My Dad always says that Venezuela requires a lot of explaining to gringos.

When he was a student, he taught English in Caracas. Though he had already taught his class how to sing Beatles songs with convincing Liverpudlian accents, he himself struggled with the distinctive Spanish, especially the local sayings.

One day, while getting a haircut, the barber asked him “quieres un cepillo de dientes” (would you like a toothbrush?) He reckoned it was a bit odd the barber was offering one, but was skint and accepted it without skipping a beat.