A Funny Exchange Today on the Street

Language learning is fun. You should never take yourself too seriously or be very proud because you will always either...

1. Say something so mangled that the person hasn't a clue what you just said.
2. Say something slightly off to where you say a word that you didn't intend to say that can make you embarrassed or have to restart your conversation.
3. Or sometimes an interesting combination of #1 and #2.

And if always you feel worried that you will make a mistake then you will clam-up and not want/be scared to speak. That is why we must have our worth rooted in Jesus and not in our language-learning skills.

Anyways...I was leaving the bank today after speaking English and (mostly) French to my banker (she has very good English) explaining a complex issue. I was wishing that I could have explained it better in French without resorting to English for the more complex parts, but, she actually said that she understood in French and that I didn't need to go to English (Yeah!).

When I got out of the bank, I went to the little grocery store right beside the bank to buy some dish soap, M&Ms, and Orangina (only the essentials) and I saw a little lady standing outside the grocery store....begging. Ruth and I have seen her there many times and so today I decided to give her a little bit of change. She started talking to me and to John who was haplessly looking up from his stroller position receiving praise and kisses from her. She was chattering like a monkey in a tree but I decided to just take my time and talk with her until she was finished. At one point I said to John in English, "Say bonjour John, say bonjour!" She looked at me with astonishment and said,

"Wait...you're not French?" I, being amazed that any French person would ever mistake my accent as being a native French speaker said, "No. But can you guess where I'm from by my accent?" I was feeling pretty proud of myself until she guessed (in French), "Spain?" It was not her guess that burst my bubble, but rather the smell of her breath as she forcefully pronounced her "p" revealing (along with her sort of glazed fixed eyes) that she had been drinking a fair amount and fairly recently. After a little more talking we said our "au revoir" and parted.

I started laughing to myself as I walked away (not at the lady and her condition as that is very sad and grieving) but to the fact that (at this point) a French person must guzzle down a couple before they would ever believe that I am a native speaker. Hey...c'est la vie.