My Romanian Professor
What are the odds of studying at a Montreal University and having a French professor who's only a few years older than you and... was born in Romania? I couldn't believe it when I saw his name. I'll just have to ask him about his life story at the end :-P. He seems like a very nice guy, although I know for a fact that younger Professors are tougher. Well, it's a Linguistics course, so it can't be that bad ;-). Now I'm really curious about this class.
Showing posts with label French. Show all posts
Showing posts with label French. Show all posts
Tuesday, January 08, 2008
Wednesday, December 13, 2006
Tomorrow Will Always Bring You a Reason to Smile :) ...
... you just have to look (really hard, sometimes) for it. I'm not talking about compensating for the lost "things"; some of them are irreplaceable (and there are others that just seem so at the moment). But there is always hope, there will appear something, as little as it may be, that gives you strength and keeps you going. All you have to do is add these "somethings" up and turn them into an "it" worth remembering or living for.
I just found out that my final grade for the French Literature course is a B-. No, this is not a grade that would please me under different circumstances. I also got a B- in the French Translation course, for instance, and I can say I'm a bit disappointed, I was pretty sure I'd get more than that (it's all good, anyway, I was a bad student this semester... bad, bad, bad student!). It doesn't matter... I finished the most difficult course I've ever taken without moving in the "C" neighborhood. Who am I kidding? I thought I was going to fail this course. I don't know enough French for this level. I didn't prepare for any of my courses the way I should've. I wrote my essays between coffee, cigarettes, pictures and blogging breaks... at night. Yes, it may sound weird, but I'm proud - nevertheless, Ana, the sweetest little girl you'll ever see, corrected my final essay, which helped a lot. I'm not proud of the way I studied for my classes, but of the fact that, despite my low French level, my struggle with the 5 novels I had to read and my despicable attitude towards school this semester, I still got a B-! I stopped caring about grades the past few months, but this... this... it's not about the grade. It's that feeling of going up the hill through a snowstorm... and making it to the top, although you might be somewhat shaken, frozen, call it what you will. You made it! And, on top of that, you don't have to go downhill anymore. You simply know you won't.
I was also informed that my Spain bursary application was approved (yeah, until they see all my grades :D). And it only took them one day! People from Spain, did you hear that?
... you just have to look (really hard, sometimes) for it. I'm not talking about compensating for the lost "things"; some of them are irreplaceable (and there are others that just seem so at the moment). But there is always hope, there will appear something, as little as it may be, that gives you strength and keeps you going. All you have to do is add these "somethings" up and turn them into an "it" worth remembering or living for.
I just found out that my final grade for the French Literature course is a B-. No, this is not a grade that would please me under different circumstances. I also got a B- in the French Translation course, for instance, and I can say I'm a bit disappointed, I was pretty sure I'd get more than that (it's all good, anyway, I was a bad student this semester... bad, bad, bad student!). It doesn't matter... I finished the most difficult course I've ever taken without moving in the "C" neighborhood. Who am I kidding? I thought I was going to fail this course. I don't know enough French for this level. I didn't prepare for any of my courses the way I should've. I wrote my essays between coffee, cigarettes, pictures and blogging breaks... at night. Yes, it may sound weird, but I'm proud - nevertheless, Ana, the sweetest little girl you'll ever see, corrected my final essay, which helped a lot. I'm not proud of the way I studied for my classes, but of the fact that, despite my low French level, my struggle with the 5 novels I had to read and my despicable attitude towards school this semester, I still got a B-! I stopped caring about grades the past few months, but this... this... it's not about the grade. It's that feeling of going up the hill through a snowstorm... and making it to the top, although you might be somewhat shaken, frozen, call it what you will. You made it! And, on top of that, you don't have to go downhill anymore. You simply know you won't.
I was also informed that my Spain bursary application was approved (yeah, until they see all my grades :D). And it only took them one day! People from Spain, did you hear that?
Thursday, October 05, 2006
Isn't It True That the Earth is Rectangular?
Something one of my French teachers (whom I happen to like a lot, actually) said (in French, of course, but I'm not planning on using that language):
"What tenses belong to the indicative mode? Well, all those that we use constantly... present, future, past perfect, past tense, conditional... let me check the "Bescherelle" (a conjugation book)... yeah, that's right."
