Well, we have made the move, busy week plus. Getting things back under control. So here we go with the next section:
Page 5
"If we learned the names of these places, it did us no good with our French when we took a little trip into Quebec. Faith, J.W., Merry Sue and I gave ourselves a day in the French city of Rouyan, Quebec. Since we no "Parlez vous (much) Francais" and the people there no "parlez" our English we had a hilarious time making our wishes known. The first thing we tried to do was find a place to eat. By the time we had walked ourselves tot he point of near collapse (especially me) we were clamoring for food. But, we had seen nothing that faintly resembled a hamburger stand, which was about our speed. You know I am sorry to say some of my family is shy. And, you would never guess which of them it is Believe me or not my dear husband would much rather starve than ask where he could find a place to eat, or he would drive miles out of the way before letting anyone know he was on the wrong road. I know from experience. Not old talkative me. Once when visiting a dear friend in Connecticut, she put her young daughter and me on the train for New York. We were going to Rockefeller Center Music Hall and she said as long as we had a tongue in our head and could talk we could go anywhere, we did and I have never forgotten this bit of advice.
So to J.W's embarrasment and pleas not to do it, showing my ignorance, I crossed the street and accosted two policemen, to ask where we should go. Rather I thought I asked them. I certainly talked long enough. Well, my poor knowledge of French id me no good and their knowledge of English not much better, so we went round and round for a few minutes. One of them finally decided to let me know he spoke a little more English than I did French, after I made him understand I was hungry by sign language which is a wonderful thing. I must have resembled a circus contortionist from all I hear. He told me there was "a small, clean, good food" and pointed to a little cafe or lunch room half a block from where we stood. Hooray!!! The other policeman kept time by nodding his head with a grin on his face, seemed to be in full agreement and understanding of all that was said. Phooey on the Frenchmen!!!
The sign on the restaurant said "Chez Jeanette". We entered and here the fun really started. A very pretty, smiling young French waitress came to take our orders and also J.W.'s eye (darn the man). Merry Sue is a good French scholar. In fact she is better than good, third in her class. However, as the accents of people from all over the United States differ, so do the accents of the true French differ from the French taught and spoken in High Schools. With much sign language, pointing to the menu, and, the help of a few greatly amused customers we finally made our wishes known. All we wanted was a hamburger and french fries for all, and our drinks. Never have I eaten such good hamburgers. Faith and I knew to say cafe' for coffee and tell her it was "bon" for good. We learned that french fries were frites (freets). She understood we wanted apple pie a la mode, this must be a universal order and the same in any language. Before we go again I betcha I can order a meal in French, even to the lowly hamburger.
After lunch we shopped around for souvenirs but nothing was attractive and unusual enough to spend our money for so J.W. bought more cards to mail to his many friends back home. He mailed about 175 during the time we were away. By this time all of us were in great need, and in one particular case (mine)a rushing need to find a relief station or to be more explicit the restroom. In a large department store our search began. Again an understanding of the language would have been a big help but, we once again had to revert to sign language. What a comedy!!! Did you ever play the old game of trying to pat your head and rub your tummy at the same time? I am sure you have. This was somewhat like that. They ave teased me about almost buy not quite having to squat in the floor to get what I wanted. I must have had a horrible grimace on my face or one of pure agony and rubbing my poor griping tummy. finally the poor befuddled young girl said "OOO the twoylette du poobleak" meaning the toilet for the public. Rather weakly and with a sickly grin I answered yes yes and hurry. We followed her across the entire building where she silently pointed to the stairway leading downstairs. Ignorance may be bliss but it came very near being accident in this instance. I can ask for the toilette du publique next time, I betcha."
Please note: I have tried to not change the spelling or grammar. Note: she typed this on a typewriter (without the benefit of spell check...LOL). Here are a couple of pictures from the album.
