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Eliberto approached me on the beach today in hopes of selling me a whistle. I didn’t need a whistle, nor did I want a whistle — and even though I was slick with sweat and anxious to get on with my errands — I decided to take a minute to talk to him.
I asked Eliberto what the Spanish word for whistle was.
“Pito.”, he said.
I pulled out my notebook and my pen and asked him how to spell it.
“P – I – T – O” (Pe – ee – te – oh)
I wrote the word down so I would remember it.
“Es mi trabajo.“, remarked Eliberto: It’s my work.
We shared a few more brief words. Eliberto gave me prices of the whistles and told me he lived here in San Juan del Sur.
As I got ready to walk away I took my wallet out of my purse and handed Eliberto thirty cordobas.
Thirty cordobas is slightly more than $1 USD. Not much by any means, but a small token of my appreciation nonetheless, for the mini Spanish lesson and allowing me to take his photo.
I shook Eliberto’s hand and said, “Adios y buena suerte!”: Good bye and good luck.
Next time I’m on the beach I’m going to keep my eye out for Eliberto. Maybe I can buy him a cold drink. And maybe he’ll be willing to teach me a couple more new Spanish words.