So I was FREAKED about being responsible for the French portion of our European adventure. Sarah's Italian is good (she lived in Florence for a summer) and her German is AMAZING (she can negotiate train ticket rates, make small-talk, it's really good)! So she took care of Germany and Italy. This left me with the Alsace and (insert dramatic music here) PARIS! Where the people are at the height of proper French usage and expect you to be as well.
We started in the French adventure in Alsace. Things did not go swimmingly. I would ask a question, they would appear to understand me just fine, then they would rattle off an answer that I swear to you was-not-french! I figured that this was to be expected as I learned French in West Africa and now here I am in France... HOME of the French. It's not surprising I can't understand these people and I accept that.
What WAS surprising was how NICE everyone was! At Au Couchon, we had a waitress who spoke little-to-no English. Combine this with my little-to-no French and it could have been disastrous. It was not. First, she dug out a dusty French-to-English FOOD DICTIONARY and brought it to our table. When that STILL wasn't enough to bridge the language gap, this nice young woman resorted to pantomiming. Yes. Pantomiming. As in acting out what our dinner was. They don't tip in Europe, but we left her 5 euros. It was not enough. She made me feel not-stupid and at that point in time, I really needed it.
PARIS.
After the language debacle that was Strausbourg, I was seriously considering cutting Paris short. We get to the hostel and I tell the guy I have a reservation. He asks my name, what day it is for, ok here are your keys, breakfast is in that room at this time, leave the key at reception because there is only one, have a nice stay. I blink a couple of times... did he just say that all in French? Did I just understand this Parisian, rattling stuff off to me? Did I just understand him as clear as day? Oh my god, lets not jinx this!
We check into our room and on the way out I ask for a map of the city and where the nearest metro is... once again, he understands me and I understand him. Amazing. Everywhere we go it's the same thing. The bakeries we patron get that I obviously don't speak French, and if I get stuck on a word, they start with the gestures and the pantomiming and "do you want to try it to see if you like it". What the hell? I was prepared for blank stares and bored sighs.
We get back to our hostel and there is now a woman working the counter. I tell her what room number I need the key for. She says she can't understand me and I freeze. Crap. The French Sword of Damocles just came crashing down on my head. She continues that I need to pronounce the number 12 like this: "Doooooze". She was smiling. I copy her. We say it together. I apologize that my French is bad and she responds in what I like to think is a typical French way: Apathetically indifferent. The words that came out of her mouth were "Yes, your French is not so good... but this is not a big deal"... but somehow it came out with EVERY tone mixed into it. She was being nice, she was lamenting the fact that there are so many tourists in Paris and the French population must be versed in English, she wanted me to go away, she was telling me not to worry. The French are a complicated people.
Stuff like this happened the whole time we were in Paris. I would wander up to someone and say I was looking for something; they would then either respond in VERY clear, slow French or just cut to the chase and speak English.
When it was time to leave Paris, we had to make a reservation for our train to Amsterdam. There were 5 windows open, four of which had a British flag above them (meaning the person in that booth spoke French and English). With our luck, we got the ONE booth with no British flag. We mustered up our courage and went forth as we didn't want to hold up the line. It starts out ok: I need to make a reservation; ok I can do that for you; blah, blah, blah. Then it crops up that there is a problem with the train and then she really starts speaking some fast and fancy French! I interrupt her and say that I'm sorry, I only speak a little French. She also apologizes and says that she only speaks a little English, but that we will meet in the middle. She then proceeds to speak perfect, perfect, perfect English. No huffs, no rolling of the eyes. She was extremely nice and helpful. Once again, I am surprised at how accommodating these people are.
Or not. I was relived to discover that French people are so patient. The whole time in France was great! No tears, no frustration, it's been a pleasure! Goodness, I am going to tell the whole wide world how freaking nice the French are! Yeah. We were in line for the Catacombs (pics coming!) when some American dude starts making conversation with Sarah. It turns out he and his wife CAN NOT WAIT to get the hell out of France BECAUSE THE FRENCH ARE BEING SO RUDE TO THEM. I think he's probably overreacting until his wife gets back in line with him. She went to go get coffee. Where did she get coffee and croissants from? IN PARIS? She searched out a McDonalds. It turns out she was so afraid to go into any of the cafe's because of how badly she and her husband have been treated. Wow.
So I guess the moral of this story is: if you want to go to France, you must at least TRY to speak French. Things go much smoother... apparently.
Oh, PS! I could not understand the people in Strausbourg because (according to the German family we are staying with) the people in that region have a very thick accent that is NOT a French accent. To them, it sounds like a German who learned French. This makes sense as it is right by Germany.
Come to think of it, that terribly handsome Alsatian chef at Au Couchon came out to explain to a German couple what was on the menu. Le sigh... if only we had made it evident that Sarah spoke German. I would be married right now. To a handsome, bi-lingual Alsatian chef.
PPS So there was a slight hiccup in Paris. It wasn't anyone's fault. But it started off a horrible chain of events on... that day. More on that later. Everyone is fine! But that day... shudder.
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