Ingredient 1:
Mister Slocombe, a nomadic South African, speaks fluent Afrikaans. While the "kitchen Dutch" language, which is a sort of highly developed pidgin, is somewhat understandable to Jan Dutchman, my partner can communicate clearly with Jan Q. Dutchman.
Ingredient 2: You can't buy ice in Dutch gas stations as one can in the US, and our American friend was thirsty.
Mix and Pour:
My Partner asks for "Eis blokkies", and the kind attendant at the gas station gives him directions to a nearby grocery store. "Tweete links" (second left), she says, and our American friend's face blows up and changes colour immediately. What she heard was this:
And now she thinks the Dutch are all people like this:
I wish I had a Euro for every time I heard "Dink Dink Twinkle Dink" during our mini-vacation.
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