Am I weird for being extremely bothered by that? Oh, need I mention that I don't get the point of asking such a question during a course of this level? Or the fact that nobody contradicted her? ( not to show off, but I've already done it twice and, although she took it well, I'm not going to push her limits :D )
Something one of my French teachers (whom I happen to like a lot, actually) said (in French, of course, but I'm not planning on using that language):
"What tenses belong to the indicative mode? Well, all those that we use constantly... present, future, past perfect, past tense, conditional... let me check the "Bescherelle" (a conjugation book)... yeah, that's right."
Am I weird for being extremely bothered by that? Oh, need I mention that I don't get the point of asking such a question during a course of this level? Or the fact that nobody contradicted her? ( not to show off, but I've already done it twice and, although she took it well, I'm not going to push her limits :D )
Wednesday, September 27, 2006
5.30 am. I can't take it anymore! With a shaking hand (actually, my whole body is trembling like a leaf as a direct result of the instant coffee and coke I've been having - and, as I said before, I don't usually drink coffee, be it instant or regular, so you can imagine!) I'm browsing an immense amount of sites, trying to escape the burden of writing a literary essay in French!!! Look what I found on LittleBro's blog... mmmm, me likes!
If you only knew how excited people are here (by that I mean Quebecers, I don't know what the Romanians' point of view is) about these Francophony days! Another opportunity for them to wonder how come I didn't learn French back home... urghhhh!!!
Wednesday, September 13, 2006
Idei preconcepute?
La ora asta ar trebui sa termin de citit "Paludes", de André Gide, dar cum lenea si-a facut din nou simtita prezenta (o influenta puternica asupra starii mele are si faptul ca este in limba franceza), am rasfoit cateva blog-uri pe care n-am mai mai poposit pana acum. Am dat de cel al lui zoso, printr-un link de la LittleBro (nu ca LIGHTNING nu l-ar avea, pare a fi un blog foarte popular :) ). Interesant, amuzant, uneori stresant (putin, putintel)... e placut sa-l citesti. Mi-a atras atentia in mod deosebit un post de pe pagina a doua, intitulat axe click, din care am aflat faptul ca Axe e "parfum de tarani". S-a nimerit ca mie sa-mi placa foarte mult Axe, dar chiar nu m-am simtit vreodata taranca din cauza asta (am I in denial? :P ). Nu cred ca voi intelege vreodata pe ce ne bazam cand facem distinctia intre un parfum de tarani si unul de domni, de exemplu. Atata vreme cat cel care-l foloseste face dus in fiecare zi si nu altereaza parfumul cu miasme personale, nu vad nicio problema in a folosi Axe, Denim, Brut, Old Spice sau mai stiu eu ce alt deodorant ii este pe plac. Mi se pare ca acest mod de gandire are legatura cu nasucul unora, intr-adevar, dar nu in ceea ce priveste sensibilitatea, ci altitudinea sa ;). E posibil sa ma insel, evident, si chiar sper sa fie asa.
Postul lui zoso m-a dus cu gandul la cele 8 luni petrecute de mine in Romania in perioada 2003-2004 (nu c-ar avea vreo importanta anii). Chiar daca fusesem avertizata ca nu ar trebui sa spun chiar tot ce am facut eu pe-aici si prin State, eu am hotarat sa spun adevarul, fiind chiar revoltata la gandul ca cineva ar putea avea ceva impotriva diferitelor mele job-uri. Si asa incepu Mirela sa raspunda intrebarii primite de la fiecare cunostinta revazuta, si-anume "Ce faci acolo?", prin a spune ca in New York a muncit in restaurante, iar in Montreal a cules capsuni pentru o vara si acum face curat in case (mi se promisese ca voi avea postul asigurat la intoarcere, deci, teoretic, inca lucram acolo). De la cuvantul "cules" fetele interlocutorilor capatau trasaturi de balada: ochii se mareau, narile vibrau, chipul se-nrosea, mana tremura. Unii erau jenati, nestiind ce replica sa-mi dea si gandindu-se la rusinea adusa familiei :)))), altii chiar ma intrebau cum am putut sa las Romania pentru asa ceva? Dupa cateva experimente de acest gen am devenit mai rezervata, bagam la inaintare faptul c-am lucrat secretara + un fel de contabila intr-un restaurant. Este adevarat ca au fost catorva persoane carora le-am spus cu o placere sadica cu ce m-am ocupat :D . Buuuun, trecem si peste asta.
