Crossing the language barrier

[jefmcg]

I'm sure we all have tales of communicating with only a few words from a phrase book, sign language, 2 years at school etc. Let's share stories of successful communications (or - indeed - unsuccessful ones), when you don't really know enough of a language to expect to communicate.

I'll start...

 

[jefmcg]

I was in northern France. I found the locals didn't speak much English, and didn't expect travellers to speak much French.

I got pretty bad food poisoning (turns out that a cafe shouldn't store uncooked croque monsieurs piled up on a tray at room temperature. Who knew?). Anyway, I was pretty sick for a day, and seeking some pharmaceutical alleviation. This was before data roaming and Google translate. So as my partner drove to the nearest pharmacy, occasionally stopping for me to throw up , I practiced my sentence in my head. I think this is what I said. I haven't checked the spelling.

Bonjour. Je mange quelquefois, et maintenant, je suis malade.

That worked. She was all over it. She asked me followup questions that may have well been in Russian. Two years of HS French in Australia doesn't include the words for "vomit" or "diarrhoea". I looked at her blankly, and what followed was the most disgusting charades I have ever participated in. But suitable drugs were acquired and my symptoms were relieved.

 

[stalagmike]

I was once in a bar in Barcelona and after ordering a couple of beers 'dos cerveza por favor' for some reason I finished off my exchange with the barmaid with a cheery ' obrigado '. To which she replied (in English) ' how did you know I was Brazilian?'
I said ' Erm...I didn't , I thought I was speaking Spanish' .

 

[PeteXXX]

Mid 70’s, I got off a delapidated old bus near Tiberius, hoping I was somewhere near my destination, Degania.. With not a word of Hebrew in my vocabulary, I asked a passing local (probably a Druse Arab) for directions.
Our only common language was French.
It worked.

 

[JtB]

I arrived at Santiago airport 35 years ago in the Spanish region of Galicia to visit a Spanish girl who lived about 50 miles away in a town called Pontevedra. We’d met for the day 2 years earlier in her home town and since then we’d regularly written to each other. But because she couldn’t speak English and I couldn’t speak Spanish then I’d needed the help of a Panamanian friend to translate the letters from and to Spanish.

Anyway, Galicia is a region of Spain where very little English is spoken so luckily an English speaking couple I’d met on the plane gave me a lift to the main bus station in Santiago de Compostela. Armed with a phrase book I then managed to say to someone in Spanish that “I go to Pontevedra, where is bus?” whereupon he guided me to the bus and I guess instructed me to get on.

When I’d visited Pontevedra for the day 2 years earlier with my Panamanian friend I’d remembered that Pontevedra wasn’t that big, so as I was traveling along through the Galician countryside on the bus I kept keen watch for the road sign indicating my arrival in Pontevedra (I didn’t want to miss the Pontevedra bus stop). What I didn’t know however is that Pontevedra is not just the name of the town but it’s also the name of the province. So when the bus eventually passed the Pontevedra road sign and I stood up to get off at the next stop, unknown to me the bus had only just entered the province while the town itself was still 30 miles away. Anyway as I was standing up, there were 2 nuns sat a couple of rows behind and they were both shaking their heads at me so I sat down again. At each subsequent bus stop I looked around and the 2 nuns both shook their heads at me. Eventually the bus arrived at the central bus station in Pontevedra and when I looked around this time the 2 nuns were both nodding, so I stood up, said “Gracias” and got off the bus. How they knew where I was heading I have no idea because the only word that passed between us was my “Gracias” as I was getting off the bus.

 

[alicat]

Nice one @JtB. How did you get on with the girl?

 

[Fnaar]

I arrived at Santiago airport 35 years ago in the Spanish region of Galicia to visit a Spanish girl who lived about 50 miles away in a town called Pontevedra. We’d met for the day 2 years earlier in her home town and since then we’d regularly written to each other. But because she couldn’t speak English and I couldn’t speak Spanish then I’d needed the help of a Panamanian friend to translate the letters from and to Spanish.

