All the new student activities have now been completed, and of course I was the oldest one in the room every time. I was expecting that, of course, and I've only gotten a few strange looks and been mistaken for a professor once. I do get a huge kick out of the fact that I'm going through new student orientation at the same time as many members of the FHS Class of 2019!
The way they do it here is to have one orientation for exchange students, which was last week; one orientation for international students, which I attended last Friday; and orientations today by academic department.
Snapshots:
• I've been the only American in either of my orientations. When people find out I'm American, they assume that I'm not going to be able to understand them if they speak French to me. Yet so far, I've understood just about everything and have been able to answer questions clearly when asked.
• I was also the only one taking notes at the French department orientation and one of very few doing so at the international student orientation. That fascinated me. Generation gap?
• There were about 150 students at the international students' orientation, slightly more women than men, nearly all of them from Africa, and nearly all of them very nicely dressed. About a third were undergrads, a third master's degree students, and a third doctoral students. Nearly all were in their 20's and 30's, of course, so I was secretly very pleased to see two women come in who were definitely close to my age! I hope to cross their paths at some point. I thought it was interesting when they offered a cultural explanation that in this culture, if something starts at 1:30 p.m., you need to be there by 1:25 to be ready to start at 1:30. They talked about the transition to life in Canada (with more than a passing reference to winter), getting settled into living accommodations, and lots of info about student services: health services including mental health, financial aid, help finding work, academic support, and student activities.
• There were 15 students at the French department orientation; we were told that there were 25 new students total. 11 from the region, one exchange student from France, one each from Martinique and Guadeloupe, and me. 13 young women, one young man, and me. The department head sort of explained to the others what the French exchange student was doing there and what I was doing there; she stood out because of her accent, and I stood out because of my age. All the same info about student services came up again, and instead of talking about adjustment to Canada the rest of the presentation was about what to expect from university academics.
• Both the international students' orientation and the French department orientation were three-hour presentations. There was no interactive stuff, no ice-breakers or get-to-know-you stuff, which was fine with me. Just sitting and listening. Both presentations did include lots of info about student services and student activities, and definitely gave me the impression that things are really well run around here. They do seem to truly care about student well-being; both orientations mentioned that there are really positive relationships between faculty and students and that the faculty members are approachable. Kind of like being back at FHS only on the other side of the desk!
• There are no dorm activities as we think of them in the USA. There is on-campus housing, all apartment suites, but it only accommodates a few hundred of the 15,000 students here, and is mostly occupied by international students, so I'm told. The vast majority of undergrads commute from home. I live in an apartment building with six apartments in a nice residential neighborhood which is all either apartment buildings or private homes with basement apartments rented to students.
So I'm all new-student-oriented. It helps of course that I've been here the past three summers and know where things are located on campus and know the neighborhood, the city, and the region. I'm all settled into my apartment.
One thing they do here that's really helpful (and maybe American universities do this too and I'm just not aware of it since it's been awhile! ...) is put the course syllabus online. It is expected that students will read it before going to the first class. So over lunch I read the syllabi for my four courses ... and promptly dropped one of the four. The total workload would have just been too much. So I'm at nine credits now. I'll write more about the courses next time when things are finalized in case I do any more dropping/adding.
All the classes meet once a week for three hours. So the two three-hour orientations were also an orientation to staying focused and following presentations in French for three hours (with no break in one case) in which information was flowing in a constant unbroken stream. The syllabus for two of the three courses said that cell phones are to be turned off and put in our bags, not on the table, and that we are not allowed to have laptops out. Good thing I have good note-taking skills.
I have one class each on Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday. That's going to be great for coming home weekends. Sometimes I think I'd like to come home most weekends. But I wonder if that defeats the purpose of being here. Time will tell.
The two orientations were very informative, but I'm glad they're done and I'm eager to go to my first class tomorrow!
Tuesday, September 3, 2019
Sunday, August 25, 2019
it starts one week from tonight
I was updating my calendar today and realized that I will be settling into my apartment in Trois-Rivières, Québec one week from tonight. Woah.
I'm feeling a combination of excited and wistful. I've had a great summer. By this time next week, I will have accomplished everything I wanted to this summer: great times with family and friends, lots of music-making, and home decluttering (o.k., the decluttering isn't 100% accomplished, but is it ever?). My class schedule isn't set yet, more about that in a moment, but I'm really looking forward to being on campus and in classes.
The wistful part: for the first time since fall 2001, I won't be starting the school year at FHS. Last week I went to drop something off there, and for the first time I really felt that I'm not part of the staff any more. I'm still getting staff e-mails and thus got the e-mail with all the first-week-of-school instructions. I read it and realized that I won't be part of that. Of course, the first week of meetings was never the good part; that was seeing the kids. Still, seeing that e-mail really made it hit home that the FHS chapter in my book of life has reached its last page and it's time to start writing the next chapter. I still plan on going to games and performances, and if I'm around to sub I'll certainly be interested in doing so. But there will be kids and staff I don't know, and things will have changed as they inevitably do from year to year. Plus I'll miss my friends. I'm counting on e-mail, texting, and social media to fill that void.
FHS p.s.: it took them a year, but they have filled my position!
Last Thursday I went up to Trois-Rivières to report Friday morning to take the French test required of all non-Canadian students. It's essentially a French SAT without the math. I find it highly amusing that the test is published by the Educational Testing Service, the American company that brings you the SAT. And that was precisely the format; 180 multiple choice questions to answer by filling in the bubble sheet. 90 were listening questions where you only get to hear the text, not read it, and 90 were reading and grammar questions. Grammar is my strength (thanks to three decades of Latin teaching) and I know I got all the grammar questions right. Pretty sure the same is true for the reading. And there were a few listening questions where I had no idea what was said. Just a few, though, so I can live with that! Why this test is a big deal: none of the test-takers can register for classes until we get our scores. We were told that we would get them Wednesday in our e-mail. So I'll be spending Wednesday on my phone until that e-mail comes. 👀 Those who get a low score are required to register for remedial classes. I know I'm not going to get a low score. So I just need to get that e-mail, at which point the registration portal will be opened for me and the others. Shopping for fall classes, yeah!!
Calendar: Wednesday I get the e-mail and register. Friday morning I'll be back on campus for a mandatory meeting for all new international students. As I tell everyone, I hardly feel like an international student, but technically I am. Then I have to come right back as the final concert for my adult band camp (yes, that's a thing, and it's super-fun, this is my second year doing it) is Saturday. Sunday 9/1 I'll be heading up to Trois-Rivières with all my stuff, with a stopover in New Hampshire to watch a college soccer game, specifically to watch the member of the FHS Class of 2019 to whom I was the closest play in his first college game. Sunday night in Trois-Rivières I'll have to grocery shop and stock my fridge because I checked and the supermarkets will be closed there on Labor Day (or, as they spell it where I'm going, Labour Day, or I guess I should say Fête du Travail). So Monday 9/2 will be my day to settle in. Tuesday morning 9/3 I have yet another mandatory meeting for all new students in the French language and literature department. And Wednesday 9/4 it's go time!!
One part of this endeavor has evolved a little bit. I don't have a definite return date anymore. I will stay at least through the fall semester. Then if I decide I've accomplished what I went there to do, I'll come home. If there is something more for me, I'll stay for the academic year. If I want to stay beyond that point and can afford to, I will. All the back-and-forth travel I've done, or had to do, this summer has made me realize that I'm really not going to be all that far away. So I will keep my return date open and play it by ear.
