Wednesday, May 6, 2009
Laughing Out Loud
My landlord is a pretty funny lady, or so I've gathered by the amount she and the people around her laugh due to something she said. I typically understand about 75% of her conversations (in Romanian), but much much less when she goes into her entertaining I-want-to-tell-you-a-story-whether-you-understand-it-or-not mode and talks fluidly and quickly, brilliant hand gestures and dramatic pauses included. I've gotten used to just enjoying her presence during these tales and trying to understand as much as I can, but the most awkward part always comes at the end. That's when she reaches the punch line and leans back to let out a big laugh and puts her hand on my forearm, as if to balance herself from laughing so hard, and I'm left kicking myself for not understanding, not being able to truthfully join her in those pleasant belly laughs and the amusement she takes in her stories. Of course, I chime in and make myself laugh out of respect, but to me there's something sad and wrong in laughing when I don't really mean it. No matter how hard I listen nor how many stories she tells, I just don't get it and it's something that nags at me. The difference in humor and how difficult it is to understand in a foreign language. Yesterday, as we walked away from work together, my landlord dove into a brief recount of some mischief she witnessed over the weekend. I can't recall exactly what went down, but I got it. I got it. Her story was at long last funny to me and I started laughing before the punch line because I could see what was coming. She laughed more brightly than usual, too, probably because she could tell that I finally understood something. We continued to chortle for a good block or two and had to dab at our eyes a little bit before we went our separate ways. The humor from the joke had evaporated, but the silly outbursts that accompany joy were swift to replace it. Laughing with someone feels so much better than laughing for someone.
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2 comments:
More chortling to come, I'm certain...she sounds like a kick. And, what a pleasant surprise in my mailbox today! B & I will be moving to south Reno in June. We'll be putting down long, strong roots. And, of course, snowbirding to Mesa AZ for extended visits with Melanie. Big changes!
Here's a joke I heard the other day. I had to have the punchline repeated, but I got it in the end.
Ion and Vasile were neighbors living in Ardeal. Ardeal folks are known for being men of their word. One day Ion asked Vasile if he could have a liter of palinka, since his stores were low. Ion promised to repay him when he made more palinka. Vasile agreed since he knew Ion was a man of his word. A week passed, and Ion came back, and asked for another liter (he'd still not managed to make his own batch). Vasile wasn't too happy, but agreed. Another week passed and as Vasile was looking out the window he saw Ion coming back once again. Vasile went to hide under the bed and instructed his wife to tell Ion that he wasn't home. When she answered the door, Ion asked for Vasile. She explained he wasn't home. Too bad, said Ion. He'd brought two liters of palinka to repay Vasile, plus an extra half-liter for the two of them to share. But since Vasile wasn't around, Ion asked Vasile's wife if she wanted to try the palinka. They ended up drinking a bit too much, and started tumbling around on the bed. When Vasile heard this, he jumped out from underneath and shouted, "I've got a gun, I've got bullets, but unfortunately I'm not home!"
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