Lost in Translation: Conversations with Madame M

I received an email from my friend "Madame M" last week inviting me to tea and commenting on my blog. She is one of my few french friends who understands enough english to enjoy reading it, and I always appreciate her perspective. I was anticipating our rendez-vous as I wanted to clarify a cultural misunderstanding, something lost in translation (as is wont to happen). I mentioned in a previous entry the lack of conveniences here that are commonly found in the United States, such as garbage disposals. Not only have I never seen one installed in any kitchen in France, the french have never even heard of such a thing! How can this be? She had written informing me as to why. She explained that there were garbage disposals in Paris at one time, but because of a problem with terrorists their use was discouraged. Apparantly the terrorists were planting bombs in them......now pause for a moment and imagine the visual: Workmen dressed as plumbers arrive to install your brand new garbage disposal (perhaps you are rennovating your kitchen). You suspect nothing unusual as you avert your eyes from the obligatory exposed butt crack. You sign the invoice, write the check, the men depart. You enter the kitchen eager to test your new gadget. You flip the switch and - KABOOM! I was confused, were the victims diplomats? It seemed odd, until I read further. She went on to say that after the garbage disposal ban, parisians were obliged to carry their garbage home with them because the clear plastic bags offered on the streets are always full. That's when I understood - to her a "garbage disposal" was a trash bin! I couldn't blame her, it does make sense. I suppressed the urge to clarify the misunderstanding by return mail, opting instead to have a laugh together in person. Finally the afternoon of our tea party arrived. She offered crépes and chocolat chaud, and we sat down to chat. When the subject of my blog was broached I explained my confusion as I read her explanation of exploding garbage disposals and the nationwide ban. She interrupted to insist it was true, terrorists had been planting bombs in garbage disposals all over town and it had become a real safety issue. And she didn't understand what I found so funny about it! I launched into a detailed description of what americans call a garbage disposal, complete with sound effects and a sales pitch of their finer points. She was unimpressed. We argued about water treatment issues (which had nothing to do with it, but that's the french way), noise issues, and in the end she didn't accept the concept at all -which is also the french way. In the end we shared no laughter on the subject, after all there is nothing very amusing about exploding poubelle! Excusé moi.