I like living in Greece more than you #3

First off, plaudits and gratitude to the seditious one for providing such a wonderful catch-all title for all manner of posts.

My fix of brown-nosing over, to business, and this is such a marvelous scenario I hope I can do justice.

Scenario: our Greek lessons are at week 41 of 50 and glimmers of parlance are showing through, thanks to the lovely Joanne who chivvies and bullies, cajoles and caresses her bovine herd of pupils along.

When we started, we were a motley bunch - still are - and very defensive and antagonistic.

We're all here under different pretences and pressures. I still don't know all their real names but I know precisely who we all are and how we see each other:

Yours Truly - fluting lord fauntleroy (but with convincing accent; pity about dismal vocab). Anyway, basically an arrogant lighweight.

Mother of Fluter (to whose apron strings he is clearly and pathetically attached - losah): 30 years in Corfu, nice lady, too fluent to need to be in the class. Ah, forgot - sonny boy can't be out alone.

Dai the Chin: tough working class Welsh bloke, no nonsense, retired out here, no idea what's going on. Better learn the lingo, bach.

Marina Bill and Billette: Sailed the world, arrived in Kerkira, liked it and are staying. Better gen up on how to order pie and mash.

Dowager Duquesa: distressed gentle Italian folkette, wants to bring tour groups over from the land of Caesar.

Lucca and his bird: Loudmouth Italian yob whom we hate for his youth (early 20s) and his totally hot chick with the inviting smile

Lonely Lavinia: Single Brit lady of uncertain age, meek and mild

Russian Ivor and his bosomy ladies: Sinister hulk, says little and what he does say is in caricature KGB intonation

You get the drift ('We do, we do. Get on with it' - Ed)

So, lovely Joanne has us read aloud and practise dialogues, which we at first hated but had to get used to over the weeks.

Context: what we read has names and places filled in so we don't use our own names.

OK, cut to the chase.

There's only one main supermarket the foreigners shop at - German "Lidl" - and we've spotted each other there in the past but ignored each other.

The other day - now vaguely proficient in clasroom Greek, remember, if not able to converse with the natives - a bunch of us found ourselves cruising the aisles and ending up queing with the locals at the checkout counters at the same time.

My fault. I cheekily greeted 'Mousy Red-head' with the very first word we learned, "Yeia sas!" Hello!

What followed was pure Pavlovian verbal slapsticks and I wish I'd had my camera to clock the expressions of the natives.

Imagine this in perfect Greek but excruciating pronunciation, each of us chiming in with the next bit from the lessons book as we realised what was happening:

"Yeia sas! Hi!"

Yeia sas! How are you?"

I am well. And you?

I am buying a vegetable

What joyous weather. My name is Yanni Maratos. And you?

I am named Maria Karagianni

From where do you come?

I come from Mexico. Kai eseis?

I am from Austria. Where in Mexico?

Madrid

Oreia! Bravo! And you? Where in Austria?

Palestine. Loipon! So! What business do you do?

I am a teacher

Very good. And you?

I am a mechanic

That is good

At this point, the locals are agape.

"Do you like living in Greece?

I lust for life here. And you?

I like dogs

Since how long are you here in Greece?

Since 4:30

??

I apologise. Since the fourth of yesterday

Are you married?

My husband is good looking

Do you know a good dentist? I want to buy some oranges

The weather has turned cloudy

Truly, this is my daughter

She is very handsome.

All this in absolute staight-faced exchange from line to line.

The expressions on everyone around was classic.

When we got out to our cars we just fell into each other's arms in laughter and high 5's.

Good times out of nowhere.