Alliance Française

Moving to France to live isn't the real deal if you're only going to speak pidgin French and hang out with ex-pats only, right?

Right.  That's not me. Us.  We are going to Get Right Into It. Speak French, and all that.  Oui.  I had a fair bit of fun brushing up on the old French earlier this year, but now it's for real, and it feels a bit different. A bit heavier. A bit more serious. 

I mean, we think it's cute when foreign tongues talk about 'sheeps' or refers to a dining table as 'she', but the French?  Non. Pas drôle. The French language, she is beautiful, and deserves our respect.

Righty-ho!  Off to enrole in Alliance Française are we!

Oh, boy.  I'm almost changing my mind about moving to France.....

Okay, I've arrived half way through the course (can't work out if it's Intermediate 2 or Beginners 2 and I'm too ashamed to even acknowledge the latter) and everyone has a five week head start on me, but still. The first bit went well and I managed to show off and prattle on and make people laugh - with me, I'm sure.  Bon.  Then we got to grammar and the homework everyone else had prepared in advance and I got to do on the spot. 

Things started to crumble.  Something about the Infinitif followed by 'de' or 'à' and - horreur -  LE SUBJONCTIF.  Je déteste LE SUBJONCTIF.  I mean WHY?? Why does there have to be this additional torture? Isn't it bad enough that we not only have to learn that a stamp is masculine and a letter is feminine but if we want to suggest to someone they put a stamp on a letter it requires a whole new declension?  WHY? 

I made the mistake of asking our teacher, the elegent and restrained Madame C. WHY?? It's daft, I said.  We've got enough on our plates trying to remember 'this', 'that', 'those' and 'these' have to correspond not only with the plurality of the object but also with the gender, and the applications aren't interchangeable as they are in ever-so-lovely and terribly versatile English, La Langue du Monde Civilisé, à mon avis.

"Hi don no why", she said, "hits a rrrule, a rrrrule, Puwla, 'an you mus lerrrn hit hif huw are gon to liv hin France".  "Yeah, but..", I started. "HITS A RRRRULE, YOU 'AF TO LERRRN HIT", she finished.

Okaaay. I 'af to lerrrrn hit.  Bugger. It's not easy being on the planet half ('alf) a century and then try to re-learn how to do more than order a meal and ask for directions - or ask out boys - in another language.   But you know what, that is all part of the programme and why we embalk upon the rich adventure of life and the challenges thrown us.   Isn't it?