Bonjour. Awkward pause.

The most challenging aspect about having learned French via dual language product labels is that I don't really speak French at all.  You are probably unsurprised to hear that while I have a vast franglais vocabulary, I can't actually string much of a sentence together. Or a question for that matter. This, naturally, in no way prevents me from trying, particularly if it will embarrass my children.


I get this opportunity only so often in our primarily anglophone west coast town and it's almost always on the telephone.


Canada has, of course, two official languages: French and English. This means that all government and quasi-government agencies must offer all communications in both languages. I know this and I also know this is why official Canadian forms are like endless rolls of papier toilette.

When you contact one of these organizations via the telephone, they will almost invariably identify themselves in French, then English, and then most likely will say, "Hello", then "Bonjour". I don't know what happens in my tiny anglophone brain at that moment but somehow I convince myself that the appropriate response is: bonjour. Well, that's the polite thing to say, you might be saying to yourself right now. Actually, no, it's the stupid thing to say because then Monsieur or Madame Bilingual THINKS I SPEAK FRENCH!


Guess what comes after my smug bonjour? Big fat rien, that's what. Awkward pause, then a burst of English like I've been holding my breath for too long. It's humiliating.


For all you fellow fakers out there, my dear friend, Lisa, who CAN really speak French, passed this along:


BTW: Perhaps I should try swearing on the phone? Oh, and I also answer the phone when staying in Mexican hotels with: Hola. Awkward pause.