I was sitting in the back of the classroom when a French Teacher at one of the schools I teacher at enters. He was this rather straight-backed African fella with a rather regal deportment. Though his blue jeans and black All-Stars softened his edges. His first words, delivered sternly, “I do not deal with babies. Please put away your things, and sit quietly for class”. His accent reminded of this gentleman I used to work with named Benjamin who was from the Congo.Benjamin was the only person that I worked with who spoke to me in French whether I responded in French or English. I always liked that…
I smiled as the kids scattered, and tucked, and quickly rushed to their seats. I stayed in the class because it helps me test my comprehension, and gives me ideas for my own French classes.
The class finally ended, and the French Teacher realized I was still in the room. “Oh! Hello…I’ll be leaving,” he said.
“Salute, Monsieur…Merci Beaucoup.Vous êtes un bon professeur de français. Les élèves ont vraiment vous écouter.Ils sont très excités de se préparer pour le Carnaval.”
He sort of stared at me with the oddest look on his face. That fear crept up in my stomach. That fear that always keeps me from speaking french out loud. The fear that I sound like an idiot to a french-speaker.
“D’où êtes-vous ?” He asked
“Où pensez-vous?” I smiled, and hoped that his response would give me an indication of whether I was in fact sounding like an idiot
“Non, monsieur. Je suis seulement un Torontois”
“Non!Votre accent est parfait!”
“Merci!C’est la meilleure chose que j’ai entendu aujourd’hui”
Totally made my day. Yes. I have to work on my grammar and vocabulary, but, at least I do not sound like an IDIOT with bad grammar =)))) HAHAHAHA!