Communication is Hard
I’d like to think I’m above the fray and don’t fit into the basic stereotypes of an American tourist. Unfortunately, I’d be ignorant to think that is the truth, and a series of recent events have proved such belief. Like most American’s, I traveled to a non-English speaking country and simply expected the whole world would know “a little bit” of English. So far I have learned a “little bit” has a “lotta bit” of deviation. In some cases, it could mean a basic conversation that either helps you reach what you are looking for or at the minimum helps direct you to someone who can. In other cases, a little bit could simply mean “hi” and “thank you.”
While spending time with my buddy and his family in Belgium, I have come across numerous people who I would categorize under the second example. Fortunately, I have my own personal translator. I don’t want to be overly dramatic when I say this, but to a certain degree, he has saved my life.
Woah, Woah, Woah!
That sounds a bit dramatic, don’t you think?
Let me explain.
So there is this pesky little virus going around called COVID-19. You may or may not have heard of it. Anyways, it makes traveling internationally a little more stressful and a lot more confusing. Each country is unique and requires different tests and paperwork to get in and stay in. Via a short and apparently shallow search on Google, I concluded to get into Belgium from Portugal I needed to fill out a passenger locator form as well as show proof of a negative test result. I completed such tasks and trotted into the country with ease.
Five days later, my buddy Giovanni, decided to pick up a call from a number that had been blowing up his phone for a couple of days. A conversation in which I didn’t even attempt to decipher ensuesd. He then looked at me and said:
“So you are supposed to be quarantined until you get a negative test result using the prescription code that they should have emailed you.”
“But I didn’t get an ema…..Oh”
How was I supposed to know that I was supposed to read the emails that are sent completely in French? Does this mean they are going to come to arrest me? In jail, will they speak French to me as I blankly stare into their eyes until I hear one word that somewhat resembles an English word and reply with a simple “yes” or “no?” The possibilities were endless as to how far my neglect to learn any French was going to take me. Fortunately, my personal translator saved my life.
He did the whole french-speaking thing with the operator on the other side of the line and concluded that I was okay to stay and go about my business as long as I got a COVID test ASAP. So I followed orders and got a test.
At the testing site, once again, my lack of French proved to be quite the challenge. Fortunately, Giovanni allowed me to reacquaint myself with my preadolescent years as he communicated on my behalf. I sat and smiled silently while the grown-ups figured out what I had to do. I sat in the chair and finally got to experience the famous brain poke as the thin rod was jammed excessively deep through my nostril. As the services concluded and the nice lady who touched my soul said what I inferred was a goodbye, I finally had the chance to prove I was not indeed mute. Through the tears that involuntarily spewed from my eyes, I decided to finally speak.
“BONJOUR!”
There was a slight giggle amongst all in the room, including me. My one opportunity to prove my “little bit” of French and I managed to THANK someone by saying “HELLO!” A tragedy that will forever keep me humble and remind me of Giovanni’s incredible value to me.
