Wednesday, October 12, 2011

That's His Name

While I was in my french class I was trying to understand what the teacher was saying like a good student when, all of a sudden, everyone was getting up and moving around. I missed the hint but luckily a guy sat next to me and said he would be my partner. We had to do some kind of assignment about sexism but since communication was almost impossible the Belgian started to write with me overseeing his work. He handed me his work and asked if it was ok with me. As if it was an omen that french vocabulary is not my genre, the first word my eyes landed on was a french word I did not understand. And the curious girl I am, I asked the Belgian what it meant. He gave me a strange look and replied it was his name! My other classmates in close proximity overheard and snickered. The teacher also took some pleasure in my mistake. I could not help but chuckle with my Belgian friend as well because I not only don't understand his french but also his handwriting. All Belgians write in exotic cursive that my brain is not accustomed to, henceforth, I still do not understand the teacher or pupils even after they write down a word I am unfamiliar with when spoken. I am not destined to fail but to succumb to situations that place me in a position of making a fool of myself. Its still fun to learn new french things, like how to talk about sexism in french or the name of my classmate.

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