Ever Cluck Like A Chicken?
 

Last year we visited small towns in France, sometimes to get our points across we had to revert to sign language. At one small hotel we could not get the waitress to understand our accents or bad French so my husband clucked liked a chicken sitting on a nest and mimed laying an egg. Good thing we were way out in the country in unsophisicated surroundings, and we all, including the owner had a good laugh. Every happen to you?

Less fun perhaps, but a pencil and paper also work.<BR><BR>des oeufs.<BR>

Several years ago my suitcase wheels were squeaking to the point of embarrassment whenever I pulled it. I went into a little hardware store in Rouen to try to find some WD40 or something similar. Figuring that would mean nothing, I proceded to do a long full scale charades of opening a door, making a squeaking sound, spraying an imaginary can onto the imaginary hinge and then reopening the imaginary door without the squeak. The man watched the whole thing totally straight faced, walked to the shelf and handed me a can of -- what else? -- WD40. The label was all in French, but they still called it that.

Oh, what funny stories. <BR>Patrick, you sound like you are so much fun to travel with, with your sense of humor and vivid imagination.

So what point was your husband trying to get across...where he could go to lay an egg? :~)<BR><BR>While I can't recall any specific examples from past trips, I love having to use sign language, sounds, etc. to communicate, as it allows one to be creative and often, as you noted, also leads to a good laugh. <BR><BR>

Syndie,<BR> So, What was your husband trying to say?<BR>My imagination is running wild!!!!!!!!!!!

How funny, now that I reread my post, one's imagination could run wild. Luckily at the time we all understood that he wanted eggs for breakfast, but now that I think about it, he was lucky he did only get eggs!

No, but I did put my hands above my head like horns, trying to get directions to a golden bull sculpture outside Beijing. Never did find it, but it was funny everytime we thought about it later.

Once I had to communicate that one of our quartet was phobic about escalators to a subway attendant in Italy. Darned if I know what I did, but I'd love to see a movie of it. It worked, anyway. He turned the thing off so she could walk down.

I remember once miming blowing my nose when I needed to buy tissues and didn't have any with me to show as an example. I got my tissues, as well as an appreciative giggle from the shopkeeper.

I copied the 'beep beep' sound of a microwave while miming pushing buttons and shutting the door to request that some carry-out be heated up for us. It worked and also reduced me, my husband, and the shop clerk to giggles. For the rest of the trip and for quite a while after we got home my husband and I called the microwave the 'beep-beep.'

No, but I did put my hands above my head like horns, trying to get directions to a golden bull sculpture outside Beijing. Never did find it, but it was funny everytime we thought about it later.

Many years ago (no I won't tell you how many) I was in France and needed a washcloth. Now I speak decent (but not fluent) French. <BR><BR>I asked for a "serviette" (can mean washcloth or napkin). The next question was did I want "serviettes sanitaries" (sanitary napkins). The word "serviette" can mean a lot of different things in French--LOL. <BR><BR>I did explain that I wanted a "serviette" to wash my face. I got one of those terry mitts--and have been very careful to pack my own washcloth ever since.

My husband is the worst! I have seen him "Moo", cluck, say "Oink" and finally wiggle his hand back and forth imitating a fish in water. He got beef, while under the impression he was to be served fish. It's been a lot of laughs!

Once upon a time, in a restaurant in Freiburg Germany, I was having trouble understanding the entrees on the German menu. The young server was trying so hard to be helpful. When I asked about a particular dish, he described it as "Bambi meat." I had vegetarian that night instead of venison.

Similar to the tissue story above, while in Seville we went to a farmacia and couldn't remember how to say cough in Spanish. Went into a coughing routine, which produced both laughter from the pharmacist and a box of cough drops.<BR><BR>j

We were in Paris,walked all day,sitting at a cafe when suddenly that feeling that comes over a woman at the most innopportune moment happened...told my husband-who left me there and went straight to the pharmacy..he walked in,looked around,then walked over to the counter and said T---please? and they lady handed him a box!!!Somethings are the same in every language! :0)

This thread is something else. Apparently you can allude to T*mp*x, but you can't say ov*l*te.<BR><BR>Is Ovaltine okay? Oliveto?<BR>

xxx,I think T- is less explicit then T*mp*x....maybe that is why it got by.<BR>

What happened last night, did some post get deleted?<BR>On day in Dijon I was getting a sore throat so I went into the pharmacy and kept pointing to my throat and making croaking noises. The girls just stared at me, speechless I suppose. They never moved, stood completely still and stared. Finally, embarassed, I left and they watched me leave still silent. A customer waved me back and ordered them to get me some candy. Which they did.

Ruth-that is so funny! I can just picture their faces, stoney silence while the wacky woman is standing there croaking!<BR>LOL ... thank you for the chuckles~

Not really a gesture, but another ackward breakfast experience. In Turkey (as in other european countries I think) condoms are called preservatives. You will get quite a laugh from waitstaff if you ask for a condom on your toast. Unfortunitely I made this mistake more than once.<BR><BR>T

That last post reminds me...<BR><BR>Not sure if this would be an issue in other Spanish-speaking countries, but in Mexico, if you want eggs, you want to ask a male waiter "Hay Huevos?" ("Are there eggs?), rather than "Tiene usted Huevos" ("Do you have eggs?") as this website -- under the heading "BE CAREFUL WHAT YOU ASK FOR—" -- humorously explains.<BR><BR>http://www.mexconnect.com/mex_/trave...rtainment.html

Capo-is that like ---they didn't sell the Chevy Nova automobile in Mexico because nova means no go? :0)<BR>

Reminds me of the time in Italy I was trying to order penne pasta on the outskirts of Sorrento. I think I was ordering a part of the male anatomy, as the waiter looked aghast and bowed and walked away. I suddenly got the idea that I may have said the order wrong, and waited a looong while before another waiter approached and stone faced took another order from me. <BR>I guess sign language from me would have worked better, but on second thought, how would I mime penne pasta without being lewd either?

