Pardonnez moi

There are a few problems with living in a country where the citizens do not speak your native tounge:

1--When you are speaking in English, it is usually with someone for whom English is a second language. Therefore, you learn to simplify your word choice to be as clear as possible.

Recently Kyle and I were at dinner and I said, "Look Kyle, that meal comes wrapped in silver paper." to which he replied, "Don't you mean tin foil?" The scary part is that I hadn't even noticed I had said anything weird.

Because I am always trying to do a weird version of sign language if I don't know the French word, I have often caught myself saying, "My name is Wingfield. You know, wing like the bird (and then flapping my arms) and field like the, well, just field (and then I push my hand out like I am signaling the horizon.) Then they look at me like I am a complete moron and say, "Winfield?" And I just say, "Yes, Winfield."

While in Luxembourg with Amy and Nate this past weekend, the waiter at a nice restaurant was telling us the specials in French. When we didn't understand one of the choices, we asked if he spoke Flemish. So then he said the word in Flemish and we still didn't understand. Finally, after all of us trying to do motions and figure out what he was saying, he just said, "Bambi." And then the lightbulb went off for all of us and we said, "Ooohhh, you mean deer or venison!" And so that is what Nate ordered.

2--When you learn French you start to forget some of the English you already know.
The time I really knew the language difference was getting to me though was again in Luxembourg. Amy was leading the way in trying to find a restaurant that had been recommended to us. I wasn't quite sure if Amy had seen the restaurant, or if we were supposed to continue following her a bit further, so I said to Kyle, "We have still more to go now?" He just looked at me like I was crazy and said, "Yes, we need to keep walking."