A bit of housekeeping: some people have told me they have tried to comment on past blog posts and weren't able to. Try posting as "Anonymous" if you're having trouble commenting; I'd love to hear what you have to say! Thanks / merci!
I'm feeling a combination of excited and wistful. I've had a great summer. By this time next week, I will have accomplished everything I wanted to this summer: great times with family and friends, lots of music-making, and home decluttering (o.k., the decluttering isn't 100% accomplished, but is it ever?). My class schedule isn't set yet, more about that in a moment, but I'm really looking forward to being on campus and in classes.
The wistful part: for the first time since fall 2001, I won't be starting the school year at FHS. Last week I went to drop something off there, and for the first time I really felt that I'm not part of the staff any more. I'm still getting staff e-mails and thus got the e-mail with all the first-week-of-school instructions. I read it and realized that I won't be part of that. Of course, the first week of meetings was never the good part; that was seeing the kids. Still, seeing that e-mail really made it hit home that the FHS chapter in my book of life has reached its last page and it's time to start writing the next chapter. I still plan on going to games and performances, and if I'm around to sub I'll certainly be interested in doing so. But there will be kids and staff I don't know, and things will have changed as they inevitably do from year to year. Plus I'll miss my friends. I'm counting on e-mail, texting, and social media to fill that void.
FHS p.s.: it took them a year, but they have filled my position!
Last Thursday I went up to Trois-Rivières to report Friday morning to take the French test required of all non-Canadian students. It's essentially a French SAT without the math. I find it highly amusing that the test is published by the Educational Testing Service, the American company that brings you the SAT. And that was precisely the format; 180 multiple choice questions to answer by filling in the bubble sheet. 90 were listening questions where you only get to hear the text, not read it, and 90 were reading and grammar questions. Grammar is my strength (thanks to three decades of Latin teaching) and I know I got all the grammar questions right. Pretty sure the same is true for the reading. And there were a few listening questions where I had no idea what was said. Just a few, though, so I can live with that! Why this test is a big deal: none of the test-takers can register for classes until we get our scores. We were told that we would get them Wednesday in our e-mail. So I'll be spending Wednesday on my phone until that e-mail comes. 👀 Those who get a low score are required to register for remedial classes. I know I'm not going to get a low score. So I just need to get that e-mail, at which point the registration portal will be opened for me and the others. Shopping for fall classes, yeah!!
Calendar: Wednesday I get the e-mail and register. Friday morning I'll be back on campus for a mandatory meeting for all new international students. As I tell everyone, I hardly feel like an international student, but technically I am. Then I have to come right back as the final concert for my adult band camp (yes, that's a thing, and it's super-fun, this is my second year doing it) is Saturday. Sunday 9/1 I'll be heading up to Trois-Rivières with all my stuff, with a stopover in New Hampshire to watch a college soccer game, specifically to watch the member of the FHS Class of 2019 to whom I was the closest play in his first college game. Sunday night in Trois-Rivières I'll have to grocery shop and stock my fridge because I checked and the supermarkets will be closed there on Labor Day (or, as they spell it where I'm going, Labour Day, or I guess I should say Fête du Travail). So Monday 9/2 will be my day to settle in. Tuesday morning 9/3 I have yet another mandatory meeting for all new students in the French language and literature department. And Wednesday 9/4 it's go time!!
One part of this endeavor has evolved a little bit. I don't have a definite return date anymore. I will stay at least through the fall semester. Then if I decide I've accomplished what I went there to do, I'll come home. If there is something more for me, I'll stay for the academic year. If I want to stay beyond that point and can afford to, I will. All the back-and-forth travel I've done, or had to do, this summer has made me realize that I'm really not going to be all that far away. So I will keep my return date open and play it by ear.
A bit of housekeeping: some people have told me they have tried to comment on past blog posts and weren't able to. Try posting as "Anonymous" if you're having trouble commenting; I'd love to hear what you have to say! Thanks / merci!
Sunday, August 11, 2019
one step closer, and what I'll be giving up
Earlier this week, I finally received my admission to the Université du Québec à Trois-Rivières. Well ... conditional admission. The condition I have to meet: I have to go up and take a French test. I laughed. After the enthusiastic encouragement of the department head who had amazingly complimentary things to say about my written and spoken French ... I have to go take a French test. Fine. In my line of work, I understand that they want a test score on a piece of paper in my file. So I will go provide them with one. It will be a good excuse to go check on my apartment.
In making the trip up for the French test, I will be missing what would have been the last get-together of my women's circle before I return to Québec. This is a tough one. This group of women is so dear to me. We have shared our secrets, celebrated the wonderful events and milestones in our lives, and been there for each other during the difficult times. For four of the other six women, I had their kids in school. Our bond will always be there. But I will deeply miss being in their presence regularly.
I've also just found out that I'm required to go to the international students' orientation. I had to laugh again because I hardly think of myself as an international student there even though technically I am. And in attending that orientation, I will have to miss part of a music workshop I've already signed up and paid for and was really looking forward to.
As September gets closer, I'm feeling these and other impending losses more deeply. And there are more losses to come. I realized a few decades ago that once we are well into adulthood, no major move comes without some losses, without leaving some things behind.
My music has been taking off since I started studying guitar last December at the local folk music school and got involved with the school's groups and events. I found my performing niche with their new Cajun group for whom I'm the vocalist (in French) and one of two rhythm guitarists. The group is led by my guitar teacher who performed for a decade with BeauSoleil, probably the most famous Cajun band in the U.S. Mainers might have heard them at the American Folk Festival in Bangor where they have performed a couple of times. Earlier this week I saw my guitar teacher and we had a great conversation. He wants us to perform. And I want to perform, especially with him. We really hit it off and he is just an amazing performer. He knows I'm heading back to Québec shortly. So how will performing work? Will it work? I want it to. But I can't be in two places at once.
And then there's my ties to the school where I taught for the last 18 years of my 33-year career. There are a lot of incoming seniors and their families I'm close to. They won't be part of my day-to-day life any more. I know I'll be back some weekends and during school vacations. But the role the school has played in my life for the past 18 years is over. A few parents of seniors were nice enough to ask me if I would still stay involved with graduation planning. I said I would be happy to but that it has to be the school's decision. The responsible parties at school have said yes, that of course they would like me to stay involved. But will it be realistic? The academic year at UQTR ends April 24, 2020, well before graduation season. So it could work. But a lot of work has to be done before that point that I won't be there to help with. So is it realistic? Is it fair to the people who will be doing that work to just waltz in next April and say hey, I'm back, even though I've been clear that I will not be available until April?
After I wrote the first draft of this post, a tragic event happened in my school community that really brought home the topic of no longer being a day-to-day part of it. An incoming senior boy who was a student in my class as a freshman drowned two days ago in the Saco River. He jumped into the river off a rope swing and never resurfaced. His body was found about 7 p.m. by search divers. At 8 p.m. a parent texted me to tell me that kids were congregating at the school. My reply text: "I'm on my way." And off I headed for the 18-minute drive which I probably accomplished in less than 18 minutes this time. And when I arrived, there they were, all in a big mass in the middle of the parking lot. I estimated about 150 kids. I was a few steps from my car when a boy who had been in my class this year saw me, came running, and collapsed into my arms sobbing. I have no idea how long we stood there, him sobbing, me holding him. It was a while. Then another student came up. And another. And another. For an hour. A parent who was there on the periphery told me later that she wondered who it was that kids were waiting to hug. Then she saw. Oh. It's D-Whit. It was an honor to be there for them, and I'm humbled in the trust they had in me at that moment. And I'm very grateful that I was there in their moment of need and not in Trois-Rivières. At moments when a young person dies, it's important for their peers to see us adults role-modeling that we are grieving but not helpless with grief, that we are putting one foot in front of the other and carrying on, and that we are there for each other. (It's also important for us to take care of ourselves and process the loss away from the kids. Which I am doing. In private.)
