Nov 14
I promise this will be my last post about fall…at least this fall. But I just can’t resist the colors of these crisp fall days in France. This desert-dry-climate-Colorado girl has never met a deciduous tree she doesn’t love.
Even the cars have changed colors this autumn!
Nov 11
There are so many things I love about learning French. One of my favorite is the chance to collect the funny stories or ridiculous things foreigners say as we plod along in our language classes. It can get particularly silly in French.
Donc, over the past three weeks, I have been compiling a list of faux amis, or false friends, that my classmates and I have incorrectly used in our attempt to communicate with our prof. These are the words that look the same (or nearly the same) in French and English, which foreigners desperately throw into their conversations in hopes of being understood.
Although there are thousands of words that are true cognates or vrai amis in French, I’ve found that sometimes it’s better not to simply throw in the English word, and avoid feeling like un imbécile.
For example, it’s best not to ask an owner of a fruit orchard if she puts préservatifs in her jam, as I’m quite sure she hasn’t been adding condoms to her confiture. Better to say: conservateurs or agent de conservation.
When someone asks you to bring your baskets, don’t go looking for some nice wooden ones, better to head to the closet and pick up your tennis shoes/trainers.
If you are a single male at a bar, you might not want to start the conversation by notifying the ladies that you are un bachelier, unless you want to impress upon them that you did indeed pass the bac (the French equivalent of a high school degree.) Try célibataire instead.
Shopping for some lingerie or undergarments, please don’t ask where the bras are, or you could end up in the storage room with the spare mannequin arms. Ask for the soutien-gorge instead.
When you go to vote, don’t expect to get un ballot, unless you want to hang out with the nitwits or nerds. If you want to make sure your vote is counted, see if they will rustle you up a un bulletin de vote.
Don’t ever ask someone if you can pet le chien, unless you want them to call the animal welfare agency to ticket you for thumping, beating, or passing gas on their furry friend. You’ll be better off if you simply ask if you can câliner or caresser the little guy.
When you come down with the inevitable autumn cold, don’t tell your prof that you can’t speak because you avoir la flemme, unless you are trying to tell him, “you really can’t be bothered” or you are “just plain lazy”. Rather explain to him that you have la mucosité in your throat.
If you are so sick that you have to go to the doctor, please don’t tell him that you have un pain in your throat, or he might spend the next 30 minutes rooting around for last night’s baguette. (Instead explain that you are mal à la gorge.)
And finally, when you are eating in a restau or café, it’s better not to ask the waiter for more napkins, unless you really need a couple of sanitary pads. Best to ask for une serviette.
So, what are some of the funny Franglais conversations you’ve had with the French? Please send in your comments, I can always use a few more chuckles in my life.
Vocabulaire
avoir la flemme: can’t be bothered with
baskets: tennis shoes/trainers
bras: arms
câliner: to pet, pat
caresser: to caress, pet
célibataire: (to be) single
confiture: jam
conservateurs, agent de conservation: preservatives
faux amis: false friends
la mucosité: phlegm, mucus
le chien: male dog
mal à la gorge: to have a sore throat
napkins: sanitary pads
pain: bread
pet (péter): to thump, beat, pass gas, fart
préservatifs: condoms
soutien-gorge: bra
un bachelier: someone who has passed the bac (high school degree)
un ballot: a nitwit, nerd
un bulletin de vote: a ballot
un restau: cool way to say restaurant
une serviette: a napkin
vrai amis: real friends
Nov 10
I love the fact that most shops and many restaurants are closed on Sundays in France. Having lived in the land of 24/7 most of my life, I really appreciate being forced to take a break from consumerism one day a week. However, as a temporary Parisienne, I apparently am out of sync with my fellow citizens.
Sunday has been a day of rest in France since the early 1900s, but according to a recent poll, two-thirds of the population is in favor of stores opening on Sundays (providing it is voluntary for employees to work). Still some see this open-Sundays-movement, like the proposed changes to French vacation and working hours, as an attack on the heart and soul of France, and the essence of what makes France, France.
While the government and the legal system have made it clear that they are not ready to budge or cave into the demands of an always-open world, several French businesses are openly bucking the system, most notable the home improvement chain, Bricorama. They are currently appealing the €100,000 per day fine that has been imposed, and many French families have become vocal advocates of this proposed change which they insist helps working parents, giving them more time to run errands on the weekends.
I am entirely in the other camp. As I’ve said, I’ve been there and I’ve done that. I love that our Sundays in Paris are not just a day of rest, but they are also a day to explore the city or to do something with friends…
…which leads me to another thing I love about France: dimanche midi, or Sunday lunch en famille.
