Who Speaks French?

How much do you know about the French language? Who speaks it and where do they live? If you’re up for a translation challenge, this article provides some interesting insights. Or, if you want to take the easy route, we’ve pulled out the key facts below.

But before you take a peek, can you deviner* how many Francophones there are around the world? If it helps, the total number of English speakers is environ* 1.5 billion…

Drapeau de la francophonie

French is…

• The official language of 30 countries. This represents more than 300 million people, half of whom live in Africa.

• The world's fifth-most spoken language after Mandarin, English, Spanish and Arabic or Hindi.

• The only language spoken on 5 continents (besides English).

• The second most taught language in the world.

Francophones (French speakers)…

• Number around 274 million, globally.

• 212 million are native speakers, while 62 million have learned French as a second language.

• Have a total income representing about 5% of the world economy (while making up only 1.5% to 2% of its population).
  
  *guess | *around

The happy medium

I have found it absolutely fascinating to watch the progress of our students over the years, particularly when it comes to speaking French.

I have seen hundreds follow more or less the same path and it is only now that I am learning a couple of new skills myself that I think I’m able to see clairement.*

Teaching absolute beginners is a real rush because they’re so excited about the language. Everything is new to them and if French is a treasure chest, they’re just dying to crack the lid. There’s nothing quite like the energy of teaching them their very first list of greetings, which at Lingua Franca (and no doubt many schools around the world) takes place in the first 15 minutes of Lesson 1. It’s delightful to see adults play around with the language, testing out the new sounds, finally seeing words in print that, prior to that moment, may have simply been absorbed by osmosis (s’il vous plaît* springs to mind, as well as monsieur*). Watching the spark of recognition as they make the links between the French and the English is particularly gratifying.

This high energy usually lasts until Lesson 4, which is when we learn to conjugate our first verb. These days, I know to warn the tutors that at the end of that lesson, their students will most likely leave the classroom with their shoulders down and frowns on their fronts*. As a tutor, it’s hard not to feel like a bit of a failure at that moment, especially since the previous three weeks have usually been so much fun. I imagine it’s a bit like being a parent in that sometimes you have to deliver hard truths for the good of your child. It must fait vibrer la corde sensible* to see them crestfallen, but you know it’s only temporary and is truly for their long-term benefit. I now view lesson number four as a very important piece of the puzzle. 

Not only do students need to know how to conjugate regular -re verbs if they ever want to speak French well, it’s also important that they know fairly early on in the piece that French is not a cake walk. Learning a language is similar to learning to play an instrument. I’m sure someone could teach me how to pluck out a tune on a guitar in a few hours, just as we could arm a student with a few rote phrases to help them navigate an upcoming trip. Sometimes, that style of learning is absolutely appropriate for the occasion. However, if your goal is to achieve some level of mastery, it makes sense that one has to put the hard yards in. 

Lesson 4 seems to be when the enormity of the scale of the language first hits. The exact same thing has just happened to me with my Sanskrit lessons. The first week I was just dying to try out all the new sounds and mesmerised by difference of the script. As I mentioned last month, though, just a few short lessons later, I felt I was drowning as I came to see just how much work I was going to have to do to even be able to get a simple sentence out of my mouth. I think this is the exact point where many of our students lose their nerve to speak and instead retreat into the theory in an attempt to just get things straight! I know I did for a bit.

A mentor of mine commented recently that she notices I delve into detail when I want to regain control of a situation. As soon as she said it I knew she was right. When the vast scope of Sanskrit hit me for the first time,  my instinctive reaction was: “Right, I just need some time alone to get this information in order”. Actually, that’s not entirely true, my first thought was “What the hell have I done?”, but after I gathered myself, my next instinct was to grab an A3 sheet of paper so I could start mapping out what I’d learned. 

I don’t think this is necessarily a bad thing. Of course, ideally, you’d be able to continue to exercise your vocal skills at the same time as you’re putting all of your theoretical canards* in a row, but this is not always the reality. Like Lingua Franca courses, my Sanskrit lessons give me ample opportunity to work on my speaking skills at the same time as I tackle the theory. When I felt that I really needed to get to grips with the basics, though, that sort of practice went out the fenêtre* for a time and this is not the end of the world. 

In the very next lesson, I was able to recognise most of the character symbols in the alphabet, so that felt like a win. Meanwhile, my nascent Sanskrit accent had gone to custard. It seems I was concentrating so hard on the academic side of things that I’d left no room for any flourish. Again, that is fine. The point is that I was further along the bumpy path than I was a week before that.

I was heartened to be able to recognise that. In the past, I would have given the floor to my inner critic who would have berated me for not getting it all perfect out of the blocks. By the way, if you too have this little voice that sits on your shoulder at lessons or keeps you company when you do your homework, maybe it’s best to tell it to take a seat and just let you get on with it. It’s hard enough as it is without unsolicited criticism coming from the cheap seats.

