Do you speak French?
If so you know the three words written below:
Chapon Rouge,
Moulin Rouge
Haricot Rouge.
When I met Yann he did not speak English, and I did not speak French.
Yes, it was tad hard to communicate. You might say it was the language of love. Which it was with a lot of sign language.
After one year of living in the States, Yann was speaking English.
We moved to France.
I thought that when we arrived in France, Yann would speak to me in French.
But no.
We kept on speaking English.
I gathered French words here and there.
At the grocery store, at the post office, at a dinner party…
The first words I learned were basic:
Merci = Thank you.
Bonjour = Hello.
Combien = How much?
Oui = Yes.
Sortie = Exit.
Rue = Street.
Enchanté… Which I heard people say to me when they first met me. "Nice to meet you."
Learning French was not easy. It was frustrating. I was frustrated. Twenty five years ago when I would ask a French storekeeper, or someone on the street, "Parlez-vous Anglais?" They gave me a frustrating, "Non." Smiling was not in their vocabulary.
Yann kept speaking English to me. His English improved and my French, well, did not.
A few years later we had some babies.
I wanted them to speak English, to be bi lingual.
If you have ever lived in a bi lingual household you know the gift and the grit of daily conversation. Yann spoke French to the children, as did the rest of the land. I spoke English to them. I soon learned that if my children were to be completely bi lingual I was going to have to talk, and talk alot. Otherwise their vocabulary was going to be limited to: Get yours shoes. Come and eat. Button your coat. Sit still. Go to sleep.
I read books. Many of them. Suitcases full of books.
Chelsea and Sacha are utterly bi lingual. Flawlessly. No accents. It is my pride and joy accomplishment. During that time my French took a back seat.
I could go on and on, story after story, day after day, gift and grit of learning French while, teaching English to two little people.
But I will save that for another day.
Nearly two weeks ago I decided, against Yann's wishes, to speak only French to him.
I speak French. With the heaviest of accents, but understandable nevertheless. Though the real challenge isn't the speaking part, it is the feeling that I am not me. I feel like I am a different person… really weird.
Wednesday Word… is created… the story of speaking in French.
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