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LANGUAGE AND CULTURE

Learning Swedish with celebrities and assassins

Few experiences in life are more leveling than a language class, where people’s previous identities are mysteriously replaced by characters and coping mechanisms worthy of a Swedish crime drama, explains contributor Lola Akinmade.

Learning Swedish with celebrities and assassins
©iStockphoto.com/ mbbirdy; Art-Y

It’s inevitable.

This rite of passage every immigrant to Sweden must pass through.

Whether you shell out tons of money for fancy intensive programs or take it for free with the popular institution that is Swedish for Immigrants (SFI), your key to instantly unlocking sheltered Swedish hearts is finally differentiating and pronouncing – sjå , sjö, sjä, skå, skö, skä – correctly with your lips perfectly pursed.

Left with no choice than to put my jaw muscles to the test, I found myself at the tail end of a bitingly cold winter, sitting in my first ever SFI class.

Pushing aside rumors and horror stories, I was ready to immerse myself fully and objectively. Within a few weeks, the perfect drama quickly began to unfold around me with intriguing characters from all corners of the globe.

“G.I.S… Geographic Information Systems,” I muttered, once trying to explain my past life as a GIS consultant to a fellow student.

He met me with a blank stare. He used to be a medical doctor.

Our past lives meant nothing here. We’d all been thrust into a challenging situation and each of us had subconscious roles to play. As weeks turned into months and one SFI level blended into the next, I began to feel that I wasn’t sharing a classroom with fellow students.

Rather, I had become surrounded by a cast of characters from a nameless work of fiction, each one with a specific modus operandi and an increasingly predictable set of behaviours:

The aggressor bellows in the loudest decibels known to man. Every word spoken by the teacher is punctuated by the aggressor’s own experiences. Yes, the aggressor’s life can’t be compared to yours. My first encounter with an aggressor wasn’t pretty. My 30+ years on earth were verbally chucked aside as being just a child. Yes, the aggressor has seen it all. Yes, the aggressor has been in Sweden the longest of us all. Yet, the aggressor remains in our SFI level.

The gambler is one to watch out for. They literally read the entire dictionary from A to Ö, specifically pulling out complex, difficult to understand, and often tangential words, which they then attempt to piece together in haphazard sentences even teachers can’t decipher. Which means teachers are always asking gamblers “Vad sa du?!” (What did you say?). To successfully beat a gambler at their game, throw in a much simpler word as an alternative, and watch them simmer with fury.

The loyalist continually challenges prepositions. “But in English, it’s written this way!” we scream, oblivious to the fact that we’re already working on an 80-90 percent grammar structure advantage over Latin, Cyrillic, Arabic, and Sino-Tibetan languages. Why must we conform to the last 10-20 percent? I plead guilty to being a loyalist in severe denial. English and German speakers fall under this group, are instantly drawn to each other, and begin to form guerilla resistance subgroups. Oh, and “på” remains our mortal archenemy.

The interrogator knows one Swedish word and knows it well…“Varför?” (Why?) The first few days, this childlike curiosity seems charming, leading us to believe they’re truly interested in learning Swedish despite the bread-sized dictionary sitting in front of them. Within weeks their veil drops, revealing one true trait – laziness. The interrogator is too lazy to reach for the dictionary right in front of them.

The celebrity arrives fashionably late. Who cares about roll calls and protocol? Celebrities saunter in way behind schedule and take their sweet time shedding 7 layers of noise-making clothing while others strain to listen to the Swedish CD being played on the 1980s boombox in the corner. There are true celebrities who arrive late due to previous commitments like actual jobs, and then there are faux celebrities who are usually undercover loyalists with resistance agendas. I often slip into the latter category and often quickly realize resisting is futile. If I want to get an actual job like a true celebrity, I must make “på” my friend.

The police officer drops by once in a while and peeks into various classrooms to see if all is in order before returning to their desk upstairs as the program director. Their stealth phantom-like classroom patrols usually catch us all off guard, and we collectively slip into silent assassin mode described below.

The silent assassin never says a word in class. They usually return a dubious smile when asked a question or greeted, but no actual words are uttered. Yet, the great mystery remains that these assassins consistently churn out the highest scores on various random tests we’re given. Over time, teachers learn to skip them when asking questions in class because the assassin does what he or she does best….give the silent treatment.

The double-agent will never divulge or admit to any semblance of Swedish knowledge. Their mantra remains “Jag vet inte” (I don’t know) even when asked their names. They shake their heads, lower their eyes, immediately panic when pointed to and stick to their grounds of knowing absolutely nothing. Yet once class is over, they rush off to catch the bus to their Swedish-speaking job…

Watching the crew each day adds a heightened sense of drama to an otherwise boring atmosphere as we live out each Swedish lesson like a script.

I often wonder if the gambler would meet me in a back alley for daring to challenge their dictionary-like prowess or if the double agent will strike with fluent Swedish when we meet in town?

