As I sit here in Paris munching on yet another pastry I’m pondering the place of rote learning.
Over the last few days, I’ve taken my high school french out of retirement. The only reason I had even a passing interest in learning the language was to eat.
20 years later I’m doing just that.
I might not know how to get a ticket or ask for directions, but I plonk me in a restaurant and I’ll do fine.
Yet I still hear the drills for letters and numbers in my head, the catch is I only remember the first few parts of the drill. Sometimes Korean words come tumbling out of my mouth when I’m lost for words.
Monsieur l’addition juseyeo.
I want that cake.