Idioma

I hate Google Maps so much. I was literally just trying to visit my in-laws in Birmingham, but now I’m trying to read this stupid map in a moving car while the phone is speaking– “MOM, WHY IS IT SPEAKING SPANISH?!” Jason shouted at me.

“I DON’T KNOW! PLEASE STOP YELLING AT ME, I’M TRYING TO FOCUS!” I shout back. This always happens to me. Technology is always trying to ruin my life. This is all Billy Gates’ fault, or whatever his name is.

“Gira a la derecha en media milla.” says Spanish Siri. I try to switch the language, but my finger slips and closes the language-window-menu-thingy. 

“MOOMMMM,” says Jason, “IS THAT A–”

“BE QUIET, JASON!” I can’t focus with all this noise going on.

“Gire a la derecha.” I’m not listening to Spanish Siri anymore. I’m just not. I’ll just turn off the soun–”

“MOM, WATCH OUT!” Jason shouts at me. 

“JASON, JUST BE QUIET,” I yell back. As I look forward, I don’t see the road… oh god. I’m not sure what happened, but the car is now in the air and my heart is jumping out of my chest. Is this a car crash? Is this what a car crash feels like? I feel like I could run a marathon right now. Too bad I’m flying through the air in a giant piece of metal.

“Cambio de ruta…,” says Spanish Siri, “gire a la derecha en 2 mi–”

***

“Is theeawer fnayhtin els yfou wantag tallle mesee?”

“Nowe.”

“Alright, werll, yorsa nomms goanna bfe okae, gots it?”

“Yesss.” 

“Call mae bak in if yo need anything.”

“Alright,” says Jason’s voice.

“Don’t be so sad, kid. She’ll be fine.” I open my eyes. I’m pretty sure someone was talking to my son. A nurse walks out of the room, hopefully after giving Jason some good news. I try to sit up, but Jason pushes me back down.

“Get some rest, mom,” says Jason.

“I’m fine, I don’t need rest. Where are we?” I ask and try to sit up again, but Jason just pushes me back down and calls the nurse in. 

“You fractured a few ribs,” says the nurse, “Lucky for you, fractured ribs are pretty easy to treat. They’ll heal on their own, just take some painkillers when it hurts. Fill out this form and you’ll be free to go.” He handed me a clipboard with a bunch of paperwork and a pen and started to leave.

“Hey- wait!” I shouted after him. Too late. He left, so I just started to fill out the paperwork. The logo in the corner said, “Ascension St. Vincent’s East”, which seemed kind of familiar, for some reason. I’ll just look this up on Google Maps, hopefully it’s in English… It’s not. I hand the phone to Jason. “Can you change the language for me?” I ask.

“Do it yourself, mom,” he says.

“The last time I tried that, we got in a car crash and I fractured 5 of my ribs,” I said, “just change it to English, please.”

“Fine,” he said, and took the phone moodily, like I’d just handed him a clipboard full of paperwork and a pen. He has no reason to be angry. I’m the one “signing here” over and over. I’m the one paying the hospital bill. When he hands it back to me, it’s still in Spanish.

“Why is it still speaking Spanish?” I ask.

“I couldn’t figure it out. I couldn’t find the language window anywhere, so I gave up. Good luck with your spanish Google Maps, I guess.” I sigh and find where the search bar usually is, but instead it says, “Buscar en Google Maps” Hopefully that means “search” in spanish. I type in “Ascension St. Vincent’s East”. We’re on the outskirts of Birmingham. I guess we were close to the city when we crashed. 

“Alright, Jason,” I said, “look at me. Are you paying attention? I’m not going to repeat this again, okay?”

“Okay. Also, what are we going to do now?” he asks. 

“That’s… what I’m about to tell you. I’m not going to tell you again, so listen up. Alright, in about half an hour, your grandpa is going to come here and pick us up to bring us back to his place. When we get there I’ll work out all the complications with the crash and we’ll enjoy the rest of our vacation.

“What about all our stuff? Are we going to get that back?” asks Jason.

“We might, we might not. It depends on how bad the crash was. Any other questions?”

“No.” 

“Alright. No more questions. I don’t want this to be like last year’s trip, when you kept asking stupid questions I’d already answered because you never paid attention.” I call my father-in-law and ask him to pick us up from the hospital and pray that at least some of our stuff made it out of that crash intact.

***

“I’m sorry, but nothing made it out of that crash intact, ma’am,” says Jared, the guy at the autobody shop. 

“Nothing? Really?” I ask.

“Nothing,” he responds. 

“Alright, I’ll be down there tomorrow to fill out all the forms,” I said, and then hung up. I should change my Google Maps language to English now. I open up the app, and click the “menú” button, and go down to “Idioma” at the bottom. Wait… my language is already set to English. Why is everything in Spanish?! What is happening?! I close Google Maps and realize that… everything is in Spanish! I’m getting this phone fixed now. I’ll look up some stores that offer tech support. Wait… I can’t read any of this. I’ll ask my father-in-law. 

“Dad!” I call from the guest room where Jason and I are staying.

“Yeah?” he says while he walks over to our room. 

“Do you know any good tech stores that can help me fix my phone?”

“Uhh… City Tech? Yeah, they’re pretty good. They helped me get a new charger, remember?” 

“Oh, yeah. Thanks!” I’ll leave Jason at my father-in-law’s place while I go get my phone fixed. I get in the car and drive off towards City Tech. Good thing I don’t need directions. I spot City Tech on Point Corporate Dr., and park right in front. When I walk in, the little ding-dong thing goes off and a tired employee walks to the front to ask if she can help me find anything.

“Can I help you find anything?” she asks. 

“Yeah, actually I was wondering if you could help me change the language on my phone,” I request.

“Of course!” she says with forced cheerfulness. 

“Good. It’s been driving me crazy. I thought that it was just Google Maps speaking Spanish, but it turns out that it’s my entire phone! You know, this thing got me in a vicious car crash earlier!”

“Oh, yeah? That’s so crazy,” she says with more forced emotion as she takes my phone, “Can you unlock your phone for me?”

“Oh, sure,” I say and type in my password, “1234”. “That car crash actually fractured a few of my ribs and it’s probably going to cost me over $30,000 in repairs and medical bills! I swear, this thing is trying to kill me!”

“That fun,” she says, clearly done with my little story, “Here. Is that all?” she asks and hands me my phone back. It’s in English! Praise the Lord!

“Yep! Thank you!” I say, and walk right out the door. She looks like she wants to say something, but I’m already at my car. I drive away, and enjoy the rest of my vacation with my son and in-laws.