IN DAYS GAN BEI

When traveling to a foreign country, many Americans don’t attempt to speak the native language. They rely on the premise that “Everyone speaks English.” I, on the other hand, make an attempt---feeble as it may be---to learn a few words, so I can skid and slide into the culture as best I can. My trick is that if I can’t come up with a word or two in a foreign language, I just make them up. I have discovered that most of the time when I invent a few words, people assume that I am mumbling, or they don’t really listen anyway, so it’s usually not a problem.

However, several years ago, I was an honored dinner guest at an elegant home in Mexico City. It was a rather large crowd, and the host was the only person (other than I) who spoke English. Luckily, I had my handy-dandy English/Spanish phrase book with me, and I was able to nod and smile a lot, but unfortunately, at dinner, a woman sitting next to me asked me a direct question---just when the host was called out of the room for a telephone call.

Suddenly, the room fell silent and everyone looked at me expecting an answer in Spanish. I thought she had asked me a question about my son, so after flipping through the phrase book (which was no help at all) I valiantly attempted an answer. Whatever I said left very little oxygen in the room, because it brought on a universal, shocked intake of breath around the table. Happily, after looking at each other, and then seeing my bewildered expression, everyone burst into gales of laughter. To this day, I don’t know what I said, but the hostess spilled a dish of flan into my lap. I think it was an accident.

In Barcelona, I ordered tapas in Spanish and was served a dish of fried critters that were delicious, if you could avoid looking into their tiny eyes. The problem with learning only a smattering of several languages is that I tend to mix them up. If I can’t remember a word in French or Italian, I fall back on my lame Spanish and hope that the romance languages are close enough to soften the heart of my listener. I can speak kindergarten German, and have found out that German sounds best when you have postnasal drip.

Japanese is easy, because if you keep bowing and handing out business cards, you never have to say a word. Only two languages have a single word that means “Hello, Goodbye and Peace”---“Aloha” in Hawaiian and “Shalom” in Hebrew. I always suspected that Hawaiians are the lost tribe of Israel. Everyone understands you in Russia when you shout “Vodka!”

For me, foreign languages have always been a grand adventure. I figure that even when people speak the same language, too often they have trouble communicating, so I might as well try a few more along the way.

Esther Blumenfeld (Skall! Prost! Salut! Gan Bei! L’Chaim! Kampai! Noroc! Nostrovia!)