So if you’ve cracked the lid of the treasure chest and brushed away the top layer of gold coins only to reveal the mass of tarnished trove below, ne te décourage pas. The chest is lined with gold and idling in the juste milieu for a bit is time well spent. Shoring up your connaissances* will never be wasted, as you’ll see when your desire to speak returns (and it will, c’est promis*).

Next month: how a jumbo tennis ball, a rabbit hole and a bit of forward thinking can set you on the path to speaking success.

*clearly | *The treasure chest | *please | *sir | *Hitting rock bottom | *foreheads | *tugs at the heartstrings | *the happy medium | *ducks | *window | *don’t be discouraged | *knowledge | *I promise

D'accord vs ça va

Do you think you know the difference between d’accord and ça va? Es-tu sûr*? While in some circumstances these expressions both mean ‘OK’, that’s not always the case – and they’re not interchangeable. D’accord and ça va have different uses, yet even our most advanced students mix them up from time to time.

Ne t’inquiète pas*, though. After you’ve finished this lesson, tout sera clair*! And in case you get lost, just remember this:

When you want to say ‘OK’

D’accord and ça va both mean OK. However, d’accord is to do with agreement, whereas ça va is about how you are feeling or how someone or something is going. Confused? Consider how both are used in conversation below. 

D’accord

Q: Tu veux venir avec nous?
Do you want to come with us?
R: D’accord!
OK!

Q: D’accord?
OK?
R: Oui, d’accord.
Yes, OK.

In these examples, you are agreeing to an activity, idea or decision. 

Ça va

Q: Ça va? 
How are you? (Literal translation: it goes?)
R: Ça va.
OK/ fine. (Literal translation: it goes.)

Q: Je prends ta voiture, ça va?
I’m taking your car, is that OK? 
R: Oui, ça va.
Yes, it’s OK.  

In these examples, you are being asked if you are OK or if a certain situation is OK. 

Other uses of d’accord

Still with us? While ça va is quite straightforward, there are plusieurs* other uses of d’accord to wrap your tête* around.  

Être d’accord (literally, ‘to be in agreement’) means to agree with someone or something. 

Par example*…

Q: Ils sont d’accord?
Do they agree? 
R: Oui, ils sont d’accord.
Yes, they agree. 

Q: Es-tu d’accord avec elle?
Do you agree with her?
R: Oui, je suis d’accord. 
Yes, I agree.

Q: Qu’est-ce que vous pensez?
What do you think?
R: Je ne suis pas d’accord avec ça. 
I don’t agree with that. 

Être d’accord pour is also used to express agreement or willingness to do something.
Par example…

Q: Vous êtes d’accord pour arroser mes plantes quand je suis en vacances?
Do you agree to water my plants while I’m on holiday?
R: Oui, je suis d’accord pour les arroser.
Yes, I’m willing to water them. 

Je suis d’accord pour travailler samedi. 
I agree to work on Saturday. 

Finally (for now), être d’accord que means ‘to agree that’.

Par example…

Il était d’accord que ce n’était pas une bonne idée. 
He agreed that it wasn’t a good idea. 

TO RECAP

Got it? Here are some common traps to avoid. 

COMMON MISTAKES

*Are you sure? | * Don’t worry | *Everything will be clear! | *several | *head | *For example

The Ultimate Snack?

Récemment*, an American mother in Paris created quite the social media storm by posting a video of her child’s after-school snack to TikTok. The meal in question? A chunk of baguette filled with chocolate and beurre salé.*

While Aussie dietitians would likely choke on their activated almonds, this is apparently a common delicacy among French children for le goûter*. With goûter meaning ‘to taste’, le goûter is the sweet afternoon snack les enfants* enjoy around 4:30pm when the bell rings. 

Served by parents and after-school carers, this non-negotiable snack is designed to tide les petits* over until dinnertime. It might simply consist of yoghurt and fruit. But if you're lucky, you'll score a couple of cookies, pain au chocolat, or Nutella on bread. The TikTok goûter in question is also popular.

One thing that’s a little contentious, however, is the addition of salted butter. “Baguette + chocolate bar + BUTTER. Butter is compulsory for me, not an option! But never salted, beurk*,” says LF’s Josephine. What do you think, les chouchous*? Is salted butter a ‘oui’ or a ‘non’ for you?

*Recently | *salted butter | *afternoon snack | *children | *the little ones | yuk! | *teacher’s pets

AFFFF Playlist

Watching, reading, listening… We all learn in different ways, and many of our students use music to polish up on their French. If that's you, or if you're simply looking for something to listen to en faisant le ménage*, you might be interested in the playlist from this year's Alliance Française French Film Festival. 

Listen here

*while doing the housework

La Petite Histoire

If you've ever done a group lesson here at Lingua Franca, you've probably come into contact with La Petite Histoire*. A tale with the very humblest of beginnings, it winds up becoming a rollicking schlockbuster as you move up the levels and your French improves enough to handle the outrageous (some would say impossible) turns of events of the six young friends.

