LEAVING EDEN

Last night during dinner dishes, I overheard Hippolyta proclaim, "All I really want is a forked tongue ....slurp. And I would have liked my mother to be Crystal, the goddess of mind-reading and snakes; and my father to have been Poseidon. That way I could mind-read, control water, and talk to snakes all at the same time." Well, as if that weren't enough, Hollin quickly followed with " I know what you mean, I've always wished my canines would grow a centimeter or two."



Now don't get me wrong, I understand that it may be a slippery slope on which one allows their daughter to rename herself Hippolyta, but a forked toungue was going to too far.

Helping Jed to avoid that "this is over the top and worrisome" feeling, I shut the door, and briskly replied.
"Well kids , seeing that Slovenia is the Garden of Eden, let's see if we can sow some seeds of reality. Tomorrow, we are starting school."


This morning we caught the Podvtik Number 5 and headed to Verba for our first day of intensive language classes. "Unusually" late, we jumped for the bus at just the moment it was pulling away from Trubarjeva Cesta.


Well, just as Costco makes one feel really small, Europe makes one feel really big. The corridors of stores, the water closets, our washer, the cafes, and the bus aisles, all make the five of us feel like a herd rather than a family. In the states it was only Jed who stood out,
but here, en masse, we all have the problem. Hence, our transportation predicament. Jed was still in a hurry as he headed towards the back of the bus, and a sudden turn made him grab for the nearest yellow cling-on pole. Much to our dismay, his fist clinched tightly around the
STOP button on his anchoring device. Sure enough, the bus lurched to a stop, the driver turned, the passengers glared, and Zue called in her best French accent, "Well, that's Jean Claude for you" --- Jean Claude is the Doughhead given name for any spontaneous clod-like behaviour.


Ok, shoulders back, smile, "you didn't brush your teeth?, ZUE, this is city snow, you may not eat it, where is your hair barrett?, and DO NOT pick your pimples while you are talking.

Four flights up to the dormered room with Greta Garbo posters, Robin Hood plastic figurines, and a lollipop and fruit decorated hula hoop encircling the entryway.

VERBA, VERBA, VERBA.

It had been a feat finding VERBA the day before, because eventhough there were three large VERBA signs explaining the way towards the obscure little office, they were in Slovene. Now, if we can find "fluffy pillow flake" cereal in the MERCATO, you'd think we could find English on a language school directional poster. In fact, other than VERBA, there was nothing on the signs, other than 6 beautifully drawn, and Slovene labeled, fruits -- each of a different exotic color. We did not, but the kids did, find this symbolism quite appropriate for a language school, as "afterall mom, your fruits are one of the first thing you learn in a foreign language."

Hallo, Hallo.
How are you all doing today?
Ready to schtart, no?



Hello, Hello, yes,we are fine. It is very nice to be here.



"Ok, Ok, This is Monishquekrakkaceva. She vill be your teacher. "



Nice to meet you. Will you be our French teacher?"


"Ya, ya, French, yes, French for ze schildren,
and Slovene for you,
and Chinese, for ze little one."



Wow, do you speak all three?

No, No, I do not schpeak ze Chinese, that is Clemen. He will be here next veek.
I am Slovene, so as you know, I schpeak Slovene, but yes, I speak French, and

English,
and

Italiano,

and

Espanol,
and Arabic. It is not hard for us you see.
But I think, I think that Slovene is hard for you. But, That is ok, no?"

(This was it, the place we could finally feel small.)

"Ok, Ok, As ve discussed yesterday, you vill have a small test to check your level in Francais, OK, OK?, but do not worry, do not worry,

We understand, ve understand.... that you are "American", you see. All is good, come on now."