Language Barriers

my neighbor called the house this morning. in her broken english and heavy greek accent she says that "Abby has gone. out front door. mikos no home." so me and my mother went out to try and find her. i didnt have to go far, i found her in my neighbor's back yard, trapped behind the shed. it took me a while to tell Eva, my neighbor, that i had found her, but once she understood, she invited me in to sit in her kitchen. i had never really been comfortable around Eva. i'm shy and cant keep a convorsation going, and with the language barrier it was even worse. she spoke loudly and i always had the impression she was mad at me, which was never the case, but i was intimidated none the less. but i sat and answered her questions as clearly as possible. she smiled and said "i understand nothing." i smiled back and just sat down. she told was telling me about abby, but i could tell she was flustered and annoyed because she automaticaly turned to fast unintelligable greek. i sat there, trying very hard to understand what she was saying, but it was useless. she looked up at me, seeing if i understood. i nodded slowly but she knew i was lying. "dena kataleva" she said. "dena cataleva" i replied. that was one thing i knew how to say, because my mom said it alot. it meant i dont understand. she asked me if i liked greek coffee and i said yes. she busied herself making me a coffee. she pulled out a loaf of her homemade bread as well. she cut me a thick slice and handed it to me, signaling me to eat. i sat there, nibbling slowly, listening to her talk. she got up to check in my coffee. it was ready so she poured it into a cup and handed it to me. i brought it up to my lips to smell the rich scent. "be carrrful!" i loved the way she rolled her r's. she looked very shocked, she thought i was drinking the fresh coffee. "its hot! be carful!" i smiled "i know, i'm being careful dont worry." so told me to dip the slice of bread in the hot coffee. i did and it was delicious. she started telling me a story, in her broken english. she told me of her grandmother, when she was younger, her and her seven sibblings would visit her mother's mother. times were tough and they didnt have any sweet desserts. her grandmother would say "eva, dip your bread in your coffee." and after her grandmother died she never met anyone who dipped their bread in their coffee. it was a simple story but something in it touched me. here was this old woman, nearly in her eighties, telling me of her childhood as if it was yesterday. and i felt so priviledged that she was sharing this with me. i had finished my bread by the time she was done telling me her story, and the coffee had cooled enough for me to sip it. i had only had greek coffee once before, i had taken an immediate liking to it. you poured the grinds and all into the mug, let it settle, then sip the coffee, leaving the grinds at the bottom. i find myself so fascinated about other cultures. they all have a backbone that is the same from one to another, but there are significant differences. it shows how our environment impacts the way we think. how we bend to it, live around it, within it. i find that i despise this society. we have no respect for our environment. we do with it as we wish and it is screwing us over, to put it bluntly