Bonjour/Allo

Last night, I took the Metro to the east side of Montreal. After a hiccup with my connection, I finally arrived at the Villa Maria station, where I began the short walk up the western slopes of Mount Royal to meet with two Canadians. After a while, the conversation drifted to my research for my dissertation. After I explained my interests, one of my hosts asked if I had done any work at the Bibliothèque et Archives nationales du Québec, or BAnQ. I explained that I had not yet done any work there, but I hoped to spend a good deal of time there in the upcoming semester to explore their holdings. My host, who had some familiarity with the institution, had some advice for me.

“Don’t risk blowing your first impression with them,” he warned me. “Make sure that you address the first person you see in French, even if you bungle your French. With any luck you’ll make it through and they’ll be able to help you. Or else maybe they’ll speak English, or find someone who speaks English if they can’t help. In any case, you don’t want to start off by speaking English. You can’t risk putting them off like that in case they decide they don’t want to prioritize helping you. And if you stay around here, definitely don’t tell them that, even if you can converse with them in French.”

His advice to me stemmed from one of the more contentious aspects of Quebec’s culture and society: the uneasy tension between the Francophone and Anglophone communities in the Province of Quebec. I sat down with my hosts in the town of Westmount; technically part of the city of Montreal, but legally distinct from the municipal government. In 2002, the community of Westmount had, after a bitter struggle, been merged into the city of Montreal. Opponents of the merger had claimed that Westmount had a special status as an Anglophone enclave and therefore should not be merged into the Francophone city of Montreal. But in 2004, after the government had changed, the town voted to remove itself from the municipality of Montreal. After the vote to demerge, Montrealers remained bitter about the primarily Anglophone community’s seeming contempt for their Francophone neighbors. The conflict over language in this case also masked other socio-economic tensions. The area encompassed by Westmount encompasses some of the wealthiest neighborhoods in Montreal–and historically some of the most affluent in all of Canada. Their departure from Montreal entailed a substantial loss of tax revenue for the city. But the conflict played out in terms of linguistic divisions.

The cultural divide between Anglophones and Francophones in Quebec extends far back in Canada’s history. After the British conquest of New France, which included the territory of Quebec, in 1763, a small contingent of Anglophone merchants and settlers began to trickle into the French-speaking region around Quebec. After the American Revolution, the trickle turned into a flood as Loyalists fleeing the new American republic fled to British Canada. The British Crown split Quebec into two provinces in 1791, creating Lower Canada, a primarily Francophone region, and Upper Canada, inhabited by an Anglophone majority. After failed rebellions in both Upper and Lower Canada in the late 1830s, the British reunited the two regions as the Province of Canada, until the Constitution Act of 1867 created Ontario and Quebec, more or less as we know them today.

Section 133 of the 1867 Constitution Act set forth both English and French as the official languages of the both the Canadian Parliament and the Parliament of Quebec. Industrialization in the late nineteenth and early twentieth century heralded in a wave of Anglophone immigration to Quebec, especially in the urban center of Montreal. English became the language of business here, even as the majority of the population of the city remained Francophone. Concern over the growing provenance of the English language and the marginalization of Francophone Canadians in the politics and business world of what they considered “their” province led the nationalist government in 1977 to pass the Charter of the French Language, commonly known as Law 101 or loi cent et un. This bill and its provisions made French the sole official language of the Province, requiring that all business in the Province be conducted in French. Further provisions required that all signage, advertisement, branding, etc. be in French (as a concession to companies doing business throughout Canada, the law did not forbid English to appear alongside French, so long as the French had equal or greater prominence as compared to the English text).

Likewise, French became the sole language of education for most of the residents of the Province. In order for their children to receive an education at an English-language school in the Province, residents (to this day) have to demonstrate that they themselves received an education in an English-language institution. For example, if both of one’s parents grew up in Anglophone households, considered English as their first language, raised their own children in English, but nevertheless attended a French school when they were young, their children, despite being Anglophones, would be forbidden from attending an Anglophone school. My hosts—one native Anglophone and one native Francophone—explained to me that because they could prove that they both attended an Anglophone school for some time when they were young allowed them to send their own children to an Anglophone school for a year so that, in the future, their children would have the credentials to send their children (my hosts grandchildren) to an Anglophone school should they choose to.

