Another day spent inside working on the cinematics for the video game. Come afternoon, I realized I’d better do some laundry and get groceries, so in between transferring files, I tried to figure out the German washer once again (I think I got it right this time—there’s no instructions for these things anywhere on the internet—I may post some later for the benefit of others living here).

On my way to the bus stop to get groceries, I saw up ahead as two kids were riding bikes on the sidewalk. The little boy sped ahead, toward me, and passed by on his tiny bike. The girl followed, much more slowly, and as she gained speed, she called out to her brother, “Akhmed!”

At the very same moment she went crashing to the pavement, landing in a heap of bicycle and child. It was right next to me. I turned, I offered my hand, and she looked up pleadingly.

I didn’t know what to do. So I spoke. In English. Bad idea. “Are you okay? Can I help you?”

Her pleading look turned into one of horror, and she started crying violently. Luckily two other guys—obviously foreigners as well, but evidently not so foreign as I am—rushed over and began speaking German to her. Her crying quieted. They got her up. I picked up the bike, fixed the seat, and since everyone was ignoring me, I walked to the bus stop.

Man, how many people will I wind up scaring before I learn this language?

In other news, I just learned that I’ll be teaching the lesson this Sunday–in German. Heaven help us.