In the early days of advocating for the Green Line to Somerville, I used Google translate to go from English to Portuguese, had a Portuguese neighbor vet the the flyer with my name and number on it, and posted it all over Union Square. It turns out the the Portuguese word for bus station translates to whorehouse in Brazilian. Luckily I didn't get any phone calls before I had a chance to fix it.
I hear you all too well. The only time I was in Spain, a local man invited my friend and me over for tea. As time went on, I wasn't sure if he was still enjoying our company, or too polite to tell us it was time to leave. I wanted to say, "I'm afraid of bothering you..." As you probably know, in romance languages the construction is "I have fear." And you may also know, the word for "fear" in Spanish is perilously close to the word for "shit." Do I have to tell you which one I chose?
I enjoyed reading about your struggles with a foreign language as I once had a dream to learn French; it sounds so fabulous (although Spanish does too), except on my tongue...I did knuckle down for a couple of years and go back to Uni to learn it. There were no language labs just classroom tuition twice a week, then a year later I had tutoring from a genuine French tourist for six months.
Then I went to Paris. I'd walk in the restaurant and be greeted, in French. I'd reply, "bonjour!" and they'd instantly revert to English and offer me a menu.
Darn...or rather Merde!
So it's kinda fitting that I had no idea some people don't pronounce the "t" in Bergamot...
I will never look at a pig or Harvard Square again without laughing hysterically. BTW, I'll also never look at a c*nt clutch without thinking fondly of you. Keep on writing, Marjie.....you are fabulous at it!!!
I read your story with much delight. I used to have a knack for getting the right pronunciation of the "foreign" words when I studied Spanish, German, Mandarin Chinese and Lakota (Sioux Indian dialect), but as I tried to study and learn French, I seem to have lost that discerning ability. And the strange things you remember from language classes ("Susie spelt die Violine" Susie plays the violin, or "Mi vaca esta en la cuarto de bano" My cow is in the bathroom) will certainly NEVER be deftly used in polite conversation. Loved your poem, too! I hope to read you more often.
SIXTY YEARS you have been hiding this poésia under a bushel. Gotta say, I'm finding your dotage most rewarding!
In the early days of advocating for the Green Line to Somerville, I used Google translate to go from English to Portuguese, had a Portuguese neighbor vet the the flyer with my name and number on it, and posted it all over Union Square. It turns out the the Portuguese word for bus station translates to whorehouse in Brazilian. Luckily I didn't get any phone calls before I had a chance to fix it.
I hear you all too well. The only time I was in Spain, a local man invited my friend and me over for tea. As time went on, I wasn't sure if he was still enjoying our company, or too polite to tell us it was time to leave. I wanted to say, "I'm afraid of bothering you..." As you probably know, in romance languages the construction is "I have fear." And you may also know, the word for "fear" in Spanish is perilously close to the word for "shit." Do I have to tell you which one I chose?
I enjoyed reading about your struggles with a foreign language as I once had a dream to learn French; it sounds so fabulous (although Spanish does too), except on my tongue...I did knuckle down for a couple of years and go back to Uni to learn it. There were no language labs just classroom tuition twice a week, then a year later I had tutoring from a genuine French tourist for six months.
Then I went to Paris. I'd walk in the restaurant and be greeted, in French. I'd reply, "bonjour!" and they'd instantly revert to English and offer me a menu.
Darn...or rather Merde!
So it's kinda fitting that I had no idea some people don't pronounce the "t" in Bergamot...
Oh this SO describes my own travails with learning Spanish....
I will never look at a pig or Harvard Square again without laughing hysterically. BTW, I'll also never look at a c*nt clutch without thinking fondly of you. Keep on writing, Marjie.....you are fabulous at it!!!
I rarely laugh out loud when reading something: omg I was laughing. Will never forget now the word cogemos
I read your story with much delight. I used to have a knack for getting the right pronunciation of the "foreign" words when I studied Spanish, German, Mandarin Chinese and Lakota (Sioux Indian dialect), but as I tried to study and learn French, I seem to have lost that discerning ability. And the strange things you remember from language classes ("Susie spelt die Violine" Susie plays the violin, or "Mi vaca esta en la cuarto de bano" My cow is in the bathroom) will certainly NEVER be deftly used in polite conversation. Loved your poem, too! I hope to read you more often.