La Petite Histoire is currently only available to our students, however La Préquelle is for everyone’s enjoyment. Below, another instalment of this new series, Chapter 2 of the Intermediate 3 level.

*The Little Story | *The Prequel

C’était le jour de mon départ à Londres et j’étais à la maison en faisant les valises pour ma fille Anouk et moi.

Anouk est entrée dans ma chambre, en chantant: “On va à Londres pour voir La Reine et je vais devenir princesse!”

J’ai rigolé et j’ai hoché la tête. “Je ne peux pas promettre qu’on va voir la Reine, ma petite, mais tu es déjà une princesse à mes yeux.”

Elle a souri et elle a pris ma main.

“On part bientôt, maman?” elle a demandé, avec de grands yeux.

“Oui, ma chérie. Très bientôt. Tonton Hervé va venir nous chercher pour aller à l’aéroport.”

“Est-ce que Tatie Amina va venir aussi?” Anouk a continué.

“Oui, elle vient avec tes cousins. C’est Tati Amina qui a organisé ce voyage pour aller voir ses amis anglais,” j’ai répondu.

“Ah, bon,” elle a dit. “Maman, pourquoi Céline et Vivienne ne viennent pas avec nous? Ce ne sont pas des princesses comme moi?”

“Mais bien sûr que si! Ce sont des princesses comme toi, mais tes sœurs sont trop petites pour faire un long voyage comme ça. Toi, tu es grande.”

“Oui, j’ai 3 ans, maman. Je suis une grande fille.”

“Oui, je sais, ma grande, mais tes sœurs vont faire un petit voyage avec ton papa et ta mamie, tu te souviens? Mamie vient du Maroc pour aider papa avec tes sœurs. Ils vont tous rester à l’hôtel de Papa pendant que nous sommes à Londres.”

J’ai presque rigolé, mais je me suis arrêtée. C’était le premier voyage à Paris pour la mère de Jean-Louis. Il voulait lui offrir de rester à son hôtel. Jean-Louis vient d’une famille simple. Ses parents n’avaient pas beaucoup d’argent, donc pour mon mari c’était important de montrer à sa maman qu’il gagnait bien sa vie. Ses parents étaient horrifiés quand il a décidé d’émigrer en France, donc il voulait prouver à sa mère qu’il avait pris la bonne décision. Je comprenais ça, bien sûr, mais ma pauvre belle-mère! Certes, elle allait adorer rester dans un hôtel de luxe au centre de Paris avec le service de chambre, mais de partager sa chambre avec deux bébés ce ne sont pas des vacances! Mais ma belle-mère a dit qu’elle était ravie. Si on allait aller voir La Reine en Angleterre, ma belle mère, Fatima, aller voir son roi en venant en France. Pour elle, Jean-Louis était le soleil de sa vie.

“Allez, oust!” j’ai dit à Anouk. “Je dois finir de faire les valises. Va dire au revoir à Papa.”

It was the day of my departure for London and I was at home, packing suitcases for my daughter, Anouk, and me.

Anouk came into my bedroom singing “We’re going to London to see The Queen and I’m going to become a princess!”

I laughed and I shook my head. “I can’t promise we’re going to see The Queen, my darling, but you’re already a princess in my eyes.”

She smiled and she took my hand.

“Are we leaving soon, Mum?” she asked, her eyes wide.

“Yes, my darling. Very soon. Uncle Hervé is going to come and pick us up to go to the airport.”

“Is Aunty Amina coming too?” Anouk continued.

“Yes, she’s coming with your cousins. It’s Tati Amina who organised this trip in order to go and see her English friends,” I responded.

“Oh really?” she said “Mum, why aren’t Céline and Vivienne coming with us? Aren’t they princesses like me?”

“But of course they are! They are princesses like you but your sisters are too little to go on a long trip like that. You, you’re a big girl.”

“Yes, I’m three.”

“Yes, I know, my big girl, but your sisters are going to go on a little trip with your Daddy and your Grandma. Do you remember? Grandma’s coming from Morocco to help Daddy with your sisters. They’re all going to stay at Daddy’s hotel while we’re in London.”

I nearly laughed, but I stopped myself. It was Jean-Louis’ mother’s first trip to Paris. He wanted to offer for her to stay at his hotel. Jean-Louis comes from a modest family. His parents didn’t have a lot of money, so for my husband it was important to show his Mum that he was doing well for himself. His parents were horrified when he decided to emigrate to France, so he wanted to prove to his mother that he made the right decision. I understood that, of course, but my poor mother-in-law! Sure, she was going to love staying in a luxury hotel in the centre of Paris with room service, but to share her room with two babies was no holiday! But my mother-in-law said that she was delighted. If we were going to see the Queen in England, my mother-in-law, Fatima, was going to see her King by coming to France. For her, Jean-Louis was the moon and the stars.

“Come on, scoot!” I said to Anouk. “I have to finish packing the suitcases. Go say goodbye to Daddy.”

