The Language Barrier

A couple days ago, a man asked me what I liked about Grenoble. I responded, "The Alps... The Alps...." and honestly couldn't think of another thing I enjoyed about this city. Today is officially the one month anniversary of my arrival in Grenoble and I think the reason I haven't fallen in love with this city is because the language barrier prevents me from participating in many of my usual activities like theatre. Even helping with the church youth groups, I'm still a bystander because I don't yet have enough words to speak freely.

Even asking simple questions like "What should I bring for the weekend retreat?" are pre-thought, attempted with "What is it that I can bring tomorrow?" not understood, pre-thought again, reattempted, "What is it that I need for the weekend?" to which finally the response is "I don't know. Ask Delphine." Do you see where my frustration comes in?

I'm also learning not to ask stupid questions. When I try to ask a question that I pretty much already know the answer to, if I'm not understood, I'll say, "It's not important." To which kind Frenchmen (women or girls) will say, "Non, non. What is it?" I know they are trying to be helpful, but I really didn't care enough about the question to spend the time and mental energy trying to ask again, knowing that then I'll have to listen to their responses in French which I may or may not understand. Yesterday, I tried to tell sweet Coralie that it was in fact a stupid question and not important, but in my last attempt not to cry in front of this kind teenager, the word "stupido" seemed harsh.

One last rant about speaking French (or attempting): You know how Americans think accents, especially those from other countries, are generally cool and we can sort out what you are trying to say with a slight envy at your exotic accent (think English, Irish, Indian, etc.). Not only are the French obsessed with their preceived necessity (I am completely insulting them at this point, only slightly sorry) of everyone speaking French, it is also crucial that everyone use a perfect accent. More than once, I've had Frenchmen correct a single word, making me repeat it over and over for five minutes while they listen for the perfect vowel sound. As a visual learner and definitely not an auditory learner, I sit there laughing internally because there is no way I will remember this because I can't even hear the difference between how I am saying the word now compared to five minutes ago. Like a monkey, I imitate their facial expressions, gestures and voice tone, but my brain and mouth just don't wrap around the letter sounds...

There's a 24 hour overnight with the church youth groups beginning this afternoon. I'm afraid to bring the English novel I'm reading because every Frenchman and his mother think I should be reading French books and will criticize me if they see it (I wish I were exagerrating). It doesn't matter that the main character is a Russian boy who goes to Paris as a great dancer. Hoping that being in the mountains with fresh air will help restore my spirit. (By the way, I saw a double rainbow over the city yesterday which was cool except that the clouds behind it were a scary, hazy red shade... I wonder how much pollution affects one's sense of well-being).

Not trying to be negative, but I think this post is a pretty good representation of why I'm struggling with the language barrier and with adjusting to Grenoble. At least I have 2 Chinese, 1 Spanish, 1 Canadian, 1 Belgium & 1 German girl friends and Félix and Sylvie, my 2 French friends here... Yes, I have made one male friend in a month. That's pathetic but due to living in an international girls' foyer. C'est la vie. That's life.