Martin Carrot Soup

Last month, in one of my English tutoring sessions with my perfect French children, we were doing vocab exercises from a workbook, when I saw the name Rachel. I told her that that was my sister’s name. She reacted in joy, as she told me that Rachel was one of her favorite names, along with Rebecca (flattered; I surprisingly get quite a few compliments on it here in France. It’s like they have never heard it before!), Nicholas, and Jessica. She obviously goes to a bilingual school, because American names in France are a symbol of lower social standing. Par contre, VERY French names are bourgeois. Par exemple, Marie-Sophie and Pierre-Henri would live in the perfect apartment on Ile St. Louis (highest spit of real estate in the city--in the middle of the Seine right next to the island with Notre Dame). The more names you have, the swankier your social status. The name game conversation ended with Emma’s response that she dislikes the name Martin. She says it reminds her of Carrot Soup. I agree. Martin Carrot Soup. 

The Brass Section

So, during the first week of my internship (at an NGO which builds children’s homes for street children in developing countries), I needed to ask one of my colleagues if he had a paper clip. I knew the French word was some brass instrument, so I asked him for the “trompette.” He gave me an odd look, and was all, “Are you asking me if I play the trumpet?” Um, no. In fact, I just need one of those “trucs” which holds a pile of papers together. “OH, une trombone!” Trumpet, trombone; I knew they were all in the brass section!