Recette: Kir Royal

Planning a dinner party and want to impress tes amis* with un apero* you can prepare in under two minutes? Let us present the incredibly simple, always impressive Kir Royal. Featuring just two ingredients, champagne and traditional French blackberry liqueur Crème de cassis, this fresh and fruity beverage is the perfect accompaniment to une gougère au fromage.  

Santé*!

Merci à Marie Claire pour la recette*.

*your friends | *an aperitif (pre-dinner drink) | *for one | *Cheers! | *Thank you to Marie Claire for the recipe

Sometimes simple is best.

As some of you know, I started learning French il y a très longtemps*. If my calculations are correct, I learned my first words of French in 1983 as a Year 6 student so that makes it a neat forty years ago.

For the first few years, we didn’t seem to advance much beyond basic greetings, colours, saying how old we were and the numbers. It almost seemed as though we started over every year and progressed very little. This didn’t bother us at all as we were just having fun with the language at that point, as well as devouring the pretend pains au chocolats* our Year 9 teacher would bring in which consisted of Furry Friends squished between two bits of Tip Top Bread. Miam*!

It wasn’t until Year 10 that things became a little more serious, and by Year 11 and 12 we were in the thick of it. I can picture (and I reckon Mum could still find) the reams and reams of foolscap A4 paper covered in verb conjugations in my Kilometrico-blue script. I have always loved French so the laboriousness of the task didn’t put me off. I’d just write the verbs out over and over and I ended up knowing them pretty well. Strangely, I cannot visualise an equal stack of pages covered in algebra equations.

So, in recent years when new students ask “How am I ever going to remember these verb conjugations?” my instinct is to tell them to write them out over and over as I did. I often second-guess myself, though, since my technique literally dates from the last century, when applications were something you filled out, not something you télécharge*. If the student is around my age or older, I’ll be honest and say that I don’t know of a better way than learning them rote. However, when younger people ask, I sometimes feel embarrassed I don’t have a more tech-based conseil* to give. Surely, I think to myself, memorisation techniques must have developed in the four decades since I opened my lever-arch file to pull out a fresh sheet?

In an effort to appear more early-adopter than flat-earther, occasionally I’ll recommend the app Quizlet, a great website that allows you to make digital flashcards for free.  Mais*, old-timer that I am, I add the caveat that students should create their own digital pack rather than just accessing someone else’s, as I believe a great deal of retention comes in the act of writing out the conjugations. I’m also a believer that if something costs you a bit of effort, you’re more likely to feel some ownership (voire* pride) and therefore more likely to use it.

Even as I’m offering this advice, though, I really want to just say “Write them out!”. To me, it’s so quick and easy to grab a pen and paper and just hop into it. Easy, that is, until you actually have to do it…

I have recently started studying Sanskrit and as you may know, it uses a special (and quite decorative) script instead of the Roman letters used by French, English and many other languages. 

In Term 1, our focus is to learn the alphabet and its sounds. It’s a twelve-week course. At Lingua Franca, we cover the French alphabet in one lesson, so I could see I had some work ahead of me.

Like the Chouchou* I aspire to be, I read the course materials before my first lesson and felt bien préparée* as I met my teacher and classmates for the first time. About halfway into the hour, though, the challenge in learning a brand new script became very clear. I made a promise to myself to devote Saturday afternoons to it until I had it nailed. I truly thought it’d take one samedi après-midi* and I’d be done, ready to be a total know-it-all by lesson two. Je suis très naïve*, it turns out.

For various reasons, my first whole Saturday afternoon turned out to be a grand total of 40 minutes by the pool. By the end of it I was confident with seven of the 49 characters and could (almost) recognise another six. “Pas de problème*,” I told myself, “the lesson isn’t until Thursday evening. You’ve got plenty of time.”

Needless to say I didn’t perform terribly well in that class, which didn’t bother me particularly, though I did have to laugh when I noticed I was exhibiting the behaviours we see in our own classes here at Lingua Franca from time to time: avoiding eye contact with the tutor and working out which question she was going to ask me and preparing that instead of listening to what was going on in the moment. Some of you know the drill, I suspect.

So while not being the star of the class was not bothering me, I didn’t like seeing what my lack of preparation was doing for my enjoyment of the language. I was so keen to unlock the doors between the characters, the sounds and their meanings, but I couldn’t do it as I hadn’t mastered the alphabet yet. I felt like I was falling behind. A couple of my new classmates were exclaiming how beautiful the language was and I just couldn’t see it. Worse, I knew that I wasn’t putting myself in a position to be able to make an informed decision as to whether I even liked my new hobby or not. 

At the end of the lesson, the tutor set our homework, which seemed a bit overwhelming but I vowed to do it to get myself back on le bon chemin*.

