Thursday, March 26, 2009
A perfect day
I had quite a bit of reading to do for tomorrow, but I wanted to get out of the house since I didn't have any class today. I spent the day at the Louvre, reading and wandering around the exhibits whenever I needed a break. I learned about the EU's agriculture policies while sitting next to the tablet of Hammurabi's Code. I treated myself to lunch in a cafe at the museum and had tea and a chocolate muffin later in the afternoon. It was such a peaceful, relaxing day. Wonderful, exactly what I needed.
Tuesday, March 24, 2009
Bouleverser
"Bouleverser" is a really great verb. We don't have an exact translation in English; the closest we can get is "to move deeply," "to overwhelm," or "to turn upside-down". I would hazard a guess that every foreign exchange student in France has probably felt bouleversé at some point. Before I explain the events of today that led to this profound realization, a (hopefully) brief recap of the past week:
Last weekend, my good friend from middle school arrived from Florence to spend her spring break in Paris. It's hard to describe what it felt like to see such a familiar face in such a foreign (albeit increasingly familiar and certainly beloved) place. Simply put, it was weird, but very very nice! We then embarked on a whirlwind tour of Paris: the Jardin du Luxembourg, the Pantheon, the Marché Mouffetard, the Jardin des Plantes, the Mosquée de Paris, Notre-Dame, the Moulin Rouge, the Eiffel Tower, Place des Vosges and the Marais district, the Louvre, etc. Due to my classes and other commitments, I wasn't able to spend as much time with B as I would have liked, but she was traveling with other friends anyway so it worked out well.
On Monday night, I went to the theater with one of my host sisters and her boyfriend/husband/partner/still haven't figured this one out. It was a comedy called "Exercices de style"...and it was funny! If I say so myself, I was impressed with how much I was able to understand. Some elements of humor (physical comedy, facial expressions, etc.) transcend language, but others are inherent within it. I once heard someone say that you know you have mastered a language when you are able to make someone laugh -- and not due to your mistakes. Anyway, the point of the story is that the show was incredibly funny, and I had a wonderful time in great company. My host sister is about 10 years older than me, and I've been enjoying getting to know her a little better. She has a quirky sense of style and humor, and she never simplifies things for me. We talk current events and joke around. Even though she's older than me, we share a sort of bond as "daughters of the house". It's nice to feel normal!
In contrast, Friday was a pretty rough day. I spent most of last week preparing for 2 exposés in my discussion sections on Friday. The second one went well. It was a little nerve-wracking because I had to discuss/critique the presentation of another of my classmates, but I made it through and got a positive reaction from the professor. The first one, on the other hand, was pretty disastrous. The topic was "Have we moved from a French Europe to a German Europe?" Now, if my partner and I were European, maybe we would have some sort of frame of reference for that question! As it was, we had to do extensive background research, and as a result we were completely overwhelmed and didn't know how to approach the subject. Apparently, we didn't do it the way the professor wanted us to, so he proceeded to grill us in front of the class (for nearly 30 minutes) on the finer points of the past 10 years of Franco-German relations and balance of power. Ouch. However, the other students in the class seemed to feel sympathy for us -- as I sat down, one girl leaned over and told me that my French was very good. It wasn't much comfort at the time, but it makes me smile now!
Saturday was a much better day. I survived the French ophthalmologist (more on that later) and I booked my spring break travel plans. Over a period of 10 days, I will be visiting Nice, France, and Florence and Rome, Italy. I'm actually looking forward to traveling on my own. I can't wait to go exploring and discover these cities at my own pace, free to follow my own whims.
Flash-forward to today. I got to school early because the student organization is sponsoring a trip to Barcelona at the end of April, and I wanted to buy a ticket. I walked into the cafeteria and discovered absolute chaos. I had a sudden flashback (my first) to the online cultural orientation that Georgetown made us complete. There are little diagrams illustrating how people in various cultures relate to the space around them. In the U.S., we are very line oriented: single file, wait your turn. In France, it's more like a giant, pushy blob where you have to fight your way to the front. Once I entered the crowd, I could barely breathe from being crushed so tightly. I couldn't even move enough to turn around and leave. Despite a few moments of silent panic, I decided to stick it out -- after all, if it doesn't kill the French, it won't kill me -- and I prevailed! I got one of the last spots on the trip. I am especially excited because several of my friends from Georgetown who are studying in Spain are planning on meeting me in Barcelona. So much travel, so little time!
This afternoon, I had a follow-up appointment with the ophthalmologist. At my first appointment, she determined that I had an infection in my eye and prescribed some drops (which I had to mix myself from a powder) and an ointment (to be applied directly to the eye. Yes, I double-checked. Twice.) On Saturday, I left feeling highly optimistic and wondering why people ever doubt the French health care system. Today, I am feeling considerably less impressed. I had to wait over an hour to see the doctor, and all she said was that my eye looked better and I should schedule another appointment in two weeks. My reaction: the culture shock standby, "You want me to do what??" My impression has been that at home, when you have a follow-up visit, you don't generally have to schedule another one unless there's something wrong. So that's a little annoying.
My annoyance was magnified when I got stuck in a protest on my way home. Yes, this was completely unintentional, OIP. I had no idea that the giant "manifestation" would turn the corner just as I tried to cross the street to my apartment. I will hand it to the protesters, though, they had some pretty spiffy slogans. One group even composed an original song. However, I was not quite as impressed earlier this afternoon when it took me at least 15 minutes to get to the door of my apartment building. What is it with the French and crowd control, hm?
Nevertheless, in a perfect example of how life in Paris is never all bad, my day completely turned around during Arabic class tonight when my professor casually mentioned that he would like to invite our class to his house. In Tunis. Yes, the Tunis that is in Tunisia. My Arabic class is planning a field trip to Tunisia! Right now it's kind of an administrative nightmare because there are around 12 of us, and we need to find a weekend that works and get approval from Sciences Po, let alone airfare, etc. But still, I might be going to Tunis! I'm trying not to get my hopes up until I have more information, but I can't believe that this is even a possibility. Wow. Je suis completement bouleversée.
Now, it is time for me to put myself to bed. I have the last of my gauntlet of exposés tomorrow -- this one is on the significance of urban planning in the Chicago 2016 Olympic Bid process. Wish me "bon courage"!
Last weekend, my good friend from middle school arrived from Florence to spend her spring break in Paris. It's hard to describe what it felt like to see such a familiar face in such a foreign (albeit increasingly familiar and certainly beloved) place. Simply put, it was weird, but very very nice! We then embarked on a whirlwind tour of Paris: the Jardin du Luxembourg, the Pantheon, the Marché Mouffetard, the Jardin des Plantes, the Mosquée de Paris, Notre-Dame, the Moulin Rouge, the Eiffel Tower, Place des Vosges and the Marais district, the Louvre, etc. Due to my classes and other commitments, I wasn't able to spend as much time with B as I would have liked, but she was traveling with other friends anyway so it worked out well.
