Communication is Connection (Not Perfection)

I remember my first Valencian orange juice. It was thick, sweet, and sunshine in a glass. I’ve been hooked ever since.

As I was preparing it one morning, my friend Xavi watched with curiosity as I squeezed the orange — pulp and all — into the cup.

“Does everyone in California drink it like that?” he asked curiously

“No,” I laughed, “most people drink just the juice. But I love it with the pulp, too.”

A flicker of horror flashed across his face. Just a blink. Then he quickly recovered. «Bit of an overreaction», I thought to myself.

The gorgeous citrus of Valencia. Photo by D. Khanukayev

However, I remember that look — those moments when I’m caught up in conversation, speaking freely, and then, for a second, something in the air shifts, like a moment of unspoken shock. Spaniards will not correct your Spanish, it is considered rude, but every once in a while, their face will give it away.

In these moments, I mentally rewind, scan the sentence, and usually find it: a gender slip. I switch the noun from masculine to feminine, or the other way around. Easy, right? Except… in English, things don’t have gender. Girls are “she,” boys are “he,” and everything else is just… “it. But in Spanish? Everything — chairs, ideas, books, feelings — is either a girl or a boy.

And yes, that was it. I had told Xavi that I like pulpo (octopus) in my juice — not pulpa (pulp). We laughed, of course, once we cleared it up. I assured him there was no seafood in my citrus.

This kind of mix-up used to paralyze me. I’d freeze mid-sentence, trying to mentally conjugate ten verb tenses and match fifteen noun endings. But somewhere along the way — maybe while buying tomatoes in the wrong tense or confusing “casado” (married) with “cansado” (tired) — I stopped aiming for perfect. And I started aiming for connection. That’s the thing no one tells you when learning a language: you can say all the “right” words and still miss the point. Or you can say completely wrong words — and still be understood, even embraced.

In the U.S., we soften awkwardness with smiles and maybe a quick question for clarification. In Spain, since you are never corrected, you have to tune in to the quick facial confusion which is followed by a quick smile.

Let’s let this year be the start of a new attitude, let’s drop the fear of sounding silly. Let’s speak, even if it’s messy. Let’s listen for meaning, not mistakes.  Because whether you say pulpo or pulpa, if you’re speaking from the heart — someone will get the juice of it.