Sometimes family members and friends in the States are surprised to hear that I’m still learning French after all these years. “Don’t you speak French by now?” they ask. Yep, despite starting French classes at the age of 12 (18 years ago!) and a Masters degree followed by a PhD including study abroad in francophone countries on three occasions, yes, people, I’m still learning French.
Take gardening, for example. Nico’s family is into large-scale gardening in a major way. And I’m not talking a cute little vegetable patch. I’m talking several fields with massive quantities of everything from leeks to raspberries to Swiss chard – enough to feed four households for an entire year. Literally. This year, Nico’s dad announced that he had negotiated use of an additional “little” field for Nico and me. The 49 ft by 115 ft space is now completely full and I have expanded my French gardening vocabulary considerably. Let’s face it, words like “rototiller” or “nettle manure” aren’t exactly words that you’re likely to learn or teach in a French classroom. In French class, you learn the word for “cherry” – not the names of five different varieties of cherries and their various uses!
And it doesn’t stop with vocabulary. When Nico was getting ready to plant radishes, his mom exclaimed, “You’d better check if it’s the right moon!” The right moon for planting radishes? Had I understood her correctly? Yep. Last week, we had just finished planting several rows of beans when we were told, “You’re crazy! Planting beans on Ascension Day? They’ll never grow!” I’m telling you, I learn something new every day!
A little over a month ago, signs popped up all over the village where we live advertising the 559th annual “biquion” fair (just let that sink in for a second – 559th ANNUAL fair). Since all of the signs featured pictures of baby goats, I logically assumed that the word “biquion” must mean baby goat, so when chatting with a friend from Paris who was coming to visit that weekend, I excitedly told her, “You’re going to love it! The “biquion” fair is this weekend too!”
There was a pause. “Biquion?” she asked, “What’s that?”
“A baby goat, of course!” I answered.
“Huh,” she said, “I’ve never heard of that word before.”
Puzzled, I turned to a local friend for help, thinking that it may be a word from the regional dialect.
“Nope,” he said, “I’ve never heard that word either.”
It turns out that “biquion” is a regional, medieval word for “baby goat” used exclusively nowadays for our village’s annual fair. Now I ask you, how in the Hell was I supposed to know that?
If you like what you just read, sign up below to receive monthly updates straight to your inbox! :)
