Falling for Antonio - The Final Chapter
July 1, 2008 on 7:08 am | In General Musing, Travel |There is something cheery about a long list of languages. I keep a list handy that tells how to say good morning in over 800 different languages. The language list for my GPS device is just 200 but I still find it remarkable. As I scanned through the list I imagined legions of little Tomtoms reaching out around the world, guiding Zulus, Walloons, Ojibwas and Chechens safely homeward. I imagined Basque shepherds leading their flocks with renewed confidence. Sardinian fishermen heading safely to harbor. Sinhalese farmers finding new routes to market…
Like most idealistic dreams, however, this one was soon crushed. The Zulu page is sadly empty. As are Amharic, Fijian, Church Slavonic, Khmer, Macedonian and a host of others. Still, the mere existence of that list is somehow welcoming and optimistic in a “build it and they will come” sort of way. “Here,” it says, “We’ve made a place for you. Come.”
Even with the gaps (No Tagalog?) there are many options. There are voices of men, women, children, robots, even celebs (Darth Vader I can do without, but who wouldn’t want to follow John Cleese’s silly walk?).
But you may be wondering why I was looking at the list when I was besotted with Antonio? The truth was I was getting in over my head. I would purposely get lost, just so he could rescue me once again. The gas bills were obscene. My husband was suspicious. He took an instinctive dislike to Antonio and insisted on chilly Sister Catherine when he was in the car. It was a wrenching decision, but I had a family to consider. I sadly plugged the GPS into my computer and pulled up the voice list. Mike was keenly interested in the sultry, seductive Nathalie. A sadder but wiser Eva knew the pitfalls and gently guided him away. We picked a few Brits and I decided to brush up my Russian while I was at it, but my heart wasn’t in it. I was pining for Antonio.
Until I started driving with Vlad.

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