Lo Siento

Lo Siento

In one of my very first Spanish classes in high school, we learned to say, “I’m sorry — Lo siento.” At the time, I thought that this was a very strange phrase to learn. Wouldn’t “Hello,” “Goodbye” or “Where are the bathrooms” be more useful? 

Now, we get around, that is, we follow our very mobile children around and they get around. We have visited many countries and knowing how to say “I’m sorry” has come in handy.

You’ve heard the term “Ugly Americans.” Americans have what is perceived as an arrogant attitude in many countries. We treasure our individual rights so much that we sometimes forget the collective rights of others. We can be loud. We can be pushy. We demand. We insist. We order. We assert our right to “life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness,” wherever we go. What we perceive as our “right” is sometimes perceived as our “rude” in other countries. 

Our daughter spent three years in Namibia, Africa working for the Peace Corps. In her second year, we went to visit her. We had a grand time. We met all of her wonderful Namibian friends. Everyone offered us their best — their homes, their food, their help. The village celebrated our visit with a great feast.

The next morning, our daughter crawled into the house where we were staying. She had been violently ill all night. We drove her through the desert to the doctor. The doctor ordered tests which must be done immediately.

In Namibia, the doctor sends the patient to a clinic where samples are taken and then the patient takes the samples to a laboratory where they are analyzed. My husband and I were frantic by this time. Our daughter was very ill and we were in a strange country where we didn’t speak the language. We drove from the doctor’s office to the clinic to the lab in near panic.

When we pulled up to the lab, we saw a large crowd sitting on the lawn outside. A sign on the door said, “Open 2:00.” I looked at my watch and saw that it was 2:00, opened the door and walked right in. We left the samples and walked out the door. That’s when it hit me. We had just walked past dozens of patients politely waiting for the clinic to open. I looked at the crowd but didn’t know the words for “I’m sorry.” I apologized in English and got back in the truck. I’ve never felt more like the “Ugly American.”

“I’m sorry” are two words we don’t use enough. We often inadvertently offend others. Even in the good old U.S.A., we can be “ugly.”  We butt in line. We ignore signs. We are rude to sales clerks. We are so caught up in our own agendas that we forget others’ needs. The patients on the lab’s lawn haunt me still. I see them whenever I want to assert my “rights.” In my mind, I have apologized to them hundreds of times. I  wish I had had the right words when I needed them.

Wherever you travel, learn a few words in the local language. “Hello! Goodbye. Please. Thank you. Where are the bathrooms? I’m sorry.” Like the villagers in Namibia, offer your best.