Originally, Geoff and I had arranged for both our classes to be at 4 pm so that we could come and go together, even if we weren't actually in the same class. At L'Alliance Française, a new session began every month. So even though you might continue at the same time with the same teacher, technically it was a new class. Unfortunately this became clearer to me on the first day of my October class, when I learned that mine had been cancelled. Not enough of the students had renewed for that time slot. So the three of us who had registered were led down to the office to come up with a solution. After going through the options and deliberating, we all unfortunately ended up in different classes. The Japanese student Kiyoko took the 10:45 class, the girl from Mexico took the last slot at 1 pm, and I registered for the 6 pm. After entertaining myself with French audio in the media library, I met Geoff outside after his class. Talking it over with him, I realized the 6 pm class was a poor choice since we often wanted to have dinner or spend time together after work hours. So I agreed to go first thing in the morning to change to the 10:45 am class, which I did.
What I had originally loved about L'Alliance Française was that the class was relatively small (8 or so students) and it emphasized conversation, which was where I needed the most practice. So I was quite disappointed when I discovered that the 10:45 class (level 202) overflowed with students (18) and lacked conversation. Crushed, I went home and began researching other schools. But none seemed much better, and I would need more time to explore the options. Since I had loved my class last month, I thought maybe it's just a matter of finding another class at the same school. I thought maybe if I switch to the 4-hour/day class (versus 2-hour), there would be less students. I also thought that maybe, just maybe, they'd allow me to skip to the next level (203) if that had less students. If neither of those worked, I would reduce my registration from one month to two weeks so I had time to investigate other schools.
So that evening, I went back to the school to change my class, yet again. At registration, they only speak French to the students - which I found amusing since some students are there because they don't actually know French yet. Anyhow, I planned out my pitch but knew I would have to think on my feet. When it was my turn, I went and argued my case in French. The class has too many students, I said. She said that number was normal for their classes. I explained that there was no time for conversation with so many students and I won't learn that way. She asked if I spoke to the teacher. I said, yes, and she said there would be some conversation, but I don't want to stay in this class, it's too easy. Perhaps I can change to level 203? I let my question hang in the air.
She seemed to think about it a minute, and then looked on her computer at the classes available for level 203. There was 203 class at 1 pm class with only 11 students, how would that be, she asked. Perfect, I replied.
I still didn't know if I would like the class, and I wasn't sure how many times they would allow me to switch. And now I was also nervous it might be too hard. But I figured, I was only really skipping a month of classes, and how much do you really learn in a month anyway, right? Then again, I thought of how much I had progressed in only two weeks.
Thursday was actually the third day of the course, but it was my first day. Luckily, it turned out I had only missed one class since the first day had been cancelled on account of the strike. My new teacher, a thin perky 40-something Parisian, was all energy. She would dive across the room from person to person to hear what they were saying. Apparently, most of my classmates and I, perhaps in fear of stumbling on our words, tended to mumble a bit. She was a whirlwind, running from student to student, jotting things down on the blackboard and jabbering away in French the whole time. She had a wonderful way of making sure everyone in the room spoke at least a little. After about a half hour in the class it occurred to me that I understood everything that she was saying in French perfectly and I was shocked. Strangely, that realization suddenly made it more difficult for me to understand, as if it could only work if I weren't thinking about it. When I relaxed again, the words started flowing through again.
I still thought in English. On occasion I dreamt in French, but only sometimes was I sure that it was actually grammatically correct French and not just random phrases and words strung together into a meaningless riddle. The problem with thinking in English was that everything needed to be translated in my head for me to understand. I had realized something important about learning a language. The only reason that I could read better than I could converse was not because of the difference between hearing and reading, but because of speed. My processing time was still a bit too slow for most conversations. It could only work if it were simple enough, slow enough, or in context, as in a restaurant. If someone approached me hurriedly on the street and asked me a question, I would have no clue what they said. When I read, I could read extremely slowly. But no one, especially the French, spoke that slowly.
