Adventures in Spanish Language:

When a room wasn't clean at check in, and no interpreter in sight, I bravely ventured down to the desk to sort it out. I figured all the words out using my phrase book, and got 6 seconds into my sentence before the concierge, who spoke a little English, demanded that I switch to English and hurry up. Deflated, I went back upstairs, searching for "well you can keep your stupid language and I'll just wait for all of Spain to learn English then" in my book.

When someone speaks in halting English in Canada, we speak back clearly and slowly to them. Spaniards are apparently bound by no such convention. After failing to explain the concept of a wet towel to the maid, she came back in the room and, I think, recited the first 3 chapters of Don Quixote to me. Shrugging my shoulders, I replied with a helpless "no habla espanol". Undeterred, she proceeded to finish the book. Sensing an opportunity for a real cross-cultural exchange, I replied with a confident "si!" and closed the door. I assume whatever she needed got done by someone else.