Babel
Babel This morning, on the bus from Huarte to Pamplona, I met Babel. A Senegalese Muslim, father, and one of those rare people who, in just fifteen minutes of conversation, leaves you feeling like you've made a real neighbor in a world full of strangers. I sat next to him almost instinctively. We started in French — I correctly guessed he came from Francophone Africa — and quickly moved into a comfortable mix of Spanish and French. Then, quite naturally, he suggested we continue in Basque (Euskera). I was pleasantly surprised. I’ve been studying it patiently: with customers at my restaurant-café, with Basque radio and television here in Navarre. He is learning it too. He has friends who are fishermen on the Gipuzkoa coast, and there, immersed on boats out at sea, Basque has come more easily to him. We spoke for a while in Euskera, both of us laughing at our mistakes as fellow learners. Babel speaks Wolof (his mother tongue), French, Spanish, English, and now Basque. He is hardwork...