It can be almost too easy to go throughout the days here without speaking very much French. On school days, I wake up, take the metro with Janna to the institute, and a few "pardon"s and "merci"s later, we're at school. Classes are all in English: I have European politics, French politics, history of Christianity, and art history. After class, we usually head home to do our readings. So, all in all, not a whole lot of exposure.
Ai-yi-yi. (or however that's spelled.)
Janna and I talked about how much French we'd practice once we were here, but it can be difficult to carry on an interesting conversation. And there is a HUGE difference between learning a language in the classroom and practicing it with native speakers. At least I know enough to get by in most encounters: it's fairly simple to pay at the register, ask where something is, and greet someone. But I'd like to move beyond that. Once I get my French book back from Russ, I'm all over it. It will be like 201 all over again.
Tonight we ate with Madame Michel and her grandson François-Xavier (8). François-Xavier is fluent in English, a result of having English-speaking nannies and having spent much time in London. At dinner we spoke mostly in English (unfortunately), but I noticed that when François-Xavier got really excited about something, a gush of French would come out directed at his grandmother. He said that he prefers reading in English to French and his little sister (4) received better marks in English at school! Is it bad that I'm jealous of these kids' linguistic abilities? At least this reconfirms my thoughts on teaching a foreign language to children. The monolingual American madness must end somewhere!
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