Obviously this was an extreme event. But there will be others when I will be longing to be there and can't because of the distance or my class schedule. And it will hurt, whether it's a happy or sad event.
So these days I'm coming to terms with the fact that this choice to go to Trois-Rivières will not come without some losses. I'm dealing with it by reminding myself why I made the decision to go: because I was called to go up there and spend a school year in an area where I've spent three great summers. A calling. A Sirens' Song. And yet two nights ago when I was grateful to have been in town at the moment when we all needed to be together, I started second-guessing myself. This is my community. What am I thinking? Why leave? I have everything I need and want right here. Not everyone handles separations and good-byes well and I've felt some people pulling away already. Am I making a mistake? Am I reading more into "the calling" than is there?
For the moment, I just have to trust the call. I've said all along that the call is so loud and persistent that there must be something up there for me. I need to finish what I started and find out what that is.
In making the trip up for the French test, I will be missing what would have been the last get-together of my women's circle before I return to Québec. This is a tough one. This group of women is so dear to me. We have shared our secrets, celebrated the wonderful events and milestones in our lives, and been there for each other during the difficult times. For four of the other six women, I had their kids in school. Our bond will always be there. But I will deeply miss being in their presence regularly.
I've also just found out that I'm required to go to the international students' orientation. I had to laugh again because I hardly think of myself as an international student there even though technically I am. And in attending that orientation, I will have to miss part of a music workshop I've already signed up and paid for and was really looking forward to.
As September gets closer, I'm feeling these and other impending losses more deeply. And there are more losses to come. I realized a few decades ago that once we are well into adulthood, no major move comes without some losses, without leaving some things behind.
My music has been taking off since I started studying guitar last December at the local folk music school and got involved with the school's groups and events. I found my performing niche with their new Cajun group for whom I'm the vocalist (in French) and one of two rhythm guitarists. The group is led by my guitar teacher who performed for a decade with BeauSoleil, probably the most famous Cajun band in the U.S. Mainers might have heard them at the American Folk Festival in Bangor where they have performed a couple of times. Earlier this week I saw my guitar teacher and we had a great conversation. He wants us to perform. And I want to perform, especially with him. We really hit it off and he is just an amazing performer. He knows I'm heading back to Québec shortly. So how will performing work? Will it work? I want it to. But I can't be in two places at once.
And then there's my ties to the school where I taught for the last 18 years of my 33-year career. There are a lot of incoming seniors and their families I'm close to. They won't be part of my day-to-day life any more. I know I'll be back some weekends and during school vacations. But the role the school has played in my life for the past 18 years is over. A few parents of seniors were nice enough to ask me if I would still stay involved with graduation planning. I said I would be happy to but that it has to be the school's decision. The responsible parties at school have said yes, that of course they would like me to stay involved. But will it be realistic? The academic year at UQTR ends April 24, 2020, well before graduation season. So it could work. But a lot of work has to be done before that point that I won't be there to help with. So is it realistic? Is it fair to the people who will be doing that work to just waltz in next April and say hey, I'm back, even though I've been clear that I will not be available until April?
After I wrote the first draft of this post, a tragic event happened in my school community that really brought home the topic of no longer being a day-to-day part of it. An incoming senior boy who was a student in my class as a freshman drowned two days ago in the Saco River. He jumped into the river off a rope swing and never resurfaced. His body was found about 7 p.m. by search divers. At 8 p.m. a parent texted me to tell me that kids were congregating at the school. My reply text: "I'm on my way." And off I headed for the 18-minute drive which I probably accomplished in less than 18 minutes this time. And when I arrived, there they were, all in a big mass in the middle of the parking lot. I estimated about 150 kids. I was a few steps from my car when a boy who had been in my class this year saw me, came running, and collapsed into my arms sobbing. I have no idea how long we stood there, him sobbing, me holding him. It was a while. Then another student came up. And another. And another. For an hour. A parent who was there on the periphery told me later that she wondered who it was that kids were waiting to hug. Then she saw. Oh. It's D-Whit. It was an honor to be there for them, and I'm humbled in the trust they had in me at that moment. And I'm very grateful that I was there in their moment of need and not in Trois-Rivières. At moments when a young person dies, it's important for their peers to see us adults role-modeling that we are grieving but not helpless with grief, that we are putting one foot in front of the other and carrying on, and that we are there for each other. (It's also important for us to take care of ourselves and process the loss away from the kids. Which I am doing. In private.)
Obviously this was an extreme event. But there will be others when I will be longing to be there and can't because of the distance or my class schedule. And it will hurt, whether it's a happy or sad event.
So these days I'm coming to terms with the fact that this choice to go to Trois-Rivières will not come without some losses. I'm dealing with it by reminding myself why I made the decision to go: because I was called to go up there and spend a school year in an area where I've spent three great summers. A calling. A Sirens' Song. And yet two nights ago when I was grateful to have been in town at the moment when we all needed to be together, I started second-guessing myself. This is my community. What am I thinking? Why leave? I have everything I need and want right here. Not everyone handles separations and good-byes well and I've felt some people pulling away already. Am I making a mistake? Am I reading more into "the calling" than is there?
For the moment, I just have to trust the call. I've said all along that the call is so loud and persistent that there must be something up there for me. I need to finish what I started and find out what that is.
Thursday, August 1, 2019
a tentative Plan B for next year
August 1, the New Moon, and Mercury direct (if that reference means nothing, pick up an Old Farmer's Almanac and read up; weird stuff happens during Mercury retrograde and resolves when Mercury goes direct). August 1 is also the Pagan holiday of Lammas, which celebrates the harvest. Perfect day for an update. I'd been waiting to post until details were finalized, and they're not, but here goes anyway!
Recap: I learned on July 10 that l'École internationale de français (ÉIF, International French School) was cancelling the advanced level courses for fall due to low enrollment. My whole next year's plan had been built around that. So I needed a new plan. My four options:
1. Enroll in the regular French courses at the University, not the ÉIF. Super-intimidating.
2. Enroll in another ÉIF program which consists of one-on-one tutoring, 15 hours a week for two weeks max, with the same teacher. One of the teachers in this program is the one who has been my teacher for the past three summers and is fantastic. So that sounded good.
3. Look at other programs at other universities in Québec. There are good ones at McGill in Montréal, Laval in Québec (City), and Trois-Pistoles, in, well, Trois-Pistoles (115 miles north of Allagash, Maine). I'm actually an alumna of the one at Laval.
4. Pack it in and come home.
I considered #3 for about one minute. I already have an apartment in Trois-Rivières with a lease until April 30, 2020. Québec law does not allow the breaking of a lease. So the apartment is a sunk cost, and thus option #3, although I'm aware that it's not necessary to invest more money just because of a sunk cost, has been eliminated. On to option #4.
