Would you like a cup of coffee in Bulgarian?

I am convinced of the importance of learning useful set phrases at an early stage of language acquisition. Moreover, I believe that learning humorous, rare, idiosyncratic, and slightly odd words and phrases is extremely useful, too. Although these cannot be used in any circumstances, they would often open many doors - and hearts - of native speakers.

I am able to engage in more satisfying conversations with Greeks, when I reveal that -- apart from everyday's kalimera/kalispera -- I know to say palikari (a compliment to a Greek macho), briki (Greek coffee pot), phrontistirio (private school, the word originates from Aristophanes where it meant the 'thinking house'), and kouraviedes (my favourite biscuits).

Funny and odd phrases, being individual and easy to remember, can be also handy when you need to master complex grammar features. I learned the entire set of rules on the use of Italian subjunctive by making up sentences involving my flames of the moment. Seven years on, I have no idea where all those flames have gone, but I still remember by heart these rather obscene -- and mostly written in highly hypothetical or unreal mode -- sentences. Needless to say, I rarely make mistakes in Italian subjunctive.

I have a favourite phase, which I try to learn in any language, even in those I will never be able to speak: You have beautiful eyes. I must confess that few of those whom I have asked to teach it, be it in Armenian, Hebrew, or Hungarian, reacted adequately. Many were surprised, some shocked, but in some cases it was a true ice-breaker.

And I am always happy to learn a few phrases in any language, so when I meet someone who speaks a language new to me, I ask them to teach me some. My most recent attempt was at a Bulgarian colleague, and the response was more than adequate. 'Yes', he said happily, 'I can teach you Would you like a cup of coffee? and Would you like a massage? My collection of useful useless phrases is expanding!

Words from Africa

I know next to nothing about African languages. I do not speak any of them, and I have never tried learning one. Besides, which one to choose? Apparently, there are more than 2,000 languages spoken in Africa. My whole knowledge about the continent is minimal: I have never been there and am not familiar with African writers. The same is true about my ignorance about Asia, Australia, and Oceania, but whereas these areas leave me pretty much indifferent -- apart from Asian cuisines, that it -- I have inexplicable fascination with Africa. I always read articles and dossiers on Africa in The Economist and Courrier international, I used to search for best African restaurants in Paris and Geneva, and I have been known to respond positively to chat-up lines of African guys in public places. I even once accepted a job offer on the strength that it involved travelling to Africa (unfortunately, the company had downsized before I managed to set foot there).

And of course, I am fascinated with African languages, that is why last Saturday I attended Word from Africa in the British Museum, part of the African festival that London, a home for many people of African origin, has been hosting for several years. The programme promised many wonders: listening to poetry, songs, and story-telling in Tonga, Zulu, Hausa, Swahili, or Somali, and I was anticipating a linguistic feast. Alas, it turned out to be a more of a burned toast experience: haphazard organisation, poor acoustics (in the BP lecture theater! I wonder how it is possible), moderators who had mistaken the festival for a TV reality show, and the worse of all, mediocre performance. I have heard fantastic African artists before (mostly in Paris) and am confident that the continent has many original and talented artists, so when I walked off home, disappointed, I wondered what could be the reasons of that poor show. Lack of money? But surely with increasing interest of Western companies for African markets and resources, one could have easily found several sponsors eager to showcase their involvement. Institutional weakness? (an expression my once-boss would use to describe the lack of efficiency of many ministries and public services in the developing world.) Lack of skills on the part of organisers? Next year, I would be happy to run the show, just in case the BM is interested!