Bordélique

For me,  learning new vocabulary is usually tough slogging that involves looking up the definition, writing it down and actively trying to memorize it. Take the word “malgré” for instance. “In spite of” the fact that I looked up its definition numerous times and wrote it down and tried to commit it to memory, the correct meaning would continue to elude me everytime I heard it over the course of a couple of weeks.  Part of the problem was that my brain was trying to make its own connections: everytime I heard “malgré”, the English word “migraine” would pop into my head and would send my brain on some wild tangent trying to link it to something meaning “painful” or “unpleasant”.  I do finally have that one pinned down, but there’s always a handful of new vocabulary ready to tumble out of my longterm memory at the first lack of focus.

Then every once and awhile, my brain passes out a “go directly to long term memory card” to a new word I’ve just learnt, and there it sets up shop with nary an effort on my part.  “Avoir une mémoire de poisson rouge” is a french saying to which I can totally relate, so unfortunately the quick learn approach doesn't happen as often as I would hope, but it’s a real bonus when it does. An example follows.

Our whole family was invited to our first children’s birthday party in France last Saturday.  We were all excited and a bit nervous and didn’t want to arrive too late, especially since it was to an address we didn’t know.  I felt relieved when we turned down the street only 5 minutes past the invite time and saw the birthday girl’s mom on the street waving at us.  As we got closer she greeted us in French with a  “Hey, you are the first ones to arrive. So Canadian! You’ve even beat the birthday girl here!”.  

After entering the rented out space that was so lovely decorated with cushions to sit on, and pretty lights looped up along the walls, Barry and I  spoke to both girls about not being too wild or loud when the other children arrived.  We laugh at this now, because even Grace at her wildest couldn’t have competed with the chaos that ensued when the other 15 children started to arrive.  I should explain here that from what we’ve observed, French children play more roughly and even at the maternelle playground there’s a whole lot of “hands on/hang off/wrestle around on the ground” play.  But even having witnessed that didn't prepare us for the back room behaviour at this party.  The kids were yelling, boys physically fighting and body slamming, food flying, cushions falling and parents yelling:  15 years plus of recess duty under my belt and even I was seeing some firsts.  My “teacher’s hat” has been well put to rest for the year, so beyond body-guarding Lily, I merely observed feeling thankful I was in no way in charge.

Then the party moved out onto the street where it was time for me to also learn some new birthday party games, including the “15 plus children running up to the tourist train to yell at and dance around the tourists” game, and the “banging on the side of a small bus as it drives by and then holding onto its bumper and running down the road behind it” activity. *(Grandparents please note: I did not permit your grand-daughters to participate in the latter.)  Some games I did recognize were also played on the street: “1,2,3 Soleil” (a french version of “Red Light, Green Light”) and “Jack a dit” (a french “Simon Says”).

It was at this point of the party that the birthay girl’s mother approached me to ask, “Ca va?  Ce n’est pas trop bordélique pour toi?”.  Now, I had never heard the word “bordélique” before, but I needed no translation, no french-english dictionary; I knew exactly what that word meant because I had been observing and living its very definition for the past few hours.  “Bordélique”, as you can probably guess, means “chaotic”, and I needed no further review or study.  Instantly, I owned a new french word.

I could honestly answer her that we were all having a good time, because we were.  And, I should add that we were told that this mother doesn’t usually put on the typical french birthday party, so we are thinking that our initiation may have been far from routine.  But, interesting?  Memorable? Bordélique? Définitivement!