Franglais
Or how I've moved around Paris my first two weeks
Thanks to hours upon hours of watching French TV and films, I’ve gotten to the point where I can understand quite a lot of French, including French that is quickly spoken, with dropped syllables, or heavily peppered with slang.
This comes as a surprise to many of the people I meet when they hear my accent. In fact, “Je comprends mieux que je parle” (or “I understand better than I speak”) is one of the phrases I’ve said most often thus far. That said, one of my the most exciting discoveries I have made in my first two weeks is that I speak French better than I gave myself credit for.
Before coming to Paris, I did everything I could to improve my French. In addition to watching films and television, I took classes, did Duolingo and other online practice programs, and went to events with French folks in which I spoke only in French (or tried to). Learning a language in this way has been exciting—and far more successful than my AP French attempts at memorizing conjugation. I’m able to communicate most of what I want to say—perhaps not at the level of profoundness or with the same wit I have in English—and each day I’m getting quicker at finding the words I want to say to string together a sentence. There have even been sometimes when I’m speaking English and the French word pops out instead—”I parle French” is a personal favorite.
Even still, my accent quickly alerts people to my expat status in the country. This is met with one of a few ways:
They respond in French and we have a pleasant exchange.
They respond in English and I doggedly continue responding in French, and we still have a pleasant exchange.
I get sat front and center at a stand up show and the comedian does crowd work with me and immediately clocks my accent and roasts me for it (in a very inclusive way).
Yes, I have reached a new level in my French comprehension and have officially seen a stand-up show in French.
I have to admit, I didn’t expect it to be a stand up show. As part of my learning French preparation, I listened to a lot of music and discovered artists I liked thanks to Spotify mixes. I heard Camille Lellouche on one such mix and really liked her vibe and energy, so when I saw she was doing a show my first weekend in Paris, I decided to go. I did not realize she was more well known as a stand-up comic than a musician. That one’s on me.
When I realized it was going to be a stand-up show (literally walking into the theatre), I had one hope: don’t sit me in front. My wishes were in vain because, as I said, I not only got sat in the front, but also in the center. I think I could have escaped crowd work and gone by unnoticed, but Camille asked who in the audience was single, and I clapped along with the other singletons. I have said many times I will clap if other people are clapping around me. Again, that one’s on me.
So, when she turned to me and asked my name, I said “Mélanie” in the best accent I could muster…to which she responded “Oh, hi, Melanie,” while performing the most Cali-girl hair flip she could. I hadn’t been trying to pass as French, I know I won’t, but I was trying to go as under the radar as possible. She then proceeded to ask me where I’m from (in English), what I do (in English), and how I knew about her (in English). Thanks to the flush of color flooding my face and clouding my thoughts, my answers were a weird mix of English and French. She soon moved onto another victim, this one French, and my cheeks became a normal color again, allowing me to enjoy the rest of the show.
After the show, she was standing outside talking to audience members, so I went up to her and said thank you. She asked me how I thought the show was and if I could understand it (once again, in English), and I responded that I understood most of it (probably about 75%, which I’m pretty proud of). She was so gracious, and really wanted me to have enjoyed myself, which I appreciated so much. Despite my momentary embarrassment, I took the whole thing as a win—I was just another audience member getting roasted by a comedian. Yay for solidarity.
After the stand-up show, I decided to go watch the France-Scotland rugby match at the bar around the corner from my apartment. Apparently, it was the last match of the Tournament of Six Nations, and France had been doing very well. As an avid follower of rugby, I clearly knew this. And by that I mean my Irish friend Sinéad asked me if I was going to go watch the match.
When I got to the bar, it was packed, and I felt immediately intimidated and aware of being there by myself. In fairness, I would have felt immediately intimidated by a bar of mostly male rugby fans in the US as well. So, I did the best thing I thought to do in this situation—stand by the bar and get a pint of beer. Not wanting me to loiter awkwardly at the bar, a waiter found me a place at a long table to sit, joining a group of three men around my age who clearly were not expecting a fourth person to crash their table.
Emboldened by my stand-up comedy experience, I decided that I’d try to start a conversation by asking one of them the rules of rugby. After he graciously explained the rules to me—which I didn’t understand but that was more because of the sports of it all than the French—one of his friends asked me where I was from because I had an “Anglo-Saxon accent” but didn’t know the rules of rugby and therefore could not have possibly been from the UK or Ireland. We then proceeded to have a great conversation, mostly about why I came to France and how I learned French because my French was “a little slow but I made no mistakes”. By the end of the night, I was cheering a long with them (as I said, I clap when other people are clapping), and I was as excited about the French win as everyone else (okay, maybe not as excited).
Since then, I have been becoming more confident in my French with each interaction. I went to a really cool Street Art exhibit where I conversed with an artist in an “I am Kenough” sweatshirt about his collection of painted Game Boys (his work is pictured above). I met with someone from the short film to talk about writing a script together. I had dinner with a friend of a friend in which we talked for 3 hours about movies, music, and drag queens. I saw a friend of mine that I met while she was visiting LA, and we explored the magnificent Dolce and Gabana exhibit at the Grand Palais and talked for hours. I met my neighbor because I needed a code for the cellar so a technician could return and install my internet. I also navigated the interaction with said technician.
Two weeks in, and I am becoming more comfortable saying that “I speak fluent French”—because I do. I may mess up grammar a bit, and I don’t always have the specific word I’d like, but I can spend entire days speaking only in French. I am sure that with even more time, I’ll get even more confident.
As I write this, I am on a train to Lille to attend SeriesMania, a festival dedicated to French and international TV series. I have an accreditation as a writer and translator, so I am excited to attend networking events and practice my French even more. In anticipation for that, however, I will improve my French by translating the announcements explaining that we are stopped for an indeterminate amount of time and thanking us for our patience. Which, really, is one of the most French experiences of all.
À la prochaine!
— Melanie
I love reading about your adventures. I get to feel like the proverbial fly on the wall.
So much fun to read about your adventures! I can do a bit of vicarious living!!