Knowing French and speaking French is not the same. I noticed this when I came to live in Brussels, a very francophone city.
French was my second language all throughout schooling. I was proud of knowing another foreign language after learning French for about six years. I was in for a shock when I came to Brussels.
I realized painfully that I could not catch the flow of the spoken language. I could read and understand French but always heard only the first and the last words of the spoken word. The message in between was a blur.
I wanted to go for French classes ever since I came to Brussels to remedy my unfortunate condition.
I have always admired the French language. I believe it to be beautiful, romantic and passionate - almost like a language of love. I wanted to speak the language so badly. I was searching for a good language school in Brussels.
There was always some hindrance when I searched for language classes. Sometimes the timings didn't match or the school was too far. My quest for language fluency came to a stand-still for a while.
I was again searching for some intensive courses in French this summer. My internet search led me to a very reputed, government recognized language school in Brussels. I decided to give it a try.
I got on the bus to the institute after giving them a call to ask about the admissions. A very cheerful lady met me at their secretariat and explained the nature of the course to me. I was not yet convinced.
I met with Dominique next, the French professor, and asked permission to sit in class for an hour before deciding whether to join or not.
I was so impressed by her classes. It was perfect for my needs. The course was intensive but it was easy for me to follow. I had years of french lessons, the required vocabulary and grammer. The emphasis was on spoken language (oral) and this was what I had hoped for.
I stayed on for the entire day after informing Dominique that I was enrolling in her class. I also signed up for the entire course (50 hours in two weeks).
After a week of classes, I am so relieved to have gained the confidence to speak in French. I spoke in French to the police lady who came for a verification survey yesterday. My slightly bewildered husband looked on as I conversed with her. I felt so proud after the incident.
I understood the conversations around me for the first time after coming to Brussels. The announcements in the supermarket, the instructions at the shop counters, conversations in the bus and the random ramblings on the street all make sense to me now. It is all about picking up the flow of the language.
I was so excited after my first 25 hours of the course that I picked up French dictionary and newspapers for me to read from a shop near my institute.
There are 5 students in class besides me in my French class. We are allowed to speak only in French in the institute and the classes are held in only French (not a word of English).
Dominique, our instructor, has an interesting way of presenting the language. She is very enthusiastic and explains new French words using the French words we already know. If she can't get through to us, she uses actions (but never a word of English). She takes us to the video and computer labs (language labs) to help us understand the accents, tones and situations in French.
I made quite a few friends in my French class. Two of the lovely ladies in class are from Latvia. They work for the European Commission in Brussels. I go out for lunch with these two beautiful damsels to nearby eateries.
Inara, one of the Latvian ladies, is a tall and graceful female. I admire her maturity and her knowledge of world cultures and customs. She gave me a book called Monsoon Diary written by a South Indian about her Indian heritage. Isn't it so strange to get a book on Indian culture from a European?
Ivetta, the other Latvian, is vivacious, pretty and elegant. She has curly blond hair and takes great care to apply and reapply her make-up. I am not a fan of bright, violet lipstick but somehow, I love the contrast of her violet lips and clear, white skin.
Post lunch, we take a stroll on the crowded street below and visit a few shops. I gleefully notice few heads turning at the sight of a brown, Indian lady flanked by tall and fair-skinned European beauties.
Brigette, another one of the students, is a German expert in international relations for the European Commission. I look at her in awe during the coffee break as she explains her work and her trips to conflict zones such as Iraq, Afganistan and Kosovo.
Seyonara is a brazilian student who is here in Brussels to learn fashion. True to her interests, she stands out due to her stylish boots and chic outfits.
I can't leave out Claudio, a young Romanian, who boasted happily that he has a girl-friend in ever country he visits (how truly romantic).
I have the next 25 hours to finish up next week and we will sink into a more advanced
level of French.
There are downsides to this entire episode. I feel so tired after each day because the session is so intensive (continous thinking and training the brain to accept a foreign language). I go to bed early but need a crane to lift me up in the morning (Thank you Frank).
I constantly rush to the bus stop only to miss my bus by a whisker (how annoying). Then it is a harrowing 20 minutes wait at the bus stop followed by a sleepy 40 minutes bus ride.
The benefits of the course far outweigh the cons. I love the feel of the language around me during the classes. I try to extract the maximum out of the language classes with a zeal and persistence that amazes even myself.
It is one more trying week of intensive language lessons for me. I am going to make the most out of the experience.
As for now, Au revoir from Brussels!
