Suz Learns French

There’s a whole list of French words that translate to stubborn.  By far my favorite is tête de mule.  It’s the easiest one for me to remember.  I also like têtu et têtue.

I know this girl, she est très têtue.  Mon ami têtu (my stubborn friend) and I have a secret.

This femme (woman) is très, très têtue.  Once her mind is made up, it’s made up.  Final answer.  End of story.  Don’t waste your breath.

Pause tale…quick thought

What does it take to run (courir)?  I don’t mean – what does it take to run a marathon.  I mean – what does it take to run period?  To pick yourself up and juste run.

To Run / Courir:

• Roaming / Promener
• Utterly / Complètement
• Nonstop / Sans arrêt

Thought fades…return to tale

She ran far and fast and hard.

She ran, until she decided she was going to walk…  Parce que elle est têtue – (because she is stubborn) and her mind was made up.  Elle marché vite (she walks fast).

“Should we be worried?”  the running relay team asked me.  “I don’t know,” I LIED!  Knowing all the while – we were in for a long wait.

Elle est fatiguée (she is tired).  I knew she was spent.  I knew when she started her last leg of the relay  she was done.  And I also knew IF she made the decision to walk, she was walking the whole long eight miles, in the dark, by herself.  And I knew there was no talking her out of it.  Been there, done that, ain’t going back.

I knew she’d finish.  Être têtu est une bonne chose (to be stubborn is a good thing).  She never gives up!  But, how long would it take pour (for) la femme obstinée (stubborn)?  Je ne savais pas (I didn’t know)…

Ninety minutes went by – I knew she was walking.

“Should we go look for her?” the girls asked me, knowing if I was worried then they should be too.  “Give her a bit more time,” I said – silently rolling my eyes while thinking – believe me you, this is the last woman you want to go “pick-up,” if she’s having a bad run.

The team’s worry went on.  I just wanted to sleep, but the concerned women kept asking my opinion, “Do you think she’s okay?” “Yep, no worries,” I smiled.  Again in my mind, thinking “têtue, très têtue!”

I felt like I was in cahoots with some grand walking secret. I also had to calculate in my head – her walk time for the eight miles, because at some point I might actually have to send in the troops.  I figured she was walking the full eight miles but you never know, so safety first.

While trying to seem concerned, I quickly processsd the math in my head, I added several minutes for the terrain and a possible potty break.  I figured she should round the corner in no more than two hours and fifteen minutes.  This would be my pulse point.  I had my finger on the button – ready to push it – when…

“She’s here!” (“Elle est ici”) Someone said, “She’s here.”

We quickly switched out runners and she climbed in the van. Everyone talked about how hilly the course must have been (to have taken so long). “Did you have to walk?”  “Did you get sick?”  The questions…oh the questions.

She ran far and fast and hard.

That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.  Vite! Vite!

Suz

Jack of all trades – master of none.

Yep, that’s me.  I’m pretty good at most things – I’m not the best at anything.

I dabble…in many things but really never progress in most – beyond the novice level.

I can speak a little French – believe me nothing fantastic – just some words.

I can run a little – believe me nothing fantastic – I just run.

But this year – I have huge plans / dreams / expectations of myself.

I’m thinking others in their early 50’s are probably busy doing the same thing – trying to fit in as much life as possible.

Presently, I’m in the middle of a life long quest to finally master French.  However, I’m also registered to run a 50 mile ultra marathon.  Holy cow what did I just type! And what will prove to be harder? And how will I find the time for both?

When I run, I practice my French.  Listening to French Language podcasts for miles on end. Currently by myself as my French friend and running partner moved – bisous Latiffa.

When I practice my French, I run.  As the miles pass, I often find myself counting in French, saying the French alphabet, and singing French children’s songs.

I obsessively listen to everything French while running.

Interview with myself:

Do I think this learning method (running while listening to French) is effective?  It hasn’t been thus far.  I still only have about 15 words I feel comfortable using.  It is what it is…

Do I think these two goals (learn French and run 50 miles) are conflicting or compatible? Hands down – conflicting!  But, what else am I going to do on a long run? And what else am I going to do while learning French. I couldn’t possibly devote all my time to just one activity.  I’m a dabbler, a Jack

Why all of this at once? Have you heard the term…Hyper Focus?  For me, when I have just one thing to focus on – I hyper focus on it and often just spin my wheels. By putting these two challenges together (dans ma tête), I’ll be better able to balance out my time and avoid burning out mentally AND physically.  Dans ma tête, I’ll be forced to split my time between the two – there will be no time to hyper focus.  And like most of us, this will be in addition to balancing the other normal plates of life: job, home, family etc…

I’m so excited!

