From my journal: Bordeaux, June 29, 2026
Today was the first day of French class in Bordeaux!
Class started at 9:00 am, but for the first day, we had to be there by 8:30. Overly nervous, I got up at 6:30, got ready and took the #1 bus to the school. The bus takes about 20 minutes to get to the school from my apartment. Well, it stops about six blocks from the school. Luckily, I did a test run the night before so I could find the school today.
On the ride to the school, here’s what I didn’t see: strip malls; fast food places; large SUVs (at least not that many), or boarded-up buildings. Pedestrians and cyclists were everywhere. I saw people dressed in their work clothes cycling down the street with a child or two on the back on the way to school.
Bordeaux is a striking city. It’s located next to the Garonne River in southwestern France and is the capital of the Nouvelle-Aquitaine region. It is teeming with history, dramatic monuments, culture, art, music and, of course, lots of wine. I was afraid I would be delayed because once I got off the bus, I couldn’t get 10 feet (sorry, 3 meters) without stopping to take a picture of something that caught my eye.
The school is located in the city center of Bordeaux, off a side street called, a little confusingly, rue Abbé de l’Épée, and has nothing to do with a sword or an abbey. It’s named after an 18th-century priest who founded the first public school for the deaf, in Paris. His students couldn’t hear, but at least they eventually understood. I hope I can say the same for myself.
Okay, after all these months, I finally made it! The school is in an unimposing building, but streaming with students from all different nationalities, all ages, very diverse. The school is three stories of mostly classrooms and pretty utilitarian on the inside in sharp contrast to the rest of the city.
The canicule (heat wave) had started and the building was just shy of being uncomfortably warm.
So, my level – I had to take a written placement test months ago by email and no one would tell me what level I would be placed in until I actually showed up at the school. The school decided I belonged in Level B1, so I made my way to the B1 classroom.
I’ll be honest. It was an uncomfortable day and a little discouraging. The teacher, a young, very enthusiastic woman, spoke in French all 4 hours. That’s the most time I’ve listened to uninterrupted French.
I expected that, but it felt like the class was a little too advanced. I couldn’t understand most of what she was saying except for the times she would punctuate a long stream of French with, “Ça marche ?” directed to the class in general.
We sat at long tables arranged in a U-shape around the edges of the room so we all constantly faced each other. Altogether there were about 15 students in class. I was the oldest, I think, and the only American. I didn’t understand her jokes. The woman next to me kept answering all the questions when the teacher broke the class down into groups of 4. I didn’t feel comfortable volunteering.
The class didn’t feel like a good fit. It was definitely not “ça marche” for me. Have I made a mistake coming here?
I’m starting to understand that there is a big gap between the grammar I know, my ability to read and write and my ability to speak and understand spoken French. It was not a surprise that the teacher only spoke French, but it was a little much.
We ended right at 1:00 pm, excuse me, we ended right at 13 h. Have I ever been in the military? Nope. Guess I’m going to become intimately familiar with the 24-hour clock. At exactly 1:03 (13h03), I was in the office of the student advisor, asking them to change my level. Lower it. They agreed with a bit of a shrug, and starting tomorrow, I’m going into a different class.
A2.2 is my new level. Is that a real level? Maybe they made it up for me?
I wanted more review of the grammar, especially the tenses. And shouldn’t I be able to understand more spoken French by now?
Tomorrow, I will also bring a snack and water. Four hours of class, one 20-minute break and the vending machine had nothing but junk food.
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