Your husband sounds like my kind of guy. I often make an attempt at some small communication in the language of the venue and although my wife sometimes cringes, I always get a smile.
I think it was a TikTok video that encouraged me to always use a person's name when possible, like at the checkout or anywhere else you see a name tag. I'll just say, "Thanks, Jim!" or whatever. Same idea: creating just a little bit of connection. Can't say for certain whether it's appreciated but it's a habit now so I keep doing it. :)
This post made my day 😁😁 Mostly because I can totally relate from back in my travel days. Nothing tops human connections with people of different cultures!
Thanks for sharing this Heather. What a great start to my day!
I'm the guy who drives around with "Wash Me" written in Russian or Azerbaijani on my dusty back window. My kids were born in Africa, but we moved home when they were toddlers. It wasn't until we left for another big adventure in the former Soviet Union that they started learning languages. My wife hired a tutor for Russian language lessons from a former university Russian teacher, so my daughter has good grammar and a posh Moscow accent. My son was too impatient for all that, and he learned his Russian from the office drivers and maintenance guy, so he has more of a truck driver accent and grammar that my daughter constantly corrects. They both learned street Azerbaijani from their friends and are fairly fluent.
Back home, they use their language skills to eavesdrop (there are many Russian immigrants in the Northwest), buy things at a local Russian store, and have amazing serendipitous conversations with people who are shocked, then happy to chat with someone in Idaho who can speak their languages. They also use their skills to argue with or insult one another or to make plans they want to keep to themselves.
And because of her love of languages, during my daughter's university years, she studied Arabic, and also finished a Masters in speech therapy.
In the springtime here in our valley, a couple of bands of sheep arrive with about 2000 sheep in each band. The sheepherders, traditionally Basque, now come mostly from Peru. I became friends with Pablo, who has worked here half a year for the past twelve years, six years ago and we discovered I visited his home village several times, which created an instant bond. Any time I see him with the sheep on a cold, frosty winter morning, I drive to the coffee shop and buy him a cafe' con leche y sucre that leaves him with a huge smile, and me,too.
When I saw the photos, I could actually SMELL Colima's, like I was walking into the place. ¡Que tan sabrosa! Such nostalgia, so many memories of time spent in Jalisco. I would probably eat there every week were I in your town! Thanks for stirring this reverie, Heather. And kudos to your dear husband who understands that it is the EFFORT that makes the connection, not the expertise in the language! Lovely piece.
Great post and so relevant. Any effort to step into someone else's world certainly seems like a generous gesture. I too appreciate what you all are doing esp. your husband.
Earlier this morning I bought a quart of milk for $4 at our small local Mexican food store and deli - but it was worth $4 because I ran into a new cashier. He knows as little English as I know Spanish and we went back and forth each in our own second language - both enjoying the challenge. Generically, my favorite line for Mexican restaurants is uttered to the server after I've emptied my plate - Es desmasiado tarde para decir que no me gusta la comida? (Is it too late to say I don't like the food? It always gets a laugh regardless of how busy they are. BTW, I do the same in English for the rest of my rare restaurant visits.
Love this! Hubby is the same way. He has to work extra hard tho to not take on a British accent if he's talking to a Brit. Haha.
We both learned French growing up but couldn't use it is Paris. That beautiful Mandela quote does not pertain to Parisians. If you can't speak French perfectly, don't bother.
And now we must learn Italian. Our daughter speaks fluently and is marrying an Italian in Sept.
Language is so important and when we speak in another's language, it brings added connection no matter how bad the accent. I speak a little Spanish, and the woman who has helped me raise our kids and keep our house semi-clean is from El Salvador. Her English is excellent, but I often reach out in Spanish with a short sentence, which always makes her smile.
We live in France, have done for a year. We are still in the shallow waters of 'transactional' French with aspirations to roll fluidly around the marché chatting to all our local stall holders. Occasionally we surprise ourselves, and them, with a turn of phrase. We will get better this year. And the year after. Onwards. Allez
I remember one of my friends saying "I only know enough Spanish to get me into a fight at Taco Bell." I gave her side-eye before busting a gut laughing, because, well... it's Taco Bell. America's version of cheap-as-fuck Mexican food, not REAL Mexican food. That place looks pretty authentic. To answer your questions:
What language(s) do you speak? I only speak English. With a British accent. Yes, there's a story there and if you dig in the weeds on my blog, you'll find it. LOL
Where could you try speaking another language near you this week? If I knew how to speak an Asian language, I'd try it out at the 2-day Asian Festival going on this weekend in my hometown. I love both the Chinese and Japanese languages (from watching all those martial arts movies, I guess. LOL)
Hi Heather. My father gifted me his passion for languages. It's a part of our long, long family history. Having pretty comprehensively drifted around Europe, +2yrs in Arabia, I found kindness everywhere.... the principle key was always language attempts. My own passion is the linked etymology of older EU tongues. I have so many stories yet to post... Fortunately I have another 311 years to do them.... But that's another story . Kind regards and peace, Maurice
Thanks for subscribing Heather, Children of the Aftermath, then t'Otherwith boy, is me growing up in autistic confusion, which I now embrace as a blessing of creativity. Samuel Savourie was my Dad's forged cover in the French Resistance. Coming soon is Big City Boy, and Great Gramps who Built a fleet of canal boats for his sons to run. Hope you enjoy ....
