My linguistic romance №4: French language. One year in a relationship.

A couple of months ago, I came up with the beginning of my post about French: “While the whole world was fighting the coronavirus, I was fighting French grammar”. Today, finally writing this post I have to change the beginning a little bit: “The world is still struggling with coronavirus, and I - I’m still struggling with French grammar”. Phonetics, syntax, vocabulary... In a couple of weeks it’s going to be a year since I systematically have started to study this language. And while it may seems, since I can do B2 level listening exercises and read Harry Potter, that my French way is easy and enjoyable, I assure you: it’s not. Despite many years of experience in studying three foreign languages, French has become a real challenge for me.

I thought it would be like with all previously learned languages: a piece of cake! Listening to simple songs and arguing with Guatemalan workers, I learned Spanish; after working in one and another New York restaurant, I began to speak English. Well, okay German, I really learned it. But back then I had a fresh brain of a child - it hardly counts! But with French no tricks work. I study it in all sorts of different ways, but it never goes into my head. My teacher says a word to me, and I immediately forget it. I make the same mistakes dozens of times. I just can't remember that the ending -er is read like -é, and the letters -t, -d, -s, -p, -ts, -ds, -ps, -ient are not readable (and of course, every time I outrage: so why do you need to write them at all?!).

The first time the alarm bells of my French immunity rang a long time ago. Once my French boyfriend tried to teach me at least some basics of the language of love. All attempts ended in failure. For example, many times we tried with a word "a glass" - un verre. He was repeating it over and over again, and I was forgetting it in just a couple of hours. It seems to me that it was that time when we realized: we were not meant to be together (not a glass and me, but that Frenchman and me). However, now I finally memorized this word. And in addition, I learned that there is another "un ver", which means "a worm".

At that moment, I explained to myself my French dullness very lyrically: I was blinded and stunned by the romantic feelings for my charming hero of a glass romance, and my brain was simply not tuned into perceiving and processing the unknown linguistic codes. Now, when my gaze and my brain are not clouded by the lyrical deviations, I have no excuses. I’m facing a harsh reality: I have a really difficult relationship with the French language.

Oddly enough, my beloved, my very first, adored, tested with years of passionate harmonious relationships - Spanish language, adds fuel to this fire. It seems to me that it is jealous of my new romance and does’t want to let go of the neural connections of my brain to dance with a different language! Very often I pronounce the words in a Spanish manner, I choose Spanish prepositions and pronouns. During the first six months instead of writing the French "he" - il, I was writing the Spanish one - el. It helps, of course, that many words have a common Latin origin. But sometimes it is, on the contrary, confusing because the meanings of such words are different! For example: the Spanish "entender" is almost identical to the French "entendre", but they have different meanings: to understand and to hear. And here I am: saying instead of “I don’t understand” - “I don’t hear”. My French teacher says that the most incapable of French are Hispanic students. Apparently, I’m included to them too .

Although, everything is not as bad as you might think. In my post, I express solidarity with everyone who finds it difficult to learn foreign languages. Now I understand you perfectly. But in my story there is also a silver lining in the darkness of my challenging path among thicket of the French language: I already can speak it. Making a lot of mistakes, sometimes with the help of English, Russian and Spanish words, but I do speak. And it has always been like this with me: I did not wait for the “ideal state of knowledge of vocabulary and grammar” to start speaking a language. Neither in Spanish nor in English (with German I have a school story– it’s a bit different). I believe that the perfect moment will never come, and waiting for it you may miss everything: an unforgettable dance, an important conversation, a person, a trip of your dream. I know I will never speak French like the actresses of my favorite French movies, but I don’t want to deprive myself of the charming moments and pleasure of speaking another language. Right now.

And also, learning French has become for me one of the pillars that help me to get through the times of the pandemic. Since I live in a very remote place where I have no friends, for more than a year I have been deprived of almost any type of communication. So French occupies my thoughts and my time; in the monotony of my days it has become something that brings newness to almost every day of mine. Of course, my teacher plays an important role in it. I’m very lucky with him: our online meetings look more like the calls of good friends - we always have something to talk about. And he is very patient with my recurring mistakes.

There’s not much of moral in this post. For many years of my life languages have been a very important part of it and I just wanted to write about the relationship with a new one of them – my foreign language number four. Like Spanish, it’s a little bit special for me. Because it’s much harder to study than the previous ones, because it literally saves me from loneliness and also because, in fact, we have been together for a very long time. Ever since the TV series "Hélène et les Garçons" and "Premiers baisers" the french sitcoms I adored when I was a little girl. About 25 years have passed since that and now I can watch them in their original: this is a special feeling.