Creative Non-Fiction Short Stories. :) Travel, Oldsters, Love, and Compassion.
A few weeks ago in a Turkish market, I wanted to ask if the peppers were spicy, but I apparently asked if the peppers would punch/injure me. The girl laughed but answered, “No, they’re sweet.” This is a perfect answer for both questions.
Later I learned about my error from friends–who were laughing heartily over it. Every time I think I have achieved a milestone in Turkish, something brings me around and humbles me to get back to work. I’ve been trying to immerse myself. I love to speak this language, I love it when I can get a set of phrases rolling, and I love it when I can make myself understood. I can only assume, though, that I am making myself understood. One of my friends recently admitted, “Your Turkish is good, really. But sometimes when you speak, I don’t know if you’re making a mistake or just being sort of creative.”
Today at the same market, the same girl was at the checkout. Humbled, blushing, I asked if she remembered the mistake I’d made before when asking about the peppers. “Oh yes,” she said with a grin, “My Grandma loved that story.”