It is a good thing that Susan and I are not relying on my high school French because it is slightly worse than ‘nonexistent’. When I was twelve and in year 7, I studied one term of German and one term of French at The Rock Central School. Five students chose languages as an elective, but because there were only about a dozen in the whole year level, we didn’t have a teacher. Instead, the New South Wales Department of Education provided correspondence packages that included cassette tapes and workbooks. Sitting in a tiny annex next to the English classroom (which I guess constituted supervision) the three boys took French in the first term while we girls did German, and then we swapped. Unfortunately for us, the boys lost the French tapes before their course of instruction ended. So while they eagerly embarked upon the full German package, and quickly learnt how to call us ‘dogs’, Margaret and I were left to guess how the French words might be pronounced. This introduction to French has profoundly shaped my current skills in pronunciation. Today I even failed to order a Coca-Cola. Thankfully, both Coke and kindness are universal and I eventually made myself understood. The waitstaff at first looked puzzled, then relieved, and finally amused as they realized it was my silly accent, and my linguistic inability, causing the trouble. Susan is using Google Translate quite effectively, but my phone has stubbornly refused to accept the app. This is despite several attempts to download and install it. Granted, I am fairly inept and technophobic, but I also suspect that IT systems somehow sense my fear.
As we have taken a quick deep dive into Paris, and now Bordeaux, I am also realizing again how effective and connective non-verbal communication can be. This proved true just a few weeks ago during the Vipassana meditation retreat, even while practising Noble Silence. So here in France, while refreshing my high-school French skills, I have also been honing Theatre Sports skills gained at church camps and youth group (because there was no drama class at The Rock Central).
Rodin uses gesture cast in bronze to communicate the courage of the burghers in the 1347 siege of Calais, making clear a French perspective on the Hundred-Year War with the English and also his view of the wider human dilemma.
These few days in Bangkok, Paris and Bordeaux, before the commencement of our walk, have been fast-paced and superficial. We have thrown ourselves into various forms of transport, taken tours and sampled the fare at restaurants and museums. When conducted in Thai and French, otherwise simple activities require a mundane form of courage that the Burghers of Calais might nevertheless recognize. As an educated but mono-linguistic Australian woman, I possess a well-honed vocabulary that doesn’t serve me at all in my current context. Because I am also reasonably reserved and reticent, I will need to stretch out my arms a little more than I usually prefer to. Still easier than picking up French and Spanish! And provoking lots to think about as we begin our ‘pre-walk’ walk tomorrow, from Bayonne to St Jean Pied de Port.
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