Aug. 3rd, 2010 11:39 am
About that français thing
Making my way to the café for a little breakfast before work today, I, as is my wont, rehearsed what I might say to any Spanish-speaking buddies I might run into. What immediately popped into my head was, "Buenos dias, ça va?"
Sums up my conversational challenges in a nutshell. Five days ago, I would've had the opposite problem. Of course, five days ago I'd never really spoken more than two consecutive sentences of French in my life. It's been twenty years since my last visit to a Francophone country and back then all I had at my disposal were the simplest tourist phrases. Now that I think of it, all my boyfriends have spoken French, but our rare exchanges never amounted to much.
Several times the first day, I found myself wishing the people around me spoke German like sensible foreigners. Montreal is usually described as a "bilingual" city, but it is in somewhat the same way that Chicago is "racially-mixed". The only three people I met who were truly equally comfortable in both languages were a retired translator, a government employee now living in Ottawa, and a Montreal native of mixed French-Anglo parentage.
That's not to say that most people around me didn't have good English or that they weren't more than willing to speak it to me. But I always felt at a disadvantage making acquaintances since, right off the bat, they had to cater to my shortcomings. The saving grace was that--in spite of all time he's spent there over the years--le Lutin's French is surprisingly weak, so I benefitted from being by his side most all of the time. My one real solo effort, with a FOAF who accompanied us to the summit of Mont-Royal, was passable, if at times excruciating.
( Technical details )Most clerks were very understanding and patient, even when I bamboozled them with senseless requests. Such as in the market when I tried to buy "peameal bacon". I don't know if I'd've had any more success if I'd asked for "back bacon" of if it's just not a common cut in Québec.
Sums up my conversational challenges in a nutshell. Five days ago, I would've had the opposite problem. Of course, five days ago I'd never really spoken more than two consecutive sentences of French in my life. It's been twenty years since my last visit to a Francophone country and back then all I had at my disposal were the simplest tourist phrases. Now that I think of it, all my boyfriends have spoken French, but our rare exchanges never amounted to much.
Several times the first day, I found myself wishing the people around me spoke German like sensible foreigners. Montreal is usually described as a "bilingual" city, but it is in somewhat the same way that Chicago is "racially-mixed". The only three people I met who were truly equally comfortable in both languages were a retired translator, a government employee now living in Ottawa, and a Montreal native of mixed French-Anglo parentage.
That's not to say that most people around me didn't have good English or that they weren't more than willing to speak it to me. But I always felt at a disadvantage making acquaintances since, right off the bat, they had to cater to my shortcomings. The saving grace was that--in spite of all time he's spent there over the years--le Lutin's French is surprisingly weak, so I benefitted from being by his side most all of the time. My one real solo effort, with a FOAF who accompanied us to the summit of Mont-Royal, was passable, if at times excruciating.