Goofs and Gaffes with French

As a new speaker of French I am, of course, making lots of mistakes. 

Grammar mistakes are one thing. They are important but not as critical as pronunciation or use of the wrong word because they can cause confusion or offense when you don't intend it. 

Below are some examples of my goofs and gaffes in French over the past month. I'm sure this will be a regular blog post.


brie -- bruit  
One of our neighbors was getting his hedge trimmed in the morning and the noise had gone on for 3.5 hours. I commented: "Il y avait beaucoup de brie (bree) dans ce matin." 

Because I mispronounced the word for noise, which is bruit 
(bru-ee), I had said instead "there was a lot of brie cheese in the morning."

diarrhea -- la diarrhée

I was noting that the emergency sirens in France were scary to me because I associated them with the last scene in the play, The Diary of Anne Frank, where the Nazis discover the family and break down the door. The sirens were blasting in the background. 

The diary of Anne Frank came out as The Diarrhea of Anne Frank. So sorry!


Putin -- putain

Of course I would get this one wrong without realizing it. Swear words are so embedded in a language that you are bound to say them even when you aren't looking for them. I was talking about Vladamir Putin and took a stab at pronouncing his name in French (pu-tan). Say what?!? I had just called the president of Russia a whore. Well, that's not really that far off for the richest man in the world who gained his wealth by bilking his countrymen bit by bit; he is now worth around $200 billion. I should have pronounced his name as pu-teen.  

Note: the French spell Putin's name Putine so they can avoid the very mistake I made.


tiroir -- terroir -- terreur
These three words are very close in pronunciation and it is important to get them right.

Tiroir (tear-woirr) is a drawer.

Terroir (tare-whirr) has to do with the place where things grow (see diagram). It is the way wine growers know where the wine comes from. 

Terreur (tare-urr) is the aim of terrorists against the people.



Dents -- dentelles

On a daily basis we all brush our teeth (brosser les dents). So in this town where they have made lace (dentelles) for hundreds of years, you have to be careful that you distinguish between "brushing your teeth" and "brushing your lace."

Droit -- droite

Eluiza is teaching me how to navigate the road--in French. This can sometimes be a problem because of little things like understanding which way to turn. For example, droit (pronounced drw) means straight ahead while droite (pronounced drwhat with emphasized T) means turn right. These two important words are not always easy for me to distinguish, especially in the heat of the moment like an approaching intersection of three possible options or a round-about with cars behind me breathing down my neck. After a week of struggling with these pronunciations, we resolved this mix-up with her saying "straight"for straight, droite for right and gauche (pronounced GOsh) for left.


Passage -- juste regarde

One day at the Super U grocery store Eluiza and I were looking at the meat. The young butcher came up to us and asked if he could help. I said, "nous regardons" which means "we are looking." He immediately switched the subject and asked: "passage?" which means that he recognized my foreign accent and wanted to know if I was traveling through Le Puy. I recognized that and explained that I lived and worked in town. He asked me what country I was from and I told him I was from America. Then there was some confusion--on his part, according to Eluiza--about what he understood I said. This confusion led to my own when I later thought that "passage" meant the expression "just looking." It sounded plausible. Things can get mighty confusing when it comes to language!!


Cuisine -- Aliments

False friends are words that we use in English that may have a French origin but which don't have the same meaning. I often use the word cuisine to mean food when I should use the word aliments. Cuisine in French means kitchen. So a translated sentence goes something like this:  "I will go shopping today for the kitchen."

Cuisiner is the infinitive of "to cook."

Truth be told, the French don't use the word, food, the way Americans do. They prefer to use repas when they refer to a meal or to call vegetables and meats by their names. This is another example of a false friend.

Then they use the word, nourriture (as in nourishment) to refer to food that they have cooked or will cook. It is distinguished from aliment, which is the food they buy at the grocery store. Mon Dieu!


Sel, Salé, Sale

Here's a tough one to get straight--especially when it comes to pronunciation.
Sel (pronounced "sell") is salt.
Salé (pronounced "sal-A") is salted or salty.
Sale (pronounced "sall") is dirty.
Salle (pronounced "salll") is hall. 




So, here's are some sentences using the first three:

Le sel est sale et salé.  
Le sel salé est sale.
Le sel sale est salé.

Sunday Afternoon in August

There was a break in our 100-degree weather today, so we had a leisurely--and spontaneous--afternoon of fun, food, nature, and exercise (turned out to be 10,000 steps). 