In Romania nu puteam lucra, deh, n-aveam una, n-aveam alta. Am dat cateva meditatii unor fete deosebite care mi-au ramas foarte dragi. Si totusi, ma plictiseam, nu pot sa stau chiar degeaba. Asa ca mi-a dat prin cap sa ma angajez la tarabe numai ca sa treaca timpul mai usor. Mama, saraca, ar fi vrut sa ma vada afara din casa (in sensul bun, evident), sa am o ocupatie si sa nu mai plang dupa micul meu. Stia ca m-as simti bine sa fac asta, cand eram mica si aveam gradina mergeam cu trei legaturi de ceapa si doua de marar la piata, sa le vand, atat de mult imi placea. Dar imediat a aparut problema "ce-ar spune lumea?". Am impartasit ideea mea catorva persoane si reactia lor m-a convins (din pacate): "Eeee, nu se poate, de ce sa mergi acolo, stai prost cu banii?" sau: "Mirela, te vede lumea, te cunosc atatia (unde era V.I.P.-ul!!), o sa te vorbeasca." Am renuntat la gandul de-a vinde la tarabe, dar tot m-am angajat la o mica sala de Internet. Si pe-acolo au trecut cunoscuti: unii au fost bucurosi sa ma revada si nu s-au preocupat de altceva, altii se cam minunau de "serviciul" meu, dar deja nu imi mai pasa. Intr-o zi a venit un domn in varsta care m-a rugat sa-i transcriu ceva si cat a stat acolo m-a pisat la cap: "Vezi, daca faceai facultate, nu ajungeai sa lucrezi aici!" si alte lucruri de genul asta. Nu m-am obosit sa-i povestesc viata mea, doar am tastat cat de repede am putut ca sa plece odata :P.
Un ultim lucru: nestiind franceza, cand m-am intors in Montreal m-am angajat la un magazin cu produse de $1. Romanii se uitau cam ciudat la mine, dar majoritatea nu spunea nimic enervant, aceptam comentariile cu un zambet si-o eventuala ridicare din umeri. Am retinut o doamna care s-a apucat sa-mi planga de mila: "Vai, mama, aici ai ajuns sa lucrezi?! Pentru asta ai plecat din Romania?". Atunci eram deja studenta, asa ca n-am mai suportat: "Doamna, sunt studenta la Concordia, aici muncesc part-time." (ma simt cam prost c-am facut asta, dar, deh, eram mandra ca doar ce fusesem acceptata). "Oooo, asa da, bravo!" I s-a luminat instantaneu chipul :P. Au mai existat destule incidente de acest gen, dar postul acesta e, din nou, mult prea lung.
Am pornit de la blog-ul lui zoso... am ajuns aici. Nu vreau sa fac alte comentarii, e deja prea mult si cred ca se intelege care este opinia mea din ceea ce-am scris mai sus.
P.S. Daca tot am vorbit despre blog-ul lui zoso: http://zoso.rockmania.net/
La ora asta ar trebui sa termin de citit "Paludes", de André Gide, dar cum lenea si-a facut din nou simtita prezenta (o influenta puternica asupra starii mele are si faptul ca este in limba franceza), am rasfoit cateva blog-uri pe care n-am mai mai poposit pana acum. Am dat de cel al lui zoso, printr-un link de la LittleBro (nu ca LIGHTNING nu l-ar avea, pare a fi un blog foarte popular :) ). Interesant, amuzant, uneori stresant (putin, putintel)... e placut sa-l citesti. Mi-a atras atentia in mod deosebit un post de pe pagina a doua, intitulat axe click, din care am aflat faptul ca Axe e "parfum de tarani". S-a nimerit ca mie sa-mi placa foarte mult Axe, dar chiar nu m-am simtit vreodata taranca din cauza asta (am I in denial? :P ). Nu cred ca voi intelege vreodata pe ce ne bazam cand facem distinctia intre un parfum de tarani si unul de domni, de exemplu. Atata vreme cat cel care-l foloseste face dus in fiecare zi si nu altereaza parfumul cu miasme personale, nu vad nicio problema in a folosi Axe, Denim, Brut, Old Spice sau mai stiu eu ce alt deodorant ii este pe plac. Mi se pare ca acest mod de gandire are legatura cu nasucul unora, intr-adevar, dar nu in ceea ce priveste sensibilitatea, ci altitudinea sa ;). E posibil sa ma insel, evident, si chiar sper sa fie asa.
