far too much writing, far too many photos

runswithscissors


Sunday, September 06, 2009

[continued from previous entry]

Next morning, there I was, ready to go. In my seat in the right classroom. Fresh-faced and caffeinated, carrying notebook, French dictionary, pens. Made it there and found my place before the first bell* -- by the time the second bell sounded there were seven of us: a 30ish woman from Brazil, a 20-something male from Germany, the previously mentioned 30ish architect from Turkey, a college-age guy from Chile, a sweet college-age woman from Mexico, and a girl from Columbia, 18 or 19 years old, looking to be fresh out of high school.

Something I learned during all those classes taken in Madrid: you never know what kind of classmates you're going to find yourself corralled in with. Sometimes it turns out to be a joy, sometimes it's more routine, every once in a while it turns out to be absolute hell. And all it takes is one loose cannon to send the experience off toward darker, more chaotic places. Something I genuinely appreciated about the group I found myself with in this class: good people, every single one of them. Not a bad vibe to be found. Not that it was a love fest at all times, but it was benign. People were there to learn, with good will toward their classmates. Not a small thing.

And the instructor: another good person. A 30ish woman named Sana, who launched right into the work, me dealing with the stream of 100% French, scribbling pages of notes as fast as I could, trying to absorb sentences of introduction we were expected to understand and begin using (Comment tu t'appelles? Quelle est ta nationalité Que est ton état civil?). All that did was raise one question after another for me -- what's the infinitive form of the verbs, what are the conjugations? why use tu in one case, ta in another, ton in the third? -- leaving me with no way to ask questions (lacking the ability to toss together sentences) and longing for simple charts re: some basics: verbs/conjugations, nouns/pronouns, direct objects/indirect objects, blahblahblah. No charts, though. Just a whole lot of verbiage, me scrambling to get some of it.

That feeling of not being able to put together basic questions or statements? Not much fun. And my defensive reaction was to start blurting things out in Spanish. Which led to one strange thing -– I've known French folks who say 'si' just as much as they say 'oui,' I've always had the impression it was normal. I found myself answering 'si' sometimes, getting told it was dead wrong, had no way to explain my experience with that or ask about it.

Well. That day ground to its end. I returned to my temporary squat and studied.


*This school uses signal bells -- one at 8:55 (five minute warning, the equivalent of a nudge in the direction of one's classroom), then a second one at 9 a.m. If you're not in class by the 9 o'clock bell -- and I am not making this up -- you have to wait until a bell that rings at 9:30 before you can skulk in and take your seat. What happens during that 30 minute penalty period? Not sure -- could be they use it to brand you, leaving a shameful, livid L on your forehead.

[continued in following entry]

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

In the Plateau, Montreal:




España, te amo

rws 5:44 PM [+]

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BLATHERINGS

August 2001
September 2001
October 2001
November 2001
December 2001
January 2002
February 2002
March 2002
April 2002
May 2002
June 2002
July 2002
August 2002
September 2002
October 2002
November 2002
December 2002
January 2003
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April 2003
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June 2003
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November 2003
December 2003
January 2004
February 2004
March 2004
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December 2004
January 2005
February 2005
March 2005
April 2005
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June 2005
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September 2005
October 2005
November 2005
December 2005
January 2006
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August 2006
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January 2007
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October 2007
November 2007
December 2007
January 2008
February 2008
March 2008
April 2008
May 2008
June 2008
July 2008
August 2008
September 2008
October 2008
November 2008
December 2008
January 2009
February 2009
March 2009
April 2009
June 2009
July 2009
August 2009
September 2009

.  .  .  .  .  .  .  .


MORE FOCUSED BLATHERINGS


Travels:
London '01
Pamplona
Italy '03
U.K. '03
Sevilla
Casablanca
Stoke-on-Trent
Barcelona
Québec/Ottawa
Boston/Lisbon/Madrid
Italy '04
Montréal
La Sierra

Events:
Madrid -- arrival
9/11
Emergency Room I
Holidays 2001
Holidays 2002
Holidays 2003
Holidays 2004
Holidays 2005
A neighbor's passing
Madrid -- March 11 bombings
  and aftermath
Emergency Room II
Israeli friend/Madrid Marathon
Madrid -- Royal Wedding
The DELE exam

GONE, a novel:
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10

THE BASTARD CHILDREN OF
JOE ROCCO, a novella:
-- Part 1
-- Part 2
-- Part 3

BURBANK SHRUGGED,
a screenplay:
-- Part 1
-- Part 2
-- Part 3
-- Part 4

Short stories:
Murphy's Wife
Another Autumn
La Queja de Una
  Hermanastra Muy Conocida

Autobiography
-- Personal History
-- Hormones On Parade
-- Accidents, Random Mishaps,
    Personal Problems

.  .  .  .  .  .  .  .


OTHER SOURCES OF WHOLESOME ENTERTAINMENT

People/Weblogs:
dooce
foxvox
fudge it
fear not
rebekka
bookslut
802online
idle words
madhaiku
wockerjabby
grow-a-brain
rebel market
letting me be
out and about
kung fu grippe
fanatical apathy
baghdad burning
wfuv's music blog
kexp's music blog
mimi smartypants
between the miles
just a hippie gypsy
the impossible cool
tomato can brushes
vermont homestead
sugar mountain farm

Good Clean Fun:
gizmodo
futurismic
postsecret
dave barry
human clock
mcsweeney's
spaceweather
book-a-minute
internet archive
self-portrait day
my cat hates you
out of context quotes
surrealist compliment
  generator
strindberg and helium

Makin' Musical Whoopee:
last fm
stereo8
pandora
soma fm

.  .  .  .  .  .  .  .


ABOUT RWS/CONTACT





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