Lately, me and my Tanzanian roommate have bonded by listening to each other's preference in music. My pal introduced me to a variety of the music popular in his home country, and the beautiful Swahili language truly produces sounds that my ears found highly intriguing and entertaining. I exacted revenge by forcing him to listen to my preferences including: Aerosmith, Led Zeppelin, ZZ Top, the Ying Yang Twins, Lil Wayne, Lynrd Skynyrd, and Eddie Money. The harmonious tunes I jammed seemed to provoke a feeling of admiration within his innards. He may repudiate this secret, but he told me something to the effect of, "Michael, man, I find this music soothing to my very core. Thanks for letting me listen to your hooks." Inevitably, I was overwhelmed with excitement after discovering that we seemed to share a rather brilliant taste in music. However, my proudest accomplishment in terms of interacting with him has to be the moments I relish my rhetoric ability. I was always taught to pronounce quesadilla, "case-a-dillya." While trying to integrate my beliefs into his English beliefs, I told him that it is proper to pronounce words like quesadilla or tortilla with a "ya" sound at the conclusion of the word. Initially, he laughed at me and probably thought I was just being funny, but he eventually came to say the Spanish words the way I do. I attribute my monumental accomplishment to my relentless determination and perseverance, as I continuously allowed him to hear the way I spoke.
Discover Simple, Private Sharing at Drop.io
No comments:
Post a Comment