Many French families still gather at their mother’s or grandmother’s house on Sunday afternoons for an old-style, four or five-course meal together. In the past, la maman ou la mamie might have done all the cooking, but these days the guests contribute their own culinary specialties. Which is not to say that they are all homemade, au contraire. Take a ride on the metro late Sunday morning, and you’ll be surprised by the number of travelers carting swanky to-go boxes filled with delicate desserts tied up with silky ribbons. Bottles of wine and bags swollen with cheese, charcuterie, pickled garlic and olives, warm, delicious smelling tartes, roasted chicken, and or course, fresh crusty baguettes, accompany the “déjeuner-ers”.
Our family has quite happily and easily adopted this French tradition, in great part because so much is closed on Sundays in France, and we aren’t distracted by commercial demands or tempted to go out and buy things. Instead, we actually have the time to sit down for a meal together and find out what is happening in each other’s lives.
Sunday lunch is a highlight of my week. My fingers are crossed that the French will choose déjeuner over faire du shopping, and realize the value of fermé le dimanche.
Vocabulaire
déjeuner-ers: déjeuner – to (eat) lunch; déjeuner-ers—franglish for people who lunch
dimanche midi: Sunday lunch
en famille: with family
faire du shopping: to go shopping
fermé le dimanche: closed on Sunday
la maman: mom
la mamie: granny
While in London this weekend, I asked around about why the Brits call the French “Frogs”. Most people assume the nickname comes from the Frenchies taste for frog legs. However, it turns out there are a whole bunch of different theories about where this term of endearment or offense (depending on your prospective) originated.
Here are a few of my favorites:
The Fleur-de-Lys: During the Middle Ages the French flew a blue flag with a gold fleur-de-lys on it. The English, unfamiliar with the fleur-de-lys, mistook the flower for a frog, and had a right old laugh about a country that would put a gold frog on their flag, and thus began sarcastically calling their nemesis “frogs”.
Elizabeth I & Her Term of Affection: Apparently England’s Queen Elizabeth I had a strong affinity for frogs and often used the word to refer to her closest friends and lovers. At some point one of her dangerous liaisons was with her top diplomat to France, and their juicy correspondence often began with “My dear frog…” Somehow word got out about this term of endearment, and the French became the frogs.
The Swamp: Before Napoleon and Haussmann came in to clean up Paris and transform it into the city we know today, the city was much less the city of light and much more the city of frogs (quite literally). Paris was swampy and therefore full of many little croakers. The now upscale Marais–which means swamp, was in fact a swamp, back in the day, and a very undesirable place to live. The monied-folk living outside of the city in places like Versailles began referring to those who lived in the swamp, as the “frogs”. Foreign ambassadors took a shine to the term, and voilà, the French became the frogs.
Culinary Observations in WWI: British soldiers observed their French comrades odd affection for eating frog legs while serving side-by-side in the trenches, and felt they had no other choice than to call their allies frogs.
Camouflaged Foes: During the next war, WWII, it is claimed that the French resistance fighters were so brilliant at hiding from the Germans, that the Germans began to grumble that trying to find them was like trying to find a frog in a murky pond.
So there you have it. Which do you prefer? Do you know any other stories that explain the amphibian nickname?
Next up: Why the French call the British “roast beefs”…
Nov 5
madamethomasfrench.wordpress.com
Just freshly back from the Toussaint holiday, it’s clear that one of the 365 things any sane person would love about France is les vacances. The French do vacation right. I don’t think it is an overstatement to say that the French are always on holiday. They truly are.
On the books, France has just one public holiday for which workers are guaranteed a paid day off every year — Labor Day on May 1; mais in reality, most French workers enjoy 11 national jours fériés per year. During the month of May alone there is a holiday nearly every week. In addition to national holidays, France has one of the most generous vacation policy, mandating a minimum of 30 paid days off per year…which you would think would be enough, but the way the school calendar shakes out, it would appear that even with 41 days off per year, most parents must have to either take time off without pay, or pay for a lot of extra daycare. (Take a look at this school calendar. Blue means vacation–and doesn’t include all the of the extra national holidays. Just look at all that blue!)
school holiday calendar for France, zone C (Paris and environs)
At Button’s French bilingual school, she follows a schedule of roughly 6-8 weeks on, with 2 weeks off, with a handful of other holidays scattered throughout.
Meanwhile, the average US worker receives a scant 16 paid vacation days and holidays combined. In fact according to the Center for Economic and Policy Research, “the US is the only advanced economy in the world that doesn’t require employers to offer paid vacation time.” C’est fou! Contrast these two scenarios and you can understand why les vacances ranks high on my list of things I love about France.
