Tour Guides
Nothing keeps you humble like going to a country where you think you know the language.It is easy enough to stay humble in a country like Hungary (where I know one word) or the Czech Republic (ditto) or Slovakia (zero). Dutch is a tantalizing mixture of words that you might know if you knew how to pronounce them, but I am not even trying. Besides, I had a tour guide who spoke the language.
I know some German, but the only sentence I ever understood there was "Wir haben Kaffee getrunken und Kuchen gegessen." That and a 4 year old boy, after speaking to me in German and not getting the reaction he expected, "Sie verstehen nicht?" Well, I understood THAT! The only German sentence I successfully spoke was referring to his sister, who was meowing: "Sie sprechen Katze." And by successfully, I mean that the other Germans understood what I meant, not necessarily that I was grammatically correct. Or pronounced it right. But they did laugh.
In Paris, reading the signs, I actually understood a lot of what I was reading. The first time I saw the pedestrians cross twice sign was at the airport coming in. I understood most of the ads in the metro. The day there was a fire at the St. Michel train station, I successfully translated the station signboards: "There has been a disruption across all the lines. Please pay attention to the spoken announcements on the trains." I was really proud of myself for that one! So, in Paris all by myself for a day, armed with excessive confidence, I attempted to communicate. I walked up to a place that was selling crepes to take away. The cook said "Bonjour," I replied "Bonjour" and he said "How can I help you?" I guess he did not want to hear his language butchered.
Well, it was a good crepe anyway.
I did ask a lady in a department store "Ou est les toilettes." I got the message across in spite of the mistake. And "Café au Lait" is easy to say, another successful communication.
In the end, you just can't get any better than these tour guides:
Guillaume and his little brother, Nicolas, got me lost because I couldn't get back to their house without them. Plus I got tidbits of information, like you cannot order a croissant in the evening, it just isn't done. (The waiter laughed at me.) And he insisted on picking me up from the train station every day so I did not get lost going through the park and possibly locked in for the night. (surreal moment: being driven around by my exchange student!)
Sebastien got me thoroughly lost. I literally did not know where I was (I had long ago lost track of North, South, East and West). He also kept me out of a riot, got me out of the underground (more than once), got me back on the right train at night (and called Guillaume). We talked. He showed me the American embassy (which the polite Gendarme informed me I could not take a picture of). We walked. He showed me the tower of St. Jacques, probably because of Jack. We talked. He found a café so I could get a croissant at the proper time. He took me to the highest point in Paris. And we walked and talked and drank coffee in the cafés...which is what you are supposed to do in Paris. (Another surreal moment: drinking alcoholic beverages with my exchange student.)
Stephan, on the bottom looking particularly pleased with himself, got me lost all over the Netherlands, to the point that I was continually asking him if we were on the right train. (Rotterdam (where it poured down rain), Leiden, Dordrecht (to go to his parent's restaurant from the bus stop you climb down a hill, cross a highway, walk along a canal in the industrial section of town, are you sure about this Stephan? and it is late at night), Roosendaal, and Vlissingen (where neither of us had been before)) And we somehow always made the train on time. And we never stopped talking. (surreal moment: watching him care for his baby sister.)
Without them I would not have had so much fun!
I'm going back.
posted by Marion @ 8:55 PM
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