Miami, Foreign Country

The lovely city of Miami from a cruise ship

So today I was entering my house address in online some financial aid form and when I hit "F" for state, "Foreign Country" came up. I laughed to myself, because Miami really is like a foreign country.

Later on in the day, I had a "Miami is a foreign country" experience when I dragged myself to the gym. I'm not gonna lie, I was not in a good mood. When you arrive at the gym, you give your membership number and the employee has to enter it and make sure it's you based on a photo they take when you sign up.

Fun fact: The name of the gym is Porky's. Just charming, isn't it?

Anyway, I got to the front counter and there was a middle aged woman at the computer. I smiled at her and barely got the first number out when she rudely barked: "En Espanol, por favor." Yes, "por favor" means please. I don't remember if she actually said please but I will try to keep the demonization of this foul woman to a minimum, since I admit I was in a shitty mood. So I slowly, clearly dished out my membership number in Spanish, digit by digit, with a smidgen of attitude, I'll admit. I will also admit that while speaking slowly added a dramatic effect, part of my reason for doing so was because it took me a while to process it all in Spanish. How VERY inconvenient for the customer! Anyway, instead of just opening the gate and letting me get to sweatin', she decided to ask (rudely) where I opened my membership, because my number was weird, I assume. Honestly, my picture was up on the screen and she was just being a pain in my un-worked out gluteus maximus. There was another guy behind the counter who witnessed all of this; he saw that I was already irritated at this wench's attitude, and he saw me give her the number in a very annoyed way. He said "don't worry about it, just go in" and I knew he knew that his coworker was just being a pain in the ass and that it wasn't an uncommon occurrence. She didn't like my attitude, but she started it.

What bugs me is that it's definitely not the first time I've been faced with being treated rudely for speaking English in Miami. As an immigrant myself, I would like to put it out there that I have NO PROBLEM with immigrants. It's great that people from other countries can come here and have a real life and live the so-called "American Dream." I do, however, have a problem with the attitude of many Hispanics in Miami. There is a sense of entitlement. They take it for granted that they've got a huge community of their own kind, that they don't have to feel like strangers in a strange land, because a giant part of the population is just like them. "Learn English", I'd like to say. But, I know that it is not easy to learn a new language, especially when you are older, especially when 90% of the people around you are not helping you practice because they're all speaking to you in Spanish. That's fine. It is a matter of circumstance, and the truth is, if my parents lived somewhere where 90% of the people around them were Lebanese, they probably wouldn't speak as much English (and Spanish) as they do now.

But this lady didn't even make the effort. Her job is to listen to people give me their membership numbers. All she needs to do is learn the ten possible digits that could make up a membership number. WTF. I can count to ten in half a dozen languages. It's not that hard. But FINE, maybe that's too difficult for her. I'd respect that too. But for her to sass me up and demand I tell her my number in Spanish. Harumph! She's got some nerve!

And she's not THAT new to the country, because she has been working at the gym for at least a year (I remember seeing her there last year). So PSSHHH.

Ok, now I'm done ranting. I wish I had pulled the "No habla Espanol" card on her. Because what business does a Lebanese chick have speaking Spanish? Of course, I look like any other Cuban girl so people automatically assume that I speak it.

I grew up this way. Everywhere I turned there was someone who didn't speak English, or who didn't even care to try. Welcome to Miami, bienvenido a Miami. Damn Will Smith and his catchy tunes.

As much as I may complain about it (in case you couldn't tell, I complain about it a lot), I must say growing up here gave me the chance to learn and practice Spanish as though living in a Spanish-speaking country. I can say that I (sadly) speak Spanish better than Arabic. I also know a lot about Latin culture, particularly the food. Holy yum. It still sucks sometimes. Especially since everyone just expects me to bust some salsa moves because they assume I'm Cuban, then they see the spasticity that is my attempt to dance. The fancy footwork, the spinning, it's just way too much for me. Hand me a pastelito and call it a night.

Sigh... wonderful Miami, land of beautiful beaches and fake knockers, home of terrible drivers and rude non-English speakers. I've only been here a month and I'm already sick of it. Luckily, I haven't been caught in any traffic jams or terrible thunderstorms. It's days like these that make me miss DC in all its glory.

But it has been a great summer here. Hanging out with buddies, going to the beach/pool, bowling at a place that we used to go to in high school (except now we can get the great beer specials), partying it up on South Beach, etc... I can't deny it's a fun place to be, as long as you speak Spanish and have a high tolerance for rude, loud people.

In other news... on my way to the gym, I was stopped at a light and, much to my surprise, a group of ducks walked by. A herd of ducks? A school? I don't know what the proper name for a collection of ducks is, but a gang of ducks was totally just walking by in front of my car, in a straight line, the way ducks do. It took them a minute to cross the intersection, and they veered toward the right and were on the street, in the way of oncoming traffic! I was so scared of seeing one of them get run over. But, amazingly, cars avoided the duckies and all was right in the world.