My hostess points to the kitchen: ‘Que quieres desayunar?’
I look at her questioningly.
‘Desayunar,’ she then repeats. ‘Breakfast.’
Ah, now I understand. She wants to make me breakfast. ‘Gracias,’ I try in my best Spanish. I rub my stomach: ‘hambre’.
Ha, the Spanish word for hungry I fortunately never forget.
She points to some products in the kitchen. ‘Que quieres?’
I think for a moment. Yesterday I had quite a few cocktails so I could use a good breakfast. At home I always eat eggs after a heavy night. I’m sure they would have that here right?
I point to the refrigerator. “Eggs?”
She looks at me not understanding. Oh oh, what was the Spanish word for eggs again! I’m racking my brain when it suddenly comes to mind.
“Huesos!” I exclaim.
Now she’s looking at me in disgust.
“Huesos?” she repeats.
Okay so that wasn’t it. I make my hands the shape of an egg and point to the refrigerator again.
“Ahhhhhh! She smiles. ‘Huevos!’
I stick my thumb up. ‘Si si, huevos!’
As I sit down to my fried egg I grab my phone. I type ‘huesos’ into the translation machine.
Oh, kind of a shame I just told my hostess I’d like ‘bones’ for breakfast.