I considered #4 for about two minutes. But as I've noted before in this blog, I'm feeling very strongly called on an intuitive level to spend more time at the Université du Québec à Trois-Rivières (UQTR) and in the Mauricie region (upper central Québec, named for the St-Maurice River). VERY strongly called. Something is up there for me. If that sounds crazy, so be it. I've spent my whole adult life making decisions on intuition more than facts, and it has served me well. Indeed I've learned that if I don't pay attention to my intuition, I regret it later. So option #4 to pack it in and come home has been eliminated.
Option #2, the one-on-one tutoring. I asked my teacher about this possibility. He checked and found out that I could do it, but with no guarantee that I would get him as a teacher as the ÉIF assigns teachers to students by seniority. I didn't want to take the chance on not getting him as a teacher and spending 30 hours over two weeks by someone I didn't know and may not hit it off with as much educationally and personally. So option #2 has been eliminated.
Option #1 is left.
Here's the list of reasons NOT to do it.
• More expensive.
• More isolated; the ÉIF is a community, a school within a school, and with option #1 I'd be just another commuter student.
• Tougher academic environment. It's a giant step from the ÉIF to taking regular UQTR courses with native-French-speaking classmates.
So why am I applying to do it anyway?
• The academic advisor of the ÉIF suggested it and said I would be able to do the work.
• My online/Skype tutor over the past year got her BA from this program and is getting her masters' in it now. She is one of two francophones who know my capacity in French better than anyone and she said she was "certain" that I could do the work. I asked her if I would be the only adult in the classroom. She said not at all, that she (mid-20's) was one of the youngest graduates of her program.
• I met one of the professors in the program through my summer program. She encouraged me to take her class.
• The advisor suggested I talk to the department head of the undergrad French department. So I made an appointment with him for my last morning of my summer program, which was Friday 7/19. He is very highly regarded so I was looking forward to meeting him.
It went great. He was utterly encouraging. He praised the quality of my written and spoken French and said that they had admitted non-francophone students with less proficiency than I have now. He went over the list of courses with me and gave me a copy of the letter they give to newly admitted students to the department with info about a big first-day meeting. He recommended that I apply as a matriculated student and pursue either a "certificat" (30 credits) or a "baccalauréat" (90 credits - university in Québec is 3 years of undergrad because they do two years first in a "cégep," something like a community college or junior college). I don't really need a degree, but the encouragement felt great.
So I left that appointment, and left UQTR and Trois-Rivières immediately following, on a high. It felt like I had gotten a new direction. I headed home that Friday and filled out the online application on Monday. Applying to college in Québec is a lot cheaper and easier than in the USA. It took me an hour, and most of that was spent looking in my apartment for my Ellsworth High School and University of Maine diplomas which the application requested a photo of. No test scores, no letters of recommendation, no resumé with academic honors and extracurricular activities. Just transcripts and diplomas. I knew right where my transcripts were, but not my diplomas. Thanks to this, I have everything in one place now!
So now I wait. I have an e-mail acknowledgement that my application has been received. I have the code and security questions to check the status of my application online -- which I have been doing a ridiculous number of times a day. Probably not unlike high school seniors around the country. Other than that ... I'm set. I have my apartment. I have a bank account. I know my way around. I know what my class schedule will be as soon as I'm admitted and sign up for it!
It's a little nerve-wracking to be waiting to be admitted. But I don't expect anything to go wrong this time. I'm considering the fact that the department head endorsed my applying and enrolling as a sign that things will work out this time!
And I have to be honest: I know I will work harder and learn a lot more this way than I would have in the ÉIF. I was already one of the top students in the ÉIF and it would have been very easy for me, more like a vacation than a college semester or year. The department head I met with told me I was "déjà trop bonne" ("already too good") at French for the ÉIF. Sounds like this is yet another case of things working out the way they're meant to work out!
To give me a reason to add a photo, here's how I met the professor from whom I'm planning on taking a class. Her name is Patricia Powers. Despite the English-language name, she is 100% Québécoise francophone. French people with English names are not unheard of up here. She is very high-profile up here; she is on Radio-Canada (Canada's French PBS; the English is the CBC, or Canadian Broadcasting Corporation) as a "chroniqueuse," a great word for which there is no exact English equivalent; it's like a podcaster but on the radio, not on a podcast. The masculine is "chroniqueur." She's big in the entertainment community and the UQTR community. She teaches French both in the ÉIF and the regular UQTR French department. And the icing on the cake, or as they say in Québec, "le cerise sur le gâteau (the cherry on the cake)," is that she is a very warm and lovely person. She was looking for two ÉIF students from my summer program (for adults) to interview for a short video ad to put on the ÉIF website and wanted two people who spoke French well. (I'll share the link as soon as it's posted.) She picked me and a woman from Edmonton, Alberta who actually was francophone as a child but lost a lot of her French due to going to anglophone schools, having mostly anglophone friends, and marrying into an anglophone family. So she sounds francophone when she speaks. Here is a photo taken right before the interview. Left to right are Patricia Powers, me, and my classmate Sylvia. Who says older women can't look fine? I think this is an amazing photo of all of us. Notice how she's touching my hand and leaning in; very québécois. She encouraged me to take her fall course "expression orale," which is public speaking. I can't wait! I really enjoyed taking public speaking in high school and college in English, so doing it in French will be a blast!
Recap: I learned on July 10 that l'École internationale de français (ÉIF, International French School) was cancelling the advanced level courses for fall due to low enrollment. My whole next year's plan had been built around that. So I needed a new plan. My four options:
1. Enroll in the regular French courses at the University, not the ÉIF. Super-intimidating.
2. Enroll in another ÉIF program which consists of one-on-one tutoring, 15 hours a week for two weeks max, with the same teacher. One of the teachers in this program is the one who has been my teacher for the past three summers and is fantastic. So that sounded good.
3. Look at other programs at other universities in Québec. There are good ones at McGill in Montréal, Laval in Québec (City), and Trois-Pistoles, in, well, Trois-Pistoles (115 miles north of Allagash, Maine). I'm actually an alumna of the one at Laval.
4. Pack it in and come home.
I considered #3 for about one minute. I already have an apartment in Trois-Rivières with a lease until April 30, 2020. Québec law does not allow the breaking of a lease. So the apartment is a sunk cost, and thus option #3, although I'm aware that it's not necessary to invest more money just because of a sunk cost, has been eliminated. On to option #4.
I considered #4 for about two minutes. But as I've noted before in this blog, I'm feeling very strongly called on an intuitive level to spend more time at the Université du Québec à Trois-Rivières (UQTR) and in the Mauricie region (upper central Québec, named for the St-Maurice River). VERY strongly called. Something is up there for me. If that sounds crazy, so be it. I've spent my whole adult life making decisions on intuition more than facts, and it has served me well. Indeed I've learned that if I don't pay attention to my intuition, I regret it later. So option #4 to pack it in and come home has been eliminated.
Option #2, the one-on-one tutoring. I asked my teacher about this possibility. He checked and found out that I could do it, but with no guarantee that I would get him as a teacher as the ÉIF assigns teachers to students by seniority. I didn't want to take the chance on not getting him as a teacher and spending 30 hours over two weeks by someone I didn't know and may not hit it off with as much educationally and personally. So option #2 has been eliminated.
Option #1 is left.
Here's the list of reasons NOT to do it.
• More expensive.
• More isolated; the ÉIF is a community, a school within a school, and with option #1 I'd be just another commuter student.
• Tougher academic environment. It's a giant step from the ÉIF to taking regular UQTR courses with native-French-speaking classmates.
