Comprenez-vous? Say what? Oui, mais non. Hmm. Désole?

Its been two and a half months in La Villette already. I cannot believe it. How time flies. Obviously I'm well settled into the routine of the college and surely my French must be improving by now? Hmm, scratch that last statement, for my French is far from (some nice alliteration there for you) a comfortable zone of comprehension at this stage. Instead I have developed a very odd and trés bizarre dialect I like to call Franglais, or Frenglish for those of you belonging to the pure English speaking world. I feel like the half blood of Europe, a child of two worlds, torn between both and yet belonging to neither. Its all very confusing. Ma tete pauvre!

How has this happened? Pour les deux mois j'ai passé ma vie á Paris et maintenant je sais plus les mots francaise jusqu'a je suis arrivé ici. But I haven't grasped the grammer. La grammaire. Zut! What the hell is with the past tenses? Maybe if I actually bothered to revise them I would be fine. Alas I've turned into that schoolboy, the one who shows up every morning looking dishevelled and underfed, copying students homework behind the sheds before class begins. I am literally being carried on the backs of other students through my muddled semester at La Villette. Merci beaucoup tous le monde!


Prendre Mardi dernière pour un exemple. OK I know I keep switching languages but bear with me it here. Its a symptom of the franglais. My very own créole langue!! Anyway back to last Tuesday. (brace yourself for another of my signature long winded rants) First off I think I deserve a pat on the back for going in at all as Naomi was visiting and I was in holiday mode. Anyway I went it to present my big urban development for a large site in north Paris. Nothing too fancy, just my urban plan, the site section explaining the horizontal division of uses within the site, the areas of all the zones - commercial, cultural, residential, etc, concept stuff on housing models, office develpoments, transpot links, sustainable develpoment, un batiment pour recharge votre véhicule électrique etc.

It turns out I had got the brief wrong again. Quelle surprise! Cette problème avec la barrier de la langue - ca m'enerve! We had to have a written explanation of what we wanted to do, not a diagrammatic one. Everyone handed in booklets, I had presentation sheets. It was all a bit awkward. I tried to explain that I got the brief confused but I stopped halfway, realised I simply wasn't arsed and just shrugged my shoulders. Comments were made. Helpful I'm sure. If I understood. Encore j'ai ete perdu. A French student was given my project to write comments on after class so I could develop it up. She took my sheets, excused herself and left. They had gone through her program and through mine so I followed her lead, packed up and left. But that it seems, was a mistake.

I was out the door and halfway down the open courtyard when I heard 'Bran-dan!!' behind me. I turned around to see a fellow student beckoning me to return to the classroom. Holy God. It wasn't over. Back to the classroom, some smiling comments from the professor, me head down, nodding, lost; completely lost. I was given another students handup and sent off with it at the end of the class, I assume I am to copy it in some form but its so tedious to look at, je ne veux pas le lire! Anyway I must start that god awful booklet now so I best sign off now.

Á bientot

ENSA La Villette Vs DIT Bolton St

First of all, I know that I am starting to loose my momentum on updating this blog but I shall struggle on with it for the next month or so, then I'm finally returning home! L'ecole sera finir! Finallement!!

Something I've been meaning to do since I moved to Paris is to write up a comparision between the French college and college at home. So here goes...

Cirriculum
The cirriculum is far more flexible in ENSA (ÉCOLE NATIONALE SUPERIEURE D'ARCHITECTURE)than Bolton Street. First of all there ARE options. Yes, you heard me, you can actually pick and mix subjects that interest you within the field of architecture and not be handed a set course like you are in Dublin. There are nine themes within the course, the idea being that a student selects a theme of their choice and then selects one of the studio options and some secondary lectures within that theme. External to these themes are construction classes, law, history and philosophy. There are several of these classes to choose from and the student must pick one from each of the four categories. As an erasmus student however, the options are more flexible as the themes can be ignored and no subject or section is mandatory. Thus the student picks what they like to make up the 30 credits for the semester. There is certainly no doubt that the college has a wide spectrum of themes, each with different focus. These range from the Metropoles of the Pacific Arch to Arts and Philosophy.

