lost in translation

Note to self: it’s time for more French lessons.

My high school French has served me well enough over the years. When BC and I lived in Paris I managed to make it through the day with a smile and a pocket dictionary for times when my linguistic skills failed me. BC was fluent so he usually led the conversations and translated for me. From time to time I found that the French I was taught in high school wasn’t quite up to date. And this week it nearly got me in trouble.

I took GB to the building where BC and I used to live on Rue Saint Jacques in the Quartier Latin. The same boulangerie where I bought bread is still there in the same block. And the same ageless old lady is still behind the counter. It took her a minute but she recognized me. She flew out from behind the counter holding a baguette with arms outstretched to hug me.

I shouted “Come here old woman and kiss me!” in French ... or at least I thought I did. “Venir l'ici vieille femme et me baise!” But it turns out baiser isn’t kiss anymore in contempory French. Embrasser is the correct word for kiss.

Baiser is slang for fuck ... Who knew?

So “Come here old woman and fuck me!” stopped her dead in her tracks. Then she swatted me with the loaf of bread and shook her finger at me. Luckily she had a sense of humour and Anglo/Franco detente was restored.

Later that night in that same spirit of detente GB and I embrassé[d] and baise[d] our brains out.