Geneva: Lost in translation...

(Geneva, March 2006)

It was one foggy Monday morning in Geneva with a cold breeze gently swept my face. I tightened up my scarf and jacket, to get a little bit warmer. The temperature showed 6 degree Celsius. I looked at the people around. Some rushed to catch the tram. Some comfortably sipped a hot chocolate at the café. Few were like me, standing in one of bus shelters with no clear destination to go.

I felt relieved to have grabbed a city map from the hotel, allowing me some brief information of some must-visit-places in the city. A half day trip to country side tempted me the most, but I couldn’t imagine walking at outdoor spots in such temperature nor could I afford to make a little shopping in one of the most expensive countries in the world. So I just let my feet decided where they would take me to.

I headed to downtown and ended up at a bridge of a big lake with a fascinating fountain in the northern side. I walked across the bridge, peacefully enjoying the view. Suddenly, a man approached me and then tried to walk next to me. I was so shocked. He smiled and tried to hand me a small box, like a soap box. I thought he must be a sales man, trying to sell something. I politely refused and said thanks with a smile but he kept on walking with me and tried again to offer me the box. He spoke few words in French that I did not understand. I smiled and said “no, thank you, sir”. He kept smiling at me but still insisted to give me the box. I started to feel scared and insecured. I was alone in a strange place, with the people who spoke language that I didn’t understand and now there was a man who persistently wanted me to accept the box from his hand. I rushed and was out of breath, but this man kept on following me in the same speed.

There were two choices that I could think about: screaming out loud for help or running as fast as I could. There must be some help I could get from the people around. Perhaps the police who stood only few meters away from me would help me or the group of big men with big motorcycles could throw this man away. But I chose none. Curiosity brought me to face him and then look at the box - the box he was persistently trying to give me. I was so surprised to find what the box was. Oh my God! It was a disposal camera!! He said “can you help with photo, please?” – in an accent that was difficult to catch.

I felt so extremely released. I offered my smile and gladly received the camera from his hand. “Sure! my pleasure”. I took some snaps of him and vise versa.

As we went along, I knew he was from Morocco and worked as a chef for a hotel in Paris. He took few days off from his work to enjoy Geneva, a city that was quite close from Paris but he has never visited before. We spent few hours going around the city and shared stories of our lives. We talked about family, music, works and other light topics. It was quite fun.

However, one thing that surprised me until now was how we communicated each other. He did not speak English very well and the only French I could understand was only “Mon Cheri” (English: my darling), which apparently happened to be the name of my favorite chocolates (best one ever!). We often had to use a gesture, or specific facial expression or specific tone to tell something. It was very funny. Sometimes the pronunciation was quite a challenge that we hardly understand of one simple word. It took me few minutes to understand “vesion” to be actually “vacation” and how I described him “Purchasing” by using money ;-)

After few hours, we separated at train station, where I had to continue my trip to other city. We said goodbye with a promise to keep contact through email address that he gave me and of which was unfortunately lost somewhere in my backpack.

The communication that we had may not be the perfect one (for sure!), but still it surprised me how we succesffuly found ways to get each other understand what we were trying to convey. Probably it was because we have realized since the beginning that we were different in many ways, except the mutual happiness to have found a friend to spend that day with. That understanding eventually guided our communication each other and brought us a taste of fun at far-from-home place.

Lost in translation? Siapa takut! ;-)