Postul lui zoso m-a dus cu gandul la cele 8 luni petrecute de mine in Romania in perioada 2003-2004 (nu c-ar avea vreo importanta anii). Chiar daca fusesem avertizata ca nu ar trebui sa spun chiar tot ce am facut eu pe-aici si prin State, eu am hotarat sa spun adevarul, fiind chiar revoltata la gandul ca cineva ar putea avea ceva impotriva diferitelor mele job-uri. Si asa incepu Mirela sa raspunda intrebarii primite de la fiecare cunostinta revazuta, si-anume "Ce faci acolo?", prin a spune ca in New York a muncit in restaurante, iar in Montreal a cules capsuni pentru o vara si acum face curat in case (mi se promisese ca voi avea postul asigurat la intoarcere, deci, teoretic, inca lucram acolo). De la cuvantul "cules" fetele interlocutorilor capatau trasaturi de balada: ochii se mareau, narile vibrau, chipul se-nrosea, mana tremura. Unii erau jenati, nestiind ce replica sa-mi dea si gandindu-se la rusinea adusa familiei :)))), altii chiar ma intrebau cum am putut sa las Romania pentru asa ceva? Dupa cateva experimente de acest gen am devenit mai rezervata, bagam la inaintare faptul c-am lucrat secretara + un fel de contabila intr-un restaurant. Este adevarat ca au fost catorva persoane carora le-am spus cu o placere sadica cu ce m-am ocupat :D . Buuuun, trecem si peste asta.
In Romania nu puteam lucra, deh, n-aveam una, n-aveam alta. Am dat cateva meditatii unor fete deosebite care mi-au ramas foarte dragi. Si totusi, ma plictiseam, nu pot sa stau chiar degeaba. Asa ca mi-a dat prin cap sa ma angajez la tarabe numai ca sa treaca timpul mai usor. Mama, saraca, ar fi vrut sa ma vada afara din casa (in sensul bun, evident), sa am o ocupatie si sa nu mai plang dupa micul meu. Stia ca m-as simti bine sa fac asta, cand eram mica si aveam gradina mergeam cu trei legaturi de ceapa si doua de marar la piata, sa le vand, atat de mult imi placea. Dar imediat a aparut problema "ce-ar spune lumea?". Am impartasit ideea mea catorva persoane si reactia lor m-a convins (din pacate): "Eeee, nu se poate, de ce sa mergi acolo, stai prost cu banii?" sau: "Mirela, te vede lumea, te cunosc atatia (unde era V.I.P.-ul!!), o sa te vorbeasca." Am renuntat la gandul de-a vinde la tarabe, dar tot m-am angajat la o mica sala de Internet. Si pe-acolo au trecut cunoscuti: unii au fost bucurosi sa ma revada si nu s-au preocupat de altceva, altii se cam minunau de "serviciul" meu, dar deja nu imi mai pasa. Intr-o zi a venit un domn in varsta care m-a rugat sa-i transcriu ceva si cat a stat acolo m-a pisat la cap: "Vezi, daca faceai facultate, nu ajungeai sa lucrezi aici!" si alte lucruri de genul asta. Nu m-am obosit sa-i povestesc viata mea, doar am tastat cat de repede am putut ca sa plece odata :P.
Un ultim lucru: nestiind franceza, cand m-am intors in Montreal m-am angajat la un magazin cu produse de $1. Romanii se uitau cam ciudat la mine, dar majoritatea nu spunea nimic enervant, aceptam comentariile cu un zambet si-o eventuala ridicare din umeri. Am retinut o doamna care s-a apucat sa-mi planga de mila: "Vai, mama, aici ai ajuns sa lucrezi?! Pentru asta ai plecat din Romania?". Atunci eram deja studenta, asa ca n-am mai suportat: "Doamna, sunt studenta la Concordia, aici muncesc part-time." (ma simt cam prost c-am facut asta, dar, deh, eram mandra ca doar ce fusesem acceptata). "Oooo, asa da, bravo!" I s-a luminat instantaneu chipul :P. Au mai existat destule incidente de acest gen, dar postul acesta e, din nou, mult prea lung.
Am pornit de la blog-ul lui zoso... am ajuns aici. Nu vreau sa fac alte comentarii, e deja prea mult si cred ca se intelege care este opinia mea din ceea ce-am scris mai sus.
P.S. Daca tot am vorbit despre blog-ul lui zoso: http://zoso.rockmania.net/
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
