Speechless

Living in a foreign country, even with a decent grasp of the language is difficult because of an inability to fully communicate. I wouldn't go so far as to say I have a decent grasp of Hebrew, but I can order my falafel and comment on the weather. But even if I knew more, I still would be so limited. No funny comments. No snappy comebacks. No clever retorts. No sounding semi-intelligent. Instead one is forced to sound like some idiot. I want falafel. There hot sun today. Big wind. I like go beach today, but I work hard.  

The inability to completely express myself in the moment in a bit frustrating. I find myself searching for words and wishing I'd paid more attention in Hebrew class and less time being annoyed with the Ukrainian male chauvinist pig who always seemed to ruin my day. I felt that frustration at times while a missionary in Switzerland. 

One time in particular I was on a tram riding through Geneva looking as dorky as ever. My hair looked like crap, I'm sure (apparently my hair looked bad for most of the mission, according to one Elder), and I'm pretty sure my clothes were both geeky and not matching. 

As we neared my stop, I stood to prepare to exit. A woman stood to my right, also preparing to exit. Allow me to explain that some of the people of Europe tended to think we were some creepy cult members, brainwashed by our leaders and out for fresh blood. Let's just say that this woman clearly fell into that category of people. This Brittany Spears wannabe was decked in super slutty clothes and sported a busted lip with a rather unpleasant grimace to go with it. The skank took one look at me and made a face of complete disgust as though I was picking my nose with abandon and wiping it all over the support poles.  She acted visibly annoyed to the fact that I was alive and sharing the same air as she and impatiently scooted closer to the door. Not being one who enjoys public humiliation by people who really have no room to ridicule, I wanted to really zing this woman. I wanted so badly to say with the sweetest smile I could muster, "What happened to your lip, sweetheart? Did your pimp smack you for stealing his drug money?" Admittedly, not a very missionary-like thing to say, but that's the first thing that snapped into my brain.

However, I defeatedly realized that I didn't know the word for pimp in French. Not like I would have said it if I did, but I couldn't have, even if I had wanted to. I wasn't capable of completely expressing myself in the moment. I was caught powerless, the victim of my own ignorance.

The doors opened and we both got off, going our separate ways. 

The next chance I got I looked up the word for "pimp." Never again would I be caught in my ignorance. You know, I should look that one up in Hebrew. You know, don't want to be caught off guard.