On Monday night, I went to the theater with one of my host sisters and her boyfriend/husband/partner/still haven't figured this one out. It was a comedy called "Exercices de style"...and it was funny! If I say so myself, I was impressed with how much I was able to understand. Some elements of humor (physical comedy, facial expressions, etc.) transcend language, but others are inherent within it. I once heard someone say that you know you have mastered a language when you are able to make someone laugh -- and not due to your mistakes. Anyway, the point of the story is that the show was incredibly funny, and I had a wonderful time in great company. My host sister is about 10 years older than me, and I've been enjoying getting to know her a little better. She has a quirky sense of style and humor, and she never simplifies things for me. We talk current events and joke around. Even though she's older than me, we share a sort of bond as "daughters of the house". It's nice to feel normal!
In contrast, Friday was a pretty rough day. I spent most of last week preparing for 2 exposés in my discussion sections on Friday. The second one went well. It was a little nerve-wracking because I had to discuss/critique the presentation of another of my classmates, but I made it through and got a positive reaction from the professor. The first one, on the other hand, was pretty disastrous. The topic was "Have we moved from a French Europe to a German Europe?" Now, if my partner and I were European, maybe we would have some sort of frame of reference for that question! As it was, we had to do extensive background research, and as a result we were completely overwhelmed and didn't know how to approach the subject. Apparently, we didn't do it the way the professor wanted us to, so he proceeded to grill us in front of the class (for nearly 30 minutes) on the finer points of the past 10 years of Franco-German relations and balance of power. Ouch. However, the other students in the class seemed to feel sympathy for us -- as I sat down, one girl leaned over and told me that my French was very good. It wasn't much comfort at the time, but it makes me smile now!
Saturday was a much better day. I survived the French ophthalmologist (more on that later) and I booked my spring break travel plans. Over a period of 10 days, I will be visiting Nice, France, and Florence and Rome, Italy. I'm actually looking forward to traveling on my own. I can't wait to go exploring and discover these cities at my own pace, free to follow my own whims.
Flash-forward to today. I got to school early because the student organization is sponsoring a trip to Barcelona at the end of April, and I wanted to buy a ticket. I walked into the cafeteria and discovered absolute chaos. I had a sudden flashback (my first) to the online cultural orientation that Georgetown made us complete. There are little diagrams illustrating how people in various cultures relate to the space around them. In the U.S., we are very line oriented: single file, wait your turn. In France, it's more like a giant, pushy blob where you have to fight your way to the front. Once I entered the crowd, I could barely breathe from being crushed so tightly. I couldn't even move enough to turn around and leave. Despite a few moments of silent panic, I decided to stick it out -- after all, if it doesn't kill the French, it won't kill me -- and I prevailed! I got one of the last spots on the trip. I am especially excited because several of my friends from Georgetown who are studying in Spain are planning on meeting me in Barcelona. So much travel, so little time!
This afternoon, I had a follow-up appointment with the ophthalmologist. At my first appointment, she determined that I had an infection in my eye and prescribed some drops (which I had to mix myself from a powder) and an ointment (to be applied directly to the eye. Yes, I double-checked. Twice.) On Saturday, I left feeling highly optimistic and wondering why people ever doubt the French health care system. Today, I am feeling considerably less impressed. I had to wait over an hour to see the doctor, and all she said was that my eye looked better and I should schedule another appointment in two weeks. My reaction: the culture shock standby, "You want me to do what??" My impression has been that at home, when you have a follow-up visit, you don't generally have to schedule another one unless there's something wrong. So that's a little annoying.
My annoyance was magnified when I got stuck in a protest on my way home. Yes, this was completely unintentional, OIP. I had no idea that the giant "manifestation" would turn the corner just as I tried to cross the street to my apartment. I will hand it to the protesters, though, they had some pretty spiffy slogans. One group even composed an original song. However, I was not quite as impressed earlier this afternoon when it took me at least 15 minutes to get to the door of my apartment building. What is it with the French and crowd control, hm?
Nevertheless, in a perfect example of how life in Paris is never all bad, my day completely turned around during Arabic class tonight when my professor casually mentioned that he would like to invite our class to his house. In Tunis. Yes, the Tunis that is in Tunisia. My Arabic class is planning a field trip to Tunisia! Right now it's kind of an administrative nightmare because there are around 12 of us, and we need to find a weekend that works and get approval from Sciences Po, let alone airfare, etc. But still, I might be going to Tunis! I'm trying not to get my hopes up until I have more information, but I can't believe that this is even a possibility. Wow. Je suis completement bouleversée.
Now, it is time for me to put myself to bed. I have the last of my gauntlet of exposés tomorrow -- this one is on the significance of urban planning in the Chicago 2016 Olympic Bid process. Wish me "bon courage"!
Tuesday, March 17, 2009
Sciences Po était pris!
Earlier this evening, my school was taken over by striking students from other universities in Paris (we're pretty sure they were from the Sorbonne, but that has yet to be confirmed). They broke into the main building wearing masks, stormed the biggest lecture hall, and proceeded to yell insults at the professor and generally cause chaos. That building and the library across the street were evacuated, and the riot police were called to arrest the invading students.
I was in Arabic in another classroom building down the street when this happened, and we could hear the shouting and sirens. As far as I know, no one was hurt, but there's no word yet as to whether classes will proceed as usual tomorrow.
This was quite possibly the second most terrifying experience of my life (strangely enough, the most terrifying also happened in school: crouching in the corner of my 8th grade biology class during a school-wide lockdown on September 11.) Now that I have a tiny bit of distance, I can find some humor in it...but at the time, listening to the sirens out the window and the yelling and chanting in the street...it was like Sciences Po was under siege. Which, in an odd way, I suppose we were.
I'll explain more about the circumstances that led to this later, but right now I need to edit a cover letter and CV for my French "buddy" from one of my classes.
Bonne fête Saint Patrick à tous !
I was in Arabic in another classroom building down the street when this happened, and we could hear the shouting and sirens. As far as I know, no one was hurt, but there's no word yet as to whether classes will proceed as usual tomorrow.
This was quite possibly the second most terrifying experience of my life (strangely enough, the most terrifying also happened in school: crouching in the corner of my 8th grade biology class during a school-wide lockdown on September 11.) Now that I have a tiny bit of distance, I can find some humor in it...but at the time, listening to the sirens out the window and the yelling and chanting in the street...it was like Sciences Po was under siege. Which, in an odd way, I suppose we were.
I'll explain more about the circumstances that led to this later, but right now I need to edit a cover letter and CV for my French "buddy" from one of my classes.
Bonne fête Saint Patrick à tous !
Sunday, March 15, 2009
A word about food...
It has been a very interesting day, cuisine-wise. Several people have asked me recently about my eating habits in a city that is not known for being particularly vegetarian-friendly, so now seems to be an appropriate time for an explanation.
Being vegetarian in Paris is very easy. Being vegan in Paris would be very difficult. I never have any problems finding something to eat in the city because eggs, cheese, and other dairy products are diet staples here. Every cafe will offer some type of omelette or quiche on its menu. The fact that I am willing to eat fish and seafood occasionally gives me even more options. (A brief side-note: at home, we are constantly warned against eating too much tuna because of the potential mercury content. Here, no one seems to have gotten that memo -- is it because the fish come from a different water supply, and are therefore mercury-free, or do the French just not care, as with the whole smoking thing? I honestly don't know, so please let me know if you have any ideas!)
