Mardi/Tuesday - la jour plus mauvaise!!

I haven't had a lot of free time to write or past lately, but I'm catching up.  I'll start with Tuesday.

Mardi/Tuesday

Classes started today. Even though I left rather early, I still underestimated the amount of time it would take for me to get to my building. It’s a 30 minute walk from the house, so maybe I should figure out which bus to take tomorrow so it isn’t such a trek. Anyway, I was a few minutes late, and then I was handed another piece of paper and told that I had been moved to another level in another room in another building. I’m in the “Intermédiaire C” level now, which I think will be a better experience. If the grammar is easy, that just gives me that much more time to enjoy the city and practice speaking with my host family. It was difficult to take in all of the information today. Imagine your first day in class in college, with all the necessary announcements and syllabus explanations, in a different language that you haven’t completely learned yet. My head was spinning. It was pretty stressful, too, because I was afraid I was going to miss some crucial information, like, “There’s a quiz tomorrow” or something.

Anyway, then I had to figure out where I was going to eat lunch. Walking around campus was miserable because it was so hot and humid. It’s easier to handle at home because you’re accustomed to the weather patterns and you know what to wear. Not so here, of course. Ah well, I decided that it would be economical to buy a bus pass (laissez-passer), so I asked a couple of new acquaintances where they got theirs, and they offered to drive me over there since they were going that direction anyway. I didn’t think about the fact that we might not return to the school together, and I wasn’t familiar with the area at all. I finally found the counter where they sold the passes and made my way to the bus stop to catch a bus that I hoped would take me back to Laval. When I stepped on the bus and showed the pass, though, the driver told me that I needed an ID. It turns out that they forgot to tell me that I had to pay more money at a different store to have my pass laminated with a photo of me on it, so I dropped in $2.50 to ride the bus to another stop. Then, I realized I needed to walk two or three blocks back to the same mall I’d been in to finish getting my bus pass. :P It was extremely frustrating. I waited in line for a while with a lot of other students and realized that I needed to call Mme. Falardeau to tell her that I wouldn’t be returning for dinner at the time I’d told her I would. So, I bit the bullet and called with my cell phone…with roaming charges…and struggled through the conversation, almost in tears by that point. Fortunately, we came to the conclusion that I was lost, and she was going to come and get me.

Actually, the day only improved from there. We enjoyed a lovely dinner outside, and then she drove me over to Laval for a movie night. I was a little late, but I didn’t mind. I’ll definitely be renting the movie when I get home. It was called “Bon Cop, Bad Cop,” and it was the funniest movie I’ve seen in a long time. Seriously. I laughed so hard. It’s partially in English, partially in French, because it’s about a “good cop” from Ontario and a “bad cop” from Québec who are forced to work together, despite their personal and cultural differences. If you understand a little bit about the cultural background, it’s absolutely hilarious, because they poke fun at it obviously throughout the entire movie. We watched it with French subtitles, but I’m sure it comes with English subtitles, too, so yeah – I’m definitely going to share this one. (minus a couple of scenes)

I find myself stressing a lot about this experience – about making every moment count, about whether it’s detrimental to speak English from time to time with my family and friends, or when writing here. I don’t know much about methods of learning languages. I keep reminding myself not to take this too seriously, though, and perhaps it will sink in soon. Until then, I’m having a good time analyzing my mental processes, at least. I’ve found that when I hear French, I’ll respond in French, but when I hear English, I’ll automatically respond in English without thinking about it, even though I know I’m supposed to speak French. I suppose that is one of the frustrating things about my classes – that some of the students give up too easily on making themselves understood and whisper in English when I don't understand immediately. Ah well. Perhaps by the end of the program…

Oh, funny observation of the day: a PIN number in French is a NIP. (numero d’identification personel) ;-) It amused me.

Mon premiere lundi

What a Monday! I think I’ll go ahead and write about some of my experiences while I’m in English mode. It’s difficult after hearing and speaking only in French to begin to form English structures again. Actually, I’m really not sure how beneficial it is to speak English while I’m being immersed in French, but I think if I don’t from time to time, my head will explode. I find myself thinking as much as possible in French, and my brain starts to process all information that way. Of course, I can’t process information as effectively or efficiently en francais as I can en anglais, so it creates somewhat of a “backlog” of ideas, questions, decisions, etc. Not the best situation – too stressful. (Not to mention, I start to form sentences quite strangely in English…) Yeah, thinking and speaking are so intertwined; it’s amazing.

