Tourist in Paris

When I waited for the rest of the group to make up a decision, I stay outside the hotel to watch people come and go. 

Since the hotel has no smoking policy, quite a few people hang around outside, me included.  There was this beautiful tall lady with her brother-in-law from Dallas, Texas of US of A, having a smoke and drink.  And we struck a conversation. 

Them with their twang American accent and me my Filipino hard accent.  We manage to understand each other.  So, the common question is: What do you think of Paris?  

I was cool as a cucumber in responding: Oh, you know, just another city.  And they both exclaimed: Yah! If we have known this is just like Dallas, we could have skipped this city.  Opsey… I stepped on a nerve. 

Moving on… 

A couple of women from Brazil conversation was more like a charade since they speak “un poquito” English.  They asked me what brought me to Paris.  I said I’m with a group from Canada who are on pilgrimage.  

Brazil:  Shaking their heads slowly uttering the word pil-gri-mage???
Canada:  Pil-gri-mage is when people travel to visit holy sites and pray. 

Brazil:  Still shaking their heads with a quizzical looking facial expression.
Canada:  I made a hand gesture, putting my palms together in prayer like this:

Brazil:  Huh?

Canada:  Okay, maybe this will make them understand.  I made a sign of the cross like this:

Brazil:  No, no, they both answered in chorus.
Canada:  Okey dokey, no comprendo eh?

Brazil.  No, no,

Canada: Last charade… I stretch my arms wide open looking up in heaven….

Brazil:  They both excitedly exclaimed….Rio de Janiero !!!

Canada:  (Pagans!) 

I kid you not, this is the truth.