Lost In Translation

Every time I think I'm starting to understand things here, another curve-ball gets thrown my way.

The other day I was over at my neighbour Sita's house having tea with her and her daughters, practicing my ten words of Nepali, when Sita came out with the most bizarre request I had ever heard.

After a delicious cup of Masala tea, we were sitting together discussing Sita's daughter Ganga's upcoming nursing school exams. During a slight lull in the conversation, Sita turned to me with a smile:

"I want to give you a bra," she said.

Uhh....what?
"A bra?" I asked, my confusion evident.

"Yes," she smiled lifting her sari to point to her own lacy black one for emphasis. "Bra."

you want...to give me...

a bra....?

Say yes to more things I thought to myself. It's not your culture... Don't insult them by saying no.

"Um...ok, thanks Sita, that would be great" I replied, trying to hide the hesitation in my voice.


"Because your country good quality. Nepal bad quality. I give you a bra" she leaned back, evidently satisfied with herself.


Aha! That was it. She wanted me to give her a bra. Good ol' pronoun confusion.


Happy to have solved this mystery, and relieved that I wouldn't be the recipient of a used undergarment, I sat back on the bench with a smile.

Then I thought about it again. Language barrier or no language barrier, that's still the wierdest request I've ever heard. I mean I clearly don't have extra brand-new bras just kickin around in my 50L backpack. So did she want a used bra?

It would appear so.

Wierd.

...I told her I'd see what I could do.