I quit French and je ne regrette rien

| Posted by Bel | The time is 11.14am here in Wellington NZ |

Remember how, like, a fortnight ago I wrote this rant (and tips) about learning French and then that other blog about how going to France was, like, my greatest passion in life?

Yeah, well. WHATEVS.

Or 'hein...bof', as the French would say, whilst waving their gauloise nonchalantly.

This term was the start of Intermediate 2. Before we started, I caught up with a friend who is a native French speaker so I would be up to scratch. I nervously revised with her the points that I had stumbled over the months before, wanting to make sure I had a clear understanding of what we'd been taught.

She was somewhat bemused. "Oh most French people don't know half this stuff properly," she said, in that naturally condescending way that the French have down pat, "I would never use any of these complex grammatical terms in conversation. All this is very structured. You just wouldn't need it day to day. I'm sure someone would be impressed if you spoke this formally, but... you know... [hein... bof]".

As you know, I have no immediate plans or funds to go travelling. I was struck by a sudden terrifying thought. I was going to spend another term, year, years, studying here in this small town, on this small island, on the edge of this big ocean, becoming the world's most grammatically perfect and learned student of the French language, and one day in the far distant future, finally make it to the fantastical land of France, only to open my mouth and sound like an utter twat.


Okay. Maybe it wouldn't be that bad.

But my French is pretty good now, after two years, which means that the classes are actually getting kinda hard. I'm really enjoying it, but it was actually quite a bit of work to get real value from it, and not having an immediate goal of a holiday or something meant that it was hard to stay motivated. (Not to mention the cost of nearly $300 per term. Sacre bleu!!)

I'm sure that it will be more rewarding once I am in a more focussed position and will pick it up again then. In the meantime, I am stepping up my visits to locally French-run bakeries and viewings of subtitled hottie-starring films, as this now counts as the extent of my cultural immersion and thus très importante.

Here's something to inspire us all:




30 Days of Me: Bel's Day 18

Posted by Bel. The time is 1.09pm here in Wellington NZ

Plans / dreams / goals you have

I want to go to France. That is pretty much what I am all about. I would like to live there. I have a UK passport, so it is actually a valid option, bureaucracy-wise. Unfortunately I am absolutely flat stoney broke and up to my eyeballs with commitments so even a trip is out of the question in the short term / medium term / anything except fantasy land.

But I am quite happy to live in fantasy land and dream of the day me and my family will be cheerily munching on baguettes as we enjoy our high quality health and education system, wearing stripey shirts and no burquas, while a piano-accordion plays in the background, drowning out the sounds of striking transport workers and a burning, overturned car.

30 Days of Me: Bel's Day 9

Posted by Bel. The time is 2.33pm here in Wellington NZ

Something you're proud of in the last few days

AKA Bel's rant (and tips) about learning French language


My French lesson last week was a disaster. I was stressed out and tired by the time I got there, and switching over to another language for a two and half hour class after a full day's work is usually draining enough. Then it turned out we had a different teacher, as our usual prof Luc was away because his baby had been born the day before.

This stand-in had only ever taught once before. The day before. To children. I have no doubts that she was qualified and intelligent and all, but she was yet to find her confidence in the classroom, or to discern what techniques work well.

As a result, she spoke quickly - too quickly - meaning most of her instruction was lost on us. Also, she was brutal about forcing us to speak only en francaise, even when we struggled to find the vocab or syntax to ask her questions because we couldn't understand.

We're used to an immersion environment, but we're also used to being able to say, "Wait, attend. So this means that with être the past participle agrees, but with avoir, non?", or whatever. That didn't fly with this lady. She acted as if it pained her physically to hear English spoken in the room, ignoring the fact that you'd finally cracked through your confusion and summed up the courage to ask the question. (I don't care how long you've been working with a group of people, it's still somewhat embarrassing to be the first person to admit you don't get it.)

The absolute worst of it was when she was getting us to spell out conjugations on the board for her to write up. The alphabet is said differently in French; there's a couple of real tricky ones, like 'j' and 'g' for which the sounds are reversed, and most vowels sound kooky too. I was trying to say 'e' and she just kept writing up 'r'.
Me: "Uhh... mais, non: e."
She writes 'r'.
Me: "E" [Eeeuuhhh]
She writes 'r'.
Me: "E" [EeeeeEEEeeeuuhhh]
She writes 'r'. Or 'h', or something.
Me: "E" [AaAAAaauuhhh]
She writes 'r'.
Me: "E" [EeeuuuUUUUuuuhhh]
She smiles at me like I'm a kid who just used the potty for the first time, and writes 'e'.
So, congrats, lady. You feel awesome and I feel like an idiot. Learning achieved? Zero.