And would our resistance group of loyalists finally make ground or are we fighting a losing battle? Will the interrogator finally surprise us all by cracking open their dictionary for the very first time?

I’m not so sure, but I’ll definitely be back in class next time to find out.

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LANGUAGE AND CULTURE

Le Havre rules: How to talk about French towns beginning with Le, La or Les

If you're into car racing, French politics or visits to seaside resorts you are likely at some point to need to talk about French towns with a 'Le' in the title. But how you talk about these places involves a slightly unexpected French grammar rule. Here's how it works.

An old WW2 photo taken in the French port town of Le Havre.
An old WW2 photo taken in the French port town of Le Havre. It can be difficult to know what prepositions to use for places like this - so we have explained it for you. (Photo by AFP)

If you’re listening to French chat about any of those topics, at some point you’re likely to hear the names of Mans, Havre and Touquet bandied about.

And this is because French towns that have a ‘Le’ ‘La’ or ‘Les’ in the title lose them when you begin constructing sentences. 

As a general rule, French town, commune and city names do not carry a gender. 

So if you wanted to describe Paris as beautiful, you could write: Paris est belle or Paris est beau. It doesn’t matter what adjectival agreement you use. 

For most towns and cities, you would use à to evoke movement to the place or explain that you are already there, and de to explain that you come from/are coming from that location:

Je vais à Marseille – I am going to Marseille

Je suis à Marseille – I am in Marseille 

Je viens de Marseille – I come from Marseille 

But a select few settlements in France do carry a ‘Le’, a ‘La’ or a ‘Les’ as part of their name. 

In this case the preposition disappears when you begin formulating most sentences, and you structure the sentence as you would any other phrase with a ‘le’, ‘la’ or ‘les’ in it.

Masculine

Le is the most common preposition for two names (probably something to do with the patriarchy) with Le Havre, La Mans, Le Touquet and the town of Le Tampon on the French overseas territory of La Réunion (more on that later)

A good example of this is Le Havre, a city in northern France where former Prime Minister, Edouard Philippe, who is tipped to one day run for the French presidency, serves as mayor. 

Edouard Philippe’s twitter profile describes him as the ‘Maire du Havre’, using a masculine preposition

Here we can see that his location is Le Havre, and his Twitter handle is Philippe_LH (for Le Havre) but when he comes to describe his job the Le disappears.

Because Le Havre is masculine, he describes himself as the Maire du Havre rather than the Maire de Havre (Anne Hidalgo, for example would describe herself as the Maire de Paris). 

For place names with ‘Le’ in front of them, you should use prepositions like this:

Ja vais au Touquet – I am going to Le Touquet

Je suis au Touquet – I am in Le Touquet 

Je viens du Touquet – I am from Le Touquet 

Je parle du Touquet – I am talking about Le Touquet

Le Traité du Touquet – the Le Touquet Treaty

Feminine

Some towns carry ‘La’ as part of their name. La Rochelle, the scenic town on the west coast of France known for its great seafood and rugby team, is one such example.

In French ‘à la‘ or ‘de la‘ is allowed, while ‘à le‘ becomes au and ‘de le’ becomes du. So for ‘feminine’ towns such as this, you should use the following prepositions:

Je vais à La Rochelle – I am going to La Rochelle

Je viens de La Rochelle – I am coming from La Rochelle 

Plural

And some places have ‘Les’ in front of their name, like Les Lilas, a commune in the suburbs of Paris. The name of this commune literally translates as ‘The Lilacs’ and was made famous by Serge Gainsbourg’s song Le Poinçonneur des Lilas, about a ticket puncher at the Metro station there. 

When talking about a place with ‘Les’ as part of the name, you must use a plural preposition like so:

Je suis le poinçonneur des Lilas – I am the ticket puncher of Lilas 

Je vais aux Lilas – I am going to Les Lilas

Il est né aux Lilas – He was born in Les Lilas  

Islands 

Islands follow more complicated rules. 

If you are talking about going to one island in particular, you would use à or en. This has nothing to do with gender and is entirely randomised. For example:

Je vais à La Réunion – I am going to La Réunion 

Je vais en Corse – I am going to Corsica 

Generally speaking, when talking about one of the en islands, you would use the following structure to suggest movement from the place: 

Je viens de Corse – I am coming from Corsica 

For the à Islands, you would say:

Je viens de La Réunion – I am coming from La Réunion 

When talking about territories composed of multiple islands, you should use aux.

Je vais aux Maldives – I am going to the Maldives. 

No preposition needed 

There are some phrases in French which don’t require any a preposition at all. This doesn’t change when dealing with ‘Le’ places, such as Le Mans – which is famous for its car-racing track and Motorcycle Grand Prix. Phrases that don’t need a preposition include: 

Je visite Le Mans – I am visiting Le Mans

J’aime Le Mans – I like Le Mans

But for a preposition phrase, the town becomes simply Mans, as in Je vais au Mans.

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