In February I offered some reader stories of mangled language attempts and misunderstandings while traveling in foreign countries. Here's another, from Gayle who has a fun food website called BeenThereAteThat.
Gayle has traveled the world and tells this story about her stay in Tashkent, Uzbekistan:
Looming over me was a blur of aquamarine eye shadow, crimson blusher and frosted orange lipstick, topped by a head of henna-red hair that would make a mad scientist jealous. Zoya ran a state-owned cosmetics factory, and no doubt, was also one of its best customers. I was her house guest for a week-long homestay during my visit to Tashkent, Uzbekistan. But at that moment, I felt more like her hostage.She had plunked a plate down in front of me with some slices of lean, medium-rare meat. She didn't know a word of English - and she didn't need to. I could read her thoughts like a native speaker. "You vill find dis to be de most tantalizing and delightful meal you haff ever eaten, and I vill stare at you until I know eet ees trrrrrue!"
I picked up my knife and fork, then sawed off a bite. What is this stuff? I wondered. Not a filet, not a tenderloin. It didn't look quite like anything I'd ever eaten before. The slices were neat little ovals, rosy in the center, fading to gray at the edge. Not a bit of fat. Despite my dread, it tasted good.