Deutsche Sprachen 101

1966
Eine katholische Jungen-Highschool
Die South Shore von Boston
Vier Sprachen zur Auswahl
Spanisch, Französisch, Latein, Deutsch
Spanisch einfach
Hatte Französisch im Gymnasium
Latein als Messdiener
Meine Auswahlmöglichkeiten
Latein und Deutsch
Warum nicht?___
Mein Lehrer Bruder Karl
Kettenraucher
Aus Bayern
Kehliges Knurren mit phlegmatischem Husten
Vier Jahre
Reading Goethe und Kafka
Zweimal fällt er durch.
Sonst Dreier und Vierer
Spuckt er oft aus
„Smith, du sprichst wie ein Zuhälter von der Reeperbahn. Scheiß, aber mit gutem Akzent."
Nach dem Abschluss

1970
Ein katholisches College in Boston
Noch zwei mehr Jahre von Deutsch
Geinrich Boll
Gunther Grass
Nicht besser Vielleicht schlimmer
Niemand spricht dort Deutsch___

Jedes Jahr zu Weihnachten.
Eine Karte
Nach Tabak riechend
Von Bruder Karl
"An meinen besten Schüler."
Du redest wie Scheiße
Ein Lachen___
1976
New York
Sprich Jiddisch mit den Chassidim.
IB Singer Immer noch nicht besser___
1982
Hamburg
Arbeite für die Reeperbahn-Zuhälter
Walter Abish 'Wie Deuscthe Es Ist' Wahrscheinlich spricht nur einer von Bruder Karl's Schülern Deutsch.
Der Leiter der GmBH
Kalle sagt Du sprichst wie Scheiße___
Naturlich
Ich Sprich wie ein Zuhalter Vielen Dank, Bruder Karl___

In English

1966
A Catholic boys' high school
The South Shore of Boston
Four languages to choose
Spanish, French, Latin, German
Spanish easy
Latin as an altar boy
French in grade school
Choices
Latin and German.
Why not?
My teacher, Brother Karl
Chain smoker
From Bavaria
Throat growl
Phlegmatic cough
Four years
He fails twice
Reading Kafka
Goethe
Latin as an altar boy
Otherwise Cs and Ds
He often spits...
"Smith, you talk like a pimp from the Reeperbahn. Shitty, but with a Hamburg accent."___

After graduation
A Catholic college in Boston
Two more years of German
Gunter Grass
Heinrich Boll
No better
Maybe worse
Nobody speaks German there___
Every year at Christmas
A card
Smelling of tobacco
From Brother Karl
To my best student
You speak like shit
A laugh___

1976
New York
Speak Yiddish with the Hasidim
Isaac B Singer
Still no better___

1982
Hamburg.
Work for the Reeperbahn pimps
Probably only one of Brother Karl's students speaking German
Walter Abish ' How German is it?"
Kalle The head of the GmbH
A notorious gang
Says
You speak like us
Like shit
Naturlich
I speak like a pimp
Thank you, Brother Karl___

ES TUT MIR LIED by Peter Nolan Smith

Autumn 1967. Xaverian Bothers High School my Bavarian German professor chain-smoked cigarettes in the basement classroom. Ashes from his dying butts dropped onto his black cassock and desk, as I read aloud from Kafta's DAS URTEIL from a blue book.

"Du sprechet wie Arschloch," accused the toadlike brother with a tobacco-ravaged voice.

"Jawohl, Bruder." Spelling like an asshole was not good for my grades. My high school offer French, Spanish, Latin, and German to meet the language requirement. I picked the two hardest despite my stutter and lisp.

Boston accents have no R and our class attempts to speak Deustche defiled the Teutonic language. My troubles were speech defest coupled with dyslexia.

My 1st semester grade was an D-.

I was on academic scholarship. The Principal and Vice-Principal suggested a change of language to Spanish.

