Paperclips. Not a lot to ask for, simply tiny necessities of life. An acquaintance, not having looked up the word before leaving home, found it necessary to explain what she wanted (using words of several syllables and much sign language) at the local office stationery store.
“Quelque chose de tenir des papiers ensemble,” she tried, and was offered a stapler. “Un petit morceau de fil?” brought only blank looks; presumably the assistant couldn’t comprehend her need for a small piece of wire. She picked up pieces of paper and tried to mime using a paperclip. Much Gallic shrugging of shoulders was her only reward. In desperation she asked if she could look through the cupboards. She found several boxes of paperclips, removed one, and showed it to the shop assistant. “Ah,” said he, as if to an imbecile, “les trombones!”
Needing also to purchase a new rule she continued, “j’ai besoin d’une règle.” The shop assistant replied: “Trois euros pour les trombones.” Mystified as to why she had to pay separately for each item, she duly handed over the three euros and the man walked away. After waiting some minutes, my acquaintance walked up to him and asked for her rule. Bemused, the assistant replied that she had already paid.
After a series of further misunderstandings they realized that she’d mispronounced règle as régler. The assistant had thought that she’d asked to pay.
Another acquaintance went with his wife to buy a car. On seeing the model he wanted, he turned to the salesman and said: “Je suis intéressant.” The salesman smiled broadly, “Mais, non, Monsieur,” he replied. He gestured towards the man’s wife. “Elle est intéressante! Mais vous! Vous êtes intéressé!”
Mispronunciations change the entire meaning of what is said and we often describe ourselves in terms of the weather. An acquaintance informed me that a mutual friend, who was in tears, was raining. Another friend frequently boasted of being cloudy: “Je suis une nuageuse,” she would say with aplomb, before diving into the pool for her morning swim. Her husband, I think embarrassed by her boastful statement, would exclaim deprecatingly that
she was an original. “Elle est orageuse,” he would say. Maybe he was right, she was prone to being a bit stormy.
Words that sound similar to the English word, but have a different meaning often leave us floundering. My husband had to spend a couple of nights in hospital and was asked by the nurse: “Qui est votre médicin?” Derek took out his regular medication from his bag and placed the pills on the bed. The nurse smiled and repeated her request, Derek pointed to the medication. “Non, Monsieur, ceux sont vos médicaments. Qui est votre médicin?” Light dawned; she wanted the name of his doctor.
When we went to join our local tennis club the secretary explained that we would need lessons. We assured him that our standard of play was quite good, indeed we had both played at club league level, and so lessons would not be required. He insisted that without the lessons we could not join the club. With very bad grace we agreed to take the lessons and were given a form to fill in. Our faces became very red on reading the document. We realised that it wasn’t lessons that were a prerequisite, but a license.
But such misunderstanding are a small price to pay for the privilege of living la vie française and besides, as our French friends would say, le bureau des pleurs est fermé. The office of tears is closed, so there is no point in moaning.
© Lorraine Mace 2004