Also, I didn’t realize how interconnected my mental, emotional, and physical reactions would be to the culture shock. When I was completely immersed yesterday during a barbecue with some of Elizabeth’s friends, I felt like I was actually bordering on an anxiety attack. It takes so much of my concentration to try to understand conversations, especially when the speakers are young natives, because they speak extremely fast and with a lot of slang. It evidently not only stresses my brain, but the rest of my body as a result. I think that this reaction of “culture shock” will not last long, though. (At least, I hope.) Another interesting aspect of culture shock is the fact that the legal drinking age is 18 here, so I’m offered beers all the time. The perplexed look on their faces when I say no is amusing. I wouldn’t mind sharing something with them if I had already had some experience with alcohol, but I doubt that this is the best place to drink for the first time. :P

Today, I went to the Université Laval for the first time and checked-in. There are TONS of students in this program, of all levels of fluency, from the newest beginner to the “superior” speakers. We were sent to our “oral interviews” so that they could ensure that we had been placed in the correct level for classes. I am classified in the level “Intermediaire Enriché,” which I think will be a good fit, and the interview wasn’t as difficult as I thought it might be. The students I spoke with in the hallways made me more nervous than was necessary (as usual…I should learn). :P There was a lot of downtime between scheduled events today, which was both good and bad. I didn’t like standing around, wondering if there was something I should be doing that I just wasn’t remembering, but it also gave me time to straighten out a mistake that was made with the credit card. When I joined the long, long line of students waiting to get their ID photos taken, I noticed that I didn’t have an envelope with the blank card in it that everyone else seemed to have. So, I ended up being sent to a different office, where they told me that my parents’ card had been declined. They sent me over to the “services finances” where I struggled to figure out in French with the woman what I needed to do to fix the problem. After a couple of phone calls to Mom, we figured out that the credit card company had declined the payment because the university attempted to run the card while we were in San Antonio. That triggered the company’s security measures. But, even though they called to ask Mom if it should be approved, they still rejected the transaction. We don’t know why they called if they were going to reject it anyway, and we don’t know why the university never contacted us. :P It was frustrating, but God took care of it all, and I didn’t have to wait in line for the card once I made the payment. (It took at least three hours to straighten it all out, because the school employees take a 1 ½ hour lunch. :P Convenient for them, but not for me.) At least I got my exercise today, too, walking up and down the stairs and in and out of the buildings.

Anyway, I spent a lot of time practicing conversational French with other students, and it’s slowly but surely getting easier. There will be a lot of organized activities for the students outside of class, like whale-watching, hiking, rafting, horseback riding, museums, a costume ball, a baseball game, etc. We are not allowed to speak our native language at any time during classes or activities. I’m actually looking forward to it because it’s like a game that everyone is playing, so there’s no need to be embarrassed.  

I need to decide if I’m going to buy a bus pass tomorrow or if I’m going to buy individual tickets as I need them. I don’t know which would be more economical yet. I can walk to school fairly easily, but the bus might be handy if it’s raining. I don’t know yet; we’ll see. By the way, it is beautiful here – a lot like the States in some ways, but different at the same time. I’ll see if I can express it better after I’ve been here longer. The food is also a little bit different. I haven’t tried a lot of traditional foods yet, but I’ve heard that the way they eat their French fries is quite interesting: with gravy and cheese curds. :P I’m sure I’ll try it before I return. I did try some frozen yogurt that was better than any frozen yogurt I’ve ever had at home the other night at a roadside dairy bar. It was a slab of actual frozen yogurt that was mixed with a machine to a creamy consistency with three different kinds of frozen fruit (of my choice). I put strawberries, peaches, and bananas in mine…and wow. So good. I’m also going to be spoiled by my host mother’s breakfasts: cereal with fresh fruit and coffee. And by fresh fruit, I mean strawberries, bananas, grapes, and even pineapple (my favorite). There’s nothing that fresh at UCA. :P

Well, that’s all that I can think of at the moment. I should probably get back to life in the house et changer les vitesses (change gears).