Speaking to several european Erasmus students at ENSA I have found that many praise the college for its organised cirriculum and huge variety of modules and options. As a Bolton Street student it took a few weeks to get my head around all the choices available but now I can say that I'm pleased with my tailor made course. The fact that you have set your own subjects gives you a more personla claim over the course, these are your subjects, you have chosen them because you find them interesting and it is now your responsibility to attend the classes and get your work done. This can only be a positive approach to learning.

Studio/Classes Framework
Again there are huge differences between Paris and Dublin. In Paris, studio is one day per week and takes place in a classroom. Students show up with work done, the professor speaks for awhile at the head of the classroom and then goes to speak to each student indiviually about their work. This can also happen with the normal classes as most professors give students an ongoing project/dissertation as part of their overall assessment for the end of the semester. Thus there is a lot of one to one discussion from week to week so you gotta have your dictionary open!! Pin up crits are a regular occurance here too, think third year but in a foreign language. Oh what fun!

There is a very different mindset to Bolton Street; students cannot meet their professors outside of the one studio/class during the week as professors leave the college grounds as soon the lesson is finished (they have no offices on campus0. Thus students are left to develop their work alone which is great for individual development although design development is sluggish as there is so little regular feedback from professors. The designs I have seen to date have been quite poor by Bolton Street standards.

Support
There are some serious deficiencies in Paris with regards to student support. Simple services like lockers are limited and there are no set studio rooms; the upside of which is you must carry all your stuff in and out of the college everyday. This can be challenging with models in a cramped metro! Also the library only allows students to take out a maximium of 2 books at a time for ONE week. However, there are more books available than Dublin including a decent sized sociology and philosophy section within the library (the french love to theorise design to death). The magazines and journals are stored in a seperate room similiar to the library where staff tolerate some quite banter and interaction between students which is nice.

There is no year head or senior person to represent the different groups or classes. Essentially there is nobody to answer questions such as: 'When do exams start?' 'What do I do if I fail?' 'Where can I find my professor outside his college hours?' There is a noticeboard in the hallway but information put up on that has proved false several times to date.

Erasmus support is sadly lacking too. There is no proper erasmus coorindinator, just a female paper pusher who processes your papers and looks at you with disdain when you enter her office. Administration office hours are ridiculous in the Parisian college - a halfday on Monday and Friday with the office closed to students on Wednesday. There are no French classes for the weaker French speaking students (me!), a service that is readily available for Erasmus students in Bolton Street. Erasmus events are organised in DIT that allows foreign students to mingle and make new friends outside of the classroom, unfortunatley no such service exists in ENSA.

DIT have been immensely helpful on their part. Any queries or problems I have had to date have been addressed within 24 hours of me sending an email to either Noel Brady or the Erasmus office. They are extremely supportive and patient with regards to paper work and complications on my part. This has really helped ease the often stressful transition from Ireland to Paris.

Fini

The points outlined above are the main differences between Bolton Street and ENSA. The course here is not necessarily bad, they just see the world and its workings in a different way to us. Its a cultural divide that is both challenging and rewarding. You discover words in French that do not have a counterpart in English, a new way of describing things and understanding the world. You learn to readjust your ideas of the world at large and you see things from a new perspective. I came here to learn a language and I've failed. Instead I've adopted a new culture, a different mindset and a fresh pair of eyes. The world is alive with possibility again. Thank you Paris!

Ryanair: Because life's not fair

I often amaze myself by the things that I can do, the situations I can overcome, the difficulties I can deal with and the results I can achieve with a little focus and determination. What amazes me more however, is how ridiculously relaxed and absent-minded I can often be. This relaxed nature arises only in situations in which I feel familiar, and nothing feels more familiar than the repeated torture of air travel.

I booked my flight home, my return to the homeland for a few days of beer guzzling, torrential rain mixed with scorching sun and some leprechaun hugging. It was gonna be great. And it was. I had fun, I meet friends and family, had drinks and good food and basked in the unusally warm April weather. Life was good. Then Monday came around. I was to return to Paris. I casually rechecked my flight details, something was nagging me about the times. But it was as I rememebered, the flight was departing at 9.10pm. I sorted out some banking matters before meeting Naomi and Caroline for a quick drink, then I was off to the airport.

