Thoroughly not French

Sitting on the street in a cafe with a cafe au lait and my laptop, makes me feel thoroughly French, and also so Carrie Bradshaw, or more likely, Bridget Jones goes France.It is a chilling Autumn day but I have found a sunny spot and the warmth from the sun is glorious. Even though I have spoken about doing this a lot (and even tried to do it several times) today is the first day it actually happened. Mostly because I couldn't hack into an unlocked wifi or find a cafe in the sun with free wifi, but today it all came together. And the sun is shining.

As I sit here and write, a woman is standing in front of me, dressed in fur coat and leather knee high boots puffing on her cigarette. She is the archetypal french madame. It is a real pity that I don't smoke. I probably look like the biggest foreigner right now. Even if I feel French in my sunny cafe, I probably couldn't get more foreigner-expat-trying-to-live-in France if I tried.

To make it worse, I went this morning to meet with a woman who runs painting classes because I want to start an art course. I emailed her earlier in the week, and realised then that her English is fairly limited. She had actually written to me in English but clearly had put her French email into Babel Fish or another translating program because it came out with weird words and she had actually left in the alternatives and synonyms spat out by i-translate. Still, I figured I would meet with her, look at the workshop in action, and work out if I could still take classes with her, even though we don't speak the same language.

Well, lets just say, it was a great example of lost in translation. She did not understand me and I did not understand her (aside from about every fourth word she said). The really awful thing though was that the women (mostly middle aged non-working french women) in the class thought it was funny, and proceeded to giggle at my attempts to understand the teacher. As I walked out, thanking her and apologising (this I can do well in French), I felt like a complete idiot, and at that moment just wished that I could speak and understand French properly. It is so bloody hard living in a country without language, it is completely alienating. Oh well, at least I can sit in a French cafe and sip on my French coffee and write my blog about France - in perfect english.

Merci,

Mel