How do I know I won't accidentally poison myself by adding detergent to my cereal?
With six years of French classes under my belt, you'd think reading labels would be easy. You are wrong.
A few days ago I went in for my visa appointment. The guard said, "Bonjour." I replied in kind, because in stressful situations my brain reverts to mirroring. I once entered a store and welcomed the saleswoman who had just greeted me.
Back to the guard. I thought this would be the end of it, but the terrifying snowball of simple conversation had begun its roll. He continued, "Ca va?" This shouldn't be too hard, I thought, this is French I stuff. But while I had the brainpower to think that entire sentence in the two second conversational pause, this is what came out of my mouth, "Ca va. Et tu?"
Et tu.
I had momentarily forgotten this was not a production of Julius Caesar.
I've been worried about my linguistic abilities of late. Alternating to a new language, whose word for baby seal, phoque, offends me, is probably not a good idea (imagine the racy soap opera that would be my life as a French arctic conservationist). I can barely handle English.
A few months ago, I asked my sisters if they were hungry.
Input: Are you hungry? Output: Ya huh?
I don't give a phoque.
Well okay, maybe one.
While volunteering for the LA Film Festival this year, I spent several hours opening theater doors. You learn a lot about people when you open doors for them, such as how embarrassed they are about having doors opened for them or how little etiquette their parents taught them or even the subjectivity of etiquette because what if thanking someone for opening a door isn't offensive somewhere in the world. I mean, some cultures have never created a wheel, because it was never necessary.
Just let that sink in.
Responding to thanks is always nerve-wracking for me. Usually I just nod and hum two notes - Mm hmm - that I assume convey both humility and acceptance of their gratitude, because to do more would be asking too much of my anxiety-ridden mind. But here I was, a representative of the film festival. I had to put more effort into it, so I alternated between, "You're welcome," which Barney the dinosaur taught me, and "No problem," which I learned in middle school was what the cool kids said. The following is not an exact transcription.
You're welcome.
No problem.
You're welcome.
No problem.
You're welcome.
No problem.
You're welcome.
No problem.
You're welcome.
No problem.
Your problem.
Help.