Your husband sounds like my kind of guy. I often make an attempt at some small communication in the language of the venue and although my wife sometimes cringes, I always get a smile.
I think it was a TikTok video that encouraged me to always use a person's name when possible, like at the checkout or anywhere else you see a name tag. I'll just say, "Thanks, Jim!" or whatever. Same idea: creating just a little bit of connection. Can't say for certain whether it's appreciated but it's a habit now so I keep doing it. :)
This post made my day 😁😁 Mostly because I can totally relate from back in my travel days. Nothing tops human connections with people of different cultures!
Thanks for sharing this Heather. What a great start to my day!
I'm the guy who drives around with "Wash Me" written in Russian or Azerbaijani on my dusty back window. My kids were born in Africa, but we moved home when they were toddlers. It wasn't until we left for another big adventure in the former Soviet Union that they started learning languages. My wife hired a tutor for Russian language lessons from a former university Russian teacher, so my daughter has good grammar and a posh Moscow accent. My son was too impatient for all that, and he learned his Russian from the office drivers and maintenance guy, so he has more of a truck driver accent and grammar that my daughter constantly corrects. They both learned street Azerbaijani from their friends and are fairly fluent.
Back home, they use their language skills to eavesdrop (there are many Russian immigrants in the Northwest), buy things at a local Russian store, and have amazing serendipitous conversations with people who are shocked, then happy to chat with someone in Idaho who can speak their languages. They also use their skills to argue with or insult one another or to make plans they want to keep to themselves.
And because of her love of languages, during my daughter's university years, she studied Arabic, and also finished a Masters in speech therapy.
In the springtime here in our valley, a couple of bands of sheep arrive with about 2000 sheep in each band. The sheepherders, traditionally Basque, now come mostly from Peru. I became friends with Pablo, who has worked here half a year for the past twelve years, six years ago and we discovered I visited his home village several times, which created an instant bond. Any time I see him with the sheep on a cold, frosty winter morning, I drive to the coffee shop and buy him a cafe' con leche y sucre that leaves him with a huge smile, and me,too.
Thanks ... language is a great connector and it doesn't take much to spark the connection.
When I saw the photos, I could actually SMELL Colima's, like I was walking into the place. ¡Que tan sabrosa! Such nostalgia, so many memories of time spent in Jalisco. I would probably eat there every week were I in your town! Thanks for stirring this reverie, Heather. And kudos to your dear husband who understands that it is the EFFORT that makes the connection, not the expertise in the language! Lovely piece.
Great post and so relevant. Any effort to step into someone else's world certainly seems like a generous gesture. I too appreciate what you all are doing esp. your husband.
Earlier this morning I bought a quart of milk for $4 at our small local Mexican food store and deli - but it was worth $4 because I ran into a new cashier. He knows as little English as I know Spanish and we went back and forth each in our own second language - both enjoying the challenge. Generically, my favorite line for Mexican restaurants is uttered to the server after I've emptied my plate - Es desmasiado tarde para decir que no me gusta la comida? (Is it too late to say I don't like the food? It always gets a laugh regardless of how busy they are. BTW, I do the same in English for the rest of my rare restaurant visits.
Love this! Hubby is the same way. He has to work extra hard tho to not take on a British accent if he's talking to a Brit. Haha.
We both learned French growing up but couldn't use it is Paris. That beautiful Mandela quote does not pertain to Parisians. If you can't speak French perfectly, don't bother.
And now we must learn Italian. Our daughter speaks fluently and is marrying an Italian in Sept.
Language is so important and when we speak in another's language, it brings added connection no matter how bad the accent. I speak a little Spanish, and the woman who has helped me raise our kids and keep our house semi-clean is from El Salvador. Her English is excellent, but I often reach out in Spanish with a short sentence, which always makes her smile.
I like the sound of Bill. Nice fella.
We live in France, have done for a year. We are still in the shallow waters of 'transactional' French with aspirations to roll fluidly around the marché chatting to all our local stall holders. Occasionally we surprise ourselves, and them, with a turn of phrase. We will get better this year. And the year after. Onwards. Allez
I remember one of my friends saying "I only know enough Spanish to get me into a fight at Taco Bell." I gave her side-eye before busting a gut laughing, because, well... it's Taco Bell. America's version of cheap-as-fuck Mexican food, not REAL Mexican food. That place looks pretty authentic. To answer your questions:
What language(s) do you speak? I only speak English. With a British accent. Yes, there's a story there and if you dig in the weeds on my blog, you'll find it. LOL
Where could you try speaking another language near you this week? If I knew how to speak an Asian language, I'd try it out at the 2-day Asian Festival going on this weekend in my hometown. I love both the Chinese and Japanese languages (from watching all those martial arts movies, I guess. LOL)
Hi Heather. My father gifted me his passion for languages. It's a part of our long, long family history. Having pretty comprehensively drifted around Europe, +2yrs in Arabia, I found kindness everywhere.... the principle key was always language attempts. My own passion is the linked etymology of older EU tongues. I have so many stories yet to post... Fortunately I have another 311 years to do them.... But that's another story . Kind regards and peace, Maurice
Thanks for subscribing Heather, Children of the Aftermath, then t'Otherwith boy, is me growing up in autistic confusion, which I now embrace as a blessing of creativity. Samuel Savourie was my Dad's forged cover in the French Resistance. Coming soon is Big City Boy, and Great Gramps who Built a fleet of canal boats for his sons to run. Hope you enjoy ....