« Dining Out and About (Paris): To eat, perchance to dream | Home | New look »
A year in a French market: Conversation exchange
By Ann | November 3, 2009
I’d been feeling pretty confident about my French. I know it’s silly, but we all have our petty vanities. And I’ve worked really hard to learn this fickle language. Don’t get me wrong — it’s far, far, far from perfect. But considering that eighteen months ago I couldn’t even count higher than 69, and now I’m perfectly capable of having (admittedly, slightly airheaded) conversations, I was feeling pretty proud. Too proud. One might even say, cocky.
But then the other day, while I was renewing my gym membership, I got my comeuppance. See, to renew your gym membership you need to take a new photo, and to take a new photo you have to jieoto ksieo kejro mboeir wielra wivowie, madame?
Yes, that’s right, I didn’t understand a word she said. I was pretty frustrated about it, too. My face went blank as I tried to figure it out, and failed miserably. There was a pause that seemed to last an hour, and finally, I said, “Comment?” What?
And, in response, she laughed at me. In my face. And then she looked at her colleagues and they all laughed at me too. And I thought, Oh, so this is where all the snotty French people hang out. Behind the welcome desk of the Club Med sports club.
Eventually someone else took pity on me and took my photo. In which I look like I’m about to punch someone.
Anyway, in an effort to avoid future degradation, I’ve found myself a conversation partner, an older woman I’ll call Camille. We meet once a week and exchange 45 minutes of English chit-chat for 45 minutes of French. We’re reading The Elegance of the Hedgehog (L’Elégance du Hérrison), she in English and me in French. Except, Camille reads much better in her non-native tongue than I read in mine. “Did you notice how the references to Marx echo Renée’s own class struggle?” she’ll say. “This book is very profound.” Meanwhile, I’m still trying to figure out who the hell Renée is.
Perhaps all this language confusion explains why I keep buying soft apples in the market. I thought I was asking for a crunchy variety, but they kept turning out mushy. Who knows what I’ve actually been asking for? As one of my French professors used to say to me, “C’est quelle langue que tu parles?” What language are you speaking?
I leave you with some photos of the fall market, and a recipe for applesauce. Because when life hands you mushy apples…
Pumpkins, everywhere…
I like how in France you can buy pumpkin by the slice. Because who wants to eat a whole 40lb pumpkin?
Autumn means wild game in Europe. Are these grouse? Partridge?
Before I moved to France I had no idea scallops were seasonal to winter. They are, and they’re finally back in the market. By the way, they’re sold like this, alive and in the shell. When you buy them, the fishmonger shucks and cleans them for you, and sometimes they still quiver when you poke them.
It still seems a bit early for clementines, but there they were this morning, a huge pile of them. Winter is coming…
Applesauce
Any amount of apples, halved, peeled and cored (I’ve used as few as one)
Water
Place the apple(s) in a saucepan and add a half inch of water to the bottom of the pan. Place over medium-high heat, cover, and bring to a boil. Uncover, lower the heat, and simmer until the apples have softened and broken down into a sauce. Add sugar to taste, if you like (I usually don’t).
Topics: A year in a French market: Autumn | 13 Comments »
13 Responses to “A year in a French market: Conversation exchange”
Comments
« Dining Out and About (Paris): To eat, perchance to dream | Home | New look »
November 3rd, 2009 at 12:20 pm
Don’t be disheartened – the way to learn any language is to keep at it and not be embarassed about making mistakes. Goodness know how I butcher French everytime I step foot into France.
In my defence, I don’t get a lot of practice living in an English-speaking country and only get to spend intermittent few days in France every couple of months. (Or so I claim, anyway)
November 3rd, 2009 at 12:28 pm
Stay away from the reine de reinettes, the queens of mushiness and go for the Boskoop. By the way, I met you briefly in French class last year but you left us for something else, perhaps more structure? Drop me a line if you care to.
November 3rd, 2009 at 4:50 pm
ah how they laughed at me this summer in France with my Spanish/Italian/Polish/Vietnamese versions of French. They laught like crazy here in Ireland too, wehre we supposedly speak the same language (ha, ha, she said parking lot! Stove?! She said stove! Guess how Clones is pronounced here?) You are doing great – C’est la vie!
