Book club was a hoot. Part of our kitchen discussion – you know, before everyone finally settles down – was about what we did over the holidays. One neighbor mentioned they went to Spain to visit their college daughter.
We talked about making do in a foreign land. My guest explained three of the four members of their family are quite fluent in Spanish. Still, I suggested, it was easy to get around if you only make a strong attempt. Almost everyone in Europe knows English and will get you to a bathroom in an emergency.
Oh, she continued, really it was more than that. That fourth member of the family thought he (ok, that was a hint) was holding his own, but every time he opened his mouth, something really awful came out. Like the time the chamber maid went running from the room. She still doesn’t know what was said.
She gave an example. They were in Spain for New Year’s Day. He went around telling every one “Feliz Ano Nuevo.” Oh, yes. Happy New Anus. The correct approach, she explained, was Feliz Año Nuevo.
He whipped this phrase around repeatedly for the day. There were varying responses to his greeting.
Now I probably don’t need to explain that at this point we, the seven members of my kitchen, are howling. Laughing so hard half of us are crossing our legs.
That’s when the quiet new member peeps, “and I suppose he said it very loudly.” Two more minutes on how men are very likely to raise their voice when attempting a foreign language.
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Indeed a fine time was had by all. We even talked about the book! More on that soon.
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