The joys of language-learning (and angry crowds)

It’s not easy. Especially in a language with 4 different d’s AND 4 different t’s (I know!). Mistakes are to be expected, right? There really isn’t much to be done except embrace these wonderfully embarrassing moments as the gifts they really are: priceless entertainment.

Like the time Andrea, attempting to ask our tailor and a friend if they were family, politely asked ”are you animals?” Or a few weeks ago when I realized that instead of telling a girl at the center to be careful, I had several times told her to forget. (Forget! Forget! Forget!) No wonder she seemed confused.

My personal favorite was when Anna (from Sweden) somehow managed to convey that she had a boyfriend in Norway, and that, as calling is expensive, she writes a lot of e-mails. I’m still not quite sure how they established all this; I think it was the result of too much nodding in a bewildering conversation.

As I write this, I am sitting in a sort of tropical garden, complete with brightly colored flowers, tinkling fountain, lily pad-covered pond and palm trees swaying overhead. Surrounded by the perfectly lazy sounds of birds chirping and leaves rustling, one would never suspect that there was something so disturbing as a big demonstration a few meters away, on the other side of the high, white, rose bedecked walls.

This morning we got up at 5 a.m. (my favorite time of day, really) to go downtown to the Indian embassy, as we are in the process of getting our tourist visas for our tip to India in January. The “system” at the embassy is as inefficient as things get and takes several days of countless hours in line (unless, of course, you are willing to pay a wee bit extra…). Determined not to contribute to the continued existence of this extremely annoying corruption, we have waited, and waited…and waited in line (prepared, as the good Scandinavians that we are, with wool sweaters and a thermos of coffee). Now we just have a few hours to kill before we finally can pick up our precious visas.

Which brings us back to the demonstration. On our way out of the embassy this afternoon we encountered deserted roads, a few burning holes in the road and scattered bricks. It didn’t take long to run into the angry-looking, stone-throwing crowd and the cluster of not-too-happy-looking, armed police. Sharp as we are, we decided to go in the opposite direction, but hadn’t taken more than a few steps before the angry crowd decided to run our way, apparently being chased by the angry, armed police. I must admit we were more than a little bit spooked, and without stopping for a powwow we took to running as well. Like a herd of cattle we were swept down a side street in the trampling, shoving, yelling chaos, without a clear idea of what exactly we were running from. As the threat of the (did I mention armed?)police behind us faded, the intense and courageous shouting gave way to whoops of laughter and delight at the three western girls (probably looking very confused) who had obviously been very much in the wrong place at the wrong time. We knew we could relax when they started shrieking and running around us just for the fun of watching us jump.

We have been given several jumbled-up and widely varying explanations of the day’s demonstrations by eager participants, but still haven’t been able to piece together a complete story. The exited boys running around the streets remind me a lot of kids at school smelling a fight and scampering off in a rush to join the action; I’m not sure how many of them really know the details of what it’s all about. But they sure care fiercely.

I guess we’ll have to wait to get the news until we get home. Our afternoon has mostly been spent avoiding these slightly unpleasant gatherings, till we found our hiding place in this most serene of all gardens. It’s the kind of place where dust and loud noises just don’t exist, and you wouldn’t be surprised to discover a magic carpet swooping down to offer you a ride.