Funny, this explains alot...

This was just the perfect post to me, for so many reasons.

First, I'm in Rouen. Second, I've encountered pretty much everything in the post--the maddening French keyboard, the dog piles (easy to avoid as you have to watch your step on cobblestones anyway) and the rest. Well, I haven't asked any girls out. Or guys. I did unintentionally ask a bank manager if he had any "kept men" in the bank-but that's not the same at all!

Anyway, back to the post...it's great, so I've reposted here (with some line breaks) so it won't be eaten by the Internet when I'm not looking. The rest of Bruceleereally posts are also an interesting read for his observations. I've considered trying CouchSurfing, heard about hitchhiking in France, and had already read enough about Morrocco to make it low on my "visit" list.

Si Si monsieur! Sunday, January 31, 2010 in Rouen, France by Bruceleereally

I really love France. I love everything about the country and its people. I even love the minor annoyance of the layout of the keys on their keyboard. Rather than the English qwerty keyboard, le clavier francais seems like a Best Buy technician was drinking while reassembling a keyboard.

But back to the French. I love how they love simple but good food. I love their French accents in English, always leaving the letter h silent. Home becomes 'ome. Tres jolie. I even love how they leave a heap of their dog's shit in the middle of the trottoir (sidewalk). It makes walking around a city more fun. I love how they have found little ways to make their language more efficient.

I would really like to learn to use the French word "si". I don't mean "if". You see, there is no English equivalent to this term. Let me explain it's beautiful usage.

Bruce: (addressing a pretty French girl) Tu ne veux pas prendre un cafe avec moi?

Girl: Si.

Entirely fictional dialogue. But a good illustration of the use of "si". Let me translate it to English to explain.

Bruce: (addressing a pretty French girl) You don't want to have a coffee with me?

Girl: Yes.

In English, the girl's response is confusing. Is she saying yes to my statement of not wanting to have coffee with me? OR is she saying she does want to have a coffee with me?

The French have overcome this barrier of communication by the use of "si", which is the affirmative of a negative statement. By responding "si", she says that she wants to have coffee.

I love asking negative questions in French only to hear this very French answer. It's a simple pleasure. The lack of the equivalent to "si" might also explain my luck (or lack thereof) with English girls. But alas, that is an entry for another day.

DELF or Parlez-vous français?

The DELF (Diplôme d'études en langue française) is a series of 4 independent certifications (A1, A2, B1, B2) designed for non-native speakers to demonstrate their level of knowledge in the French language. There's also an advanced set of certifications beyond the B2 level called the DALF (Diplôme approfondi de langue française).
Each exam consists of suprisingly well designed sections on reading, writing, listening and speaking. I'll paraphrase what each level (A1, A2, B1, B2) means so you get an idea of what is being measured:

• A1: One step above an Englishman. Able to recognize the language is French and fill in a simple questionnaire.
• A2: Ability to order a carafe of house wine and dinner in a menu without pictures. Also able to unintentionally offend your French acquaintances who have invited you to a party.
• B1: Able to write a beautiful apology letter to your French acquaintances for offending them when they invited you to their party and you drank too much wine, which led to mistaking the dog for the lady of the house. Oops.
• B2: Able to successfully start a bar fight by expressing an eloquent opinion about the World Cup. Able to the explain the situation to the police prior to discharge from the hospital.
  

While I'm sure both France's International Centre of Pedagogical Studies (CIEP) and the Common European Framework of Reference for Languages: Learning, Teaching, Assessment (CEFR) would glare disapprovingly at my DELF level descriptions...they do give you something of the "flavor" each level encompasses.

For 2 hours, we took the reading/writing part of all 4 DELF exams--A1, A2, B1 and B2--to see where we were. Whew! Talk about brain fry....Even our teacher was tired by that point.

We were thrilled to find we were both pretty solidly in the A2 level for reading/writing and beginning B1. The goal is to get to B1 by the time we leave school. While we didn't do any of the speaking/listening sections, it's clear that's where we're both weakest.

So, more listening and speaking for us in the near future! And reading...And writing....

Because it speaks to me...

"...Man has no harbor, time has no shore;
It flows, and we pass! ..."

from the poem Le Lac by French poet Lamartine:
...L’homme n’a point de port, le temps n’a point de rive ;
Il coule, et nous passons !...

"But meanwhile it flees: time flees irretrievably, while we wander around, prisoners of our love of detail."

from the poem Georgics written by Roman poet Virgil:
Sed fugit interea fugit irreparabile tempus, singula dum capti circumvectamur amore

"I don't believe people are looking for the meaning of life as much as they are looking for the experience of being alive." Joseph Campbell

Rouen: Je ne suis pas l'Homme de la Batte

I've been practicing my mouth calisthenics aka "speaking French". While the odd bit of rusty Spanish still ambushes my fledgling French pronunciation, I'm definately improving. That is, until...Rouen. You see, before Rouen or "wahh(n)", I was blissfully unaware of the hazards of the letter R in French. Naturellement, c'est francais!

Unlike either the English or Spanish versions, the tricky "r" beast requires learning throat yoga. It entails finding my "K" spot and a mantra to the Egyptian sun god ("ra-ra-ra"). Other suggestions for conquering "r" include gently rolling the "r" as it's hacked out like a loogie, growling like a tiger, or just randomly making it sound like a "w". Hence, "wahh(n)" with the n highly nasalized. Sounds good to me! But I'll keep paper and pens handy to write words out just in case.

Speaking of words, I couldn't resist the "r" section in Dave Barry's "Parlez-vous Français?" piece. I found it while trying to figure out how to say "Rouen". Needless to say, it didn't help. But thinking about it will certainly make my language mantras sound extra amused!

"...Sometimes we Americans try to blend in to the café scene, but the French immediately spot us as impostors, because we cannot pronounce the Secret French Code letter, which is ``r.'' They have learned to say ``r'' in a certain secret way that sounds as though they are trying to dislodge a live eel from their esophagus. It is virtually impossible for a non-French person to make this sound; this is how the Parisian café waiters figure out that you are an American, even if you are attempting to pass as French:

WAITER: Bonjour. Je suspect que vous etes American. (``Good day. I suspect that you are American.'')

YOU: Mais je ne portes pas les Nikes! (``But I am not wearing the sneakers!)

WAITER: Au quais, monsieur pantalons intelligents, prononcez le mot ``Rouen.'' (``OK, Mr. Smarty Pants, pronounce the word `Rouen.' '')

YOU: Woon. (``Woon.'')

WAITER: Si vous etes Francais, je suis l'Homme de la Batte. (``If you are French, I am Batman.'')"