As you know, I had a bit of difficulty getting a bank to accept my money here in Paris. Never before have I gone into an establishment and had them ask me why I wanted to do business with them. Nevertheless, I eventually did get my account here. Since it is the same bank as I have in NYC, transferring money back and forth is very easy.
So late last week, I got a call from my representative at the bank. This is not going to be obvious to any of you, but I live in fear of phone calls from French people. It is one thing to have a conversation with someone in another language when you are face to face. You can see their faces, sense their changing moods, interpret their hand gestures. All of that helps in communication. On the phone, you have nothing but your vocabulary and ability to hear. Also, there are niceties that are just accepted in the language that, as a foreigner, one just don't know. In English, a phone call may go something like this:
"Hello?"
"Oh, hi, this is Edward."
"Oh, hi, Edward. Nice to hear from you. How are you?"
"Very well, thank you, and you?"
"Just fine, thanks"
And then you get on with your conversation and the reason you called. Well, there is the same thing in French. At least I think there is, but I don't understand it, so when someone French calls, the conversation goes something like this, with me starting:
"Allo?"
"Ah, jumble msrplx gerble memble sever samble fa, Ça va?" This last part I get and the rest is just garbled. so I answer:
"Oui, ça va." To let them know I am doing well.
silence
And here is where I don't know the dance. I have probably missed an important and obvious step of saying, "Ça va?" which asks them how they are, but now we are stuck on the dance floor and I don't know the steps or who is leading or even what the band is playing.
silence
They pick up the thread. "Tu est la?" Are you still there?
"Oui." I answer
silence
OK, I guess I need to pick this up. "Qui est la?" Who is this?
"Oh, c'est la banque." Oh, crap! Its the bank and my representative there, Miriam. What's wrong? What did I do?
"Ah, oui! Il y a un probleme?" Oh, of course, is there a problem?
She goes on to explain that nothing is wrong, but could I come into the bank. How about Saturday? No, I can't but what about Tuesday (because strangely in Paris, banks are open on Saturday but closed on Monday).
So Tuesday morning, with some trepidation I go into the bank branch. Now, this is an international bank and they have help lines in English and many other languages. In fact, I know one teller there who speaks English very well. But, no, I don't have her as a representative; I have Miriam, who doesn't speak English or doesn't want to (I am never sure which it is).
We sit down and I am ready to hear either that they think I may be a terrorist or that I have won a new car, not sure which. In fact, there is nothing wrong. Really. She wanted to just check in with me after 3 months to see how I was doing in Paris, how was Helmut and if there were any issues with the bank. I am of mixed feelings about this. If this had been NYC and a banker asked me to come into the branch to chat, I would have been furious. But here, it was somewhat charming and I used it as a moment to practice my French, which was in this case very good.
I have good and bad days in French. There are some days, like today, when I have all the vocabulary I need and everything flows. There are other days where I feel like the idiot in the back of the class who drools. I will take today and revel in it.
I left the bank feeling good that my French is getting better all the time. I don't even care that they bank made me come into the office just to see how I was doing. Who does that, anyway?
So late last week, I got a call from my representative at the bank. This is not going to be obvious to any of you, but I live in fear of phone calls from French people. It is one thing to have a conversation with someone in another language when you are face to face. You can see their faces, sense their changing moods, interpret their hand gestures. All of that helps in communication. On the phone, you have nothing but your vocabulary and ability to hear. Also, there are niceties that are just accepted in the language that, as a foreigner, one just don't know. In English, a phone call may go something like this:
"Hello?"
"Oh, hi, this is Edward."
"Oh, hi, Edward. Nice to hear from you. How are you?"
"Very well, thank you, and you?"
"Just fine, thanks"
And then you get on with your conversation and the reason you called. Well, there is the same thing in French. At least I think there is, but I don't understand it, so when someone French calls, the conversation goes something like this, with me starting:
"Allo?"
"Ah, jumble msrplx gerble memble sever samble fa, Ça va?" This last part I get and the rest is just garbled. so I answer:
"Oui, ça va." To let them know I am doing well.
silence
And here is where I don't know the dance. I have probably missed an important and obvious step of saying, "Ça va?" which asks them how they are, but now we are stuck on the dance floor and I don't know the steps or who is leading or even what the band is playing.
silence
They pick up the thread. "Tu est la?" Are you still there?
"Oui." I answer
silence
OK, I guess I need to pick this up. "Qui est la?" Who is this?
"Oh, c'est la banque." Oh, crap! Its the bank and my representative there, Miriam. What's wrong? What did I do?
"Ah, oui! Il y a un probleme?" Oh, of course, is there a problem?
She goes on to explain that nothing is wrong, but could I come into the bank. How about Saturday? No, I can't but what about Tuesday (because strangely in Paris, banks are open on Saturday but closed on Monday).
So Tuesday morning, with some trepidation I go into the bank branch. Now, this is an international bank and they have help lines in English and many other languages. In fact, I know one teller there who speaks English very well. But, no, I don't have her as a representative; I have Miriam, who doesn't speak English or doesn't want to (I am never sure which it is).
We sit down and I am ready to hear either that they think I may be a terrorist or that I have won a new car, not sure which. In fact, there is nothing wrong. Really. She wanted to just check in with me after 3 months to see how I was doing in Paris, how was Helmut and if there were any issues with the bank. I am of mixed feelings about this. If this had been NYC and a banker asked me to come into the branch to chat, I would have been furious. But here, it was somewhat charming and I used it as a moment to practice my French, which was in this case very good.
I have good and bad days in French. There are some days, like today, when I have all the vocabulary I need and everything flows. There are other days where I feel like the idiot in the back of the class who drools. I will take today and revel in it.
I left the bank feeling good that my French is getting better all the time. I don't even care that they bank made me come into the office just to see how I was doing. Who does that, anyway?
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