I don’t think the French will ever budge when it comes to their right to holiday–to them vacation is sacred. France nearly shuts down in the summer as the entire population takes the entire month of July or August (or sometimes both) off. What’s even better, as far as I can tell, is that the French jamais, jamais, jamais, take their work on the road. Vacation is vacation. There is no place for work while on holiday. Indeed the French have co-opted a verb (rentrer) and turned it into a noun with a BIG “r” : la Rentrée, to describe the en mass homecoming when families return from vacation at the end of August and kids head back to school.
Alors, as long as I am lucky enough to live in France, I will continue to be faithful to the saying “à Rome, fais comme les Romains.” Vive les vacances!!
alexandracollege.eu
Vocabulaire
à Rome, fais comme les Romains: In Rome, do as the Romans
C’est fou! That’s crazy!
jamais, jamais, jamais: never, never, never
jours fériés: holidays
la Rentrée: THE homecoming (after the summer hols)
les vacances: vacation
mais: but
rentrer: to return (home)
Toussaint: All Saints (Day/Holiday period)
Vive les vacances! Long live vacation!!
Nov 5
As I soldiered on with my intensive French course today, le prof decided to liven things up by presenting us with a list of insults / reprimands en Français. He taught us some good ones and they are so yummy, I just had to share them with you!
…in keeping with the food theme of last week’s French idioms, all of these insolent phrases continue to pay homage to France’s love of, and connection to, food.
Amusez-vous!
Say for example, you are angry with someone, and you want to be more descriptive than simply calling him/her an idiot, you could say instead:
Espèce d’andouille! (You) piece of sausage!
Une vraie courge! (What) an utter squash!
Quelle nouille! What a noodle!
Quelle poire! What a pear!
If you want to tell someone to go where the sun don’t shine, you could say:
Va te faire cuire un œuf! Go cook yourself an egg! (Go to hell!)
Want to tell someone to mind his own beeswax? Try this gem:
Occupe-toi de tes oignons!! Mind your own onions!
If you think your colleague is one twist short of a slinky, you might tell your boss:
Elle travaille de la cafetièr. She’s working from her coffee pot!
OR
Elle pédale dans la choucroute!. She pedals in the sauerkraut!
If you want to criticize a person’s looks you can handily compare them to some common food. For example, you could tell a woman:
Vous avez deux oeufs sur le plat. You have two fried eggs on the plate. (You’re flat-chested.)
Think someone’s ears are too big? Try:
Vous avez des oreilles en chou-fleur. You have ears made of cauliflowers.
Have a friend who has become a bit pudgy around the middle? How about comparing him to a breakfast bun?
Il a de la brioche. He has some brioche. (a potbelly)
Do you have a friend who is much taller than the average? You could always call him:
Une grande asperge. A big asparagus.
Oh, I love this tricky and vivid language! Please let me know if you have come across any other charming food-related insults (and if I have made any mistakes).
Vocabulaire
Amusez-vous! Enjoy! / Have fun!
en Français: in French
le prof: the teacher (short for le professeur-informal)
Steve Martin, Good Cop, Bad Cop, The Pink Panther, 2006
“Bizu: And now he’s pushing up the daisies.
Inspector Jacques Clouseau: He is not ‘pushing up the daisies,’ he is DEAD!
Bizu: (glares) It’s an idiom!
Inspector Jacques Clouseau: You, sir, are the idiom.”
Steve Martin and William Abadie, The Pink Panther, 2006
I’ve just started an intensive French course, so don’t be surprised if November’s post are a bit heavy on new vocabulary and sayings. Today our class spent the afternoon learning about French idioms, particularly those with references to food. Et bien sûr, le French adore eating and cooking so it only makes sense that their language is flavored with the stuff meals are made of…
…here are some of my favorites:
J’ai la pêche! I feel great! (I have the peach; I’m peachy)
Couper la poire en deux: to meet someone halfway; (to cut the pear in two)
Sucrer les fraises: to be a bit nutty; (to sugar the strawberries)
Se prendre une prune: to take a punch/hit, or get a speeding ticket; (to take a plum—perhaps the purple skin resembles a bruise?)
Tomber dans les pommes: to faint/pass out; (to fall in the apples)
Avoir la banana: to have a big smile; (to have the banana)
Etre la bonne poire: to be easily tricked/duped, to be too trusting (to be a good pear- ripe for the picking)
Avoir un coeur d’artichaud: to be tender-hearted, to fall easily in love; (to have the heart of an artichoke)
Appuyer sur le champignon: to drive very fast, speed, accelerate; (to press on the mushroom)
Raconter des salades: to tell lies or exaggerated stories; (to tell salads)
Ne plus avoir un radis: to have no money, to be broke; (to no longer have any radishes)
Les carottes sont cuites: it’s all over, nothing more can be done; (the carrots are cooked)
Mon petit chou: a term of endearment; (my little cabbage)
365+ Things I Love About France 