My Spanish

This morning after running a few errands, changing some money, dropping off my laundry, eating breakfast ( a really yummy buffet at my hotel), I set off to find Profeco, the Consumer Protection Division, to drop off my paperwork for my complaint against Playa del Sol, my timeshare in Puerto Vallarta.

I went to an internet cafe because I realized I didn't have the address. I had no idea where they might be located and dreaded having to go to some congested part of town. I was pleasantly surprised to find that they were in Condessa, the nice, chic neighborhood, not far from the Zona Rosa where I am staying. The Condessa apparently was the place where the rich and famous lived until the earthquake (1986?), when many buildings were damaged and many of them fled to other areas of the city. Some artists and gays moved in and the area is now known for lovely shady sidewalk cafes and bistros. This is where I wanted to go when the Turibus hijacked me.

I got a cab and went over to Profeco, taking note of the streets we used so that I could walk back. As I entered I encountered my first problem. I didn't bring identification with me. The only ID I have is my passport, but I keep it locked in the strong box in my hotel. I didn't think that I was entering a government building and would have to show ID, even though in the states, I think it is the norm. Fortunately the receptionist was good humored about it and had someone escort me up to the 6th floor.

I was immediately ushered past the crowds into the office of a very handsome young man. He was very attentive and patient with me as I explained the problem in Spanish and handed over all of my documentation. He could not find the complaint that I submitted a few weeks ago via e-mail, which kind of has me worried, but he assured me that they would take care of this.

At one point, he told me that if I wanted I could explain in English, to which I replied, it is difficult to explain this in English and even more difficult in Spanish, but, we continued speaking in Spanish. I will admit, my Spanish was awkward, limiting and probably not perfect, but I actually went through the entire meeting with him in Spanish. I even wrote up my complaint (again) in Spanish (as requested). I had a headache when I got there, becasue normally when I have to deal with anything related to Playa del Sol, I get a headache, but when I left I was feeling relieved - relieved to be out of there and in the fresh air, and relieved that I had now turned all of my documentation over to someone who assured me I didn't have to worry.

I was also feeling pretty good about my Spanish. It was encouraging to me that even though this guy could speak English (I guess, because he offered), he thought my Spanish was good enough to continue speaking Spanish.

Now, let´s only hope that with this nice looking man, and my expensive lawyer working on this I am going to be getting a check soon from Playa del Sol refunding all that I have paid them.