The Foreign Service Journal, July-August 2009

J U LY- A U G U S T 2 0 0 9 / F O R E I G N S E R V I C E J O U R N A L 25 rubbed his eye even more vigor- ously. Finally, the ordeal ended. Mr. Linus correctly navigated through the parting pleasantries and we left, the minister still rubbing his eye and Bomzar glowering. “You see, that’s how it’s done,” Mr. Linus said. “Hey, what do you think that dude had in his eye?” Bamboozlement is not my way, so in the car on the way back to the embassy I attempted to explain frankly to Mr. Linus how his mispronunciation could be misinterpreted. “For example: Sfloxnzdt,” I said. “Sfloxnzt,” he said. “No, sfloxnzdt. You must adjust the tone.” “That’s what I said: sfloxnzt.” “There is a slight difference, Mr. Linus. What I said means ‘textile tariff’ but the way you say it changes it to be an expression of intense surprise, with an additional mean- ing of indecent relations with a duck. “Sfloxnzt!” “You’re saying it again.” He was silent for a few minutes as we passed the Tapeworm of Greatness Monument. “OK, OK. What do we do now?” “I will consult the minister’s office—perhaps the dam- age is not so bad.” The damage was, in fact, very much so bad. I went to see Bomzar, who was buried behind stacks of dust-covered papers in his small cubicle next to the foreign minister’s of- fice, cleaning his ear with a fork. “So, how is the lovely Jel- lima?” I asked, hoping to warm our encounter. Bomzar has long tried to interest me in marrying his sister-in-law, Jellima, a charming girl whose only flaw is a moustache slightly lusher than my own. But this day he was not par- taking of banter. F O C U S Things went down the hill from there.