The Gringa's Adventures in Costa Rica - Part 2 - No Habla o Intiendo Mas Espanol

It's all in the title GRINGA!

Saying I was "Gringa" was also my "pass" to the locals once I fell into the "holy crap, they're talking back to me REALLY FAST & have no flippin' clue what they're saying!"

It was (mostly) met with humor, a little giggle & then a full conversation in Spanglish - which I'm much better at.

Although I said we were having an adventure vacation for the kids - Momma wanted a night to dress pretty, take the in-laws out for dinner & have a nice drink.  Perhaps a Margarita.

Um, no...  Margaritas are Mexican, not Costa Rican.

Let's recap dinner night...

Here I am, all dressed in my long flowy dress... the warm breeze blowing - my dress and hair blowing gently as I stride into the restaurant.

We are immediately seated.  I've been speaking fairly well for the past few days and I'm feeling confident.

Over walks the waiter & immediately hands me the menu with "INGLES" across the top.

Oh, OK... I get it... Gringa, I know.  I figure I'd have a little fun & ask him if I screamed "GRINGA" walking in.  He simply said yes & walked away.

No sense of humor.  Drats!

Yeah, yeah - I know - the blonde hair, the fair skin & light eyes are a dead give away - but come on - gimme a shot, will ya??

Ok, so here comes waiter #2.  Let's not joke with him, they don't seem to like me much here.

Before anyone gets on me about this...I WAS a server once upon a time - I am very sensitive to servers.  I tip well, keep my kids in line & am considerate, kind and I don't leave a mess - so the following is not something I deserved or expected.

Waiter:  ¿Qué quieres beber?
Me:  Hola, senor.  Yo quiero un margarita para mi por favor, y jugo de pina por las ninas.  Gracias.

Looks good, right?  My husband, who is Costa Rican and of course fluent in the language nodded his head in approval.

I was feeling proud & accomplished.

That is until the waiter came back with drinks for everyone but me.  Confused, I asked my husband if I'd said it right.  He told me I was spot on.  Waiter walks away, I've got nothing.  Let's just add here that I sat in the back seat of the car with the girls screaming & acting like whack-a-doodles the entire day while hubby & his bro were chit chatting away en espanol in the front seat.  I love it and all, but Momma NEEDED a cold cocktail.

My husband called the waiter over & asks where my drink was.

Apparently they don't make Margaritas & he thought my name was Margarita.  Ugh, Really??

Simple, right?

I look at the drink menu - there's tequila, there's triple sec, there's lime juice - isn't that the makings of a Margarita??

Whatever.... I'm a spoiled American & clearly expect too much.  I looked again & decided to keep it simple & just ask for Pineapple Juice & Malibu.  In Spanish, of course.

I'm met with full on deer in the head lights look...Together?  You want the Malibu in the pineapple juice?  Yes, I want the Malibu IN the pineapple juice!  WTH??

Here Jenn, this is for you...  Bahahahaha

Now it's dinner ordering time.  I order for the girls, in Spanish - no one's gonna squash my Mojo.

For myself, I order Ensalada de Langosta (Lobster Salad) and Filet of Sea Bass for my entree.

What appetizer comes out for me??  Ceviche.

Really??  Now I'm wondering if this guy is just screwing with me.  I asked my husband again... did I say it right?  Again, he said yes.

We give the ceviche to my father in law, because I'm allergic to shrimp (that would be a whole other show)  My husband asked my brother in law to deal with the guy, because clearly he was messing with me.  Finally I get the actual lobster salad and my drink.

Here's looking at YOU - Gringa!

All seemed to be well in my little world, until the entree.....A full fish, breaded & fried with the eyes looking at me.

Clearly my sense of humor was not appreciated in that establishment.

Dear Outback, Thank you for being in Costa Rica.  Smoochies!

You'll be happy to know that later in the week my dear, sweet brother in law found us a good ol gringa/gringo Outback Steak House in San Jose that appreciated the Gringa sense of humor & serves Margaritas.  I had 3...  All was good in my little world.

It's not always easy being a gringa in a foreign land.

Thank you for reading my blog!

I wish you a fountain of Margaritas!


Smoochies :)

~Jenn

PS.  Thank you for the emails saying it should be HABLO not habla... I appreciate the correction, but I meant to be wrong :)  Smoochies xxoo