My host mom used to be vegetarian, so she has no problem cooking for me. A typical lunch might be a potato omelette with a green salad and bread, while dinner could be rice, fish, a grated carrot salad (more on this in a moment), bread, and a yogurt (ditto). I end up eating more fish than I would ordinarily like, but since I knew this was a distinct possibility before I came here, it really doesn't bother me. I tell myself that I'm making up for it in other ways -- my host mom only buys organic, locally grown produce, which is delicious in addition to being better for the environment!
Up until tonight, I had only encountered two slightly odd French culinary traditions. The first is the concept of the grated salad. This consists of either carrots, cabbage, or whatever that white cabbage-y looking stuff is, shredded and sprinkled with some kind oil (hazelnut is my host mother's oil of choice). It is somewhat coleslaw-esque, only without the mayonnaise. I'm not a huge fan, mostly because I don't particularly care for raw carrots or cabbage, but it's not bad.
I am much more in favor of the second one: yogurt. At home, yogurt means the very sweet, fruit-flavored, custardy stuff that comes in little Dannon containers. You can still get that here (sort of), but every day yogurt is plain. Not vanilla. Plain -- sort of like Greek yogurt, but not quite. You mix it with a spoonful of jam (homemade, at my house), honey, or sugar. It's pretty much the best thing ever, and I already know I'm going to miss it when I leave. Can you imagine mixing a spoonful of Smucker's jelly into a cup of plain yogurt from Safeway? Ew. Not at all the same.
This brings me to today. B, one of my friends from middle school, is visiting from Florence, and we both realized that we were craving pancakes -- not crepes, pancakes. Luckily, there is an amazing little 50s style diner down the street from me that serves American-style breakfast all day. Let them eat pancakes, anyone? We went, we ate, we were thrilled.
Flash forward to tonight. My host mom informed me that we would be having a "bricolage" dinner. This is roughly equivalent to leftovers night at home, except that the French never have leftovers...so it was more like a "I bought whatever looked good at the market today" sort of meal. This turned out to be oysters, a salad of beets, apple, and avocado, and noodles with foie. Yes, that is the same "foie" as in "foie gras". It means liver. Chicken liver, in this case, which my host mother informed me was not meat. Hmm. Where to begin...
Oysters look kind of gross, but they're not actually that bad -- mainly because you squirt them with lemon and swallow them whole, which only leaves you with a vaguely fishy aftertaste. I'm not a huge fan of either beets or avocados, but they're only vegetables (or fruits?) so I can deal. It was the foie that was the problem. It didn't actually taste bad, just like very concentrated chicken. However, they looked like little livers (at least with foie gras, it's disguised in the form of a pate), and the texture was very strange. I was very aware that I was eating something's liver. Yecch. Rather than be rude, I finished it, but if there's a next time I will find a way to politely excuse myself.
So now I am left with a slightly unsettled stomach, and I already finished my stash of Toblerones! (Another side-note: you have to love a country where Toblerones are the least expensive chocolate bar in the grocery store. Monoprix -- a.k.a. my new favorite place -- sells 3 packs for 1,50 euro.) What's a girl to do when there's no chocolate?
-----------------------------
P.S. If it wasn't already apparent, I have moved on from my "culture shock" incident earlier this week. It is definitely true that my honeymoon period is over, but I am realizing that I really do love Paris, despite the difficulties of living here or what I might perceive as its "faults". Every honeymoon has to come to an end, and I feel lucky that the fuller, more genuine view of this place that I am now developing is still a positive one overall.
Being vegetarian in Paris is very easy. Being vegan in Paris would be very difficult. I never have any problems finding something to eat in the city because eggs, cheese, and other dairy products are diet staples here. Every cafe will offer some type of omelette or quiche on its menu. The fact that I am willing to eat fish and seafood occasionally gives me even more options. (A brief side-note: at home, we are constantly warned against eating too much tuna because of the potential mercury content. Here, no one seems to have gotten that memo -- is it because the fish come from a different water supply, and are therefore mercury-free, or do the French just not care, as with the whole smoking thing? I honestly don't know, so please let me know if you have any ideas!)
My host mom used to be vegetarian, so she has no problem cooking for me. A typical lunch might be a potato omelette with a green salad and bread, while dinner could be rice, fish, a grated carrot salad (more on this in a moment), bread, and a yogurt (ditto). I end up eating more fish than I would ordinarily like, but since I knew this was a distinct possibility before I came here, it really doesn't bother me. I tell myself that I'm making up for it in other ways -- my host mom only buys organic, locally grown produce, which is delicious in addition to being better for the environment!
Up until tonight, I had only encountered two slightly odd French culinary traditions. The first is the concept of the grated salad. This consists of either carrots, cabbage, or whatever that white cabbage-y looking stuff is, shredded and sprinkled with some kind oil (hazelnut is my host mother's oil of choice). It is somewhat coleslaw-esque, only without the mayonnaise. I'm not a huge fan, mostly because I don't particularly care for raw carrots or cabbage, but it's not bad.
I am much more in favor of the second one: yogurt. At home, yogurt means the very sweet, fruit-flavored, custardy stuff that comes in little Dannon containers. You can still get that here (sort of), but every day yogurt is plain. Not vanilla. Plain -- sort of like Greek yogurt, but not quite. You mix it with a spoonful of jam (homemade, at my house), honey, or sugar. It's pretty much the best thing ever, and I already know I'm going to miss it when I leave. Can you imagine mixing a spoonful of Smucker's jelly into a cup of plain yogurt from Safeway? Ew. Not at all the same.
This brings me to today. B, one of my friends from middle school, is visiting from Florence, and we both realized that we were craving pancakes -- not crepes, pancakes. Luckily, there is an amazing little 50s style diner down the street from me that serves American-style breakfast all day. Let them eat pancakes, anyone? We went, we ate, we were thrilled.
Flash forward to tonight. My host mom informed me that we would be having a "bricolage" dinner. This is roughly equivalent to leftovers night at home, except that the French never have leftovers...so it was more like a "I bought whatever looked good at the market today" sort of meal. This turned out to be oysters, a salad of beets, apple, and avocado, and noodles with foie. Yes, that is the same "foie" as in "foie gras". It means liver. Chicken liver, in this case, which my host mother informed me was not meat. Hmm. Where to begin...
Oysters look kind of gross, but they're not actually that bad -- mainly because you squirt them with lemon and swallow them whole, which only leaves you with a vaguely fishy aftertaste. I'm not a huge fan of either beets or avocados, but they're only vegetables (or fruits?) so I can deal. It was the foie that was the problem. It didn't actually taste bad, just like very concentrated chicken. However, they looked like little livers (at least with foie gras, it's disguised in the form of a pate), and the texture was very strange. I was very aware that I was eating something's liver. Yecch. Rather than be rude, I finished it, but if there's a next time I will find a way to politely excuse myself.
So now I am left with a slightly unsettled stomach, and I already finished my stash of Toblerones! (Another side-note: you have to love a country where Toblerones are the least expensive chocolate bar in the grocery store. Monoprix -- a.k.a. my new favorite place -- sells 3 packs for 1,50 euro.) What's a girl to do when there's no chocolate?
