Campo Aposento Alto: Why I Don't Go First
Languages are hard, trust me.
At camp teams competed against each other in games to earn points. At the end of the week the total points were tallied and a winner announced. My team, the Artesanos, had just finished a game and walked over to the next one, at the pool.
The bottom of the pool was scattered with 100 keys, half of them black and the other half red, on the edge of the pool there were two chests with a slit on the top of each. The activity leader began to explain the rules. Each team had to jump in the pool grab a key (one color for each team) and then get out of the pool, putting the key in their chest. They then tag the next person on their team into the pool. The team with the most keys won.
They explained rules quickly and I tried my best to understand. Our team quickly began setting our lineup. What? You're 6'2" and white? Ok Michael Phelps, to the front of the line. You're going first.
I tried to explain this wasn't a great idea. Generally, I preferred to not go first in anything in case I hadn't understood all of the rules. They didn't listen, and we were starting in 3, 2, 1... I leaped into the pool, snatched a key from the bottom and vaulted out. I quickly slipped the key into the top of the chest and tagged the next person in.
My team exploded.
They explained as I looked back at the chests. There was a small lock on the front of each keeping them closed. I hadn't even seen the locks before, we were obviously racing to find the key that could open our chest. Embarrassing.
Well, at least the chances the one key I had put in the chest was the one we needed, were pretty slim. Lucky for me it wasn't, about four people later we found the right key and opened the chest. My error was overshadowed by the fact that we were one of the only teams (maybe the only) to open their chest.
Overshadowed maybe to everyone else, it was all I could think about. I understand most of what is happening, but I hate it when I don't. I hate not knowing what's going on, and then even worse, doing something wrong because of it. I hate being out of the loop. I hate having to ask people to repeat themselves once, twice, three times. I hate when people assume I didn't understand, or assume I always need an explanation or help doing something. I hate that a team of people gathers to help me find books in the bible every time a reference comes up because I didn't know "Judas" is "Jude", "Tito" is "Titus", etc. (Yes Judas = Judas and Jude = Judas)
Pride has always been something difficult for me. Though in recent time, while still acknowledging that it wasn't my best trait, I couldn't help but think "Hey look at how far I have come!" Until I arrived in Bogota of course. Being immersed in a new language and trying to learn it, is more humbling than I could have ever imagined. This is not an easy lesson to learn, but with any luck, I will have left Colombia having learned something.
At camp teams competed against each other in games to earn points. At the end of the week the total points were tallied and a winner announced. My team, the Artesanos, had just finished a game and walked over to the next one, at the pool.
The bottom of the pool was scattered with 100 keys, half of them black and the other half red, on the edge of the pool there were two chests with a slit on the top of each. The activity leader began to explain the rules. Each team had to jump in the pool grab a key (one color for each team) and then get out of the pool, putting the key in their chest. They then tag the next person on their team into the pool. The team with the most keys won.
They explained rules quickly and I tried my best to understand. Our team quickly began setting our lineup. What? You're 6'2" and white? Ok Michael Phelps, to the front of the line. You're going first.
I tried to explain this wasn't a great idea. Generally, I preferred to not go first in anything in case I hadn't understood all of the rules. They didn't listen, and we were starting in 3, 2, 1... I leaped into the pool, snatched a key from the bottom and vaulted out. I quickly slipped the key into the top of the chest and tagged the next person in.
My team exploded.
They explained as I looked back at the chests. There was a small lock on the front of each keeping them closed. I hadn't even seen the locks before, we were obviously racing to find the key that could open our chest. Embarrassing.
Well, at least the chances the one key I had put in the chest was the one we needed, were pretty slim. Lucky for me it wasn't, about four people later we found the right key and opened the chest. My error was overshadowed by the fact that we were one of the only teams (maybe the only) to open their chest.
Overshadowed maybe to everyone else, it was all I could think about. I understand most of what is happening, but I hate it when I don't. I hate not knowing what's going on, and then even worse, doing something wrong because of it. I hate being out of the loop. I hate having to ask people to repeat themselves once, twice, three times. I hate when people assume I didn't understand, or assume I always need an explanation or help doing something. I hate that a team of people gathers to help me find books in the bible every time a reference comes up because I didn't know "Judas" is "Jude", "Tito" is "Titus", etc. (Yes Judas = Judas and Jude = Judas)
Pride has always been something difficult for me. Though in recent time, while still acknowledging that it wasn't my best trait, I couldn't help but think "Hey look at how far I have come!" Until I arrived in Bogota of course. Being immersed in a new language and trying to learn it, is more humbling than I could have ever imagined. This is not an easy lesson to learn, but with any luck, I will have left Colombia having learned something.
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