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Feb. 6th, 2018
Language! It ain't always easy.
Feb. 6th, 2018 03:49 pmLanguage! It ain't always easy. Shamelessly Stolen from a lost Twitter link by 
AndrewDucker
Two language ain't easy stories:
Once when the 70s were young, a bunch of us went to the Black Sand Beach on Santorini. Things the guidebooks didn't tell us: the temperature of the black sand in the Greek sun is too hot to walk on, let alone lay down a towel and wait for it to cool off enough to lay down. Also, sand fleas don't seem to mind the heat at all. After a while, we gave up and started back to the main town on the crater rim. We came across an old town that had mostly been destroyed by an earthquake in the 50s. It looked like a Fellini set, with stairways that went nowhere, and various bits still standing. We found a taverna and popped in. We were the big excitement of the afternoon for the few residents, and they kept trying to talk with us. We had English, French, Italian, Latin amongst my friends, but all stuck out. I could speak German, and a light went on. One of the guys ran home and came back with a WWII Occupation Manual with German and Greek in tables. We spent the long afternoon using the book to 'talk.'
In France a few years ago, an English woman was buying croissants at the second best bakery in Azay-le-Rideau, "Do you have jam to go?" she said. When the young French woman working the counter looked confused, she said "DO YOU HAVE JAM TO GO?" considerable more slowly and with more volume in the universal approach to get those people who don't understand English to get the point. I was also at the counter and thought there's a cognate, after a few seconds, I spit out "Confiture?" The French girl pointed to a line of jam jars on the wall. None "to go" alas.
AndrewDuckerTwo language ain't easy stories:
Once when the 70s were young, a bunch of us went to the Black Sand Beach on Santorini. Things the guidebooks didn't tell us: the temperature of the black sand in the Greek sun is too hot to walk on, let alone lay down a towel and wait for it to cool off enough to lay down. Also, sand fleas don't seem to mind the heat at all. After a while, we gave up and started back to the main town on the crater rim. We came across an old town that had mostly been destroyed by an earthquake in the 50s. It looked like a Fellini set, with stairways that went nowhere, and various bits still standing. We found a taverna and popped in. We were the big excitement of the afternoon for the few residents, and they kept trying to talk with us. We had English, French, Italian, Latin amongst my friends, but all stuck out. I could speak German, and a light went on. One of the guys ran home and came back with a WWII Occupation Manual with German and Greek in tables. We spent the long afternoon using the book to 'talk.'
In France a few years ago, an English woman was buying croissants at the second best bakery in Azay-le-Rideau, "Do you have jam to go?" she said. When the young French woman working the counter looked confused, she said "DO YOU HAVE JAM TO GO?" considerable more slowly and with more volume in the universal approach to get those people who don't understand English to get the point. I was also at the counter and thought there's a cognate, after a few seconds, I spit out "Confiture?" The French girl pointed to a line of jam jars on the wall. None "to go" alas.