So why am I applying to do it anyway?
• The academic advisor of the ÉIF suggested it and said I would be able to do the work.
• My online/Skype tutor over the past year got her BA from this program and is getting her masters' in it now. She is one of two francophones who know my capacity in French better than anyone and she said she was "certain" that I could do the work. I asked her if I would be the only adult in the classroom. She said not at all, that she (mid-20's) was one of the youngest graduates of her program.
• I met one of the professors in the program through my summer program. She encouraged me to take her class.
• The advisor suggested I talk to the department head of the undergrad French department. So I made an appointment with him for my last morning of my summer program, which was Friday 7/19. He is very highly regarded so I was looking forward to meeting him.
It went great. He was utterly encouraging. He praised the quality of my written and spoken French and said that they had admitted non-francophone students with less proficiency than I have now. He went over the list of courses with me and gave me a copy of the letter they give to newly admitted students to the department with info about a big first-day meeting. He recommended that I apply as a matriculated student and pursue either a "certificat" (30 credits) or a "baccalauréat" (90 credits - university in Québec is 3 years of undergrad because they do two years first in a "cégep," something like a community college or junior college). I don't really need a degree, but the encouragement felt great.
So I left that appointment, and left UQTR and Trois-Rivières immediately following, on a high. It felt like I had gotten a new direction. I headed home that Friday and filled out the online application on Monday. Applying to college in Québec is a lot cheaper and easier than in the USA. It took me an hour, and most of that was spent looking in my apartment for my Ellsworth High School and University of Maine diplomas which the application requested a photo of. No test scores, no letters of recommendation, no resumé with academic honors and extracurricular activities. Just transcripts and diplomas. I knew right where my transcripts were, but not my diplomas. Thanks to this, I have everything in one place now!
So now I wait. I have an e-mail acknowledgement that my application has been received. I have the code and security questions to check the status of my application online -- which I have been doing a ridiculous number of times a day. Probably not unlike high school seniors around the country. Other than that ... I'm set. I have my apartment. I have a bank account. I know my way around. I know what my class schedule will be as soon as I'm admitted and sign up for it!
It's a little nerve-wracking to be waiting to be admitted. But I don't expect anything to go wrong this time. I'm considering the fact that the department head endorsed my applying and enrolling as a sign that things will work out this time!
And I have to be honest: I know I will work harder and learn a lot more this way than I would have in the ÉIF. I was already one of the top students in the ÉIF and it would have been very easy for me, more like a vacation than a college semester or year. The department head I met with told me I was "déjà trop bonne" ("already too good") at French for the ÉIF. Sounds like this is yet another case of things working out the way they're meant to work out!
To give me a reason to add a photo, here's how I met the professor from whom I'm planning on taking a class. Her name is Patricia Powers. Despite the English-language name, she is 100% Québécoise francophone. French people with English names are not unheard of up here. She is very high-profile up here; she is on Radio-Canada (Canada's French PBS; the English is the CBC, or Canadian Broadcasting Corporation) as a "chroniqueuse," a great word for which there is no exact English equivalent; it's like a podcaster but on the radio, not on a podcast. The masculine is "chroniqueur." She's big in the entertainment community and the UQTR community. She teaches French both in the ÉIF and the regular UQTR French department. And the icing on the cake, or as they say in Québec, "le cerise sur le gâteau (the cherry on the cake)," is that she is a very warm and lovely person. She was looking for two ÉIF students from my summer program (for adults) to interview for a short video ad to put on the ÉIF website and wanted two people who spoke French well. (I'll share the link as soon as it's posted.) She picked me and a woman from Edmonton, Alberta who actually was francophone as a child but lost a lot of her French due to going to anglophone schools, having mostly anglophone friends, and marrying into an anglophone family. So she sounds francophone when she speaks. Here is a photo taken right before the interview. Left to right are Patricia Powers, me, and my classmate Sylvia. Who says older women can't look fine? I think this is an amazing photo of all of us. Notice how she's touching my hand and leaning in; very québécois. She encouraged me to take her fall course "expression orale," which is public speaking. I can't wait! I really enjoyed taking public speaking in high school and college in English, so doing it in French will be a blast!
Tuesday, July 23, 2019
So what is it about Québec that keeps me going back?
When I first did my summer study program in Trois-Rivières, Québec in 2017, I tried to figure out how long it had been since I'd been anywhere in Québec. I wasn't even sure. I knew it was pre-9/11. I finally decided it was probably 1999 or 2000. I used to enjoy going to performances of the Montréal West Operatic Society (now sadly defunct). I'm not sure why I stopped going to Québec. The first few years after 1999-2000 I was newly divorced and just keeping my head above water financially. Eventually I got picked up full-time at Freeport H.S., so got back to getting my French on during the summers of 2005 and 2006 through a summer immersion program at Université Sainte-Anne in Pointe-de-l'Église, Nouvelle-Écosse (also known as Church Point, Nova Scotia). It was an absolutely fantastic fun program where I learned a lot. It's a tiny campus right on the ocean in the middle of freaking nowhere -- a beautiful part of freaking nowhere. So it was ideal for an immersion experience; no distractions. There were 400 of us if I recall correctly, ages 13 to 70's, and there was something to do in French every waking hour; classes in the morning and constant activity in the afternoon and evening and on the weekends.
Summer 2017 was coming up, and I wanted to get my French on again. But as much as I had loved my two Université Sainte-Anne summers, I had already worked through all the levels of French they offered. There was nothing left for me to do. So I looked elsewhere, and Google searching called my attention to the Road Scholar program at the Université du Québec à Trois-Rivières. Exact same immersion model as Université Sainte-Anne; class in the morning, excursions and activities in the afternoon and evenings, and out-of-town excursions on the weekends. I didn't know the city of Trois-Rivières but noted that it was exactly at the midpoint between Montréal and the city of Québec. Sounded good.
And it was. - so much that I repeated the program in 2018 and 2019. I've had the same fantastic teacher for all three years, and he has taught us as much about Québec culture, history, and life as he has about the French language. Outside of class, it hasn't strictly been an immersion experience as a lot of English has been spoken by participants, and the organizers have sort of looked the other way. This is a trip sponsored by a for-profit company, so they were inclined to give people what they wanted, as opposed to Université Sainte-Anne which was an academic program with credits granted so they had standing to enforce the all-French rule.
So even if the program wasn't in French as much, why have I fallen in love with Québec over the course of this program? First, I've had great French learning experiences my whole life thanks to fantastic teachers and professors, so I was predisposed to love a place right over the Maine border which is all French-speaking. Second, the people really are different in more qualities than the language they speak. Québec people are more physical and warm than their anglo counterparts. People kiss on both cheeks when they meet. People seem to be a little more direct in their communications too. Over my years in education I've learned to filter every word that comes out of my mouth or my keyboard lest someone take something the wrong way. It's so refreshing to just say what needs to be said and know that it will be received as intended, even if I'm saying it in my second language.
There is music everywhere, and people appreciate Québec folk music as much as whatever is popular at the moment. And the folk music is up-tempo and lively. I've heard very little English-language popular music when I've been there over the past three years. Finally, there is overt pride in their culture and language, and a certain strength of character and resilience that comes from the fact that they have had to fight to maintain French as their language. I truly did not understand that at first. I thought the French and English-speaking communities co-existed peacefully kind of on the scale of a Coke-or-Pepsi preference. Not so. My teacher over the past three years and the grad student who was my online tutor over the past school year have taught me a lot about the social history of Québec. It's more than just hockey and snow. There is rich literature and folklore borne out of their struggle to maintain their language and culture. And for a province / culture of 8 million people, there is a LOT of art-music-literature. Fun fact from my teacher who is an author and singer-songwriter (fun fact about the fun fact: I played on two tracks for his new album!): 3000 sales is considered a best-seller in Québec.
