Another thing about French Class

I don't know what I have said about my French teacher but she is called Bee and she is Great! We met a few weeks after I came to Geneva and she offered really early on to give me lessons for free: one of the many wonderful things that happened surround my departure/arrival that pointed me towards the big JC (Jesus Christ not Johnny Cash, who is by the way the medium JC).

Anyway, Bee has had an amazing life. She was a really '68er and, well let's just say she has some stories. I should get her to write a blog it would be much more interesting than mine. Bee is also a German, though her French is totally perfect and her grammar much better than most actual French people (I am so not the one to talk!).

Her English is pretty amazing too; occasionally I teach her new words but only colloquially (that's fun), or the correct pronunciation of manure. There is one thing that she says though, or the manner in which she says it, which stands out every time. Sometimes when you translate things there is a bit of a gap between the languages and the intended message does not come across quite as it might in it's native tongue. For example, I am apparently a REAL freak. Sincerely and honestly; but it's OK 'cause she likes freaks. As time has passed I've established that there are a good many of us, herself included, that fit into this category; and decided that I quite like the definition.

I admit though, tonight I was thrown. I was wearing my hair slightly differently (face-length bob with a fringe right now and I had a half french plait, for those that care) and had on brown and gold tones. Bee always like to comment (with absolute truth) on my appearance and today she looked at me totally shocked and delighted and said:
"You look really pretty. Strange that you look so nice!"

Thanks.

Now, I am not totally insecure and I have been there with the linguistic short-fallings before, so it was mostly just amusing that even as the evening wore on I was getting occasional glances and the odd reiterated "Amazing, really amazing".

Is it that shocking to you?!

My favourite is when she tells me she doesn't like what I am wearing; or what I was wearing at church last week. I feel it's important, particularly when I am getting the magnitude of compliments I was tonight, that they always come with this healthy pinch of salt. The "I love your outfit today" is so often followed up with a "Shame you weren't wearing it on Sunday" that I can't ever become vain.

Thanks for helping me keep it real!