According to younger residents of Quebec, however, the animosity between the Anglophones and Francophones has receded in recent years. According to a women in her twenties with whom I spoke, young Francophones have embraced the multicultural status of their home—at least in Montreal. The further I venture outside of Montreal or Quebec City, she warned me, the less likely I would find fluent speakers of English. Now that the impetus behind the separatist movement has died down, she suggested, much of the animosity has also abated, though some would have little sympathy for a visitor with no French language skills. But, as the tension between residents of Westmount and the rest of Montreal demonstrates, when the linguistic issue becomes entangled with other issues, it can still spark bitter animosity.

Íslenskur matur (Icelandic food)

After being in Reykjavík for two weeks, I needed to try some traditional Icelandic food, so I headed over to Café Loki – conveniently located on Lokastígur or Loki’s lane.

Café Loki - a great place to try traditional Icelandic food!

Café Loki.

I ordered two traditional Icelandic dishes – skyr and harðfiskur. Skyr is something I’d had before. Similar in taste and texture to Greek yogurt, fruit-flavored skyr is in all of the grocery stores, and it quickly became a favorite of mine after I arrived in Iceland. At Café Loki, however, I tried skyr the traditional way: plain, in a pool of cream, and with sugar sprinkled on top.

Delicious skyr!

Delicious skyr!

I asked the chef – an Icelander named Bertha – why skyr was so popular. She explained that skyr is popular now because it is very healthy; it’s lacking in fat and sugar but chock full of protein. It’s also extremely filling; a single dish of skyr can substitute for an entire meal. Bertha also explained that skyr has been popular in Iceland since the island’s settlement in the 9th century. Skyr is easily made and has a long shelf life, which was useful for the settlers. Additionally and surprisingly, skyr is not a kind of yogurt but actually a kind of cheese (yogurt is made by the fermentation of milk, while cheese is made by the acidification of milk).

After the skyr I had some harðfiskur, which is essentially dried fish; Bertha compared it to beef jerky. It’s usually eaten covered in lots of butter.

Harðfiskur.

Harðfiskur – Icelandic fish jerky.

Harðfiskur með smjöri - Icelandic fish jerky with butter.

Harðfiskur með smjöri – Icelandic fish jerky with butter.

Harðfiskur has a mild flavor almost overpowered by the butter and is very chewy. Bertha said that, like skyr, harðfiskur also dates back to the settlers and was another protein-laden food with a long shelf-life and is still quite popular in Iceland. Interestingly, Bertha also said that harðfiskur is often given to Icelandic children as candy or treats. So much healthier than the candy I’m used to!

Café Loki was so fantastic that I went back for more Icelandic food later and this meal was also delicious! Well, all except for the rotten shark; it tasted, as my friend in the program Courtney Cook said, “like nail polish remover smells.” Even some Icelanders, like Bertha, are not fans of such fermented meats. But other than that Icelandic food is frábært!

Me eating traditional Icelandic cuisine at Café Loki - before I tried the rotten shark.

Me eating traditional Icelandic cuisine at Café Loki – before I tried the rotten shark!

Québec and la Fête Nationale

On 24 June every year, Quebecers celebrate Saint-Jean-Baptiste Day, the fête nationale du Québec and, in the Catholic calendar, the feast day of the Nativity of Saint John the Baptist.   As a statutory holiday, most residents of Quebec have off of work to celebrate, and grand festivities occur in most of the major cities and towns of Quebec.

The origins of the holiday stretch back to Quebec’s history as a colony of France. The Catholic feast day had historically been a popular holiday in France, and the French settlers who came to Canada in the seventeenth century brought the celebration with them. As a Catholic feast day (Catholicism being the official religion of the French colony), celebrants engaged in both religious and secular festivities. Residents of the colony attended mass in celebration of the feast day, and often constructed large bonfires to continue the celebrations into the evening.

