Thursday, February 27, 2014

Baby Talk

When I was preparing to come to France, I had a lot of people telling me what would happen when it clicks. "When you finally become fluent," people would tell me, "you will..."
  • understand French music
  • understand French graffiti
  • think in French
  • dream in French
Obviously, I am not yet fluent. And though I'm excited to experience these "you made it!" landmarks, I have to say that I'm not holding my breath. While I look forward to these landmarks, I can't waste my time waiting for them. But I still actively pursue fluency. How?

In the begining, I tried to force fluency. Because the "thinking in French" landmark is my ultimate goal, I used to try to force myself to think in French. In a way it worked, I can think in French if I want to. It's not difficult to think in a foreign language, but it is tiring. Functioning in another language limits your expression, and if you think that limited speech is painful, take a moment and imagine fitting a language filter on your thoughts. Not very comfortable, being unable to even think freely!

Of course, being me, I still try to think in French as much as possible. It's actually a very good language workout, and I personally find it extremely helpful! Because thinking in another language forces one to formulate thoughts naturally (in the foreign language) it forces the mind to not translate, but rather to formulate natural sentances in the new language. But without a habitual vocabulary/automatic-verb-conjugator, thinking in a foreign language is very difficult, no matter how hard you try, one cannot think (or speak) on the same level that one can in one's primary language. This brings us to the topic of the day: baby talk.


As I have just extablished, it is nearly impossible to function on the same level of thought/speech/conversation in another language. It's much too difficult (and tedious) to translate my typical American vocabulary into French. So why try? I have finally come to the realization that, when attempting to become fluent in a foreign language, it is best to speak like a baby.  I have accepted that, right now, I will not speak like the 16 year old high school student that I am. It's simply not practical. I need to speak like a baby. Well, to be fair, right now I'm at about the level of a gramatically challenged elementary schooler, but I don't want to brag!

But what do I mean when I say "one has to speak like a baby"? I don't mean that one has to dumb down one's language (the phrase "Me want of the ice cream" comes to mind...), although dumbing down sentences does come in handy. By 'talk like a baby' I mean that it is better (for you and the people around you) to use simple words that you have down. Rather than formulating your sentences around the big, sophisticated words you know (and causing yourself major greif when you can't complete the sentence because you don't know how to say "furthermore" in French) why not formulate your sentences around the vocabulary that you can navigate? When you think about it, it just makes sense. If you try to use too big of words, you run many risks. You may use or pronounce the fancy words incorrectly, thus negating the entire statement. You may not even be able to finish the statement (given the fact that you have insufficient vocabulary).

Now that I have started "talking like a baby" and using vocabulary that I really understand, I have found that can I formulate cleaner sentences. People understand me much better this way. And to top it all off, I have been learning a lot more. Rather than using words I've found in the dictionary, I just describe what I'm trying to say. Rather than saying "Wait, let me look up the word for bittersweet" I just simply say "I am happy, but sad at the same time. What is the word for that?" People are always eager to help me discover a new word, and in this way I am encouraged to ask even more questions than I regularly would! In addition to this, when I ask for a word by describing it, I have found that it is easier for me to remember the word (by associating it with the learning experience). An added bonus of asking for words (rather than researching them in a dictionary) is that I get the current, correct translation of the word. With the dictionary, you never really know which words are suitable for everyday conversation. Sometimes they are slightly archaic and, as I found out the hard way, some words have changed in meaning. For example, the original word for kiss in French has evolved into a swear word. That was an interesting mistake to explain in class... Luckily, now that I'm using words that I can handle (and asking for help when I need it) conversations are much smoother for me, and the number of embarassing mistakes I make is dwindling!

Sunday, February 23, 2014

I Am Fez

I have recently made the biggest discovery in the history of parallel universes: I am Fez.