I was a little behind schedule so I took a taxi to the airport to save time. Arrived at 7pm - super, just the two hour window I like to leave myself for all the checking in and security crap that has become part of the hassle of flying. Let me just say now that if we were part of mainland Europe, I would absolutely prefer the train. Anyway back to the airport. I walk up to the automated check-in machine in the Aer Lingus departure area, these machines are just so cool! So I key in my flight code and a message flashes up ''your flight has departed - please contact the helpdesk''. I was a little drunk I must confess, I'd had two pints before I left city centre and so I giggled slightly, thinking the machine had made an error. It happens all the time after all. I walked over to another machine. I entered the code again. Same message. Slightly more sober now. Maybe I should check the departure screen in the main entrance? I run over and there it is...or rather there it isn't - the flight has flown. Oh nuts... I pull out my flight details, it definately said 9.10pm. I open it - I was right! Oh no, wait, 9.10pm is the arrival time...bugger

So there I was. Standing in the middle of Dublin Airport, no flight to catch, nowhere to go and soon to be stung for the price of a new flight. Oddly enough I was delighted(perhaps the beer played a large part of this?). I hopped on a bus and headed back to college to try and book another flight online. When I got there a terrible realisation hit me - with so little time to book a return flight I would have to keep costs down and fly with...Ryanair. Christ! So I did it. I booked my flight with them, gave myself 2 extra days in Ireland and headed West the next morning to visit the family for one night. So this was the silver lining, getting a few days extra at home. Sweet.

But all too soon the time was up and I found myself back on the train to Dublin and from there, the bus to the airport. Just as we climbed the ramp to the Arrivals entrance at the airport I pulled out my booking reference and a wave of nausea hit me. It was Ryanair. I had no bags to check in. This meant I had to check in online. The time to do so had passed two hours previously. Aha, Ryanair had not finished with me yet. Up to the checkout desk and I was unhelpfully redirected to the ''helpdesk'' (i wonder how long before the staff will be instructed to spit on passengers?!). Here I paid my ''fine'' of €20 because Ryanair doesn't operate like normal airlines. I bit my tongue, coughed up the cash and dragged what was left of my tattered wallet and my will to live to the departure lounge. All went swimmingly from this point; I even enjoyed a refreshing walk/hike to Pier D to catch the plane, then back again to the main terminal to the NEAREST atm to get money for the bus from Beauvais to Paris. We boarded the flight without any problems and I was delighted to find that the seats were standard - no more extra costs! My poor debit card couldn't take much more. The one way flight had now cost me more than my original return flight AND I had been downgraded to Ryanair. What luck eh?

Needless to say, I will be extremely vigilant with my flight details from now on and I pray this will never happen again. I would sell my soul to avoid ever flying with Ryanair again but I've been making that wish for years now.
Oh Well, as the French say, C'est la vie!! :D

**In my defence, Ryanair typically email you to remind you to check in online 5 days before you fly out. I believe they've extended this to 15 days or something now but there's so much fine print that its hard to know where you stand with them. Either way I received an email with my booking reference only (which I printed), I did NOT receive an email to remind me to log in online. Surely this is a disgrace. I'd complain but Ryanair actually don't have a complaints department. It doesn't exist. Seriously. Anyway, that's the end of my rant. For now..........

The Friday Photo # 3

Celebrating Easter with some Irish chocolate. yummy...

Easter is here!!

Finally the time is here; its my last day at la Villette before the Easter holidays and I'm so EGGcited! :D Have booked a flight home for a few days next week, it will be great to see everyone again. Just have to endure one more construction class at 6.30pm and I'm home free.

This week has been my toughest to date. I have signed up for two studios for the semester, though bizarrely one is much more demanding than the other despite their equal weight in credits. These things come down to the individual professors in the end I guess. Tuesday's studio was first in line but luckily I had joined forces with two French girls the week before which really lightened the site analysis workload. Furthermore they did all the talking at the crit so I just had to stand there and look pretty (harder than it sounds when I'm in desperate need of a haircut!) The studio went well, there are only 6 students altogether so its a very intimate class. Its the only subject I have where nobody knows any level of English so I have to scrape by on the little French that I know! Its fun though. Its even given me some ideas for my thesis at home next year. Success!

