For The Love (and hate) Of A Language, With A Surprising French Twist

Plus, my personal recommendations on the road to fluency, which, if you're not a native speaker, you will never TOTALLY be. So, get over it! And parlez anyway!

As we prepare for our return to the United States, I am ready to leave Paris, and also, I am not. What happened to the things we thought were going to happen that didn’t happen? Why was it SOOOooo much more different moving to Paris than when we would stay for 4-6 weeks at a time? Where were all the “friends” who we knew before who helped us navigate all things French when we vacationed here? More importantly, how could we, despite coming here with all the good intentions in the world of speaking “seulement en français” (only in French), turn into speaking English most of the time and leaving here at the exact same level of fluency that we did when we arrived? Or worse??

The answer to those questions are: it’s really fucking hard moving to another country, everything in daily life takes a LOT longer than you think it will, all those friends who helped you out before are living their fucking lives and don’t have the time to hold your hand, and when you are living in a household where everyone is speaking English, it’s just plain ole easier to speak English, so you do. Because let’s face it, trying to think in a second language all day when you’re over the age of 50 is exhausting.

With all of our revelations and disappointments and “Aha!” moments, it was all too much to put in a single post. So, I have decided to focus on one aspect of expatting for now: the language.

My overall mood the last month has been a bittersweet lull. Sucking in the Parisian air, albeit, polluted, has been an every-chance-I-think-of-it occurrence. My daily walks up the giant steps of Montmartre are sprinkled with moments of stopping to smell the honeysuckle down the road from where the Van Gogh brothers lived. Yeah, THAT Van Gogh. I’ve been smiling more, even though there’s an ache in my heart that this chapter is coming to a close and there will be no fanfare, no parade, no trophy for spending a year preparing to get here, and then, finally living here for ten months. But today, the old man from our favorite boulangerie noticed my smile and my humming and thanked me for my “joie de vivre” on an otherwise gray Parisian morning. Though most days, Paris wins, today I have already won…no trophy or parade necessary.

My morning workout routine. No gym-fee required!

Yes, I may have mastered the ordering of a baguette “tradition” and have finally learned all my body parts and movement lingo from taking exercise classes at Neoness (essentially Paris’ version of New York Sports Club), accomplishments that any of my francophile readers might be salivating over with fomo, but I’m here to tell you that there is ALWAYS some non-native French speaker out there who can say it better, quicker and with fewer grammar mistakes than me. Than you. Than everybody. While this truth is supposed to inspire you to keep chipping away at the old French-a-rooney, these kinds of comparisons can lead to serious and debilitating fears of ever opening your mouth in French again. But don’t let it. Always, always, always, push past the fear of making a fucking mistake and say the fucking thing anyway. (Pardon my French. ;-) My partner, Tor, is a pro at it. He has no shame in mispronouncing the shit out of everything and puts an exclamation at the end. Loud and proud.

Saw this on Pinterest, and Instagram but have no clue who created it. If someone finds out, please let me know so I can credit the genius.

My definition of French: a language that will hypnotize and seduce you with lyrics like, “voulez-vous couchez avec moi ce soir,” and then devastate and turn on you with their slang-speak known as “verlan,” which is, the backwards spelling/pronunciation of words you only know when spelled and pronounced in the right direction. i.e. “C’est fou!” (“That’s crazy!”) becomes, “C’est ouf!” (“That’s crazy,” but backwards.) The point is, just when you think you have gotten to the point in your Duolingo practice of hitting that 1000 streak, you find that you actually don’t know shit in the real world. Don’t even get me started on the Afrikaan accents, the Caribbean accents and the Asian accents. Babbel and Duolingo need to step up their AI game on that shit to incorporate ACCENTS for the torture that already is, listening comprehension. If The Brutalist can do it, so can they.

