Service Industry

"I'm not sure how they cook it," a student told me the other day when he was writing about a traditional family food. "We always buy it."

I scanned what he had written "Injera?" I said. "I think they cook it on a huge, flat stone or griddle."

"Like a pancake?" he confirmed.

"Yep," I answered, "and they use a special grain called tef."

He nodded.

"Does your family cook the food that you have with it?" I asked.

"What do you mean?" he replied.

"Like, do you have doro wat or something that you make it home?" 

He shook his head and frowned. Suddenly he laughed. "Do you mean do do wet? Chicken stew?" 

I laughed, too. "I guess I didn't pronounce that very well." What I had said sounded like door-oh-watt. "How do you say it again?"

He patiently coached me until we both agreed that I was much closer than I had been at the beginning of the conversation. "Thank you," I told him. "You taught me something important today." 

And I meant it! Especially when I think back on all the times I ordered that dish from an Ethiopian restaurant, butchering the pronunciation on every occasion, and considering how patient the waiters were with me.

Of course it was their job to understand me and help me to get what I needed and wanted.

Just as it is mine.