We never know what the other will say

One of my volunteer friends Anita once asked me how my community was responding to my sense of humor. She knew me well enough to know that this could possibly spell disaster. She asked back in December, and I could only say that I was never very funny in site, and the thought hadn´t crossed my mine. I was still trying to navigate more smoothly through conversations and cultural norms, and wasn´t thinking of making many jokes.

But in the last month, my sense of humor has started to trickle back into my interactions. Attribute it to more facility with language, better confianza with my community, frustration with routine conversation. I call it dumb because the last things folks here understand is sarcasm. Bear witness to my failures and please laugh with me because they certainly didn´t when the following things happened.

1) When I lived with Roberto alla arriba, many of my friends liked to make a big fuss about how far I had to walk and what an injustice it was that they sent the gringa to live so far away. They were horrified to think about me walking alone and fighting with the hills, mud and snakes on a daily basis. After such a remark while visiting at my now-neighbor´s house, I leaned toward their seven-year-old daughter and said ¨So, when are you going to come with me?¨She grinned sheepishly and I continued talking. At some point, she got up and changed into what I can only describe as a first-communion dress. I finished talking with her parents, and went next door to my soon-to-be house to drop something off. As I came through the gate, ready to leave, she was outside on a bench. Her hair was done, she had her boots on, and an overnight bag on her back. She was ready to come with me.

I had to kindly explain that I was just joking? I had said similar things before and no one had ever outfitted their child for the overnight journey. I told her maybe another time, because Roberto´s house had 7 kids in it, a pregnant wife, and of course a gringa. There was little space to spare. She took the news well, but her older sister told me a few days later she back to her house and wailed.

Oops.

2) I am surprised this family still talks to me, because the following incident happened with their son. One day when he came over, I was tickling him, and his legs were flailing into my table, on which I had a kerosene lamp. I promptly stopped ticklng him, and said, as seriously as possible, ´´If you break my kerosene lamp, I will break your bones.¨ It just sort of came out. I was also having a not-so-good day that day, so maybe my tone of voice was less than playful. It was meant to me one of those ´´Quit it or I´ll smack you into next Tuesday¨ lines that everyone knows are said just for the fun of the threat. He didn´t look especially horrified, so I assumed he knew I was joking.

Another neighbor, who was also present, looked at me soberly and said, ¨Cati, and if he dies?¨
I quickly replied, ¨Oh no one ever dies from a broken bone!¨

In retrospect, I read this situation terribly and didn´t realize everyone thought I was serious, and frankly, was quite afraid of me, until he came back the next day and inquired about what exactly I meant by that threat. I apologized profusely, explained again it was all in fun, and he said, ¨Oh you were just joking with us?¨

I felt really bad about that.

3) But still not enough to learn the lesson for good. Last week I was visiting at one of my favorite houses where my favorite old man lives with his daughter and her five (soon to be six!) children and hubby. Her 5 and 7-year-olds were leaving to go bathe in the quebrada and they invited me to go with them. I said I wanted stay in the house and talk, so they ran off, all smiles and giggles. As they scurried away, I yelled ¨Bring me five shrimp!¨ More giggles erupted, and they disappeared down the hill. At least an hour passed before they came back to the house and delivered into my hands five extremely large and still very living shrimp.

It is dificult to catch shrimp with bare hands, and I was embarassed that they must have spent so much time trying to collect exactly the right number for me.

Lesson learned: Don´t be sarcastic in your Ngobe village. Stick to slapstick, hyperbole, and falling in the mud, and you will have a sufficient laughtrack. Sarcasm leads to crying, paralyzing fear, and handfuls of aquatic creatures you didn´t really want in the first place.