“Buenas Tardes — I’m a Jerk”
About the Author
Ben spends most of his time working with underprivileged kids in Tijuana, Mexico, encouraging them to continue their education. He's an unofficial member of Iglesia Bautista Monte Horeb, which runs the elementary school, Centro Pedagógico Didaque.
Three Saturdays a month I work in the mornings. We have meetings in various outback locations with children in the sponsorship program. The meetings are mandatory. Unless the child (or parent) has a good excuse, absences are frowned upon. In reality, however, a 50 percent turnout is not too bad — but that’s for a future article once I figure out the magic trick to improving Saturday morning motivation.
It’s customary in Mexican culture to greet others regardless of whether those previously in a room or wherever are known to the person entering or arriving. Kind of like when you say “Hi” or “Morning” to someone on the street as you pass them by in opposite directions. Well, if that’s protocol in the U.S. (which I think is dying, especially anywhere urban), it’s the rule in Mexico.
So, as the mothers of the children entered the church last Saturday, most all of them would say the customary, “Buenos dias” (good morning), upon arrival. For those entering late, which was 80 percent of the total 40 percent that actually attended (what that breaks down to is fairly depressing!), I would respond with “Buenas tardes” (good afternoon), even though it was actually still morning. Why? Because (for my non-Spanish speaking readers) tardes also means “late.” So, being the crafty linguist I’m not, I’d return their greeting with the double meaning, letting them know they were late. Some would laugh, some would smile uncomfortably, and some would apologize. As more and more mothers and children came in late, I became more and more annoyed at their lack of punctuality and their greeting, “Buenos dias,” with which I continued to reply “Buenas tardes.”
What we have approaching is a cultural clash. Me: You come in late? Do it as quietly as possible. The mothers: You come in late? Don’t be more rude and forget to greet those in attendance. The mothers were trying to make a wrong, right. And I was failing to see their verbal repentance as I let my U.S. mindset continue to blur my surroundings.
By 1:00 pm our 10:00 am meeting was coming to a close. I was paying school fees and had wrapped up the final payment. As I was putting away the receipt book and cash, a very shy little girl named Ana Karina and her mother walked in and came over to my makeshift desk. The mother greeted me with “Buenas tardes” (she was correct, as it was afternoon). I directed my response to cowering little Ana Karina: “Are you kidding me? 1:00 pm? Don’t tell me you don’t know what time our meeting is? And now what do you want?” Ana Karina, more humiliated than she was ten seconds prior, continued to stare at her dusty shoes, as her mother looked tongue-tied. At that moment, my boss uncomfortably stuttered, “Ben, I’ll explain it to you later.”
I’ve known my boss for a few years, and by her look and tone I immediately realized I’d gone too far. What a jerk. There’s always the exception — always! And I just walked right into it. I let my dumb personality and temper override sensitivity and compassion.
Turns out, Ana Karina had shown up late purposefully because our former employee’s husband (who had been present at the meeting) regularly intimidated the little Ana Karina, making her too scared (for good reason) to attend the meeting. So not wanting to be completely absent, she did the right thing and came at the tail end.
And who’s she scared of now? That’s right. The big (to her) white bully with the bad accent.