What's that? You don't know who Fez is? Do you mean to say that you don't read every piece of literature with the sole intention of unveiling obscure TV references? Maybe - and this is a big maybe - you are asking "What?" because you have never experienced the pure genious that is That 70's Show. If this is true, then I envy you. As does most great art, That 70's Show ruins one's life by being inherently superior than real life (although it does greatly enhance one's life with the exact same characteristic). Set in the radical 1970's, this TV show highlights the fabulous lives of teenage hippies living in Sheboygan, Wisconsin. Legendary, I know. One of the main characters (and arguably the most influential TV personality of all time) is Fez, an exchange student from... Well we don't really know where.


Of course,  Fez is not his real name. Because of his absurdly long birth name,  Fez's friends refer to him by the acronym for Foreign Exchange Student, which (though technically spelled as F.E.S.) is pronounced Fez. Despite being the most awkward character on the show, Fez is (obviously) an international sex symbol. Well, that's one thing we have in common.

 *Sarcasm*
Fez's friends are, to put it lightly, strange. They aren't in with the academic-gunner crowd, and they aren't part of the Mean Girls Plastics. They're not quite hipster, and not quite hippy. But they're nice, and they accept Fez for who he is, despite of (and perhaps because of) his imperfections. One thing I've always wondered is what kinds of friends Fez had in his home country. He always struck me as an academic-gunner who just happened to fall in with a different crowd in the US. Or, who knows, perhaps in his homeland he chilled with his fellow gangsters. We'll never know. But in the US we do know who his hommies are:


Now, besides serving as internationally recognized sex symbols, Fez and I share another thing in common: interesting friends. Though my group of friends here in France may not be rag-tag (or by any stretch 'hippy'), they are definitely a different crowd than my friends in the US. Back in the States, I roll with the academic crowd. Sure, our grades may fluxuate a little, but for the most part school is our main focus. However, here in France my friends are a bit different. Though my friends here are academics, this is not their ruling focus in life. Much like the gang from That 70's Show, my friends here in France have a variety of interests aside from school (travel, music) that take up the majority of their time.

If I'm honest with myself I'm fairly certain that, were I not living in France (and communicating in French) I would not be friends with this crowd. I naturally gravitate towards the overachieving, academic-gunners. It's just my way! But when living in another language, it's hard to be friends with the academic-gunners. I know. I've tried. For the first two weeks of school (what I have earlier referred to as my 'mute-puppy-dog days') I trailed along behind the overachievers in my class. But while they were accepting and tolerant of me, this relationship simply couldn't work out. While my brain functions the same way as theirs - grades, grades, grades! - I simply couldn't keep up. It doesn't matter that I got the best score on the latest math test (That's right, I'm a protegy!) or that I can write an English short story in under 20 minutes. The fact is that day-to-day conversations between Fezs and academic-gunners are impractical. Just the way that we academic-gunners talk is enough to strain the friendship. Long words, complicated sentences, artsy language - these are hard to master in a foreign language. This isn't even considering the speed with which academic-gunners talk (we're a fast-talking bunch I tell you!), or the subjects upon which we converse. While I may be able to pick up on everyday slang quickly, it's futile to engage me in a French, in-depth discussion of University selections - despite my interest.

Luckily for me, I gravitate not only towards the academic-gunner crowd, but also towards the quirky crowd. I buddy up with the one French girl in Doc Martens. I befriend the Finnish Harry Potter fan. I automatically attatch myself at the hip to the girl in bejewelled motor-gloves. I am drawn to the Frenchy Alt-J supporter. I admire the unbridled spirit. I join the girl writing French Sherlock fan-fiction, in play format. (True story. I speak of: Margo, Alisa, Morgane, Pauline, Chloé, and Clémence.) As far as I can tell, my cast of That 70's Show may not be quite as rag-tag as the real thing, but I think that personality-wise, my buds may give Donna, Jackie, Kelso, Eric, and Hyde a run for thieir money. So, to all my fellow Fezs out there who are asking, just as Fez once did:
  
Every day I am here with my heart on my sleeve, hoping only for friendship and acceptance. And what do I get? Abandonment. Loneliness. When is it Fez's turn?


Just remember: all you need to do is find your gang!
(Well, maybe you could do without Donna. I never really liked her anyway.)