communication is a funny thing

I used to think there's a trick to it, you know. Those who do it well make it seem so easy. But those who do a terrible job of it exhaust me. You know who you are.

To communicate well, I need to have had a good sleep, proper diet, and moderate amounts of fresh air. As for me and my house, most days I fall somewhere in between "well" and "terrible".

On my way home last week, I withdrew some money from an ATM. Two women stopped me on my way out; I hadn't noticed them before, but one was clutching her ATM card and the other had a look of utter despair on her face.

"Cuse mie, cuse mie, help mie - money," said the one holding the ATM card, while thrusting it towards the machine. I nodded encouragingly, yes, yes, that's the card, that's the ATM, off you go. But then she thrust the card in my hands and showered me with incomprehensible gibberish.

I was overwhelmed by how vulnerable they both were. At first glance, I was the one at-risk, being approached by two strangers in a dimly-lit enclosed ATM booth. But these women were handing me the key to their fortune, trusting that I would unlock it from this unforgiving, albeit bilingual bank machine. But in this case, English and French was the wrong kind of bilingual.

I slipped their card into the slot, and stupidly asked "English or French??? Do you speak English (which had already been established)? French?" Her answer was "money" so I selected English, then turned to ask her to key in her PIN. Full stop. And here is where I became a terrible communicator.

"Put your secret number... your code... um, password..." and I began tapping my finger on my open palm. Then I said "Enter." How helpful. After a blank stare, she entered about eleven numbers, then looked back at me. Aren't PINs supposed to be four numbers? Or do I think that only because I've had a four digit PIN for more than 20 years? Maybe in other countries they have eleven digit PINs. Who am I to judge? Regardless, I had no idea how to ask her, and even less hope of being understood.

"Er, how much money do you want? Do you want one hundred dollars?"

"Wan hunded dollar. Yes." So I keyed in one-zero-zero-dot-zero-zero.

Anyway, the transaction wasn't successful, and both women seemed profoundly disappointed in my lack of success. So was I. I let them down when they had trusted me with something so important. But as I watched them walk out into the dark snowy night, I realized that no amount of sleep or vegetables or exercise would've helped me communicate here. This failure was all about language. There were three possible languages in play, but only one would've worked: theirs.

Should good communication transcend language? I think that's a tall order. Sure, people can nod and smile and shake hands and pass food and smile and nod some more when they don't share a language, but financial transactions are a whole differnt matter.

My husband had a totally different perspective after I recounted the story to him that evening. "It was probably a stolen card, and now it's covered in your fingerprints."