First Five Days

Five Tools I Used to Survive the First Five Days...

and how they were all essentially to my detriment



I have had the most wonderful beginning of my stay. People are all very nice and helpful; the area around Mayenne is very rustic and beautiful; I ate four croissants last Thursday. I've had to adjust quite quickly to only speaking French all day everyday, but already I can tell I've improved (last week I was not so optimistic, but today I have a positive outlook).


But anyway, here are the things I've done to get by my rocky adjustment to French language and life.

Smiling and Nodding

I have done a ton of smiling and nodding my first few days here. It’s mostly a combination of 1). People being very nice and friendly, and 2). People telling me vital information that I’ll need for my stay. Thus… smiles. Head nods. The main problem is everything is happening so fast, and I understand very little of what’s being said to me. In trying to seem agreeable this first week I’ve kind of smiled to get by, but at the expense of people thinking I have any clue what they’re talking about.


Example:

The school secretary handed me some papers, told me some things, and thing offered a lengthy description of where my mailbox was (the personal one, for the apartment), how to open it, what mail would go there, what address to use for it… lots of things I’d very much like to know. I smiled the whole time, nodded along, said, “ah, oui, okay,” the whole time. And she smiled and left, having definitively given me all I needed. But truth be told, what I got from that conversation was “mailbox… words, words, words,” and not much else. Perhaps if I had looked a little more confused and less like an enthusiastic lottery winner finding out how to collect her prize, I might know how to get my mail.


Blank Stares


Ah, yes, blank stares. The opposite end of the “pretending to understand what’s being said” spectrum. To me, blank stares are reserved for when you’re so confused you can’t even fake it. It’s when you’re so overwhelmed that your brain cannot even compute a logical response, and goes into shutdown mode, essentially abandoning you in your idiocy.

Example:

At lunch at the teacher’s table, someone asked me what I planned to do that afternoon. I had no clue what she’d said, so I asked her if she could repeat. She did, slowly, and yet I still had no clue what she’d said. I couldn’t ask her to say it a third time – that’s just too much. So I just stared at her awkwardly. Panic engulfed my brain. I looked next to her, to Claudine, an incredibly kind English teacher who has shepherded me through these stressful times, even taking me into her own home. My look was kind of like, “Mom, help.” Like as a kid when you go to the doctor and you know exactly what’s wrong, but still rely on your mom to describe your symptoms to the scary stranger.

Claudine did me a solid, saying “this afternoon.”

I had hoped she would translate then answer the question for me, but of course, no one knew what I was doing that afternoon but me. “La banque,” I finally got out in embarrassment.


Ca Va



It’s one of the most versatile phrases, and I’ve used it to my advantage, essentially to avoid having to elaborate or use any foreign or unnecessary words. I’m not sure if I’m using it right, but, hey, ca va.

As in:

How’s it going? Ca va. Do you have everything you need? Oui, ca va, merci. I can arrange for more pillows if you like. Non, merci, ca va. Let’s plan your first lesson tomorrow! Ok, ca va.



“Je ne parle pas francais”

I’m not proud of this one. Pretending you don’t speak French when you flew thousands of miles just to practice the language is, really, a low move.

Example:

I was with Claudine finding some sheets for the Spanish language assistant to use. The woman who we borrowed them from noticed I had smiled and nodded but not said a thing during the whole encounter, and finally she turned to me and said, “tu ne parles pas bien francais, alors?”


And Claudine’s back was turned, so after thinking about it for a minute, I simply shook my head and said…. Nope.


Claudine turned sharply back and said, “no! She speaks French well! Elle parle francais!!”


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It’s all been a little overwhelming. Although I went abroad before, I mostly traveled with a pack of American kids to big tourist cities where many people speak English. I’ve never been immersed this way, and the first couple of days were very confusing and a little lonely. My first day on my own, I bought a big pack of cookies and hid in the apartment until it was time to go to bed.




Things have been tricky, but also really rewarding too. I’ve been shocked. Despite the fact that what I’m doing is moreso speaking words that resemble ones in French rather than actually speaking French, people understand me. I set up my French phone number. I opened a bank account (and signed a million documents to do so). I hung out in the teacher’s lounge, went to the grocery store, chatted with the bank manager – I say words and people take them to mean something. Magic.


Nicole