Many of you have probably had, or encountered, problems with second (in some cases third, fourth or more) languages. What were some of the more memorable ones?
Signs in China almost aren't a sporting target. They are often mangled by the printer -- "posh to open" on an emergency exit, for example. Well, hey, maybe the note was in bad handwriting, it was *almost* right!
And of course there is the "kids say the darndest things" factor. I was teaching a group of 10th graders many years ago. "Teacher, do you like beer?" "I like beer, very much!" "I have beer in my bag, do you want to see?" Dreading the result, I said yes, because if a 10th grade girl had a bag full of beer it was my responsibility to do something about it. Yep, she reached right into her school bag and hauled out her b.e.A.r. With great relief, bungee went on to review vowel sounds for the rest of the lesson.
It isn't as if I haven't mangled my own share of words. I read widely as a kid, but that left me with a vocabulary that included words that I never had to use out loud before I just gave up and started hanging around college students. It was the early days of D&D, the first boxed set, we were trying to figure out how to down an encounter and I wanted to remind them that I'd won the roll for an item a couple of weekends before -- a brazier of controlling fire elementals. "Hey, do you think that brassiere would help? The one for controlling fire elementals" Took a while for the laughter to die down enough for someone to tell me the importance of distinguishing z and s sounds. Me: "Oh, brassiere is a word I know, but I never had a reason to say brazier before, I just read it." And that was true.
Then there was that time I was studying German over next to Monterrey Bay, just up from Cannery Row. One of the guys in the class had a laps and screwed up the Bier/Wein rule, causing him to declare there was a sniper "scheissen durchs Fenster". To shoot is schiessen, scheissen be something else.
Then there is the fun of jet lag combined with the stress of being out on the streets of (then West) Germany for the first time and trying to get some important things for the apartment. Sleeping on my air mattress wasn't going to cut it for three years, so I set out to buy a real one. Mattress -- die Matratze, what could go wrong? bungee sets out, keeps discovering that although he'd studied German, High German was not what older people (keep in mind this was in the mid 80s) in Stuttgart were prone to speak. After a few unintelligible encounters with Schwaebisch my German, still fresh from the classroom, started to slip and there I was, trying to find a Matrose. Got some strange looks!
More recently, I spent too much time in a Chinese hospital, where nobody really spoke English. That left me, with my trusty phone app (yay! Pleco) to try to sound things out and look them up. A new doctor was looking me over and my helper, a guy from Inner Mongolia who barely spoke standard Chinese, asked her which department she was from. He knew I was tired of being the training dummy for new students. I was relieved to hear that she was really a doctor from another department doing cross training, but I heard her to say her specialty was "neiku". WTF? Closest Pleco could give me was neiyiku, and I was pretty sure (at least hopeful) that she *was not* a doctor of underwear! Once she was done with my bandages, ten minutes of mangled Chinese with helper guy and Pleco got things straight for me... neike (internal medicine). Well, that was a relief!
Surely, some of you must have a tale or two!