The English Language – An Innocent Abroad

Some English, anyone?

castelsarrasin

This file is lacking author information. / Foter.com / CC BY-SA

“Teacher, teach thyself”  🙂

It was October 1997 and having just moved from South Africa to Bavaria I was beginning to wonder if I could retain my sanity simply spending my days learning German, walking the dogs and clearing the snow from the pavement outside our house (mandatory in our town).

One morning (just in time)  I received a call from the local Volkshochschule where I was a regular language pupil three times a week.  As one of only three English people in the little town of Kulmbach (population around 1000) they wondered whether I’d consider taking on a class teaching English to mature Germans.

“I’m not qualified,” I protested, seriously doubting whether my grasp of grammar was up to the challenge, but my protests were waved aside.  “Not asking you to teach grammar, it’s just a conversation…

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The Million Dollar iPad

🙂

wamakeri

Michael was the first runner up at the Sema Toastmasters Club’s Tall Tales Contest.  I dare say that he should quit his day job and get onto the big stage of entertaining!

Michael, thank you for sharing your speech with my readers.  I hope you’re considering speaking at next year’s Annual Gala Dinner!

Best
Wa Makeri

 

It started out as a routine day. I had gone to the post office to check my mail. There was the usual myriad of bills, a lottery invitation and a dividend cheque. I decided to cash the cheque at the bank across the street. After a short queue the obviously bored teller curtly informed me that she couldn’t cash it because the names on my identity card and on the cheque were not a complete match. I tried to argue but she cut me short and gave me two options: to return…

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BROKEN TOES

theleastlikelywordsmith

I won’t make it to catch the train this morning.

It is 6:35 am as I leave the house and I’m already reconciled to the fact that I will have to pay higher fare on the bus to town since there’s no way to get myself to the train stop by 6:45 am.

It’s a typical Kenyan July morning – chilly and misty with overcast skies – the sort of weather that  fools the groggy  mind to linger under the covers and is eventually responsible for causing the otherwise early risers like myself to( you guessed it) – miss the train.

But I digress.

Soon enough I am at the roadside bus stop praying that there will be a bus along in less than the average 45 minutes. I’m soon joined by a few people, most notable of which (for the purpose of this story) is a young man carrying…

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In a perfect life

theleastlikelywordsmith

In a perfect life,
I would own a hammock
and a yard with a tree
big enough to hang it on
that on a perfect day
I would lie in
with a book
good enough to stop myself from reading in one seating
by closing my eyes and letting the suns rays
piercing through the canopy overhead
dance on my skin.

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