Come again?

While Trevor and I have been in Poland, there have been a few instances that have gotten lost in translation, where what we were intending to say in Polish did not exactly cross the language barrier in a favorable way. It's just business as usual when you live in a different country, I guess, but we've gotten quite a kick out of them.

Like the time I desperately tried to explain to someone speaking to me that I don't speak Polish. When I later related to Trevor the extent of our conversation, I realized that I had been telling the man, "I don't speak Polish not very well." We laughed and then Trevor said, "There's probably not a better way you could have said it." (Really, this was just an instance illustrating my poor Polish skills more than a translation problem, but it still makes me laugh.)

The latest moment happened in church last week while Trevor was teaching Sunday School. I walked into class a little late after dropping Anna off in nursery, just as Trevor announced the number of the hymn we were going to sing. I quickly opened the hymn book to the right page, and when Trevor saw that I understood what he had just said in Polish, he laughed in delight and pointed out to everyone in class that I understood what he said and that I must be very, very smart.

And then, instead of saying how beloved I was, he told the class that I was such a good lover.

Awesome.

And it's even better that I had to find out what he said through my friend who was translating for me. I had noticed that things had gotten a little quiet, but I still had no idea what he said. After a silent pause, things got a little more uncomfortable as people in the class tried to decide whose responsibility it was to inform Trevor about what he had said. (Apparently the word has a little more of a promiscuous connotation in Polish. Thanks. Just when I didn't think it could get any better.)