Page 5
"If we learned the names of these places, it did us no good with our French when we took a little trip into Quebec. Faith, J.W., Merry Sue and I gave ourselves a day in the French city of Rouyan, Quebec. Since we no "Parlez vous (much) Francais" and the people there no "parlez" our English we had a hilarious time making our wishes known. The first thing we tried to do was find a place to eat. By the time we had walked ourselves tot he point of near collapse (especially me) we were clamoring for food. But, we had seen nothing that faintly resembled a hamburger stand, which was about our speed. You know I am sorry to say some of my family is shy. And, you would never guess which of them it is Believe me or not my dear husband would much rather starve than ask where he could find a place to eat, or he would drive miles out of the way before letting anyone know he was on the wrong road. I know from experience. Not old talkative me. Once when visiting a dear friend in Connecticut, she put her young daughter and me on the train for New York. We were going to Rockefeller Center Music Hall and she said as long as we had a tongue in our head and could talk we could go anywhere, we did and I have never forgotten this bit of advice.
So to J.W's embarrasment and pleas not to do it, showing my ignorance, I crossed the street and accosted two policemen, to ask where we should go. Rather I thought I asked them. I certainly talked long enough. Well, my poor knowledge of French id me no good and their knowledge of English not much better, so we went round and round for a few minutes. One of them finally decided to let me know he spoke a little more English than I did French, after I made him understand I was hungry by sign language which is a wonderful thing. I must have resembled a circus contortionist from all I hear. He told me there was "a small, clean, good food" and pointed to a little cafe or lunch room half a block from where we stood. Hooray!!! The other policeman kept time by nodding his head with a grin on his face, seemed to be in full agreement and understanding of all that was said. Phooey on the Frenchmen!!!
The sign on the restaurant said "Chez Jeanette". We entered and here the fun really started. A very pretty, smiling young French waitress came to take our orders and also J.W.'s eye (darn the man). Merry Sue is a good French scholar. In fact she is better than good, third in her class. However, as the accents of people from all over the United States differ, so do the accents of the true French differ from the French taught and spoken in High Schools. With much sign language, pointing to the menu, and, the help of a few greatly amused customers we finally made our wishes known. All we wanted was a hamburger and french fries for all, and our drinks. Never have I eaten such good hamburgers. Faith and I knew to say cafe' for coffee and tell her it was "bon" for good. We learned that french fries were frites (freets). She understood we wanted apple pie a la mode, this must be a universal order and the same in any language. Before we go again I betcha I can order a meal in French, even to the lowly hamburger.
After lunch we shopped around for souvenirs but nothing was attractive and unusual enough to spend our money for so J.W. bought more cards to mail to his many friends back home. He mailed about 175 during the time we were away. By this time all of us were in great need, and in one particular case (mine)a rushing need to find a relief station or to be more explicit the restroom. In a large department store our search began. Again an understanding of the language would have been a big help but, we once again had to revert to sign language. What a comedy!!! Did you ever play the old game of trying to pat your head and rub your tummy at the same time? I am sure you have. This was somewhat like that. They ave teased me about almost buy not quite having to squat in the floor to get what I wanted. I must have had a horrible grimace on my face or one of pure agony and rubbing my poor griping tummy. finally the poor befuddled young girl said "OOO the twoylette du poobleak" meaning the toilet for the public. Rather weakly and with a sickly grin I answered yes yes and hurry. We followed her across the entire building where she silently pointed to the stairway leading downstairs. Ignorance may be bliss but it came very near being accident in this instance. I can ask for the toilette du publique next time, I betcha."
Please note: I have tried to not change the spelling or grammar. Note: she typed this on a typewriter (without the benefit of spell check...LOL). Here are a couple of pictures from the album.
2 comments:
Jesse, Thanks so much for doing this. I remember all the good times we had when they came up to visit us that summer in the frozen North as Grandpa liked to call it.
No worries. It is quite a lot of fun and quite the 'eye-opener'. I was much to young to really remember all of this or even Grandma and Grandpa. Gives me a chance to 'get to know them'. Thanks. js
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