My ability to speak Spanish – and to speak it well – was one important factor in my choice of fieldwork location. The capacity to speak the local language, it has been argued, is the ‘centrepiece of successful field research’ (Veeck 2001: 34). Similarly, even if the researcher’s language proficiency is not perfect, participants will respect researchers who make the effort to ‘penetrate their way of speaking’ (Gade 2001: 377). Although the literature makes it sound relatively straightforward, in practice, conducting research in a second language can be difficult and frustrating. It can, however, also be incredibly rewarding and inevitably enriches our field experiences. Closely related to language is the issue of representation, and while all researchers grapple with the issue of how to represent voices in qualitative research, this becomes decidedly hazier when research is conducted in a second language. As Temple (2005) suggests, there is no single correct way for researchers to represent people who speak in different languages. Yet this raises the question of how we reconcile the tension arising from the fact that often the operational (second) language of fieldwork differs from the (home) language of final publication or monograph. The choices we make about representation have political, epistemological, and ethical implications. These issues aside, overseas fieldwork characteristically demands local language proficiency or the use of an interpreter, meaning that the researcher may face a plethora of additional practical and ethical considerations, difficulties, and anxieties. This chapter reflects on some of the linguistic challenges I encountered during field research in Nicaragua and the associated ethical issues. It focuses on three

interrelated challenges of field research in a second language: the process of learning and becoming proficient in the field; moving and communicating between the different ‘worlds’ of research; and issues of translation and representation once the fieldwork phase is over.