Cultural Observations & Generalizations from a French Course in France

In a French language program in France, one can expect to encounter the following major groups of students: the Americans, the Japanese, the Germans, and the “Others.” The group of Others consists of all other nationalities, of which there will generally be two or three representatives present at most in a given class. In no particular order, this most often includes: Spanish, Polish, Norwegians, Swedes, Chinese, Koreans, and Canadians. Naturally, there is the possibility that someone from, say, Jordan or Thailand might have chosen to study French at a given time. They would also be included in the latter group.

In any given class, it is a general rule that around seventy-five percent of the students will speak French in a way that sounds much like their native language. Famously, the majority of Americans fit this mold, speaking French in a drawl-like manner, utilizing hard vowels and, often, ‘ums’ interjected between words. Asian citizens struggle with an entirely different set of assumptions about how words should exit the mouth. Certain German intonations turn French into something that could be perceived more as a French-German hybrid dialect. The select subgroup of people in each group that manage to speak French somewhat like French people, therefore, have an inherent separateness, and it is sometimes the case that this group of ‘elites’ will intermingle with ‘elites’ from the other groups, relating to each other through their mutual dedication to serious study and earnest effort, or their ability to find a Chinese student’s attempts to say the name ‘Bernard’ especially humorous.

Intermingling, however, is exceedingly rare. The Japanese students generally collect in the residence halls, speaking Japanese only about twenty percent less of the time than they would have back in Japan, and cooking Japanese food in their small kitchens. The Americans stand in packs talking about American football, the Cape, and the lack of coffees-to-go on French streets. The Germans get together in massive groups to go to the discotheque, while in bars they lament the pathetic size of French beer servings, making exclamations in German as nearby French patrons eye them warily. Periodically, during a class break or a night out, one might observe a certain number of members of the group of Others amidst one of these dominant groups. Such occasions foster additional conversation, in that the group is then able to discuss differences between, as an example, Poland and Germany, and ways to say “cheers” can be compared, while the two Polish girls who might be present in this example can detachedly regard the Germans yelling in German, and simultaneously perhaps meet eyes with a French person who is also regarding them, and feel somehow like intermediaries, in on both sides of the situation.

Foreign students rarely find opportunities to mix with the French. The rate of incidence rises somewhat as one climbs up the levels of French class—enhanced ability to speak creating more opportunities for casual conversation with a stranger. However, on rare occasions, when one student happens to make contact with a French person, groups of French people will mingle with some number of foreigners, usually two or three, since the foreign student is generally hesitant to venture into an all-French milieu without adequate support.

There are extended moments in such situations where the French speak rapidly amidst each other, the foreign student perhaps catching pieces of phrases that they comprehend, but generally feeling unable to interject anything into the conversation, for that would require a certain volume and certainty in speaking which is generally hard to arrive at. Every ten minutes or so, one of the French might think of something to say to one of the foreigners. If the foreigner is American, questions commonly steer towards whether the person knows the exact words to a given American song, or, if it’s a particularly musical group, one of the French will sometimes produce a guitar and request that the exact lyrics to the song be sung by the American. Failing that, there is the ubiquitous question on all French young peoples’ minds, usually phrased exactly the same way.

“Uh, George Bush, you know? You like him? I hate him.”

A brief rise in tension in the room is perceived while its occupants await the American’s response, which is usually “no,” after which the French questioner laughs and the natives resume rapid conversation. If the foreigner is Japanese, they are more often than not regarded with some degree of fascination, but not many of the French will venture to speak directly to them. If they do, the question will most likely be about manga—Japanese comics—or the level of popularity of rock music in Japan.

In many of situations for the foreign student in France, a number of words exchanged fall into a void of incomprehension, and it could be said that whatever cultural divide is there from the start remains relatively intact at the end. And yet everyone continues to have a merry time, drinking their Kronenbourgs or cheap white wine with fruit juice, perhaps pondering with amusement, and each in their own way, the vast array of possibilities for surreal transplantations of languages and people—Germans amidst Japanese going to a French disco, a Swede translating French into English for a Norwegian, and so on and so forth.