Quand quelqu'un  (me) parle de son pays, j'avoue n'être pas sûr de bien comprendre: aurait-il acheté un pays? en aurait - il pris possession? ne serait - il pas plutôt atteint de folie? Et si d'aventure, il ajoute être fier de "son pays", là je me dis  que ce gars -là  doit être tellement con qu'il mériterait d'être fusillé. Mais n'en concluez pas que j'en tire quelque conclusionn car j'en suis, comme disait l'autre nigaud, perplexe au point de me demander si je suis vraiment vivant ou si je ne suis pas déjà mort.

But when I'm asked, for some reason or other which, in any case, can only be unimaginably silly, where I live, I feel so irritated as to be overwhelmed by an uncontrollable reaction of anger; I, of course, do know that "live" here has the sense of "reside", but all the same, I do hear the "live" and I can't help asking myself if I do live, the more so as I'm not even sure of existing. Even the words "reside" or "stay" or "remain" are far from being as simple and self - evident  as most people would tend to think. But then most people  tend to be dumb, and the dumbest  are never those we'd think of as being incurably dumb. This having been said, I should add that I can only praise my lucky stars that "Where do you live." was not followed by "How do you live?" In some countries, one should always expect the unexpected.