Photo of author’s son in Paris, France.
In my other life, as I like to call it, I was the translator. I often found myself sitting at a kitchen table with school documents sprawled out between me and an anxious mother. As a family therapist with seven years of Spanish classes behind me, these were the moments that most overwhelmed me. A mother sitting across the table, watching my mouth for familiar words, nodding her head with approval, or murmuring, “No entiendo” when confused. Slowly translating each document using basic Spanish vocabulary and many hand gestures, together we unraveled the mysteries of new school enrollment, calming her fears and reservations about sending her child to yet another new school.
In the fall of 2011, I said good-bye to that life and hello, or rather, “bonjour” to a new one. My husband, two-year-old son, and I had accepted an expatriate assignment to Paris, France for two to five years. Once our things were packed and shipped and our house rented, we checked into a hotel and patiently waited for our visas to be approved, a wait we were told could be as much as two weeks.
So we waited. Halloween came, then Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Year’s, each day with no French visa approval. What was supposed to be a short wait turned into 100 days of a life on hold. During that time, my husband loaded up our Rosetta Stone each night, immersing himself into learning French. I, on the other hand relished my new role as stay-at-home mom, opting for trips to the park, swimming in the hotel pool, and blogging rather than studying French. One lazy afternoon in January, the phone rang and my husband declared, “They’re here.” Our visas had arrived and it was time to go, leaving me no time to learn French. When I arrived, my French included saying hello, goodbye, and “Where is the bathroom?”
In early February, we arrived in Paris and lived in a hotel for eight weeks before finding an apartment. There was so much fear and anxiety inside of me, with my husband at work and my son and I alone in a new city. Everything was different and nothing at all like I had imagined or had prepared myself for. Trips to the grocery store left me crippled with anxiety that someone might “realize” that I couldn’t speak French. I purposely tried to “dress French” to blend in, and tried to do everything “right” so that no one would have to speak to me. If they did, I stared at them in confusion, mumbling, “I’m sorry, I don’t speak French.” During those early months, I cried a lot in secret behind sunglasses in the park watching my son trying to navigate French children and playgrounds.
Once we were finally unpacked and settled in our new apartment, French lessons began. During nap time, a sweet French woman came to our home to teach me the language. I completed my homework assignments and stumbled over my pronunciation. I read more about French culture and why things were the way they were. And somewhere during that time, I found my voice again. Until the mail came today, along with a packet from my son’s school…which are all in French.
Although I have a whopping three months of language classes behind me, I still cannot speak or read French fluently. I’ve been translating these school documents while dealing with the harsh realization that my little boy, my comrade in the perils and joys of life in Paris, will be leaving his Momma and going to school.
Even after translating the documents and asking questions to French speakers on the Internet, I’m still unsure if his first day is the 4th or the 6th of September! My husband and I giggle nervously over a translation that states we need to bring an elf and a empty box of matches with him on his first day. Really Google Translate, an elf and matches? We know we’ll get the list translated, but it’s just yet another reminder that although now that we try so hard, we still do not effectively grasp the language.
I long for my own family therapist to calm my worries, to explain when I say “Je ne comprends pas.” Our time in Paris is short, and I know that we will return to our other lives before we know it. I look forward to the familiarity of sitting at another kitchen table with a new anxious mother, only this time I will be able to say “Entiendo.”
Have you been in a situation where you have had to learn a new language in a new environment? If so, how did you cope?
This is an original post by Jacki, an American expat living in Paris, France. To read more of Jacki’s posts, please visit her blog HJ Underway.
Photo credit to the author.
Jacki, French is such a difficult language to learn, especially as adults! So I applaud you and your efforts. And 3 months is a short time, really to grasp the language. It takes a lot of practice.
My husband is Libyan and although his parents speak good English, Arabic is usually spoken in their household. They speak Arabic to my sons too, so I’ve had to learn a smattering of words/ phrases! I still can’t converse with someone in Arabic though 🙂
Oh I love this kinda story, Jacki. Can’t even imagine how hard it is to learn French. Big kudos to you for learning that, mama. The only French I know are “I miss you” and “I love you” hahaha.
