Our friend asked if I knew Spanish, too, and I replied that I know a few phrases.
Laurie rolled her eyes. "Go ahead," she said. So I rattled off my best Spanish, as our friend arched her eyebrow higher with each phrase:
"Cuatro personas por fila, por favor"*
"No más de veinticuatro personas por barco"**
"Permanezcan sentados, por favor"***
"Mantenga las manos y los brazos dentro del barco"****
"No tomar fotografías con flash"*****
I could tell she was struggling to find some context for these seemingly random phrases, but her blank stare turned to understanding once Laurie explained....
"He learned to speak Spanish working at Pirates of the Caribbean."
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*Four people per row, please
**No more than 24 people per boat
***Remain seated, please
****Keep your hands and arms inside the boat
*****No flash photography
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I have a great language story that's not theme park related though. I spent a year traveling with a musical show, and we ended our tour for the holidays in Europe. I could either fly home to the US and back to Denmark to rejoin the cast, or could wander around Europe on my own. I was invited by a friend from the show to stay with his family in Poland and I accepted. The father decided to teach me some Polish. He spoke no English himself, but he taught me a few words. Since it was the holidays, he decided to go visit some of his school friends and he took his visiting American with him to show off. (This was right after the fall of Communism in Poland, and anything American had been once forbidden and was now exciting. "Gone With the Wind," was the big event on TV while I was there for example.)
Every home we visited was the same. "Father," would introduce me in Polish, then would begin to speak with his friends about old times. I could tell when they were talking about me because the conversation was always the same. Then, as the two would be discussing who I was and why I was visiting, "Father" would indicate that I spoke Polish. He'd nod to me and point.
He'd point to the light over the table.
"Lampa," I'd recite dutifully.
He'd nod, then point at the table.
"Tabela."
He'd nod, then point at a chair.
"Krzesło."
He'd then get a wicked grin on his face and gesture dramatically at me.
"Podaj mi krzesło." I'd state with authority.
He'd then get up and with great flourish, hand me his chair over the table, the old friends laughing uproariously over the silly American asking someone to "Give me the chair!"
The old friends would then go on to discuss how I didn't drink enough (raise a glass to me) and didn't eat enough (pat their bellies and nod over to me with a disapproving look while pushing another plate of cakes in my direction). That visit over, we'd go on to the next house to do the same again.
It was a wonderful way to really meet the Polish people. To this day, when meeting someone who speaks Polish, I tell them to "Podaj mi krzesło" explaining why I know that phrase. We laugh at the silly things we Americans say and do!
The guy sounds so enthusiastic saying it!!
http://www.zazzle.com/monorail_doors_spanish_tshirt-235786067197569949
Even they get the joke.......
On a side note, I studied Spanish for three years in high school, and Disneyland safety spiels still trump that as my second best source of my grasp of Spanish, right behind actually going to Mexico.
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Por favor, mantenganse allejado de las puertas!