At dejeuner (our main meal at 1 p.m.) we had hamburgers, a packet of grilled vegetables (potatoes, red peppers, onions), Greek salad and ice cream, which we ate on the patio in front of our house.

Line at the BBQ

Anita, Eluiza and Line at table

It was such a nice day that a drive in the countryside seemed like a good idea. We went to Lac Bouchet, about 30 minutes from Le Puy. I drove and not only practiced my driving skills but learned of another get-away place in Nature. Here is the amazing countryside in a land that once hosted volcanoes in Auvergne, a region in central France. The cone-like hills were once volcanoes.



Lac Bouchet (lac = lake) is a crater lake that filled in with water in what was once a volcano. The lake is almost perfectly round and the water is as clear and clean as can be.

The area is heavily forested all around the lake. 









The 3 km pathway around the lake is comprised of reddish gravel. It is the iron left over from the lava of ancient volcanic eruptions. 






Of course, the lake attracts swimmers (even though there is no sand). It also hosts paddle boaters and hikers of all ages.

The long range lens on my new camera, didn't know what it was recording in this shot.  Oh well, this is France!




A restaurant provides visitors with a full meal, a beverage or a dessert. There is also a hotel here, which charges only 50 euros per couple. That's a good deal!

The sisters had ice cream while I had my first cappuccino in France. 

Here's a wooden walkway near the restaurant, but we took the high road--literally--back to the car.

It was a great day!!

Driving in French

Driving in France is like learning a new language. There's a certain logic to it, and it works for the population. However, until you know what you're doing, you don't know what you're doing. 

Driving in France is also like going to the moon. There are countless intricacies to pay attention to so that the mission can be successful. It takes skillful driving acumen and confidence, of which I'm gaining every time I take the car out. 

Last year I drove in the French countryside and it was delightfully beautiful. The green mountains and foothills of central and southwest France were breathtaking. However, the cities were always a trial because I didn't understand the road signs and markings. This year, as a full-time resident in LePuy, it is essential for me to learn the rules of the road.

Eluiza is teaching me how to navigate the road--in French. This can sometimes be a problem because of little things like understanding which way to turn. For example, droit (pronounced drw) means straight ahead while droite (pronounced drwhat with emphasized T) means turn right. These two important words are not always easy for me to distinguish, especially in the heat of the moment like an approaching intersection of three possible options or a round-about with cars behind me breathing down my neck. After a week of struggling with these pronunciations, we resolved this mix-up with her saying "straight"for straight, droite for right and gauche (pronounced GOsh) for left.


It is also important to understand that certain intersections have roadways with a "priority for passage," as illustrated with these signs. Certain blind corners give drivers a chance to get out onto the road. I haven't mastered this sign yet. It would help me tremendously to begin by first seeing the signs. 







Another priority space is the checkered road, which was hard for me to find at first. It means that when you approach an intersection and cars are lined up at a red light (feu rouge), you need to leave space in the white checkered area so that cars trying to poke into traffic have the right of way to get out of their side road.


Then there are the round-abouts, which the French seem to love. They are everywhere. The most famous one is around the Arc of Triumph in Paris (see video below).

Fortunately, the round-abouts in LePuy are not this bad, but they are scary devils until you know how to do them--and trust that the other drivers around you do, too.  

Getting into the round-about means that you must yield to drivers who are already in it. When the coast is clear, you step on it to get yourself into the circle. Then drive around it until you need to get off on your road. Don't forget your turn signal (clignotant) so the other cars know you are exiting the round-about. 

The trick to the round-about is to realize that once you are in it, you have the right of way to turn off of it. The cars outside the round-about must yield to you.


French roads are hundreds of years old and they were built before there were cars. Many city streets are narrow and winding. Turns are abrupt and not always square. Some, in fact, are very rounded and present a blind corner. One way streets don't help and may hinder getting back (or remembering) to the intended direction. A good memory helps, but if you are in an area for the first time, pray to St. Christopher, the saint of travel, to get you through it all. (He was retired in the 60s, but he has certainly been watching over me in France.)

St. Christopher

And while I'm on the subject of prayer, driving in France has allowed me the opportunity to pray more: before, during and after a ride. It has gotten me through several close calls.  For example, one roadway was so narrow, I thought it was a one-way. Nope, it was a two-way and I almost got nailed.

Another time when we were parked near the bank/post office, I asked Eluiza if once we started again if we should turn left or right. She said we'd be going left. I took her at her word and once the car started, I went straight out of the parking lot and over the slight curb. "No, no, no!" she said excitedly, "we need to back out of the parking lot and go around." However, I was already halfway into the road, so she used her usual response: "vas-y, vas-y, vas-y" which means keep going. Fortunately, there were no police around to give me a ticket or cars to nail me (I did carefully check on-coming traffic.)

