Sitting in the library trying to do some translating. Two problems:
1. “she made a low yarking sound.” Roughly five sixths of that is great. “yarking”: form of “yerk.” Well why didn’t you just say so??
2. My computer (which graciously helps me uncover mysterious like the above mentioned) will redirect me 1,804,260 seconds. That’s 20.8826388888888 days.
Just had the equivalent of mid terms. Lots of tests in fewer days. No longer have any idea how to gage grading outcomes in this country since I did better on my Version translation that my Theme translation. Guess I just knew the correct 1/2000th of the French language and how to perfectly form it. That definitely went better than the grammar test today. Yikes. Hopefully it went ok although I have to admit, I was unable to memorize his 36 pages of select French verbs and the prepositions that come (or don’t) after them in order to determine their meaning. A fair amount of the time ( the naïve French student noted optimistically) it seems like one can just do the horrible Anglicism habit and say “think of”? why that must just be the prepostion 'de'. However...yeah. But no.
So the newest cultural adventure(Side note – How long until I can stop considering it a cultural adventure and start pretending that I actually know what’s going on? End note.)is being in a video for some girls’ English class project. They had to find an Anglophone and interview them and find someone interesting that would lend itself to a 10 minute video (but 15 minutes of recording in order to be edited. Intense. Wait for the outtakes). They’re very nice and pretty hilarious and some with which I should make a painfully blatant effort to become friends. Their level of English is not very high because they’re science nerds and are basically ordered to do that by the European Union or something (the learning English – not the video- also we shall debate the complete injustness of this at a later date). We were thinking about things to do and I said I liked sports so they went off that and then they asked if there were any “hooligans” in sports in the US. I said “why yes, why yes there are.” So then we talked about sports rivalries and I said "have I got a rivalry for you" so they’re going to interview me about the Red Sox v. Yankees. When I told them the name it went like this– “quoi? Les chaussettes rouges?” Well when you say it like that it sounds silly. I’m going to wear my heinous, I mean awesome, American flag shirt that I bought for an occasion like this. And luckily I brought my Maine flag. This is going to be a most excellent cultural exchange.
Alright. Too much library. When did it get dark out?Love and Kisses.
Wednesday, November 19, 2008
Friday, November 14, 2008
bound to happen but [inspiring showtune of choice here]
Been one of those weeks. Those. And it wasn’t even 5 days long.
Monday: we got our first graded assignment for Theme back. It’s the translation from French to English class. So basically Anglophones should own it. I got an 11 out of 20. Eff that shiz. To explain the French grading system, essays, all assigments, life is graded between 0 and 20. But 20 is this elusive, unattainable goal. Some saying goes something like “20 is for God, 19 for the angels…etc etc. Real people start clocking in around 15 or 16. However, for those of us raised on 100% point scales, it’s hard to beat the “10/20 doesn’t equal 50%” out of us. On the bright side, the prof said (not in English) “you actually did pretty well. A lot of Anglophones don’t put any thought into it and just assume they’ll do well.” Huzzah for small victories. Although there were a number of translating discrepancies that a friend (also an Anglophone) and I became slightly miffed about. In response, our prof replied “well I asked my Anglophone friend about that…” Lady, can we ask your other 99 Anglophone friends please so we can receive 96 other, different responses?” People hate learning our language because there are so many ways to say things!! I certainly respect professors but being denied in my own language when we were being marked off for not speaking British English circa 1908 was kind of frustrating.
Then we had Tuesday off.
Wednesday, yesterday. Rumor on the street is the French government will give me a check for studying their language in their country. And by me, I mean my parents, of course. That’s good news so I went and got the paper and there was a little confusion because of Clark being the middle man in payment to my lodging etc but we got it all sorted I explained it all in French since we are in France and all. And it ended up being a little vague but the woman gave me the papers and said “Ok go home and just give this to your host residence, your French seems good enough, that should be a problem.” Reprise that Huzzah? “good enough” in this country means that the given person would be thrown a parade in any other land. Where’s my key to the city?
Later, I had to do more, far less, official things. But for Goodness Effing Sake. I could not put a sentence together, let alone understand what the girl was saying to me. I was trying to be a good sport and we just both acknowledged that our conversation/my verbal diarrhea was unfortunate for all involved. So, whatever, I’m thick skinned, but as soon as I left the office this other younger guy started laughing. For the benefit of the doubt, he was probably just laughing at the situation. Other the other hand, maybe he was just a prick.
The options were as follows: punch him in the face or go home and cry like a 3 year old and call my mother. Despite the longing for the former, it would have been unjust to take out 2 and a quarter months of frustration on this boy’s nose. Thank you to my mother and the Lewiston School System for allowing my 18 minutes of whine with that cheese.
Let’s just say this day didn’t light the cheerfulness tree on fire either.
So I guess this is the wall that one hits when your body and your brain and every sane sentiment in you says “get me the hell out of here.” But 73 days in is a pretty quality run. Besides, remember that other roughly 180 that need to pass?? Then the gods of French said “and they shall be the most excellent.”
Speaking of that, got to write God’s horoscope in class today (Work: Weigh well future decisions. You no longer have the leader of free world wrapped around your finger.) Great exercise in the imperative tense.
