then pointed out its fangs and told us it was a poisonous variety.

In Peace Corps training, we were told that all poisonous snakes in Brazil were deadly. And the fact that the snake was nearly the exact color as our mud-brick floor scared me even more, because in other circumstances, one of us might have walked right up to it, or even stepped on it, without even noticing it was there.
I started to pack to go home, but then someone reminded me there wasn't a bus out of town for five days ---which gave me time to calm down ---sort of.

That was the first time we saw a snake in the house, but it was not the last. It got to the point that I would jump if I saw a thread on the floor. I had a bathrobe that had a tie at the waist which was sewn on across the back, but if not tied, the ends hung down at the side. Those ties would brush my leg and I would gasp in panic. One day, I just cut those suckers off so I wouldn’t be jumping every two minutes when I wore it around the house.

We had lots of other creepy things in our house in Brazil --toads, mice, roaches, tarantulas, bats, scorpions ---but nothing bothered me except the snakes.

What didn’t help was the word for snake in Portuguese is “cobra” and even though there were no King Cobras around, there were several varieties of highly poisonous snakes. In Peace Corps training, a fellow volunteer asked the question, “If a ______ snake bit you and you could instantly amputate your leg, would you die anyway?” The answer was “Yes.” I can’t remember, now, the variety he mentioned, but perhaps it was a bushmaster.

I once saw a dead coral snake on the street in Glória. We were assured that the coral snake wasn’t much of a threat because its jaw span was so small that it would almost have to gnaw at a little finger or toe to inject its venom. We were told they live in banana trees and not to stick our hands into one. So there was no way I was ever going to pluck a banana right from a tree. I always bought them from vendors at the weekly market. I am guessing the dead coral snake I saw was from a cart full of bananas, and that the snake had been crushed by a horse, cart, truck, or automobile.

My husband thinks I am ridiculously silly ---I can't look at a snake on TV, not even a drawing of one.

I had a very difficult time writing this ---even writing the word sn___ makes me crazy. And I couldn't look at photos of them for an illustration, so I did the best I could without actually drawing a sn___ !

Luckily, in my everyday life, I rarely see one, but my husband found a very small harmless one in our basement about a year ago. I wish he hadn't told me.

* * * * *

(Recent studies have theorised that humans may have an innate reaction to snakes, which was vital for the survival of humankind as it allowed such dangerous threats to be identified immediately.)

(©2009, C.J. Peiffer)