Despite my resolve to do better, I knew I had a busy week coming up. Luckily, I mentioned my dilemma to one of my classes and I noticed one of the student’s eyes light up. Edith stayed behind as everyone else filed out of the room, and then enthusiastically told me how she prepared for her vet science exams. Guess what her conseil was? Rote learning of course. She told me to write the characters out over and over again, in groups first, marking them as I went. Those that I hadn’t mastered she suggested I regroup and go over as many times as necessary to commit them to memory. Then, once I believed I’d mastered them, to throw them back into the mix and go again. Over and over and over until it worked.

I was relieved. Even though she’d done her undergraduate degree some moons ago, it was clear she was a lifelong learner, and had chosen these techniques even when brighter, shinier techniques were available. 

She also suggested tackling the learning first thing in the morning, before my day got underway. “Do it every couple of days in bed with a coffee when the world is still quiet. It doesn’t have to take too long.” I admit, this sounded a lot more appealing than devoting an entire Saturday afternoon to the task.

Again, though, I had to roll my eyes at myself. We regularly tell our students to do a little bit often rather than a big session on the eve of their lesson. Why wasn’t I listening to my own advice?

Easier to take Edith’s advice, it seemed, and I tried this technique in the days that followed. The first morning, I ended up with only 10 minutes to spare but rather than put it off, I decided to at least get my homework in my hands and just have a look at the scope of what I had to do. From the course materials, I isolated my reference points and matched that with the homework sheets. That act alone was enough to get me excited again about the challenge before me and as I write this, I only have three or four characters that remain stubbornly out of my grasp. I can also report that my second lesson was an entirely different experience. Though still difficult, I could at least follow along with the class, making mistakes, getting a few right and thoroughly enjoying myself.

Most importantly, my encounter with this ancient language that is brand new to me delivered a powerful lesson in empathy. I know I’m probably preaching to the converted, but learning a language is not easy. Let’s go easy on ourselves and just chip away at it together. I’m pretty sure it’s the key to unlocking the door between frustration and joy.

*a long time ago | *chocolate croissants | *Yum! | *download | *piece of advice | *but | *indeed | *Teacher’s Pet | *well-prepared | *Saturday afternoon | *I am very naive | *No problem | *the right track

Mecspliquez that again?

If you’re a woman you’ve no doubt rolled tes yeux* as un homme* has condescendingly “explained” the simplest of concepts to you. And guess what? The idea of mansplaining also exists in French – and it goes by the name of mecsplication.

A homonym for m'expliquer*, mecspliquer means to explain something to a woman in a patronising or oversimplified manner. It’s a clever combination of two French words. Mec – meaning guy, dude, man or bro in slang. And expliquer, meaning – you guessed it – to explain.

Want an example of mecsplication in action? Regarde* this famous 2021 tweet by Dr Jessica McCarthy.

Oh, la honte!*

*your eyes | *a man |* explain to me | *Look at | *Oh, the shame!

Fancy a French Series?

Au nid*, we’re lucky to receive some great recommendations for French series and films. Whether you’re into crime, medical or period dramas, here are three of our chouchous’* recent favourites. We hope you’ll find some fresh inspiration if tu cherches quelque chose de nouveau à regarder*.

Les Combattantes (Women at War)

France, 1914. As the German troops advance and men leave for the frontlines, four women must grapple with the devastating consequences of war at home.
Starring: Audrey Fleurot, Julie de Bona, Camille Lou
Watch it on: Netflix

Vise Le Cœur (Aim for the Heart)

From childhood antagonists to first loves to fierce enemies, police captain Julia Scola and criminal lawyer Novak Lisica have a long and complicated history that culminated in 20 years of estrangement. When Novak leaves his firm to join the police, he supervises Julia’s squad as the new commissioner, and the two must confront their past relationship as they take on Paris’s most challenging crimes.
Starring: Claire Keim, Lannick Gautry, Noémie Chicheportiche, Zinedine Soualem, Waly Dia, Nicolas Cazalé
Watch it on: SBS On Demand

Hippocrate (Interns)

In this French medical drama, a group of interns are forced to take responsibility when doctors in charge of the intern department find themselves quarantined at home due to drastic preventative health measures in a public hospital. (Apparently, the super squeamish best give this one a miss.)
Starring: Louise Bourgoin, Alice Belaïdi, Karim Leklou, Zacharie Chasseriaud
Watch it on: SBS on Demand

*At the nest | *teacher’s pets’ | *you’re looking for something new to watch  

L’appel de Dieu

When you think of church, you don’t automatically think of chuckles. Mais apparemment*, this notice can now be found in many French églises*.

Il est possible qu’en entrant dans cette église, vous entendiez l’appel de Dieu. Par contre, il est peu probable qu’il vous contacte par téléphone.

Merci d’éteindre vos téléphones.

Si vous voulez parler à Dieu, entrez, choisissez un endroit calme et parlez-lui. Si vous voulez le voir, envoyez-lui un texto en conduisant.

