Sometimes as a salesperson, (take that, Gloria Steinem) the spoken word can be a bit difficult at times. For that matter, even the written word can be tough to interpret. As I travel in the central western plains states, I constantly have to ask for forgiveness for my Texas accent. I don't think a conversation I have had in the last three years with anyone living north of Oklahoma, has not been interrupted by, "What did you say?" and followed up with "Ohhhh". I get tickled when someone from North Dakota has a hard time understanding me......
Sometimes the language barriers in your own state has its own share of miscommunication. I called on a particular store in Rio Grande City, Texas for most of the 90's. Rio Grande City is in the western portion of the Rio Grande Valley about one hour west of McAllen, Texas and about 2 hours east of Laredo, Texas. The Rio Grande Valley is a huge farming and ranching area in deep south Texas. The weather is fairly even for most of the year. One customer of mine in Hidalgo,Texas said "In the valley we have very warm weather. It is either hot or it's not so hot." Words never spoken better. It is smack dab, right on the border of Texas and Mexico and the population is about 95% Hispanic. Spanish is the primary language spoken and English is actually a second language in some cases. When I first started calling on these farm stores in the Valley, I was lost about half the time when I was in the store. Most of the customers spoke Spanish and I couldn't tell good from bad or high from low. I would listen to the conversations and try to pick up a word or two as the conversation progressed. After about 2 or 3 years, I was partly able to tell what was being said, but I still didn't know sic 'em from come here.
One particular customer was Gus Perez, who owned Border Enterprises in Rio Grande City. Gus was about my age and the guys that worked for him about the same. I think we all became pretty good friends over the years and I still look forward to stopping in to see them once or twice a year. They even started calling me "Timo", which is pronounce "Temo" with the e being short. Kind of like "Timmy" in Spanish. But in the beginning, I was just another new gringo from El Norte calling on their store and I had to prove myself to them both personally and professionally. If I were in their shoes, I'd be doing the same. Susie had taught me a few words in Spanish, but the only words I really knew were the cuss words. Typical.
One day a guy came in to the store while I was there and started up a conversation with the buyer. Of course it was all in Spanish and I had no clue about what was being said. Since this store was the local meeting place for everyone from tick riders(tick riders are USDA government employees who patrol the border on horseback looking for parasite infested cattle) to local ranchers to Border Patrol and Customs Agents. This one particular guy came in from time to time and I recognized him right off the bat. We had never really spoken (obviously), but he generally gave me the expressionless, male raise of the chin to acknowledge me. This is the universally adopted male, unspoken method of saying, "Hi! How are you! Everything okay with the family?". This time he gave the male high sign and finally spoke to me.
As he walked past me, he smiled and said "Hey wedo." Pronounce wedo like weather, but instead of "er", say "oh". I must admit I was taken a-back a little. First because someone had finally acknowledged me, and secondly, I am thinking "What the hell did that SOB just call me?!" This went on for several months. I would see this guy every now and then and he kept calling me "wedo". One day I had all I could stand. I walked up to the buyer, George, all bowed up and tough (sound familiar to you?) and told him what the guy had said. He threw his head back and laughed like I had told him a dirty joke. He laughed some more and said in his very thick Spanish accent, "Timo! He not saying anything bad to you! What he is say is bueno." I looked at him with a puzzled and with a very doubtful look on my face and said, "Yeahhhh, sure it is." George told me, "Wedo means white guy or blondie in English. Nothing bad." George went on to say, " We call Gus the same since he is so light skinned, so don't worry about it." Talk about letting the air out of a balloon.
From then on, I would see this guy (I never did know his name) and he would smile and say "What's happening, wedo?". He would give me the valley hand shake, kind of a 60's soul, hand clasp, with thumbs turned back toward you, and I would say "Como esta, mi amigo!". I'm sure my grasp of the Spanish language really impressed him. After a few years of calling on this area of Texas, I felt very much at home and very relaxed. I felt like I had made some very good friends and I am sure my customers felt the same about me.
When I tell people where I used to travel, they get this look on there face like, " Oh man that must have sucked pretty bad.". I tell them that it wasn't as bad as they think it must have been. The only bad part was that it was so far away (4 hours) from my home at the time of Seguin, Texas. Getting up every other Tuesday morning at three o'clock in the AM and driving four hours to my first account was a beating. I did it for about seven years and it makes one appreciate five o'clock very much.
Story morale's are a little over-rated, but this one definitely has one. Don't be too judgemental of another culture or language until you drink coffee or break bread with them. Ask questions or just listen a bit before you get too cocky or sure of yourself. If someone calls you "wedo", smile and say to them,
"Comer caca, vato." No seriously, don't say that. You better be fleet of foot or a cage fighter if you utter that inflammatory phrase.
