Ring, Ring

So, I’ll admit, whenever our phone rings at El Bichito, my nervous system seizes up on me. I freeze and feel like everything I’ve ever known falls straight out of my head. I run down stairs to answer it, trying to calm myself down and praying that I hear English on the other end. Usually it’s not. I’ve answered a few calls that had straight up, super fast Spanish on the other end. Don’t think awfully of me, but usually I let myself assume that it’s a telemarketer (do they even have those here?) and say no thank you, good bye!

Well it gets worse. One time, we had to make a call to Hermano Sandro. He only speaks Spanish, and I can usually communicate alright with him, but the idea of talking to him on a phone intimidated me so much because it meant that I wouldn’t be able to watch his body language, his hands or his lips. Ooof! I figured there was no way I’d be able to understand him and was super stressed out at the thought. Well, when I finally found the courage to call, we found out that we don’t even know how to use the Peruvian phones. Everytime I tried to dial the number, a voice on the other line started talking to me before I was even done dialing! Who knows what she was saying. So I never even got to make the call. 

I was actually kind of bummed! I’m 100% positive I’ll have another opportunity soon. Ooof.