New Language, Who Dis? The Accidental Comedy of Learning to Say “Fork” in French
Reinvention, Broken GPS, and Goat Cheese Moments
Trying to reinvent yourself in a new language is like turning 40 and realizing the GPS of your mouth is broken. Suddenly, you’re no longer “the accomplished woman”—you’re “the lady who said cheese like a goat.
The Email That Changed Everything (and My Keyboard)
Six months ago, my cousin Raquel moved to France and sent me this email — one of those breathless, typo-ridden, “you’re not gonna believe what just happened” type of messages.
By the time I got to the part where she called herself a piece of cutlery, I had mascara running down my face and tea sprayed across my keyboard.
I wasn’t planning to post this. Honestly.
Sorry Raquel. This is too good not to share. The world deserves to laugh with you.
Here’s What She Wrote:
“I was at this tiny café in Lyon — the kind with chairs that wobble, waiters who could win a gold medal in eye-rolling, and salads so pretty you almost feel bad eating them. Almost.”
The Plot
I had just sat down, determined to blend in like a chic local. I even wore a scarf. That’s how serious I was.
The salad came, and it was gorgeous. Instagram-worthy. Except… no fork.
Now, here’s the thing. I knew the French word for a fork. It was floating somewhere in my brain soup, probably next to the word for “socks” or “emergency.” But at that moment, nothing came to mind except one crucial language hack I once saw on TikTok: “Just say it like you mean it.”
So I did with the grace of a woman who belongs nowhere near Parisian society, I looked the waiter dead in the eye and said:
“Je suis une fourchette.”
Translation: I am a fork.
I knew something was off when he paused, blinked, and gave me that polite smile people reserve for toddlers holding scissors.
Eventually, he brought me a fork and a napkin folded into a tiny swan. I think it was his way of saying, Good luck, you weird, brave creature.”
Why Raquel Is My Patron Saint of Reinvention.
Moving abroad at any age isn’t just about the sights—it’s about the sounds, stumbles, and new sides of yourself.
Raquel unleashed other linguistic gems, like declaring she was “pregnant with cheese” and asking if a river had feelings (she meant to ask if it was deep).
Here’s the kicker: Raquel doesn’t blink.
She cackles at herself and waves the rest of us in.
Learning a new language in your 30s, 40s, 60s—or whenever life hurls change your way—feels like walking a tightrope in flip-flops: awkward, thrilling, and worth it. She’s right.
You’re Not Alone, Linguistic Warrior
Whether you’re butchering French, battling chopsticks in Tokyo, or piecing your life together mid-sentence, remember this: you’re not alone. Somewhere out there, Raquel is pure, raw joy, mangling something beautiful with her whole heart.
Now You Tell Me: Language Mishap Edition
“What’s the funniest language mishap you’ve ever had? Drop it in the comments—bonus points if it involves food, flirting, or total confusion!”
If you think mastering a new language is wild, wait till you meet the AI agents. They can help you translate your whole life.
