By LORRAINE LILJA, Innocent Bystander
About a week ago, a song from the distant past brought back memories.
"Besame Mucho" (Kiss Me A Lot) debuted in 1941 and was sung by everyone who was anybody. It was written by a Mexican girl before her 20th birthday and earned the accolade of Song of the Century.
The composer, Consuelo Valazquez, died in 2005 at 84.
The memory it evoked in me was not from an auspicious occasion — an annual midsummer celebration at a Finnish Social Club in Brooklyn in the '40s. But the club member who sang the song by the light of a towering bonfire had a thick Finnish accent. And like most Finns, she had trouble with the pronunciation of "ch," so instead of "Bess-a-may-moo-cho," she sang, "Bess-a-may-moot-so."
Somehow, the mispronunciation of a language in yet another language was very funny to us, and we giggled at every "moot-so."
In retrospect, I'm glad I spent so much time in New York among the people of many nationalities. We got to appreciate the customs and a few of the cuss words. We came to like the exotic foods, for the most part. My friends and I ate at a different ethnic restaurant every Saturday night.
I attended seder on Fridays, where a Jewish mother prepared the favorite dish of each of her eight children!
Block parties brought out the music and folk dances of the hosts.
Holidays found folk garbed in their national costume.
We went to the sauna for a steam bath. Incidentally, that is pronounced 'sow-na,' like a female pig, not 'saw-na' like the tool. People are careful to say French words correctly; why not the Finnish?
I still prefer ethnic dishes much more than the current fad for tofu and remote grains that make up hippy diets.
I enjoy them "moot-so."
Lorraine Lilja is a retired Press-Republican reporter. A collection of her columns, "Lilja's World," is for sale at local bookstores. Lilja can be reached at llilja17@hotmail.com
.
