As a white, English-speaking male, being in the minority is a sadly rare experience.
Alas here we are at a Club Med in Portugal to celebrate my Mum’s 80th. A once in a lifetime event. After massacring the Portuguese language at Lisbon airport in the days prior to arriving at Club Med, we are now essentially in a French enclave, in Portugal. It’s “Bonjour” every morning and “Bon Soir” every night.
Out of 200 odd guests we 11 are the only English speakers here. The high school French is in tatters and we are mostly relying on Kim’s Québécois French.
And it’s fabulous. Listening to all these European languages that I have no clue about makes me realise how lucky native English speakers are. It also reminds me of our own arrogance when we expect the world to speak English. And the need to revise my busted French the next time we head to these parts.