Do I think I’ll be successful?  YEP.  I’m never going to be a French teacher and I’m never going to win the Olympics.  But I will speak French (not sure how much) and I will run 50 miles (not sure if I’ll be able to walk afterwards).

It’s going to take awhile for me to really learn to speak French.  I’m on a five year plan.  But what else are you going to do while you train to run 50 miles (event is in November, I’ll let you know how it goes).  And what else are you going to do while learning French (next trip to France is May 2018).

It’s my pattern – It’s what I do best – dabble vs. master.

Suz

 

 

 

After a long time, 30 plus years and numerous visits to France, I am still only able to use about 15 French words.  I can’t believe how difficult learning this language is for me.  I adore France. I love the county, the culture, the food, the coffee, the wine, the cheese, the people, and the language – however, I can’t understand a thing these people say.

I had big hopes for our most recent trip to France; I truly thought that all my hard work this last year would have made a difference. It didn’t. At least not to the one person I really wanted to impress, my French father-in-law.  He and I have known each other for over 30 years…yet we’ve never had a conversation (as my French stinks and his English is worse). So, during a recent visit to France, I really tried to speak slowly and deliberately to him. Using phrases and words I felt comfortable with. But apparently even after months and months (truth be told – years) of classes and practice, he still can’t understand a flipping thing I say.

It was one hilarious happening after another. The latest incident and there were several memorable moments on this trip, occurred one night at dinner as I tried to make small talk with my father-in-law.  I gathered all my courage and said, “il mange beaucoup de nourriture.”  I was speaking about my husband or should I say I was trying to speak about my husband. I was trying to say he eats a lot. I just wanted to say something simple. It wasn’t even a true statement; I only wanted to engage in conversation.  I planned the whole thing dans ma tète (in my head). I thought about how to say the sentence dans ma tète. I said it dans ma tète. Then I said it fearlessly out loud “il mange beaucoup nourriture.” “Quoi,” he quickly responded back to me. I said it again, this time a little louder, “il mange beaucoup nourriture!” And he repeated with a smirk “Quoi.” I said it yet again, this time a little slower “il mange beaucoup nourriture…” He then mumbled something in French.  My husband sat there wide eyed. I sat there thinking what the heck did this man not understand about what I just said – I said it slow and clear and it was a very simple sentence.

Then…I heard ma belle-mère (my mother-in-law) yell sternly to him in French from the kitchen.  She was obviously scolding him. I cringed and thought oh goodness this is not good. I tried to change the subject by saying in French “regard le ciel,” (look at the sky) as we were on the balcony and it was a beautiful evening. My husband looked at me oddly and said “what?” I replied with a coy look, “changer de sujet…” Half laughing my husband corrected my pronunciation of the word sujet; half crying I took a GINORMOUS drink of my wine.

When ma belle-mère walked back into the room, she continued to reprimand my father-in-law. At this point, I felt really bad and just kept awkwardly saying “regard le ciel.” he responded to her lecture with the typical French “bof.” We all laughed it off and went back to our typical pattern which looks like this – 4 people are in a room, but only 3 can talk at any one time…my husband, his mom and me or my husband, his mom and my father-in-law.

Although strange, this is our norm and it works. Truthfully, we have a great relationship and get along for long periods of time very well. We’ve traveled all over the United States and France together – it’s just that – you know…he and I have never spoken to each other.

Long story short – my father-in-law and I still haven’t had that conversation. We probably never will. As we said our good-byes at the airport he smiled and hugged me tightly and said something in French – but seriously, I have absolutely no idea what he said. But I’m sure it was said with love…then again for all I know he was saying “thank goodness you are leaving and I can have my house back to myself.”

On the other hand, I ordered successfully in the restaurants and I communicated really well at the market and in the stores. In addition, while visiting my husband’s cousins they seemed truly impressed and mentioned my improvements several times. Moreover I picked up several new practical phrases to add to my growing list of words. Most importantly, my sweet half French husband remarked numerous times how proud he was of me for trying so hard.

I’m hoping for real language growth over the next 6 to 12 months. However currently, I’ve plateaued. My mind is just exhausted.

If anyone has any ideas on how I can improve my French, toss them my way.

Ok come on – truth be told, it’s been 30 plus years – who am I fooling. I’m probably never going to get any better; regardless, I’m addicted to France – It’s a beautiful country! Where I am able to rest my mind and simply be me – quiet, still, unrushed and free.