There's another rule about parking that rankles me a bit: you're not supposed to drive forward if the space in front of you is empty. That's probably because someone from the other side might try to swoop into the space. Instead, back out of your space.

The first time I went forward through an empty space Eluiza nearly had a heart attack! Actually, she is very calm and collected, and she has been a fantastic driver's education teacher. One day, I asked her if she was comfortable with my driving. "Oh yes," she said--as she sat on the edge of her seat and dug her fingernails deep into the glove compartment. 

Nevertheless, after two weeks of driving, I'm feeling more comfortable at the wheel and Eluiza has complimented me on my confidence. She said I was "doué," which means gifted. In many cases I was just plain "chanceux" (lucky).





Of course, there are pedestrian crossings, which cars are obliged to stop for when pedestrians (piétons) are crossing. These are always marked at a traffic light, but sometimes they are just in the middle of a long street. Drivers are obliged to stop, however, sometimes they don't. So if you are a pedestrian, beware! And if you are a driver, for God's sake, don't kill someone.





Another important right-of-way is the bicycle marker. These can be seen on streets and on walkways. Drivers must yield to cyclists, especially when making a right turn. You don't want to cut off a cyclist because he can get hurt. To get back at you he will smash his hand on the side of your car and you'll hear a big thump. The first time you don't know what it is. After that you realize the potential consequences. Cyclists gave me a thump twice in Lyon last year, which is pretty good because Lyon has to be the worst city in the world to drive, well, maybe Paris, too, if you are brave enough to give that a try.

Sidewalks are more dangerous to you if you are a pedestrians because you can get hurt. Note that cyclists also tend to go fast and you have to watch for them very carefully.








Traffic lights are not always overhead, they are more often on the side of the road, so it's important to faites attention (be alert) to them.








Speed limits are indicated with red and white circles, which I find more colorful and friendly than American speed limit signs. Going through the city is usually 50 km (31 mph). A little further out is 70 km (44 mph), and in the countryside you can go 90-100 km (56-62 mph). Although I have a lead foot in the USA, I tend to go under the speed limit in France because the roads are so narrow, and I'm still not sure of how the car will respond. American roads tend to have wide spaces, even in the city, so it takes a different perspective to drive in France.

"Rappel" means "remember," which is diplomatic language for "don't you dare go over the speed limit, you link-head." If you do, you could get a ticket. On some roads the French police have installed speed radar that records your license plate and sends you a ticket, so taking these speed limits seriously is a "bon idée" (good idea). 

Paying attention to speed limits is important because they are not always marked. You assume whatever speed to take based on the last sign you've seen. Sooo, maybe that's the reason they tell you to "rappel."








The French also use speed bumps (sleeping police) to slow down traffic. You only have to roll over one of these the first time to remember to look for them and slow down the next time: your car goes flying, which is what happened to me. Speed bump are indicated with a sign (see right), which tends to be more obscure than the arrows (below) that let you know you are about to go over a bump. "Faites attention

Construction, like in America, is ever-present and veering around it along with cars and bicyclists racing down the road, car doors opening in front of you and pedestrians trying to cross is a challenge. While there aren't signs posted indicating that you will serve jail time and pay a $10,000 fine for hitting a road worker, you really don't want to hit a worker just out of your humanity. Once again, the narrow roads make maneuvering a challenge. This photo illustrates what it seems like to me to drive French city roads.

And, oh, I almost forgot, watch out for motorcyclists who like to ride on the lane lines in between the cars. They show no fear and seem quite adept at driving. They are, nonetheless, one more hazard on the road. 

This sign amuses me. It indicates when you have  just left a city. When you enter the city, the red marker is not there. 

Cities around LePuy are stacked up next to each other without much space in between them. So, I guess, this helps drivers know where they are. The only other place I've experienced this chain of cities phenomenon is in the Boston area.  



I haven't seen this sign yet, but I like it. It says: "crossing without barriers or half-barriers." Should be interesting to find out what that means.

Learning to drive French roads is like learning a new language. I contend that once I master French driving, I will master an understanding of the French mentality.  "Ho-ho-ho," said Sister Simone in her best British English. "The majority of French people do not drive."  Zut alors!! (which means holy s!@#$%^&*).

Here is a website that provides a test of French street signs.