Here's a live video of the big hit of 2015 from the annual Québec music awards ceremony. When I asked my tutor for suggestions for Québec songs to learn to sing and play on guitar, this was the first one she mentioned. The group is the super-popular Les Cowboys Fringants, which means "The Frisky Cowboys." Their music is a mix of folk rock and Québec traditional. Note the violin and accordion in the band. The song is "Marine marchande," which means "Merchant Marine." In the tune, a man and woman in a couple are calling each other horrible names, the man says he has signed up for the merchant marine to get away from her, he goes and he's miserable, he says he wants to come back to her, and she says forget it, she has a new girlfriend who lives upstairs and is keeping his side of the bed warm. The refrain says "Let's drink, let's drink, let's drink, my throat is on fire, let's drink, let's drink, let's drink for all the unhappy couples, let's drink, let's drink, let's drink, just one more, babe, I've enlisted in the merchant marine." A cultural note about the "couple" thing particular to Québec: a much higher percentage of man-woman couples never get married in Québec than in English Canada or the USA. Something like one-third. People are in decades-long committed relationships, have kids even, and never get married. Québec French has something American English doesn't and really needs: a word for a committed non-married partner, any gender person or couple. It's "conjoint / conjointe" (in its grammatical masculine / feminine forms). And people also use it for their partner they're married to. So calling someone your "conjoint/e" means they're your partner with the marital status or lack thereof irrelevant. Pretty cool. O.k., here's the video!
Les Cowboys Fringants, "Marine marchande"
As for Trois-Rivières itself, it's a city of 137,000 and I'm not really a city person. Portland is plenty big enough. But what I like about Trois-Rivières compared to Montréal and Québec is that, in fact, I have to do everything in French. Montréal has a large English-speaking community and Québec has a ton of tourists. Trois-Rivières has neither. So I never, ever, ever hear or see English when I'm out and about. I'm learning more because of that. And as cities go, it's clean, it's safe, and it has a nice riverfront downtown area and a cool music and theater scene -- needless to say, right up my alley. I told someone once that the only thing I missed when I'm there (besides family and friends) was living less than 200 yards from the ocean as I do in Portland.
Corollary to that, I love that I'm learning all the time. Every day I pick up lots of new stuff: vocabulary words, conversational expressions, info I need for daily living, cultural or current events references. Sometimes it's a challenge; I find that when I have to interact with someone out in the city as opposed to on campus, I kind of steel myself before the interaction. I make sure I know the vocabulary I need to ask for what I need, and I hope like crazy that I'll understand what they say back to me. I don't always. But I can almost always get the gist. Once in a great while someone will switch to English; that's discouraging for me because it means that I wasn't successful at executing the interaction in French. But I just remind myself that they're doing it out of courtesy. And the longer I'm there, the less it happens, and the less it will continue to happen.
As I write this, I'll be back and forth between Portland/Freeport and Ellsworth for most of the rest of the summer. After that, still up in the air at present, but I'm checking out a few options. I should know soon. But I'm following news from up there, corresponding with a couple of new friends, and playing lots of lively Québec music on my phone through my car speakers whenever I'm driving anywhere. I'm lucky to have three places where I feel like I'm at home.
Summer 2017 was coming up, and I wanted to get my French on again. But as much as I had loved my two Université Sainte-Anne summers, I had already worked through all the levels of French they offered. There was nothing left for me to do. So I looked elsewhere, and Google searching called my attention to the Road Scholar program at the Université du Québec à Trois-Rivières. Exact same immersion model as Université Sainte-Anne; class in the morning, excursions and activities in the afternoon and evenings, and out-of-town excursions on the weekends. I didn't know the city of Trois-Rivières but noted that it was exactly at the midpoint between Montréal and the city of Québec. Sounded good.
And it was. - so much that I repeated the program in 2018 and 2019. I've had the same fantastic teacher for all three years, and he has taught us as much about Québec culture, history, and life as he has about the French language. Outside of class, it hasn't strictly been an immersion experience as a lot of English has been spoken by participants, and the organizers have sort of looked the other way. This is a trip sponsored by a for-profit company, so they were inclined to give people what they wanted, as opposed to Université Sainte-Anne which was an academic program with credits granted so they had standing to enforce the all-French rule.
So even if the program wasn't in French as much, why have I fallen in love with Québec over the course of this program? First, I've had great French learning experiences my whole life thanks to fantastic teachers and professors, so I was predisposed to love a place right over the Maine border which is all French-speaking. Second, the people really are different in more qualities than the language they speak. Québec people are more physical and warm than their anglo counterparts. People kiss on both cheeks when they meet. People seem to be a little more direct in their communications too. Over my years in education I've learned to filter every word that comes out of my mouth or my keyboard lest someone take something the wrong way. It's so refreshing to just say what needs to be said and know that it will be received as intended, even if I'm saying it in my second language.
There is music everywhere, and people appreciate Québec folk music as much as whatever is popular at the moment. And the folk music is up-tempo and lively. I've heard very little English-language popular music when I've been there over the past three years. Finally, there is overt pride in their culture and language, and a certain strength of character and resilience that comes from the fact that they have had to fight to maintain French as their language. I truly did not understand that at first. I thought the French and English-speaking communities co-existed peacefully kind of on the scale of a Coke-or-Pepsi preference. Not so. My teacher over the past three years and the grad student who was my online tutor over the past school year have taught me a lot about the social history of Québec. It's more than just hockey and snow. There is rich literature and folklore borne out of their struggle to maintain their language and culture. And for a province / culture of 8 million people, there is a LOT of art-music-literature. Fun fact from my teacher who is an author and singer-songwriter (fun fact about the fun fact: I played on two tracks for his new album!): 3000 sales is considered a best-seller in Québec.
Here's a live video of the big hit of 2015 from the annual Québec music awards ceremony. When I asked my tutor for suggestions for Québec songs to learn to sing and play on guitar, this was the first one she mentioned. The group is the super-popular Les Cowboys Fringants, which means "The Frisky Cowboys." Their music is a mix of folk rock and Québec traditional. Note the violin and accordion in the band. The song is "Marine marchande," which means "Merchant Marine." In the tune, a man and woman in a couple are calling each other horrible names, the man says he has signed up for the merchant marine to get away from her, he goes and he's miserable, he says he wants to come back to her, and she says forget it, she has a new girlfriend who lives upstairs and is keeping his side of the bed warm. The refrain says "Let's drink, let's drink, let's drink, my throat is on fire, let's drink, let's drink, let's drink for all the unhappy couples, let's drink, let's drink, let's drink, just one more, babe, I've enlisted in the merchant marine." A cultural note about the "couple" thing particular to Québec: a much higher percentage of man-woman couples never get married in Québec than in English Canada or the USA. Something like one-third. People are in decades-long committed relationships, have kids even, and never get married. Québec French has something American English doesn't and really needs: a word for a committed non-married partner, any gender person or couple. It's "conjoint / conjointe" (in its grammatical masculine / feminine forms). And people also use it for their partner they're married to. So calling someone your "conjoint/e" means they're your partner with the marital status or lack thereof irrelevant. Pretty cool. O.k., here's the video!
