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Goodbye Alfred

Last night I used my truck to help move a bed. Denis’ friend Alfred is moving out of state and is giving his bed to Jun. (It’s pronounced Joon) Jun is the friend who babysat Max last week. Anyway, we went to Alfred’s apartment and got the bed loaded into the truck, along with some clothes for the Compassion Center. Then Alfred said we should come up to a different apartment where some people were gathering to say goodbye to him.

It turned out to be another Filipino party. How many of these have I stumbled into now? Three? I always feel a little weird because nobody knows who I am. And I also feel weird because I can’t understand what anyone is saying, except every once in a while when they say an English word. A typical exchange:

“Boiwn skiodgh soldilngnlsh pqoek microwave.”
“Hahaha!”
“Wiosiodgn spoih Ryan Seacrest dwpqoin abncxklei.”
“Yes!”

Anyway, they took pictures to commemorate the event. I passed them my camera so I could get a picture too.

Me smiling while they say: 'Aosgin soisdng camera!'
Jun, me, Denis, Alfred, Marjorie

Jun and Marjorie work with Denis. Denis and Alfred have a mutual friend named Ninfa who is from Denis’ hometown, but came to the US the same time Alfred did. Small world, eh?

6 Comments

  1. Lauren

    Maybe that’s your superpower – stumbling onto Filipino parties.

    By the way, what state is Alfed moving to where they don’t need beds? I never want to live there.

  2. Carol

    Have any of these parties featured a peanut butter and oxtail soup? I had that once in Chicago at a Filipino Christmas party…nothing says deck the halls to me now more than the smell of cooked cow tail in a jar of Skippy…

    • Michele

      Ha! Carol that one got me laughing!

      Brad – I love your improvised Filipino dialogue! Too funny!

      • Lloyd

        I tried to google translate the dialog. But our well meaning, but generally slow witted, computer guy seems to have blocked it.

  3. Deanne

    Maybe it’s time to take up filipino.

  4. Peggy

    HA!!! As you know, I can so relate. I too feel weird around all the Italians. None of them know who I am either, and they don’t speak nearly as much english as your Filipino friends. An english word is only thrown in every once in awhile. But I know it’s coming because they stutter before saying it. Lu lu lu lu lu lu lu lu … crazy American…no mangia il formaggio!

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