If we are being 100% honest, we are not very good at spanish. We know some verbs, some limited vocabulary, and are fluent in charades. Our patience was really tested when we spent 3 hours speaking nothing but spanish with 2 Uruguayan girls and a french girl in Cabo Polonio.
After long walks to the sea lions, a brief stop at ‘El Templao,’ the smallest and most hilarious little trading post type store run by hippies, we sat down to drink Grappa and Wine with our dinner. We spoke of holidays, customs, family, traditions, indigenous peoples, and language barriers. After a few hours of this, being buffed by the wind and slight rain, I ventured forth a new topic, asking if our friends thought that there would ever be a universal language. I was so proud of myself, confident in my wine-spanish (which everyone knows feels way better than it sounds), and was listening intently for words that I recognized in the girls’ responses. I looked over at Dan, sitting tired and cold in the wind (I had since moved behind the barrier and was quite toasty), and I thought he was going to kill me. 3 minutes later, we bounced back to our moist, lumpy and sandy bed for a delightful night of uncomfortable sleep with naught but bread and cheese in our stomachs.