I wrote it in June 2008

Sometimes I wake up and forget everyone else speaks French. My dreams are a confused garble of Romanian, French and English. I'm somewhat of an awe-inducing artefact in my French classes. The woman in charge at Assofac, the organisation who runs the programmes, is a heinous bitch with cankles and was adamant that because I spoke no French (surely I spoke some French) I wasn't enthused about learning the language. So she lumped me in a class with 10 other people who already spoke fluent French and were specialising their vocabulary in the direction of environmental science. I learnt little in the three or four lessons I was made to endure except that my teacher's name was Delphine, she had a pustule on her toe and provided me with living proof as to why no one should smoke at 40. So after it finally clicked that she really doesn't speak French, she wasn't lying, I was put in a class slightly more to my level. However once again they don't believe that I speak no French, and I am subject to a mandatory presentation about oneself within 30 seconds of being ushered in the door - initially they thought I was 28 and had two children but after we got that straightened out, everybody reaffirmed their opinion about my lack of French speaking abilities. I'm made to read aloud, write on the board, write sentences and conjugate imperative verbs - I decided that after the three hours of urine-soaked fear that was the first class, it would be a really clever idea to purchase a dictionary. Outside the classroom, the language barrier is easy to navigate - though I've learnt that I need to stop laughing when I sense the opening for it in conversation, as it gives people the illusion that I understand and prompts them to start nattering at me in French and then waiting for my response. I've become slightly expert at interpreting what people are saying to me given the situation I'm in, and change my answers according to pure whim, swapping between 'oui, merci' or 'non, merci' (creative, no?). This is a mixed luck draw - I never know what I'm going to get. Last week it got me my purchase gift wrapped, definitely a positive, whereas when I responded 'non, merci' when the salesman at Galleries Lafayette asked me for my postcode, the reaction was less favourable. Needless to say, it keeps life interesting.