I think that I should preface this post by saying that now that I spend half my day speaking in French, my English has definitely deteriorated… Oh, c’est la vie.

So, language…PST (Pre-Service Training) focuses a lot on language. We have language classes almost every day, anywhere from a 50 minute session to six hours in one very miserable day. When we were in Yaounde at the beginning of stage, we all had our LPI (Language Proficiency Interview) in French, and we have more opportunities through stage to take LPIs again. We’re required to achieve “Intermediate High” by the end of PST for those going to Francophone regions and “Intermediate Mid” for those going to Anglophone Regions. And those who achieve their required level earlier are able to start learning either Fulfulde (the language of the Grand North) or Pidgin English.

Somehow, I managed to score “Intermediate Mid” at my first LPI and then “Advanced low” at my second LPI the day before post announcements. So, half of my language sessions are with the Fulfulde teacher and half are with my French teacher. Learning Fulfulde is really hard. I am just bad at picking up on new languages. Plus, we’re learning Fulfulde in French – No English is allowed in our class. So, it makes it doubly hard, but I guess it’s a good learning experience.

This whole immersion process has been pretty surprising for me. One night, I was reading my Technical Manual for health, a few pages at a time in between getting distracted by my host family and whatnot. I returned to start reading a new page, and I remember being shocked that I just didn’t know what a word meant. Then, I realized that this section had switched from English to French without me even being conscious of it, until I got to the word that I didn’t know.

Also, I started actually thinking in French. For example, I will think of my time in Ghana, and in my memories, people speak in French – even though they were definitely speaking English. It’s so weird how my mind works that, just automatically translating things to French. My first language was Vietnamese, and I don’t remember when it was that I started thinking in English instead of Vietnamese.

Still, for most of us, our French isn’t anywhere near perfect. One of the Agro trainees, Jen, had malaria and was recovering at the hospital. I went over to the table to sign the card that some trainees had made for me. Our training manager, David, was crossing out where someone who was trying to tell her to “Rest well!” had written, in large writing at the front of the card, “Response-toi bien.” I asked why he was crossing out such a well-intentioned phrase, and it turns out that the phrase actually means “Rest in peace.” Oh, goodness.

French class, on the porch of my house in Lable

My host sister and neighbors watching our French class