the substitute . . .

They say it takes years to become truly fluent in French . . . perhaps as long as 10 (although people keep telling me it only takes 8 - a somewhat arbitrary number if you ask me). Perhaps I was a bit naïve to think I might come close in three months. Needless to say I have made tremendous strides in the past month. The first two weeks of school I was in over my head. I had only been in class for two hours when a nice woman from my class pulled me aside on the break and suggested that perhaps I would be more comfortable in the beginner class instead of intermediate.

I suppose she was being kind and wanting to prevent me from further embarrassment, but her "suggestion" made me feel bad all the same. Alors (A common segue meaning "so" which I described in an earlier entry - and if you learn French like me you needed reminding. But that's it! No more reminding, all entries from here on out may contain the word, "alors" with no further definition). Let me start again - Alors, I pulled aside my teacher, Stephanie, and asked her to confirm the opinion of my classmate. She said just to stick it out (of course not in those words, but in French - but after two hours of lessons under my belt, I decided to translate it as "just stick it out".) Looking back, Stephanie may have actually said, "go directly to beginner class, do not pass go" or some alternate witty French directive as Stephanie often gives.

Regardless I stayed in Stephanie's class and decided to wait patiently for the "a-ha" that everyone else had seemed to experience. Stephanie is my favorite teacher at L'Atelier 9. But in all honesty the entire L'Atelier 9 staff is fabulous. The brains behind the operation is Ignacio. A very business savvy man that could probably wheel and deal with the best of them. He has been extremely generous - assisting me with a flat, finding a doctor, not to mention how to make a pot of coffee. Then there is Eric, the other half of the operation, but whom I think of as more of the creative side. He has a Marlon Brando feel . . . so cool, and never without a cigarette. Never not being an exaggeration in the slightest. He teaches the beginner class, a man of few words outside of the classroom, but I bet if I understood French he would be funnier than hell. Sandra teaches the Advanced class, and I am afraid that since I will probably not reach that level, I perhaps will not get to know Sandra well.

But let us return to Stephanie. In addition to being a fabulous chanteuse, she has a theatrical background. This is a great advantage to us - as when we are dumbfounded by the meaning of a word, like vache or rougir . . . she will act them out for us. (Vache is cow and rougir is to blush - so you can only imagine the entertainment of watching charades a la Stephanie.) She is patient (almost always) and speaks the perfect pace for comprehension. From her I have learned all sorts of grammar terms that I mush have slept through in high school such as - imperfect, infinitive, passive, etc. Many of the students here teach English to earn money on the side, but as I struggle to differentiate futur proche from futur simple, I will probably need to seek out other ways to secure wine money.

One day, I was sitting in class - and it happened! (Keep reading, you need a little more background before I tell you what "it" is.) Stephanie and I were in a music mood and she accommodated by turning our daily lesson into a music lesson. We listened to all sorts of French music that day. My first introduction to French tunes (other than the alarm clock set to Radio France since I cannot find my crush, Bret Saunders on KBCO) was to Claude Francois singing "Comme d'Habitude" to the tune of "My Way" by Frank Sinatra. (By the way, Claude was the original before Frank.) Then onto some more tunes by Etienne Daho - I think he is the Madonna of France. (Ok - that was probably a bad comparison - but I can't think of a popular male singer in the States that has survived over time except for Michael Jackson and there are not too many similarities there. Besides I am not sure how much longer Michael Jackson's musical legacy will survive anyway.)

We spent a full day listening to music, intensely trying to interpret the lyrics. Listening to foreign music is a multi-step process.

