The Great Debate

I’ve written before about how different my French school experience is compared to any other school experience I’ve had. This week, class on Thursday was another example of that.

My current teacher is Sylvie. I like everything about Sylvie. I think all the students do. She’s a doll! She’s Sicilian, but has lived in Nice all her life. Sylvie speaks Italian, French, and English. And she teaches Italian, French, and English. I’m guessing that she’s thirty something.

One of the first things I noticed about Sylvie is that she has such a genuine, authentic interest in her students. She’s inquisitive. She really takes the time to learn about our interests, our families, our lives, and our countries. She’s cute, fun, and very animated. That’s my very favorite thing about Sylvie. She really expresses herself. When we make a mistake that she’s taught us NOT to make, she slaps the table with her hand, glares at us, rolls her eyes, and says, “Aie, aie, aie,” or “BAR- BIE,” or “What did you just say? “ (in French), or something else that’s apropos for the situation.

This week, Sylvie taught us about the “Subjonctif Mood.” It’s a mood that the French language uses to express personal emotions, uncertainty about things, and hypothetical situations. It deals with things other than reality. (There’s actually a whole lot more to it than that, but, believe me, you don’t want me to get into it.) Suffice it to say that, during the break on Wednesday, some of my co-students and I wrote nasty things on the board about the Subjonctif.

On Thursday, Sylvie had us do an exercise that I call “The Great Debate.” She set the stage for a hypothetical situation in which she was the mayor of Nice, and had put forth a proposal to create a nudist beach. Our job was to argue for or against the nudist beach.

However, there’s a twist:

We weren’t ourselves. Instead, she gave all seven of us new identities.

Javier is a mid 30-ish Spaniard. In real life, he’s a security guard. He has a solid build, a warm smile, and bluish eyes. His laugh is hardy. His new identity was that of a nudist.

Diana is a 22-year-old Swedish girl. Earlier in the week, Sylvie had asked her to create a sentence using the phrase “I hope … “ (which does not use the Subjonctif). Her sentence was, “I hope I find a nice French man.” So, Sylvie assigned her the identity of a young desperate woman looking for a man.

Lucia is a Mexican woman who is married to a French man. She has lived in Nice for a year and a half, and speaks well, but doesn’t know much grammar. She’s in her twenties, and she’s vibrant and fun. We’ve all been advising her to stop smoking. Her new identity was that of a priest.

Sarah is a tall, blonde Swede who exudes confidence. She has a boyfriend, and really contemplates what she wants out of life. She’s probably not yet 20. She played the role of a feminist.

Fiona is a 28-year-old Vietnamese woman who lives in Germany. Her boyfriend is Chinese. She speaks Vietnamese, German, English, Chinese, and French. She’s tiny and vivacious. Her new identity was that of a 70-year old woman with very modern ideas.

Mustafa is a Turkish guy in his forties. He’s conservative and proper. He has a wife and two kids. In one of our discussions, he revealed that he had a bit of male jealousy when it comes to his wife, and he believes in traditional male/female roles. In real life, he’s a police officer. He played the role of pervert and voyeur.

Lastly, I played the role of a very rich business woman with a multi-million dollar mansion on the very beach that would become the nudist beach were the proposal to pass.

Now just imagine: Seven French students from six different countries, ranging in age from 18 – 51. We all speak different primary languages, have different accents, and different backgrounds. Not one of us is fluent in French; yet, we’re going to debate the issue of a nudist beach in Nice … in French! I find that incredible … and incredibly fun.

And so begins the debate:

The pro team (nudist, pervert/voyeur, desperate woman, and elderly modern woman) sat on one side of the room. The con team (priest, feminist, and rich woman with the house) sat on the other.

Fiona (the Vietnamese-German-Chinese-English-French modern elderly woman) immediately reached over to my cart and grabbed my hat. That day, it was a big, wide-brimmed sun hat with a huge flower at the center back. It was perfect for the occasion. She put it on her head, cocked her head to the side, and started telling us how she thought the nudist beach was a great idea. It was time for something progressive in this city where everything is so outdated.

Sarah (the feminist) disagreed, saying that it would be demeaning for women.

Diana (the young desperate woman) said that it could be good for women, especially her. She could see the goods before choosing her man!

I said that, as a rich woman with the house on the beach, I feared that having nudists that close to my property could be uncomfortable. I preferred privacy.

Javier (the nudist) said that the beach would be good for the tourist industry. It would attract visitors and increase the economy in the face of the economic crisis.

At that, I piped up and hypothesized that Javier might be on to something: If the nudist beach DID attract tourists … and they came to MY beach … and my property value increased … I could make a lot of money if the proposal passed! I could open a café at my mansion for the nudists! My entrepreneurial spirit took over.

And with that, I stood up, walked to the other side of the room (the pro side), and sat next to my new friend, the elderly woman with modern ideas. I took her hat and put it on my head. We sat there with our arms around each other’s shoulders.

The feminist then said that the beach would attract perverts.

The pervert/voyeur, Mustafa, had put on a pair of very dark sunglasses. He sat there quietly. Slowly, he lowered the glasses just enough to glance over the top rim. “I don’t go out into open places like nudist beaches,” he claimed in a slow, steady, creepy voice. “I stay hidden.” And he replaced his dark glasses.

Lucia the Mexican priest had borrowed my white high-necked workout jacket (which I had in my bag). (Funny how I seem to have all the props when these things happen!) She sat there with her hands folded in a prayer position. Suddenly, she rose, raised her hands to the sky, turned her head upward, and shouted in a very preachy manner, “Lord, please forgive them. They know not what they are saying!” She went on to argue about how unholy and sinful the proposal was, making the sign of a cross with her finger touching her forehead, then each shoulder, then her chest before sitting again.

The desperate Swedish woman responded that there was nothing unholy about wanting to find a man.

But the feminist claimed that finding a man on a nudist beach would ruin the mystery of the naked body if she saw it upon meeting her man. And she said that a nudist man would choose a woman based solely on her naked body.

Then, the nudist Spaniard spoke up, saying that nudists don’t look at the naked body. They care about what’s inside. He said that he would only want to come to the nudist beach to eat at my café.

The Vietnamese, etc. modern woman said that it made no difference how people chose their mates. She said it was a shame that people were such prudes.

The feminist replied that it really is different for women.

At which point the priest rose again, praying for our souls, and saying that God saw all people equally. He proposed that he could conceive of the nude beach if we all promised to go to church every week to confess our sins.

I said that I was not Catholic and that Fiona was Buddhist. “How about naked yoga on the nudist beach?” I offered. “That’s a form of religion, Mr. Priest. You can join us!”

Then the nudist proposed that we put up a wall on the beach to separate males and females. The pervert/voyeur liked that. But the desperate woman didn’t.

The feminist said that she could be okay with the nudist beach if there were a gender wall.

We settled on consenting to have a prayer session on the beach every day. And the priest was willing to go along with that.

Finally, teacher Sylvie mediated the debate and decided that the proposal would pass.

Remember, this was all HYPOTHETICAL (Subjonctif)! Don’t expect a nudist beach in Nice any time soon. Actually, partial nudity and toplessness is quite common on the beaches here already.

I don’t know about you, but I find it absolutely amazing that we were all able to participate as we did. Understand that, as students, it’s sometimes difficult to understand each other. We make a lot of mistakes, and we have different accents. But despite our differences, we communicate quite well.

At the end of it all, I collected my props, packed up my cart, and headed out with the others, still laughing about all the fun we had.

I love French school!