France Tales

A funny thing happened to me at the dog park. Yes there is a little park 1/4 block from our new apt. There is a dog run area. I went to the dog run with Kika. I get to practice my French with the locals. No one is rude to me regarding my language skills so I often engage in conversations that quickly turn deeper than I can really manage in French.

“Vous etre Iranian?”

“Non, je suis Americain.” I said but I was thinking well I do like a nice Persian rug, has she seen our apartment? We do have some nice rugs but the nicest one really comes from Afghanistan. Do I look Afghani? Has she been spying on us? Maybe this stream of consciousness is why I didn’t understand what she said next.

“Blah blah blah and other things I didn’t understand in French.” she said.

I think she was saying that if I am American then I am certainly not Iranian. I think she was referring to the current political standoff. I hope she didn’t think I was offended that she thought I was Iranian. I used to get Mexican, Puerto Rican, Brasilian, but I have never gotten Iranian before. I guess here in France they will think I look Middle Eastern somehow.

“Ah Bon, di donc, se vrai, vraiment, tout a fait, pas de tout.” I used probably all the conversation fillers I knew. Once a conversation goes to far in one direction I can’t exactly then state that I don’t speak French very well or turn around and announce “A bientot”. I have to stick it out and try to keep up appearances. Luckily she had to go to work and I did not. Problem solved.