Breanne studied French (and Spanish and Communication) at U of Iowa, and for the longest time of our marriage, totally buried the language.  At some point when I felt sporadic and wanted to know what something meant in French, I'd ask her, and she'd lazily say, "I forgot everything."  Which was a complete shock to me considering she had to read novels in French. 

Then we arrived in Morocco.  Years of pushing and embarrassing her back in the states to speak French, finally I get to see it in action.  And it was AMAZING.  

Morocco speaks Arabic first, French second, and hopefully English if you're lucky.  The cab driver that dropped us off and our hostel host both spoke English, so I thought this would be a piece of cake.  Then we go to restaurants.  Then we go to buy fresh fruit smoothies in the square.  Then we try to ask how to get our laundry done.  Then we go and try to book a train.  And hail a cab.  All French.  I start the convo with simple gestures such as pointing, and putting up a number 2 for both Breanne and me.  When that fails, I then result to stumbling, "Uhhhh," and here comes the savior.  Breanne effortlessly floats along her beautiful French language awoken from years past.  

Honestly, I was beside myself staring at a person that I've never heard speak French.  Finally!!  She was rewarded each time with a fist bump, and a head nod.  Pretty cool experience.