Die deutsche Version findet ihr HIER. Es handelt sich hierbei um eine wahre Geschichte.
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This is a true story:
Before I started my three years’, never finalized studies of cultures and languages of Indonesia and Austronesia, I worked in an export-import company in Hamburg (north of Germany).
From my desk, I could look out on the street in front of the building (my office was on ground floor). After some time, I noticed a man, who always passed by at lunch time and stared at me rather impertinently and with furrowed brows. He was tall and slim with wavy hair and a long flaunting coat. Finally, I got fed up, and when he passed by again and stared at me, I stuck my tongue out at him in a not very ladylike way. From that moment on he never looked my way again.
Some weeks later, how big are the odds, I actually met this man in the underground. There were hardly any other people in the compartment, and he strode back and forth, up and down the aisle with long steps, back and forth, without break, like an imprisoned tiger in a cage (with his coat floating after him). When the train stopped, he opened all the doors he could manage before the train started again (was he claustrophobic?). Then he marched again, and, of course, had his usual, well known gloomy expression on his face. He did not make a better impression from nearby than from far away.
At some stage, I stopped working, started my studies, and after two years, some other students and I were supposed to be presented to the professor, who would be evaluating our final exams. Believe it or not, this professor was my restless tiger from the underground, the gawker, at whom I had stuck out my tongue! How absolutely mortifying … not only for me … 😉
Stella, oh, Stella 
A very good story about what we should be careful about what we should NOT be doing. That was truly an embarrassing moment for you, Birgit. Hopefully, the professor had forgiven you for sticking your tongue out.
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I am not sure that the professor recognized me … he looked at me as if he remembered me, but did not know from where … 😀
Definitely, the mature approach would have been to just ignore him or leave the room, when I saw him coming. But then … I was young and immature and very spontaneous then … 😀
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yes, what if the professor was mortified too? lol
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ich hoffe, du bist gut in die Woche gestartet, Klaus
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Ja, bin ich Klaus, du hoffentlich auch!
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möge dir heute alles gelingen, Klaus
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Danke Klaus, das wünsche ich dir auch!
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A great, not uncommon story. I hope he graded you fairly. 🙂
Tschüss.
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I am sure he would have, but I never finished my studies. I came to a point when I looked around me and thought „What am I doing here?“ So I stopped.
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That is the number one question one should ask oneself regularly. 🙂 I came to Mexico from Paris 30 years ago after asking myself the very same question. Now it’s lurking at the back of my head. Again.
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Oh, and why the study of language and culture of Indonesia and Micronesia (or was it Austronesia) Readings of Margaret Mead? 🙂
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Indonesia and Austronesia, which covers the whole area between the Easter islands to the Philippines and even the north of New Zealand, because Maori is a Polynesian language.
Why? A good question … I don’t know Margaret Mead, but I read a lot of adventure stories when young, among others by R. L. Stevenson. The Indonesia part was a bonus.
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Languages fascinate me. It’s an insight into people’s minds. You might want to try Margaret Mead. „Growing up in New Guinea“ is a reference. Stevenson, and Jack London were other references of my youth too. You also might want to read Somerset Maugham’s short stories. Many are set in Malaysia. It is a world long gone, but so is History.
Take care
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Same here, I learned a good many languages. The ones from my studies I mostly forgot, because I never had the opportunity to use them … a shame really.
Yes, Jack London definitely, J. F. Cooper, but also Forester’s Hornblower series, Somerset Maugham I read quite a bit. I googled Margaret Mead, I will take a closer look. Thanks for the tip!
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Pleasure. You might be surprised how much you remember of those languages if put in a situation to „hack“ at them again.
Cooper! Definitely. Still have them. Ready to pass to the grandson. Curwood? And Maugham is a master. Some of it has aged a bit of course but still is interesting.
Cheers.
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