lundi matin. lunedì mattina. 星期一上午.
In hopes of visiting France
“Monday Morning” I am not bilingual--or any lingual... I am the stereotypical U.S. citizen. But I hope to change this. I commute to Kent --it takes about thirty minutes in the morning and forty-five at night and I think this should be enough time to learn a language in the car. I am thinking French, because Spanish brings back too many traumatizing memories of school.
In five years of Spanish all I learned was that “¡Escúcheme! Es callado ahora!” meant I’d find myself sitting in the hall waiting for the bell to ring. Oh, and I learned how to say something about a mule being smarter than me--that was Senorita Larsen's favorite lesson to teach. In sixth grade, when someone would answer a question wrong she’d make the whole class look at them and chant "a mule is smarter than you" in Spanish. It had a great rhyme and rhythm to it...but I have no idea what the actual words were. And when the class would turn to inflict this rhyme on someone, it would be with strange regret. You had to say it, but you didn’t want to—there was no fun in the belittling of classmates because we all felt dehumanized and powerless. Senorita Larsen-- now there’s a woman I would like to have a word with…
So--French, that’s what I’ve chosen. I would much rather have visions of Amelia and Carla Bruni than of my past Spanish teachers aka 'The Senorita’s of Perpetual Shame’.