On Learning French

I recently started with French classes (that language is a necessity here) and the whole experience has been unique and interesting in all perspectives.As a kid, I was ok with studies but never had a competitive edge...that streak to score one more mark from my competitors.I was way too lazy to bother about stuff like that - in a way if I had a topper's rank in the class it was more because my mother stood on my head with a stick in her hand, rather than a result of my own actions. As I grew older I realised, what a fool I had been all through and always wished I could go back and set things right. The French classes seemed to be a wonderful opportunity to redeem all those wrongs - its a full time course with regular classes, a dedicated teacher, surprise tests and exams to move on to the next level - the standards are pretty high....anyone scoring less than 80% will have to repeat the level. Perfect school like atmosphere. When would I get this golden chance again? Probably not in this life.

With those thoughts in my head and an invincible determination I reached the class on Day one. The students came from different nations and it was quite a scene to see all of them together. As luck would have it I shared my table with a Pakistani and a Bangladeshi ladi(es). I had never known people from my neighbouring countries and was kind of pleasantly surprised to see so much in common (its one thing to know the commonality and absolutely another to see it happening). I also realised that the unconscious prejudice I had held about all Pakistanis being dangerous looking(with that militant expression) was so very wrong. Despite the fact that Shazia spoke a mix of Punjabi and Urdu, Shilpi spoke Bangla and I spoke Hindi- we were bound together by unseen lines and became inseparable right from the first moment-we used a combination of languages to communicate with each other. Sometimes when sign language failed we used French. Its a small world... isn't it? Even the teacher joked about our table being the cricketing hub(since I had an Australian as well on the table).

But that was where the familiar ground ended. My hopes about being a top student almost dashed to ground when I realised that most of the students spoke a little French, if not much. And the teacher...well I almost hated him because he did not speak any English (by choice). He would say everything in French and even when I told him to explain it out in English he repeated it no less than 15 times....but all of it in sign language and French. The rule was very clear...no English, no comfort zone. I went home troubled.....which was good, for the next morning I woke up at 4 AM sharp - to study- something I had never accomplished in 19 years of education.

With time, things eased out...French no longer looked a dangerous, unlearn-able language. Rather I was delighted right on the third day when standing on the bus stop after school I read "Beau Soir" written on a board, on the other side of the street, over a departmental store. Those mysterious words turned into "beautiful evening" and indeed it was a fantastic evening...which became more beautiful as my eyes scanned and understood more words. The whole world it seemed had become my learning board and every one my teacher. I would request for stuff in stores in French and say Bonjour instead of hello to the bus driver. People became over helpful when I explained to them that I am learning French (earlier I had this bad experience of being shouted at by an old lady in a store when I had told her that I did not speak French. She had looked at me as if I were some insect whose salvation laid only in French or death)

I also realised that French is in ways more funny than English ever was or will be. One day our usually French speaking professor said a whole question in English and what a question it was "Why do you think they say that the French are obsessed with sex?" We looked at each other...was he going crazy? Or had the Friday fever hit a bit too early? He then went on to explain....It not because they are interested in the act of sex but because they have a gender for every thing. And that's true....as we all soon realised. Crazy as well. There is no logic as to why certain things are masculine or feminine - one must simply know (memorize) Here is a link I found that explains the dilemma http://frenchtoast.sg/french_blog/i_love_french_blog_files/25c912f8f19d557e121e48a185f4572f-5.html

There have been times when things have looked depressing - particularly when we do listening exercises. I can read and understand and maybe speak a bit of French but listening? It drives me nuts. The French it seems have no respect for space that we put between words. They eat away half of the words while speaking and the other half that remain are spoken all mixed up. The teacher says it will come over a period of time (I guess a very long time indeed) since we are in the habit of reading every written word, which is not the case with French. Huh!!

Guess I must get back to my books....before its too late!! I have my exam in 3 weeks!!