A horse is a horse, of course

1.12.07

Sue-wee and I went to the marche (market) on Sunday to buy some fruit, cheese, meat and bread. We hit up the fruit man first. He was ENTHRALLED by the fact that we did not speak any French and were shopping at his little stand. I tried to explain that we really didn't speak French (and therefore didn't understand him), but he kept talking away...on and on...with every fruit we picked out.

We headed next to the meat vender. I had asked my friend before I went how to say "ground beef" and she told me, "boeuf hachee or steak hachee." Got it. Good to go, right? Yeah, not so much...

Sue-wee and I see that the meat vender lady is grounded what looks like beef. That's always a good sign. I step up and say, "Un demi-kilo de boeuf hachee, s'il-vous plait." (One half-kilo of ground beef, please.) She, in a manner quite similar to the fruit man, begins to go on and on in French. "Vous etes sur? C'est du cheval. Je vous en donne un demi-kilo, mais c'est du cheval. Vous etes vraiment sur que c'est ce que vous voulez?"

I had no idea what she said. I only knew she'd asked a question. I used my stock phrase of "I don't speak French," with my pitiful I'm-so-sorry-I-am-pitiful-and-can't-speak-your-language-but-still-need-something-from-you face, and then said again, "Un demi-kilo de boeuf hachee."

She went on in French. "N'est pas boeuf. C'est cheval." At this point, warning bells were going off in my head that I sort of recognized the word "cheval." I should have slowed down and listened. Lucky for me, Sue-wee was not ready to plunge forward. She shook her head no, that she didn't want the meat until she knew what it was.

The meat vender lady looked at Sue-wee, looked at me, and then said, "Horse."

HORSE!

No, thanks! She pointed us to the cow vender man's stand and then we realized there were pictures of what animal was being sold above the stand. Good thing to know. We walk over to the cow man and before we can say that we want "un demi-kilo de beouf hachee," the horse lady YELLS across the marche that we want a half kilo of ground beef, and we want cow because we are scared of horse. She imitates what our faces must have looked like when she'd said horse...

And of COURSE everyone in the marche is captivated now by the two foreign girls who didn't know they were about to buy (and eat) a pound of horse. A nice little old lady helped us buy cheese after that, though, so we wouldn't get stuck again. And we left after that, skipping the bread, because we were a bit overwhelmed by that point.