The week is almost over dear friends, and this valley doll is getting anxious for the weekend. I have nearly finished my first full week of gainful employment in Pleasant Valley, and must say I feel pretty great, but am still itching for my weekend. All in all the work situation has been very positive - I know, good news doesn't sell, but what can I say? - and the only stress I carry is from my ongoing efforts to become a fully bilingual member of the Pleasant Valley public service. I was enrolled in French Immersion from the tender age of 4, but after years of living the unilingual life of an Anglophone in the Southern Ontario monoculture ("what do you mean there are two solitudes?"), it's back to basics for me.
Let's see, what do I remember of my years of studious French training? "Bye bye mon cowboy"; "Voulez vous couchez avec..." Okay, it's really not that bad, but my head's developing stretch marks as it tries to accommodate both an Anglo and Franco neurotic train of thought. And believe me, learning French isn't all baguettes, red wine and aged cheese. It's a lot of bloody hard work, and involves a near cult-like subscription to all things Radio-Canada (the French version of CBC for those who've never crossed the great divide), re-reading my old school books, once again accepting the Becherelle as an indispensable belonging (don't leave la maison without it), and rehearsing little conversational scenarios in my head whilst trying to cobble together sentences that don't sound like they're being uttered by an underachieving grade-school French drop-out. Oy vey.
I'm told the watershed of becoming truly bilingual is when you start to dream in French. I guess I'd better start practicing...
"Voulez-vous coucher avec moi çe soir?."
1 comment:
You're far braver than I. These days, when someone asks me if I speak French... despite three years of Quebecois camps and 13 some-odd years in French Immersion... I calmly, firmly reply 'nope'.
C'est domage!
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