Blatantly honest

I'm reading a book right now titled "I Don't Have Enough Faith To Be An Atheist", and it is a phenomenal book.  One thing it talks about is a way to gauge whether a writer's work is truthful.  One way to tell is if there are embarassing details that the author includes about him/herself.  As you can probably tell, I don't have too much difficulty doing that.  I want this blog to be real and include the struggles we deal with.

Some days, there are a lot of them.

There are mornings when I am heading down to the street thinking that I'm nowhere near mentally ready to face a non-English speaking population.  There are days where I am stopped on the street by someone that needs directions.  "I'm sorry.  I can't help.  Stupid American here."

Last Friday, I had 2 simple errands that needed to be done.  One was mailing a package back to the US.  The other was buying a bottle of wood glue to glue a couple of wooden chairs in the apartment.  Back in the US, those 2 things could be done while half asleep.  Here, not so much.

The woman at the post office spoke about 10 words of English.  I speak about 3 words of French.  I had to fill out 2 sets of customs documentation and get everything labeled correctly.  It was such an interesting time that Sandy has said I'm officially responsible for all trips to the post office from here on out.  She also "helped" by leaving me there and heading to the market ahead of me.  She felt the need to call me twice while I was dealing with Madame Postale.  I survived.

How difficult is it to buy wood glue?  There are local stores called "Drogueries" that are pretty much like old time hardware stores in the US.  They have a little of everything.  There are 2 of these within a few blocks of our apartment.  I looked up "wood glue" translation online.  Colle a bois.  I even practiced it 5 or 6 times before leaving.  And in the time it took to walk there, I completely forgot colle a bois.  Completely.

The droguerie I went to is run by a woman that speaks no English.  I know this from when we went there about a month ago to buy a few things.  If you're the only one in the store, she will follow you around talking French.  Since I knew I couldn't communicate in French, I just kept telling her, "Hold on.  I'll find it." as if she would somehow spontaneously understand.

Someone else came into the store, and she went to help them.  As I was about to leave the store, I saw some tubes behind the front glass door that said "colle" on them.  GLUE!  I FOUND GLUE!  I'd been around that store at least 5 times and spent probably close to 10 minutes in there just walking around muttering "Hold On.  I'll find it." I looked and found a bottle that included a picture of a wooden dresser on the front.  "Colle bois"  YES!  I'd found it!

That was the highlight of my afternoon.  If a cameraman had come up to me as I walked out of that store and said, "What are you going to do now?" my immediate response would be "I'M GOING TO DISNEY WORLD!" and I would've doused myself in champagne.

It's the little things, people.  The things we take for granted.

When I swallowed my pride enough that night to tell that droguerie story to Sandy, she reacted in the exact way she should have.  She broke out in hysterical laughter to the point that she was crying.

This is quite a bonding experience.