the hot goddess

Midlife Mix-ups in Portugal

While 4/20, or weed day, was not a big deal here, two recent public holidays within a week are high on the recognition list in Portugal. Other upcoming observances, though not public holidays, include Mothers Day on May 3 — a week earlier than in the U.S. — and World Portuguese Language Day May 5.

Today, May 1, is the Labor Day holiday here. April 25 was the Freedom Day holiday, celebrating the Carnation Revolution of 1974 that brought an end to 40 years of dictatorship. That reminds me of my own revolution in the labor of language learning.

Wait. Not revolution. Revulsion? Revision? Or is it realization? Some R word that has more than 2 syllables and ends in the “un” sound.

I’ve paused my made-up words monthly posts on THG because I am mixing up and making up Portuguese words every day and getting myself all conveyed. Confiscated. Confusioned. Conflused. You know what I’m trying to say… oh, right, that’s when I can use the convey word.

This video, shared with me from Instagram, perfectly sums up my struggle with speaking foreign languages.

I so relate to this. In both my Portuguese and in my German lessons. “Ich liebe dich” sounds like “Ick lick dick” when I say it into my pronunciation recorder. Yeah, sure, this is a phrase I’ve been known to utter in English, but, an ass (or is it “alas?”), that gets me no points here. Just delusion. Division. Derision.

Nein. Não. Nope.
Ich bin nicht. I am not.

To make things even more obfuscated…confiscated…no, complicated…oh, yeah, also obfuscated…my German boyfriend lived in Canada for many years and will mix these strange British sayings into conversations. Gimme a break, meu amor. “Bob’s your uncle.” Huh? No, he’s not. Bob was my dad. This utterly confusing phrase had me so mixed up. GB uses it when he means something is easy and done. I think. Then there’s “tickety-boo,” which indicates something is satisfactory or A-OK. Because GB is German and not a native English-speaker, though, he says “kickety-boo.” I just love this! I further the mix-up by saying “lickety-boo,” since, well, Ick lick dick.

It’s clear I have a speaking dismotility. Disutility? Disability. Well, actually, folks who know me will tell you I have a shutting-up disability. And “cala-te” (or “cala-se” if you’re being formal… but why??) is how you say “shut up” in Portuguese. A handy phrase if you know me. But that’s only when I’m speaking English. In Portuguese, while I can read and write kinda sorta OK at a B1-ish level, I conceal…congeal…freeze! Freeze! I freeze when I have to talk in a convolution. Conversion. Conversation? Yeah, that.

Source: Unknown but brittle. No…hold on…brilliant! Yeah. Brilliant.
In my head, I’m always thinking in Portuguese, even when I’m supposed to be thinking in English. I need to find the Portuguese version of the NYT’s Spelling Bee game now that I’ve already found Wordle options here.

You’d never know I’m continuing to learn new words and phrases in Portuguese. Especially sassy ones, such as “meter onde não e chamado,” which means to butt in where you’re not wanted or to stick your nose in somebody else’s business. Another phrase with Natalie applications. Multi-lingual applications. Pois.

You’d never know by listening to me speak because I still, after almost four years, sound like a caveman burping out sentence fragments. Sometimes in multiple mixed-up languages. “Ich gostar de cafe mit leite, bitte.” A German-Portuguese hybrid that translates as “I to like of coffee with milk, please.”

The only time I’m fluent when speaking in Portuguese is when I’m talking about vinho. Wine. Last week, non-English-speaking Portuguese workers were at my home to begin repairing damage from bomb cyclone Kristin. It wasn’t even 10AM, and I was getting jubilant high-fives during a spirited discussion of my preference for vinho tinto de Alentejo. Same thing during an exchange about red wine from the Alentejo region with a Portuguese guy at a weekend salsa workshop. Apparently, wine is everybody’s business here, and I remember all words when talking about vinho. No convoluted conversations or mixed-up words then. It’s all kickety-boo. Bob’s my tio then. Go figure.

Cheers! Saúde!

Feeling a lil’ cocky  lickety-boo impressed with myself after four hours of Portuguese conversation in a non-English-speaking Brazilian hair salon. Butting in and nose-sticking into the business of others is a universal hair salon activity in every language.

Thank you for reading ❤️! May any mix-ups this weekend be small and bring a smile.

All images are my own.

The Hot Goddess

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16 comments

  7. Ooh my, the struggle is real. If I were you, every time I messed up, I would stop and make it a point of reminding everyone that I’m an American. I blame our crazy culture for not forcing us to learn better language skills as kids. It’s so much harder now . . . and I’m an utter mess when I try to speak Spanish or other language for that matter. “Yup, there goes Brian, the ugly American. He can barely speak English, forget about trying to speak Spanish, French, Italian, German, etc., etc.” Ha, ha. Saying all that, I do like that you’re learning some cool sassy phrases. The next time one of my kids teases me, I coming back with: “meter onde não e chamado.” Take that. Ha, ha. Thanks for the laughs.

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