Language learning has been fun, and one month in, we officially have just enough language to do some real damage.
In other words, we don’t really know enough to communicate accurately what we’re trying to say, but we do know just enough to be able to spout out a few words usually with the wrong tone which can drastically change the whole meaning of the word.
I can’t tell you how many times I’ve tried to say, “It’s nice to meet you.” When what I’ve actually said is, “I have diarrhea.” Of course it’s always said with a smile on my face which makes the people I’m talking to think I’m completely crazy.
When all else fails, we resort to a made-up form of sign language to attempt to communicate with the local people – especially when there’s something specific we need – which is just what happened last night…
Sunday night, CJ started not feeling good. Monday morning he was no better, but we had things to do so he trudged on. Monday night he went to work to teach his English class downtown, but by the time he got home he was really sick. He felt nauseous and was having stomach cramps. We couldn’t nail down anything specific that he had eaten that would’ve made him sick. We eat all our meals together these days, so if it had been food related, we would’ve likely all been sick. But the girls and I were fine. It was just him, poor baby.
Have you ever been sick and known exactly what the problem is and exactly what medication would fix your ailments? Of course, in the states, even if you know what medicine you need you have to first see a doctor to get a prescription, right? When you’re feeling bad and just want medicine, it can be a hassle, but not so here.
In this country, you don’t need a prescription for medication. Nope, you just walk up to the pharmacy and tell them what you want, and if they have it, you buy it. Simple as that.
I’ve seen everything from Amoxicillin to Viagra on the pharmacy shelves here, and you can actually buy medicine pretty cheaply. Pretty cool, eh?
So last night when CJ got home looking green in the face, he begged me, “Would you please go down to the store and get me some medicine?”
Now I have to confess, we brought with us a good amount of over-the-counter medicines from home, but we had nearly drained our complete supply of Pepto Bismal in the month that we’ve been here. Plus, he needed something a little stronger, not to mention maybe something to help him sleep. (He had been up sick all night on Sunday and was in dire need of some rest.)
“What’s that medicine that we used to get at home to ease stomach pain and get you to sleep?” he asked groggily.
“Dramamine?” I replied.
“No, stronger than that,” he muffled while laying face down in his pillow.
“Phenergan?” I asked. That had to be it cause he didn’t answer.
“I’ll try,” I said as I put on my shoes rushing to get downstairs before the store closed.
Little Mia decided to tag along with me to provide assistance should I need it.
We were greeted by two girls and one guy at the little pharmacy section of the “superstore” downstairs. They were all young, but eager to try to help us.
I scanned the glass case holding all the medicines. They appeared to be in alphabetical order, but I wasn’t sure of the spelling in English, not to mention that most of the medicine labels were written in their local script – which is completely undecipherable at this point in our language learning.
So I attempted to ask the workers, “Phenergran?”
Their smiles waned. They obviously had no idea what I was saying.
“You write,” the male asked nicely implying that maybe if I wrote down what I wanted he might understand and could find what I needed.
To no avail though, writing it down didn’t help.
So I tried the little bit of language that I knew.
“Amu tha ma goun boo:” which translates, “Husband sick.”
“Bite naw day:” – “Stomachache.”
“Ahhhh,” the workers replied in unison with their smiles returning.
The male reached beneath the counter and handed me a package of tablets that had no English whatsoever on the package.
“Uh….” I really didn’t want to buy medicine that I didn’t know what it was or how to take it or what it would do.
“What - is - this?” I spoke super slowly thinking that maybe that might help them suddenly understand MY language. It didn’t.
I handed the medicine back to the worker.
That’s when I decided to try sign language. I gave them the universal symbol for stomach sick. I stuck my finger in my mouth and said, “aaack.”
The workers looked at me confused.
I did the sign again trying a few other words this time.
“Throw up.”
“Nauseous.”
I rubbed my stomach and said, “Yucky!”
Nothing worked.
That’s when other people in the store who happened to be shopping near the commotion we were causing joined in to try to help Mia and I.
People were huddled all around us, and we looked like a roving band of Charades players all motioning and speaking different languages.
I looked at Mia in the midst of hubbub and started to laugh. It was just too funny.
Eventually one of the female workers behind the counter handed me a box of medicine with English words.
“Excessive gas, bloating and flatulence,” was what the box read.
As I read the words out loud, Mia started laughing even harder.
Pretty soon, everyone there was passing around the box and laughing.
“Amu tha?” they were all asking and pointing at the box. “Husband?” they laughed.
I realized that these people must picture my husband walking around our apartment tooting everywhere he went and my precious daughter and I were seeking some relief.
By this point, the laughter was outrageous. Have you ever been like really stressed out, and all you can do is laugh. First a little snicker sneaks out, then it grows until you’re just laughing uncontrollably at the insanity of the situation.
Eventually I realized that we were not going to be able to buy any medicine that night. CJ would just have to make due with what we had at home.
I thanked the workers who were still laughing heartily as Mia and I walked away empty handed.
It’s a shame that what should be such an easy process – procuring medicine without any prescription needed – was so completely problematic.
Mia and I were still giggling as we returned to our apartment and I prepared to give CJ the bad news.
Ironically, we discovered CJ completely sacked out in the bed, sleeping soundly.
Even if I had bought some medicine, I don’t think I could’ve roused him to make him take it.
CJ woke up this morning feeling a little better. I haven’t had the heart yet to tell him to expect some funny faces staring at him when he goes down to the store. I guess I’ll just let him figure that out on his own… :)
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