Now how can I put this story delicately?? Amsterdam a few years ago. It was Sunday and most stores were closed. I got my period. Finally found a pharmacy but you could only get your purchase at a type of "walk-up" window. You would put your prescription into a slider, then the pharmacist would fill it. Heard later that so many pharmacies had been robbed of drugs,they had to do it this way. So I have the pharmacist who speaks no English with a window between us. I try and ask for tampons but he did not understand. After many yelled attempts, I finally had to point to the region of my body where one would use a tampon and mime putting it in...my husband was rolling on the street particularly when he realized that there were two people waiting in line behind me. The light suddenly went on for the pharmacist...he laughed uproariously and gave me the product I needed!

In Venice, trying to get some bresaola (dried beef) from a deli, and I could NOT rememeber the word for beef. I could say "it's like prosciutto, but it's made from _____" but I couldn't fill in the last word. My dearest and most hysterical friend but his fingers up like horns, and mooed. (He's 6'5" and over 300 pounds, so when he mooes, the neighborhood knows!) Deli guy laughed, nodded his head, said "oh yes, bresaola" and all was find. But we will, for the rest of our lives, look at each other, moo, and laugh like idiots.

Back in the 70's in Caracas we were trying to find a stuffed monkey for our small son. I embarrassed my husband by making monkey sounds and scratching my arm pits. Finally the shop keeper said, "mono" and found what we were looking for. We still call monkeys "mono"

topping for light cream and fun

I'm an American living in China, and I only speak minimal Chinese, so I seem to spend half of my life pantomiming.<BR><BR>My most embarassing story (to date):<BR><BR>When I first arrived, I spoke even less Chinese. I went to a big department store in search of a few household items. Most store clerks didn't speak any English. I went to the electronics section to find an extension cord, and as soon as I had the clerk's attention, I realized I had no idea how to get my idea across. Suddenly, I had a flash of inspiration. Saying nothing, I motioned to the clerk to follow me over to one of the TV's on display. I reached behind it and pointed at the extension cord, sort of grunting and saying "This, this!" He looked at me for a minute, and then said: "So . . . you want to buy an extension cord?"<BR><BR>Um, yes.

Thanks Andrea, that actually made me laugh out loud - I can just picture it!!<BR><BR>Angela

More please!!!!!

I howled at the Amsterdam tampon story. I can't imagine how I would have managed.<BR>In Italy I needed mouthwash and it wasn't in my phrase book. I gargled for a while in the pharmacy to the amusement of my husband. I was offered cough medicine. cough drops but finally the light dawned. Good thing as by then I almost needed the sore throat medicine.

In the l960's I stayed in a student hotel in Paris; the concierge was une<BR>vrai vache and lazy to boot; after a<BR>week I had to go and request clean sheets. I was terrified of her and my<BR>mind emptied itself of any French I<BR>knew - in a quaking voice I said:<BR><BR> "Madame, je regrette mais mes drapeaux<BR> sont morts" instead of " mes draps <BR> sont sales" *<BR><BR> "Madame, I'm sorry, my flags are dead"<BR> instead of " my sheets are dirty"<BR><BR>Only a Parisian concierge could give such a cruel, cold, uncompromising glare<BR>in answer to my faux pas!

This is really funny thread.<BR>In a restaurant in Germany my friends were eating small sausages with rolls.<BR>I wanted a bratwurst (I think, I still don't know the name) and pantomimed to the waiter, pointing to their small sausages and showing with my hands how big I wanted it, he caught another waiter and said something in German and they had quite a chuckle, but I did get my big sausage, and it was delicious.

LOL~ my flags are dead! That is funny..thanks for the laughs everyone.

more. more. more. more. Pleease.

But no more remarks confusing laying an egg with ovulating. Fodors doesn't allow that kind of language here on this family-safe forum. LOL!<BR>

Oh these are a HOOT! Maybe the reason all of us enjoy traveling independently is that we are willing to take chances and look foolish?<BR><BR>Let's see, I've asked for "ears" in French instead of pillows, and had to lay my head on my hands in the classic mime for sleeping while singing "dormez-vous dormez-vous?" Yeah, that got the LOOK...<BR><BR>Two friends in Paris, no French between them, looking for Mickey D's. After asking for "Mick Donn Ulds" very carefully and patiently, they finally resorted to making the "M" from the classic Village People song "YMCA" and saying "ham berr grrr" - the flic gave 'em the right directions.<BR><BR><BR>

<BR>This thread is hilarious ! <BR><BR>Here's one of my gaffes. <BR>The island of St. Martin is affectionately know as 'the gourmet capital of the Caribbean' and with good reason. The food's to die for, and many's the time that you (and certainly me) will find yourself stuffed after a slap-up meal. The wait staff will often come by and ask you if everything was to your satisfaction and whether you'd like anything more, to which the response in english would naturally be " No thank you. I'm quite full." However, this being a French island, and remembering that the french word for 'full' is 'plein', I'd reply earnestly, and in my best french, " No, merci, monsieur. Je suis plein ". To my amazement, this response was often met with beaming smiles, and more often than I'd care to remember with a barely disguised chuckle. My surprise at this reaction was eventually explained by a kindlier waiter who told me that what I, a 200lb strapping guy was actually saying in perfect French SLANG, was "Oh no thankyou, sir. I am quite pregnant " ! <BR>I still laugh when I think about it.