That’s why Grandma did me a favor in Wales. This trip made me want to learn languages, to taste the strangeness, and that’s what I did. I travel a lot and even with just yes and no, please, thank you, excuse me and a few versions of hello, life can be good in any language and the weird can stop being weird. Just start being more and the world will open up. And I don’t listen well – I’m a person who prefers mountains to people and gives you monologues on the radio – I don’t listen to you, do I? When I come back from travel, I often drop please, thank you, excuse me, which means I’m being rude without realizing it. And because I don’t absolutely have to, I can stop paying special attention to others in a way that helps me understand them, so that we can be helpful to each other, or just smile, or just go our way contentedly. Which isn’t about vocabulary, it’s about remembering that everyone deserves my courtesy until proven otherwise. More words give me more paths to and from other people’s hearts, more points of view – I don’t think that’s a bad thing. Especially now, I know that I missed my grandmother too much – my wonderful, unusual, hard-to-translate grandmother – because I didn’t pay her enough attention, didn’t listen to her, and then she was gone.