The holiday took on new meaning after the British took over the colony in 1763. In the 1830s, the festival gained new significance as a celebration of French-Canadian culture and its distinctiveness within the British colony. In the years following the failed Lower Canada Rebellion of 1838, in which French-Canadian patriotic sentiment had been rallied to first support political reform in the colony to favor French-Canadians and later armed insurrection to force reform, the celebrations became much more muted. They grew again in size and popularity in the late nineteenth century, emerging as a celebration of French-Canadian culture, tied closely to the religious character of the holiday, since many French-Canadians remained pious Roman Catholics. In the early twentieth century, the holiday acquired new dimensions as Pope Pius declared Saint John the Baptist the patron saint of French Canadians in 1908 and the legislature of Quebec declared the day a legal holiday.

In the 1970s, during the Quiet Revolution in Quebec, a period of intense social and political changed marked by profound secularization and the growth of intense nationalism, the holiday took on a new, highly political charge. The Lieutenant Governor of Quebec, the Queen’s direct representative in the province, made the holiday a statutory holiday in 1977. Along with the secularization of the Province in the 1960s and 1970s, nationalist and separatist overtones replaced the religious significance of the holiday. The holiday transformed into a semi-official rallying point for nationalist movements, with festivities sometimes punctuated with political protest in favor of Quebecois sovereignty or independence.

Today, the holiday has reemerged as a celebration of French-Canadian culture. Official festivities occur throughout the province, highlighting francophone artists, performers, and cultural figures. Major cities in the province often host parades where the provinces official colors, blue and white, and the Fleurdelisé, the flag of Quebec, feature prominently in the parade and amongst parade-goers. While the celebrations feature primarily Francophone performers, the holiday’s status as a legal holiday means that both francophone and Anglophone Quebecers celebrate, and recently the holiday’s official organizing body have focused on inclusivity as a theme, recognizing the multicultural nature of Quebec’s society today. Yet, if asked, many still take pride in the holiday as a distinctive Quebecois holiday, especially given its timing just prior to the federal holiday of Canada Day on 1 July.   Since provincial government officially recognizes the holiday, and supports the organization which plan and coordinate festivities, official accounts of the holiday and the public perception of the holiday often align. The current theme of a society “distinct, yet accepting” celebrated in the holiday coincides with how many in Quebec see themselves. Those who I spoke to agreed with this account for the most part, but also emphasized that it was a day where they could take pride in being Quebecois and having preserved their distinct culture within Canada.

 

Goethe-Institut Week 2

At this point I have been studying at the Goethe-Institut Berlin for two weeks. Although I am still on holiday, the intensity of life is comparable to any day at Notre Dame, being strictly compartmented into morning German classes at Goethe-Institut, afternoon piano practice at Steinway (I am a music major), (from now) evening study at the Berlin State Library, and weekend cultural explorations including organized cultural events organized by Goethe Institut. Due to the highly developed public transportation system in Berlin, everyday routine has been efficient; due to a surprising lack of access to Internet, I was paradoxically free from many distractions.

At the placement test of Goethe Institut I have been placed into C1 under the Common European Framework of Reference for Languages, meaning I am at the lower lever of the advanced level. The result of my written test and my oral response at the interview showed my area most in need of improvement – Vocabulary. Due to a limited vocabulary, I could not grasp the subtlety of meaning in some texts, and cannot express my true personality in normal conversations. The interviewer suggested wide reading as the best way of accumulating a large vocabulary. Indeed, I recall so many times when I am in a German bookstore and flip through books related to my interests, frustrated that my reading was hindered significantly because I had to look up new words from time to time. How wonderful it would be, I thought, if I possessed a large vocabulary, so that I could read about Wagner’s life, Schiller’s poems, and German history in their original!

As it turned out, vocabulary is a common problem in my class. In order to improve our vocabulary and familiarize us German journalism, our teacher has been guiding us to read a newspaper article daily. Everyone needs to buy a newspaper and read an article from it of interest, look up all the new words and present the central content to class the next day. I have been reading American presidentship election, dispute in China southern sea, Rigaer Street demonstration in Berlin, Attack in Nice etc. all in German, and I found this method very helpful, since reading provides vocabulary learning with a meaningful context to help us memorize the words. Recalling my earlier days of English learning, I remember I was similarly driven by a desire to read about music in English. In those days I was reading The Unanswered Question by Leonard Bernstein, and I was reading extremely slowly, but learned hundreds of words from it.

