It’s been two months since I began my job here in Québec
City, and the process of transition has been smoother than almost any of my
previous moves. Although experience has definitely played a role in simplifying
the adjustment, it also helps that I am moving within my own country. Not only
is my new home within a day’s drive of Anglophone Canada in either direction,
it’s also still in Canada. The
differences of language and culture are definitely significant, but most little
things are familiar – I still buy the same brand of pasta, collect the same
grocery points, use the same bank, and watch the same sports. Autumn sets in
just as quickly, and people complain about the temperature almost as much
(admittedly, Haligonians have more to complain about).
The most obvious and defining difference in Québec is
language, of course. I last studied French in high school almost (gasp!) a
decade ago. Since then, I’ve confused myself by studying German and Spanish,
becoming almost fluent in Spanish after being immersed in it for a school year.
I also threw in a bit of Dutch, Kiwi English, and urban planner-ese for good
measure. Suffice to say, my limited French resources were buried deep in
cobweb-ridden parts of my brain, probably next to the names of elementary
school classmates who moved away and my lacrosse skills.
But I had hope! Anglophones have fearfully referred me to
the fact that 2 out of 3 Québec City residents do not speak English, but I
prefer to see it as a glass 1/3 full. After all, some of my Odyssey colleagues
have been placed in towns where the English glass is only about 1/100 full, so
I’m rather lucky. The balance of languages here means I can practice French all
the time if I want, but I am not
obligated to. Store clerks are usually able to switch to English, and servers
frequently offer a choice between the two languages; some will even ask if you’re
learning French to give you the opportunity to practice.
That said, I usually make the effort to speak French when I’m
out and about. It’s mostly for fear of being rude that I won’t ask people if
they speak English; instead, I steamroller ahead in poorly-pronounced French
until they decide to switch over. And the more I try French, the less necessary
English becomes. My comprehension is still pretty weak, so I’m not shooting the
breeze with any strangers, but I can usually get what I need (a library card,
for example). I’m pretty impressed with how far I’ve come in two months, given
that I’m basically building from French 2 in high school, my knowledge of
Spanish, and my experience reading food labels in two languages over the past 8
years.*
I have also come to a couple important realizations lately.
Firstly, Québec French is not my high school textbook’s French. It’s not even
uniform across the province. Pronunciations are weird. English words appear at
unexpected times. There are even phrases made up of English words that are not
phrases in English, but work as such in Québec French. The other day I heard a francophone
telling a story that included the words “bye bye, Charlie Brown” as if
they had some agreed-upon meaning. I’m sure it does to him, but I’ve never
heard it in English.
Secondly, I’ve realized that French as a whole is not easy. Growing
up speaking English, all I heard from language teachers was how complicated
English is and how every other language followed its rules more closely and oh,
weren’t we lucky that we learned the hardest of all languages as our first…bull.
French has as many exceptions, weird expressions, and strange rules as English.
You can tell by the number of times I’ve asked people to explain various things
and heard “I guess we just say it that way” in response (that almost never happened in Spain).
These realizations have been extremely liberating when it
comes to trying out my French in public. Did I just say that wrong, or is this language
just weird? Did I just put the emphasis on the wrong syllable, or am I just
speaking with a Parisian accent? Did I just cheat by using an English word, or
is it one that Quebeckers use too?
Who knows? At least I have a library card now.
Traffic calming for bicycles near my new place. You can take the nerd out of planning school, but you can't... |
The first time I've had an office with my name on it! |
The dunes near Tadoussac. |
*When my French roommate asked what was in the clam chowder
I made, I quickly dove into the recycling bin for the empty can of clams and
said, “uhhh….palourdes.”