004: Let's start talking... not

Salut dear vrienden,


Ha, like how I slid the DUTCH in there? I think it's pretty swell. I don't even know where I picked up the word "swell". I am sure it has absolutely nothing to do with Holden Caulfield. For all those who don't know who Holden Caulfield is, here's a hint: think J.D. Salinger and ... oh, I don't know... maybe... rye. For those who still don't have a clue, the book is also known as Der Fänger im Roggen in Germany.

Either way, language and language barriers seem to be the topic for today's post...

A language barrier is not fun to encounter. Granted, it may be funny if you say something completely unrelated like "Pass the sky, please" instead of "Please, pass the salt", but it's really not cool to actually *laugh* at that immediately.
So, I've come to the conclusion that the French language and I, we just don't mix. I find it interesting and very melodic. I do - really, I could sit around in parks all day and listen to people happily rambling on in French, I can read French and understand it; half of my podcasts are French, but for the life of me, I cannot put one meaningful sentence together. Therefore, I have decided that I, from this day, will simply and downright refuse to speak French again. Flemish is one of the official languages here as well. So, humour me if I am going to ask you Flemish people something in a language I actually understand AND enjoy speaking.

Today's picture actually shows you a bit of my neighbourhood. Je vous presente la Rue F. Gay (pun... well... you may decide for yourselves) and "Le Centre" (the community centre). The construction was inspired by a Swedish red tape City Hall. I like the clocktower. I really do. Every full hour the clock plays a little 3 minute tune. And the funny thing is, it starts 3 minutes early.



So long and thanks for all the fish.