Other areas of the class are mostly concerning topic-oriented discussions, and the vocabulary and grammar highlights from the textbook chapters. I am glad that today we have a new teacher, who not only has perfect pronunciation, but also pays great attention to the nicety of language by constantly correcting our words into more authentic German expressions. Along with this method come collocations, idioms, and word usages. Besides coursework, I am self-working on a German grammar book, because I firmly believe that the factor that really elevates one’s command of language is Grammar. Without advance in grammar, one’s linguistic sophistication would always stay at the same level, no matter how fluent one sounds. Again, I recall the milestone in my English learning was the summer of 2012, when I read through an Oxford Grammar book. I want to do the same this summer, this time Hueber instead of Oxford.

Xi’an

This past weekend we had Friday off from class as a short mid term break after we took the midterm on Thursday. It was really nice not to think about our intensive studies and experience a different city other than Beijing. We took a slow sleeper train on the way there Thursday night so we started our busy sightseeing schedule Friday morning. The first thing we did after eating lunch and quickly visiting another university there was go see the terracotta army, what Xi’an is most famous for.

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I didn’t realize that the warriors were only discovered in the 1970s but have been in existence for over 2000 years. I was also surprised to find out that there are over 6000 warriors and it took about 40 years to build all of them. That night we also went and saw a performance of the famous poem 长恨歌 about an emperor in the Tang dynasty’s love story. It was cool because this story took place at the place where the performance was at. It was a very high tech performance and a great way to end our first day in Xi’an.

On Saturday we first went to the Xi’an city wall where we were able to ride bikes for a couple hours around the whole thing. The wall is quite tall so it was nice to see the city from a higher perspective. Luckily the weather was great the whole weekend we were there which was another nice break from the seemingly endless pollution of Beijing.

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We then went to this Xi’an Muslim street that was filled with street vendors and street shops that was similar to the pearl market but more outside.

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That afternoon and the next morning we went to the small and wild goose pagoda respectively. Our tour guide there told us that the pagodas were built after Buddhists in India prayed during a famine and wild geese fell from the sky for them to eat. The small wild goose pagoda had a museum at its site and the big goose pagoda was surrounded by Buddhist temples with active monks practicing there. As for the food in Xi’an I overall enjoyed it but they had some foods distinct to Xi’an. One of them was where when we got to the restaurant we each had our own circle of bread like food (don’t know how else to describe it) and we had to break it into little pieces where they then proceeded to make it into a soupy noodle dish.

My time in China is flying by and these past 4 weeks have definitely been some to remember.

 

 

A Thing Called Life in Japan- 5

It could be called fatigue. Mental exhaustion. The downward tug of existing at all. Without getting too lost in the melancholic, I will simply say that the past week was a tough one. Every day in Japan is a special experience, but a simultaneously tiring one that asks a lot from a student of language; attention is raised on all fronts, to not only meet challeges of communication but also lifestyle. Couple the “always on” mindset with daily, formal classes and it is easy to become mired in a state of mind that is unproductive, not only to learn but to treat relationships with the focus they deserve.

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Thus, I was challenged last week–personally challenged–and while I have come out on the other end with a level of positivity for the final week ahead of me, it was not without some contemplation. And a long weekend.
Necessarily, my language competence took a hit. Reading comprehension was consistent during my slump, but as I found myself talking less, when I got involved in conversations, I was less than eloquent. I like to think of the language-speaking mind as a machine, with many shifting parts and connecting wires. When one talks less, the parts of the machine are still present, still functional, but they have been powered off. They are cool to the touch and and need quite a bit of work to get back to their peak output.
So several times in the past week, I was not operating at “peak output.” My linguistic mind was cool to the touch. As I took notice of this challenge, I also noticed how easily crippling it could become–the longer the machine rests, the more it will need to be functional again.

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No matter how intimidating, conversations are essential to sustain speaking ability. It sounds obvious, and it is, but it is an easily forgettable fact when you feel burdened. Several times this week, I was intimidated, and honestly failed to meet my challenges. But, as the trite saying goes, one may lose the battle but win the war. I am going to stop mixing metaphors now.
As I mentioned, this weekend was a long one, thanks to Ocean Day (海の日、うみのひ, umee no hii). I used the time to focus and reflect on where I had been–mentally–and what I could do from there. And I had just the experience to facilitate this reflection.