1. Hit play, stop and rewind. (About 27 times until you recognize most of the words.)
2. Write down the words. (As you hear them. There are too many lyrics in a song to try and hold them all in your head.)
3. Begin translation. (When you find that you have written - "Ce bleu enfin bleu que je trouver dans tes oeuf" which means, "This blue finally blue that I to find in your egg" - you realize you are off a bit.)
4. Ask Stephanie. (Since you already listened to it 27 times my sense is that one more time probably would not help. The line really was "Ce bleu infiniment bleu que je trouvais dans tes yeux." which means, "It's blue everlasting blue that I find in your eyes." So much more sense!)
5. Finally - listen to it one more time. (And sing along! Because if you don't know it by now, then perhaps, learning French is not for you.)

By the way that was a line from the song, Le Grand Sommeil by Etienne Daho. Stephanie does an excellent cover of the song on her album as well. If I figure out how to add a sound byte I will add it to the blog. Needless to say this was my favorite class and I immediately went out and bought some French CDs. (L.R. - I meant to tell you that De Palmas is a super popular singer here! Way to hear about them first!)

That's when "it" happened. It was in this class where my first "a-ha" occurred. Perhaps being immersed in tunes was helpful for me. I am now less shy and talking much more. I even had a fellow student comment on how much confidence I had gained in the last week. Progress!! But then, Stephanie announced that she was going on vacation and we would have a substitute for a week! How could she do this to me - right after my first "a-ha"? She could not leave me! But she did anyway - went off to Greece in fact.

Next Monday morning in walked "the substitute". Ooh la la. Michael! He is quite the looker (in a very European way) and the charmer too. He speaks at twice the speed of Stephanie - actually probably nearer to the speed of sound. I am pretty sure I hear a sonic boom as he finishes each sentence - but that could be my head exploding too. He must be secretly laughing because I think he received nine blank stares from the students on his first day. I do not think one of us had a clue to what he was saying, but it did not really matter, I just ogled anyway and was under the spell of his French charm. I tried speaking some English to him on pose (which is what we call our breaks) thinking I could use some of my American flirtation skills, but he just gave me a blank stare explaining his English was not too good. Hmm that did not bode well for my clever comments and charming come-ons - guess we will just have to rely on the international language of love.

The wonderful part of this story is that I did not lose the "a-ha" I had with Stephanie. In fact, Michael has challenged me in a new way. Oral comprehension. I asked him to speak more slowly once, he crinkled his face and said "Pourquoi? You must get used to the speed of the language." And he is absolutely right. After a week in class with him, I am now able to understand many more words on the rues (street), in the magasins (shops) and on the tele (television). I no longer have to stay up for the Clint Eastwood movies!

Alas the week with Michael is over and we are on Spring Break. I am so excited to welcome Stephanie back and continue down my path of learning, grammar and all. But now I know it is important to expose myself to different voices, speeds and styles. Oh - and for those of you wondering how the story ends with Michael --- well - if you look at L'Atelier 9's new website you can read his bio which explains all.

An excerpt -

Séducteur et pédagogue, son cours est suivi par une horde de jeunes
filles qui ne veulent plus le quitter !

Loosely translated -

Seducer and educator, his course is
followed by a horde of girls who never want to leave him!

So alas, I refuse to be just another broken heart under the spell of a charming French teacher, so I am now on my way out the door to meet a more eligible French man.

A semaine prochaine!

b.

[Disclaimer: I have dangerously given out this blog address to folks in France who may be a part of these stories. While these stories are truthful, I may have taken some liberties with how the story is woven. And for the teachers and students of L'Atelier 9 - these stories are dedicated to you for making these weeks some of my most memorable in a lifetime - and I truly hope you do not mind me sharing.]

P.S. L'Atelier 9 is undoubtedly the best language school in Paris!

P.P.S. (To Mom & Step-Doug - we played a round of French scrabble last week. The first team was able to make a seven-letter word on the opening hand. We drew 5 vowels and had a difficult time holding our own. But your wise instruction has served me well - we scored 30 points with 1 "s" making two words plural and our second highest score was adding the word "bruit" on a triple word tile while making two additional small words on the adjacent tiles thus maximing the score. I will expect my next match with you to be in French also!)