Expat Problems: Why I Never Get to Practice My French

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Ever since I was a little girl, I’ve always wanted to speak more than one language. Je parle un peau francais et, hablo un poco Espanol, und ich spreche ein bisschen Deutch. And I know a few easy phrases in Hangul. But the only language I speak fluently, smh, is English. I think I speak it well, and that is the problem when I travel. No matter where I go, I attempt to speak the native language. Unfortunately, the locals see the opportunity to practice their English. And you guessed it, I never get to communicate in the native language. I am the guest, so I never get to practice my French.

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I Never Get to Practice my French
Speaking International English

It’s not just French. It’s also Spanish, Italian, Korean, German. I never get to practice the local language. I’ve been told I speak International English. And that’s because I am an Army brat, moving every three years my entire life. Its a result, I never picked up an accent. And that has value and anonymity. No one can detect where I am from.

And everyone wants to practice their English with a natural English speaker. That’s why Americans are seeking out all around the world. As far as I know, India is the only place they prefer Queens English. And it makes perfect sense. English is the language of business. And it probably doesn’t surprise you that it’s the language that unites as well.

Teaching English in South Korea
Bless Her Heart

I had no intentions of teaching English when I moved to South Korea. I had a good friend who was teaching a class of adult ladies. And she needed a backup, so I volunteered. It takes long before my ladies were begging me to teach permanently.

Mrs. Shim leads the pleas. Please, Stacey. We want you to teach us. We understand you much better. It didn’t take a genius to understand why. Their teacher was from West Texas and she had the southern drawl to go with it. Teaching English ended up being the highlight of my time in Daegu. I’m still not bilingual. And from time to time, they taught me too. Not so much Korean, but a lot about the culture, food, and friendship.

Come go cafe hopping around some beautiful spots in Gwangju, South Korea, with me.

The Language of Travel
Spanglish, Konglish, and Manglish

I never travel expecting people to speak English. I always attempt to speak their language, even if I have to struggle. Most people, except the French, understand that. But I’ll get back to the French in a minute.

More times than not, you’ll meet people from other countries. And many times you end up being able to communicate using basic or broken English— the language of travel. They even have a name for it in many countries. Spanglish, Konglish, and Manglish from Spain, Korea, and Malaysia, is a typical colloquial form of communication.

Many times this version of “English” is achieved by simplifying pronouns and verb tenses. Think of a baby asking for a cookie by asking… ‘me cookie” or “want cookie”. I don’t like speaking this way because you can imagine, it’s very difficult to correct later.

Practicing my French
Parisians Have No Sense of Humor

Or patience. I studied French in High School. For three years, my fellow classmates called me Natalie, the French name I selected. I was lucky enough, I thought to have a natural-born French teacher. Madame Flaubert was nice, but she was one of the most impatient people I knew. And she had no sense of humor either.

Funny, as I wrote that, I tried to think of a single French comic. But I can’t think of one besides Marceau Marceau. And I think he was more of a mime, wasn’t he. However, that’s just further evidence that the French don’t have a sense of humor, right? Who thinks mimes are funny? They should all be drowned in their imaginary boxes or float away like the balloons the pretend to carry.

A Battle Royale
My Will is Strong

And my purpose is to learn to speak conversational French no matter what. And that means I need to practice my French. This is evidenced by the fact that I used to live 30 minutes from the French border. It was close enough to enjoy lunch and be back home for dinner. One day I stopped at McDonald’s to see what new items they had on the menu.

I was confident in my ordering abilities but unfortunately stumbled on some of the delivery. The girl slapped her register and sneered, I speak French. That didn’t deter me though. I composed myself and finished ordering lunch. She had no choice but to suffer through my French.

And when she handed me my order. I said bonjour. As I walked to the door, I heard her say, goodbye, have a nice day.

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