The Little Quirks Of the English Language: Part I

The most difficult part of learning a new language is the little words, the hidden and subtle meanings.  Sometimes the interpretations of the usage of these little words are not collected in encyclopedias or dictionaries; one needs to learn them as time goes on.  

These little words have bitten me in the rear many times!  For instance, the first time I went for dinner with Christina's parents, her mother had prepared a dinner fit for royalty, nothing but fabulous.  There were several courses, and everything was prepared with great care.  To top things off, the entire family was there, I am guessing that they wanted to meet this Cuban screwball dating Christina.

"So Jose, what do you think of the dinner?  Do you like it?" -her mother asked me, and instantly I became the focus of attention of the entire table; everyone was looking at me.

"Oh yes, It's pretty good!"

Yikes!  The expression in everyone's faces was like - "What?" - it was hard to miss, "What did I say?"

"Mom, what Jose means to say is, that the dinner is excellent, right Jose?" - Christina translated.

"Right, yes, it is excellent, I love it!"

"That did not go well, did it?" - one of her sisters said looking at me and smiling.  Everyone laughed and I could breathe again.

Put yourself in my shoes, if I had said: "the dinner is good", heck, it means that I like it, but if I put "pretty" in front of "good", triple heck, I love it!  But it does not work like that.

"Jose, pretty good means that you have seen better.  It is not a compliment" - her mother clarified.  Wow, was I embarrassed, but everyone's laughter cured the moment.

In 1990, before leaving Cuba, I wanted to improve my English.  Someone recommended a retired American lady ex-pat who lived in Havana giving private English lessons.  I went to see this lady, and she took me in as one of her students.  Her lessons were once a week, in her apartment located in a beautiful place across from the Havana seawall, "El Malecon".

Our arrangement was simple: pay-as-you-go.

After a few weeks of classes, I felt I was making progress.  The American teacher was a true educator, but I thought that I needed a more conversational and aggressive approach.  The way I was training involved a long-term program. I'm sure at the end of this program I would have spoken like "Ronald Reagan" but I wasn't happy because my departure to Canada was on the horizon.

I explained my goals to my teacher and she understood immediately.  Graciously she recommended an English lady, who was running a private school that would suit my needs  "-Let me call her to see if she is taking more students" - and yes, she had space for one more.

The arrangement with my new English teacher was different.  She did not accept monetary payment,  and instead, we needed to bring to the class biscuits or cookies, tea or coffee, or fresh flowers.  These items were part of her class and we would all enjoy these things during our time together.  My new teacher made sure that I understood that that was the deal and if I was not able to meet those expectations I was out. 

My new English lessons were a pleasing experience, however, when it came to the "payment" part, I would have preferred to pay money, because acquiring the required items in Cuba was extremely difficult.  Counting me in, the class was made up of three students and the teacher.  At the end of each class, we would assign to each other which trophy we were going to bring to the next session, and we would rotate these duties unless one of us had access to any of these items regularly.

The other students and I never talked about what we did for a living.  I only knew that everyone was very motivated and we were all learning in big strides. I thought that it was peculiar that we did not talk about the things we were all experts in our jobs but left it at that assuming that our teacher wanted us to get outside of our comfort zones.

My new classes were planned as assignments.  For example, from the TV guide, which was published in the newspaper, our teacher would select a film and assign it to one of the students.  After watching the film, the student had to write a summary describing the story in English and present it to the class.  The report would contain a vocabulary section with new words, their meaning, and at least an example describing how to use this new word.  In the class, the student would present the summary, and our teacher would ask questions about the film and correct our grammar, pronunciation, intonation, and diction in general.

I learned so much!  She was great!!!

After taking these lessons I develop confidence in my spoken English and started to develop a slight English accent.  My English accent was not on purpose, I was copying the teacher accepting the precondition that what she was saying, and how she was saying it was the right way.  I felt ready for the English-speaking world, but was I?  I assume that confidence is a good thing to have

When I arrived in Canada in September of 1991 my English was sounding "pretty good", with an accent difficult to spot.  People would assume, based on my spoken word, that I was completely fluent, but the reality was far from it.

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The Little Quirks Of the English Language: Part II

No, no, no, She's Mine

 

Christina was easy to love, and all of you who have experienced that feeling for her can agree with me.  She was made up of that special suspended sauce... maybe that's why heaven called on her early. I have my complaint with that because for me our time together was not enough; I wanted her to stay with me.

In the summer of 1998, Christina and I had been living together for almost three years in an apartment that we were renting in Burnaby, near Simon Fraser University (SFU) where she was working as a Co-op Coordinator.  I remember the year clearly because it was my last year working as a chemist.  

