I'm still traveling, even now that I am back home in the US. My "time machine" is usually an Uber ride these days. I've learned NOT to ask a driver, "Where are you from?" Isn't that a bit rude, really?
I remember that the "Where are you from" question would come from a UAE gypsy taxi driver in order to gauge the price he might charge. Carpet sellers, from Turkey to Kazakhstan would set their prices by the passport that one carried. It was what a maid would ask because she knew the sliding pay scale for each nationality and profession. In Kuwait it meant the difference be being considered as a tenant or not. The landlord would be confused with my odd Arabic question, "Andac shaqua hown, mumkin?" (Do you have an apartment here, maybe?) The reply would be "Min fen enti?" (Where are you from?) However, my response that "Anna Americi" immediately changed the direction of the conversation. Oh, how the Kuwaitis loved those wonderful Americans as tenants: lots of money, few complaints, able to do DYI around a place. In Saudi Arabia the "Anna Americi" would lead to "Would you like to be my friend?" Apparently, they were the ones with money to spend on these adventures.
So let's get back into that Uber as Time Machine. I don't ask "Where are you from?" I usually say how wonderful the weather is and then, "So how long have you been here in Tampa?" Few and far between are those who can proudly say, "Yep, I'm a Florida Cracker, we go way back here." I must admit that the ESL teacher in me bristles when a driver says "Seis años, me pequeño inglés." OK, so far be it for me to question what kind of immersion she may or may not have had in the English language. I certainly spent far more years in the Arabian Gulf and could probably say as much as that in Arabic.
I then stumble around with some high school Spanish, and listen to the response in machine gun Cuban dialect, but I always thank the driver for the Spanish lesson, as well as the ride. Then I slip in a little plug for English Language Immersion: "Es muy importante que TÚ intentes hablar inglés, mira, mi español es horrible, ¿no?" (It's important for you to speak English , see, my Spanish is horrible, right?")
Today was a joy because the "How long have you been in Tampa" Uber question got a response of "Six months, and you?" "Two years, I've been in Tampa two years. Before that I was in Kazakhstan for three years, most of the pandemic." We immediately hit it off because the driver was from Kirgizstan. He insisted that Kirgiz and Kazakh were very similar, Turkish language, the Tajiks were closer to Farsi. I bemoaned that fact that I could not travel to other Central Asian countries because of the pandemic. I had really wanted to see Samarkand! He rattled my memory for what Kazakh I might know.
"Oh, 'good-bye' is 'sabow' I think".
"Right it's 'sabov' in Kirgiz."
"Yes, but I always had to use Kazakh/Russian in the north. I could never tell which one to whom, so I would use both: Sabow/do svidaniya and Raqmit/spasibo, Good bye and Thank you. Khorosho and En'shalla were everywhere (OK and Good willing).
It was a fifteen minute ride, but a journey that took me half-way around the world, back to the Silk Road. So look and listen. The world is full of beautiful languages and beautiful people with stories to be listened to and enjoyed.
I'm still traveling, even now that I am back home in the US. My "time machine" is usually an Uber ride these days. I've learned NOT to ask a driver, "Where are you from?" Isn't that a bit rude, really?
I remember that the "Where are you from" question would come from a UAE gypsy taxi driver in order to gauge the price he might charge. Carpet sellers, from Turkey to Kazakhstan would set their prices by the passport that one carried. It was what a maid would ask because she knew the sliding pay scale for each nationality and profession. In Kuwait it meant the difference be being considered as a tenant or not. The landlord would be confused with my odd Arabic question, "Andac shaqua hown, mumkin?" (Do you have an apartment here, maybe?) The reply would be "Min fen enti?" (Where are you from?) However, my response that "Anna Americi" immediately changed the direction of the conversation. Oh, how the Kuwaitis loved those wonderful Americans as tenants: lots of money, few complaints, able to do DYI around a place. In Saudi Arabia the "Anna Americi" would lead to "Would you like to be my friend?" Apparently, they were the ones with money to spend on these adventures.
So let's get back into that Uber as Time Machine. I don't ask "Where are you from?" I usually say how wonderful the weather is and then, "So how long have you been here in Tampa?" Few and far between are those who can proudly say, "Yep, I'm a Florida Cracker, we go way back here." I must admit that the ESL teacher in me bristles when a driver says "Seis años, me pequeño inglés." OK, so far be it for me to question what kind of immersion she may or may not have had in the English language. I certainly spent far more years in the Arabian Gulf and could probably say as much as that in Arabic.
I then stumble around with some high school Spanish, and listen to the response in machine gun Cuban dialect, but I always thank the driver for the Spanish lesson, as well as the ride. Then I slip in a little plug for English Language Immersion: "Es muy importante que TÚ intentes hablar inglés, mira, mi español es horrible, ¿no?" (It's important for you to speak English , see, my Spanish is horrible, right?")
Today was a joy because the "How long have you been in Tampa" Uber question got a response of "Six months, and you?" "Two years, I've been in Tampa two years. Before that I was in Kazakhstan for three years, most of the pandemic." We immediately hit it off because the driver was from Kirgizstan. He insisted that Kirgiz and Kazakh were very similar, Turkish language, the Tajiks were closer to Farsi. I bemoaned that fact that I could not travel to other Central Asian countries because of the pandemic. I had really wanted to see Samarkand! He rattled my memory for what Kazakh I might know.
"Oh, 'good-bye' is 'sabow' I think".
"Right it's 'sabov' in Kirgiz."
"Yes, but I always had to use Kazakh/Russian in the north. I could never tell which one to whom, so I would use both: Sabow/do svidaniya and Raqmit/spasibo, Good bye and Thank you. Khorosho and En'shalla were everywhere (OK and Good willing).
It was a fifteen minute ride, but a journey that took me half-way around the world, back to the Silk Road. So look and listen. The world is full of beautiful languages and beautiful people with stories to be listened to and enjoyed.