Tuesday, January 27, 2009
Sunday, January 25, 2009
Wait...I speak French?
So, opposed to Beijing, everyone here speaks English. Including my homestay hosts (parents?) I have no clue what to call them. Anyway:
My French is mainly practiced around the dinner table. Which is both good and bad. Good, because that's the one part of the day where it is required for me to think quick on my feet. Bad, because it makes me think quickly on my feet.
Tonight, during dinner, there was talk about family relations (Madame's niece is here for 10 days?). I think, and I mean I think, that Monsieur and Madame are 4th cousins or something. I mean, my French is pretty good, but I'm really hoping I missed something in the convo whilst trying to avoid the pellets that were in the pheasant.
(Madame's brother killed a whole bunch of them 2 weekends ago? That was a fun conversation...me getting all confused about pheasants in Paris and thinking they were pigeons. Right.)
But whilst sitting around the dinner table, I realized how much I understand, but how much more I want to be able to respond. Dinner table conversation is very much dependent on quick wit. And while I can understand the conversation in real-time French (that is to say, I don't need to translate their French into English), my first responses are always in English. And by the time I can answer in French, I am already 30 seconds late.
Bummer.
Anyway, it will only get better (it better only get better) and at least I haven't done anything really socially unacceptable. Yet.
My French is mainly practiced around the dinner table. Which is both good and bad. Good, because that's the one part of the day where it is required for me to think quick on my feet. Bad, because it makes me think quickly on my feet.
Tonight, during dinner, there was talk about family relations (Madame's niece is here for 10 days?). I think, and I mean I think, that Monsieur and Madame are 4th cousins or something. I mean, my French is pretty good, but I'm really hoping I missed something in the convo whilst trying to avoid the pellets that were in the pheasant.
(Madame's brother killed a whole bunch of them 2 weekends ago? That was a fun conversation...me getting all confused about pheasants in Paris and thinking they were pigeons. Right.)
But whilst sitting around the dinner table, I realized how much I understand, but how much more I want to be able to respond. Dinner table conversation is very much dependent on quick wit. And while I can understand the conversation in real-time French (that is to say, I don't need to translate their French into English), my first responses are always in English. And by the time I can answer in French, I am already 30 seconds late.
Bummer.
Anyway, it will only get better (it better only get better) and at least I haven't done anything really socially unacceptable. Yet.
Wednesday, January 21, 2009
Bu Fucking Hao.
Bonjour à tous
La grève vient d'être votée à Paris VII mais pas par tous les professeurs. Vous devez aller à votre premier cours cette semaine et le professeur vous indiquera s'il fait grève ou non. Je vous demande de tous venir me voir avant lundi (je viens à Versailles également vendredi) et de choisir au moins un troisième cours SBC par mesure de précaution . Si la grève se prolonge nous ne voulons pas que vous restiez "en vacances"... Pour remplacer les cours de sociologie de Paris VII il y a les cours de l'Institut catholique dans lesquels vous pouvez vous inscrire également.
J'espère que vous ne serez pas trop découragé par cette annonce au début du semestre, et vous assure que nous ferons tout notre possible pour remplacer les cours ou vous orienter vers ceux déjà en place à SBC.
Bonne journée
This greeted me in my inbox today. And because I know that with the exception of like 5 people who read this thing (that I know of) none of you can read French fluently. So, to translate: Paris 7 (my university) is on strike.
Assholes. How self-centered of them!
Yet because not all professors are required to strike, I went to class today in the hopes that mine would not be canceled. The Class? Medieval History (Why not? I mean...I just need the credits...)
Enter, Stage Left:
Michelle, in a room with 4 other very angry looking French kids. All sitting in silence.
After 40 minutes:
Everyone looks around, gets up and leaves. Great.
Bienvenue en France!
As we were leaving, I spoke to another student who said this had never happened to him (a teacher not sending an email, or even sending someone else in his place to announce he wasn't planning on teaching...).
It's like, really now France? Can you not get your act together?!
So, I went back to the SB main office, to speak to the lady who does our schedules, and she said I shouldn't worry about the Chinese class, and that SB is trying to put together another history class for kids in Paris 7 affected by the strike. It'll be on 19th century French history, which in retrospect, will be a bit more useful...
La grève vient d'être votée à Paris VII mais pas par tous les professeurs. Vous devez aller à votre premier cours cette semaine et le professeur vous indiquera s'il fait grève ou non. Je vous demande de tous venir me voir avant lundi (je viens à Versailles également vendredi) et de choisir au moins un troisième cours SBC par mesure de précaution . Si la grève se prolonge nous ne voulons pas que vous restiez "en vacances"... Pour remplacer les cours de sociologie de Paris VII il y a les cours de l'Institut catholique dans lesquels vous pouvez vous inscrire également.
