English is not Desiree’s second language. It is her third. Even with that, she has an excellent grasp of English. Her vocabulary is surprisingly expansive. But there are those times—typically, when we are texting—where I think I am going left in a conversation and she thinks I am going right.
I tend to create confusion in
one of three ways: by joking, using slang, or using idioms and expressions.
I can understand how my jokes
don’t always translate. My jokes often
crash land in East Helena, Montana. No
surprise if they crash and burn in the Philippines.
Slang and some of our
expressions are something of a “hit and miss” proposition. Sometimes they fly. Sometimes,
not so much. A seemingly quick and easy
phrase I throw out there might set our conversion to wobbling and then send it spiraling
down.
I may, for example, say, while
talking about something I am trying to get done, “I am dancing as fast as I
can.”
The next few minutes will
become a flurry of explanatory texts beginning with: “No, I am not dancing here.”
Our conversations are sometimes twisting and turning adventures. I have concluded we don’t have a language in common so much as a one we share.
— Mitchell Hegman
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