Starting a conversation is sometimes important, and can happen even without saying a word. You really don't have to make any vocal effort, and, that is the effort really. When mind is tumultuous, try to find the best spot where you can rest, have a little peace, and get a room for yourself to question Existence. In such a situation, an Algerian immigrant living happily since long in Troyes will corner you with his loud laughs, and he will make it a point not to converse in any language other than French. This Algerian somehow just knows Pakintaan government and English communities too well and is indebted to a great insurance sum which his adopter French Government provided him to fix his leg. Man with an iron leg, Bo, I call him, steals the light because he creates conversations; and has a knack in starting one with non-French speaking visitors like me.
Further towards the day, collecting back change from a blonde waitress for the coffee you just bought will get tangled in conversations with her on what a soxiante or cinquante or cent or vingt vahn would mean. Miss blonde, although not comfortable speaking English likes this conversation, but soon realizes she must not waste her employer’s time, so, hobbles to the next client who has just joined the table behind. Hobo, I will call him, for he looks a little ragged and alone. Note, this is France, he starts on a polite note then is quick to shift on a tangle tacky conversation with the young waitress if a combination of soxiante or cinquante will be able to fetch him a reasonable coffee, or rather what it would be. He is well mannered, and makes use of a borrowed conversation. I leave the table, and French to their wits.