{"id":1974,"date":"2013-10-16T06:15:13","date_gmt":"2013-10-16T13:15:13","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/michellejolin.com\/wordpress\/?p=1974"},"modified":"2013-10-15T20:09:53","modified_gmt":"2013-10-16T03:09:53","slug":"qui-moi","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/michellejolin.com\/?p=1974","title":{"rendered":"Qui? Moi?"},"content":{"rendered":"

Ce soir quand m\u00eame j’ai compris,
\nFaut pas dire \u00e0 qui je ressemble,
\nFaut dire qui je suis.<\/p>\n

–Francis Cabrel\/Rosie<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

If you’re someone who speaks at least one language other than your own pretty well, especially if you’ve lived in a country where you’ve had to speak that language more or less exclusively, what I’m about to talk about might seem clear to you, but I suspect it’s something that most mono-lingual folks have never thought about. Wow. That sentence kind of sucked. It’s so bad that I’m leaving it here as a monument.<\/p>\n

Let’s try that again, shall we?<\/p>\n

When you speak or write in another language, it\u00a0 changes the way you communicate. Some of the reasons are very obvious. It’s harder to find words in a language you’re still learning. Your vocabulary is simply smaller. There may be words that are very common in daily life that they don’t teach you in the average language class. I’ll bet none of you learned the words for “just a trim” or “I hate bangs” in a language class. Or how to say “bleach” or “toenail clippers.” The first time I went grocery shopping in France, when I couldn’t find the light bulbs I had to ask for the things that you put in a lamp to make the light. It is tiring having to work so hard at making yourself understood.<\/p>\n

When you’re living in a second language, you also have to consider what you say more than you might in your native language. Otherwise, you might end up becoming a humorous anecdote when you talk about how bad the dead prostitute at the side of the road smelled. Prostitute\/skunk. Totally different words. Putain\/putois. I used the wrong one.<\/p>\n

Beyond that, though, even when you speak another language fluently, your personality changes subtly depending on the language you speak .<\/p>\n

When I lived in France, I was a lot more serious than I am in English. It was harder to be funny, for one thing. So much about humor depends on very precise word manipulation. Culturally, too, humor is very different. There are contexts that you just aren’t familiar with–TV shows, movies, popular songs, political parties, politicians–so most of the comedy world is simply dark to you in a non-native language until you’ve lived in a country for a very long time. The French don’t seem to get irony, so I may never have been funny again if I’d stayed in France.<\/p>\n

I suspect if I stayed in Italy for any length of time, I could be funny there.\u00a0 I will need to go there for approximately 3 years to determine that for certain. I’m sure work and my husband will not mind.<\/p>\n

There are also things you end up\u00a0 not saying because there are no exact translations for them. It’s hard to explain yourself in your own language sometimes, and it’s much worse in a non-native language even if you speak it very well.<\/p>\n

Personality traits that are culturally related can also be an issue. In Italy I was continually asked to speak up.\u00a0 One of my friends asked me not to smile so much because it seemed like I was flirting when I was really just walking around. In most of Europe you don’t smile and say hello to strangers. You certainly wouldn’t start a conversation with strangers in line like we do in the US. On the other hand, with their friends, Italians are very affectionate. Everyone has a nickname or a diminutive. Terms of endearment are charming and a little over the top compared to the usual American “sweetie” and “honey.” Try treasure or sparrow.\u00a0 Lots of hugging, lots of laughing, lots of talking.<\/p>\n

In France things are more restrained.\u00a0 You get\u00a0 2 or 3 kisses on the cheek when you greet a friend, (depending on where you are in France) but there’s very little hugging even among friends. There is a lot of conversation. I wonder if that’s changed with the cell phone?<\/p>\n

A difference between Italy and France when dealing with American friendliness? The Italians think it’s kind of cute. When I smiled and chatted with the staff at a restaurant in Italy\u00a0 they thought I was adorable, they remembered me AND\u00a0 how I took my coffee the next time I came in, and they asked me to help them deal with some American vegans who came in. (Hint: in Italy, good luck if you’re a vegan) In France, if you tried to chat with the staff in a restaurant you would get a very blank expression.<\/p>\n

You can probably tell who I enjoy more, can’t you?<\/p>\n

France is a beautiful country. It’s a glorious language. The food and wine are great.<\/p>\n

Italy is just as beautiful, the language is so fun to speak and read, the food and wine are divine, and they have Italians<\/em> there.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Which has nothing to do with anything linguistic, I know, except maybe as motivation.I just love Italians.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Ce soir quand m\u00eame j’ai compris, Faut pas dire \u00e0 qui je ressemble, Faut dire qui je suis. –Francis Cabrel\/Rosie If you’re someone who speaks at least one language other than your own pretty well, especially if you’ve lived in a country where you’ve had to speak that language more or less exclusively, what I’m … Continue reading Qui? Moi?<\/span><\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_publicize_message":"","jetpack_publicize_feature_enabled":true,"jetpack_social_post_already_shared":true,"jetpack_social_options":{"image_generator_settings":{"template":"highway","default_image_id":0,"font":"","enabled":false},"version":2}},"categories":[7],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-1974","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-words"],"jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/p7lr3R-vQ","jetpack_likes_enabled":true,"jetpack-related-posts":[{"id":5513,"url":"https:\/\/michellejolin.com\/?p=5513","url_meta":{"origin":1974,"position":0},"title":"The language of positivity","author":"Michelle","date":"May 3, 2014","format":false,"excerpt":"Someone at work had a cup of Starbucks with a jacket on it--one of those ones with an inspirational quote on it. 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