I refused their offer, hoping to attend co-ed high school in my hometown. Here was all-boys. Some of the brothers liked young boys. Not Bruder Karl.

Spring 1968. My efforts in the 2nd semester earned an F in German troubled by another F in religion.

I no longer believed in god.

The school withdrew my scholarship. My uncle, a lawyer, persuaded them to reinstate half the scholarship and I remained at Xaverian to learn more German.

My accent failed to improve despite Bruder Karl's tutorship and I graduated without any honors other than the annual delivery of Bruder Karl's Christmas card. I met him at an alumni gathering and he said, "You were my star student."

"Wahrheits gemäß." I doubted him.

"You were the only one who could speak Deutsch."

"But you failed me."

"Because you couldn't read it." He stubbed out his cigarette and clapped a hand on my shoulder. "One day you will speak German in Deutschland and maybe other countries too, for once you can speak one language you can speak them all, especially one as hard as German"

His prediction came true, when I worked as a doorman at a pimp's nightclub, BSIR in Hamburg.

"Es tut mir lied."

I said that whenever I didn't let in a nightclubber.

I said it in French more than once at various boites des nuit in Paris, but there I said, "Je m'excuse." or 'I excuse myself'.

I learned this phrase in Italian, Indonesian, Indian, and Chinese, because I have sinned around the world and I have been sorry for my transgressions, however I have never heard a Thai person say that they were sorry.

"Kor thod."

The words 'I'm sorry' do exist in Thai, but Thai people rarely say it.

Your girlfriend can burn your house down with a burn-the-house-down smile.

No sorry.

Leave you for another man.

No sorry.

Say you don't love them enough.

No sorry.

Their lack of contrition was a parody of the famous adage from the movie LOVE STORY.

"Being in love is never having to say sorry."

Thais love everyone and we all know that Beauty never says sorry to the Beast.

ES TUT MIR LIED by Peter Nolan Smith

My high school German professor smoked cigarettes in the classroom. Ashes from his dying butts dropped onto his black cassock, as we read Kafta's DAS URTEIL from a blue book.

"Du sprechet wie Arschloch."

Bruder Karl's cigarette ravaged voice grated the cinderblock wall.

"Jawohl, Bruder."

Boston accents have no R and our class defiled the Teutonic language.

My 1st semester grade was an D-.

I was on academic scholarship.

The Principal and Vice-Principal suggested a change of language to Spanish.

I refused their offer.

My 2nd semester earned an F in German troubled by another F in religion.

The school withdrew my scholarship. My uncle was a lawyer. He persuaded them to reinstate half the scholarship and I remained at Xaverian to learn German.

My accent barely improved despite Bruder Karl's tutorship and I graduated without any honors other than the annual delivery of Bruder Karl's Christmas card.

"You were my star student."

"Wahrheitsgemäß." I doubted him.

"You were the only one who could speak Deutsch."

"But you failed me."

"Because you couldn't read it." He stubbed out his cigarette and clapped a hand on my shoulder. "One day you will speak German in Deutschland and maybe other countries too, for once you can speak one language you can speak them all, especially one as hard as German"

His prediction came true, when I took a job in Hamburg at the door of a pimp's nightclub, BSIR.

"Es tut mir lied."

I said that whenever I didn't let in a nightclubber.

I said it in French more than once in Paris, but there I said, "Je m'excuse." or 'I excuse myself'. I learned this phrase in Italian, Indonesian, Indian, and Chinese, because I have sinned around the world and I have been sorry for my transgressions, however I have never heard a Thai person say that they were sorry.

"Kor thod."

The words do exist in Thai.

Your girlfriend can burn your house down with a burn-the-house-down smile.

No sorry.

Leave you for another man.

No sorry.

Say you don't love them enough.

No sorry.

Their lack of contrition was a parody of the famous adage from the movie LOVE STORY.

"Being in love is never having to say sorry."

Thais love everyone and we all know that Beauty never says sorry to the Beast.