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On Sunday, I went with a friend and this friend’s hostfather to a place called Shirayama in Toyama Prefecture. Shirayama is a mountain village that has been preserved in a very traditional state. For example, all the houses bear straw roofs that are actually cycled to maintain the tradition. Various agricultural tools and methods, silkworm production, and rice fields (tanbo) can be seen. The village is fun (though, and I say this ironically, filled with tourists).

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Surrounded by the immensity of Toyama’s mountains, so shrouded by clouds that you believe they could stretch upward forever, spending time examining a slice of Japanese history, and speaking exclusively Japanese while doing so, was the exact kind of recentering I needed.

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I am going forward now not only with more confidence for the final week, but with the reminder that learning a language is going to be exhaustive, and sometimes you might wonder if you can truly improve. The answer to such inner strife is to live. Language is so many things, composed of a people’s lifestyles and customs and thought. The will to expose yourself, and to be involved with the people around you, is both simple and essential.

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Joshua Kuiper

カイパーヨシュア

Excursion to St. Petersburg – 3

The Journey. The trip to St. Petersburg was my first experience with an overnight train. We were placed in compartments of 4 people. For the most part, we were placed with members from our study abroad program, but one compartment had a pair of Russians, whom we visited and became acquainted with to practice some niceties in Russian. Each compartment came equipped with a little goodie bag of Russian snacks such as pastries and Chudo, the “miracle yogurt”. We initially struggled with stowing our bags below the beds because the bed became locked in the upward position, but a kind gentleman in the compartment next door was able to explain to us what needed to be done. The trip from Moscow to St. Petersburg was approximately 9 hours, so we had plenty of time to sleep and stare out the windows at the sights (as the “white nights” allowed us to see the surrounding countryside even very late at night the more we neared St. Petersburg).

First Day. Upon arriving, we hit the ground running with a bus tour of the city. The tour took us through a rapid-fire introduction to the most famous attractions, from the Winter Palace to the Church of the Savior on Spilled Blood, both of which are pictured below. The architecture of St. Petersburg has a significantly more European influence, as Peter the Great loved Europe and brought back many traditions and customs from his travels to the West.

IMG_5154Spilled Blood

Second Day. After a restful night in our hostel, the group was ready to take on the Hermitage Museum located in the Winter Palace. This is one of the largest collections of art and cultural history in the world and was begun by Katherine the Great’s private collection and has expanded significantly, with a new Modern Art building that we unfortunately did not have time to visit. The pieces range from Imperial Russian to Ancient Egyptian (there was even a mummy!). Beyond that, we explored the city and were able to take a closer look at some of the monuments highlighted by the previous day’s tour. A major difference between Moscow and St. Petersburg is the degree to which the Metro is utilized. As I’ve iterated in a prior post, the Moscow Metro is a thing of beauty. Not only are the stations immaculate, it is perfectly planned to streamline commuting. It is impossible to imagine moving around Moscow without the assistance of the Metro. St. Petersburg, on the other hand, has a rather cumbersome Metro. There are fewer stations, thus it takes longer to find a Metro entrance and it is less convenient to take to your destination because the sights are rarely near the stations. Because St. Petersburg was built on swampland, their metro is very deep underground – as the builders had to take the wet ground into account. Thus, the resulting trip up the escalator from the train to the outside world seems endless.

Third Day. On our final day in Europe’s 3rd largest city, we decided to check out Kunstkamera. Peter the Great established this museum in 1727 and it is the oldest anthropological museum in Russia. While most levels contain artifacts typical of a museum, there is one unique chamber. This is the chamber that houses Peter the Great’s collection of “monsters”. He was fascinated by anomalies in the human form and acquired a store of human children with various defects. These specimens were preserved in ethanol and placed on display in the original museum with the goal of debunking the view that malformations resulted from “the evil eye” or sorcery. Below, is a display case with part of the Siamese Twin collection. After the Museum, we climbed the 262 steps of St. Isaac’s Cathedral to the observation tower, where one could see a 360º view of St. Petersburg. Although climbing the spiral stairs was dizzying (and a little terrifying due to the lack of handrails), the view (shown below) was definitely worthwhile as a farewell to the city before the overnight train back home.

