Oh My God!

Some of my classes are better than others. In one of my classes we are discussing the symbiotic relationship between clown fish and sea anemones. And in some others… well, we’re still working on attributes. Those students, moving right along to tell the truth now that they know the word for punctuality. These kids are tricky tricky. When I ask a new question the first person to answer has the uncomfortable task of stringing together a response sometimes needing to do the, “What is the English for _____?” Well, after that first student discovered his best attribute was his punctuality a surprising number of students down the line assured me that their best attribute was their punctuality as well. We are moving on though – straight to the interview day of judgement next week. Therefore, over the past few days we’ve been reviewing everything we’ve talked about so far: work experience, their education, likes, dislikes, attributes and now their faults. I tell them, this is great because you can answer it just like you did the attribute question, you just have to choose something bad about yourself. In my first class today A. said, “I don’t have any faults. I am perfect.” I responded, “Your biggest fault is your ego.” In the afternoon class, N. said, “My fault is that I am… what is English for hee- pair-act-eef?” “Hyperactive,” I said. Then I paused and thought about N. He barely ever spoke above a whisper and seemed just about as calm as someone could be unless they were on tranquilizers. “My fault is that I am hyperactive,” N. said. I interrupted, doing a few second impression of what it meant to be hyperactive, flailing my arms about wildly, and engaging in a series of facial ticks. I asked him if that is what he meant and he said yes that it was. Fine, who am I to impose my opinions on others. Well the period stretched on, and I don’t even remember the context, but I responded to something someone said with an emphatic, “Oh My God!” At that point N. absolutely LOST it. He burst into hysterics, unable to sit upright or respond to any inquiry. I guess he really did have a hyperactive side in there somewhere, neatly hidden until someone says something to cause him to erupt. So, in fact, I was in on the joke. A book I have warned me that sometimes French people are amused by this phrase because of a homophone that exists in French. Though, I don’t remember if the book said that people could go into convulsions. I wanted to make the students explain to me in English what was so funny. Does “God mean something else in French?” I demanded. “It’s a sex toy!” a few students blurted out. Wow, I thought. These students don’t know the word for “carry” but are proficient to discuss vibrators. Hmm, maybe I’ll plan a discussion about S&M next week.