The second studio on the Wednesday is more demanding. We are currently desiging a metallurgy workshop that strictly adheres to the standards of the local planning conditions. Some seriously bizarre rules-we've all had to include a car entrance on site, this site being on a corner with zero visibility; its a death trap. oh well... Anyway James and I had to design from scratch to a final presentation standard in one week as we had misinterpreteted the brief several times over the past 3 weeks or so(When you only meet the lecturer once a week, this kind of information is slow to get passed on). We got all our work done in time (just about, printing is hell here) and now all we had to do was present it. Thats fine in theory but our professor loves to talk the projects to death; it took him 7 hours to get thru 25 students. insane!! he keeps asking questions and all I want to do is take him by the hand and say 'see here I drew it, look at it, don't talk about it!' The presentation standard varied considerably from okay cad drawings to 'road kill' sketch drawings. Frankly, I was a little embarrassed for some people.

So we presented our work, I went first and got a short crit (15mins) due to my stuttering French -hoorah for poor linguistic skills! James stood up next and went on for ages, his French is really improving, he has truly left me in the dust on that one. Still though, it meant his crit went on much longer. mmwwwhahahaha!!!

Then came today, the last day, whoop-de-doo! First class this morning we had to talk (again?) to our professor individually about a detail we want to study as part of that class for the semester. Through stuttering French I somehow managed to express my choice to the teacher. Now all I have to do is figure out what he wants done for after Easter!! Its nearly 6pm now so I'd better get going. My last class today involves yet more discussions on building study choices so not really looking forard to it. Still at least its the last of this week's load.

Gonna sign off now, sorry for any spelling mistakes, still not used to these french keyboards!
à bientot...

The Friday Photo #2

My poor dictionary is getting a beating of late

Fashion funnies #2

This is no joke: everyone has one of these. Also this image is definately the most fashionable version I've seen to date. Nothin like seeing young professionals walking down the street pulling their granny trollies after them! :D

Resistance is Futile

Jean -Luc from Star Trek: The Next Generation

I surprised by Paris when I moved here. The last time I had been here as a teenager I had found the Parisians rude and blunt, not a friendly people by any stretch of the imagination. One of my recurring memories is the name that our bus driver referred to us as– The Crazy Irish. Well, 50 Irish teenagers ARE going to be anything but sane, that’s a large pool of energy and hormones after all!!

This time around though, things are different. I, for one, have matured a little. When I first arrived here and tried to speak in French I got a warm response from most people – quelle surprise!! They just love it when you try to speak ze French, a little too much I think! They smile and encourage you - I would often struggle, say my French is poor and revert back to English. Most people would have none of that. ‘Oh but you MUST try’ they would say, in French of course. The mindset in France is that French is a precious language, its part of their national identity and it must be used with pride and care.

Herein lies the next problem. There is a proper way to speak in French; it’s all very formal and accurate. Whereas someone in Ireland would tolerate a foreigner saying something in English like ‘I is looking for the station of trains’ the French compulsively jump in mid-sentence to correct your poor grammar. ‘Yes speak our language, but speak it correctly’. The weird thing is, after awhile you become as anal as them about getting it accurate. Suddenly language becomes more than a means of communication; it’s an expression of your knowledge and syntax abilities. Suddenly you take pride in a well composed sentence; it’s a thing of beauty after all.

And then they have you. All of a sudden its bad taste to snack on the metro, everything must be debated at length and you long for your own small fluffy dog. You come to expect the state to redistribute wealth, to level differences and you see Paris as the centre of the world. Your name is now ‘Fay-nay’ and you shorten your first name to something intelligible like Benoit!

There it is; somehow, somewhere and sometime in the past few months it has happened: you’ve become assimilated. C’est la vie!

I don’t know what exactly it is about the French psyche that creates such a powerful and overriding single identity but its signs can be seen throughout the city. There are twice as many Muslims in France as Protestants and Jews; the Arabic culture has even become part of mainstream French culture. Add in a large number of Algerians and there you have it, the melting pot that is France. Not forgetting of course the Swiss-French, the Belgians, the Americans and many other Europeans. But you cannot tell them apart psychologically, they are all French. They have all been assimilated. Welcome to the cube: welcome to France.

The Borg Cube Spacecraft

Fashion funnies #1

Even the farmers here have a sense of fashion...

The Friday Photo #1