-----------------------------
P.S. If it wasn't already apparent, I have moved on from my "culture shock" incident earlier this week. It is definitely true that my honeymoon period is over, but I am realizing that I really do love Paris, despite the difficulties of living here or what I might perceive as its "faults". Every honeymoon has to come to an end, and I feel lucky that the fuller, more genuine view of this place that I am now developing is still a positive one overall.
Tuesday, March 10, 2009
Culture shock timeline
Yes, I know that three posts in as many days is slightly unusual for me, but for those of you keeping track, I thought you should know that the end of the "honeymoon period" has officially been clocked at 4 weeks, 3 days, and some-odd hours. I should probably wait to write about this until I have a bit more distance, but the highlights include:
-Resisting the urge to yell at a sales clerk who insisted on speaking to me in (very poor) English. Yes, I know what the "carte de fidelite" is. Yes, I already know that it's free, I understood you better the first time when you explained this in French. No, I still don't want it, nor do I appreciate you informing me that you can tell I'm from Chicago from my accent. It's none of your business, and I certainly didn't ask!
-A humiliating sequence of events in my Arabic class that started when I got stuck with the one other American in the class as my partner (she's a full-time Sciences Po grad student, but both my French and Arabic are stronger than hers so I end up helping her a lot) for a skit, and ended with the professor apologizing to the class for us by saying, "Oh, it's supposed to be funny. It's very American," after she apparently offended everyone with a reference to Hitler (it's a long story, but her character in the skit had a mustache, and the one she made out of paper was inadvertently very Hitler-esque) that I didn't even notice at the time.
-Being called a hypocrite by my host mother when I explained (in what was meant to be a light-hearted comment) that I don't drink wine at home, except for at church, because I'm not legally of age. Granted, that is taken out of context -- she was laughing as she said it -- but still. She called me a hypocrite to my face.
It's so frustrating because a lot of good things happened today, too. I slept in. I did some work in my Georgetown Arabic book, which was lovely because it felt so familiar. I sorted out some confusion over an assignment with one of my professors. I had a nice conversation with a French student from one of my classes, and she invited me to dinner with some of her friends. I couldn't go because I had Arabic, but it was really nice of her to ask.
And yet despite all these good things, I'm still left with a bad taste in my mouth for the day. I think the part that bothers me most is the incident in my Arabic class. Yes, the thing with the store clerk was annoying, but whatever. The woman wasn't trying to be rude. And yes, my feelings are pretty hurt by what my host mother said, but I know she likes me and would never purposely offend me. I'll get over it.
But the debacle in Arabic...I think it bothers me for two reasons. First and foremost, this is the first time that I have been involved in a major cultural misunderstanding. If I'm going to be inappropriate and offensive, I would at least like to know that I'm doing it! In this instance, one of the other students in class had to whisper an explanation to me after the fact, and I spent the remaining half hour of class with my face bright red, trying not to cry because I was so shocked and confused. I'm also frustrated because it wasn't even really my fault -- I didn't do or say anything wrong, but I still feel responsible somehow.
The second issue is that the professor made such a big deal about the fact that we are American. When the other girl and I stood up to give the presentation, he said, "Ah, les Americaines!" And afterward, he tried to excuse what had happened by explaining that it was merely American humor. No, not fair! When 2 German girls performed their skit, he didn't say, "Ah, les Allemandes!" And if we did something offensive, it was the result of a misunderstanding, not merely because we are American. I realize he was trying to help, but he shouldn't have used that as an excuse.
I'm tired, and therefore I'm not thinking rationally. However, I think I can definitively say that this marks the end of the "honeymoon period" of my "study abroad experience". Even with all the good that has come out of this experience so far (and there has certainly been a lot of good), it can be exhausting. All I want is to blend in! Just 24 hours where I'm not "l'Americaine" and I don't have to think twice before saying or doing anything. I wonder if I can really adapt that much over the next four months?
-Resisting the urge to yell at a sales clerk who insisted on speaking to me in (very poor) English. Yes, I know what the "carte de fidelite" is. Yes, I already know that it's free, I understood you better the first time when you explained this in French. No, I still don't want it, nor do I appreciate you informing me that you can tell I'm from Chicago from my accent. It's none of your business, and I certainly didn't ask!
-A humiliating sequence of events in my Arabic class that started when I got stuck with the one other American in the class as my partner (she's a full-time Sciences Po grad student, but both my French and Arabic are stronger than hers so I end up helping her a lot) for a skit, and ended with the professor apologizing to the class for us by saying, "Oh, it's supposed to be funny. It's very American," after she apparently offended everyone with a reference to Hitler (it's a long story, but her character in the skit had a mustache, and the one she made out of paper was inadvertently very Hitler-esque) that I didn't even notice at the time.
-Being called a hypocrite by my host mother when I explained (in what was meant to be a light-hearted comment) that I don't drink wine at home, except for at church, because I'm not legally of age. Granted, that is taken out of context -- she was laughing as she said it -- but still. She called me a hypocrite to my face.
It's so frustrating because a lot of good things happened today, too. I slept in. I did some work in my Georgetown Arabic book, which was lovely because it felt so familiar. I sorted out some confusion over an assignment with one of my professors. I had a nice conversation with a French student from one of my classes, and she invited me to dinner with some of her friends. I couldn't go because I had Arabic, but it was really nice of her to ask.
And yet despite all these good things, I'm still left with a bad taste in my mouth for the day. I think the part that bothers me most is the incident in my Arabic class. Yes, the thing with the store clerk was annoying, but whatever. The woman wasn't trying to be rude. And yes, my feelings are pretty hurt by what my host mother said, but I know she likes me and would never purposely offend me. I'll get over it.
But the debacle in Arabic...I think it bothers me for two reasons. First and foremost, this is the first time that I have been involved in a major cultural misunderstanding. If I'm going to be inappropriate and offensive, I would at least like to know that I'm doing it! In this instance, one of the other students in class had to whisper an explanation to me after the fact, and I spent the remaining half hour of class with my face bright red, trying not to cry because I was so shocked and confused. I'm also frustrated because it wasn't even really my fault -- I didn't do or say anything wrong, but I still feel responsible somehow.
The second issue is that the professor made such a big deal about the fact that we are American. When the other girl and I stood up to give the presentation, he said, "Ah, les Americaines!" And afterward, he tried to excuse what had happened by explaining that it was merely American humor. No, not fair! When 2 German girls performed their skit, he didn't say, "Ah, les Allemandes!" And if we did something offensive, it was the result of a misunderstanding, not merely because we are American. I realize he was trying to help, but he shouldn't have used that as an excuse.
I'm tired, and therefore I'm not thinking rationally. However, I think I can definitively say that this marks the end of the "honeymoon period" of my "study abroad experience". Even with all the good that has come out of this experience so far (and there has certainly been a lot of good), it can be exhausting. All I want is to blend in! Just 24 hours where I'm not "l'Americaine" and I don't have to think twice before saying or doing anything. I wonder if I can really adapt that much over the next four months?
Monday, March 9, 2009
School stuff
I have a bit of free time tonight, so I thought I would finally post my long-awaited (and much-anticipated, I'm sure) entry on the academic system here. I may have mentioned some of this before in passing, so sorry for any overlap.
