Today, a fellow blogger from Belize, Tacogirl, contacted me to ask me if I might be able to suggest a clinic/hospital she could visit. She is planning to come to the blogger conference on Isla Mujeres this coming Friday and thought that if the hours were convenient, she could drop by the clinic in Playa del Carmen on her way to Cancun to catch the ferry to Isla Mujeres (whew! Her travel itinerary from Belize exhausts me!).
I’m familiar with the doctors and location of the local Hyperbaric Chamber/Hospital, and I highly recommend their services. Since hours of operation can be tricky in Mexico (often businesses will be closed midday for comida/siesta), I offered to call to confirm the hospital’s hours so that Tacogirl would be able to plan her schedule accordingly.
The phone conversation I had with the front desk receptionist, while amusing, was not unusual. Here it is in its entirety, roughly translated from the Spanish:
Me: Good morning, I am just calling to ask what your hours of operation are, can you help me?
Him: I’m sorry?
Me: I would like to know what the operating hours of the hospital are.
Him: Um, what?
Me (searching for another way to say what I thought I’d already said clearly): Um, I’d like to know the hours of operation, when the doctor is there to see patients.
Him: Well, the doctor, he is not here now, but he will be back at 2 pm.
Me: I’m sorry, no, what I mean is, when do you open in the morning?
Him: Oh yes, we are open in the morning.
Me: Ok, great, you are open in the morning, but until what time are you open?
Him: We are open from the morning until 3 pm.
Me: Ah, so you are only open from the morning until 3 pm?
Him: Oh, no, señora, we have afternoon hours, too.
Me: Ok, thank you. Can you tell me, what time are your afternoon hours?
Him: From 3 pm until 11 o’clock at night.
Me: Oh. So. Wait a second. So you are open from the morning until 3 pm, then you are also open from 3 pm until 11 o’clock in the night, correct?
Him: Yes, Señora.
Me: So, to clarify, you are open from the morning until 11 o’clock in the night?
Him: Yes.
Me: Thank you very much for your help.
Him: You are very welcome, it was my pleasure.
While I was initially frustrated and amused by what at first appeared to be his seeming obtuseness, this turned out to be another case of my imperfect Spanish and coarse US manners causing trouble in a routine situation.
While recounting this story to my trusty (and incredibly patient and tenacious) assistant, Jorge Roberto, he said, “Tell me how you asked for the hospital hours.”
When I told him that I used the phrase “horas de operacion,” he kind of smirked and said, “That was a problem. He thought you were asking him about a surgery, an operation. You should have said ‘las horas de servicios’.”
Well, well, well, mira el huevo on mi cara.
I’m sure it’s just paranoia, but whenever I had to make a similar type of phone call, I always figured they were just messing with me. But then again it took me 8 months to order a pizza delivery.
By: Joyce on April 16, 2008
at 7:06 am
Hi, I’m new to your blog, and was quite amused by this post. It’s an all-too-familiar story for someone with “imperfect Spanish” (you and I both
) I had a similar experience speaking with a doctor in Spain, and we were basically going back and forth for a while clarifying what the other had said in order to proceed with the conversation. Not only does experiences like these give you a good story to tell to friends and family, but you learn more about the language afterward — so while embarassing initially, it’s actually quite rewarding and enriching in the end.
Que tengas un lindo dia!
By: Jeffrey on April 16, 2008
at 8:15 am
Joyce, I remember when the idea of ordering a pizza terrified me. Now I am a masterful pizza-orderer. Priorities, priorities.
Jeffrey, you’re right, of course. The thing is, I make so many of these mistakes that it really doesn’t even embarrass me anymore. The only time I’ve been REALLY embarrassed was when I accidentally substituted the word “culo” for “cola” in a conversation with my friend’s conservative mom. I wanted to DIE.
By: heatherinparadise on April 16, 2008
at 9:20 am
I knew where the conversation was headed from your first inquiry regarding “hours of operation.”
‘Cause I’m so smart.
By: James A. on April 16, 2008
at 11:51 am
So is that an implication that I am NOT smart, James A.? Hmm? Hmm? Answer carefully.
By: heatherinparadise on April 16, 2008
at 12:13 pm
I applaud that you made it through! Now scrape off the egg and move on…
By: charmarie221 on April 16, 2008
at 1:23 pm
No, no…it was just that you were so terribly distracted by your insatiable burning desire to help your fellow-(wo)man, that you simply missed it. I heard that it happened a lot to Mother Teresa, too.
And Prince.
By: James A. on April 16, 2008
at 2:35 pm
Good answer.
By: heatherinparadise on April 16, 2008
at 2:43 pm
‘egg on your face’ or no, that’s the kind of story I want to hear from you (along with the self-recrimination and the childhood exposes).
I want to know all I can.
Love, Jer
By: Jerry on April 17, 2008
at 12:21 am
See you soon feeling much better today.
By: tacogirl on April 18, 2008
at 6:05 am
hahaha!! Oh my gosh do I have my own share of “teléfono arabe” situations when it comes to language misunderstandings…
But hey, at least you got the info you were looking for. I’ve had times when the person speaking to me has the impression that I’ve understood completely their instructinos and happily hangs up the phone leaving me with a big question mark on my face (and a huge “L” for loser on my forhead too).
Fned.
By: Fned on April 18, 2008
at 7:26 am
Hey Heather!
I love your blog, had to comment about your phone conversation.
Whenever there’s something I need to know for a map we’re doing Perry will “annoyingly” say “just call them” and I about have a panic attack!
By: Laura on April 18, 2008
at 9:15 am
Wow! A blogger’s convention. Sounds like fun. Please let us know what blogging ideas you get to make our blogs better.
By: Ashley Ladd on April 19, 2008
at 5:57 pm
Oh Man… I hate when I am asking for something and I think I’m doing a really good job and then they bring me the totally wrong thing. Just makes me feel like a big loser. Ahhh, the joys of communicating in a foreign tongue.
By: mexpat on April 21, 2008
at 9:31 am