We started walking again, and now I was determined to remember more.
“Der Mann ist alt und die Frau ist jung,” I declared.
Stefan glanced at me. “Who exactly was this old man and young woman? Were they in the textbook?”
I ignored him. “I can also ask where the train station is.”
“Now thatisalways useful.”
“And,” I added, with what I felt was a flourish, “my hovercraft is full of eels.”
Stefan stopped again. This time, he just gaped at me. “Your—what?”
“It was in the textbook.” I shrugged. “I assume it comes up a lot in conversation.”
Stefan stared at me for a long moment. “Yes,” he announced solemnly. “All the time.” His lips twitched.
I narrowed my eyes. “You’re making fun of me.”
“Only a little.”
“That wasyearsof education.”
“Oh, I can tell.”
I folded my arms. “Well then. You can teach me something more useful.”
Stefan tilted his head. “Careful,” he said. “You might regret that.”
We paused near one of the enclosures, watching a group of animals lazing in the afternoon sun.
I frowned. “What are those?”
“Capybaras.”
“I’m going to need the German for that.”
Stefan didn’t hesitate. “Wasserschwein.”
I blinked. “Water… pig?”
“Yes.”
I looked back at the animal, then at Stefan. “You’re making that up.”
He widened his eyes. “I’m not, I promise.” He pointed to the info panel. “Check it there if you don’t believe me.”
I narrowed my gaze. “I don’t trust this language.”
Stefan laughed. “Oh, it gets worse.”
“I don’t doubt it.”
He pulled out his phone and typed. Then he handed it to me.
I peered at the screen and read aloud, “Verschlimbesserung. What does that mean?”
“Simply put, it’s a failed, well-intentioned fix that results in a net negative outcome.”