Anyway, I was thrilled. My new class was small, all women and full of vibrant conversation. I even learned a new verb tense that day - the future anterior. Plus, I had skipped a grade and it looked like I would be able to keep up just fine. The grammar didn't pose any problem, and I was not the best speaker in the class, but I definitely wasn't the worst. It was a great day. I knew right then that I would be learning a lot in the next month.
What I had originally loved about L'Alliance Française was that the class was relatively small (8 or so students) and it emphasized conversation, which was where I needed the most practice. So I was quite disappointed when I discovered that the 10:45 class (level 202) overflowed with students (18) and lacked conversation. Crushed, I went home and began researching other schools. But none seemed much better, and I would need more time to explore the options. Since I had loved my class last month, I thought maybe it's just a matter of finding another class at the same school. I thought maybe if I switch to the 4-hour/day class (versus 2-hour), there would be less students. I also thought that maybe, just maybe, they'd allow me to skip to the next level (203) if that had less students. If neither of those worked, I would reduce my registration from one month to two weeks so I had time to investigate other schools.
So that evening, I went back to the school to change my class, yet again. At registration, they only speak French to the students - which I found amusing since some students are there because they don't actually know French yet. Anyhow, I planned out my pitch but knew I would have to think on my feet. When it was my turn, I went and argued my case in French. The class has too many students, I said. She said that number was normal for their classes. I explained that there was no time for conversation with so many students and I won't learn that way. She asked if I spoke to the teacher. I said, yes, and she said there would be some conversation, but I don't want to stay in this class, it's too easy. Perhaps I can change to level 203? I let my question hang in the air.
She seemed to think about it a minute, and then looked on her computer at the classes available for level 203. There was 203 class at 1 pm class with only 11 students, how would that be, she asked. Perfect, I replied.
I still didn't know if I would like the class, and I wasn't sure how many times they would allow me to switch. And now I was also nervous it might be too hard. But I figured, I was only really skipping a month of classes, and how much do you really learn in a month anyway, right? Then again, I thought of how much I had progressed in only two weeks.
Thursday was actually the third day of the course, but it was my first day. Luckily, it turned out I had only missed one class since the first day had been cancelled on account of the strike. My new teacher, a thin perky 40-something Parisian, was all energy. She would dive across the room from person to person to hear what they were saying. Apparently, most of my classmates and I, perhaps in fear of stumbling on our words, tended to mumble a bit. She was a whirlwind, running from student to student, jotting things down on the blackboard and jabbering away in French the whole time. She had a wonderful way of making sure everyone in the room spoke at least a little. After about a half hour in the class it occurred to me that I understood everything that she was saying in French perfectly and I was shocked. Strangely, that realization suddenly made it more difficult for me to understand, as if it could only work if I weren't thinking about it. When I relaxed again, the words started flowing through again.
I still thought in English. On occasion I dreamt in French, but only sometimes was I sure that it was actually grammatically correct French and not just random phrases and words strung together into a meaningless riddle. The problem with thinking in English was that everything needed to be translated in my head for me to understand. I had realized something important about learning a language. The only reason that I could read better than I could converse was not because of the difference between hearing and reading, but because of speed. My processing time was still a bit too slow for most conversations. It could only work if it were simple enough, slow enough, or in context, as in a restaurant. If someone approached me hurriedly on the street and asked me a question, I would have no clue what they said. When I read, I could read extremely slowly. But no one, especially the French, spoke that slowly.
Anyway, I was thrilled. My new class was small, all women and full of vibrant conversation. I even learned a new verb tense that day - the future anterior. Plus, I had skipped a grade and it looked like I would be able to keep up just fine. The grammar didn't pose any problem, and I was not the best speaker in the class, but I definitely wasn't the worst. It was a great day. I knew right then that I would be learning a lot in the next month.
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