You wake up in a cave to the sound of a loud beeping and no coffee being made.
What do you?It's time you knew something important about me. I'm lazy. But not the kind of lazy that if you give me a hard problem I'll find a simple way to fix it lazy, more like the kind of lazy that makes one miss out on important opportunities, such as breakfast or class.
I told you a little bit about how my first french course was megaly amazing, right? Well, it was all because the professor was a hilarious seven-year-old walking around in a my-sized body. One of her assignments was to describe a robbery to the police.
We first listened to staged accounts of robberies and she asked us pointed questions about how they went down. She then corrected for grammatical errors and wrote a relevant phrase or two on the board. We then broke into pairs and came up with a robbery scenario to present to the class. While we did so she walked among us and answered questions or made corrections to pronunciation or syntax. We then presented to the class, who would in turn answer specific questions about each skit. After each, she would then give notes on common errors or other things we should pay attention to.
This, without even the added flair of how fun she made it, is how a verbal language lesson should go. Plenty of practice, listening and speaking. She gave us a chance to be creative and critical, but she also knew how to have a good time.
For instance: One of the students said the robber had big feet and our professor insinuated that one might only notice a gentleman's feet if...
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For more innuendos please turn to page 69 |
This has all been my way of saying, I walked out of my French class today.
The "new" now-old professors is one of those teachers who relies on one student to keep the class moving. The stupidest part about this method is there may be other capable students in the class who just don't process as quickly, find it rude to shout out answers or prefer to be invited to speak. As for me, I fall into none of those categories. I can always practice at home, so I don't feel the need to fill the air with how fast I can respond. Many bright students are unaware that they are doing anything wrong. They think that if other people knew the answer, they would just speak up. They don't consider their own sense of privilege or their obligation to be a participate, not a leader. It's up to the teacher to call on other students or have a private word with the Bogart in question so that everyone feels like they're contributing.
If you agree, skip to the next paragraph.Another large problem I had with her was the way she played this game that all new teachers are warned against, it's called, "Can you guess the word I'm thinking of." She would propose an adjective and then ask for the opposite. If one woman's smile is faux (false) the other woman's smile is......real, kind, sympathetic? Non, non, non, the only correct answer was sincere. And while I can say this is possibly the best answer for the direct opposite, it is clearly not the only answer. In rational real numbers mathematics there are discreet answers, and surely when it is a matter of grammatical rules there are right and wrong responses, but shades of meaning are hardly a science. And then of course I was obliged to discuss the royal wedding for the first three meetings which was clearly the highlight of my week.
So I walked out, and as I do, she finally-- after three weeks, finally-- refers to me as
vous (cuz she doesn't even know my name) and she asks me,
"Will you be returning or not?"
Not. I said, over my shoulder.
And down to the office I strolled.
Granted, it's not as cool as it once may have been to walk out of class flipping the verbal bird at a teacher but I still felt sufficiently smug.
I'm getting pretty bored with complaining so let me just say that I enrolled in a longer, more intensive class that begins next month. I don't expect to like it more but instead of three free months of French class, I'm getting 6 and a half free months of class. Now with more hours and more days per week!
I guess I'm kinda sucking on the lemon of life right now because we had our Peace Corps interview yesterday. It went well enough. She told us that couples who can both speak French are in pretty high demand and she thinks she should be able to place us by next summer. Sebastien was disappointed by this last notion because he was apparently hoping to leave sooner.
Right around dinner time, We got an email saying she could get us into Morocco by the first of January if we wrote to her soon. After my initial pleasure with the quick turn around, I found I was a little disappointed because I was hoping for a country I knew less about. Like Tunisia, Morocco has had so much contact with other countries on the Mediterranean that it feels almost European. Also like Tunisia, they think they're better than everyone else on the continent and have no trouble saying as much, either.
But aside from sharpening my French skills I would also learn Moroccan Arabic, who's limits knows no bounds!
JK, it isn't a standard dialect and isn't spoken outside of Morocco. The only good it could ever be for me besides my cranium getting crammed full of newness is if I wanted to communicate with Parisians or Moroccans. On the other hand, Sebastien's parents would likely come visit us if we excepted the mission because they basically love Moroccan cuisine as much as French. Howevski, if we're off in some remote corner of it all, I can't see how we could really make them comfortable. Bref, these are uncertain times.
If you except the mission turn to page 2013If you write an email asking for another placement, please stand by.
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