J'espère que vous ne serez pas trop découragé par cette annonce au début du semestre, et vous assure que nous ferons tout notre possible pour remplacer les cours ou vous orienter vers ceux déjà en place à SBC.
Bonne journée
This greeted me in my inbox today. And because I know that with the exception of like 5 people who read this thing (that I know of) none of you can read French fluently. So, to translate: Paris 7 (my university) is on strike.
Assholes. How self-centered of them!
Yet because not all professors are required to strike, I went to class today in the hopes that mine would not be canceled. The Class? Medieval History (Why not? I mean...I just need the credits...)
Enter, Stage Left:
Michelle, in a room with 4 other very angry looking French kids. All sitting in silence.
After 40 minutes:
Everyone looks around, gets up and leaves. Great.
Bienvenue en France!
As we were leaving, I spoke to another student who said this had never happened to him (a teacher not sending an email, or even sending someone else in his place to announce he wasn't planning on teaching...).
It's like, really now France? Can you not get your act together?!
So, I went back to the SB main office, to speak to the lady who does our schedules, and she said I shouldn't worry about the Chinese class, and that SB is trying to put together another history class for kids in Paris 7 affected by the strike. It'll be on 19th century French history, which in retrospect, will be a bit more useful...
Monday, January 19, 2009
I Enjoy Embarassing my Friends in Nice Restaurants
So on Saturday, Sweet Briar took us out to dinner at Restaurant Vagenende. It was truly mediocre - there was a quiche, then chicken, the chocolate cake at the end. The pics will go up in another food related post...but it wasn't really worth it.
Video is attached...
Video is attached...
Sunday, January 18, 2009
Mid-Day Snack
I'll justify the foie gras by saying that I walk alot......and everyday is a good day for foie gras...
yum
Saturday, January 17, 2009
Eww, Michelle, You Eat Those Things?
I found shrimp chips at Monoprix! HOLLERRR!!!So I've been here a week now and things seem to be going well, minus the whole everyone speaks English part.
Classes start this week, so tomorrow I'm going with some other people to do a test run of where classrooms are, etc. It's like being in middle school all over again.
So far I am signed up for 2 history classes and 2 Sweet Briar classes (a writing workshop - glorified grammar class - and a phonetics class - requirement for French majors at MHC). I am also tentatively signed up for a Chinese class, dependent on how my meeting will go on the 26th with some guy in the Chinese department.
Basically, deciding to do Chinese here went something like this (this was all in French, obvi):
Person who helps us with classes: Are you sure you want to take this class?
Me: Yes
Person who helps us with classes: Are you sure you want to take this class?
Me: Yes
Person who helps us with classes: Are you really really really sure you want to take this class?
Me: What do you know, that I don't?
Basically, Chinese classes here are run basically as translations...from Chinese into French. And everyone in the class is Asian and they all want to become translators.
Good thing it takes more than that to scare me off...
Thursday, January 15, 2009
En tant qu'Americanne...
I think I stand out as much as a sore thumb. Apparently, I don't. (It's probably thanks to the banging black/white jacket that I have.)
Basically, every day I have at least 2 people come up to me and ask for directions. The second I open my mouth and say that I don't know (in French of course!) they said, Oh Sorry (in English, of course!).
No surprise.
It's very weird getting used to the differences between Paris and Beijing. When I came back from Beijing, I pretty much got straight back into the swing of things in NJ. The hardest thing was not honking my horn, and waiting for people to exit the store/subway in NYC before I would enter.
In Paris, I have to get used to the same thing (waiting for people to leave the metro before I get into the car, etc) as well as realize that being an American isn't as desirable as it is being one in Beijing. In Beijing, I could use my broken Chinese 'til the cows come home and they shopkeeper would smile and appreciate it.
In France, I use my (slightly better at this point) French and everyone switches into English. Hell, even my homestay "sister" speaks to me in English (though that is for another reason entirely).
It's simply interesting to see the difference between Paris and Beijing. And, at the end of the day, realize that there is no place like NJ...
Basically, every day I have at least 2 people come up to me and ask for directions. The second I open my mouth and say that I don't know (in French of course!) they said, Oh Sorry (in English, of course!).
No surprise.
It's very weird getting used to the differences between Paris and Beijing. When I came back from Beijing, I pretty much got straight back into the swing of things in NJ. The hardest thing was not honking my horn, and waiting for people to exit the store/subway in NYC before I would enter.
In Paris, I have to get used to the same thing (waiting for people to leave the metro before I get into the car, etc) as well as realize that being an American isn't as desirable as it is being one in Beijing. In Beijing, I could use my broken Chinese 'til the cows come home and they shopkeeper would smile and appreciate it.
In France, I use my (slightly better at this point) French and everyone switches into English. Hell, even my homestay "sister" speaks to me in English (though that is for another reason entirely).
It's simply interesting to see the difference between Paris and Beijing. And, at the end of the day, realize that there is no place like NJ...
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