Improvising to Learn

Last week I was getting a drink in a bar with a friend (like you do on Wednesday evening when you're in Europe) when an improvisation group popped out of the ether. They asked for donations of theme ideas from every patron in the bar before introducing themselves as the improv class from a local university and informing us that they would be in charge of entertainment for the next hour or so. They were very funny; they succeeded even in entertaining me, a non-native French speaker. This is partially because they were relying heavily on facial expressions and gestures to communicate, but also because they would announce the theme -- usually a combination of an event or situation and an adjective not usually associated with that situation -- before the action commenced, so that I went into the scene expecting a certain set of vocabulary. The theme for one scene, for example, was a college party at an ice-skating rink that was also a zoo. Once they said that (in relatively simple phrases) I had context for interpreting their conversations. I could recognize the social insecurities they made funny by exaggerating them into the characteristics of animals.

In real life, it's not so easy. People rarely announce in a loud voice the next subject they wish to discuss. There is sometimes that one person ready to state the obvious -- and for that I am grateful -- as in, "My, it looks like the fountain has flooded. Look at the water running all over the place!" Then I've got the word for "fountain" and which verb is used to express water in the act of spreading over a flat surface. (These statements are even more helpful when they have to do with people or social states. I can see when I'm in danger of getting my shoes wet, but I have a harder time knowing why a friend is upset to see that a party is going on until she tells me later that no one invited her.) Oftentimes I can only find out the correct verb for "to spread" in the fountain situation by playing the confused American and asking, "Is all that water being propagated from the fountain?" Usually some kind soul will patiently explain that I've used the wrong word. That situation has come up so many times at this point that it's stopped bothering me; if I jump in without being afraid of making a mistake I get to learn the correct word, and most people understand it's hard to learn a second language anyway. Plus, if they can give me the right word that means they knew what I meant, which is, after all, the primary use of language. My misuse may even cause them to smile.