Sciences Po is formally called Institut d'Etudes Politiques de Paris (The Institute of Political Studies of Paris). This is important for a few reasons. First, it is not a traditional university and does not award undergraduate degrees. The school is under the administration of the National Foundation of Political Science; it is a research and public policy institution that happens to teach students. The equivalent of an undergraduate program (first cycle) consists of 3 years of study, with the 3rd year spent studying abroad. Since there is no degree awarded upon completion of this program, most students continue on to the Master's cycle for an additional 2 years, at which point they receive their diplomas.
Because of this slightly unusual structure and its academic reputation, Sciences Po is considered one of the "Grandes Ecoles". Most universities in France are public, and they are required to admit any local ("in-state", so to speak) student who has passed the bac -- the baccalaureat exam taken at the end of high school. Grandes Ecoles are roughly similar to private schools. They are vastly more competitive and require separate entrance exams and interviews. They are known for educating the next generation of political/social/intellectual elites, and each school focuses on a different specialty. For example, most high-ranking French politicians attended Sciences Po followed by the Ecole Nationale d'Administration (another Grande Ecole, this one specializes in administration).
The name "Institut d'Etudes Politiques de Paris" is significant for one more reason: the "de Paris" part. This indicates "the real" Sciences Po, the original institution that evolved from the 19th century Ecole Libre des Sciences Politiques and is currently run by the Fondation Nationale des Sciences Politiques. Sciences Po- Paris has several regional satellite campuses that each specialize in a different part of the world (ex. "Sciences Po- Paris in Menton" studies the Middle East and North Africa). There are many other schools in France called Sciences Po, but if they don't have the "de Paris" in the title, then they're just regular, unaffiliated schools of political science.
Sorry if that was a bit long-winded. I learned all of this during my orientation a few weeks ago, and I thought it was interesting. Now on to more immediately relevant subjects:
A full course load for the first cycle consists of 2 cours magistraux + conference modules (these are the lectures + discussion sections that I described in an earlier post), a language course, and 2 electives. In my case, I am taking French as my language course and Arabic as one of my electives. Most full-time Sciences Po students are already fluent in French and English, so they are generally on to their third language by this point. Wow. As someone who is making her own feeble attempt at trilingualism, this never ceases to impress me.
In addition to their curriculum, Sciences Po has a very specific academic methodology (remember the orientation course I described?). Students are supposed to learn to express themselves eloquently and persuasively in both writing and speech. To that end, there are five types of "pedagogical exercises" assigned:
1) Expose: This is an oral presentation, exactly 10 minutes long, presented (theoretically) without reading from notes. The student is expected to present an analytical and critical response to the question assigned. My first expose will be next Thursday in my EU class, addressing the question, "Have we passed from a 'French Europe' to a 'German Europe'?"
2) Fiche technique: This is a 1-2 page paper that provides a concise summary and analysis of a given topic. It is generally intended to be distributed to the rest of the class and serves as a sort of study guide.
3) Fiche de lecture: This is a longer summary, analysis, and critique of an assigned study or other written work (i.e. a really long book). Part of the assignment is to put the author's arguments in context with the other work being conducted in that field.
4) Revue de presse: This can be either oral or written, but it's essentially a critical news analysis.
5) Dissertation: This is the big kahuna -- a research paper that responds to a question by developing a thesis. However, in the French style, you have to devote equal space to each side of the argument, otherwise the paper is considered poorly organized. Balance is very important in the body of the paper, and introductions are longer and conclusions shorter here -- the idea is that if you've proven your point in the body paragraphs, you don't need to repeat yourself at the end. If this paper is to be written in class, it is called a "devoir sur table". This is what I will have to do for my 2 midterms, which are known as "galops d'essais".
As I've commented several times already, my workload for this semester is not that bad. For the discussion section of one of my lecture courses, I have to write a modified version of a fiche de lecture (I will analyse a set of documents and articles rather than one long book), as well as another similar-style paper that will be researched and written in a group. I also have 4 exposes to do, 2 of which will be with a partner, but that's it, aside from midterm and final exams.
A word about how these projects are assigned: organized chaos. (Okay, that's two words, haha.) On the first day of class, students show up prepared to do battle. The professor walks in with a list of expose topics, matched with presentation dates, and begins to read through it. Students raise their hands to sign up for their preferred assignments. This is great, until more than one student wants the same expose. If neither of them is willing to "renonce" (give up), then the fun begins. Sometimes the professor makes it easy (ex. the person whose name comes first/last alphabetically wins, etc.); other times it's a bit more creative (ex. one student had an internship experience that is relevant to the topic at hand). It makes the U.S. system -- everyone completing the same assignment and handing it in on the same day -- look so boring!
Two last observations, just because they have to do with education:
-First of all, some necessary background info: All public services in France are "laique". Roughly translated, this means secular, but it has a different connotation here. At home, we have a tradition of "freedom OF religion"; in France, the system operates under "freedom FROM religion." When we study this in culture classes at home, we learn that people are not allowed to display outward signs of their religion in government-sponsored locations and activities -- most notably, schools. Other, private institutions have adopted policies of "laicite" as well.
Now for the anecdote: today in my Arabic class, we learned a phrase that means "with enthusiasm". The professor went around the room asking everyone what makes them enthusiastic. To me, he asked, "Do you talk about Obama with enthusiasm?" Next, he asked a girl named Marieke (a diminutive of "Marie"), "Do you speak about Marie (as in, the Virgin Mary) with enthusiasm?" The girl began to reply no, she wasn't a practicing Christian, but before she could finish, the professor interjected, saying, "Oh, no, we are laique here, we can't talk about belief and faith."
This was interesting to me for a few reasons. First of all, he was the one who brought it up to begin with! I suppose there is a fine line between using the Virgin Mary as a theoretical example and speaking specifically about one's personal beliefs...but still. Second of all, this was the first time that I had ever heard someone refer to laicite "in action", so to speak. And finally, given my somewhat limited understanding of nuance in both French and Arabic, I have no idea if the professor was serious or not. He certainly wasn't angry or upset about the situation, but I couldn't tell if 1) he realized that he chose a bad example to use and was trying to change the subject quickly, or 2) he was poking fun at the concept of laicite itself. No one else in the class even seemed to take notice, and it was one of those things that you just can't ask about when you're trying to blend in.
-I don't remember if I mentioned this before, but the French higher education system has been on strike for the past 5 weeks. This hasn't affected Sciences Po because it's essentially a private school (though the Georgetown kids at the other program in Paris have been thrown for a loop trying to find classes that are still meeting), but now some of the student groups are talking about organizing for either a protest or a strike. I'm sorry...I am very much supportive of unions and the right to strike to improve conditions for workers...but the idea of students going on strike is just silly to me.
Their slogan is "L'universite n'est pas une entreprise; la connaissance n'est pas une merchandise" (translation: The university is not a business; knowledge is not a merchandise). Pretty clever. But the thing is, whether this is good or bad, universities in the U.S. are businesses. You pay tuition in order to attend, and they teach you in order to fulfill the contract. If students went on strike at home, they would only be hurting themselves. I'm still trying to figure out exactly what the students hope to gain from striking and what they are protesting...I'll keep you posted.
