Say What?!

Whoops… it’s been awhile.

There are a lot of things I should have been blogging about in the past two weeks. To be terribly honest it’s been such a whirlwind I’ve barely had time to balance school planning, April vacation planning, job searching and an active social life… throw in the warm weather and I think that besides sleeping I haven’t spent more than 2 hours in my room a day in the last two weeks. 

But perhaps I should have been keeping you updated on that time…

 We went to the theatre and saw 3 middle-aged men on stage naked except for some cardboard cutouts of clothing items that were swiveled and swapped periodically throughout a song about two nudists living in an apartment.

World's Greatest Cheese

I tried what was proclaimed “World’s Greatest Cheese 2011” at the foyer wine and cheese tasting. It was French, naturally.

A student asked me if he could come to more of my classes to practice his English.

I went to La Rochelle, France on a day trip and got to lie on the beach and look at pirate graffiti all in one day.

La Rochelle

We stayed out dancing late enough to get a bakery croissant on the bike ride home.



We were invited to dinner from someone who works in administration from our school… and were treated to 3 bottles of wine, foie gras, quiche, 6 different types of cheeses, and fruit salad dessert. The last of which was served at midnight. Because that’s how long French dinners can last sometimes.

We went to the beach on a Wednesday and it was the perfect day.

 But you’re in for a treat today, dear blog readers (who I hope haven’t given up on me despite my lack of posts recently).  Today I shall give you a glimpse at one of the best parts of attempting to speak a foreign language in daily life… the mistakes. All the “bloopers” if you will. My mother has heard most of these and encouraged me to share them with you. I hope you find them as humorous as these real-life situations have been, and I’ll do my best to help you understand even if you don’t speak both languages.

The first is not so much a language mistake but a big part of living here all the same-  the simple freedom in being able to say whatever you want, in any situation, because you think no one can understand you. Speaking English here allows you to loudly say things like “It smells like someone poo’d their pants on this tram” without worrying about offending the person who does smell like they poo’d their pants. Until someone leans over and asks you in perfect English where you’re from. Which happened not all that long ago.

For the second, I first must apologize because I try to avoid using names in my blog, but at this point it is necessary to understand the joke…

One assistant moved into the foyer about a week before everyone else and was quite lonely and eager for us all to get here. The staff knew she would want to meet any new residents as soon as they arrived, and they told her when Thomas (pronounced Toe-Ma in French) moved in.

She replied that no, she did not want any “tomates” (pronounced Toe-mahts in French) because she had just purchased them from the store.

The foyer staff tried to tell her that no, Thomas was English.

She then told them that she had purchased “tomates” from Spain, but that’s ok. They didn’t have to be English.

One evening, while lounging around downstairs making some kind of delicious treat, our English friend declined said delicious treat stating “Non, je n’aime pas les amandes” (No, I don’t like almonds) which sounded a lot like “Non, je n’aime pas les allemands” (No I don’t like Germans).  Which unfortunately our German friend overheard.

My friends and I were walking to the tram stop to go out for the night, and one friend was in the middle of telling us a detailed “I was almost mugged by a group of 13 year olds at Espace Diderot” story. A French friend interrupted and asked “Oú ça?”  (where did this happen?). My friend stopped his story, looked puzzled for a minute, and thinking he had been interrupted by someone saying "Bonsoir" (Good Evening) replied “Bonsoir” before continuing his story.We now like to throw this word randomly into our conversations.

One of our French friends sometimes likes to use his conversational English with us. While playing a game he called us a “Shitter”.  You meant “Cheater” right? Unless you are trying to tell me that I smell like I just poo’d my pants on the tram.

We have since teased this friend a lot because of this one, hilarious mistake. Sometimes we like to call him a Shitter just for fun. He got very defensive one particular time that we were teasing him. Trying to make him feel better, my English friend told him “Non, tu me fais plaisir avec ta langue”, trying to say “Your language makes me happy” but instead saying “You give me pleasure with your tongue”.  The tables then turned, who was laughing at who.

Along that unintentional sexual note, even though the 2 kiss on the cheek tradition is called “les bises” and the verb that you are taught in school for “to kiss” is “se baiser”… nowadays it means  “to have sex”. This vocabulary is very useful when gossiping in French… I once accidently told a friend that I saw someone having sex on the dance floor of a bar one night. Which in France, the capital of PDA, I would not be all that surprised to see, but  was not the case this specific time.

I almost forgot, the time that someone was explaining that they were making dinner with a pan and said "cuisiner a poele", which came out a lot like saying that she was cooking naked in her room instead. 

And my favorite… One of my friends was horrified to learn that instead of yelling what he thought was “Repeat after me”, he was instead yelling “Fart again, after me” to his middle school children in class. How those kids stifled their giggles is still a mystery.

Learn another language. It’s funny.

Bisous,

Steph