:) Au plaisir! Bonne nuit!

Je suis arrivée!

Bonjour!  Je veux que j'écrit en francais, mais ce n'est pas un bonne idee.  Ah, oui.  (You would not believe how much I've been saying that.  It's one of the embarrassing things about being a foreign student.  You can say "yes" and "thank you" with the best of them, but it gets so old!)   

I kept a log of my travels yesterday, so I'll go ahead and post that, and perhaps write more later tonight when I have more time.  I'll warn you now: it's extremely long!

1:00pm: *deep breath* Wow. I’m actually on the plane, flying to Canada. I should be arriving in Montreal shortly, a little behind schedule. Air Force One and Two took off just a few minutes before my flight was scheduled to depart, so they ordered all aircraft to wait for the two planes to clear the airspace before taking off. At least I can say that I’ve seen Air Force One in person!  

3:35pm: Ok, another deep breath. I’ve been rushing through the airport in Montreal for a solid hour and a half, hoping that I wasn’t going to miss my flight, and also hoping that if I did make it, that my luggage would make it, too. When I debarked in Montreal, I walked through endless corridors following the “Arrivals” signs until I finally reached a wide open space with signs for “Connections,” “Final Destination,” and “Diplomats.” Since I'm obviously not a diplomat (yet), I tried to find the lines for “Connections,” but I found that they were all closed.  So I wandered timidly through the “Final Destination” lines to talk to one of the customs agents.  He checked me in and directed me to baggage claim. I was wondering why I would need to claim my baggage, since I thought it would automatically transfer to my connecting flight to Quebec City. I dismissed it as a “Canadian” thing and turned my attention to wrestling with my luggage. I had to pack two suitcases, since the baggage weight limit is 50 lb. apiece. My aunt helped me check them in at Dulles, and I didn’t think I would have to handle them again until I had my host to help me. Fortunately, the airport provided luggage carts, so I loaded one up and started following the “Connections” signs again. They took me through a Customs check, where I handed in the declaration form I filled out and signed on the flight. (I wasn’t carrying any tobacco, liquor, or more than $10,000 (I wish), and I’m not planning on making a visit to a farm in Canada within the next two weeks, so I was good to go.)

I began to wonder a little bit when I discovered that all of the “Connections” desks were closed, and I had to follow everyone to the “Departures” level to drop off my bags and find my gate. When the elevator doors opened on the “Departures” level, I was found myself in a bustling crowd of people, all carting ungodly amounts of luggage. I tried to find the check-in desk for Air Canada, and I succeeded in finding a long line that looked like it led to the right area. I overheard a businessman behind me talking on his cell phone, venting his frustration over the fact that all of the baggage carousels and conveyor belts had broken down. Apparently, the reason the lines were so long was that everyone was being forced to pick-up and drop-off their luggage personally. I stayed in that line for a few minutes, grateful that my flight was scheduled to leave an hour and a half after my arrival in Montreal - thank goodness for long layovers. I felt even more relieved when I noticed on the overhead screen that it had been delayed another 30 minutes. I still wasn’t sure I was in the right line, though, so I turned around and asked the gentleman if I was in the Air Canada check-in line. He said that it was for passengers who had already checked in and needed to drop off their luggage, and he directed me to another area. I found a self-check-in machine and spent a few minutes trying to make it scan and accept my boarding pass. It finally recognized my passport, and I discovered that I was already checked-in, and I needed to find the baggage drop-off for Air Canada. (I was actually in the drop-off line for some Swiss airline the first time.) I saw several signs in front of me for Air Canada drop-off, and I joined the throng of waiting people. As I stood there munching on some nut clusters (being very glad I packed them, seeing as my lunch time was being spent transferring my own luggage), I noticed signs on the other side of the building that said “Drop-Off.” It looked like I was in the wrong line, and I was getting more and more confused and worried. I decided to hop out of that line and switch to the other line. It was much shorter, but when I got up to the desk, the woman said, “Oh, you already have your luggage tagged? You need to be in that line with everyone else.” And, much to my chagrine, she pointed to the line I’d just left. I briefly succumbed to a bit of frustration; I mean, could it be that difficult to make the signs say what they really mean? But there wasn’t much time to be frustrated, and after all, they were trying as hard as they could to help thousands of people in situations like mine, or even worse.