Ou, en anglais*… It is possible that, on entering this church, you may hear the Call of God. On the other hand, it is not likely that he will contact you by phone. Thank you for turning off your phone. If you would like to talk to God, come in, choose a quiet place and talk to him. If you would like to see him, send him a text while driving.

*But apparently | *churches | *Or, in English

Swoon: Jardins de Marqueyssac

High above the Dordogne river, surrounding an early 19th Century château, Les Jardins de Marqueyssac are among France's listed 'Jardins Remarquable' – and the most visited gardens in South-West France. Top of any amateur topiary artist’s bucket list, these verdant green gardens were designed by a student of André Le Notre – he of Versailles fame.

Faire une promenade* along more than 6 km of paths lined with 150,000 hand-pruned, century-old boxwoods, taking in waterfalls, rock gardens and breathtaking views of the valley.

Check out this website for a mini virtual tour. We think you’ll agree, c’est assez magique*.

*Take a walk | *It’s rather magical

La Petite Histoire

If you've ever done a group lesson here at Lingua Franca, you've probably come into contact with La Petite Histoire*. A tale with the very humblest of beginnings, it winds up becoming a rollicking schlockbuster as you move up the levels and your French improves enough to handle the outrageous (some would say impossible) turns of events of the six young friends.

La Petite Histoire is currently only available to our students, however La Préquelle is for everyone’s enjoyment. Below, another instalment of this new series, Chapter 1 of the Intermediate 3 level.

*The Little Story | *The Prequel

- “Merci, vous deux, pour cette soirée très agréable,” a dit Noëlle alors que nous sortions du restaurant.

- “Merci à toi, Noëlle, oui je suis d’accord, c’était super,” a dit Jean-Louis. “Est-ce qu’on peut te ramener ?”

-“Non, ça va merci, j’ai ma voiture,” a répondu Noëlle.

-“Tu es venue en métro, tu m’as dit. Tu as oublié ? Trop de vin ce soir, Noëlle ?” ai-je taquiné.

-“Ben non, c’est juste que…” Noëlle a arrêté de parler et elle a rougi.

Jean-Louis a commencé a dire quelque chose, mais Noëlle lui a coupé la parole.

-“Non, en fait, j’ai laissé ma voiture près du métro Mabillon quand j’ai su pour la manifestation.”

- “Mais…” ai-je commencé à protester, mais mon mari a dit soudainement :
- “Bon, on y va ? Je dois me lever tôt demain.”

J’étais confuse, mais nous nous sommes dit au revoir et nous sommes partis.

Dans la voiture, j’ai dit :
- “C’est super de sortir le soir de temps en temps, Jean-Louis. J’aime bien passer du temps avec toi, sans les enfants. On peut faire ça plus souvent ?”

-“Oui, je suis d’accord. On peut inviter Noëlle aussi”, a-t-il répondu en regardant la route.

-“Oh…Oui, je suppose”, ai-je dit, un peu déçue.

Jean-Louis m’a regardée, et il a dit :
- “Eh bien, elle est un peu seule, Noëlle, non ? Elle n’a pas de famille ici comme nous. On devrait l’inviter parfois, je pense.”

- “Elle n’est pas aussi seule que ça !” ai-je répondu.

- “Que veux-tu dire ?” a dit Jean-Louis.

- “Ben, elle a déjà un nouvel amoureux.”

- “Leïla, arrête les ragots. C’est ton amie ! Ce n’est pas très gentil.” a répondu Jean-Louis fermement.

J’étais un peu choquée, je dois dire. Mon mari est en train de défendre Noëlle ?

- “Tu la défends, Jean-Louis ?” ai-je dit. “J’ai cru que tu ne l’aimais pas. Tu as changé d’avis ? Est-ce que c’est son charme australien ? Je pense que tu as dit qu’elle n’était pas sincère.”

Alors que nous arrivions dans notre rue, Jean-Louis a coupé le moteur et regardait droit devant lui.

- “Je n’ai jamais dit ça, Leïla. Je suppose que je ne la connaissais pas très bien. Allons, ça suffit ! Je ne veux pas passer la nuit devant notre appartement à parler de ton amie.”

Jean-Louis n’avait pas l’air très heureux.

- “Tu es fatigué, mon amour ?” ai-je demandé.

Parfois Jean-Louis était un peu susceptible.

- “Oui, ça doit être ça. Je suis désolé, chérie. Je t’aime, tu le sais ?” a-t-il dit en sortant de la voiture. Il a pris ma main. “Viens, on va se coucher”.

“Thanks you both for a lovely evening,” said Noëlle as we left the restaurant.“Thanks to you, Noëlle, I agree, it was great,” said JL” Can you we give you a lift?”

“No, that’s fine, thanks, I’ve got my car,” Noelle responded.

“You came by metro, you told me. Have you forgotten? Too much wine tonight, Noelle?” I teased.

“No, no, it’s just that…” Noelle stopped talking and she blushed.

Jean-Louis started to say something but Noelle cut him off.