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“If you do not change direction, you may end up where you are headed.”

One month down.
One semester worth of material down
One month until I’m back in a country with normal mayonnaise.

Now that I squared away my complaint about food last week, time to move on to a new complaint:
I am way ruder than I mean to be.

Although it’s completely acceptable to trample any stranger to board the subways in China, somehow I am still not acclimated to doing so. I couldn’t tell how many times store clerks or waiters have laughed at my attempts to soften the bluntness of requests. In particular, responding with “对不起“ meaning “Sorry?” as a substitute for “excuse me?” has garnered some particularly weird faces. Talking with my professors has been mildly better in this regard, given they understand exactly the range of what I know how to express and the areas of conversation that I discuss with them I can say more delicately. Imagine that: the people paid to make sense of my crawling-paced words are the only ones that understand me.

On a more serious, positive note, the program’s Ye Laoshi commented on the improvement of my tones on the bus to Xi’an for a weekend excursion. As the part of the language that I find by far the most frustrating, I was over the moon to hear this compliment. For the unacquainted, in the Chinese language the same pronunciation can have several different meanings depending on the pitch and rising intonations with no real parallel in the English language. To make light of this crucial part of speaking Chinese, I’ll often texts friend at home things like “Ni ai ma ma ma de ma fan ma ma?” a likely grammatically incorrect sentence where the word ma can mean horse, mother, scolding, troublesome, or indicate the sentence is a question. Or to put it in perspective, almost the exact opposite of the urban legend saying the eskimos have thousands of words for “snow.” Each one Chinese word seems to have thousands of meanings. The professors make sure to iron out the problems in our tones during the daily one-on-one sessions, after the first of which the frustration of correcting my tones drove my to run a 10K immediately after to unwind. I hate running. Even after you’ve memorized the most challenging vocabulary and successfully tackled the most seemingly inverted grammar structures, if you neglect your tones your sentence is wrong and completely incomprehensible. Today I confidently answered a question in class with a remark on the implications of a global dependency on oil on the economies of the Middle East, as well as mentioning the rising tensions between China and Japan over the trivial Senkaku Islands, but in the level-voiced quick confidence left my response void of meaning.

 

Rounding Out My German Skills

In terms of my studies at the Goethe Institut, the past two weeks have been my best so far, which is perhaps why I have not posted in a while. I am now in an A2.2 course, which means—according to the Common European Framework of Reference for Langauges that Goethe Institut follows—that I am an advanced beginner. If my first month here was about getting my footing in a language I had studied but not had much practice speaking, the second month so far has been about consolidating what I’ve learned into a more well rounded set of skills. I’ve really appreciated the encouragement of the new instructor I had for the first two weeks of this course, who constantly reminded us that our classroom study will mean nothing if we do not also seek out contact with Muttersprachler, native speakers. This was a helpful nudge at a point in the summer when it would be easy to fall into the basic routines I’ve established and not push myself further. So I’ve continued to initiate conversations and try to throw myself into the daily situations I encounter. My favorite moment from the past two weeks was when an older German woman waiting at the light rail station with me asked what train I was waiting for, which led to a longer conversation about what I was in Germany. We were in fact waiting for the same train, and it was a delight to talk with her during our ride.

Besides continuing to practice speaking, I’ve sensed a significant improvement in my ability to write German during the past two weeks, something we did not practice much in my first course. As an English PhD student, it is especially satisfying to begin learning how to express myself in writing. As opposed to the improvisational nature of conversation, writing allows for time to think carefully about how to say something, and polish what you’ve written. For a language like German that has many moving pieces that all need to correspond to make a guten deutschen sentence, having a little extra time to think is especially helpful. Whether writing a paragraph about a topic in class, or composing simple emails to the German people I’m in contact with, being able to step back and look at what I’ve written, tangible evidence of my learning, has been an encouraging experience during my second course at Goethe Institut.