Sciences Po is formally called Institut d'Etudes Politiques de Paris (The Institute of Political Studies of Paris). This is important for a few reasons. First, it is not a traditional university and does not award undergraduate degrees. The school is under the administration of the National Foundation of Political Science; it is a research and public policy institution that happens to teach students. The equivalent of an undergraduate program (first cycle) consists of 3 years of study, with the 3rd year spent studying abroad. Since there is no degree awarded upon completion of this program, most students continue on to the Master's cycle for an additional 2 years, at which point they receive their diplomas.
Because of this slightly unusual structure and its academic reputation, Sciences Po is considered one of the "Grandes Ecoles". Most universities in France are public, and they are required to admit any local ("in-state", so to speak) student who has passed the bac -- the baccalaureat exam taken at the end of high school. Grandes Ecoles are roughly similar to private schools. They are vastly more competitive and require separate entrance exams and interviews. They are known for educating the next generation of political/social/intellectual elites, and each school focuses on a different specialty. For example, most high-ranking French politicians attended Sciences Po followed by the Ecole Nationale d'Administration (another Grande Ecole, this one specializes in administration).
The name "Institut d'Etudes Politiques de Paris" is significant for one more reason: the "de Paris" part. This indicates "the real" Sciences Po, the original institution that evolved from the 19th century Ecole Libre des Sciences Politiques and is currently run by the Fondation Nationale des Sciences Politiques. Sciences Po- Paris has several regional satellite campuses that each specialize in a different part of the world (ex. "Sciences Po- Paris in Menton" studies the Middle East and North Africa). There are many other schools in France called Sciences Po, but if they don't have the "de Paris" in the title, then they're just regular, unaffiliated schools of political science.
Sorry if that was a bit long-winded. I learned all of this during my orientation a few weeks ago, and I thought it was interesting. Now on to more immediately relevant subjects:
A full course load for the first cycle consists of 2 cours magistraux + conference modules (these are the lectures + discussion sections that I described in an earlier post), a language course, and 2 electives. In my case, I am taking French as my language course and Arabic as one of my electives. Most full-time Sciences Po students are already fluent in French and English, so they are generally on to their third language by this point. Wow. As someone who is making her own feeble attempt at trilingualism, this never ceases to impress me.
In addition to their curriculum, Sciences Po has a very specific academic methodology (remember the orientation course I described?). Students are supposed to learn to express themselves eloquently and persuasively in both writing and speech. To that end, there are five types of "pedagogical exercises" assigned:
1) Expose: This is an oral presentation, exactly 10 minutes long, presented (theoretically) without reading from notes. The student is expected to present an analytical and critical response to the question assigned. My first expose will be next Thursday in my EU class, addressing the question, "Have we passed from a 'French Europe' to a 'German Europe'?"
2) Fiche technique: This is a 1-2 page paper that provides a concise summary and analysis of a given topic. It is generally intended to be distributed to the rest of the class and serves as a sort of study guide.
3) Fiche de lecture: This is a longer summary, analysis, and critique of an assigned study or other written work (i.e. a really long book). Part of the assignment is to put the author's arguments in context with the other work being conducted in that field.
4) Revue de presse: This can be either oral or written, but it's essentially a critical news analysis.
5) Dissertation: This is the big kahuna -- a research paper that responds to a question by developing a thesis. However, in the French style, you have to devote equal space to each side of the argument, otherwise the paper is considered poorly organized. Balance is very important in the body of the paper, and introductions are longer and conclusions shorter here -- the idea is that if you've proven your point in the body paragraphs, you don't need to repeat yourself at the end. If this paper is to be written in class, it is called a "devoir sur table". This is what I will have to do for my 2 midterms, which are known as "galops d'essais".
As I've commented several times already, my workload for this semester is not that bad. For the discussion section of one of my lecture courses, I have to write a modified version of a fiche de lecture (I will analyse a set of documents and articles rather than one long book), as well as another similar-style paper that will be researched and written in a group. I also have 4 exposes to do, 2 of which will be with a partner, but that's it, aside from midterm and final exams.
A word about how these projects are assigned: organized chaos. (Okay, that's two words, haha.) On the first day of class, students show up prepared to do battle. The professor walks in with a list of expose topics, matched with presentation dates, and begins to read through it. Students raise their hands to sign up for their preferred assignments. This is great, until more than one student wants the same expose. If neither of them is willing to "renonce" (give up), then the fun begins. Sometimes the professor makes it easy (ex. the person whose name comes first/last alphabetically wins, etc.); other times it's a bit more creative (ex. one student had an internship experience that is relevant to the topic at hand). It makes the U.S. system -- everyone completing the same assignment and handing it in on the same day -- look so boring!
Two last observations, just because they have to do with education:
-First of all, some necessary background info: All public services in France are "laique". Roughly translated, this means secular, but it has a different connotation here. At home, we have a tradition of "freedom OF religion"; in France, the system operates under "freedom FROM religion." When we study this in culture classes at home, we learn that people are not allowed to display outward signs of their religion in government-sponsored locations and activities -- most notably, schools. Other, private institutions have adopted policies of "laicite" as well.
Now for the anecdote: today in my Arabic class, we learned a phrase that means "with enthusiasm". The professor went around the room asking everyone what makes them enthusiastic. To me, he asked, "Do you talk about Obama with enthusiasm?" Next, he asked a girl named Marieke (a diminutive of "Marie"), "Do you speak about Marie (as in, the Virgin Mary) with enthusiasm?" The girl began to reply no, she wasn't a practicing Christian, but before she could finish, the professor interjected, saying, "Oh, no, we are laique here, we can't talk about belief and faith."
This was interesting to me for a few reasons. First of all, he was the one who brought it up to begin with! I suppose there is a fine line between using the Virgin Mary as a theoretical example and speaking specifically about one's personal beliefs...but still. Second of all, this was the first time that I had ever heard someone refer to laicite "in action", so to speak. And finally, given my somewhat limited understanding of nuance in both French and Arabic, I have no idea if the professor was serious or not. He certainly wasn't angry or upset about the situation, but I couldn't tell if 1) he realized that he chose a bad example to use and was trying to change the subject quickly, or 2) he was poking fun at the concept of laicite itself. No one else in the class even seemed to take notice, and it was one of those things that you just can't ask about when you're trying to blend in.
-I don't remember if I mentioned this before, but the French higher education system has been on strike for the past 5 weeks. This hasn't affected Sciences Po because it's essentially a private school (though the Georgetown kids at the other program in Paris have been thrown for a loop trying to find classes that are still meeting), but now some of the student groups are talking about organizing for either a protest or a strike. I'm sorry...I am very much supportive of unions and the right to strike to improve conditions for workers...but the idea of students going on strike is just silly to me.
Their slogan is "L'universite n'est pas une entreprise; la connaissance n'est pas une merchandise" (translation: The university is not a business; knowledge is not a merchandise). Pretty clever. But the thing is, whether this is good or bad, universities in the U.S. are businesses. You pay tuition in order to attend, and they teach you in order to fulfill the contract. If students went on strike at home, they would only be hurting themselves. I'm still trying to figure out exactly what the students hope to gain from striking and what they are protesting...I'll keep you posted.
Saturday, March 7, 2009
Un mélange d'obsérvations
Let me begin by saying that, although I still think French keyboards are confusing and only recently figured out how to type the @ sign, they do have their good points -- it's annoying to have to memorize keystrokes or insert symbols in order to spell properly with accents!