Les Cowboys Fringants, "Marine marchande"
As for Trois-Rivières itself, it's a city of 137,000 and I'm not really a city person. Portland is plenty big enough. But what I like about Trois-Rivières compared to Montréal and Québec is that, in fact, I have to do everything in French. Montréal has a large English-speaking community and Québec has a ton of tourists. Trois-Rivières has neither. So I never, ever, ever hear or see English when I'm out and about. I'm learning more because of that. And as cities go, it's clean, it's safe, and it has a nice riverfront downtown area and a cool music and theater scene -- needless to say, right up my alley. I told someone once that the only thing I missed when I'm there (besides family and friends) was living less than 200 yards from the ocean as I do in Portland.
Corollary to that, I love that I'm learning all the time. Every day I pick up lots of new stuff: vocabulary words, conversational expressions, info I need for daily living, cultural or current events references. Sometimes it's a challenge; I find that when I have to interact with someone out in the city as opposed to on campus, I kind of steel myself before the interaction. I make sure I know the vocabulary I need to ask for what I need, and I hope like crazy that I'll understand what they say back to me. I don't always. But I can almost always get the gist. Once in a great while someone will switch to English; that's discouraging for me because it means that I wasn't successful at executing the interaction in French. But I just remind myself that they're doing it out of courtesy. And the longer I'm there, the less it happens, and the less it will continue to happen.
As I write this, I'll be back and forth between Portland/Freeport and Ellsworth for most of the rest of the summer. After that, still up in the air at present, but I'm checking out a few options. I should know soon. But I'm following news from up there, corresponding with a couple of new friends, and playing lots of lively Québec music on my phone through my car speakers whenever I'm driving anywhere. I'm lucky to have three places where I feel like I'm at home.
Friday, July 12, 2019
The colorful world of Québec swear words
I'm going to start this post the same way I did the last one: I have wonderful friends. The news from my last post about my program being cancelled for fall was a downer, and I so appreciate the messages of support I've gotten from folks. Thank you soooooo much. I'm working on a Plan B; nothing is settled yet.
I'm coming home for the weekend. Anyone going to be around? This weekend trip home was already planned before anything hit the fan, but the opportunity to spend time on my home turf and think about stuff will be good too. The reason for the trip: two of my former students directed an independent film, "Invisible Things." I was a financial patron and an extra in a few scenes, so I got invited to the première Sunday night, and I'm not missing it. So I'll be home sometime Saturday and heading back to Québec Monday morning.
Now to the topic of this post: "the colorful world of Québec swear words." Definitely not for delicate ears and far from school-appropriate. Being retired, I can survive a breach of professionalism. :)
In all cultures, the most taboo language reflects the cultural taboos. Québec culture was very strongly influenced by the Catholic Church for most of the last few centuries. So the most taboo words are words from the church. So it follows that words that are completely innocuous to us are highly offensive when used as expletives. It cracks me up!
Now to the illustration that I'm still cracking up over. There is an excellent museum here in Trois-Rivières devoted to Québec popular culture. Part of one exhibit is devoted to, sure enough, these swear words which are unique in the French-speaking world. Check out this photo of the exhibit:
I walked around the corner and saw this and started cracking up laughing. This is the unhibited nature of the Québécois! Now I want to spell out an equivalency for you just to illustrate how startling and how hysterical this was. Imagine that you are attending a museum exhibit on American culture. You walk into a room, and there in huge block letters on the wall you read: "Fuck, Shit, Goddammit, Son of a Bitch, Asshole, Dickhead, Jesus Christ." This is exactly what you are looking at in the photo: Québec swear words with that level of offensiveness! They started with "tabarnak," which is the big kahuna of swear words which is why I started my list with "Fuck." Coming out swinging!!
What do they mean literally? In order of the photo, it's "tabernacle" or church; "host" like the communion host or wafer; "ciborium" which is the box that holds the host; "chalice" which is the communion drinking cup; "sacrement" which is the same in English; "viarge" which is "virgin" referring to Mary, the mother of Jesus; and "Christ." Yes, indeed, those are Québec's most taboo swear words.
You do hear people say "Fuck" up here but it has no power to them. They think they're saying something with about the offensiveness level of "damn it."
I wanted to make a funny post after my last super-serious one. I hope you find this as hilarious as I do!
I'm coming home for the weekend. Anyone going to be around? This weekend trip home was already planned before anything hit the fan, but the opportunity to spend time on my home turf and think about stuff will be good too. The reason for the trip: two of my former students directed an independent film, "Invisible Things." I was a financial patron and an extra in a few scenes, so I got invited to the première Sunday night, and I'm not missing it. So I'll be home sometime Saturday and heading back to Québec Monday morning.
Now to the topic of this post: "the colorful world of Québec swear words." Definitely not for delicate ears and far from school-appropriate. Being retired, I can survive a breach of professionalism. :)
In all cultures, the most taboo language reflects the cultural taboos. Québec culture was very strongly influenced by the Catholic Church for most of the last few centuries. So the most taboo words are words from the church. So it follows that words that are completely innocuous to us are highly offensive when used as expletives. It cracks me up!
Now to the illustration that I'm still cracking up over. There is an excellent museum here in Trois-Rivières devoted to Québec popular culture. Part of one exhibit is devoted to, sure enough, these swear words which are unique in the French-speaking world. Check out this photo of the exhibit:
I walked around the corner and saw this and started cracking up laughing. This is the unhibited nature of the Québécois! Now I want to spell out an equivalency for you just to illustrate how startling and how hysterical this was. Imagine that you are attending a museum exhibit on American culture. You walk into a room, and there in huge block letters on the wall you read: "Fuck, Shit, Goddammit, Son of a Bitch, Asshole, Dickhead, Jesus Christ." This is exactly what you are looking at in the photo: Québec swear words with that level of offensiveness! They started with "tabarnak," which is the big kahuna of swear words which is why I started my list with "Fuck." Coming out swinging!!
What do they mean literally? In order of the photo, it's "tabernacle" or church; "host" like the communion host or wafer; "ciborium" which is the box that holds the host; "chalice" which is the communion drinking cup; "sacrement" which is the same in English; "viarge" which is "virgin" referring to Mary, the mother of Jesus; and "Christ." Yes, indeed, those are Québec's most taboo swear words.
You do hear people say "Fuck" up here but it has no power to them. They think they're saying something with about the offensiveness level of "damn it."
I wanted to make a funny post after my last super-serious one. I hope you find this as hilarious as I do!
Tuesday, July 9, 2019
the honeymoon is over, the challenges begin ...
I have wonderful friends. Two people checked in on Sunday: "hey, haven't seen any posts from you, all o.k. up there?"
Welllll, let's start with this story ... I found out during a meeting with my advisor today that my academic program for fall is going to be cancelled due to low enrollment. They typically get the majority of their students from China, and due to tensions and problems, no Chinese students will be enrolled. There was something about students from Brazil dropping off, too, but I didn't catch all of that. It's not unusual for me to miss information when someone's talking. I can follow TV and radio news, lectures, etc., because people are trained to speak clearly, but in casual conversation people are more, well, casual. -- especially in my case. Because I speak with confidence (I stop short of saying "I speak well"), people assume I understand everything they're saying. Ha.
I'd been wondering why I hadn't gotten a tuition bill yet. Now I know.
