French?

When I sit down to think about it, I don't really like to go grocery shopping anymore. Sure, I like to have food, but when you have no one to go with, you know you have to carry whatever bags back with you at least 1/2 a mile (okay, I could take a taxi...but I am anit-taxi unless necessary), and you never know exactly what you are going to find - it's not so much fun. Okay, now that I've said that. I halfway take it back. Ha! It is fun meandering the aisles and browsing. I've found some pretty neat stuff. Today I saw a whole pigs leg. Kind of gross but kind of cool. There are also endless fruits. Yummm!!! So I guess it's not THAT bad to go to the grocery store. (Thanks for baring with me on that talk through of grocery shopping. Ha! Pointless.)

The point of this story lies in the check-out counter. As I walk up to check out, the clerk always asks if I have a "tarjeta de puntos". This is my points card. Whenever I buy things I accumulate points to use on merchandise. What exactly? I have no idea. Ha! I just know that whenever I buy something I'm racking up the points. Sweet. Makes me feel good! Well, most Colombians, when asked for their tarjeta de puntos, just give the number of their cedula (identification card). This 6 digit number is their code into the computer system so they don't have to carry a card around. I tried that once (I have an identification card for foreigners). Told the lady the number to my cedula and 1, 2, 3, fail. She just shook her head. I wasn't about to give up so I handed her my cedula. For about a minute straight she was punching in numbers, canceling, punching in numbers, adding numbers, subtracting numbers but nothing seemed to work. I shrugged and handed her this flimsy piece of paper with a bar code linked to my account. Bleep - and like magic my name appears on the screen and she can proceed to give me my hard earned points.

Here's something that always makes me smile. When the clerk scans the bar code on my card they are supposed to say my name. Like I've mentioned in the past, Leanne is NOT an easy or common name here. So, their first challenge lies in my first name..which usually gets butchered. What's funnier is watching them try and say my last name. VanRemortel. This name is 11 letters long and intimidating. Not that it is difficult to pronounce (just sound it out and your golden) but it just doesn't seem to end. The same thing usually happens at the check-out: the clerk sees my names, nervously glances up at me, grins, and then makes their best attempt to say my name. I always smile back and explain to them that my name is pretty strange for Colombia and that I'm not from here. Two days ago the man looked at me, looked back at my name, looked at me and asked if I was french. Sure, why not, today I'll be French. No, just kidding, I told him that I was from the United States. He smiled.

That was the second time in a week that someone asked me if I was French. A few days before this incident I went to a pizza shop with a friend. We walked in and the owner said Happy New Year in Spanish. I responded with Happy New Year in Spanish and then another worker said with a strong accent in English, "Happy New Year!". I grinned and responded back to him in English, "Happy New Year." Then he asked me (in Spanish) to say Happy New Year in my language. I was confused so I just said Happy New Year in English again. Ha! He was probably confused then too.

 "No, no, no - in french or Italian."

I apologized, "Sorry, I don't speak those languages."

He was shocked, "Really you're not French or Italian??"

"No, I'm from the United States"

"Oh, you appear to be French or Italian."

Interesting. I wonder how he would imagine someone from the United States. We all look pretty different anyway. So yeah, 2 times in one week being told I was French - I'll take it!

Well, my train of thought/writing has brought us from the grocery store to France, how does this happen?