Before my traditional "week in brief" update, a few more observations:
-This whole "no homework" business is starting to creep me out a little. I am fully aware that I shouldn't complain about having a light workload, and I also realize that things will pick up over the next few weeks as I begin giving my exposés (oral presentations) and writing papers. But still, I have only had one Arabic assignment over the course of the past two weeks, and that feels so strange to me. I know I'm supposed to study the vocab and review on my own, which I have been doing, but it's such a drastic change from Arabic at Georgetown. Much as I enjoy the additional free time, a part of me misses the nightly homework that had become so familiar!
-I mentioned in my last post that I was having difficulty understanding one of my professors because he speaks -- and often mumbles -- too quickly. Apparently I wasn't the only one having problems! One of the other international students (side-note: we are very pointedly referred to as "international students" here, NOT "exchange students". The idea is that we are still full-fledged Sciences Po students, with all the expectations which that entails, even if we ordinarily speak another language. It's inclusive; I like it.) talked to the professor after class last week, and he made a concerted effort to speak more clearly. Plus, I have discovered that direct sight lines drastically improve my ability to keep pace, so I moved to a better seat this week. Problem solved, I think.
-My host mother's two grandsons (my host nephews?) slept over last night. They are 8 and 5. I played "Chronicles of Narnia" with them and watched the first Pirates of the Caribbean movie this afternoon. As I've said before, some things translate across language and culture! If a 5 year-old boy finds some sort of stick lying around, he will inevitably turn it into either a sword, a horse, or a magic broomstick -- even if he calls it une épée, un cheval, or un balai. :-) However, there are definitely some differences. The worst thing that someone can say about a misbehaving child is that he or she is "mal élévé" (poorly raised). The idea is that a child's behavior reflects upon the parent; there isn't any direct translation for the word "naughty". You can be "disobedient" (désobéissant) or literally "mean" (méchant), but not simply "bad". I wonder what kind of psychological implications this carries...
And now for the update:
This week, I mainly focused on getting a handle on my classes, and as a result, I now feel much more settled. On Tuesday, I went to the Arab Institute in the afternoon. I visited the museum exhibitions, and then I remembered that they have a library. It turned out to be open to the public, so I wandered in and inadvertently ended up beginning research for my senior honors thesis. My tentative plan is to choose a female Algerian author (writing in French) and a female Maghreb author (living in France, of Algerian heritage) and conduct a comparative literary analysis of some of the social/political themes in their work. I ran this by my French major advisor at Georgetown, and she seems to think it's a good idea. If I begin my research this semester, especially making use of resources that I won't have at Georgetown, then I should be in good shape for next year.
Other than that, this week has been fairly uneventful. The weather hasn't been too great, meaning that I haven't been as inclined to go adventuring. This afternoon, I think I will take a walk to the Jardin des Plantes, though, and tomorrow I plan to go to church at the American (Episcopal) Cathedral -- it turns out the church I went to last time was actually the nondenominational American Church in Paris, located two stops away on the same bus line. Confusing!
Before my traditional "week in brief" update, a few more observations:
-This whole "no homework" business is starting to creep me out a little. I am fully aware that I shouldn't complain about having a light workload, and I also realize that things will pick up over the next few weeks as I begin giving my exposés (oral presentations) and writing papers. But still, I have only had one Arabic assignment over the course of the past two weeks, and that feels so strange to me. I know I'm supposed to study the vocab and review on my own, which I have been doing, but it's such a drastic change from Arabic at Georgetown. Much as I enjoy the additional free time, a part of me misses the nightly homework that had become so familiar!
-I mentioned in my last post that I was having difficulty understanding one of my professors because he speaks -- and often mumbles -- too quickly. Apparently I wasn't the only one having problems! One of the other international students (side-note: we are very pointedly referred to as "international students" here, NOT "exchange students". The idea is that we are still full-fledged Sciences Po students, with all the expectations which that entails, even if we ordinarily speak another language. It's inclusive; I like it.) talked to the professor after class last week, and he made a concerted effort to speak more clearly. Plus, I have discovered that direct sight lines drastically improve my ability to keep pace, so I moved to a better seat this week. Problem solved, I think.
-My host mother's two grandsons (my host nephews?) slept over last night. They are 8 and 5. I played "Chronicles of Narnia" with them and watched the first Pirates of the Caribbean movie this afternoon. As I've said before, some things translate across language and culture! If a 5 year-old boy finds some sort of stick lying around, he will inevitably turn it into either a sword, a horse, or a magic broomstick -- even if he calls it une épée, un cheval, or un balai. :-) However, there are definitely some differences. The worst thing that someone can say about a misbehaving child is that he or she is "mal élévé" (poorly raised). The idea is that a child's behavior reflects upon the parent; there isn't any direct translation for the word "naughty". You can be "disobedient" (désobéissant) or literally "mean" (méchant), but not simply "bad". I wonder what kind of psychological implications this carries...
And now for the update:
This week, I mainly focused on getting a handle on my classes, and as a result, I now feel much more settled. On Tuesday, I went to the Arab Institute in the afternoon. I visited the museum exhibitions, and then I remembered that they have a library. It turned out to be open to the public, so I wandered in and inadvertently ended up beginning research for my senior honors thesis. My tentative plan is to choose a female Algerian author (writing in French) and a female Maghreb author (living in France, of Algerian heritage) and conduct a comparative literary analysis of some of the social/political themes in their work. I ran this by my French major advisor at Georgetown, and she seems to think it's a good idea. If I begin my research this semester, especially making use of resources that I won't have at Georgetown, then I should be in good shape for next year.
Other than that, this week has been fairly uneventful. The weather hasn't been too great, meaning that I haven't been as inclined to go adventuring. This afternoon, I think I will take a walk to the Jardin des Plantes, though, and tomorrow I plan to go to church at the American (Episcopal) Cathedral -- it turns out the church I went to last time was actually the nondenominational American Church in Paris, located two stops away on the same bus line. Confusing!
Sunday, March 1, 2009
La vie quotidienne
Now for my previously planned update about the first week of class and other adventures:
First of all, let me say "whew!" I survived. In fact, all things considered, my first week went much more smoothly than I initially anticipated. Here is a look at my schedule:
Monday: 12h30-14h30 Arabic; 14h45-16h45 Construction of the European Union (lecture); 17h00-19h00 French.
Tuesday: 19h15-21h15 Arabic.
Wednesday: 12h30-14h30 Political sociology (lecture); 19h15-21h15 Urbanism and Parisian politics
Thursday: no class.
Friday: 14h45-16h45 Construction of the EU (section); 19h15-21h15 Political sociology (section).
I can already tell that I like having Thursday (and most of Tuesday) free. I plan on making a concerted effort not to waste that time; I think I will choose a museum or something else to visit every week. However, it feels weird to only have Arabic twice a week, and on consecutive days. At Georgetown, most classes that meet more than once a week are spread out (ex. Monday and Wednesday). Also, I'm not wild about having class until 9pm three times a week, especially since one of those days is Friday. I have already discovered that it's hard for me to focus at that point, after a long day/week.