Here is a blog called "Americans in France" that teaches visitors about French roads and their signage--and a lot of other things.

Saturday Market Day

It's Market Day in Le Puy and the main streets of the old city are crowded with people--not only local people but hundreds of tourists who have come to visit the historic city. The early morning fog did not deter anyone. If anything, it made the climb up to the city more mystical, more intriguing, more intentional. The coolness of the air is especially refreshing after so many hot days. 

The sights here are colorful in a setting of cobblestone streets and gray plastered buildings with painted wooden shutters. People mill about the countless stands of vegetables, breads, cheeses, meats, sausages, seafoods, honey, liquors, nuts, clothes, soaps, jewelry, antiques, food trucks and roasted chickens. Everything you'd ever want is here. The smell of the cheese stinks, but the lines are long so it must be good. Some things are strange delicacies. And the familiar hot dogs, hamburgers and ribs are missing, but pinch me, this is France!

artisan bread 

food truck 

quail all set for Babette's feast










pigeons and 
their eggs (I think)

green lentils of Le Puy
(a.k.a. French lentils)

goat cheese 

red garlic

distinguishing a product stand with a funny hat

roasted chicken 

saucisson -- 
the spice of life in France

yellow mushrooms




















As with American farm markets, people are happy and curious. Even children are engaged. Those who want to walk their dogs frequently end up carrying them, at least the small ones, to avoid getting them hurt by the crush of the crowd.

Then there are those who advertise something or another. This morning some very strange-looking, almost medieval-like animators were attracting crowds.

I'd love to see whatever entertainment they offer. It's got to be good.








International Folk Festival -- July 17-23

Malaysian Band marches down street to find a place to perform

On this particular weekend the town is celebrating folk cultures so every day from July 17-23 groups from several different countries perform in the streets. The folk festivals have been held since 2013 and they are most inspiring. These groups share their culture through music, dance and song, and it's really extraordinary to see all these young people perform after they have traveled many miles to be here for the festival. What an opportunity for them--and for the locals and tourists who come to see them. This year's groups are from Malaysia, Macedonia, Serbia, Bolivia and Extremadura (southwest Spain). We saw all but the Bolivian group.

Spanish dancers from Extremadura use their castanets to the approval of the woman in the back

Macedonian band plays romp pah pah

Malaysians provide a dramatic drum and "tambourine" performance

shy boy clings to his mother as they pose with Serbian dancers

It is striking that so much of life here takes place outdoors. Windows of houses and buildings have no screens and they open wide to the outside. People walk everywhere all the time. We walk almost every day and that means we scale a steep hill upwards and downwards. (I'm getting used to it after 2 weeks!) Of course, there are the sidewalk cafés where people sit over a glass of wine or the tiniest cup of espresso and nurse it for hours. 

People aren't afraid of the street nor do they shun or condemn it. I'm sure they don't think about it, but they seem to celebrate the street and use it as a gathering place whether they have business to attend to or not. They certainly guard this kind of life. For example, on November 13, 2015 when gunmen and suicide bombers almost simultaneously hit a concert hall, a major stadium, restaurants and bars in Paris and left 130 people dead and hundreds wounded, a French friend of mine said he and his countrymen were not about to give up on their way of life (meaning life on the street) no matter what.

In the USA we've largely gotten away from this sensibility and retreated instead to our cars and secured our houses. People who "live on the street" are seen as poor people, and loitering is not allowed. Even so, I think one reason why Americans enjoy places like Europe so much is that they encounter an open-air celebration of life that the Italians call "la dolce di non fare niente" (the sweetness of just doing nothing).



Dr. Colleen Long was featured in a September 2014 article in  Psychology Today talking about "la dolce di non fare niente." She says:

"The idea that “doing nothing,” is actually an event in and of itself. The idea that we no longer run on a treadmill of activity from getting the kids ready for school, to brushing our teeth, to conference calls, to picking up kids, fixing dinner, and bed- only to start over again. The idea that our actions day to day become influenced by our instincts and no longer by routines, shoulds, and musts."

It's the Puritan ethic of hard work and avoidance of idleness that gets to us, she says, even though we yearn for a little relaxation. 

The kind of relaxation we are looking for, we all yearn for--does not exist on the side of a volcano, in a rare flower, or on a desolate island far away. That kind of relaxation exists within each of us and is ours for the taking if we’re willing to put in the effort.

La dolce di non fare niente is something we can aspire to in our daily lives. And maybe we could get a little push toward it if we made the street a little more attractive and a little more lively.