5- Speaking Spanish

This is post #5 of our story. If you haven't read the others, start with #1 and read the posts in order.

A couple days after the first interview (a.k.a. date) I called Marcos to set up the next one. I had learned a lot about this kid during our first interview, but I had to meet with him three times for my paper. We set up a time and decided we would meet at his house and do the interview there. I cannot begin to describe how nervous I was. It was so much more than just a paper now - and I didn't want to mess it up. I worked up the courage to knock on the door and he answered again. Instead of opening the door to let me in, he walked out onto the porch and closed the door behind him. "My friend just got here from Argentina. He's enrolling at Weber State in the Fall, but he doesn't speak much English. I was thinking he might be able to answer some questions for your paper as well. I hope that's okay. It would be kind of rude to speak in English the whole time since his language skills are limited. Would you mind conducting the interview in Spanish?" Gulp. My stomach dropped, my throat tightened, and I pinched myself to make sure it wasn't just a bad dream. I was TOTALLY FREAKING OUT! I understand almost everything in Spanish and speak it fairly well, but my experience actually speaking with non-English speakers was pretty much all gained in the one month I spent in Costa Rica. That's where it finally clicked for me, but it still made me nervous. I would normally prepare a little before conducting an interview in Spanish. Crap! I would have to translate all my questions as I went along and then pray I really did understand what the two of them were telling me. Let's just say that the focus of being nervous about having a crush on the kid totally shifted. I was now completely focused on the interview itself. Marcos had asked me to speak to him in Spanish before and I had refused. His English is perfect so I knew my "second language" would fall short and I didn't want to make a fool of myself. Now I HAD to speak Spanish with him and some total stranger. To say I was uncomfortable, would've been the understatement of the century.

I can't tell you what I said or how it went. Somehow I got through it. At the end of the interview, I thanked Israel for helping me and let Marcos walk me out to my car. He had a grin from ear to ear. I guess he was pleased with the interview. He complimented me on my Spanish and thanked me for being so polite and willing to adapt to the situation. Then he gave me a hug that eased my discomfort. It was a nice, long, I-really-care-about-you hug. My heart melted. He opened my door, helped me into the car, shut the door and stepped onto the curb. As I was flipping the car around, he motioned for me to roll down my window. I thought he was going to say something charming for me to smile about the whole way home. Instead his friend poked his head out the door and said, "Thanks for the interview. I really enjoyed meeting you. By the way, your Spanish is great." Marcos laughed and waved as I drove away. Are you freaking kidding me? This kid just tricked me into speaking Spanish. Why I oughtta... I didn't know what to think. I was so mad, but had to give him props for coming up with a plan to get me to cave. Maybe I was able to see past what a snake he had been because I was still in 'he's so cute, I really like him' mode. Who knows?

I don't remember a third interview. I'm guessing I decided that not only did I have enough information for a paper, but I wasn't sure I could handle much more embarrassment at this point.