A small group from our church spends Monday nights with a Musketian (I probably spelled that wrong) Turk family (and whoever of their friends happen to be in the apartment at the time) trying, through conversation, to help them learn English. They are ethnic Turks from the former Soviet Union, and they speak Turkish and Russian. The apartment complex is home to several Musketian Turk families, as well as other international people, quite a mini-UN.
At a recent visit, the daughter we know (let's call her S) had a friend over who turned out to be from Egypt (M). I asked M, "What language do you speak?"
"Arabic."
"Does S speak Arabic?"
A shake of the head "Turkish."
"Do you speak Turkish?"
Another head shake "Arabic."
I assume M doesn't speak Russian (maybe I should've asked that too), which means they have no common language, other than a very little English. Yet they're still friends. Kids!
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1 comment:
This clearly proves the vanity of all philosophy. A common language only makes us think we understand each other. All that really matters is whether you're willing to let me play with your truck or not.
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