I have driven by taxi to our office many times. On Tuesdays, Jan normally goes with me. After I get out at my "stop", she continues on to a small NGO, where she does some English tutoring with one of the employees, plus helps in other ways. As the taxe neared the office stop, I was relaxed and thinking of other things.
Suddenly I realized we were about to pass my stop. In my very limited Vietnamese I shouted to the driver: "turn left, turn left, turn left." That would have been very helpful except there was no place to turn left; and I didn't want him to turn left. What I should have shouted, and meant to shout was: "Stop here, stop here!" When I realized and corrected my mistake, the driver stopped, looked back and grinned. "You said "turn left" but I could not!" I said "excuse me" and exited the taxi.
Jan's Vietnamese, like mine, is far too limited to be able to explain to the driver what had just happened. Maybe he guessed: this poor confused foreigner has no idea what he is saying in Vietnamese! That kind of mistake reminds me of the times in Canada when I heard immigrants speaking English, but not making much sense. It is humbling.
Speaking of foreigners: following our Sunday morning service we were invited to join a few of our friends for lunch. It turned out that the "few" were actually over 30 adults and children, all ethnic Chinese from Malaysia and Singapore, plus one family from Hong Kong. We were the only foreigners from the West, and felt very much at home. The food was great at a nice Singapore Chinese restaurant. The fellowship and friendship was even better.
Suddenly I realized we were about to pass my stop. In my very limited Vietnamese I shouted to the driver: "turn left, turn left, turn left." That would have been very helpful except there was no place to turn left; and I didn't want him to turn left. What I should have shouted, and meant to shout was: "Stop here, stop here!" When I realized and corrected my mistake, the driver stopped, looked back and grinned. "You said "turn left" but I could not!" I said "excuse me" and exited the taxi.
Jan's Vietnamese, like mine, is far too limited to be able to explain to the driver what had just happened. Maybe he guessed: this poor confused foreigner has no idea what he is saying in Vietnamese! That kind of mistake reminds me of the times in Canada when I heard immigrants speaking English, but not making much sense. It is humbling.
Speaking of foreigners: following our Sunday morning service we were invited to join a few of our friends for lunch. It turned out that the "few" were actually over 30 adults and children, all ethnic Chinese from Malaysia and Singapore, plus one family from Hong Kong. We were the only foreigners from the West, and felt very much at home. The food was great at a nice Singapore Chinese restaurant. The fellowship and friendship was even better.
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