Underwater

Coming to Paris, we knew there would be a language adjustment. I’d heard that one can get by in Paris without speaking French and I have met people who do it. However, H and I always believed that to get the most from our experience here we wanted to, as much as possible, live and work in French. 

Easier planned than done.

Houman’s French is excellent. He is working every day in a French hospital, talking to French colleagues and patients. Watching the TV news at home, he thinks he is getting about 95% of it.

My learning curve has been considerably flatter. For the first few months, I was comfortable being uncomfortable with the language. It was to be expected: I was new here and trying to understand the menus and the markets was a novelty.

It wasn’t until recently that I became deeply aware of how affected I am being on the outside of the language I am living in. I think my French has improved since arriving. I would hope so: I am taking two private lessons a week. I also go to a small group lesson called Parlons Paris which is more like a cultural immersion: two retired school teachers share their love of French language and culture with a one hour session in a café followed by a one hour walk-about in a new neighbourhood. We learn some history, some interesting expressions and some grammar all while exploring Paris. I have also started going to a conversation group with other parents from the school. We talk in French for an hour and then English for an hour. I tried one intensive week at the Alliance Française but found that with the large class sizes it was not as effective as I would have liked. I am listening to podcasts, watching French television, and practicing as much as possible. 

That being said, I still open most conversations with, “desolé, mon français n’est pas bien”, and it is true: my French is not good.  I am now brave enough and skilled enough to ask questions of people but sadly my comprehension is not always strong enough to understand their answers. This can lead to some awkward moments.

What I didn’t predict is the feeling that comes from spending your day surrounded by people that you can only understand if you really, really concentrate and sometimes not even then. I can’t pick up conversations from the people around me. I can stand on a busy metro with people talking and not know a thing about what has been said. The overhead announcements are a mystery to me. I understand some billboards and signs but for others I need my dictionary. This slows the pace of understanding. My exchange of daily pleasantries with the people around me is limited and if someone says something to me more than merci, bonne journée or au revoir, I may not catch it in time to respond. I fear this makes me seem rude. I don’t have the simple little phrases that we all share in daily life and I don’t dare to attempt humor. It is like I am living underwater. 

I am reading “Paris to the Moon” by New Yorker writer Adam Gopnik. He talks about his experience in Paris as an expatriate. The book was written in 2001 but many of the sentiments from his essays still ring true for me. He writes, “Even after two years of speaking French all the time, I feel it. We breathe in our first language, and swim in our second.” This sums up how H and I sometimes feel, me more often than him: It is hard to have a personality in French. It is difficult to make meaningful personal connections. It is like your personality is dulled a little. I can express simple sentiments but anything complex is left unsaid.

I will continue to try but have adjusted my goals somewhat. I hope to be functionally fluent in French before I leave this beautiful city. I hope to exchange daily pleasantries with people and completely get over my blank stare responses. I would like to take a class in French and learn something from it. I would like to enjoy a French museum tour. I would like to live my day to day life with zero anxiety about being unable to communicate in any given situation.

I don’t expect to read a French novel for pleasure. I don’t expect to have an intensely intellectual conversation in French. 

I don’t expect to breathe in French. I just want to improve my swimming.