Skip to main content

Soirée

I went to a soirée last night with 9 people in total, all Parisians except me. The purpose of the event was the birthday of Pascal, brother of the hostess, Christine. I look forward to and dread these events. I love the fact that I will be surrounded by people speaking French, but there is always the issue of how do I contribute to the conversation. I have had very little chance to do that because the conversation takes off and leaves me in the dust.

French is a bit different than English. I think that as we converse in English, we form the ideas as we go. This keeps the pace a bit easy. The French seem to formulate the ideas in their heads and feverishly try to regurgitate the ideas as quickly as they can, hardly stopping for breath. The speed makes it very difficult to understand what they are saying, especially women. I am unsure why the difference between the sexes, but it is definitely there.

When I arrived, I saw one person I knew: Genevieve whom I had met when I first came to Paris. We greeted each other in French and she said, "Your French is getting better. The last time we were together you didn't say anything at all." which was not exactly true. I did interject some phrases and attempted to have some interaction. You have to understand that when 2 or more Parisiennes get together, speed takes over. They always have the courteous idea that they will speak slower or speak in English (which I do not want), but expediency takes over. Trying to get the gist of the conversation is like trying to read an advertisement as a high-speed train goes by. You may get a word or a picture, but any of the subtleties will be lost.

When I arrive for a French-speaking evening, I am usually alert and ready to jump in. Greetings go well, with the reaction, "Oh, you speak French well" is the norm. I think this is because I can pronounce things well. Expectations are that I can function and converse well. So much for expectations, because very soon the train gets going. I do OK at the very beginning. I get about every third word or phrase and at the beginning, this is OK.

"Yesterday a photo. . . at the Bastille. . . skateboarding. . ."

So far, so good. What will happen, though, is I will drift slightly. "Skateboard?" I think. "I haven't seen any skateboards in Paris yet. Maybe I should look closer when I am at the Bastille. Maybe Thursday afternoon..." and I realise I have drifted. Now the conversation has taken a turn and I have no idea where they are.

"Very rapid. . . my girlfriend. . . weekday. . . traffic. . ."

Hmmm. Should I ask?

"Very small. . . work going. . . workshop. . . shopping."

No idea. Maybe if I wait, they will make a turn I can follow.

The strangest turn was one person turned to me, knowing I am an American and says, "Aylvees est mort?" "Excuse me? I am sorry, I don't understand." "You know Aylvees?" "Sorry, I am not sure" "Praislee" "..." "Aylvees Praislee!" "... OH, Elvis Presley??? Oh, yes, of course he is dead by now." He then goes back to the other conversation.

I am eternally hopeful that I will get more. I think I am getting more each time, but it doesn't come together yet. I am eternally hopeful. Bit by bit. Petit à petit.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

La Politesse

The way women are treated has changed dramatically in my lifetime. I was born in 1956 and my memories date from about 1962. At that time, the standard gender roles were in place and women were the homemakers. It was unusual in my hometown for a woman to have a job outside the home. Of course, then came the 60s and 70s and the US female population demanded changes that have changed how we view and treat women. In NYC, I have found that women are, for the most part, treated similarly to men. Some of the niceties of the past era are gone or at least greatly diminished. You can hold a door open for a woman or pull out a chair, but you may get a strange look or told that she can do it for herself. I spoke to Helmut about how women are treated in Paris and he tells me that women here universally will appreciate the niceties and are, to some women, expected when going out socially or romantically. He tells me that while women have advanced and are paid similarly to men (maybe 10% less), the...
Post a Comment
Read more

Chronomically challenged

Parisians are ALWAYS late. I think New Yorkers run the gamut, but Parisians are late. They always have a good reason: traffic, the weather, kept at work, the Métro, the dog, the kids, garbage truck. But late. I am in a period of adjusting to this. My tendency is to be on-time. I call it the German in me. Helmut, who was born in Germany, is Parisian now and so I am alone in this bit of frustration. For the most part, people are 15 to 30 minutes late but for some it can be a bit extreme. For instance, meeting my friend Laure means scheduling a 1/2 hour (at least) for this arrival time. I want to emphasize, this is my issue, not Paris'. BUT There are extreme cases. One time Helmut and I were supposed to meet someone for dinner at (let's say) 8 (16h). She called and was going to be late. About an hour and a half after our original meeting time, we left for dinner. She knew where we would be, so she could meet us. At this point I had my doubts if she was going to come at all....
3 comments
Read more

Shaving the Yak*

As I mentioned in an earlier post, I am planning to make chocolate chip cookies for Christmas here in Paris. Very American, chocolatey, how can I go wrong? "And," I think, "I have always made everything from scratch, so I will have no problems getting my ingredients." I even think I have put in some safeguards and bought some items in NYC, just to be sure. Baking soda? Check. Baking powder? check. The oven is celsius, but armed with a browser and Google, I'm good to go, right?Here are the ingredients: flour (all purpose), baking soda, salt, unsalted butter, granulated sugar, brown sugar, corn syrup, egg yolk milk vanilla extract, chocolate chips. My first inkling that things may not be as easy was the chocolate chips. I was planning on buying them, but Helmut told me the chips can easily be found in Paris ("of course they are.") and he was right. BUT... they are tiny. If I used these, they would melt, and would turn the cookie into a chocolate cook...
Post a Comment
Read more