If it’s true that you really know a language when you can conduct an argument in it, then my Spanish is almost there!

Today was one of those days in Recoleta when none, and I mean none, of the bank machines was giving out any money. It happens relatively often, and although a couple of years ago this used to freak me out, now I know it’s just the way it is. After trying about four banks with no result,  I happened to see one of the employees at another bank and I asked him when the machines would open again. He said an hour and a half, so that was fine. I knew I’d get money then.

That wasn’t the problem though. In one of the banks, the machine swallowed my debit card and then shut down, and wouldn’t give it back. I knocked on the door of the bank proper, and a very “important” security guy told me the bank was closed. This is how it went:

Him: The bank is closed.

Me: I know, but the machine swallowed my card and won’t give it back.

Him: The bank is closed.

Me: I know, but I need help.

Him: I will ask my colleague. (There followed a conversation between him and a young woman.)

Him: The bank is closed.

Me: I know, but I need my card back from the machine.

Him: The machine is closed. Come back tomorrow morning.

Me: Tomorrow morning? But in the meantime I have no money. What do you want me to do?

Eventually he did come out, pressed a few buttons and the machine spit out my card. I didn’t get any money, but at least I got my card. I went back to the machine on my way up to the cafe for my after-dinner glass of wine, and got the money. Buenos Aires — you have to love it!

But all this was in Spanish, so in the end I focused not on the frustration of the situation, but on how proud I was of my Spanish! I think the thing is that when you are arguing, you don’t slow down to worry about how you’re saying things, you just let it all come out. Anyway, it worked!