Sparkling

            When I was working on an American military base in Stuttgart, my boss was a Scotsman from Edinburgh.  When I first started the job, I could barely understand John.  Eventually, though, after training myself to listen closely, I began to understand his lilting Scottish accent.  After we became friends, John told me that he had had trouble understanding my accent too, and he thought that I spoke way too fast!  John said the cutest things about his daughter—he always referred to her as his wee lass.  One weekend he took her to see the Stuttgart Christmas Market, which is one of the oldest and largest Christmas markets in Europe.  When I asked him if they enjoyed their time together, he answered with a sigh and said, “Aye, me wee lassie’s eyes sparkled more than all the twinkle lights of the city.”  While obviously a hyperbolic turn of phrase, the poetry of his Scotts tongue painted a vividly beautiful portrait of his little girl that I will always remember.

I made my prof cry!! The Story of English part 2

Last fall, I had the opportunity to live in Stuttgart, Germany, for a few months.  Not being independently wealthy at the ripe age of twenty one, I found a job at a gas station on the American Military base.  Working at the Shopette, as it was fondly called, offered me the chance to meet virtually every military-based Americans living in Stuttgart, as it was the only station of its kind on the four posts in the city.  The accents, from New Joisey to Georgah, were really interesting to hear. After talking to a customer for a few minutes, I could usually make a pretty good guess of where they had come to Germany from. Most of the people who came through my line asked me where in the South I was from. That always surprised me, because I’ve never thought of myself as having a Southern accent, but apparently I do!  Before my German experience, I never thought about how language has the power to connect people.  Once I met a lady who sounded so familiar, so of course I had to ask her where she was from. Turns out, she had recently moved to Stuttgart from Rogers! When I told her I was from Siloam, we had an instant connection.  Although the chances of ever seeing this woman again (I don’t even remember her name!) are slim to none, our accents brought us together for a fleeting moment, and as the snow fell quietly in the dusky German sky, I felt at home.