“No, in fact, I left my car close to the Mabillon metro station when I heard about the demonstration.”

“But - “ I started to protest but my husband suddenly said: “Right, are we going? I have to get up early tomorrow.”

I was confused but we said goodbye and we left.

In the car, I said: “It’s great to go out at night from time to time, Jean-Louis. I like spending time with you without the children.”

“Yes, I agree. We can invite Noelle as well,” he responded, watching the road.

“Oh. Yes I suppose,” I said, a little disappointed.

Jean-Louis looked at me and he said: “Well, she’s a bit lonely, Noëlle, don’t you think? She doesn’t have family here like us. We should invite her sometimes, I think.”

“She’s not that lonely”, I said.

“What do you mean?” said Jean-Louis.

“Well, she’s already got a new love interest.”

“Leïla, stop with the gossiping. She’s your friend. It’s not very nice. responded Jean-Louis firmly.

I was a bit shocked I have to say. My husband was defending Noëlle?

“Are you defending her, Jean-Louis?” I said. “I thought you didn’t like her. Have you changed your mind? It is her Australian charm? I thought you said that she wasn’t very genuine.”

As we arrived in our street, Jean-Louis turned off the motor and looked straight ahead of him.

“I never said that Leila. I suppose that I didn’t know her very well. Come on, that’s enough. I don’t want to spend the night in front of our apartment talking about your friend.”

Jean-Louis didn’t seem very happy.

“Are you tired, my love, I asked? Sometimes Jean-Louis was a bit touchy.

“Yes, it must be that. I’m sorry darling. I love you, you do know that?” he said as we got out of the car. He took my hand.  “Come on, let’s go to bed.”

English words used in French

From ballet to faux-pas, baguette to souvenir, most Aussies unwittingly use numerous words of French origin as they go about their days. How numerous? Well, everyone’s vocabulaire* differs, but suffice it to say that approximately 7, 000 mots français* have made their way into the modern English language. (And many, many more words we use have French or Latin roots.)

But does it go both ways? Well, to a lesser extent, oui*. Today’s French is also littered with Anglicisms – especially among young, hip, pop culture vultures. 

You’re probably familiar with the food-related crossovers (hamburger, sandwich, hot dog), so here are some other loanwords to explore. 

Bonne Maman

We’re willing to bet une baguette* that lurking in your fridge is a jar of confiture* bearing the name and signature vichy rouge* lid of this French foodie brand. Meaning grandmother or granny, Bonne Maman is a family-owned marque* synonymous with delicious home-style preserves, jellies and fruit spreads. All made to traditional recettes* – jam-packed with fruit, and without artificial flavours, colours or conservateurs* (pas préservatifs*, attention!*). 

Founded in 1971 by the Gervoson family, Bonne Maman is based in Biars-sur-Cère, a small village in a beautiful fruit-growing region along the Dordogne in Southwest France. However, the jams’ appeal is much more widespread (pardon the pun), with the range now enjoyed in almost 100 countries across the globe.

In 2021, a rumour also emerged that the company founders sheltered people during the holocaust. While the private family declined to comment, we can’t think of a better reason to pop on la bouilloire* and indulge in something sweet. *Bonne Maman, bien sûr.
To learn more, visit the French website. (We’re sorry to say the madeleines aren’t available on our shores.)

*a baguette | *jam | *red gingham |*brand | *recipes | *preservatives | *not condoms | *be careful | *the kettle | *Bonne Maman, of course

Work out what you love

We all have moments along our French adventure where we toy with throwing it all in.

Obviously, as the owner of a French school it’s not in my interests to encourage people to follow through on this feeling and many times we just have to hang in there by a hair for the motivation (or favourable circumstances) to return. However, I do truly believe that if it’s not your thing, it’s best to let it go in favour of finding an activity that really lights you up. La vie est courte*, after all.

But what if you don’t know what it is you truly love? I consider myself very lucky in that I discovered French at the age of 11. What kills me is that I didn’t consider it as a viable career path until the age of 36, when I found myself crying on my birthday thinking “how did I muck my life up so badly?”. Nothing like a crisis to light a fire under us, that’s for sure.

Not everyone wants to turn their passion into their livelihood of course. Many people actually prefer to contain their loisirs* to their private time. But what if you’ve never truly discovered an interest qui te passionne*?

It might be time to consider these questions.

Were you more outdoorsy or did you prefer quiet time indoors? Did you read a lot? Or were you always hanging out with a gang of kids being rowdy? Did you used to love playing with Lego? Were you a dreamer? Were you dying to get into the kitchen to make something? What were you fascinated by?

Something people compliment you on, that you don’t even think of as a skill because you find it so easy? They say: ‘Gee, you’re good at that!’ and you think: ‘Can’t everyone do this?’

You know the type of thing: you start it thinking you’ll just do a little bit and a while later, you look at your watch expecting only 30 minutes to have passed, but in fact you’ve been at it for over two hours without realising.

