Calma

 

The Brazilians let us know when our attempts to communicate fail. Being told that "it's better" that we speak in English is something Carol and I have both experienced. Being told to "calm down" has been used only on me. I get it from my mother's side, where the women tend to be tightly wound. I remember trying to teach my grandma the sign language alphabet and worrying that she would dislocate something with her herking and jerking. My mom gets a bit frenetic too. Carol and I sometimes reenact her fraught attempts at the word cachaça, "Cashasha! Cassaca! Cacasha!" because it cracks us up every time. So, I imagine I can seem pretty het up when I'm having a hard time communicating. When this happens, people advise me to "calma." The gardener at the Açores house told me to calma, and some of our teachers, and a cashier at a buffet. Last weekend, a pharmacy tech "calma"ed me as I tried to explain that Carol is allergic to a common cold medicine ingredient. I feel like I could have gotten the message across, given time and a patient listener, but she gave me the calma and returned with someone who could speak English.  It was not a language win.