Last night, while reading my book (yes, wearing all my warm
finery), I came to a paragraph where Julia Childs describes her sister getting
rear-ended by a Parisian driver. In total indignation she whips the car into
park, sticks her head up through the sunroof and angrily screams at him, “ Ce
merde-monsieur a justement craché dans ma derrière!”. I get what she was trying to say but what she actually said was “ this shit-man just spat out
into my butt!”
And so it goes. Trying to learn a language and being only
partway there causes all sorts of these continual language mishaps. At first you’re mortified by your
mistakes, but eventually you learn to take them in stride and laugh them off.
You have to. They happen every day.
Yesterday I was telling a friend a little story, in French,
about John Travolta flying a jet to Haiti to deliver food and medical
supplies…. and a few quack doctors. I never got to the quack doctors part
because we got stuck on the first few sentences.
My story was interrupted as my friend cocked his head
quizzically, and said “Vraiement? (Truly?)
Yes, really!
Mais, je ne comprend pas pourquoi! (I don’t understand why.)
Because he was trying to help, I suppose.
Non! C’est vrai?
Yes it’s true…why would I lie to you? He’s a pilot. He flew
his jet. Nice, yes, but not that
unbelievable.
This ping-pong game continued for several minutes until I
finally realized what I had said and why all the skepticism. I had actually
told my friend that John Travolta had stolen a jetliner in Florida and flew it to Haiti. And my friend was a little
stunned by this news, particularly since he had heard nothing about it.
Last week I was happily bouncing around because I had gone
all-out and purchased a new, heavy-duty frying pan. I excitedly told a friend,
again in French, that I had bought myself a present…a new, big, strong….
chicken.