Anyway, Galicia is a region of Spain where very little English is spoken so luckily an English speaking couple I’d met on the plane gave me a lift to the main bus station in Santiago de Compostela. Armed with a phrase book I then managed to say to someone in Spanish that “I go to Pontevedra, where is bus?” whereupon he guided me to the bus and I guess instructed me to get on.

When I’d visited Pontevedra for the day 2 years earlier with my Panamanian friend I’d remembered that Pontevedra wasn’t that big, so as I was traveling along through the Galician countryside on the bus I kept keen watch for the road sign indicating my arrival in Pontevedra (I didn’t want to miss the Pontevedra bus stop). What I didn’t know however is that Pontevedra is not just the name of the town but it’s also the name of the province. So when the bus eventually passed the Pontevedra road sign and I stood up to get off at the next stop, unknown to me the bus had only just entered the province while the town itself was still 30 miles away. Anyway as I was standing up, there were 2 nuns sat a couple of rows behind and they were both shaking their heads at me so I sat down again. At each subsequent bus stop I looked around and the 2 nuns both shook their heads at me. Eventually the bus arrived at the central bus station in Pontevedra and when I looked around this time the 2 nuns were both nodding, so I stood up, said “Gracias” and got off the bus. How they knew where I was heading I have no idea because the only word that passed between us was my “Gracias” as I was getting off the bus.

Think we've mentioned this before, but I lived in Pontevedra for 2 years

 

[Fnaar]

Spain, 1980s, a butcher's shop.

The intention: "Medio kilo de ternera, por favor" (Half a kilo of veal, please)
How it came out: "Medio kilo de ternura, por favor" (Half a kilo of tenderness, please)

 

[MarkF]

My Spanish is pretty good but I get confused with masculine and feminine suffixes, especially when "in drink". Told a woman to leave me alone because my boyfriend was waiting for me.......... novio/novia. Told a policeman I was a church, "Inglesia" instead of English "Ingles".....I am Irish anyway. Worst was in Barcelona when I'd cycled past the factory (in Badalona) where they make the Anis del Mono liqueur, that must have been on my mind when I burnt my upper hands and asked the chemist for "Cream for my monkeys".......monos/manos.

 

[ColinJ]

I remember pro cyclist Víctor Hugo Peña getting very annoyed with an English-speaking interviewer pronouncing his name as 'pene'. He explained that it was Spanish for 'penis'!

 

[steveindenmark]

A topical one.

We have come to Geraardsbergen in Belgium to watch the start of the Transcontinental Race. I was trying to explain to our French speaking host where we were going to no avail. I thought it was my pronounciation as Geraardsbergen is 10 minutes away. It turns out the French part of Belgium call it Gramont and refuse point blank to recognise any other name for it.

 

[pawl]

I was once in a bar in Barcelona and after ordering a couple of beers 'dos cerveza por favor' for some reason I finished off my exchange with the barmaid with a cheery ' obrigado '. To which she replied (in English) ' how did you know I was Brazilian?'
I said ' Erm...I didn't , I thought I was speaking Spanish' .

Erm Portuguese

 

[deptfordmarmoset]

The single biggest thing that made me learn French seriously was when a couple of horse riders stopped for a beer at the auberge where I was working. When they started to set off again, one of the riders shouted a command at his horse which the horse understood but I didn't. It's a rather humiliating shock to realise that a horse could be better at French than I was. And I resolved to really cross the language barrier at that moment.

The word, by the way, was recule.

 

[Houthakker]

Many years ago I spent a forthnight in Bayonne in SW france on a training course. Whilst there a crown on one of my teeth fell out. This had happened before and my dentist had told me that in an emergency it could be refitted using polyfiller until I could get back to him.
Cue one trip to the hardware store with no French skills and no phrase book. Came away empty handed but the closest we got was when the shop owner came through from the back with a 25kg sack of cement on his shoulder!

 

[Cycleops]

Puts me in mind of the Monty Python Hungarian phrase book sketch;


View: https://youtu.be/3JXlKq9zt9s