With only two weeks of coursework left I am hoping to finish well by putting as much effort as I can into my remaining classes. While I am reading and comprehending more German than I have all summer, I need to give more intentional time to translating academic texts that Goethe Institut has not exposed me too. When I get back to Notre Dame this fall I will be taking an “German for Advanced Research” course, so returning my attention more explicitly back to translation work will help me to transition from the more practical focus I’ve had in Germany this summer. Even though my time here has been wonderful, I’m starting to look forward to heading home in a few weeks.

Le jeu commence

Hey everybody! Thanks for joining me. My name is Kyle So, and this is the end of my first week in Brest, France studying at C.I.E.L. Bretagne. How’s it going you ask? Well…

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That dear friends, is the ocean

First things first, the weather in Brittany is absolutely gorgeous. It’s been a sunny 70 degrees since I’ve arrived, and I even wear pants instead of shorts most days (except when hiking of course). In short (*bad dum tss*), it’s a rather welcome change from the ridiculousness of 100 degrees, 100% humidity back home in Virginia. Not to mention that my school is a stone’s throw away from the Atlantic Ocean, so I’ve been experiencing a great nautical view each day.

As for my host family, I’m living in the quaint suburb of Le Relecq-Kerhuon with a family of five (the two parents, three girls), so it’s a full house if you will. And from when they first welcomed me into their home, I learned that they’re some of the nicest people. I’ll be honest, I had some fears of entering a situation where the family didn’t like me (or more importantly my humor), but that doesn’t seem to be the case as far as I can tell. Instead, they happily made sure I had everything I needed from lamps, extra pillows, etc, kept me extremely full with big meals plus snacks, and even laughed at my numerous puns/jokes; there’s not much more that I could want.

On a less excitable note, I realized from the get-go that my oral communication was not at its best. I thought I was in the clear coming home from the rail station with my host mom, as I was answering her various small-talk questions with authority.

Where you from? Boom, Washington D.C. metropolitan area in the state of Virginia.

How was your train ride? Bam, just fine thank you, a tad warm because there was no AC, keep em coming.

And so it went the car ride home. I thought, à la George Lopez, “I got this !!”

Then the reality of my situation became apparent at the dinner table. I discovered then how lucidly and more importantly, how slowly my professors at ND had spoken in class. We sat at the table, then suddenly Jesus Mary Joseph! everyone’s zooming by at a bazillion miles, excuse me kilometers, per hour in French. Meanwhile, I’m left there, mouth agape, looking like a fool, and desperately trying to follow any line of conversation. In an instant I became the uncouth American abroad, clumsily trying to express my thoughts in a foreign tongue. This wasn’t all bad by the way, as it left plenty of time to eat all their delicious food. Nonetheless, it was very humbling, as I could only really talk sporadically, or when they addressed me. It has gotten enormously better since then (to be fair I started with a low bar), but with my relatively poor hearing and the rapidity of native Frenchmen in conversation, I have to be completely focused to maintain comprehension.

The entrance to my school, C.I.E.L. Bretagne

Given my struggling debut at home, I thought that I might experience a similar stumble out of the gates at school.  Thankfully, I discovered that I was a bit more comfortable in the classroom. At C.I.E.L. Bretagne, they place students enrolled in the intensive course (20 hrs/week) based on their level, no matter how long you’re there or where your from. I for example, am in a class with six other Americans, an Englishman, one Swiss man, and a Spaniard. Thus, you learn similar things but you may not move up as much in difficulty depending on the length of your stay, as you increase after each week (with my stay being longer than most, this meant I would progress further than some of the folks I started with). Happily, I found the format of the class to be much like the one I just took at ND (props to Mme Escoda-Risto), so I was ready to learn. To summarize the week, we solidified and expanded upon my rhetorical foundation in French (almost exclusively the more difficult stuff I had just learned), but I also was learning many new things, most especially in the realm of  vocabulary and pronunciation. To conclude, its been a gradual process overall thus far, but I expected as much with the culture shock, the rust with my French (I haven’t used it much since I left ND) and heading back to school after being on break. Once I am back in the swing of things, I fully expect my difficulties to diminish, and my growth in French to thrive.

And that’s all I have to say about that. One Week down, six more to go, the time is just flying by! Tune in next week to hear about a local and culturally important holiday, oh la la.