Say What?

Canada's beloved coffee and doughnut chain

Most of you probably know by now that I have travelled a fair amount, and have lived in several countries over the last decade or two. Of course, my gypsy lifestyle started with my being chosen to go to Belgium as an exchange student after high school. Then came my two years in a mobile unit in the airforce, before working for Outward Bound in South Africa. That saw me working in Hogsback and Sedgefield in the Cape, the Valley of a Thousand Hills in KZN, Qwa Qwa, Groot Marico and Zimbabwe.

"Settled" was not the word I would readily use to discuss my life. But all those experiences were just preparation for my life after becoming a Christian, as I began serving in churches around the world. Mongolia was an eye-opener and a culture shock of note and I discovered that practically no-one understood a word of English. I remember praying before going for a haircut that my grunting and hand signals would suffice, and that I would emerge with hair ... in something resembling a style.

Of course, there were many trips up into the dark belly of Africa, which I learnt to love deeply. Again, language was one of the stumbling blocks to communicating easily with the locals (strange thing that). I remember one particular trip to the Zambezi River basin in Mozambique, where the kids had never seen white people before and took days to become semi-comfortable around us. Mostly they just ran screaming in terror. I became quite adept at my scattering ministry over the years, possibly not something to brag about in the Christian context.Tickling does, however, seem to be a universal language.

Then, of course, I also lived in France and Madagascar, neither of which had English as its first language.

And so, when I discovered that I'd be moving to Canada I thought, "excellent, at least language will not be a problem!" But I was wrong. Apparently what we speak in South Africa does not resemble English. Although there are many people at church who still look at me blankly when I speak, the staff at the much-loved fast food joint Tim Hortons are my biggest nemeses. I've even attempted a southern drawl, Irish, Scottish, and Mexican accents but to no avail.

I tried Timmy's drive-through a few times when I first arrived, but I've definitively given that up. Like drugs, or too much alcohol, it's just not good for my health. And I mean, who can actually hear anything coming out of that tinny little speaker anyway?

Oh, how excited I was at my last attempt - when I put through my order once, and the reply was, "please drive through, and pay at the next window sir."

"Eureka, I've mastered ordering at Tim Hortons! I've finally arrived," I thought to myself, a glow of pride swelling my chest. "Everything will be alright now!"

But my excitement was short-lived.

Basically, all I was trying to order was a chai latte - that is a tea with milk, right?

Nope, apparently not. I ordered in the best twangy accent I could muster. I think I may have even thrown in an "eh" or six. What I got was (wait for it) a coffee latte with a tea bag in it.

Seriously? What were they thinking? What sane person would order coffee with a tea bag? I can just see them snickering to each other: "Some eeejit with an incomprehensible accent wants a coffee with a tea bag, right. What do I do, eh?"

"He's the customer, give it to him, eh," the manager would have answered ...

I was always taught to get straight back onto the horse if it threw you. Well, this is one horse that will not see me in the saddle any time soon.

But it's no better inside either, to be honest. The other day I tried ordering soup. This was my side of the conversation (all interspersed with blank stares).

"Hi, I'd like a small bowl of soup to go, please."

"Soup!" (Pointing to the menu above the server's head.) "A small bowl. Do you have any of the potato and bacon left?"

"Potato and bacon. Soup. It's up there ... Um, do you speak English?"

Soup ... How else can one say soup? I could have tried French, but "un bol de soupe" is practically the same as in English. And so, I threw up the white flag and tried something else.

"Um, okay, I'll have me a bowl of chilli please..." (I said, using my best Texan drawl.)

"Sorry sir, we're all out of chilli but we do have vegetable soup."

"Aw, forgedaboudeeeeet, jus give me a kwafee ..." was all I could muster.

...

Now, whenever people at church don't understand me my stock response is, "Did you once work at Tim Hortons?"

Nasty? Perhaps. Funny? I think so.

I love you, Timmy's