Lost in translation

Our first participation in the Portland's Quiz Show could be described with a lot of words: disastrous, catastrophic, apocalyptic... But, above all, it was a warning sign with flashy glimmering lights telling us, shouting to us, that our English wasn't as good as we thought it was. We were too self-confident, too cocky, after several months of intensive study. And after several beers too. But everything was against us. To begin with, perhaps we were the only Spanish guys there (including, as "Spanish guys", our dear Italian girl named Robi and the American friend of Lourdes) and we were also the most novice people in da house. Because of the odd dynamic of the Quiz, the difficulty of the questions and the event speekers's Scotishness we were utterly lost in translation. That's why, I suppose, in the end we started eating Doritos and talking about puritanism, Janet Jackson's nipple and willful wet dreams. The show was still going on but not with us. Lourdes had got an interview today (her last step on her way to the US) and I'm not really sure if that crazy night has been or not the best training for it... Anyway, we truly enjoyed the time there and now we can say we're wiser than we were before. Or did you know that there are 25 prime numbers between 0 and 100? Now we know it... And so do you.