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 [A Life in Paris (w/ two boys and a wife)] Les Poissons and Henry

It is not lost on me that we will not, I think, live in France forever. (That oughta make our parents happy.) And so, the opportunity to study the French language in the home of the French language is finite. So I embrace it; by which I mean, I have signed up for 5 weeks of "extensif" language classes, 9 hours per week. Extensif? Seems pretty intensive to me...

This might be why I've not posted recently. So many hours of class take a toll, to be sure. Yes, I know that I'm lucky enough to get to do this, but I'm the one who has to work at it. Freddy, who's creeping up on 5, is aware that he "doesn't speak French!" But, and I've said this all along, he won't actually learn French — he'll just know it. Unlike the rest of us, who have to learn it, Henry included. On the bike this morning, I asked Fred a question. "Exactement!" he replied. Now, he didn't know he was speaking French. He didn't realise he was saying "exactly," but in French. He was just speaking. And that's how easy it will be for him. Me, less so. 

The best accent in the family is Henry's. He gargles out those R's like nobody's business, but he has been deprecating about his actual ability to speak the language. Well, no more! I accompanied him and his class — 11 boys and girls — along with two teachers to Oceanopolis, in Brest, in the region of Brittany. It's a huge aquarium, with an amazing educational component. We studied fishes, starfish, shellfish, seals, and the like. It was an intensive — not extensif — program which was both very rewarding and fully exhausting. 

We spent one morning digging up crabs, fish, and other sea life at the Ile Segal. After a morning of poking about the sea, and an afternoon in seal workshops and biodiversity studies, we walked over 3 miles to a creperie situated in possibly the most beautiful park I have ever seen. The kids ran and ran and ran. I'm not embarrassed to say that I was fully in support of the idea to take taxis home from this journey.

But the best part of the trip for me was the opportunity to see Henry in his milieu, without his being aware of being watched. He knew I was there, but it didn't take long for him to ignore me, and just be with his friends. And I loved it. The children would call out to Sophie, their most excellent teacher, in English. And she would say "En Français..." And without blinking, they'd all switch over to French. Henry never gets to say anymore that he can't speak French, because I know. Because I've seen it.

Thanks for reading.

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