Danilo
I had spoken French so much that my lips were in a permanent pout. My hand had been waving around for so long that I was scared I wouldn't be able to put it down. I don't know why but when I spoke French I had to make sure my body felt French.
Did that make sense? But it felt right. Pa did it all the time. He was excellent at it. He would pause at the right time and say 'uh' at the right intervals. He was a master of impersonating cultures and languages.
Therefore I had the best teacher when it came to these things. Pai was too rigid, always wanting to speak textbook ways. What was the point of being in another country and not living like them? Like the time we went to Japan and only wore kimonos and fundoshi; their traditional underwear.
