When I travel, I like to learn a few words of the local language mainly so I can order food, and not look like a stupid American tourist. I also do it to show my Aussie husband (who understands several languages and can communicate in them well) that he is not the only one who can get us around and get us fed. I was pretty proud of myself in Spain when I was able to enter the Ham Palace, (seriously – that is what it is called) step up to the counter, and order a massive plate of jamon iberico all on my own. Feeling extremely confident, when mAh stepped away to the toilet I flagged the waiter down to ask for the check in Spanish. Except I had the wrong word, and he went back to prepare a plate of cheese for us. Really, anyone could confuse the words! Cuenta, queso– I’m sure you can see how this would happen?
I am now a little more careful and choose my opportunities to converse with the locals wisely. Mostly when mAh is not around, so he can’t secretly laugh at my ineptitude.