French school is, not surprisingly, an international polyglot. I have had people from Belgium, Ukraine, Spain, Mexico, Guatemala, UK, Poland, Australia, Germany, Japan, Taiwan, Finland and Malaysia in my classes. I have only had one other American in my classes and that was only for two weeks. With the exception of the Anglophones, almost everyone in the school is learning French as their third, fourth or even fifth language. The assumption is that everybody already knows English. To give you a flavor of how multicultural Europe has become (presumably as a result of the European Union), I thought I might introduce to you some of my classmates:
Larissa is a 25 year old Ukranian woman who, in addition to Ukrainian and English, speaks Russian. She is a graduate student in Sweden where she met her French boyfriend, (who may be the only Frenchmen ever to be named “Sven”) and has moved to Toulouse with him where he is finishing up his internship for his degree from their Swedish University. Larissa and Sven speak English together since neither of them knows the other’s native language well enough to communicate effectively in it. They occasionally have disputes about the correct way to say something in English, so I, with my newly assumed role as English expert, serve as the arbitrator.
Jowita is a Polish woman in her 30’s who just spent eight years living in Germany. She recently moved to Toulouse with her English partner. She works as a translator translating documents in Polish, German and Swedish. I believe that she and her partner speak German when they are together since this is a strong language for both of them.
Marco, who is in his 40’s, claims to have no country affiliation because he thinks one’s nationality is irrelevant. (To be sure that his message is clear, he has a tattoo that says something to this effect.) He was born in Finland, has a Swedish passport and has spent the last 10 years living in Costa Rica. He works as a ship mechanic and speaks Spanish, Finnish, Swedish, some Russian and English. Apparently this wasn’t enough, so he decided to spend his six week break from the ship learning French.
Linda, an Englishwoman in her 50’s or 60’s, has a doctorate from Oxford and works with neglected and abused children in England. She and her husband Jeffrey, like many other Brits, have bought a second home in southern France. Apparently houses cost half as much in France as they do in Britain (and of course the weather is considerably more desirable), so there are relatively large British populations in certain areas of southern France.
Miguel is a 20 year old Spaniard from Valencia. He spent three months in various places in the U.S. (including New Hampshire) working on his English. Miguel is very sweet but has trouble getting to class on time. To redeem himself for arriving late to class, he gave us a Flamenco lesson last week. Today I learned that his mother likes expensive bullfights (the cheap ones are apparently less authentic), but Miguel does not like bullfights at all. As you can see, one can learn odd things about people in the course of practicing French.
Sadly, Jowita, Marco, and Linda all left school in the last couple of weeks. Today was Larissa’s last day, so now it is Miguel and me with the newer comers, who no doubt will also be interesting to get to know. The diversity of students can make conversations in class quite interesting (when we can understand each other). We have discussed topics such as women’s suffrage movements, TV shows and legal systems in our various countries.
The composition of classes varies on a weekly basis. When we come in on Monday mornings we never know who will be in our class that week. People come for various durations and change levels at different points during their stay. The minimum stay is usually 2 weeks. I don’t believe anyone is registered for as many weeks as me (36 weeks) – but you know some of us need more time. Actually there is a very significant discount for registering for 36 weeks, and I am paying half of the normal class fee.
Conversations in French with other students are always a bit dubious because we all speak French with accents from our “maternal” language. Consequently, we have trouble understanding each other’s French. Not surprisingly, it is always easier for me to understand French when it is spoken by other Anglophones. I find the accents of the native Spanish speakers to be the most difficult to understand. The week I had a class that included three Guatemalans, a Mexican and a Spaniard was, to say the least, a bit dicey.
Using any language besides French during class time is frowned upon, although on occasions a teacher may, in Marty’s words, “throw us a bone” and give us a word or two in English to facilitate understanding. They will also draw pictures and use other creative means to explain words. This method of complete French immersion was particularly difficult for Marty who entered his Debutante class with no French background. It is obviously of limited use to hear an explanation in French if you can’t understand any French. Marty, needless to say, is not entirely sold on the immersion method.
The use of bilingual dictionaries is also strongly discouraged by some teachers. If we don’t know what something means, we are supposed to ask the teacher who will give us an explanation in French or ask the other students to explain it in French. The dictionary rule is one that I break more frequently than the other students, as I will occasionally sneak a peak in my dictionary during break or when the teacher is distracted with other tasks. Call me a rebel.
Classes are approximately 4 hours per day with a 15 minute break. Class size is limited to no more than 11 students and generally my classes have been smaller. Last weeks’s class had only six students, and my current class has seven.
The school offers cultural activities in the evenings and afternoons. The programs range from tours of the Airbus facility to learning petanque, a local game similar to Bocce. Regular programs include a wine and cheese tasting class, watching French movies (with explanations from one of the teachers), cycling on the Canal du Midi (obviously not one that Marty and I need to participate in), and boat cruises on the Garonne River. There are also occasional concerts, French sing-alongs and evenings out on the town. Tomorrow a Polish student and I will take a French cooking class together at a local cooking school. I’ve enjoyed all of the programs I’ve attended, but I am delaying my participation in many of them until I finish my capstone paper, which is due in November.
One of the best features of school is the opportunity to have a “Tandem partner.” These are local folks who want to learn your language, so you meet with them and speak French half the time and, in my case, English the other half. I actually have two Tandem partners: Estelle, who works as a trainer for a company that coats airplane parts for Airbus and Alain, an actor. So far I mostly just take walks with my tandem partners and talk. They sometimes show me interesting places and answer my questions about France and the French. The Tandem partners are particularly important for me since I am not living with a French family and otherwise don’t have many opportunities for lengthy conversations in French. There is a shortage of English speakers at school to meet the requests for English speaking partners, so I am scheduled to get a third Tandem partner next week.
Learning French feels like a full time job. I usually have homework, and I try to read my French Harry Potter book or the newspaper, listen to the radio and watch some TV every day. (I chose to read Harry Potter in French because I knew I could still follow the story even if I missed some of the French.) Marty and I call TV watching “listening exercises” as it sounds much more virtuous than couch potatoes. My favorite TV show is an after school program for kids called “C’est pas sorcier” (it’s not magic) that explains cool things like how the fountains work at Versailles. I am slowly seeing improvements in my TV-watching ability as I can now understand the preschool cartoons and the home shopping network. Scooby-doo, however, is still beyond my French abilities.
I learned about the wonders of French practice through the home shopping network (HSN) when Marty and I went to the Mediterranean for the weekend to celebrate his birthday, and the TV at the hotel included the HSN. While I would never be caught dead watching HSN in English, HSN in French offers an ideal comprehension exercise. The French is clear, simple, spoken slowly, repeated frequently and includes demonstrations of what they are talking about. Unfortunately, we don’t get this wonder-station at home yet. Perhaps this is just as well that we don’t get it since they had me completely sold on a steam cleaner. My French might improve through the home shopping network, but it is potentially hazardous to the wallet.
