Call me avocado!

“They’re laughing at me, aren’t they. They’re totally laughing at me.”

I glanced back down the stalls of the market. “No…” I said dubiously. I looked again. “Well, yeah. They’re kind of laughing at you.”

The day before, Megan had visited this same produce market by herself, and had giddily purchased the first good food we’d seen in days. Faced with a stack of perfectly ripe avacados, she turned to ask the vendors what they were called in Spanish. Drawing a blank on the simple sentence “What is this called?” she nonetheless remembered that the phrase for “What is your name?” – como se llama – translates as “what are you called?” So she started through running variations in her head, seeking the appropriate one for the avocado.

Unfortunately, at that moment the filter between her brain and her mouth ceased to work, and she began verbalizing everything that came into her head. Pointing to the avocado, she rattled off questions to the vendors: “How is this called? What you call this? This calls itself what? This is me – how am I called?”

Stifling a laugh, one vendor relieved her misery and gave her the word: palta. Yet still, one part of Megan’s brain watched in horror as another part continued to give voice to everything that ran through her head.

“Avacado. This is called avocado. Avacado it is. This is me – call me avocado!”

At this point the vendors collapsed in helpless laughter and begged her – oh, please, senora, do that again.

And so, the next day, when we went back – she was recognized, and continued to bring mirth to the food vendors of Mendoza.

Now, let me just say that I have Megan’s permission to tell this story – indeed, she revels in telling it herself and can still reduce me to tears simply by saying “Call me avocado!” I must also confess that I’ve had my fair share of malapropisms on this trip. A few of our favorites:

(To a park ranger, while pointing to a downward flight of stairs): "May we go up?"
(To the masseuse): "I have more tension in my right leg because my right foot was previously married."
(To a bus ticket-taker): "How do we indicate to the bus driver that we wish to get off? Do we tell him, or is there a…ding-ding?"
And, Megan’s personal favorite:
(To a hotel clerk): "May we drink a bottle of wine in the room where the economic development happens?"