But let’s just say you study your little fesse off and take the B1 intermediate exam and pass it. Félicitations! Or maybe, like me, you even studied privately and braved the scary, scary Alliance Française classes at your local chapter to pass the Delf B2 exam. Ouaaaaaooouh! Even better! And you get to France thinkin’ you’re ready to “parler” the Français and every shop keeper/server speaks back to you in…English. Wah, wah. They don’t have time for your thinking about what you’re going to say in French before you blather it out like an American hick in slo mo. They want to get you your glass of wine, and your ashtray as fast as possible because they too, have to get back to their own glass of wine and “clop” (cigarette) while on the clock. (Even though you don’t smoke, you DO smoke when in France)

Take for instance, my recent lunch rdv (that’s short for rendez-vous everybody. You also have to learn THEIR text-speak!) with my C1 DALF-passing friend, Corinne. (The C1 Dalf is the proof-of-fluency test) Talk about being intimidated to speak le français in HER presence! Sheesh. She, like me, is a perfectionist. But unlike me, she pushed herself to pass that beast of an exam for…the…fun…of…it. Yes, a bonafide sadist. She and I had a LOT to catch up on, but first, WINE!

Our server came to take our drink order and, after ordering in our decidedly perfect French, she responded in…English. We both rolled our eyes behind her back because we knew this drill all too well: you order in French, and they respond passive-aggressively, and sometimes just aggressively, in English. Corinne and I chatted about our roots in and routes to Paris, our backgrounds growing up in the midwest, our past lives in the restaurant industry, and our passions for singing. We had a lot to catch up on and all but forgot about the English assault. When our server returned with our drinks, we gave her our food orders, again, in our decidedly perfect French, and she responded, again, in English. Bam. This response called for an even bigger eye roll from the two of us with a side of, “Why do they do this?? Can’t they see we are giving it our all!! Doesn’t that count for something??!”

This called for a second glass of wine and going deeper into our mama dramas and the fact that we both stayed ten years too long in soul-sucking relationships. Sightly tipsy on our Provence rosé, we basked in the afternoon sun of the Saint-Germain-des-Près neighborhood where, even the air smelled like old money. My heart was full and also sad from not getting together with this gem of a woman earlier on in our Parisian séjour (journey). After two hours of constant giddy girl chatter, here comes the server to ask us, yep you guessed it, in ENGLISH, if we would like our bill. We replied, “ouais, l’addition s’il vous plaît.” (Yes, the check please.) We really showed her didn’t we, retaliating with that verbal, French middle finger!

At this point in our lunch date, we concluded that our obstinate server’s forced-English was comical. If it weren’t funny, it would be borderline offensive with a sprinkle of blatant animosity, not an uncommon reaction from the Parisian service industry. I mean really, what is it with the Parisians who know it’s the time of year when ALL the Americans come to practice their shitty French, and yet, they INSIST on speaking back to them in English??!!!! They say that Parisians leave the city for the summer because of “vacances” (vacation), but I secretly believe it’s so they don’t have to hear us butcher their language.

When our server returned to us with a sweet smile accompanied by the mobile credit card machine, Corinne and I just gave in and paid our bill in lingual surrender. After gathering our things and taking the obligatory selfie to prove that we had an Instagram-worthy interaction, our server approached us shyly and said, “Thanks you both so much for allowing me to practicing my English with you.”

Doh.

Corinne and I just looked at each other and laughed. You never know where someone ELSE is with THEIR language practice. It was an American Beauty moment where all the things you were sure of, weren’t at all what you thought. (Minus a creepy Kevin Spacey wanting to seduce a teenager.) Corinne and I immediately retracted our eye rolls and our sureness and understood the universal life lesson that, we are ALL in the same boat…even if we just stepped off of one.

