Finally, some good news.
And after a title like that, I have to start off with some more connerie. I called Auchan the other day, and after the lady on the line looked up my work order, was simply told to "be patient" and hung up on. Aside from being offended by that awkward departure from my expectations about customer service, I didn't have any idea what I was being told to be patient for, so I made Maria call again. Maria was told that, when I told the technician to tell me how much it would cost before beginning work, he took that as a request for a formal estimate. Which means that he went back to Auchan, filled out some paperwork, and had them mail me an estimate. By the mail. As in, the kind with a postman. And then, when I receive the estimate, I have to decide whether the cost is acceptable (phone-lady said 107 euros, but refused to take the order over the phone) and then mail it back to them. And then they'll call me to schedule an appointment. Which, judging by the last time I made an appointment, will take an additional week. Which leads me to this: what is wrong with this country?
On a much happier note, Wednesday marked the end of my school week (as far as I know, though I still have to verify that I am taking enough credits). My last class of the "week" is Wednesday from 4:30 to 7:30, and it's beginning Italian. My class was amazing. Our teacher is a 27 year old Italian woman, who was very friendly and fun during the first class. It was mostly conducted in Italian and encouraged us to talk to each other in Italian pretty immediately. We had to take turns with the "Hello, what's your name, my name is _____, I'm _____ years old" dialog that beginning language classes always start out with. We played a game with cut-out words like magnetic poetry, with different words in Italian that we had to trade with other groups to try and make sentences. It was amusing.
The kids in my class were great. They were a lot more friendly than the kids in my other classes, and several of them conversed with me at length during our break and on the tram back into the city. Wen I said I'd been having a hard time finding good French music one of them offered to bring me some. I guess that might just be the difference between a large lecture class and a smaller language class, but everyone was more friendly by several powers of ten. Plus, languages are fascinating and fun. I'm looking forward to going again already, and we only have it once a week. Lame.
The really impressive thing was how much faster the people in my class were catching onto things. I realize their maternal language is much closer to Italian than mine is, and that I was having to learn Italian through the occasional French explanation (from a teacher whose French has a marked Italian accent), but they were learning so much faster than anyone in my US foreign language classes has. And more willing to try to speak Italian from the first minute -- considering I had people in my junior-level French classes who refused to speak a sentence, this was a major change.
One very different note was the complaining that ensued when we were asked to purchase the textbook. First, I can't imagine a world in which a textbook and a book of exercises is not required for a beginning language class. Secondly, this is my ONLY class that even HAS a textbook (to my knowledge, and maybe I'm missing something big here, but I hope not) -- the two together will cost around 40 euros. The grumbling was incredible. I explained to my neighbors that in the States, I have to buy a textbook for every class, and that they usually cost about $100 each. When I converted that to euros for them they looked at me like I said that in the States, we eat kittens alive. Very, very different.
Last night, BABAOC had a party for the exchange students. BABAOC means Bienvenue à la Bordelaise, Association d'Ouverture Culturelle, and they're the student association charged with hosting events to teach foreigners about the region and get them meeting people. The party was at a club called Café des Sports at Place de la Victoire, which, apart from having a Girondins flag hanging behind the bar, has nothing to do with sports as far as I can tell. The theme was "Hawaiian", which meant they were giving away leis at the door. The club was open to everyone, but if you had a ticket from BABAOC, drinks were a lot cheaper. This struck me as really strange, considering OU's dry campus policy and its mortal fear of anyone thinking it endorses drinking, following the several alcohol-poisoning deaths a few years ago. I have decided that the problem with meeting people in clubs is that it’s too loud to actually converse, and by the time you go outside and start talking, you find they’re not really people you have any interest in forging a friendship with. Maybe a nightclub was not the best place to have a welcome party, considering there were a lot of students sitting at tables in corners and looking perplexed. Still, it was fun.
On a much happier note, Wednesday marked the end of my school week (as far as I know, though I still have to verify that I am taking enough credits). My last class of the "week" is Wednesday from 4:30 to 7:30, and it's beginning Italian. My class was amazing. Our teacher is a 27 year old Italian woman, who was very friendly and fun during the first class. It was mostly conducted in Italian and encouraged us to talk to each other in Italian pretty immediately. We had to take turns with the "Hello, what's your name, my name is _____, I'm _____ years old" dialog that beginning language classes always start out with. We played a game with cut-out words like magnetic poetry, with different words in Italian that we had to trade with other groups to try and make sentences. It was amusing.
The kids in my class were great. They were a lot more friendly than the kids in my other classes, and several of them conversed with me at length during our break and on the tram back into the city. Wen I said I'd been having a hard time finding good French music one of them offered to bring me some. I guess that might just be the difference between a large lecture class and a smaller language class, but everyone was more friendly by several powers of ten. Plus, languages are fascinating and fun. I'm looking forward to going again already, and we only have it once a week. Lame.
The really impressive thing was how much faster the people in my class were catching onto things. I realize their maternal language is much closer to Italian than mine is, and that I was having to learn Italian through the occasional French explanation (from a teacher whose French has a marked Italian accent), but they were learning so much faster than anyone in my US foreign language classes has. And more willing to try to speak Italian from the first minute -- considering I had people in my junior-level French classes who refused to speak a sentence, this was a major change.
One very different note was the complaining that ensued when we were asked to purchase the textbook. First, I can't imagine a world in which a textbook and a book of exercises is not required for a beginning language class. Secondly, this is my ONLY class that even HAS a textbook (to my knowledge, and maybe I'm missing something big here, but I hope not) -- the two together will cost around 40 euros. The grumbling was incredible. I explained to my neighbors that in the States, I have to buy a textbook for every class, and that they usually cost about $100 each. When I converted that to euros for them they looked at me like I said that in the States, we eat kittens alive. Very, very different.
Last night, BABAOC had a party for the exchange students. BABAOC means Bienvenue à la Bordelaise, Association d'Ouverture Culturelle, and they're the student association charged with hosting events to teach foreigners about the region and get them meeting people. The party was at a club called Café des Sports at Place de la Victoire, which, apart from having a Girondins flag hanging behind the bar, has nothing to do with sports as far as I can tell. The theme was "Hawaiian", which meant they were giving away leis at the door. The club was open to everyone, but if you had a ticket from BABAOC, drinks were a lot cheaper. This struck me as really strange, considering OU's dry campus policy and its mortal fear of anyone thinking it endorses drinking, following the several alcohol-poisoning deaths a few years ago. I have decided that the problem with meeting people in clubs is that it’s too loud to actually converse, and by the time you go outside and start talking, you find they’re not really people you have any interest in forging a friendship with. Maybe a nightclub was not the best place to have a welcome party, considering there were a lot of students sitting at tables in corners and looking perplexed. Still, it was fun.
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