On Language in Europe...
In these times of quick and cheap automatic translators like Babelfish, we might assume that language differences are becoming less and less of an issue for travelers around the world.
However, we were quite happy we had studied French when the English menu at a restaurant in Fontaine de Vaucluse read "Salad..." (OK, so far, so good) "...with Ham Believed." Ham Believed!! What in the world is that?! We looked at the French menu. "Salade avec Jambon Cru." Jambon cru is a raw, cured ham, like prosciutto. But cru is also the past participle for the verb croire, to believe. So we ordered the Ham Believed and ate, gloating to ourselves that yes, we ARE smarter than Babelfish.
Really though, the places where Babelfish (or equivalent) is necessary in Europe are few and far between. Yes, fortunately for us native speakers, our unfortunate language is spoken widely almost everywhere. The notable exceptions are: rural Sicily (but it's Italy, so it doesn't matter, since more than half of the communication consists of gesticulations and volume), Albania, Bulgaria, and rural Hungary, where the dominant second language is German. We were embarrassed when trying to troubleshoot a clutch problem at the Fiat dealer in Szekszard. "Sprecken sie Deutsch?" they asked. "Nein. English?" we answered. "Just English??" was their response. Well no, French, and a bit of Spanish, but those don't help in Eastern Europe.
Thankfully, the Hungarians don't expect tourists to learn their language, which is completely unrelated to romance languages, germanic languages OR slavic languages. No, it is unique in Europe, with its closest linguistic neighbor Finnish. We found basic phrases nearly impossible. For example, goodbye is viszontlátásra, and thank you is köszönöm. Which may not be as bad as the Albanian thank you: Falemenderit, or the Bulgarian: ҕлагодарЯ (pronounced "blagodaryah"). We think the worst, though, was Greek. Please is Παραχαλω (Parakalo), thank you is Ευχαριστω (Efkareesto). Help! Words for thank you should be two syllables. Max.
The Danes have the right idea. Thank you is Tak. This, I can handle. Danish and Swedish rank among the easiest languages for English speakers. Many words are the same, just spelled funny, like brød and fisk (bread and fish). Dutch, too, is pretty easy to read, but sounds like complete hell when spoken! And, because we've studied French and Spanish, the romance languages: French, Italian, Spanish and Portuguese, are also pretty easy for us.
However, studying French has its drawbacks. I have become a terrible speller. Is it blue or bleu? Appartement or apartment? Adresse or address?
Along with these franco-spellings, we expect you will witness the following words from our mouths when we return: Peut-être - French for "maybe"; Pour la plupart - "For the most part"; Vraiment - "Truly"; Brico - abbreviated from bricolage, for "home improvement"; Frigo - "Refrigerator"; Bancomat - Italian for "cash machine"; and Smak - Dutch for "flavor". Oh, and you might hear us speaking fake German.
We are blissfully ignorant of German, and adore the way that its words easily become six syllables long with 80% consonants. For example, my Sonnenmilk is feuchtigkeitsspendend. (My sunscreen is hydrating. I think!)
So, in conclusion, das Langenthingen ist guddfohnnen! (This language thing is good fun!)
-SK
However, we were quite happy we had studied French when the English menu at a restaurant in Fontaine de Vaucluse read "Salad..." (OK, so far, so good) "...with Ham Believed." Ham Believed!! What in the world is that?! We looked at the French menu. "Salade avec Jambon Cru." Jambon cru is a raw, cured ham, like prosciutto. But cru is also the past participle for the verb croire, to believe. So we ordered the Ham Believed and ate, gloating to ourselves that yes, we ARE smarter than Babelfish.
Really though, the places where Babelfish (or equivalent) is necessary in Europe are few and far between. Yes, fortunately for us native speakers, our unfortunate language is spoken widely almost everywhere. The notable exceptions are: rural Sicily (but it's Italy, so it doesn't matter, since more than half of the communication consists of gesticulations and volume), Albania, Bulgaria, and rural Hungary, where the dominant second language is German. We were embarrassed when trying to troubleshoot a clutch problem at the Fiat dealer in Szekszard. "Sprecken sie Deutsch?" they asked. "Nein. English?" we answered. "Just English??" was their response. Well no, French, and a bit of Spanish, but those don't help in Eastern Europe.
Thankfully, the Hungarians don't expect tourists to learn their language, which is completely unrelated to romance languages, germanic languages OR slavic languages. No, it is unique in Europe, with its closest linguistic neighbor Finnish. We found basic phrases nearly impossible. For example, goodbye is viszontlátásra, and thank you is köszönöm. Which may not be as bad as the Albanian thank you: Falemenderit, or the Bulgarian: ҕлагодарЯ (pronounced "blagodaryah"). We think the worst, though, was Greek. Please is Παραχαλω (Parakalo), thank you is Ευχαριστω (Efkareesto). Help! Words for thank you should be two syllables. Max.
The Danes have the right idea. Thank you is Tak. This, I can handle. Danish and Swedish rank among the easiest languages for English speakers. Many words are the same, just spelled funny, like brød and fisk (bread and fish). Dutch, too, is pretty easy to read, but sounds like complete hell when spoken! And, because we've studied French and Spanish, the romance languages: French, Italian, Spanish and Portuguese, are also pretty easy for us.
However, studying French has its drawbacks. I have become a terrible speller. Is it blue or bleu? Appartement or apartment? Adresse or address?
Along with these franco-spellings, we expect you will witness the following words from our mouths when we return: Peut-être - French for "maybe"; Pour la plupart - "For the most part"; Vraiment - "Truly"; Brico - abbreviated from bricolage, for "home improvement"; Frigo - "Refrigerator"; Bancomat - Italian for "cash machine"; and Smak - Dutch for "flavor". Oh, and you might hear us speaking fake German.
We are blissfully ignorant of German, and adore the way that its words easily become six syllables long with 80% consonants. For example, my Sonnenmilk is feuchtigkeitsspendend. (My sunscreen is hydrating. I think!)
So, in conclusion, das Langenthingen ist guddfohnnen! (This language thing is good fun!)
-SK

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