In Laughter,
LStL

p.s. Just to make it even more annoying, the younger generation has now adopted the word “genre” to mean, “like”. We’re talking Valley Girl “like” people. It is an abomination. It is used constantly. And it is here to stay. Malheureusement (unfortunately).

p.p.s. You will hear, “du coup” (literally translated as “suddenly” or, “then”, or “a blow to”, bur actually used as “and then” or “and so”) all the time, accompanied with a “franchement” (frankly) and an “en fait” (in fact). Sometimes they are grouped all together to mean absolutely nothing. My son, Colton, (below) heard this ACTUAL SENTENCE on the streets of Paris yesterday.

Finally, the moment you’ve all been waiting for…MY RECOMMENDATIONS!!!

OH, and if you like this post, please do ❤️ it as it allows for further visibility on Substack, which allows me to continue doing my thang. xx

---

PATHS TO PRESQUE-FLUENCY…

My friend Corinne came to France with a C1 certification and then married a Frenchman. Even though that’s ONE way to become fluent and immerse yourself in a language, it’s not exactly practical for those of us who are language challenged and also, are already married. Unless, you are willing to get a divorce for it, in which case, you might be facing bigger issues than trying to implement the subjonctive or the imperative correctly with a flawless accent.

Anyway, here are some marriage-saving tips to sharpen your French skills, tried and true by yours truly! I really should have made this post “paid” but, I feel like I am doing a service here, so maybe it will get me into heaven.

MY FAVORITE APPS for Daily French-ing
Duolingo is great for the fast fix when you are riding the train and want to do a lil practice. But I prefer Babbel as a general app. It feels more expansive and I just like their format better. They offer online classes now and private instruction and sometimes they offer a lifetime membership for a one-time cost which, if you are thinking about learning more than one language, can save you a bundle in getting your feet wet in ALL of them!

Reverso: STOP using Google Translate. Reverse is by far the best translator on the market (for now) and my go-to for all things as near to the correct translation as possible. Worth the 5 bucks/month. (There’s also a free version but it’s limited.)

FRENCH CLASSES
I’ve taken almost all of them. Here are my favorites in order of level:

Beginner - Intermediate:
Coucou French. They have online classes for every level with beautifully engaging materials. In-person classes available in NYC and L.A.

High Intermediate - Advanced (for the hard-core sadist):
Alliance Française. They are the gold standard of learning the language and have prep classes for the Delf/Dalf exams for the sadists like me who want to truly torture themselves and get certified. Besides, if you ever want to attain French citizenship, you are going to have to pass the Delf B2 level anyway. They have all levels of classes, but I like Coucou better for the beginner/intermediate levels due to their materials and street-talk.

NOTE: If you are staying in France for an extended period of time, you can take advantage of super-cheap, municipal Adult Education Courses offered by the mairies (town halls) of each arrondissement! Fall semester cut-off for applications is in early September, Spring/Summer semester cutoff for applications is sometime in January. FYI, you will be asked to pick specific classes, a description of “why” you are suited for those classes, and then take a proficiency test in person before you begin.

PRACTICE for FREE!:
Conversation Exchange (from anywhere!): It’s like a basic-ass, Craigslist-esque meetup for people who are looking to just practice conversing with. You pick whether you are looking to converse with a man or woman, provide your approximate speaking level, and much like a dating app, are paired with like-leveled folx. I met a lifelong, French friend through this app and it was a godsend for saving money!

Favorite Substacks for Francophiles:

Karen Bussen’s La Flâneuse
Apolline Birch’s Sober Girl in Paris
Sacha Cohen’s A Good Vintage I just read her fabulous and funny post on beginning her French immersion journey in Dijon this week! Check out SINK OR SWIM.
Morgane Andersson: French En Poésie
Treneer Consulting’s Parisian Chronicles as a great resource for tips and featured articles on expat experiences all over France. I HIGHLY recommend checking out their services if you are looking for expert guidance! You will not be led astray or taken advantage of!

I want to know about YOUR experience(s) with learning a new language with all the trials and tribulations that come along for the ride! JOIN THE CHAT and let’s PARLER!