Ignorance is Bliss

Every mom wants their child to aim high when it comes to what they want out of life. So when Sarafina told me that when she grows up she wants to be the “perfume girl” in a department store, I felt like such a failure.

It’s easy to feel like a failure in this life, so I see no need to set New Years resolutions (a sure opportunity for failure) just to confirm that fact. Signs all around me tell me that I don’t measure up, that I’m not good enough, smart enough, rich enough or pretty enough. Maybe I should make a resolution to stop reading those signs.

One expectation that I’ve fallen short on is learning this silly language. We’ve been here for almost 6 months, and I was sure I’d be “popping” into conversations by now. But here I am, still chasing the words.

But maybe it’s like the boys on the playground thing: What would they do with the girls if they caught them? Who would they chase then? In a similar way, what fun would this experience be if I spoke the language? I would know where I am, where I’m going and what I am eating all the time – what fun is that?

There are some things that just don’t need explaining anyway. For instance, last week my parents and I took the Tren del Vino (wine train) through the Colchagua wine country. Wine. Train. What more needs to be said? (except that Viognier makes the best breakfast wine). The girls now sleep in until almost 9:30am every morning (insert sound of crickets chirping). And Sarafina’s career change is because perfume smells better than being a doctor in space. Now who can argue with that?

I’m all for keeping the language bar set low. I can’t be lured into a banal conversation with the guy next to me on the metro (subway) or the cola (checkout line) at the market. I’m not a failure just because I don’t understand the foul language other drivers shout at me. I may not be smart, pretty, rich, or bi-lingual, but thanks to my daughter I will always smell nice, and that’s good enough for me.

Sisma