Sorry for the downer. Tomorrow, to be sure, I’ll go careening perilously over something or be impaled by a rogue baguette. And you’ll be the first to know…
Monday: we got our first graded assignment for Theme back. It’s the translation from French to English class. So basically Anglophones should own it. I got an 11 out of 20. Eff that shiz. To explain the French grading system, essays, all assigments, life is graded between 0 and 20. But 20 is this elusive, unattainable goal. Some saying goes something like “20 is for God, 19 for the angels…etc etc. Real people start clocking in around 15 or 16. However, for those of us raised on 100% point scales, it’s hard to beat the “10/20 doesn’t equal 50%” out of us. On the bright side, the prof said (not in English) “you actually did pretty well. A lot of Anglophones don’t put any thought into it and just assume they’ll do well.” Huzzah for small victories. Although there were a number of translating discrepancies that a friend (also an Anglophone) and I became slightly miffed about. In response, our prof replied “well I asked my Anglophone friend about that…” Lady, can we ask your other 99 Anglophone friends please so we can receive 96 other, different responses?” People hate learning our language because there are so many ways to say things!! I certainly respect professors but being denied in my own language when we were being marked off for not speaking British English circa 1908 was kind of frustrating.
Then we had Tuesday off.
Wednesday, yesterday. Rumor on the street is the French government will give me a check for studying their language in their country. And by me, I mean my parents, of course. That’s good news so I went and got the paper and there was a little confusion because of Clark being the middle man in payment to my lodging etc but we got it all sorted I explained it all in French since we are in France and all. And it ended up being a little vague but the woman gave me the papers and said “Ok go home and just give this to your host residence, your French seems good enough, that should be a problem.” Reprise that Huzzah? “good enough” in this country means that the given person would be thrown a parade in any other land. Where’s my key to the city?
Later, I had to do more, far less, official things. But for Goodness Effing Sake. I could not put a sentence together, let alone understand what the girl was saying to me. I was trying to be a good sport and we just both acknowledged that our conversation/my verbal diarrhea was unfortunate for all involved. So, whatever, I’m thick skinned, but as soon as I left the office this other younger guy started laughing. For the benefit of the doubt, he was probably just laughing at the situation. Other the other hand, maybe he was just a prick.
The options were as follows: punch him in the face or go home and cry like a 3 year old and call my mother. Despite the longing for the former, it would have been unjust to take out 2 and a quarter months of frustration on this boy’s nose. Thank you to my mother and the Lewiston School System for allowing my 18 minutes of whine with that cheese.
Let’s just say this day didn’t light the cheerfulness tree on fire either.
So I guess this is the wall that one hits when your body and your brain and every sane sentiment in you says “get me the hell out of here.” But 73 days in is a pretty quality run. Besides, remember that other roughly 180 that need to pass?? Then the gods of French said “and they shall be the most excellent.”
Speaking of that, got to write God’s horoscope in class today (Work: Weigh well future decisions. You no longer have the leader of free world wrapped around your finger.) Great exercise in the imperative tense.
Sorry for the downer. Tomorrow, to be sure, I’ll go careening perilously over something or be impaled by a rogue baguette. And you’ll be the first to know…
Tuesday, November 11, 2008
get your optimism on.
Well Salut,
It’s been so long, real long.
But basically, so how about that election? Life in France for any American could probably be quantified by BE and AE (before election – does it need a capital E? – and after election). Before Election there were interviews (http://www.bienpublic.com/actu/infodujour/20081104.BPA1181.html) and prejudgments. After elections there were “you have a horrific non French accent! You must be American! Congratulations!!” That’s a first.
There was also a [shockingly brief] amount of time that one might call DE (during election). Live vicariously through this epic period in history with the Colby students….and Kassie? http://www.bienpublic.com/actu/infodujour/20081106.BPA1947.html
If you don’t read French, the pictures are enjoyable.
Meanwhile, despite that I would have been able to drop my dear Amanda Burgess’ name like a rock all over the place for a place to stay up all night and watch (“Colby? Democrats? Oh you might know la presidente. Amanda? Yeah, and she’s probably going to be Secretary or State or something) I declined. I decided to stay huddled under my blankets in my room clasping my computer in two hands close to my chest and spending the night with MSNBC.com live coverage. And my sister - via google chat. When Obama GAVE HIS VICTORY SPEECH (that’s as partisan as it’s going to get up in here) we watched with baited breath and then promptly got distracted by how obscenely gorgeous his family is.
Wow. It’s a crazy world.
In other news, after something like that, there just isn’t other news.
Happy Armistice Day.
It’s been so long, real long.
But basically, so how about that election? Life in France for any American could probably be quantified by BE and AE (before election – does it need a capital E? – and after election). Before Election there were interviews (http://www.bienpublic.com/actu/infodujour/20081104.BPA1181.html) and prejudgments. After elections there were “you have a horrific non French accent! You must be American! Congratulations!!” That’s a first.
There was also a [shockingly brief] amount of time that one might call DE (during election). Live vicariously through this epic period in history with the Colby students….and Kassie? http://www.bienpublic.com/actu/infodujour/20081106.BPA1947.html
If you don’t read French, the pictures are enjoyable.
Meanwhile, despite that I would have been able to drop my dear Amanda Burgess’ name like a rock all over the place for a place to stay up all night and watch (“Colby? Democrats? Oh you might know la presidente. Amanda? Yeah, and she’s probably going to be Secretary or State or something) I declined. I decided to stay huddled under my blankets in my room clasping my computer in two hands close to my chest and spending the night with MSNBC.com live coverage. And my sister - via google chat. When Obama GAVE HIS VICTORY SPEECH (that’s as partisan as it’s going to get up in here) we watched with baited breath and then promptly got distracted by how obscenely gorgeous his family is.
Wow. It’s a crazy world.
In other news, after something like that, there just isn’t other news.
Happy Armistice Day.
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