IF YOU DON'T ASK ...

“Je suis… uh… journaliste… student…?”

I was embarrassing myself royally, but the man and woman behind the counter of the artisan bakery seemed to recognize what I was attempting to say. Joe Proudman and Katrina Kane pulled out their digital SLR cameras as I asked, “Photo?”

We had stopped at this bakery near the St. Augustin Cathedral hunting for a photo opportunity. Its window displayed artisan bread molded into shapes like elephants, bicycles and the Eiffel Tower. If we could just capture them making the bread, shaping the bread, baking it and selling it, we’d have a lovely but simple little photo essay.

The woman was friendly enough but the man was more suspicious after I butchered his native tongue. She dashed downstairs after I asked the question while the man held his hand as if to say “Wait one minute.”

So we did.

Suddenly, a torrent of shouting, clanging and what I assume was French cursing bellowed from downstairs. Joe, Kristina and I looked at each other as another man, presumably a baker, yelled up a storm from beneath the shop floor. Then the man who was still behind the counter suddenly left through another door.

No one else was left on the shop floor but three very bewildered American student journalists.

“What happened?”
“I have no idea.”
“Should we leave?”

My first thought was to repay this awkwardness in kind by taking all of their bread and running like mad. But my taste for practical jokes gave way to my desire to be ethical, and so we stayed for a few extra minutes just in case anyone else would come back and, you know, tend to their storefront.

One girl did, but we wanted to talk to the original couple to see if all was well with them. They didn’t return. And so we awkwardly backed out of the store and on our way to hunt down another story.

“Was it something you said?” Joe asked me as we walked.
“I have no idea!”
“Well I’m going to blame you anyway,” he said half-jokingly, I think.

Will we ever know what the hell happened?
Probably not.

Am I proud of my complete lack of French skills?
No.

Am I glad we asked anyway?
Yes.

Because if you don’t ask, you never know. And if we talk to 100 people who all reject us, we simply move on to person number 101, and keep moving, moving, moving until we get the story.

Suzanne Yada
Managing Editor
Magazine Journalism
www.suzanneyada.com