One of my favorite teachers, Madame Killlelay, taught high school French. I think she tops the list because she insisted that we speak only French in her classroom, “seulement le francais,” which forced us to learn words we did not know on our own, in real time, pre-Google Translator. It could also be because she taught “French Cooking” pass/fail in the home ec. room as an elective my senior year. Tres bien! Just learning about Paris and having some food, Mr. Hand:)
Imagine the chaos when you are in the heat of the moment, cooking a mean Canard Orange during seventh period, and you can’t remember “put it in the oven” in French (mettez-le dans la four)? And until you figure out how to get the point across, the duck has no where to go. C’est fou (crazy) and your prof (teacher) just tosses you a dog eared dictionary and tells you to figure it out (Decouvrez-le). The only rule was that if you could not figure out the proper words in French you had to communicate the need in some other way, like say pantomime with a few clucking sound. Hands on learning circa 1981. Madame Killelay rocked.
What began with:
“Michel? Anne? Vous travaillez?”
“Eh, non. Nous regardons la television. Pourquoi?”
“Les Duponts arrivent dans une heure.”
“S’il te plait Mama, encore cinq minutes.”
“Pas de question, il y’a beaucoup a faire.”
“Mais nous manquons toujours la fin.”
Returned thirty years later as:
“Bonjour, je voudrais acheter du fromage.” Me asking a man behind a massive table of cheese at the Bastille Market in Paris.
“Oui, oui.” The man at the stall looks at me expecting me to speak.
I glance around and realize he is talking to me, “Umm, Je voudrais du fromage pour quatre personne.” I state with purpose.
“Oui, oui, quell genre de fromage?” Asks the man. He said a bunch of other things but that’s all I got.
I have not idea what’s going on. So on instinct I revert back to seventh period and start to explain. My hands start to move, I hold up 4 fingers, point to a loaf of bread, pretend to spread cheese on it, roll eyes, hold my nose, make a grimacing face, pretend to take a bite and then break into a big smile and say, ”Oui, oui, le stinky cheese on bread for lunch!”
“Oh, Camembert! Vous voulez Camembert pour votre famille! C’est ici monsieur.” He says pointing to a huge wheel of runny cheese.
Success!
Then he adds, “J’ai aussie Carnard Orange si vous voulez dejeuner…”
Merci Madame Killelay, merci beaucoup…
One Response to Merci Madame Killelay
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Tres bien,merci, Steve.
mom & dad