Speaking French

I have been having French lessons in a bid to finally try and raise my game here in every day communication. It caused a bit of a stir with Debrah when she saw the names Amelie and Ann dotted all over my diary - but they just happen to be the names of my French teachers. Next month I will try and meet some local girls whose names begin with the letter B !.

Amelie is a qualified teacher and I am paying her for proper lessons. She is very good and is very structured in her teaching. Somehow she speaks in a way that I can understand, and if I can't, she instinctively knows and rephrases what she has said. She is very clear and very precise and very patient and when I am with her I feel as if I can speak French. She has explained the difficult differences in the usage of 'tu' and vous' and also when to use 'savoir' and when to use 'connaitre' and has tested me on the past tense and future tense and tells me that I know it but just need to practice it. 'C'est tres facile pour elle de dire'.

Ann is a friend with whom I have a timeshare agreement - that is to say, we spend half an hour just talking in French and she corrects and helps me and half an hour talking in English and I correct and help her. This has been a less than successful arrangement so far because every time I arrange to meet her something comes up to do with the Apartments or my London job to cut short our arrangement. I suspect she will fire me soon for non-performance, especially as I am going back to London at the end of this week for eight days so won't be able to help her with her English for a while. I hope not, because although she is a little serious, she is a good counterpoint to Amelie's approach because it is less formal and more everyday.

If only it were that easy! Oh No - I live in a region that has a very strong local accent. In fact, this part of France has only really spoken French, as we know it in England, for the past 150 years - prior to that the whole of the south of France spoke Occitan, which is nearer to Catalan than it is to French. In fact French was the language of Northern France, the Capucins, William the Conqueror, Charlemagne etc and has only recently been spoken here in the south and is still regarded with some suspicion in many quarters.

So, when the Parisian born chef was here this past weekend, he told me, that on at least two occasions, he had been blatantly ignored to the point of profound rudeness by local traders who immediately recognised him as being Parisian because of his accent - despite him having lived in London for fifteen years. He went into a shop and asked for something, in fluent French, and they ignored him for five minutes before getting round to begrudgingly serving him. Whatever happened 1000 years ago with the Cathars and despite the fact that tax laws are made in Paris, the centre of government and, therefore, hostility - that is still rude behaviour to the extreme.

My upstairs neighbour - Brigitte (you see I already know a 'B') - is also originally from Paris and admits that she was unable to understand the local accent when she first arrived here.

Apparently, it is the same as only ever having heard the Queen's English and suddenly finding yourself in Newcastle or Liverpool. Alors! What chance do I have of being able to speak fluent French, when my own inability, the local dialect, the local prejudice and my own friends are conspiring against me. This evening my friend Pierre called, incognito, asking in very rapid French if I had availability for 3 weeks in July. I was taken in absolutely and failed the test completely - I just floundered - so much for my improved language skills.