My grandmother (from Sherman, Texas) was known to say, “I need someone to carry me uptown.” Now picture my little grandmother in someone’s arms being carried somewhere. That’s what I envisioned as a child when I first heard those words. What she meant was (and what I’m confident that you realize), “I would like someone to drive me to the town square for some shopping.” How could anyone misunderstand grandmother’s statement? Well, because it makes absolutely no sense. I speak English, and it still makes no sense.

T-minus three days to departure. I’m learning more and more of the Moore language. Or is that more, more Moore? In truth, I’m learning very little, but I like saying more, more Moore.

Ramadan begins Wednesday, 11 August, and continues for 30 days. If I’m lucky and work diligently on my language skills, perhaps I won’t be repatriated to the U.S. before the end of Ramadan. Fun fact: an important phrase during Ramadan is “Congratulations on drinking water.” Congratulations on drinking water?! Now I’m not entirely unfamiliar with the customs of Islam, but I am as boggled by this congratulatory statement as I was by “carry me uptown.” Still, you’ve got to adore a culture that expresses congratulations on drinking water. I think it will be great fun to learn more Moore.

Then there are the phrases and words in Moore that actually sound like English, or Spanish, or proper French, or some combination thereof. My pea-brain recalls things in odd ways. The words for a fried beignet sounds like a Spanish-English mix: Mas better. Yep. A fried beignet would be mas better than a camel lung. Come on, folks . . . work with me and use that fabulous West African accent. My favorite? Sunday. Saturday is hot, but Sunday is hot, too. Hot, too. That’s how to pronounce the Moore word for Sunday. I know a few other words, too. Yada, yada, yada. Those sounds translate to basket, basket, basket. It’s actually spelled with a G (yaga, I believe); but with that lyrical accent, the G seems to be pronounced more like a D. I want to learn to say, “On Sunday, I want a basket of mas-better/beignets.”

Will I arrive and learn that I’ve completely misunderstood, mispronounced, and generally butchered the Moore language? And what about my French? Incidentally, if the Burkinabe say congratulations on drinking water, what would they say upon knocking back an icy shot of Ciroc?! We can only speculate.