Originally written as a guest blog for one of my favorite travel sites. Edited here to shorten.

Originally written as a guest blog for one of my favorite travel sites.

It’s one thing to learn French but the whole French culture issue is another story.  I love our bi-cultural family and all the experiences it has afforded.  However, Being married to a man whose Mom is French can be both a challenge and a blessing.

Moments that offended my 20 year old self now endear my 50 year old heart.  We are the best of friends but some of the humorous things that have occurred over the years – oh my…

Here’s a snapshot of an afternoon from our recent visit to France.

When ma belle-mère told me this summer “Don’t order a wine,” I just smiled. I should start by saying that over the last 30 plus years, I’ve said to my husband a thousand times “I know that your mom didn’t mean to be rude, but…”

I can’t tell you how many times, she has said things to me that if someone else heard them they would cringe. But, I’ve learned that it’s just – what I’ve come to call lost in translation or LIT.  Over the years I’ve watched for this in other non-native English speakers, and it really exists. It’s hard to describe, but in a nutshell as good as her English is, the little subtleties that occur in a language are LIT. You can translate words, but trying to translate a subtlety is extremely difficult if not impossible. I’m sure I’d have the same issue if I spoke French or another language, but I don’t – cause oh – I can’t but I’m trying.

“Don’t order a wine,” she said as we walked out of the house one afternoon heading downtown to people watch. “Quoi?” I said. “Don’t order a wine, they’ll think you’re a drunk,” she responded. I’m sure the look on my face prompted her follow-up. “French people don’t drink wine in the afternoon – they’ll think you’re a drunk,” she grinned. “Okay… then what should I order?” I said, laughing dans ma tête. “A Panache,” she grinned.

Now, this was not my first or second or even third trip to France. I’ve been to France many times; I’ve been to French gatherings, restaurants, homes, etc… It’s different but it’s not that different. I’ve never been uncomfortable and I don’t ever recall anyone ever being rude to me. I usually just follow along and I’ve never had any problems. So, as I explain this, I don’t want it to sound like she was trying to school me in French etiquette. She wasn’t. She was really just trying to say, have a great time.  No for real, that’s all she meant. Don’t read into it. There was no sarcasm intended. She just wanted us to have a nice time and of course to subtly remind us that the French don’t drink wine in the afternoon while people watching.  LIT at its finest.

When I was pregnant with my daughter, I planned on naming her Danielle. Until the day I got a letter in the mail from Ma belle-mère that said “I guess a name like Jennifer just wouldn’t be good enough for you guys.”  What she really meant was – she liked the name Jennifer and she was tossing it out there as an option. My daughter’s name is Jennifer.

Just so you know, I personally would not have ordered a wine in the afternoon. Normally I would have ordered a grand crème to wake me up and my husband would have had a Belgian beer. But, this day I ordered a Panache.

Believe me there have been times that I’ve shaken my head thinking – wow that did not come out very nice. But there’s never any ill intent. It’s merely LIT.

I’ve learned to listen for what she is not saying – rather than to what she is saying. And it’s always with love and good intentions.

Bisous ma belle-mere.

Suz

 

After 33 years you would think I would have progressed to at least French 2.  However, I was informed last week during my trial class (to gauge my level), that-yeah…I’m still testing at French 1.  And further more they recommend I brush up on the basics (as in the alphabet).  Arg!

Here I sit a frustrated Francophile.

I should explain my obsession with France to you.  Basically, for as long as I can remember I’ve wanted to live in France and speak French.  I dreamed of marrying a French man and of riding bicycles in the French country side.  Long story short – I married a man who is half French.  I didn’t get the whole Frenchman package but I did get the whole French Mother-in-law package.  These stories we will visit soon – I promise.  And the humor in them will not disappoint.

Fast forward 30 plus years, I still don’t speak French.  BUT there’s no time like now. Right? Arg! Believe me when I say “I’ve tried”.

Here’s the plan.  Stop, drop and roll. Stand up, brush self off and start all over again.  I’m more determined now than ever to learn French.  I’ve heard people say “sometimes you have to step back before stepping forward”.  This is one of those times.  Therefore, I’ve registered for the recommended review classes.  They should take a month to complete.  I’ve also registered for the private online lessons.  Where I plan to break old habits – and finally learn to speak French.

My word of the day:  Bonne Chance!  Bonne chance à moi.  (Good luck to me).

My goal for the day:  Master the correct pronunciation of the French alphabet (a point the professor recommended during the trial class). Arg!

Au revoir et à bientôt!

Suz