I'd been feeling apprehensive coming into the class, because I knew we were due to tackle the subjunctive, a tense which doesn't even exist in English, but is used in French to express a 'mood' - something uncertain, not a concrete event, such as when you want someone to do something, or you doubt something will happen, or BLAH BLAH BLAH. Goddam French, why must you be so complicated and why do I love you so?

Anyway, you can imagine that this class did nothing to set me straight. I took less than half a page of notes and that included conjugating two irregular verbs. I am a visual learner, with a bit of kinaesthetic thrown in, and therefore learn best by writing things out in my own hand. I need to take notes, for my own reference and also to seal it into my brain.

I bailed at halftime, which I've never done before, not in the whole last two years. [This is not the thing I'm proud of, BTW. That's coming up and it's about as lame as this whole obscure, nerdy post.] She was intending on covering les arts in the second half, and that's vocab I have sussed.

But I didn't give up completely. (Insert here joke about the French and surrendering.) I dealt to some of those other things that were stressing me out, and got in touch with a lovely French friend of mine. My SOS was very kindly responded to and some tutoring over a lunchtime coffee was offered.

However! I was then foiled at the last minute, when mon amie was forced to cancel. This was on the day of my lesson for this week. I really wanted to get my head around things, so went to your friend and mine: The Internet.

The internet has some really crappy websites for language learning, and other brilliant ones. It takes a bit of clicking around to find what suits you, but it can be easy to find an out-right lesson or snippets here and there to work into something suitable.

This is the place where I found a great video and text about the subjunctive: http://www.frenchspanishonline.com/

And if you're wanting to work on numbers - I stop short everytime I have to say a date aloud - then take a look at this: French Numbers Listen and Repeat I right-button clicked and saved their files to put on my ipod.

Another great site is the BBC's Ma France. I didn't keep up with the weekly online activities, but even just dropping in when I remember and doing a few things is good for polishing up things. And I figure as many varied approaches as possible will really strengthen my understanding.

I wound up writing out pages of notes, printing out a nice little verb table as a reference and doing some fun highlightation as well. I filled in and padded out the gaps left from what clues I'd snatched from the mind-boggling week before, and actually even felt confident about the structure. (Not that I could actually yet carry it out on paper without the assistance of my work book, text book and dictionary - let alone speak it aloud!)

It turned out to be excellent prep work, because when Luc went over it in class that night, it turned out what I'd done was more comprehensive that is expected of us for this term. The idea was we'd just get an introduction, whereas we'd been thrown in the deep end - and my busy little catch-up session had meant I'd paddled most of the way out.

It really made me realise how much difference that extra work makes, and how important it is to keep on top of mes devoirs and maybe even invest time in extra work - other than the usual things I count as "homework", such as eating yummy snacks from Le Moulin and watching movies with Romain Duris in.

FIN.

Jean-Luc Godard is not missing, he's IGNORING YOU, FOOLS

Posted by Bel. The time is 2.34pm here in Wellington NZ

The Hollywood Reporter, um, reports that the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences has spent a "frantic" 24 hours searching for iconic French director, Jean-Luc Godard.

They have not yet been able to notify him that he has been awarded an honorary Oscar and I'm sure you all noticed, on account of how the world stopped turning and all.


MISSING! Merde.

They have apparently tried to contact Godard via phone and fax and emails to one and all. He hasn't got back to them!!

I don't know about you, but generally after I send the second unanswered text message to a person about something, I take the hint and assume they ain't in the mood to party. Instead, people are pointing out that the only other person to miss out on picking up their honorary Oscar was Audrey Hepburn... because she WAS DEAD.

Godard's disdain for Hollywood is as integral to his work as jump cuts and pretty women. From 1960's Breathless (probably the best known and most 'accessible' of his films) to Socialisme, which screened at Cannes this year, he has never had much nice to say about the USA.

This belated tip of the hat, coming in his 80th year, may not mean as much to him as it does to the agitated administrators in downtown LA.



Extra for experts: Jean-Paul Belmondo bonaza. Ooh la la!