My "friends"

My earlier apprehensions about being anti social and friendless here seem to have been pretty much on the mark: I don’t really have friends, but I have enough opportunities to talk to people that it doesn’t bother me too much.  It’s lonely but I like being an observer for the time being.  I consider myself to have three friends in Paris (meaning people I regularly look forward to chatting with, who always make me laugh and put me in a good mood – you will easily see that I only have one actual “friend” here).

Number 1: J, the 10 year old boy of the family I work for.  He’s such a cool kid!  It is the rare child who will not earn my resentment solely for being the cause of my having to get up at 7:10 most days to take him to school.  Despite this circumstance, strongly in his disfavor, I actually like our 25 minute walks to school in the mornings.  It’s just us, and he always chats to me about his water skiing adventures, what he hopes to cook in his classes or at home that day, how many punishments he’s gotten in school that week, or why I’m the best au pair he’s had (namely: I can walk fast and talk at the same time, I like Disneyland, and I know more about French cultural things, like how their school system is structured).  He’s very smart and interesting, and impresses me with his ability to make funny jokes in English.  He has a habit of bad grammar, though, and endearingly calls every non-living object (things we would call refer to as “it”) “he” or “she,” unintentionally anthropomorphizing everything in my mind.  In French all nouns have genders and he seems to forget that they don’t in English.  So the other day he set a used Metro ticket in a little stream of water to see if it could “sail” to the end of the street, triumphantly crying “he made it!!” when it got there.  Or about his shirt, “I like her, she’s comfortable.”  When the kids stress me out or bore me I can always count on J to make me laugh.

Number 2: The Lebanese food guy at my old market.  I still go there, mostly because I like those vendors better than the ones at the market closer to my new apartment.  He was overjoyed to see me when I got back from NY and went to go pick up some hummus and other necessary items.  We discussed our trips to our respective places of birth (he had just returned from Lebanon) and he even asked after my mother!  I think he only saw her once but was tickled that she would come to France to visit.  I hadn’t been there in weeks but he still calls me “la jolie” (cutie, but with a nicer connotation) and gives me free pita and stuffed grape leaves.  I really enjoy talking to him; he’s such a nice man.

 

Number 3: Aurelien.  The only person I actually socialize with on a regular basis but easily the most difficult “friend” with whom to hold a conversation.

And that brings me to another point: there are many people – to remain unnamed here but they know who they are! – who have their hearts set on my finding some French guy to marry or something, and unsurprisingly their hopes are set on him.  Poor Aurelien.    For the record: we aren’t dating seriously at all.  Would you be serious with someone if you only had half a language in common?  I don’t think so.  But I like having an inside look at Paris from a born-and-raised Parisian and he’s fun and patient enough with my poor language skills that it always makes me happy to see him.

Many will scoff at this point.  Poor language skills?  Pish posh, I’ve lived here for several months and did a bilingual masters!  Well – granted, I can read anything of any level in French, and I can understand a LOT better than I can speak.  But my speaking in French really does not lend itself to hanging out with people in a casual setting: I can speak fluently on academic subjects like history, sociology, politics, philosophy, etc, but when it comes to everyday situations I flounder quite a bit.  That seems silly, but it’s true.  Think of how many words you use in casual situations that have super vague meanings, are slangy, or are used differently from their first or second dictionary definitions; it’s the same in French.  I’m not familiar with most of that usage, and I’m missing a lot of basic, non-humanities related vocabulary.

A conversation Aurelien and I had this past weekend about exotic animals, and some of the ones I used to help take care of when I was little – it was like a game of Taboo: 

I asked him what a word was that I didn’t recognize.

Him: It’s a type of cat that’s not a lion or a tiger or a panther…it’s big and doesn’t live in Europe.

Me: Is it black?  Does it have polka dots?  [forgot the word for “spots”]

Him: …I don’t know?  [I think it was a leopard but I’m not sure]

Me: It’s the same kind of animal as a mouse [didn’t know how to say “rodent”] but it’s much bigger and prettier.  It has a long tail and is very soft, sometimes coats were made from its grass…er, hair. [forgot the word for “fur” and initially confused it with “grass/lawn”]  It lives in South America.  [I was going for chinchilla]

Me: It’s a very very big snake that eats its food whole, it doesn’t stop the food’s breath like an anaconda. [didn’t know the word for “strangle” or “crush”]  You know!  It’s big!

Him: blank look

Me: The Little Prince drew it and said it ate an elephant.

Him: Oh, a boa!  [I should have known that I suppose – especially considering I’ve read The Little Prince in French]

Me: Yes well, it was so big I had to carry it in a…the thing that goes on that. [pointing at a pillow, for which I could not remember the word]

Him: blank look

Me: The thing, like a little bag, that you put over that to protect it.

And he got that I meant “pillowcase.”

So you see how our conversations go sometimes.