Ted Rooney with two of his Treehouse friends, in 1999.
Recently I was amused to read that some leading
federal politicians were taking some French language courses in Quebec.
Well, I did the same thing, when I was 14 years old — more than
60 years ago. My parents came from Scotland and settled in the English
Montreal neighbourhood of Westmount. In those days, you could live
and attend school in Montreal and hardly ever need to speak French.
But Dad decided that I must learn to speak French if I expected to
live in Quebec.
He arranged to place me with a French family for the summer months
of 1942 in the heart of French-speaking Quebec. Since my father worked
for the CPR, I got a free trip in the baggage car from Montreal to
Quebec City. From the station, I was to cross town on a city bus to
make connections with the Baie St. Paul Greyhound bus to Port Alfred.
Hence, I got on the city transit and in my limited French said, “Combien?”
The city bus driver said “Cinq cent.” Now, according to
my understanding, cinq cent meant “500.” The driver could
see the surprise on my face. I looked at him and said, “Cinq
cent or cinq sous?” The driver said, “Oui, oui, cinq sous.”
So I paid the driver and carried on my bag. I had my first Quebec
French lesson; they have local expressions like we do in English.
The Baie St. Paul bus ride took 10 hours in those days as it stopped
with the mail in many villages along the way. I arrived at Port Alfred
at 7:00 p.m. There was nobody there to greet me, so I took out the
address book, showed it to the bus terminal clerk, and was directed
to the Bouchard home. I knocked on the door and was welcomed by a
dozen friendly faces. There were nine children, and I was the tenth
— but the oldest was working in the bush, so I was given his
bedroom. That first night we sat around in a circle and I spoke in
my halting French. Around 8:00 p.m. I became very hungry. I looked
for the expression in my French-English dictionary and blurted out,
“J’ai faim.” Mrs. Bouchard jumped up and apologized,
as she thought I ate at the bus depot. Her teenagers set the table
for me and I had my first meal.
My father had also arranged a job for me at the local sawmill through
his contacts. When I reported for work, the manager put me among three
buzz saws. When they started for the 10-hour shift, I couldn’t
hear what any worker was saying. I felt I could not learn the language
in this setting and resigned. Then I got a job in a shoe store to
handle all the English-speaking pilots from the Bagotville RCAF station.
When the customers entered the store, they were startled and pleased
when they were addressed in perfect English. “How come you can
speak English up here?” they all asked. I said I just picked
up the language.
However, I had the most fun at the local cinema. It featured movies
from France and Hollywood. All the teenagers would pay for my movie
ticket for American films, and then sit me in the middle where I acted
as interpreter.
After about four weeks of immersion, I woke up one day “thinking
in French.” My brain seemed to “switch over ” and
suddenly I was speaking in French and had to contemplate for a moment
to say anything in English. When I finally returned to Westmount,
my parents would laugh when I forgot an English phrase.
I also learned by living with the Bouchard family that the folks of
Port Alfred are lovely people. Their houses were very clean and neat,
they were hard workers, very intelligent and devout churchgoers. Although
the Bouchards had many children, the kids were all happy, strong and
healthy.
To this day, “Je parle français comme un ‘tête
carré.’”
Ted Rooney, L BA 50, is an educational children’s TV show
producer in Waterloo, Ontario, and was the creator and producer of
The Treehouse, a children’s program that ran from 1972 to 1990.
