Blog Update: Now available in French!

All blog posts can now be viewed in French! It’s extremely easy to switch back and forth from French posts to English posts. Here’s how:

How to view blog posts in French:

On the right panel, located at the top, is a Translate option. Click the arrow next to “Select Language” and select French. From then on, the content of the blog will be displayed in French. 

 

To stop viewing posts in French:

At the top of the page there is a tab that says: “Translated to: French.” Click the button next to it that says: “Show original” to view the blog in English. Or, click the X on the right side of that tab. The blog content will then go back to its default English setting.

There’s also an easy and convenient way to view and comprehend the French posts without having to switch back and forth from French to English– when viewing a blog post in French, hovering your mouse over any sentence will provide the English translation from the original post, while highlighting the sentence that you’re currently viewing. 

Disclaimer:

The translation between the two languages may not be perfect. Often times, translation engines produce inaccurate translations and cannot be relied on for 100% precision. Online translators are most used for quick vocabulary translation, like a one-word translation. Translating large amounts of text may result in grammatical errors and inaccurate translations.

Here is a funny example of what can happen when relying on online translation engines.

Enjoy!

 

Notes on Language: When Years of Experience Fails You

During the past seven months, I’ve made acquaintances with three German natives. All three came to the United States for three to six-month internships at Schott Optical in Massachusetts, where my boyfriend was on co-op.

The first German, Felix, was 28 years old. Aside from his native language, he knew Spanish almost fluently, and had impressive French and English skills.  Although he traveled a lot, he was eager to learn about America, as if it were the first time he had ever left his home country.

The second German that I met, Ben, was 24. His English improved throughout his stay, but wasn’t awful to begin with. Ben interacted well with his co-workers and us. He had a great sense of humor and wanted to make the most of his stay by fully exploring the area around him.

And then there was Martin. At 19 years old and without working a day in his life, Martin came to the U.S. from Bavaria, Germany, knowing very little and very basic English. He was timid and quiet, and avoided talking whenever he could. I only spent one weekend with him and during that small window of time I picked up on one thing: The most common phrase that Martin used was “I don’t know.” 

When it comes to language, the German that I can identify with most is Martin. Throughout the past seven weeks of my advanced French class, I caught myself saying “Je ne sais pas” far too often. When I heard Martin say, “I don’t know,” I immediately saw myself in French class. It became clear that when a language barrier is present, our easy way out is by the declaration of ignorance. “I don’t know” is a safety net; the words prevent people from further asking questions, they provide a quick end to unsettling conversation.

It took almost seven weeks of two-hour periods of full French exposure before I realized that I was hiding behind the wall of “I don’t know,” especially during the “bad days.”

            I’ve studied French for over seven years. Martin has studied English since he was a young boy in school. And yet we protect ourselves with “I don’t know.”

Symptoms Fluctuate: The Good and the Bad

            After five weeks of advanced French classes, I can easily categorize each class in to “good” days or “bad” days. On bad days, I leave class discouraged and frustrated and tell myself I never want to take another French class again.

            Yet a good day in French means that I comprehend at least 90 percent of the class, and can easily follow along. My daily summary presentation goes well, and I’m able to express an opinion during the discussion about the current chapter we’re studying. I noticed that after good days, I usually leave class thinking in French for an hour or two.

            As a senior in high school I was offered the chance to spend a year in France as a French Exchange student. After declining the offer for a number of reasons, I saw an article in the newspaper about Julia Karpinski, a girl from my school who spent a year in France. The most memorable thing that she said from the article was: 

 “As soon as you start dreaming in French you know you’re going to be okay.”

            In my defense, I’m only immersed in 100% French for 4 hours per week, so even though I haven’t dreamed in French, thinking in a foreign language (that I’m not already fluent in) is something to be proud of. 

            The first class of my sixth week in French, I caught myself volunteering to answer questions, which had been a first for me all quarter.  My contribution to class discussion became more voluntary, instead of waiting for the professor to call on me to answer a question or participate in the discussion.

            It’s hard to say whether I’ve had more good or bad days in terms of quantity, but the greatest factor between the two is impact. A bad day can affect me for a night, or a week, or just give me a temporarily grim outlook on the quarter. A good day gives me a sense of pride and accomplishment, and reinforces my love for the language. On a good day, I can’t wait to visit France.