I ate too much and now I have an accent
Blog post description.
LIFE & STUFF
Esperanza Beltrán
7/13/20264 min read
¿Cuáles son tus síntomas? The doctor asked, opening up her A5 spiral notebook and holding a black pen in her right hand. She was young and had long, thin fingers with pretty gel nails that were about two weeks old. I have found myself feeling jealous of hands and fingers lately. Not long after chemo, I developed nail fungus after getting my nails done. It's been a long road trying to get rid of it. I've become more appreciative of the small body parts that I had taken for granted. So, I couldn't help but notice these details as I watched this young doctor handwrite my answers to her questions.
—¿Qué fue lo último que comió? A piece of toast and a cup of tea were the last things I had managed to eat, I said.
—¿Ha comido con mucha gente? Yes, definitely, I'd been eating around many people. It's Mexico, and we've been visiting family, of course.
—¿Ha tenido contacto con animales? Yep. On this trip, we met our newest addition to the family–Mariposa. She's a 1-year-old quarter horse mare, and we've been loving petting her.
––¿De donde no visita? she asked, inserting her cute panda bear thermometer in my underarm.
"De Los Angeles," I said proudly.
—Sí, me imaginé. Tiene una pronunciación diferente, she said.
My pride slipped through the spaces between her words. How could she say that?! Spanish was my first language, and I still speak it every day. Furthermore, I've always made it a point to write and pronounce its words as correctly as possible, as any lover of words does. And I've been practicing reading and writing more in Spanish. With all that being said, how could she say I pronounce differently?!
"O si? En qué se nota?" I asked as nonchalantly as I could, smiling through both my amusement and embarrassment.
I think I've equated a U.S. accent with youth, believing it was something we grew out of, and that, as we got older, our Spanish would sound more like our parents' Spanish–more adult-like, and that when we visited their birth country, it would seamlessly blend in with everyone else's. I thought I would eventually be seen as one of their own.
—No sé. Habla diferente. Tiene un acento.
Aaah! Imagine a telenovela girl holding her hand to her chest, mouth wide open, with a disgusted face, appalled at such a statement. "Well!" she says, removing the cute panda thermometer from her armpit and slamming it on the young doctor's metal desk. She grabs her purse, which she purchased at TJ Maxx just for this trip, and walks out the door, saying, "Discúlpeme, doctorcita, pero yo vine para una revisión médica, no para que analice mi manera de hablar, y no pienso pagarle ni un solo peso para que me insulte de esa manera," before slamming the door behind her.
"Oh si?," I said again, trying my hardest not to round out the O, but to sharpen the cut, almost into a C. Sitting still on the plastic folding chair, I said, "que chistoso," before redirecting the conversation to the more pressing matter of my health: nausea, diarrhea, constipation, stomach ache, acid reflux, headache, chills, and the accent of a U.S.-born Mexican.
"Es una infección?" I asked. "Was it something I caught?"
—No, no es infección. Usted tiene dispepsia. Al comer demasiado, como me platica, no le dio tiempo a su cuerpo para digerir. Esto es lo que le está causando sus síntomas: náusea, diarrea y demás.
"Does this mean I have not matured? Shouldn't I have lost my U.S. accent by now?
—Por supuesto que no. Simplemente, usted no está acostumbrada a comer la comida de la región; ha comido más de lo habitual y, además, ha tenido contacto con animales, a lo cual, me imagino, su cuerpo no está acostumbrado. Sus síntomas son normales.
"Should I try harder to improve my pronunciation?"
—No. Solo necesita comer ligero, como pollito asado con verduras y frutas. Caminar le ayudaría mucho también. Pero también le voy a recetar unos medicamentos para ayudarle con los síntomas.
"Okay. Gracias. Entonces, me está diciendo que debo aceptar que este es el acento que tengo y que no tiene nada de malo? Me va a tomar un poco de tiempo, lo admito, pero trabajaré en esto.
I walked out of that small concrete clinic attached to the right of the pharmacy, both of which are part of the small shopping center encircling the corner Pemex gas station, feeling both surprised and confused by my newfound accent. How come nobody had ever told me? The sky was clear despite the rainy season, and the street was loud with cars passing and people talking.
Here I am back home now, just two days in, and I've already signed up for a class taught by a UNAM professor–in Spanish.
"You're not gonna get rid of your accent," my daughter kindly laughed at my news about deciding to take a class.
I laughed too. "It's not because of that," I said. "It's a Mexican history class."
It's true, I'm not taking the class because of my accent, but if in the process it changes, well then, that'll just have been collateral damage metamorphosis. 🤷♀️ Así es la vida.
Do you know if you have a U.S.-Mexican accent? How do you feel about it? Let me know in the comments; I'd love to know!
¡Hasta la próxima!
Time to start my new class: El águila, el nopal y ¿la serpiente? by a UNAM professor, Noemí Cruz Cortéz. How exciting!