Learning the lingo in Paris

I was curious to see how I would make out when we were in France a few years ago. I had attended French Immersion all through public school and high school, but 15 years later I had never worked in a bilingual position and had only been to Quebec and other French-speaking areas in Canada a handful of times... where they spoke to you in English the moment they realized you didn't have the right French-Canadian accent. It was going to be interesting to see how I fared when I couldn't so easily fall back on my mother tongue.

Our first challenge happened just minutes after stepping off the plane at Charles de Gaulle, when our daughter's car seat went AWOL from the baggage carousel. I had to a) find someone who could help and b) figure out how to express our problem. Somehow, though my school vocabulary had never revolved around around children's furniture, I managed to ask for a siège d'auto and have the airport worker understand what I was looking for. Success #1!

After having to ask for help purchasing a train ticket to get into Paris and attempting to read directions, I felt my groove was already coming back. A half hour in France, and was a rock star again!

Well, kind of. Although I seemed to manage communication enough to get my point across, and understand enough to get the gist of instructions or directions (as the case may be), I quickly discovered that my terminology left lots of room for embarrassment.

Hole-in-the-ground toilet, Polidor Restaurant, Paris

In school, when one had to use the washroom we would ask for the salle de bain. At least, that's what I remember. Salle de bain quite literally translates to Bathroom. Not wrong. In English, I use the bathroom all the time. But in the literal sense, a Parisian will look at you strangely - especially if you are in a restaurant or other public place when you ask for it. After all, why would you want to take a bath in a restaurant? What I should have asked for was une toilette - just a toilet.

Another expression I caught on to was "pardon." Growing up, to be polite you would say, "Excusez moi!" 

"Excuse me, sir - which direction is the Louvre?"
"Excuse me, could you step aside so that I may pass?"

Apparently there, you only use "Excusez moi" if you've just broken wind. Otherwise, you get a look of disgust for no good reason. In nearly all other cases, a true Parisian will just say "Pardon." We caught on to this quickly: "Pardon, pardon... pardon - pardon," as we weaved through the crowds. Oh, well.

Otherwise, we made out okay aside from a few little mix-up of words that weren't big enough to make us incomprehensible. Like, when renting a car, I got a look of surprise from the clerk when I asked for a camion - a truck, when what I really wanted was a simple voiture (car). No problem. I got what I wanted.

The French have a reputation for being rude, but our experience, despite our slips, was just the opposite. Everywhere we went, people went out of their way to be helpful and friendly. This lead us to the conclusion that the French value their culture. You are visiting their country and therefore you should not expect them to adapt to you. As long as you try to speak their language - even if you fail miserably - they will make an effort for you. If you don't try at all, they won't either.