I receive a professor who comes to get to know the university. We share research projects and internationalization opportunities. We communicate in English, the language we have in common. Her English level is low, according to her; mine, not. We understand each other because we listen to each other, also, with our eyes: we unconsciously use non-verbal strategies; when she can't find the word she's looking for, between the two of us we find synonyms that don't quite fit, but the nuances help us to understand each other. The communicative act is calm, fun, almost playful. She relaxes and lets herself go linguistically, experiments with English, makes mistakes that do not impede communication, we exchange experiences and desires that require a high level of language that she does not have, but she feels comfortable. Between the two of us, we create a calm space for language, for multilingual well-being, so that the meeting is effective.We say goodbye.

At the fruit shop on Calle Mayor: "How much is it?" asks the woman in front of me.There are four cone eighty-five", the cashier answers. She, holding his gaze, smiles: "Four eighty-five, right?", giving him the money. "Yes, let him have it Have a nice day!", the caixer said. "Thank you, too," she replied.