The road is long
A rather tall chap walked into work the other day and asked to speak to the director or directrice. I listened in as his French sounded different, just a bit funnier than your average French. And what’s more I was able to understand large chunks of it. Turns out he was an American and was looking for a job. A job just like mine. In fact probably the very job that I should have been doing while listening to his conversation.
Strangely, I did not feel a sense of ‘haha, look at me I bet you wish you were in my position’ but more ‘that cheeky fella knows how to speak French really well and I don’t’. I later met up with my mate Frederick in a pub to play some chess and Frederick and I spoke French together. He didn’t hold back, and I felt very much out of my depth. This combined with losing about 6 games rather quickly didn’t have me in the best mood.
My high from the week before has washed off, and now that I am back in study-mode my vision has cleared and I can see the rocky terrain ahead of me on this path to language comprehension. I guess from time to time it is probably worth having a look at the relatively few footprints behind me – it won’t make the journey any shorter but it will remind me that I am making progress.