'Hush', I whispered to Emilia, the Romanian hairdresser I sit with in class.
She was torturing Kasia and I, counting down until class ended ... 60 minutes to go. They were ill with a cold and I was trying to function on the 3 hours sleep of last night.
When she recovered from laughing she explained.
'We hear only on film the way that you speak.'
On the bright side, she laughed less hysterically than when I mentioned Brad Pitt ... that time she made me repeat myself to Kasia, the Polish economist.
Ahhh there's nothing quite like having a Kiwi accent out here in the world.
Today Emilia consoled me through laughter, assuring me that Jose the Spaniard was so much worse with speaking ... so much worse.
Perhaps my visa application folder actually has 'speech impediment??!' stamped on the cover.
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