February 26, 2008

Lost in Translation

Sometimes I wonder how long this is going to last... How long can I go in this silence? How long can I survive in a culture that exists solely on its own language? I mean, sure, I could have learned French at some point in my life, but why would I? Im a Californian! The real need there is to learn Spanish--weekend trips to Mexico, communication with hired and un-hired help, Mexican restaurants, the flea market, the Car Wash... I mean come on!

Never would I have imagined myself moving to Paris. Never imagined at the very least going alone, not knowing a single person, not having a place to live, or a person to love...Am I crazy?

I mean I realize the very harsh realities of my situation most often when Im at Lunch with my colleagues. Lunch is a VERY big deal here. You are almost required to go to a 1hour sit down at a restaurant. We usually travel in packs of 4pp to 10pp, (yes its more like an event than a meal really) and I usually end up going with a different mix of peeps every day. Its nice. Except... well, I want to fucking talk!!!!!!!!! I hate not talking. I don't want to be the center either, but I hate not being able to contribute my well thought out and witty 2 cents. I hate that by the time things are explained to me of what was just discussed that the conversation has moved on to something else. If I decide Id like to contribute then its way after the fact and I look like a total dumbass who cant keep up. And shit. Maybe I am?

And its a bit disheartening knowing that not one person, in all of France, even knows who I am.My character. My intricacies and quirks. My funniness and my meanness. My sarcasm. oh my sarcasm...I miss you sarcasm (kiss hug kiss hug, come back soon!). Most of me is silent and my humor tends to falls on deaf ears here. And Im so scared Im gonna turn into a boring french person. (No offense frenchies!!!) And granted, Im not the easiest person to get to know, but the very basis of my being, is Lost in translation. Let me highlight my point with an example; Someone in my office called me "shy." This didnt really seem fair to me since hey, what do you want me to do? What, literally can I say to you to change your mind? What kind of conversation are we supposed to have?

"-ca va?
-ca va. et toi?
-ca va."

et voila. merde.
(And ps. it wouldnt kill anyone to brush up on their English ya know!)

I dont want to be scared of the French anymore. Some of them, er rather,No wait, I take that back. The French language scares me. I live in constant fear of being misunderstood. And even when I speak French I am misunderstood. So I suppose on the bright side at least my expectations are being met.

This is why I think I decided to pitch An American in Paris, ie, French Toast, when I did. I needed to figure out a solution for myself that would enable me to find my voice way before it would appear on its own, in French.

And peeps, I cant wait to spill it! From the mounds of steak tartare, to cutting an entire pizza with a fork and knife, to horse meat, to sushi with a side of bread, to the lack of mexican food and the great wine debate! Im covering it all and my unbiased, tell-it-til-it-hurts truth is coming. Its French Toast.

That said, until the pilots are shot, I think I just found my remix...
The ReBirth of Cool.



phew. glad i got that out! liberating! i feel much better now. thanks Blog!

3 comments:

Anonymous said...

You, shy? Puhleeze. French Toast is going to be so fabulous that those Frenchies won't know what hit 'em. Just don't forget all the little people who knew you when.

Anonymous said...

i can not wait to post clips from this show on my face book!!!

Anonymous said...

Your blog keeps getting better and better! Your older articles are not as good as newer ones you have a lot more creativity and originality now keep it up!