Franglais

My command of the english language has really declined. I find myself forgetting how to spell a collection of miscellaneous words like specialty, marvelous, and brazilian. The french have a beautifully descriptive verb (because they have about ten that mean stutter), balbutier, which describes someone who doesn't know a language very well and thus stumbles over his/her words while speaking. I balbutie now in english and french. It's terrible. I have to stop in the middle of english conversations to think of a word I probably learned in kindergarten. A recent message to an american friend here read: "I have a mad rhume which means I'm going to stay in with the kiddies and me coucher". The franglais disease has hit me. If you are an american living in France, you know what I'm talking about and you don't want it. It's the most cliché of ailments and it's a bitch to cure. If there is ever a phrase that's oddly put together or a word that you've never seen...well, you know why.

I have a second set of communication problems with the kids. I teach them (as much as I can before wanting to kill myself) english, but they also learn at school three times a week. This has both helped and hurt my attempts. If you have ever taken a foreign language class and then gone abroad, you learn that 90% of the stuff you learned is never said by native speakers. For example, learning how to say "this is the most delicious '97 Bordeaux I have ever tasted sweetheart" is much more practical than that "at the supermarket I buy apples, steak, and milk" crap. So I try to teach them what real english-speaking kids would say. Stuff like "who farted?", "don't pick your nose", and the lyrics to "I Gotta Feeling". That is the kind of stuff that will serve them well in the future. Right? Eliott got in the car a few days ago and said (in french) "I had English today!". I asked him what he learned and he replied (again in french...what's the point of learning english if you describe what you learned in french??) "oh we learned how to talk about OB'z". Huh? I was lost on this one. They learned how to talk about OB-GYN's? That's a little advanced for a 3rd grader. "OB'z?" I said. "Yea" he replied, "you know, like the things you like to do". LIGHTBULB. "OH! Hobbies!!" I shouted, looking back in the rearview mirror. They learned how to discuss their hobbies. So I asked him to tell me something. "I...like..ze..uh, no, I like tennis". Très bien, non?

In reflecting on stuff I've written about I realized that I haven't clued you in on the magnificent french tradition of strikes, or grèves. In the U.S. we sometimes have "strikes". Groups of people will stand outside their work place with signs and picket or unions will make a fuss about something. But never, ever, has a U.S. strike inconvenienced the general public like those in France. Since I've been here we have had two or three train strikes. The first time was miserable. I had to drive to the station that's farther from my house than the one I usually go to, I had to park a half mile away, and I sat on the ground in the aisle of the train for my forty minute commute. It also, for a reason unknown to me, makes the metros slower. Things are congested and people are grumpy. In general it is a less-than-pleasant day when there is a strike. So Monday and Tuesday there was a strike on two lines that run through Paris. Luckily I didn't need to take either one; that fact, however, didn't prevent me from suffering the consequences. I heard the metro arrive when I was walking down the steps, so like a mad woman I ran, pushing people, and burst through the metro doors. I took a seat, thanking God that I hadn't missed it. Well, the doors weren't closing and we weren't going anywhere. An announcement let us know that because of a mouvement social there were some delays. A social movement?!?! A social movement isn't supposed to prevent me from being so late that I can't grab my now-routine Starbucks before class. I was pissed. That was only a minor inconvenience though from what I hear; sometimes the entire metro goes on strike and there are only one or two trains that run. Alain told me he counted near 100 people in a metro car once....

I hope I don't have school on a day like that.

So that's about it here in Chaumes. A pretty ho-hum week. Tomorrow I'm going to see Moby..should be interesting, and Saturday we're celebrating Eliott's birthday. We're going to faire du bowling (which is pronounced like boo-ling and thus caused me much distress when trying to understand just exactly what we would be doing). I am nulle at bowling, which basically means that I can't score above 30 with bumpers..should provide an interesting story. I only hope my hangover isn't too terrible. I can't imagine bowling with nine 8 year olds for four hours while fighting the urge to puke/die/sleep. Wish me luck.