Long ago, I stated that I would learn to speak French
before I died and suppose the good news is, it appears that I will be alive for long time yet.
It’s been 7 years since we moved to France. Before moving, I
planned to learn my new country’s mother tongue before residing here permanently
in December, 2010. I figured it might take 3-6 months if I completely immersed myself, so I listened to French
language CD’s on my hour long commute to work. I downloaded French language and
the Le Monde news apps on my phone. We took weekly French lessons and I tried
to implement “let’s only speak French at the dinner table” with Hank and
Caleigh even though they were never quite as keen on the idea as I was.
Guess who is fluent and earning a degree in language and
literature?
Guess who couldn’t conjugate a verb if his life depended on
it, but everyone seems to understand better than me?
Pas moi.
No, I’m the one who used to practically do a Heil Hitler
salute when someone began speaking to me due to my nervousness and probably a subconscious
desire for the French speaker to slow the hell down. I’m the one looking like a
deer in the headlights and found myself standing awkwardly at our neighbor’s party recently seemingly
unable to utter the most basic response when asked a simple question. I was
apparently so bad in fact, that this French charmer felt it was her duty to let
me know it and berate me publically right then and there.
Insert incredulous french accent here: “I not believe you live here during seven year and you not talk French,” she said. “How is that even possible? How are you surviving?” she continued while I mustered enough courage and responded
to her to the best of my ability. I explained that I actually understood a lot
more than it might appear, but I had to admit that I was not as good at speaking French as I would have hoped by now and was why
I continued going to French classes and studied every day. J’essaie (I am
trying.) I wasn’t sure if I wanted to deck her or cry as my eyes were stinging.
But she was right. I should be fluent by now and it is
terribly embarrassing that I am not. I really want to carry my conversations to
the next level and get beyond weather, children and work questions,
not-to-mention, to not feel so freaking awkward at functions where English is not
spoken. Here it was only 7pm and all I wanted was to go home rather than risk
another cringe worthy episode as we were the only non French people there so it was going to
be a long night. But we did not. Hank
defended me as he always does and explained in his completely unconjugated vocabulary
while pronouncing each and every consonant, that I actually spoke fine French.
Ha! He was amazing and managed to talk me down from my self-imposed cliff and
we ended up staying for the duration as everyone else was kind and patient as the
majority of French people have always been with us.
Cruela ended up going inside and did not appear to socialize
with anyone throughout the night, so perhaps it wasn’t just me she had the issue
with. Maybe it had to do with Le Pen losing last week...
Whatever the reason, she’s given me the kick I needed to make this fluency
thing a priority. Just to prove her wrong would be reason enough, but I know
deep down that this is for me and that I can do it. Jamais arretez - never stop (give up)!
