We took a taxi, three friends and me, from the Eiffel tower to the flat that we rented for our holidays in Paris. I was seating in the front seat, right next to the driver, while we were still talking -in Spanish- about our experience that day in beautiful Paris. The four of us were very happy about being in Paris, the tower, the wine and the boulangeries. The driver overheard our conversation and asked us, in French, where were we from. The four of us speak a bit -or more- of French, and we managed to answer back. From Mexico, said one of my friends.
He overheard us speaking and he stared for a second at us, particularly at me, since I was seating with him in the front seat, and then he said that indeed all of my friends looked like they were from Mexico, but not me. He said very confident that I must have been from Germany, the Netherlands, even USA but not Mexico. That happens often -I am very tall, even more for being Mexican- and so I gave him the same answer that I give to everyone that has ever said that to me: “I am from Mexico but we are very mixed in Mexico… being from Mexico is something that you have inside and is not in the colour of your skin… I am very happy about being Mexican”… or at least that is what I was trying to say in my very dodgy French.
Immediately, not only my three friends but also the taxi driver started laughing at me. The four of them speak better French than I do, so they immediately recognised that I referred to myself as being “pretty”. Not even handsome, good looking… perhaps attractive, but simply pretty.
From the many thousand words I could have picked in French, I had to pick “pretty”, right? For the rest of that damn trip I was the butt of the joke, especially for the taxi driver, who compared me with Cristiano Ronaldo and even used the chance that a red light gave him to pretend that he was putting lipstick on and that he was also pretty. Zut alors!
Is really not my fault that “Je suis très jolie” does not mean “I am very HAPPY”. The word jolie is so painfully confusing!