Sunday, May 30, 2010

Dreaming in French

Dreaming in French.  Watercolor & Gouache by Linda Hampton Smith

From time to time, I dream in French.  I love when I do because I'm quite fluent in my dreams.  Not so in real life.  I speak a decent French.  I can get by in a Francophone country.  But if someone responds to me in "bullet-speed" French, forget it.  Je suis perdue!

The following dream may point to my insecurities on the matter.  (Or deeper insecurites, perhaps!)  Any takers on interpretations?...... 

I was in a train station and about to depart for France.  I could not find my ticket.  I stood in line at a ticket booth.  I approached the ticket master and still hadn't found it.  I was pulling wads of papers out of my purse and going through them one by one.  I apologized profusely in French to the ticket master.  At this point, there was a long line of impatient people in back of me.  I turned around and apologized en français to them as well.  My ability to speak French wasn't winning me any sympathy! 

The ticketmaster finally said, "You have one hour to find your ticket.  Otherwise you can't go."  At that very moment, I found the ticket.  I had tucked it away in a little pouch in my wallet.  The ticket had a picture of three little pigs (!?) printed on it.  I was elated.  I turned around for one last time and apologized to the crowd-  "Désolée,"  I said.

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