Wedding Preparations...years in advance

Monday, I had yet another class with my unmotivated but extremely fun Sri Lankan student.
Each time I've met with her (which honestly, is only one month's worth of classes), she's given me a gift as a thanks for the French help.
The first time we met, she taught a friend and me to make Chicken Tandoori as she makes it in her Indian restaurant. Another time, she gave me an embroided tunic top. Yet another time, she took me to dinner at her cousin's Indian restaurant (as mentioned in the previous post), and then, this Monday, she gave me some Sri Lankan wedding jewelry.
She actually, interestingly enough, makes this jewelry. She showed me her kit and her pliers and the various bits and pieces of this and that. She strings them together, pinches them, twists them, knots them into things of beauty. I was having fun watching the jewelry making process, and she said, "You want?"
I replied, "Oh, it's beautiful, but you should keep them and sell them."
"No," she said, "gratuit for you." Free for me.
At her insisting, I took the necklace and started wearing it, thinking that would encourage her, show her how much I liked her gift.
"No, no, no," she said, shaking her head. "Take off. You wear that not on wedding day, people think you weird."
So, I took it off and the necklace is hanging alongside my other jewelry inside my bedroom. I wouldn't, after all, want to look weird...

The Not Quite French Class

Last night, I tutored a Sri Lankan friend of mine in French. She isn't terribly motivated (or rather, isn't motivated at all), so the getting started part of class is always an effort. I tried to plow right into lessons, and she interrupted me with, "I want to be slim girl. Like you."
I nodded, and said, "Well, the best way is to eat more vegetables and less cakes. Now as for your French..."
"I go to doctor this morning." She rolled up her sleeve and showed me the patch of cotton that covered the needle prick. "He take blood to help me be slim girl."
So, we stopped and talked about that for a while. She's getting married in the summer, and suddenly, "being slim girl" is on the top of her list of priorities.
Finally, we started classes. I helped her with her unfinished homework, and then, after ten minutes of that, she said, "Now, time for cadeau."
"Oh," I said, "I'm sorry, but I didn't bring you a gift."
"No, no, no," she said. "I bring you cadeau, but no bag for cadeau." She handed me this beautiful embroidered shirt that she'd bought at the market. I tried it on and oooohed and aaaahed over it for a while, before saying, "So, let's work on today's lesson."
We worked about ten minutes on conjugating the verb etre when she said, "Now, time for juice."
Without waiting for my response, she jumped up, ran to the kitchen, and came back with an overflowing glass of orange juice. "Thanks," I said. "I'll drink this, and we'll keep conjugating, okay?"
"Okay," she said. "But I think we need to shop first. I have no eraser."
I handed her a pencil of mine, complete with eraser, and convinced her that we didn't need to go shopping.
We finally made it through the rest of the lesson, despite her attempts to have a break ("Now, it is time to watch cinema." or "Now, we watch Indian lovers on the television.")
After an hour and a half, we finished, and she kicked off her shoes, laid back on her bed, and said, "That was hour and a half!"
"Class should be two hours," I said, laughing. "You had a break today."
She sat up quickly, an idea coming to her, and said, "My cousin own Indian restaurant in Place de Clichy. We go there for eat." Already convinced of this, she wet down her hair, smeared some makeup on, and grabbed her purse. "We go."
So, we took the bus over to Place de Clichy, and walked into a completely deserted Indian restaurant. My friend told them, "Bring us whatever's in the kitchen," and the proprietor--probably glad to have someone in the restaurant-- stacked the table full of deep friend potatoes and onions, mint teas, coffees, rice, chicken, beef, and a variety of other things. After two hours of extensive eating, the proprietor kept trying to give us desserts and coffees, but we both begged off, saying we couldn't eat anymore.
At 9, we finally left the restaurant and headed home.
I'm starting to wonder, however, if every Monday class with her is going to be like this. Could be interesting.... We shall see.

Accoucher de...what?

Just a quick anecdote from class yesterday...
Yesterday, we were having a conversation class, and one of the phrases we were working with was, "Elle vient d'accoucher d'un bebe" which means, "She just had a baby." Well, the ladies kept giggling and giggling, and I couldn't really think of anything that would be that funny about childbirth.
Finally, I asked them, "What are you laughing about?"
They shook their heads, mumbled, "Nothing."
We continued, talking about birth and babies and such, and they continued laughing.
I stopped again and said, "Really, what's so funny?"
Finally, one of my ladies said, "Accoucher," (to give birth) and they all started laughing again.
So, I said, "Is there something funny about the word 'accoucher'" and even as I said it, they all dissolved into giggles again.
One of my more advanced students who was laughing so hard she was in tears and had the coal from around her eyes running in streaks down her face said, "In Berber, 'accoucher' means..." and then, she started laughing again.
"It means something funny?"
She nodded.
"Like...what?"
She shook her head, and all the ladies started looking around at each other, shrugging.
So, the more advanced student whispered something which I didn't catch. I asked her to repeat it, and again, she said something completely unrecognizable. Asked a third time, she finally started making raspberry noises with her mouth. "Gas," she said. "It means when a person has gas."
And they all started laughing again.
We eventually just had to change the subject and abandon all hopes of discussing childbirth, because they all were laughing like third graders at the word "Accoucher."
While the lesson plan took quite a turn, I'm still glad that they seemed to enjoy themselves...

Tandoori and Nan

So, I've recently learned how to make Tandoori chicken, which is quite the feat for me, since cooking isn't really my forte. I've got spaghetti down, a few different types of pastas, but now, I can add some Tandoori chicken to my répertoire.

The woman who taught me (or rather, us, since I learned alongside a friend of mine in Paris) is a Sri Lankan lady who is currently living in Paris but has dreams of moving to Washington in the U.S. Although she's Sri Lankan, she works in an Indian restaurant in Paris. I start private lessons with her this week (tonight, actually, if all goes well...) The idea is for her to improve her French, but as you can see, this was a fun adventure, so I'm hoping for more cooking lessons in the future.

Vive la cuisine.