Engrish

I'm sure many of you are already familiar with Engrish, the delightful misuse of English words and phrases often seen on foreign clothing and packaging, particularly Japanese imports. (Those of you who delight in stores like Uwajimaya will be familiar with such hits as the beverage "Pocari Sweat".) I've also seen a fair bit of Engrish here in Moldova, from my former host sister's "just sleep with me" t-shirt to a little girl's "degrade girl" jumper. Yes, English finds its way onto products in every corner of the globe these days. What can I say, my native tongue is just so damn cool!

The love and use of English -- without regard to one's understanding of it -- can also lead to some pretty entertaining incidents for us few in-the-know. A new store, similar to an American Walmart, recently opened in my town. Unlike in American stores, where the goal is apparently to lull shoppers into a money-blowing daze through the implementation of subtle muzak versions of Celine Dion hits, in Moldovan stores the goal is to...okay, I'm not sure, there's absolutely no consistency. I was buying groceries the other day to blaring Linkin Park, a band that (sorry Jeremy) pretty much blows whether you understand the lyrics or not. I'm pretty open-minded musically and young to boot, so if I don't enjoy picking out produce to grating rap-rock fusion, I'm pretty sure the babas don't either.

But I digress. There have been far greater musical mishaps than a little Linkin Park. So anyway, the other day Nic and I decided to explore our new Metro, or Moldovan Walmart, and as I pushed my cart through the delightfully spacious and product-filled aisles, what to my startled ears should appear but.... Now, admittedly Moldovans overall do share a love for techno that spans all age groups and would completely confound American adults. There is, to the best of my knowledge, no easy-listening station here. No, it's pounding beats all day, everywhere, from the 8am bus ride to the 5pm dinner out.

But this was something special. Suddenly I was transported back to the many Saturday nights I spent shaking my groove thing at Portland's underage gay club.

"Don't don't don't don't...don't want no short dick man..."

Oh yes, they went there.

Not long after, I was out to pizza at another newly opened establishment (this country is changing before my eyes, I tell you) which boasts a nice family-friendly atmosphere, complete with fairy tale themed decorations and a large play area, enjoying the hip-hop beat coming from the speakers when I began to pay closer attention. Why...that's odd...is that young man saying what I think he's saying?

"Gettin' some head, I was gettin' some head..."

I've since found the song, by rapper Shawnna, online -- it's pretty catchy, even if not the most lyrically complex. You can check the video out here.

[Random trivia tidbit: Do you know who is Shawna's dad? None other than blues great Buddy Guy! He must be so proud.]