So, my choices:
1. Enroll in classes for francophones. My advisor suggested it. It will be twice as expensive and 1,000,000 times more challenging. I don't know if I'm capable of doing college-level work for native French speakers.
2. The French school has a two-week private tutoring option. Five hours of one-on-one instruction a day. I know one of the instructors who does that and would really enjoy working with him. I wouldn't be able to come on my Canada study permit (like a student visa) since I wouldn't be a full-time student. (UPDATE: Turns out that's not true. I can be a part-time student on a study permit. Whew...) Without the study permit, I would have a six-month time limit after which I would have to come home. (UPDATE: I can renew the study permit. Turns out part-time is o.k. Whew again ...)
3. Cut my losses and come home now.
So there's that.
Plus I've been dealing with plumbing problems in my apartment, specifically a shower that only ran hot water, no cold. And it was HOT. Took a week to resolve that. I was fretting wondering whether I had made myself clear to the landlord what the problem was. I contacted my landlord again yesterday morning and he came right over and fixed it. He thought his plumber had taken care of it. Message to me: don't wait a week next time I have a problem. Plumbing or home problems suck anyway, and layering a language barrier onto that just compounds the stress.
I'm not going to lie: I hit kind of a low before the weekend. The plumbing thing sucked. I went to a hotel for a few days just to get away from it. Even though I'm in (and halfway through) a three-week Road Scholar class with mostly Americans studying French, I'd been feeling a little isolated and questioning my decision to do this. I saw lots of fun photos of family and friends online doing their thing on the Fourth and missed what was apparently a fantastic family gathering. Even though family and friends are only a social media post or a text away, I miss people. I live alone and am happy living like that, but that doesn't mean I want to be alone all the time.
So I made sure to have an awesome weekend. I got out of town and went to the Mauricie national park about a 40-minute drive due north of here. I did that both Saturday and Sunday. Two beautiful days. I took my journal to write in to sort some stuff out, and also took my guitar just to hang out outdoors and play and replay the small list of songs I know (I've only been playing for eight months). Here's where I sat and played for a really long time on Sunday. There is a beautiful small lake behind the gazebo.
There are many beautiful spots in the park which is actually pretty small. It never ceases to amaze me that Canadian national and provincial parks are never, ever, ever crowded.
Then at night I went to the last two nights of the Festivoix music festival. Saturday night I heard a group that is really popular up here, Kaïn (check them out on YouTube). They're billed as folk rock but I'd call it country rock. The crowd was having a blast and so was the band. Everyone recognized all the tunes and was singing along -- except me, but I was having fun watching people have fun! Sunday night, the closing night of the festival, I went to the performance by Jean-Michel Blais, a pianist who accompanies his piano playing with electronic sounds. (Check him out too.) I had my doubts about that before I heard it, but I really liked it. The common thread between the two very different performances was that the performers engaged with the audience a lot and kept expressing how appreciative they were of people's attendance and support. Cool.
So I've come out of the funk I was in. I very, very rarely get in a funk so it was weird. I didn't enjoy that. Well, I guess no one does or it wouldn't be called a funk.
I have no idea how I'm going to resolve the academic problem. I'm not going to decide tonight. It's late and I have the All-Star game on in the background. I'll focus on that for a few innings. The American League is ahead. As it should be. I'll watch baseball for awhile tonight, and tomorrow I'll start figuring out how to play the academic curve ball I've just been thrown. With thought, planning, and a little luck, I'll knock it out of the park.
Welllll, let's start with this story ... I found out during a meeting with my advisor today that my academic program for fall is going to be cancelled due to low enrollment. They typically get the majority of their students from China, and due to tensions and problems, no Chinese students will be enrolled. There was something about students from Brazil dropping off, too, but I didn't catch all of that. It's not unusual for me to miss information when someone's talking. I can follow TV and radio news, lectures, etc., because people are trained to speak clearly, but in casual conversation people are more, well, casual. -- especially in my case. Because I speak with confidence (I stop short of saying "I speak well"), people assume I understand everything they're saying. Ha.
I'd been wondering why I hadn't gotten a tuition bill yet. Now I know.
So, my choices:
1. Enroll in classes for francophones. My advisor suggested it. It will be twice as expensive and 1,000,000 times more challenging. I don't know if I'm capable of doing college-level work for native French speakers.
2. The French school has a two-week private tutoring option. Five hours of one-on-one instruction a day. I know one of the instructors who does that and would really enjoy working with him. I wouldn't be able to come on my Canada study permit (like a student visa) since I wouldn't be a full-time student. (UPDATE: Turns out that's not true. I can be a part-time student on a study permit. Whew...) Without the study permit, I would have a six-month time limit after which I would have to come home. (UPDATE: I can renew the study permit. Turns out part-time is o.k. Whew again ...)
3. Cut my losses and come home now.
So there's that.
Plus I've been dealing with plumbing problems in my apartment, specifically a shower that only ran hot water, no cold. And it was HOT. Took a week to resolve that. I was fretting wondering whether I had made myself clear to the landlord what the problem was. I contacted my landlord again yesterday morning and he came right over and fixed it. He thought his plumber had taken care of it. Message to me: don't wait a week next time I have a problem. Plumbing or home problems suck anyway, and layering a language barrier onto that just compounds the stress.
I'm not going to lie: I hit kind of a low before the weekend. The plumbing thing sucked. I went to a hotel for a few days just to get away from it. Even though I'm in (and halfway through) a three-week Road Scholar class with mostly Americans studying French, I'd been feeling a little isolated and questioning my decision to do this. I saw lots of fun photos of family and friends online doing their thing on the Fourth and missed what was apparently a fantastic family gathering. Even though family and friends are only a social media post or a text away, I miss people. I live alone and am happy living like that, but that doesn't mean I want to be alone all the time.
So I made sure to have an awesome weekend. I got out of town and went to the Mauricie national park about a 40-minute drive due north of here. I did that both Saturday and Sunday. Two beautiful days. I took my journal to write in to sort some stuff out, and also took my guitar just to hang out outdoors and play and replay the small list of songs I know (I've only been playing for eight months). Here's where I sat and played for a really long time on Sunday. There is a beautiful small lake behind the gazebo.
There are many beautiful spots in the park which is actually pretty small. It never ceases to amaze me that Canadian national and provincial parks are never, ever, ever crowded.
Then at night I went to the last two nights of the Festivoix music festival. Saturday night I heard a group that is really popular up here, Kaïn (check them out on YouTube). They're billed as folk rock but I'd call it country rock. The crowd was having a blast and so was the band. Everyone recognized all the tunes and was singing along -- except me, but I was having fun watching people have fun! Sunday night, the closing night of the festival, I went to the performance by Jean-Michel Blais, a pianist who accompanies his piano playing with electronic sounds. (Check him out too.) I had my doubts about that before I heard it, but I really liked it. The common thread between the two very different performances was that the performers engaged with the audience a lot and kept expressing how appreciative they were of people's attendance and support. Cool.
So I've come out of the funk I was in. I very, very rarely get in a funk so it was weird. I didn't enjoy that. Well, I guess no one does or it wouldn't be called a funk.
I have no idea how I'm going to resolve the academic problem. I'm not going to decide tonight. It's late and I have the All-Star game on in the background. I'll focus on that for a few innings. The American League is ahead. As it should be. I'll watch baseball for awhile tonight, and tomorrow I'll start figuring out how to play the academic curve ball I've just been thrown. With thought, planning, and a little luck, I'll knock it out of the park.
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