How many dead languages do you know? Well enough to understand when
spoken? Well enough to speak? Can you start a fire? Have you skills
which would be in demand in Imperial Rome, or Medieval France?
I think this thought train was set in motion by a book of Latin
phrases suitable for modern use, which I received yesterday. That got
me thinking about the [Latin for Americans][] books I got a couple
years ago—I’ve hardly started working with them. For that matter,
my French is rusted to pieces, my Spanish was never any good, and I
have no idea how to parse Chinese, Japanese, or Hindi—written,
spoken, or beaten-with-the-book-over-the-head makes no difference.
This seems like a poor state of affairs—there are so many people I
can’t talk to!
But, anyway, the result of my imagined trip to Imperial Rome
Roman Guard, in Latin: Hey! Tall woman inappropriately dressed for
the climate! What are you doing here?
Me: Brittania est insula.
Roman Guard, still in Latin: Apparently, giving geography
lessons. Where are you going?
Me: Roma est in Italia. Italia est peninsula.
Roman Guard, frustrated: I know Rome is in Italy. I’m a Roman.
And stop with the geography. Okay, you’re a badly-dressed Briton
barbarian, headed for Rome. What are you going to do in Rome?
Me: Agricola est.
Roman Guard: Aha! You got hit in the head with farm equipment.
Me: Alumna est.
Roman Guard: And now you’re going to be a student?
Me, frustrated: mea culpa, non est miles.
Roman Guard: Guilty of what? And I am so a soldier! I’m going to
have to take you downtown.
And, that, I think, would be how I ended up in jail my first day in Rome.
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