French was my second language all throughout schooling. I was proud of knowing another foreign language after learning French for about six years. I was in for a shock when I came to Brussels.
I realized painfully that I could not catch the flow of the spoken language. I could read and understand French but always heard only the first and the last words of the spoken word. The message in between was a blur.
I wanted to go for French classes ever since I came to Brussels to remedy my unfortunate condition.
I have always admired the French language. I believe it to be beautiful, romantic and passionate - almost like a language of love. I wanted to speak the language so badly. I was searching for a good language school in Brussels.
There was always some hindrance when I searched for language classes. Sometimes the timings didn't match or the school was too far. My quest for language fluency came to a stand-still for a while.
I was again searching for some intensive courses in French this summer. My internet search led me to a very reputed, government recognized language school in Brussels. I decided to give it a try.
I got on the bus to the institute after giving them a call to ask about the admissions. A very cheerful lady met me at their secretariat and explained the nature of the course to me. I was not yet convinced.
I met with Dominique next, the French professor, and asked permission to sit in class for an hour before deciding whether to join or not.
I was so impressed by her classes. It was perfect for my needs. The course was intensive but it was easy for me to follow. I had years of french lessons, the required vocabulary and grammer. The emphasis was on spoken language (oral) and this was what I had hoped for.
I stayed on for the entire day after informing Dominique that I was enrolling in her class. I also signed up for the entire course (50 hours in two weeks).
After a week of classes, I am so relieved to have gained the confidence to speak in French. I spoke in French to the police lady who came for a verification survey yesterday. My slightly bewildered husband looked on as I conversed with her. I felt so proud after the incident.
I understood the conversations around me for the first time after coming to Brussels. The announcements in the supermarket, the instructions at the shop counters, conversations in the bus and the random ramblings on the street all make sense to me now. It is all about picking up the flow of the language.
I was so excited after my first 25 hours of the course that I picked up French dictionary and newspapers for me to read from a shop near my institute.
There are 5 students in class besides me in my French class. We are allowed to speak only in French in the institute and the classes are held in only French (not a word of English).
Dominique, our instructor, has an interesting way of presenting the language. She is very enthusiastic and explains new French words using the French words we already know. If she can't get through to us, she uses actions (but never a word of English). She takes us to the video and computer labs (language labs) to help us understand the accents, tones and situations in French.
I made quite a few friends in my French class. Two of the lovely ladies in class are from Latvia. They work for the European Commission in Brussels. I go out for lunch with these two beautiful damsels to nearby eateries.
Inara, one of the Latvian ladies, is a tall and graceful female. I admire her maturity and her knowledge of world cultures and customs. She gave me a book called Monsoon Diary written by a South Indian about her Indian heritage. Isn't it so strange to get a book on Indian culture from a European?
Ivetta, the other Latvian, is vivacious, pretty and elegant. She has curly blond hair and takes great care to apply and reapply her make-up. I am not a fan of bright, violet lipstick but somehow, I love the contrast of her violet lips and clear, white skin.
Post lunch, we take a stroll on the crowded street below and visit a few shops. I gleefully notice few heads turning at the sight of a brown, Indian lady flanked by tall and fair-skinned European beauties.
Brigette, another one of the students, is a German expert in international relations for the European Commission. I look at her in awe during the coffee break as she explains her work and her trips to conflict zones such as Iraq, Afganistan and Kosovo.
Seyonara is a brazilian student who is here in Brussels to learn fashion. True to her interests, she stands out due to her stylish boots and chic outfits.
I can't leave out Claudio, a young Romanian, who boasted happily that he has a girl-friend in ever country he visits (how truly romantic).
I have the next 25 hours to finish up next week and we will sink into a more advanced
level of French.
There are downsides to this entire episode. I feel so tired after each day because the session is so intensive (continous thinking and training the brain to accept a foreign language). I go to bed early but need a crane to lift me up in the morning (Thank you Frank).
I constantly rush to the bus stop only to miss my bus by a whisker (how annoying). Then it is a harrowing 20 minutes wait at the bus stop followed by a sleepy 40 minutes bus ride.
The benefits of the course far outweigh the cons. I love the feel of the language around me during the classes. I try to extract the maximum out of the language classes with a zeal and persistence that amazes even myself.
It is one more trying week of intensive language lessons for me. I am going to make the most out of the experience.
As for now, Au revoir from Brussels!
2 comments:
Which school did you go to for French lessons?
Hello! I just moved to Brussels, Belgium and am also looking for a French immersion school. Which school did you attend? Thank you!
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