November 3rd, 2009 at 6:56 pm
I laughed aloud reading this post. I’ve got myself a conversation partner now too…we keep our sessions to chit chat to minimize my embarrassment because (of course) her English is waaaay better than my French.
November 4th, 2009 at 2:37 am
When I arrived in Paris for my junior year abroad in fall of 1987, I experienced the shame and embarrassment of being unable to understand the metro ticket seller asking me for 10 centimes to sqaure her change-making math. After I asked her twice to repeat, she finally said, “Do you ‘ave a piece of 10 centime pliz?” A good lesson for me in humility and a catalyst to soldier on in French, particularly on the listening comprehension front. Plus, for the record, your French is VERY strong!
November 4th, 2009 at 10:26 am
Ann, go easy on yourself! Your French is great! It is impossible to experience all the varied everyday contexts of conversation in a new country and be literate in all the cultural concepts and idiomatic expressions relevant to each. I mean, just think about it, even in English if you stepped into many workplaces, you wouldn’t have a clue what the people who worked there were talking about even though you share their native language … Bon courage!
November 4th, 2009 at 5:24 pm
You have me in s-t-i-t-c-h-e-s! But only because you recount the episode at the gym so well. I completely empathize: someone says something (unfortunately they’re usually asking a question) and the brain does this mad race to trace the root of a word or something – anything – that might indicate what the heck they’re talking about. And yes, just to add to the record: your French is utterly impressive – it seems unfathomable that you can count in *months* how long you’ve been speaking the language.
November 4th, 2009 at 7:10 pm
Do you do the photography for your blog? They are really beautiful. Did you take classes … or is everything in France just beautifully laid out and romantically lit?
November 5th, 2009 at 6:35 am
I hate it when that happens! (Though I can’t think of a time I was laughed at to my face – what a b****.) Bear in mind I’ve been speaking French as many years as you have months. It will get better, but I still have days where I have to ask everyone to repeat themselves, sometimes 3 or 4 times! I figure as long as they don’t bust out the broken English, I’ve won.
November 6th, 2009 at 2:52 am
Laughter is still the best medicine … and I really laughed out loud at your encounters with French. Your sense of humor will eventually slay the language, if not the French.
November 9th, 2009 at 8:17 am
Lil — I bet your French is really good! You’re right, it’s hard to keep up when one is surrounded by one’s native tongue all the time. At least, that’s my story and I’m sticking to it.
Anne — Ahhh, thank you for the Boskoop tip! I do remember you from French class — yes, I left to take a writing class, which was meeting at the same time.
Kim — Isn’t it weird how all foreign language is stored in the same part of our brain? Now, when I try to speak Chinese, French comes out. And, please tell me — what is Clones and how is it pronounced?
Claire — That’s so awesome that you found a conversation partner! Chit chat is good, but do you find you have enough to talk about? I was having trouble making small talk week after week which is why I came up with the book idea.
Chris — Ha! But, yes, a good lesson in humility. I vow to be kind to all ESL speakers!
Heather — I know, you’re right! And forget strange workplaces — sometimes I can’t even understand what friends are saying to me in noisy restaurants! In English!
Anna — Aw, thanks! Actually, midway through my work-out (ie about 15 minutes after interaction above), I kind of did puzzle out what she was saying. Something about taking the photo while exiting. She used the participe présent, which is what threw me.
Ashleigh — Thanks, that is such a nice compliment! No classes — in fact all credit is due to my camera, a Panasonic Lumix. And, also, yes, a lot of things in France are generally beautifully presented and well lit. Especially food. It’s weird but true. All I do is point and shoot!
Camille — She was totally a b****! I wanted to get in her face and be like, Obviously you’ve never lived in a foreign country or you’d be more sympathetic to furriners!
Dad — I’m so glad it gave you a chuckle! I’m looking forward to slaying a certain disgruntled gym employee, that’s for sure.
November 9th, 2009 at 9:02 am
I would die to see your new gym card I.D. photo….
December 27th, 2009 at 12:11 pm
Ann, what I want to see is the picture of that pissed-off picture she took of you!
I ate at least two full bags of clementines during my stay there mid-December. I’d found a clementine soul mate, in fact. The clementines I’m finding in NYC right now are nowhere near as juicy or sweet as the ones I found on Rue Cler. Le sigh.