School Shopping-In French

Today the kids and I spent the greater part of our day shopping for school supplies, in the all French speaking city of Lovain-la-Neuve, 20 km south of here.  I didn't know where to buy supplies, so I asked the director of the school, and he recommended a store called Ciaco. I ignorantly thought this would be great because the signs for the supplies would match up to what I needed on my list.  I would soon find out that none of the store assistants spoke English  It would make for an interesting and slightly frustrating day.

The 3 class lists of supplies were in French, of course, so I spent a few hours translating them with the help of my crutch, Google translate.  There were items I could easily guess what they were like l'calculatrice and l'compass or whose translation was easily converted by google, like des marqueurs suligneurs <(flo)>  (highlighters-fluorescent).  Others were less comprehensible like on Shea's list- 10 chemises transparentes.  Google translated them to be 10 transparent shirts....What?  (They really are sheet protectors.) Or une latte translated to be a strip. It's tape.

The kids and I started our "treasure hunt" early so we would have energy to complete the almost impossible.  We searched for what we thought were the easy items first.  The pens they use here aren't like the pens in America, or at least the ones I have purchased before.  A person buys a pen and then extra ink to refill in the pen.  Most pencils are like mechanical pencil, which are easy enough.  On the items I got stumped on I would go wait in line to "talk" to an associate.

The first time I tried to get help, I found out that no store associate spoke Englsih and nice man behind me spoke English and helped me talk to the store associate. The rest of the time my talking consisted of me pointing at my supply sheet and them walking me to the item.  After about the fifth time I could feel their annoyance.  I once asked a boy next to me where something was by using my same pointing method.  He was Logan's age and spoke English to me.  I asked him how he knew English and he told me his mother was American. His name is James.

Later that day, and still in the same store, I would meet James' mom Susan. I asked her where something was and she helped me translate items that where still incomprehensible from Googles' translation.  We talked for awhile and exchanged phone numbers.  She said to call her whenever I needed help or if I wanted to go get a coffee.  Today I am grateful for Susan and James.

Four hours and over 300 Euro later, we FINALLY left Ciaco...totally burnt out.

©ColleenFisher