At the time, I was working for a startup research company based at the Vancouver General Hospital.  The company was not doing well, did not have a clear development path, and it was certain that it would not survive the next round of financing.  To contribute to my new family I had to look elsewhere and was sending my resume to many pharmaceutical companies, mainly in Ontario and Quebec.  For that reason, if I was the first to arrive home the first thing I would do was to check the answering machine hoping to hear "the message".  To my disappointment most of the time there was nothing, or the messages were from Christina's extended family.  If Christina would arrive home before me then I would ask her with the same result: nothing.

One evening I arrived home before Christina to a bizarre and intriguing message:

"Christina, this is Nagel, I am in town for the weekend, I have been working on my Ph. D in California.  I heard that you got married...  congratulations!  I am staying with my mom near Metrotown.  Call me if you have a chance.  I can be reached at 555-1234.  Call me! Bye".

When Christina arrived:

"Christina, Nagel called, he left a message." - she looked at me surprised while walking to the answering machine and played the message.

"Nagel!"

"Who is he?"

"We studied together at SFU" - after a breve pause, she continued - "I think that he had a crush on me... Je, Je" - another pause - "he was a nice guy.  We attended the same classes, we had good conversations, had lunches together at school...  together with other friends."

"Ok"

"The only thing he ever said to me was... he asked me to go to Europe with him after graduation"

"What did you say?"

"No" - looking at the answering machine like in reaffirmation to her old decision.

"Wow!  ...I think you should call him.  He is just a friend, right?" - I said that and it felt like opening a door to the unknown, because, the way she talked to me seemed as she cared about him.

"Yes, nothing but a friend!  Are you OK with me calling him?"

"Of course Christina... you can even invite him for dinner" - In the back of my mind, I thought that there was no way he would accept visiting and old love, and sharing dinner with her and her husband!

"Jose, are you sure?"

"Absolutely!" - no, I was not sure and was already regretting what I had just said, thinking that I was putting in jeopardy my relationship with my wife which had been in a perennial honeymoon in its fourth year.  "Was I stupid or what!  But it is done, so better put on a good show, and pretend to be civilized".

"We have those two rabbits in the freezer, we have wine, potatoes, salad stuff... yeah, you can treat your friend!" - She smiled, I think she was glad of the idea of talking to an old school friend, and perhaps it reminded her the good old days.

"Oh, it would be lovely!"

Nagel was delighted to hear from Christina and he accepted the invitation.  

Christina always cooked her rabbit with garlic, celery, rosemary, thyme, sage, in a wine source; absolutely delicious!  She prepared that with roasted vegetables and roasted potato wages; a true masterpiece!   Accompanying that with salad and a glass of red wine is superb!  Christina never had  rabbit before she met me, but after I mentioned that rabbit was a meat in my Cuban family menu she always made sure that I would feel at home next to her and she would go the extra mile just to please me.

The day of the dinner came fast and all of a sudden our apartment became a Tuscany countryside painting.  There is nothing more comforting, and calming, than the fragrances of good food on a warm evening, adorned by the site of a beautifully set dinner table.

Nagel arrived on time, and when he knocked at the door Christina received him.  They laughed and hugged like two good old friends that have not seen each other for a long time.  He brought flowers - "Beautiful!" - Christina accepted them and invited him in.

"Nagel, I would like you to meet my husband, Jose.  Jose, this is Nagel".

"Pleased to meet you".

"The pleasure is mine, welcome, please come in" - I said as we shook hands.

The dinner time was very pleasant.  They recounted old funny stories, we all laughed, enjoyed the food, drank wine.  Nagel told us all about his Ph.D., how excited he was, that his end goal was to become a professor one day and have his own research group and teach. "I would like that for myself too!" - I thought.  

I believe that they both enjoyed that evening immensely.

During the course of Nigel's visit I completely forgot who he was and saw him as a person who could be a good friend, we shared very similar career goals and tastes. In fact, in those days I had sent an application to compete for a professorship at the University of Manitoba.  In the application package I had sent a proposal for the syntheses of Mycobacterium Tuberculosis antigens to study their interaction with immune system receptors; very interesting...  but, back to the dinner.

The evening slowed down late at night.  Nagel had taken public transit to visit us and we felt bad about sending him home after such a nice visit.  We offered to take him home, and he gladly accepted.  He rode in the back seat.  Because everyone was tired after the excitement of the night, the silence in the car did not feel out of place.

"Drop me off at Metrotown, my mom lives within walking distance" - Nagel said as we approached the destination - "A little walk after a good meal is not a bad thing!"

When the car stopped across Metrotown, just before opening the door Nagel said:

"Christina, I never had the courage to tell you how I felt about you and now it is too late.  Be happy guys."

He said that in a calm voice and exited the car.  We were sitting frozen as if struck by thunder! As Nagel started to walk away, I leaned over to Christina and said:

"Nagel, good luck in your thesis, let us know how it goes".

"Sure thing"

"Take care Nagel"

"Thank you, Christina, thank you for having me over this evening".

