Change In Plans

This short post describes some of the phrases and words that we have found ourselves using frequently in our first five weeks of travel. Like any closed system of people, our family is definitely developing our own vocabulary, to match the rhythms and practical needs of travelling together. Here are some of the favorites:

“Cowboy up, cupcake!” - this comes from Alexandra Fuller’s new book, ‘The Legend of Colton H. Bryant.’ Basically, it means “stop whining and get on with it,” which has become a core part of our parenting repertoire. India and I, and then Zola (surprisingly, because he is only 8), all read this book while we were in Mallorca. Another phrase from the book which we use frequently (and was Colton Bryant’s simple philosophy on life) is “Mind over matter. I don’t mind, so it don’t matter.”

“We did a Dingle.” - this refers to any activity which didn’t go well, due to poor preparation and/or communication by Mom and Dad. It refers to our comically mishapful day trip from Ennis to the Dingle Peninsula in Ireland in June. Since then, the main Dingle has been our trip to Toledo, Spain (see the post from roughly August 22)

“Cough it up, boy” - this has become Zola’s, Lu’s and my way of asking for pretty much anything. I think India is a little tired of hearing it. It refers to a conversation at Zola’s camp this summer, between a counselor and a camper who was trying to sneak a video game into his pack on an overnight trip. This phrase was used dozens of times last night when Zola crushed me in French-language Monopoly.

“Can I play DS?” - Zola uses this phrase within 2 seconds of becoming bored. It means that he wants to play Pokemon on his Nintendo hand-held game. We have not been letting him play much, but he is relentless in asking, and generally good-natured about the denial of his requests.

“James Carlock” - Tallulah has been using this as the catch-all name for many unnamed boy animals we have come across. It refers to a very cute little boy who was her friend at camp this summer. The camel that she and I rode in the Sahara was James Carlock, and she was very concerned about where James Carlock’s Mommy was, whether James Carlock was too hot or too cold, how James Carlock’s tummy was feeling, and whether we could take James Carlock home with us. Yesterday we went for a donkey ride in Skoura, and her donkey was James Carlock, as was a tiny kitten we were introduced to when we were invited into someon’s house. This morning, as Lu and I played with a chess set, she named her king James Carlock.

“How’s your tummy?” - this is self-explanatory, but refers to the greater (Lu and me) or lesser (India and Zola) extent to which our bodies have struggled to adapt to Moroccan food and water. Someone tild me that in french this is referred to as Achmed’s revenge.

“Deux lait chaude avec chocolat, s’il vous plait”

- French speakers shudder, but this has been the invariable drinks order from both kids (through me) since we got to Morocco. The chocolate-milk powder is really good.

“Zola, write your ‘My name is…’ ”

- for our roadschool, this is like the home room bell. India has Zola writing a short paragraph every morning, to practice handwriting, and to signal the start of school.

“Non, merci. Non, merci”

- in the touristy parts of Marrakech’s medina (the souqs and the Jemaa el-Fna), we have said this hundreds of times, in response to offers to visit a shop, have a picture with a snake, get a henna tattoo, etc. The hustling is not overly aggressive, but there is a lot of it.

As we travel, I’m sure there will be many more like this. It isn’t quite the same as learning French (or Arabic), but maybe we are learning something.