Taking a Break
Kendra - age 5, summer 2008These pictures were taken by our friend Barb when we were visiting them this summer. They are quite possibly my favorite photos ever taken of the girls and I love to look at them. And best of all, there was no formal-portrait stress (hair! outfits! smiles!). As Gerald says, "And how long did it take you to do their hair?" Ah, so the point is that not everything has to be perfect for a perfect picture!
This post is just to let you know that I will be taking a break from blogging for about a month. I am trying to start up a website for parents of TCKs (third culture kids - like Katrina and Kendra). It involves a lot of writing so I want to focus on that. I am also still homeschooling Kendra a bit (she is attending a local Moroccan school more now that she has finished the American KG curriculm). I have also started Arabic and French classes up again after a way-too-long break from any language-learning. Every time I really mess up in speaking to my friend, Rachida, she says, "Julie - when are you going to start Arabic classes again???" Point taken. It's time to stop talking like a cave-woman. You go now? Me go too. I like oranges. Grunt.
But Moroccans are so very merciful when it comes to language. They smile, nod, act like they understand, and help as much as possible. Of course, later, they probably burst out laughing. Then there's my friend, Fatima, who just goes ahead and does that in front of me. Once she fell on the floor laughing at something I said wrong. So it is my aim to learn Arabic well enough to not be a comedy act.
But the French are different. We Americans love accents. We think they are exotic, fascinating and delightful. But not the French. If you have a bad accent or bad grammar they will never forgive you. They might even hit you over the head with a hard baguette. We joke here that the language of heaven could not possibly be French, because the French would correct God's accent. They know they are better than us because they are so very, very cool. So it is with great fear and trepidation that I have also started a French class.
Wish me luck.


1 Comments:
That remind me of a joke I heard. A soldier was killed in WWII and went to heaven. He saw a French General's jacket hanging over ta chair. The name tag said Degualle. The soldier told Saint Peter that he didn't hear that the good general had been killed. Saint Peter said no my friend that is God's jacket he thinks he is Degaulle. MUD
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