Friday afternoon French lessons are the hardest. It’s the end of the week, it’s hard to concentrate. There’s a list of things that didn’t get finished, and a list of things you’d just plain rather be doing. Especially when it’s 16 degrees (Celsius) outside in the middle of January. (Even I like nice weather)
But my French lesson is exactly where I found myself this afternoon. After dropping Kaitlyn back at school from lunch I drove to what Kaitlyn calls my French school. I wonder if she pictures me sitting on the floor with other adults, listening to someone read a story, or sitting around a table making blobs with play doh.
Anyway, I went in and today’s teacher was in the lounge with another student (CAT employee) and his teacher for the day. They were carrying on a conversation in French and the only polite thing to do was try to join in. My teacher was recounting his holiday in London. The other two were commenting on their opinion of the city and of British versus French beer (everyone agrees, it’s no contest. If you have to ask who’s the winner, you’ve never tried French beer). Then Friday took over and my mind sort of wandered. I was snapped back to reality when the other teacher addressed me. I thought he asked if I’ve ever been to London. Now, I thought this because I knew the topic was London and I just guessed at the question. I generally follow a conversation by recognizing the subject then sort of filling in the blanks as best I can. So I answered. Unfortunately, he didn’t want to know anything about England He was just telling me that he will be my teacher on Monday. So to that statement, I said About 20 years ago. No wonder he looked so confused as I searched for the phrase. Lundi. Londres. He politely said he supposed the two words sound alike. I wanted to crawl under the table. (please, please, PLEASE, don’t let him bring this up on Monday)
Finally, the chit-chat disaster ended and the regular lesson got started. The teacher has decided that I’m to explain words and concepts in French. That takes some concentration, but I muddled through it. If a sign says a store is open every day but Wednesday what does that mean? It’s open Monday, Tuesday, Thursday, etc. Ah, the cafe was kicking in and the brain was working again. Then he asked me to demonstrate my understanding of how to say I like x more than y. So I said the first thing that popped into my head. I like chocolate more than potatoes. Suddenly, I was a character in a David Sedaris story… being laughed at for my lack of mastery of the French language. Big news headline! he said. Gads, potatoes was the word that popped into my head. I have no idea why. And it is a true statement, albeit a stupid one. I recovered a little by next announcing that I like tea less than coffee.
It’s hard knowing pretty much every time you open your mouth, you’re speaking something half a notch above nonsense. The other day at Kaitlyn’s school, a little boy tried to tell me something about Kaitlyn. All I could do was stare. Here I was, left dumbfounded by a 9 year old. A woman told me pas important. Ok, maybe what he had to say isn’t important. But being able to understand is… and I don’t. And it’s getting increasingly frustrating. I think I could take French lessons every day and it wouldn’t make it any easier.
Pretty soon, Kaitlyn will be able to speak more French than I can. Maybe she can help me out.