Nicaraguan Quicksand

"I'm looking for a piggy bank."

"A what?" retorted the Nicaraguan market vendor.

"A piggy bank." I didn't think the literal translation ("Banco de Cerdo") would serve me well, but I gave it a shot.

 "Listen," I continued, "I'm looking for a plastic or porcelain container that kids use to save coins. It is often in the form of a pig."

"Why?" he replied.

"I want one for my desk. I find coins on the street and I want to put them in a piggy bank."

"No," he countered, "Why is it in the shape of a pig?"

Geez, good question. I made a mental note to look into it when I got back to my computer.

"I have no idea why it is in the shape of a pig. If you don't have any, can you point me in the right direction?"

The gruff, unshaven man, with a super-long-stringy moustache and piercing deep brown beady eyes gave me a puzzled look and pointed haphazardly to his right.

Ugggghhh. "What I mean is . . . can you tell me exactly where I might find a piggy bank? Can you be more explicit?"

"Well you said 'point'," he shot back defiantly.

"I know, I know, but it a manner of speech."

I was in Spanish quicksand and sinking fast. It is a place I have come to know very well. Call it my home away from home.

His puzzled expression had no signs of abating.

"Never mind. Next time I'll come with a picture. Gracias." (to be continued)