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Paulo Correia's avatar

I work in tourism in Lisbon, which basically means I’m a full-time translator, therapist, and emotional support local for tourists and expats alike. And no, it’s not just the Americans and Brits who stroll in thinking “hello” is a global passport. Oh no, cluelessness is an international language now.

Let’s talk about the Spaniards. Except the Galicians—they’re our polite cousins. The rest? They charge in speaking Spanish like they’ve mistaken me for their long-lost cousin from Madrid. It's machine-gun fast, automatic-fire mode, and apparently, Spanish is the official diplomatic language of the Iberian Peninsula—who knew? Doesn't matter if you're on a tram in Alfama or ordering pasteis in Belém—it's Español o nada. My favourite phrase? “No te entiendo.” With a smile, of course.

Now, the French… ooh la la. They speak as if they’re reciting poetry to the Eiffel Tower. Because français, c’est la plus belle langue du monde, right? And clearly, my failure to speak it is a personal attack on the Republic. You should see the horror in their eyes when I reply in Portuguese, after all, all their maids are Portuguese who speaks Français. It’s like I just spilled wine on their croissant.

Italians? Oh, they bring their own drama. I swear, they don’t speak—they perform. Fast speech, big gestures, and the sheer belief that if they just feel the word hard enough, I’ll understand. I’ve become fluent in miming just to keep up. It’s like trying to interpret a Shakespearean play during rush hour on the 28 tram.

And then come our dear friends from China, Japan, and Korea. So sweet, so polite—and then they send messages full of mysterious symbols and characters that make me question whether I accidentally joined the cast of a historical drama. I squint at my phone like it's a Sudoku puzzle. Are these simplified characters? Traditional? Is this even a message or a poem? I ask Google Translate to help, and it replies with something like “the mountain dreams of soup.” Sure. That clears things up.

Honestly, I wish I could pin this all on English speakers, but nope. It’s a global phenomenon now. And when someone delivers their confusion with an bad attitude—like it’s my fault they didn’t check Duolingo before boarding the plane? That’s when I unleash my inner villain and commit the worst of the crimes for a Portuguese. I recommend the worst restaurants. And the kind of wine that even our vinegar bottles would reject

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Liza Debevec's avatar

Great post, Rachel, yes, it is so easy to learn those few words. You're setting the bar super low.

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