Spanish Accent

WHEN I flew from Houston to Mexico City via Pan American Clipper I was surprised and pleased to find, in the Souvenir Folder tucked into my seat pocket, a little booklet called Air Traveler’s Dictionary, with, the subtitle Frases Utiles en Inglés.

The headings listed in the table of contents seemed to promise a fruitful and instructive hour for one who spoke no Spanish, and I turned eagerly to the first heading: At the Airport — En el ieropuerto.

“Where is the airport? Dónde estâ el aeropuerto?“ I read, and conscientiously practiced the phonetical pronunciation in the next column: “Dohn’-day es-tah’ ell ah-ay-roh-pooayr’-toh?”

I could not help looking over into the fourth column, Pronunciacín fonétiéa, Inglés, and there I read, ὔJuér is di eir’-port?” After that I was lost. That fourth column held an irresistible fascination for me, and I could not tear myself away. “Juér is mai ba’-ge?” I read. I’ Plis cól ei taxi. Ai uisch tu check mai siÚt’queis.“

I realized that the consonants and vowels were to be pronounced in the Spanish fashion, j with the sound of h, y with the sound of j, initial “ with the sound of w, d often with the sound of th, and so forth; but even so, something seemed to be wrong. It was nothing you could put your finger on; just an indefinable sense of something not quite right.

It was not until several phrases later (“Jav iÚ ei jeld ser-ti’-fi-ket ? UÚ nil a-raiv’ punc’-tiu-eli ”) that I realized what it was about the pronunciación fonética that gave it its tantalizing flavor. The Air Traveler’sDictionary was teaching its Spanish speaking readers to speak English with a Spanish accent. Once I had grasped this principle, the rest was easy.

Turning to my companion, I remarked conversationally, “At juát al’-ti’-tiÚd ar uí flai’-ing?”

“Huh ?” was the reply.

I refused to give up so easily. “At juát eir∍-port du ui stap neest?”

“Are you trying to talk Spanish or something?” he demanded.

“Ai uisch ei sing’-l rum uid bad,” I retorted coldly. “Plis giv mi ei buc.”

Both of these remarks were ignored, so I turned back to the Frases Utiles. “Di spun, di fore, di naif, I read. “Cop, pleit, tcheir.” The next had me temporarily baffled. “Bát’-tld uó’-ter.“ I repeated it aloud.

“Look,“ said my seal male, “if that’s supposed to be Spanish, you’d better stick to English. More people will understand you.”

“But it is English.“ I explained, “pronounced phonetically.” Together we went over the phrases the tourist is expected to find useful “in di schap.”

“Jáu mutch is it?”

“Tu mutch. Giv mi sem’-ding tchi’-per.“

Now my companion, too, was entranced, He had found the section on the Póst Of’-iss.

“Giv mi di an’-vel-op,’ he read. “Ai uisch tu re’-yes-ter diss let-ter.“

“Der is di meil baes,” I replied.

“ Me’-ni dancs.”

“Dont men’-scheu it,’ I responded, hating found the felicitous phrase under the heading Everyday Expressions.

My companion had found that page too. “Ol rail,“ he remarked agreeably, lighting a cigarette. “Des di smok ba’-der iÚ?“

I searched in vain for the proper answer to this, and finally managed a feeble “Ai dont dinc so. Du iÚ jav ei match?”

For the remainder of the trip we smoked in silence. There seemed to be nothing more to say. I could hardly wait to try out my new language in Mexico City, where I felt sure it would be understood as easily as the Air Traveler’s Spanish.