It's tough for me to think that the world is anything but perfect when I am going for a run on the most beautiful fall day in recent memory around a pristine little island in the middle of a bustling beautiful cosmopolitan city, watching pairs of old women who have obviously been friends forever sit watching the Danube and chatting. Then, after one and a half times around the island - 4-5 miles, impressive for me, I'm a swimmer, NOT a runner - I stopped to do some abs, pushups, etc., where a pack of toddlers surrounded me, chattering away in Hungarian, trying to get me to play their game (to the chagrin of their very Hungarian, and thus frowny, mothers). I then proceeded to walk, fairly leisurely, back to my tram. Past the old Franciscan nunnery (where Saint Margaret lived, and Margitsziget - Margaret Island - got its name) I found a fountain playing the Sugar Plum Fairy song, complete with water show. After stopping briefly, I almost literally ran into a woman wearing a shirt that said, in English:
I want to have your love baby.
It's tough for me to think that the world is anything but perfect when translations can be that funny.
Oh, and the back of her shirt? Well, that said CIA.
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1 comment:
Thanks for writing this.
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