In fact, I wasn’t nearly as frustrated as I was scared at that point. I was just as likely to hear someone speak to me in French as in English, and my phone service was on roaming status. I didn’t know how I would contact my host family if I missed my flight. Fortunately, I didn’t have to worry about that for very long, because the belt system was partially functional by that point, and the airport personnel started sending people from my line over to a domestic baggage drop-off station. I was one of the first to be waved over, and it only took a few minutes to send my luggage on its way to the plane. I thought the worst was over, but then I found myself caught in the middle of another crowd of frustrated people at the entrance to the security checks. I finally made my way to the actual line for my gate area, which was a lot shorter than it looked because it was hidden behind another massive wall of people and luggage. There was another girl about my age who was also travelling alone in line behind me. I found it amusing that she was asking me questions about the checking process, since this was my first airport experience outside of the States. Their security checkpoints are much tighter than the ones in the U.S., and several people in front of me were being wanded and patted down. Fortunately, I remembered not to pack any liquids or gels in my carry-ons, and I decided not to wear denim or jewelry today, so I didn’t have any problems. I had to walk for what seemed like forever to get to my gate at the very end of Terminal A, and I was much relieved to find out that my flight had been delayed once again, giving me another half an hour to spare.  

4:30pm: Well, I settled down to wait and struck up a conversation with a young man sitting next to me. At first, I thought he was speaking another language, but it turned out I could actually understand him; he was just Australian. We were thrilled to discover that we were both going to study at Laval, and we were both waiting on the same flight. He doesn’t have much background in the French language, but he works for a bank outside of Melbourne and has travelled all over the world. He thought the FLE program would be an interesting summer experience. His only fear was that all of the other students would be younger than he is, since he’s in his early 30s. I think he’ll fit in quite well, though. I enjoyed talking with him for about half an hour, and then he was able to get an earlier flight. Perhaps we’ll see each other on campus sometime during our stay. It’s nice to have an acquaintance already – and one who speaks English, at that!

4:45pm: I have to say, I am loving this experience so far. Most of the airport staff are bilingual, and all of the announcements are made first in French, and then in English. It’s interesting if you pay close attention. Ah, they just announced that my flight has been delayed again, and it won’t be leaving until 5:30 – a full two hours after it was supposed to depart. Oh. And now it’s at a different gate. Woohoo, off I go again!

8:00pm: Alright, I’m in the phase now where I’m saying, “What in the world were you thinking when you signed up for this? Or WERE YOU THINKING?!!” *sigh* OK, I can handle this; just one step at a time.

11:00pm: A hot bath and a few strawberries later…I think I’ve calmed myself down now. The initial shock of arriving late in a foreign country to meet a woman I’ll be living with for over a month who speaks a different language and finding out that my luggage didn’t make the flight with me and worrying about whether or not I have my registration papers for the university…it hit me hard. But, I’m alright. It’s all in God’s hands, and as Mom said in her Facebook message to me, “Don’t be afraid…you’re supposed to do this.” (Funny, she didn’t even know what I’d been through today when she said that. Talk about divine encouragement.) I have one of my suitcases, which means that I have some clothes, few personal items, and no camera cables! So, until I get those, I won’t be able to upload any pictures. It’s not like I’ve had time to take many yet, anyway, though. There aren’t a lot of photo opportunities in the airport, especially when you’re frantically trying to make sure you catch your flight. Anyway, I’m extremely exhausted now, so I’m going to get some sleep and write about my experiences in more detail tomorrow.

Today...I woke up to the most lovely breeze and the sound of birds outside my window.  My room is so cute and comfortable.  (Ali, you would love it -- it's blue!)  My host mom prepared some fruit and coffee, and I am happy to say that their coffee is quite strong and extremely delicious.  I met her daughter, Elizabeth, and we all spent some time conversing in broken French and English about the "activitees organisees" that I will have the chance to participate in after classes.  It sounds like I will be quite busy.  An Air Canada employee arrived a little while ago with my second piece of luggage, so it looks like I'm all set.  God is so gracious...

Anyway, I'm going to go attempt to converse a little more and see what everyone is up to.  Au plaisir!