Say you had to go to a party and you really were not in the mood.  Trying to hide, you go into the kitchen to get a glass of water and strike up a conversation with someone. You make polite chit chat, then hit on a subject you’re both passionate about. You end up spending the rest of the party in the kitchen, totally engrossed in this conversation. It’s like you can’t get the words out fast enough and you leave thinking: ‘What a great party!” What would be the subject you’d most likely be talking about?

This is not necessarily the answer, but it may give you an insight into what you truly enjoyed before societal expectations were placed on you.

Spend a few minutes daydreaming about this. Remember, in this scenario, you’re so set up you don’t have to give any thought to what makes money, what’s socially acceptable, what’s a transferable skill. This is purely about what would make you feel good. Then ask yourself why.

I didn’t have this list when I had my mid-thirties crise*, though I wish I did. Had I had access to this list, my answers would have looked a lot like this:

1. People from other cultures and travel
2. Languages
3. French
4. Languages and travel
5. A teacher (mostly for access to that stationery cupboard)
6. Learn more languages, travel.

So as you can see, I’m a pretty one-dimensional person. I do have other interests, but nothing really puts a fire in my belly like people, languages and travel. I could bore you for hours on the subject of just how much my life has changed for the better since I stopped caring what people thought and just decided to do what I loved. 

If you haven’t yet found ton truc, I sincerely hope you start the search. The great news is, it’s a search you can do from wherever you find yourself. Just take some time to gently ponder the questions ci-dessus*. And when you do find ta came*, chase it down like a person possessed. You'll never look back.

Of course, if you already know that French is your jam, félicitations*! You're in the right place.

 

*Life is short |* past-times | *that you’re passionate about | *crisis | *your thing | above | your jam | congratulations

Sneak Peek into le Nid | Favourite Flowers

We’re big fans of a beautiful bloom here at le nid*, and with Valentine’s Day upon us, what better time to talk about les fleurs*. From the traditional to the more difficile à trouver*, these are our pick of the bunch. Please feel free to put in an order with la fleuriste*.

*the nest | *flowers | *hard to find | *the florist

Paris Plage

City of light, oui*. A gourmand’s go-to and shopper's paradise, bien sûr*. But did you know Paris also transforms into a buzzing seaside resort in summer as locals and tourists eat les glaces* and lounge in deck chairs on sandy beaches (or grassy stretches) along the Seine?

Run by the office of the Mayor of Paris, Paris Plage* first took place in 2002. The egalitarian initiative aimed to provide all city-dwellers access to a 'beachside’ vacation in summer. Including those without the means to join the annual exodus to the coast.

Initially setting up sand at just one location on the Rive Droite*, Paris Plages has grown in scale (hence it’s now plages, not plage). Taking place at three main locations – the Parc Rives de Seine, La Villette canal basin and the Trocadero gardens – it’s become a highlight of the summer calendar. 

Each year, millions of visitors beat the heat under palm trees and beach umbrellas as they enjoy free music and entertainment, join in games and quench their soif*. 

Which all sounds very lovely, but can you take a dip? While the Seine’s been off-limits for decades, the government promises it will be clean enough to swim in by 2025. (On verra*…)
For now, you can practise your laps in the pools at the Bassin de La Villette. Located in northeast Paris at the top of the Canal St Martin, this artificial lake is the place for boating and water sports enthusiasts. 

Or, if you prefer the lure of dry land, there’s always beach volleyball at the Hôtel de Ville*.

Paris Plages 2023 runs from 9 July to 22 August. Better pack la crème solaire*. 

*yes | *of course | *ice creams |*Paris Beach | *Right Bank | *thirst | *we’ll see | *City Hall |*the sunscreen

Interesting French word : Crapoter

If you ever felt the peer pressure de fumer* in your youth, you may have crapoté* your first Marlboro Red. The French equivalent of the charming Aussie expression ‘bum puffing’, crapoter is a verb meaning to smoke a cigarette without inhaling. 

While that might sound like the best thing to do if forced to light up, it’s considered cringe-worthy among French teens. Toutefois*, that might be changing.
While smoking is still much more prevalent in France than en Australie*, the health message appears to be working. In 2021, 30% of French ados* had ever tried smoking, versus 52% in 2010. (In Australia, 97% of those aged 15-17 had never tried smoking, according to the National Health Survey.)

So now you know the word for fake smoking, how about fake singing? Can you remember it from December’s Chouchou News? If not, check it out here.

*to smoke | *smoked without inhaling |*However | *in Australia | *adolescents

Recette: Gougères au fromage

Not doing Dry January? Might we suggest these cheesy little clouds of goodness as the perfect accompaniment to un apéro*? Crispy on the outside and fluffy on the inside, French cheese puffs are indecently delicious – nous vous défions d'arrêter à une*!

Merci à Marmiton pour la recette*.

*an aperitif (pre-dinner drink) | *we dare you to stop at one! | *Thank you to Marmiton for the recipe