Yeh, yeh --- not music. So skip this one!!
Life in Louisiana is not complete without a bit of French immersion. I had heard about French tables and decided it was time to try one out. Coincidentally, there was one meeting right after my hair appointment (with Dreu Daigle, Paul's daughter - I'm a name-dropper, Cajun-style).
Here's the drill - you have lunch with strangers who wish to speak only French during this time, although they all speak English, too. We met at the Jefferson St. Pub in downtown Lafayette. Very cool, large, old building, probably a hotel in a former life. We were ten, and I couldn't understand a WORD in the babble around me :(
Politely, one person asked my name. "Je m'appelle Joyce," my HS french replied. "Blah, blah, blah nom de famille," I heard in reply. Huh?? Votre mere? Votre pere? Nom? What nice people, resorting to baby-talk French so that I can understand. "Uhh, Thompson,' I replied. With a knowing nod (was that a sneer?) he said, "Anglais."
Mais, oui --- I did my best and sort of understand the kind gentleman who spent some of his time talking only to me. When I needed to talk, however, in answer to a question or to keep up my end of the conversation, it was back to parle de bebe.
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