On the bright side, I have only encountered one class where I have trouble following along. The professor for my political sociology section is quite eccentric, and he speaks faster than anyone I have ever met -- imagine the voice that reads disclaimers on TV or radio commercials, and that should give you a close approximation. I think I will have to come up with some more creative strategies to make sure I know what's going on in this class!
Two observations about the structure/content of the courses themselves:
1. When I saw that my 2 lecture courses had discussion sections, I assumed that these would be similar to the ones at home, essentially an opportunity to review the week's reading and ask questions about the lecture. French sections are quite different; they are more like separate, independent classes that happen to follow the same thematic outline as the lecture sequence. They are taught by full professors, not graduate students, and all of the reading and other work (other than the final exam) is assigned and evaluated in the sections. It's different, but I don't know that I like it any more or any less than the US model.
2. A word about homework. It might well be too soon for me to draw any kind of conclusions here, but I suspect that my workload will be comparatively light for most of the semester. This week, I was assigned a 10 sentence essay in Arabic (this brings back fond memories of level 1 at Georgetown) and roughly 80 pages of reading in total for my other classes (20 pages of which are in English, strangely enough). I'm used to getting at least an hour of Arabic work per night, and somewhere from 50-100 pages of reading per class, per week. Over the course of the semester, I will also have to give 4 10-15 minute oral presentations, 2 of which will be done with a partner, a funny sort of essay for my political sociology class (explanation of French assignments to follow at some point), and a group research paper for the same class.
I'm sure all of this will seem much more stressful when it comes time to actually do the work, but for right now, I am "cautiously optimistic" -- that seems to be my standby catch phrase these days!
And now a brief weekend update:
Yesterday, Saturday, I went on a walking tour of the 9th arrondissement with a friend I met during orientation. Among the highlights were a garden where Chopin and George Sand consorted, a very famous and very tempting sweet shop, and a covered street lined with book, toy, and antique shops. We stopped for hot chocolate in a cafe because we thought we spotted peanut butter and jelly jars on the tables -- they turned out to be hazlenut spread and homemade cherry preserves. Not quite what we had in mind, but delicious nonetheless! We met up with a few more friends for dinner in the Marais district, and we all decided to try some hot mulled wine before the definitive end of winter. It was good, although the steam made it feel like it was going up my nose -- very sophisticated, I know.
Today, I met up with a friend from high school for a day trip to Auvers-sur-Oise, a small town about an hour north of the city where Van Gogh spent the last two months of his life. It was nice to roam around such a cute, pollution-free little town. The museum dedicated to Van Gogh was still closed for the winter, but we saw his gravesite, wandered through fields and forests along dirt paths, and explored the gardens of the chateau nearby. We had a bit of confusion finding the right train to get us back to Paris, but we both made it home safe and sound eventually.
It seems like this weekend flew by. My host mother reminded me at dinner tonight that I have been here for 3 full weeks. I can hardly believe it. One of my high school friends is coming to visit from Florence the week after next. My parents are coming 2 weeks after that. Spring break is 2 weeks after that. Then it will be May already, and my brother and grandma are coming the second week of June. If I'm not careful, I'm worried that the semester will run away from me...but I'm making up my mind to take full advantage of every day here.
First of all, let me say "whew!" I survived. In fact, all things considered, my first week went much more smoothly than I initially anticipated. Here is a look at my schedule:
Monday: 12h30-14h30 Arabic; 14h45-16h45 Construction of the European Union (lecture); 17h00-19h00 French.
Tuesday: 19h15-21h15 Arabic.
Wednesday: 12h30-14h30 Political sociology (lecture); 19h15-21h15 Urbanism and Parisian politics
Thursday: no class.
Friday: 14h45-16h45 Construction of the EU (section); 19h15-21h15 Political sociology (section).
I can already tell that I like having Thursday (and most of Tuesday) free. I plan on making a concerted effort not to waste that time; I think I will choose a museum or something else to visit every week. However, it feels weird to only have Arabic twice a week, and on consecutive days. At Georgetown, most classes that meet more than once a week are spread out (ex. Monday and Wednesday). Also, I'm not wild about having class until 9pm three times a week, especially since one of those days is Friday. I have already discovered that it's hard for me to focus at that point, after a long day/week.
On the bright side, I have only encountered one class where I have trouble following along. The professor for my political sociology section is quite eccentric, and he speaks faster than anyone I have ever met -- imagine the voice that reads disclaimers on TV or radio commercials, and that should give you a close approximation. I think I will have to come up with some more creative strategies to make sure I know what's going on in this class!
Two observations about the structure/content of the courses themselves:
1. When I saw that my 2 lecture courses had discussion sections, I assumed that these would be similar to the ones at home, essentially an opportunity to review the week's reading and ask questions about the lecture. French sections are quite different; they are more like separate, independent classes that happen to follow the same thematic outline as the lecture sequence. They are taught by full professors, not graduate students, and all of the reading and other work (other than the final exam) is assigned and evaluated in the sections. It's different, but I don't know that I like it any more or any less than the US model.
2. A word about homework. It might well be too soon for me to draw any kind of conclusions here, but I suspect that my workload will be comparatively light for most of the semester. This week, I was assigned a 10 sentence essay in Arabic (this brings back fond memories of level 1 at Georgetown) and roughly 80 pages of reading in total for my other classes (20 pages of which are in English, strangely enough). I'm used to getting at least an hour of Arabic work per night, and somewhere from 50-100 pages of reading per class, per week. Over the course of the semester, I will also have to give 4 10-15 minute oral presentations, 2 of which will be done with a partner, a funny sort of essay for my political sociology class (explanation of French assignments to follow at some point), and a group research paper for the same class.
I'm sure all of this will seem much more stressful when it comes time to actually do the work, but for right now, I am "cautiously optimistic" -- that seems to be my standby catch phrase these days!
And now a brief weekend update:
Yesterday, Saturday, I went on a walking tour of the 9th arrondissement with a friend I met during orientation. Among the highlights were a garden where Chopin and George Sand consorted, a very famous and very tempting sweet shop, and a covered street lined with book, toy, and antique shops. We stopped for hot chocolate in a cafe because we thought we spotted peanut butter and jelly jars on the tables -- they turned out to be hazlenut spread and homemade cherry preserves. Not quite what we had in mind, but delicious nonetheless! We met up with a few more friends for dinner in the Marais district, and we all decided to try some hot mulled wine before the definitive end of winter. It was good, although the steam made it feel like it was going up my nose -- very sophisticated, I know.
Today, I met up with a friend from high school for a day trip to Auvers-sur-Oise, a small town about an hour north of the city where Van Gogh spent the last two months of his life. It was nice to roam around such a cute, pollution-free little town. The museum dedicated to Van Gogh was still closed for the winter, but we saw his gravesite, wandered through fields and forests along dirt paths, and explored the gardens of the chateau nearby. We had a bit of confusion finding the right train to get us back to Paris, but we both made it home safe and sound eventually.
It seems like this weekend flew by. My host mother reminded me at dinner tonight that I have been here for 3 full weeks. I can hardly believe it. One of my high school friends is coming to visit from Florence the week after next. My parents are coming 2 weeks after that. Spring break is 2 weeks after that. Then it will be May already, and my brother and grandma are coming the second week of June. If I'm not careful, I'm worried that the semester will run away from me...but I'm making up my mind to take full advantage of every day here.
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