Mamie of Ker Sava

People | Life

Mamie of Ker Sava

My boyfriend’s Breton family did not know what they were getting when I walked in their door for the first time. They knew he was dating a Canadian of Sri Lankan origin, but they did not expect what they received. From day one, I would feel very shy and small with my broken french.

The French I spoke brought traumatic memories of being introduced to an advanced class at the age of 12. Of sneaking a peak at answers hidden in my pencil case as I failed miserably to conjugate my verbs. I felt like my mouth was full of marbles and I was sure that they could not understand me any better than understood them.

My upbringing dictated my behavior as I tried to help his grandmother in the kitchen while his parents tended to the dairy farm. My boyfriend had disappeared somewhere and it was just me and Mamie, a cotton haired cherub of an older lady with the sweet somber presence of Betty White. She spoke with a calm tone and was a gentle but deliberate force in the kitchen. I offered to cut the vegetables.

“Asseyez vous”

I didn’t understand what she was asking. I started to dry and put away dishes.

“Asseyez vous, S’il vous plait”

Still oblivious to what grandmere was saying, I started setting the table.

“SIT DOWN!”

The firm command put me in one of the seats, eyes wide, and absolutely embarrassed that I was offending her. I also marveled at her perfect English. A few moments later, to my relief, my boyfriend walked into the kitchen followed closely by his father.

“Did you know, your grandmother can speak English?” I half whispered in his direction.

With a look of surprise, he and his father started conversing with his grandmother pausing long enough to explain to me that I was a guest and she felt uncomfortable with me helping. Soon he was translating on my behalf that I was raised to help and I was not comfortable sitting while Mamie did all the work. A compromise was struck and I set the table while they continued talking. I could understand some of what was said and bothered my boyfriend when I needed clarification.

During the occupation, Mamie had been a young girl. She had English books hidden under a heavy milk jug in the kitchen. In the night they would study English in anticipation of liberation by the English. Had the Germans discovered the books, the whole family would have suffered.

To our surprise, even her son was not aware of this story.

As the years passed and I transitioned from girlfriend to wife, I would experience many French speakers who would speak perfect English while drunk. I learned that the nervousness to speak English eclipsed my fear of speaking French. We all just wanted to hide our imperfections though to make an attempt to speak is considered brave and impressive.

I was not content to communicate through my boyfriend so I returned to the French grammar books and exchanged language lessons with a French teacher. I committed myself wholeheartedly to learning french with a sense of purpose that I had not had while in grade school. We spent two weeks at a time on the farm with his family immersed in the culture and language. Soon, my second language of Sinhalese would become mixed up in my head. Now, l’eau, water, and watura all mean water. Mother, Amma, Maman all mean mother. I knew I had graduated when I started dreaming in French.

Some years later I was back and helping Mamie by setting the table. It was just she and I in the kitchen. As I was clearing away the things on the table, I dropped a glass vase which shattered to a thousand pieces on the tiled floor.

“Putain de merde!” I exclaimed.

The older lady’s cheeks turned pink and she tried to suppress a grin. I could feel my face get warm as I blushed. I bet the last thing she expected from me was the most common of colorful French phrases.

It was just my ill luck that I had switched to cursing in French so as to seem more polite in English-speaking society!

This story was inspired at a virtual writing workshop I attended held by Living Hyphen. If you like my work and want to support it, buy me a cup of coffee.