Mike’s Poorly Developed Spanish for Motorcycling the Americas
In October 2022, as I first rode south across the Columbia Bridge - a small border crossing 20 minutes outside of Laredo, Texas - my Spanish fluency amounted to 3 years of once-a-week classes in high school.
Beyond “Donde esta la biblioteca?” and “Puedo ir al baño?”, I was pretty useless.
And yet, less than a year later, I found myself in Río Grande, one of the last small towns north of Ushuaia, Argentina on November 21st, 2023 doing something I’d never imagined: I was training jiu jitsu at the bottom of the world, and not only was I training, I was teaching a class to people that didn’t speak a word of english. And they understood me.
In 2024, it’s possible to get by on pantomiming hand gestures and Google Translate. I know that because that’s how the first five weeks went in Mexico. I remember calling my dad, fluent in Spanish in his own rite from a decade as a general contractor, at the end of every day saying, “I’m so mentally fried from the language barrier. I can’t function. I don’t know if I can do this.”
But “getting by” isn’t why we travel. We travel, especially on motorcycles, with the goal of immersion; of wrapping ourselves in the intricacies and stories and cultural blankets of our given routes.
We want to chat with the hotel owner of a small inn below Mexican volcanoes, or the dock workers loading our bikes onto the ship about to take us up the Amazon River. We want to be able to ask for directions when our phone dies in a small town in Peru during a regional power outage.
We want to make people laugh.
We want to connect.
And in the spirit of that desire to connect, I’m going to give you a list of the phrases I used almost every day on my 400 day stretch to the bottom of the world:
1.) “Lo siento, pero necesito hablarme mas despacio; como yo tengo ocho años.”
Courtesy of my father, this lovely phrase translates to, “I’m sorry, but you need to speak to me slower, like I’m 8-years-old.” This always got a chuckle from the locals, and would often result in them complimenting my remedial grasp of the language.
2.) “Hola! Estoy buscando por _______________.”
Translates to, “Hi! I’m looking for _________________.” Could be food (comida) , a place to buy snacks (bocadillos), a hotel for the night (un hotel para la noche), etc.
3.) “Hay una problema con mi moto. Hay un taller muy cerca?”
Translates to, “There is a problem with my motorcycle. Is there a workshop nearby?”
NOTE: Google Translate will translate “Mechanic” as “Mechanicó.” In Central and South America, 99% of the time people are going to use the word “Taller”, pronounced Tie-yare, when referring to a place that fixes motorcycles.
4.) “Hola, tengo un reservacion esta noche. Hay estacionamiento en el hotel?”
While technically correct, I feel like this one is wordier than it needs to be. That said, this once is best used when making a reservation via WhatsApp - something I would do often. This one means, “Hi, I have a reservation tonight. Is there parking at the hotel?” Nothing worse than making a reservation online, arriving at the hotel, and then realizing you need to parkt he bike outside overnight.
5.) “Es seguro aqui?”
“Is it safe here?” Always a weird one to ask, but I’ve never gotten any side eye, especially in places that historically have bad reputations for safety.
6.) “Que puedo hacer por aqui? Que me puedes recomendar?”
Translates to, “What can I do around here? What can you recommend to me?”
7.) IN BOLIVA: “Sin factura es posible?”
Translates to, “Is it possible without a receipt?” This one will procure reactions ranging from a simple, “No”, to quickly thrown profanities and being told to leave the gas station. Allow me to explain: In Bolivia, gasoline is subsidized by the Bolivian Government, meaning that locals pay one price while foreigners, extranjeros, pay a precio internacional that is roughly 3-4 times the local prices. One of the workarounds, of which there are many, is simply ask the gas station attended for gas without a receipt. Oftentimes, they’ll concede to a price somewhere between the local price and the “gringo price”, and pocket the difference.
Note: Generally not needed when buying gasoline from coca cola bottles near Salar de Uyuni. They do cash prices!
8.) IN COLOMBIA: “Que Chimba!”
Colombian Spanish was a little tricky to learn, mainly due to the speed and the slang. “Chimba” is one of those words you’ll hear tossed around all the time. Best translation for this one is, “How awesome!”
9.) IN MEXICO: “No Mames, Guey!”
A classic. Bonus points for extending “mames” to “maaaaaaaaaaames.” Esentially means, “No way, man!”
10.) “BUJIAS” not “BRUJAS”
The word for spark plugs is BUJIAS, not BRUJAS. How do I know this? Well, let’s flash back to San Gil, Colombia. It’s March 2023, and my VStrom is due for a tune-up at 65,000 miles. New timing chains, nem motor mount bolts, oil change, valve adjustment, and, lastly, spark plugs. I confirm the work with the taller, walk downstairs to the parts counter to confirm everything, and see that they missed the spark plugs.
So I say, with full confidence, “Necesito dos BRUJAS, por la moto.”
They two women behind the counter look at me, heads cocked left and right. “Que????” They ask.
I’m confused - I’m asking for a really common motorcycle part. Spark plugs. Electrical life of the engine. So I say again, “Dos BRUJAS!” Two spark plugs!
Again. Side eye. So, I give up and pull out my phone and Google Translate. Maybe there’s a bit of Colombian slang I’m missing for this particular part.
Which is how I found myself, face as red as the stripe on the Colombian flag above the counter, realizing that I’d just told two Colombian women, “Hi, I also need two WITCHES for the motorcycle.” Not my finest moment, but I’ll never forget the word for spark plugs (or witches, apparently.")
Advice
Spanish is hard. You’ll have to deal with local dialects, slang, accents, and rapidly evolving vocab. You’ll encounter regions, like those Guatemala and Bolivia, where Spanish is a second language for entire provinces. In a way, it’ll make your Spanish feel amazing.
But do yourself a favor: embrace the difficulty. Embrace the adjustment period where you’re saying, “Lo siento, no entiendo” all the time. (“I’m sorry, I don’t understand.") Embrace the mistakes, as you’ll never forget the awkward moments.
Learning a new language was one of the most fulfilling pieces of that entire journey; it’s a skill that I value every day, and use often.
Ask for help, keep a journal, and learn AS MUCH VOCABULARY AS YOU CAN. Aim for 10-15 new words a day. From there, find your key verbs and phrases, then use your vocab to MadLib those phrases.
But above all: keep trying. You’ll get it!