Really Dumb Things I Have Said in French

My French teacher explained to us the other day that there is a difference between one’s competence and one’s performance. In other words, you can know the correct grammar and vocabulary, but when you open your mouth, it’s unlikely that you will actually be able to pull it all together and be comprehensible. Of course any of us who have ever studied a foreign language knows this to be the case, but it’s nice to be validated.

One unfortunate consequence of having my “competence” increase is that I have started to realize how bad my performance can be. I have learned enough to catch some of my most stunning errors. Unfortunately, it takes about five minutes for my brain to figure out what my mouth said wrong, so the opportunity to correct myself is usually long gone. Marty usually doesn’t say enough to say anything really stupid, so he is spared this particular form of humiliation.

You have all heard the expression that someone speaks “broken English.” Well I have broken French beyond repair. In fact I have crushed, corrupted, mangled, mutilated, muddled, marred, destroyed, distorted, trampled, jumbled and garbled the French language. What I have done to the French language should be illegal.

I am not completely alone when trying to figure out when I’ve said something really dumb. French people generally give me clear cues that indicate that I should perhaps reconsider a particular sentence. These cues most often come in the form of facial expressions that range from quizzical confusion to utter dismay. The most depressing cue, of course, is a response in English. It is at this point that one cannot help but feel that one’s French is beyond hope.

The other day I requested a particular type of bread at the bakery. (I, of course, had no idea what this bread was, but fortunately Marty and I, like sharks trolling the seas, are happy to eat whatever we can successfully purchase.) The woman behind the counter responded with more sentences than one would expect for such a simple request and gave me no bread. I tried again; the second time I made an effort to enunciate more clearly. She again let loose a stream of French, pointed to the very bread that I wanted but didn’t give me any. I again repeated the name of the bread I wanted, but to no avail. Right when I finally realized that she was telling me she was out of the particular bread that I was asking for, the nice man who was waiting patiently behind me politely asked in perfect English, “Do you speak English?” I was devastated. Having people resort to English is the lowest form of defeat. Buying food is one of the few things I can do in French, and even this small victory was taken from me. How was I to know that the bread I was looking at had a different name? There was a label. I read the name of the label. I should have been right. It’s not fair. Take the label off the shelf if the bread isn’t there. This was entrapment. I call a foul.

A similar problem happened at a different bakery yesterday (clearly bakeries are dangerous places). I read the label and requested the bread by the name on the label. Hey, I’ve been taking French classes for five weeks, I should be able to ask for bread by name without resorting to the point and grunt method of shopping. Well it wasn’t one name on the label, it was two. I basically said the French equivalent of something like, “I would like whole wheat or rye please.” Now why couldn’t they have just written a second label for the second type of bread? Don’t they know there are some of us who have no idea what we are asking for? We are label dependent. One label, one bread and make sure the bread is there if the label is there. Is this too much to ask? I am starting a fairness-in-labeling campaign to make bakeries safe for foreigners. Our motto: Save a foreigner: one product, one label

Learning a foreign language is obviously among the more humbling experiences one can have. I thought I would offer some of my most humiliating moments for your amusement. Here are some of the really dumb things I have said in French:

Will it cry tomorrow? (weather inquiry)

You bought me last Saturday. (To the woman I had bought our vacuum from the week before)

Stranger (in French): Where are you from?
My response: Yes.
Stranger (in English this time): Where are you from?
My response: Some United States

We can only hope that somehow the French language will someday be repaired.