"Your welcome Nagel, bye"

"Bye"

As the car pull away Christina said that although not surprised Nagel's confession was unexpected.  To me, it felt like one of those "goodbyes", final, in a way sad, but it made me feel blessed by Christina's company; she was mine.

We never heard from Nagel again.

Collective Love

 

I think that Simon Fraser University (SFU), the Burnaby campus, is truly a beautiful place.  For me, it is special because I met Christina there and it was like discovering a new galaxy!

After Christina obtained her Master of Science in Chemistry, she got a job at SFU working as a Co-op Coordinator helping science students find employment in the local industry.  Christina really enjoyed her job and she was able to find employment for her students not only in British Columbia but all over Canada.  She was very successful for many reasons: she was smart, learned, gorgeous looking, big smile, great diction.

When she started to work for the Co-op Department her coworkers were all female and have to confess that they were all very good looking; like "Charlie's Angels"!  Every time I visited her office I made sure I behaved like an "English Gentleman"; amicable but business-like.  I am always like that, but had to make sure that when I visited "The Boss" at her office my visit was crystal clear!

SFU is really a great university in all aspects.  I worked there for a while and thought it was great.  Every year the university would enroll more students, and the success of their Co-op Department would play an important role in their promotion campaigns, and as the student body grew the Co-op Department also needed to grow.  

One of the new acquisitions was a French-Canadian gentleman named "Gaston".  I learned about him the day he was hired because Christina arrived home telling me all about the new team member, and how the others went "crazy" about him:

"-Not you"

"-Oh, no, not me!" - she told me wearing the biggest smile -"Not me, but the others!  Oh my God!  What a reception he had!"

Weeks passed, followed by months and "Gaston" stories would entertain some of our dinner times.  They were hilarious stories, nothing inappropriate, but very funny.  Christina's colleagues started a  baking parade with no end.  Cakes, cookies, fine fancy pastries, Christina would even bring "leftovers home" there were baking so much and diverse!

"-He is gaining weight!  We are telling him that he needs to go on-site visits, but he does not want to leave the office!  He's got it made!"

It was "Love Synchrony".  

I had to meet this fellow, so I planned a "lunch" visit to Christina's office.  I met "Gaston", and yes the bastard was good looking, but I was too and have never experienced anything like that!  I studied his method.  He was impeccably dressed, his English was perfect, very rich, his mannerism was precise but not rudely masculine.  I think he practiced that!  His accent was the most dangerous, like a fiery sword.  I was disturbed!  "The other husbands need to meet this guy!  This is bad!"

"-Christina, that accent is fake!  There is no way! "  Then the enumeration of people we knew were French-Canadian, fluent in both languages with no accent at all!

"-I thought the same but I think it is real!"  

She was under the collective teenage spell!  The only thing I could do was make sure that my husbandly duties were performed without question.  "-Oh, babe, what's the rush to get to the office... there is time for one more!"

One day "Gaston's" kingdom came to an end abruptly, like a house of cards.

"Oh, Jose, you know what happened today?  Such-n-Such asked him out and you know what he said?  He said that he has a fiancé that he is very much in love with her and that dating someone from the office would be wrong.  Such-n-Such thinks that he is nothing but a low and despicable ordinary Frenchman!".

"YES!"  I thought gloating in victory.  Finally, his kingdom ended and there was no more baking contest. no more stories, c'est la vie!  Actually, I think that "Gaston" was a decent fellow, never inappropriate; he was right, and I think he was having a little fun in his job.

Funny, but the previous post reminded me of this story.

Hard to see past the curve

During these past seven months, I had time to think about the years invested in the company of my wife.  We had good and bad days but even in days that seemed dark we had time to embrace, feel the connection; we never lost that.

My wife's condition, Glioblastoma, caused her mood and personality changes that I was not able to recognize as something very serious and instead attributed them to work stress, our finances, the environment of the  XXI century, politics, etc.  I regret that I did not pay attention to those changes and was not capable to see beyond the "curve".  If I had, perhaps that would have given her a few more months, or years, with us, better quality of life, so much more!

Christina always wanted to visit France.  I used to tease her and tell her "Christina, I do not know where that fascination that you have with Frenchmen comes from!  It must be that they elongate their lips to talk as if wanting to kiss you.  I believe you wanted to marry a Frenchman but instead, you settled for a Cuban!" She would smile at me and tell me "No, no, no; I love you!".  That I knew it was true.

We never had enough funds to visit France together but we could squeeze for one and although I always insisted to her to buy the plane ticket and go, she would not do it.  I regret I did not buy the plane ticket myself and send her on her way to see the world.  Same for Egypt, but terrorist attacks on tourists made me abandon the idea of insisting on her visit to the African country.

My biggest regret of all is that in 1993 when she asked me to marry her I said "no".  I should have married her ignoring the circumstances we were in and join her to be happy and spend more time together.

Life throws these curves at us and it is hard to see beyond.  We can only do our best.