Post No.3: 'What's the Tariff?'


Welcome back to Une bristolienne à Bordeaux. I haven’t written a post in a while and the reason is that not much has changed since I wrote the last one. It might not sound like it but this is a good thing. My life here no longer feels like a holiday to review and share but like day-to-day life. Realising this shows me I have properly settled in. This isn’t to say that I’m bored or that the city has lost its appeal. It simply means that when I leave the house in the morning I’m not surprised to hear people speaking French and when I go into the supermarket I automatically wander towards the French products that I hadn’t even realised I was planning to buy.
The point when you come across a word you don’t know how to say in English or you say something that sounds strange because you’ve actually been translating from your new language (I asked a UK florist on the phone what the ‘tariff’ was twice before realising I meant ‘price’) is the point you realise you’re settling into not just a new place but into its language too. When you move abroad with an already high language level it can be hard to feel as though you’re making much progress. When I moved to Italy with no Italian I noticed massive improvements pretty much everyday because at that level every new word is a little revelation and every time you understand something you overhear it feels like a huge accomplishment and it’s because you’re going from zero to something. Now, however, when you’ve done the basics and you’re looking towards striving for 100 (or somewhere close anyway), improvement is harder to notice. This can be frustrating but you have to remember that you’re probably progressing much more than you realise and the fact that the language around you is so much more natural means that you stop judging and analysing everything you hear (including what comes out of your own mouth).
There are still numerous things every day that I can barely follow, the TV being one (French TV is odd…let me say that at least). My purse is full of clinking 1, 2, 5 and 10 centime coins because I almost never catch the exact price at the till in Carrefour or Auchan and end up handing over a note. Admitting you need something repeating or rephrasing gets easier however … unless you’re at the supermarket till and in that moment nothing will seem more embarrassing than admitting to a complete stranger that you don’t have a perfect grasp of their language’s numbers. Once you’ve been there a while you accept that it’s easier to get by in life by saying what you want to and saying it wrong than by not saying it at all. You also realise that people are not as judgemental as you originally thought they would be. That said, differences in things such as expected degrees of politeness can still prove a little bit of a shock. A couple of weeks ago I coughed whilst at an apéro bilingue (a good way to socialise even if people do only want to squeeze any free English help they can out of you) and a woman near me grimaced, turned away and asked me, in all seriousness, if I could garder mes microbes (‘keep my germs’). I kept my retort – and my supposed germs – to myself and, though now slightly wary of coughing too near strangers, I’m not too fazed by things like that. The French tend to be blunter than the Brits and honestly sometimes it can be a blessing – it’s so much easier to know where you stand.

Anyway, tomorrow is the first day of November and a bank holiday here in France. Almost two months in I can confidently find my way around, recommend places to go to out of towners and sigh along with everyone else in the queue when someone orders a pain au chocolat rather than a chocolatine. Speaking of which... CROISSANTS : 2, CHOCOLATINES: 6,  and - a big hand for the newcomer - TRESSES (literally 'plaits' of twisted pastry and chocolate): 2. 

Comments