By: Stephanie Reynolds
“Hey!” I whispered urgently to our favorite editor who was sitting in my office, “Do you know French?”
“Yes, I do!” she answered, and I waved to her to quickly follow me to the lobby where this beautiful French woman stood. I stood awkwardly between them as they spoke, wondering if there was any hope of me understanding. Occasionally, I would catch a word or phrase that I understood from my Spanish class years ago. One of the problems with being trilingual is that there tends to be blurring of the vocabulary. One of my best friends in middle school answered her entire Spanish test in French when she was exhausted. (I remember being outraged that the teacher didn’t give her full credit!) Our guest didn’t understand the Spanish, but I did and I felt less like an eager but wholly uneducated golden retriever.
I have a deep heart for visitors from abroad. Maybe it was because I was raised in the Air Force, or because my mom was so into other cultures, or because we often had visiting distinguished military guests around our table. Or maybe it’s because I have so often been new. I was the new kid, the new girl, the new-to-the-squadron wife. I know that feeling of walking into a completely different culture and hoping to find a friend…but actually it wasn’t a whole different culture, was it? No, I went from American base to American base, from state to state, town to town. Even if we drove thousands of miles to get there, we were still in America. I was still, essentially, home. But it gave me a slight taste, a mere suggestion, a pale hint of what it would be like to be in a foreign country, eager and unsure, trying to navigate both the new and the strange.
I remember a young, exchange officer’s wife at the second base we lived. I saw the Japanese flag and wondered if she was lonely, so I bought a Japanese-English dictionary and tried my best to make friends. The look on her face when I showed her my dictionary was priceless. At the time, I wasn’t trying to be noble or anything, I just wanted to make a friend, but her reaction made me realize how truly lonely someone can be in another country, and it made me want to reach out more.
I remember working at a strawberry stand in Madison and seeing how many Asian wives came by to buy fruit for their children. I was deeply embedded in anime at the time, so, again, I bought a language book and left it casually out on the counter so they could see it. I just wanted them to know they were welcome, that I was glad they were in America.
And today, I was eager to show this amazing young woman (who doesn’t know a lot of English words, but pronounces them perfectly) the warmth and friendliness that you, my fellow Limestonians, are known for. I was so thankful that Ali (who was here by coincidence, except we don’t believe in coincidences) was here to help plant the seeds of friendship in tri-lingual soil and water it with French. I was thankful for Google translate (though the whole time I was hoping that I wasn’t going to start an international incident from bad AI).
Y’all, this is what tourism is all about—introducing others to our culture and exploring theirs as well. Building bonds and mutual regard. Welcoming national and international guests and showing them our warm hospitality. Making friends.
I love my job.
By: Stephanie Reynolds, Athens-Limestone Tourism Association
