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Speak, Minotaur!

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The first time I ever saw snow was when I was four years old, at school in Paris. Being the one American child at the French school, I spent recess that first day being chased around the shoolyard, getting pelted by snowballs.

That night, at home, in tears, I explained the problem to my mom. Since I didn't yet know how to speak French, she suggested I try to get them to stop using visual signals.

The next day, when recess came, I was again attacked. I ran away at first, snowballs exploding around me, then stopped and bravely faced my tormentors. I raised my hand in the universal hand-signal for "stop", palm out-facing like the most stoic, brass-buttoned policeman I'd ever seen in books.

They laughed and continue to pelt me.

Chez Zeus: Speak, Minotaur!: Station No. 28

Last modified: Thu Mar 31 16:14:13 2005
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