Google translate is very reliable! Not! LOL!
Your post reminded me of my short stint of staying in China. It was so depressing at first. I just can’t blend in because I don’t look Chinese lol and yeah, I cried a lot from those culture shock period.
The second month was better, I was brave enough to went shopping at the local market armed with translated and copy-pasted list of ingredients and calculator 😀
Je comprends, moi aussi! Wow. I read this and all I could do was smile. I moved to France with 3 years of french language study to realize that je ne parlais pas at all! Trying to navigate every day life, grocery shopping, even worse bread shopping at the boulangerie and looking for an apartment while at the same time learning french labor law, accounting and marketing all in french made my mind go nuts at times! I can’t even imagine what it’s like with kids in tow! We have lived in Thailand and Indonesia with kids but we’ve been lucky to find english speaking schools and activites as well as a huge expat community. Bonne Chance, you will do amazing! Just don’t send any matches to school, I think the elf would make for an excellent companion if not for your son, maybe for you. 😉
I can so relate! I knew that learning Korean was going to be very difficult (it’s listed among Arabic, Chinese, and Japanese by the US State Department as the “super hard” languages to learn) but I had no idea how hard it was going to be. I have not been helped by the fact that the majority of expats I’ve met here, some of whom who have been here for 8 to 10 years, still have not learned to speak Korean and tell me to not even bother. 🙁 I’m told the only way is to marry a Korean. Alas! I’m already partnered.
Google translate is my steady, albeit unreliable, friend.
Does Spanish not help you? When I did study abroad the Spanish speakers in my group saved us many times in France. What’s funny is that when J & I went I couldn’t get him to say anything in Spanish despite his fluency. His parents were in the same boat though when they were kids. All the kids became fluent while they struggled with the basics. It’s so hard to learn another language as an adult. Hang in there!
Je comprends bien aussi, mes amies! 🙂 I only have High School French (and I left school in 1986!!)
I was born in Italy and my family moved to South Africa when I was 8 years old. At that time S.A. had 2 official languages, English and Afrikaans … I couldn’t even tell the difference between the 2 when we first arrived!! I was sent off to school with a pocket dictionary and was expected to pass. I remember crying every single day for a year, but I learnt both languages & passed!
Now I’m battling to teach Italian to my kids because (since my husband and I both grew up here) English is now our home language! Everyone seems to think it would be “easy” for us to “just speak Italian at home” but it really isn’t! So, we pay for our kids to attend Italian Language classes and plan to send them to their relatives in Italy for a bit of “intensive” practice as soon as we get the chance! 🙂
My heart went out to you when I read this post. As I like to tell myself, “one day at a time”! Hang in there!
I love the role reversal here. It is so powerful, Jacki!
I spent a summer living with a family in Japan when I was 17 years old, and I knew very little Japanese. I tried to dive into as many books on Japanese language while I was there, but it wasn’t enough. I know how you feel!! But, this time you are just not trying to get yourself by, but your little guy, too. Keep at it. It will all come to you, Jacki!! You can do it!!
And welcome to World Moms Blog!
Jen 🙂
I love the post Jacki! Fantastic!!!!
The lutin (as I’m sure you’ve figured out) is also called a “porte-vue” and it’s one of those plastic folders with plastic sleeves that you can slip papers into.
You poor thing, I didn’t realize what a hard time you had of it – history repeating itself with your mom, too, back in the day. By the time I met you, you were so suave I never would have known! 🙂
Oh, that is SO hard. And I think France is a particularly intimidating country to learn a language in. Here in Kenya people are charmed by my efforts, in France, the simply seemed annoyed. But you have at least 2 years! And with a good teacher, your experience with closely-related Spanish and frequent excursions, you’re sure to master it! Just picture yourself in a years time confidently asking questions at the grocery store! The first months are the hardest, but in time you’ll get there. Lots of hugs to you!!
I have heard that the first six months is the hardest as our brains adapt to the shock of a new language. I can’t imagine how difficult those every day interactions must be for you. Hang in there!