If you go into the woods today...

Brendan's guide on how to make your life even more complicated; because living and studying abroad in a foreign language is not challenging enough!!

Hoorah, today was my first site visit as part of my 'Site & Details' class. Perhaps I should clarify that last sentence. It was actually the second site visit, I missed the first through a combiniation of sleeping in, the train strikes on the same day and the eventual dwindling of all enthusiam that I would ever make it there before dusk. Ok, so back to today's visit.

Both James and I were running late as per usual this morning. We agreed to meet at the metro station near the site, though neither of us knew where the site actually was (aka we had no address) All I had written in my notebook was the metro station followed by INSEP. What the hell that meant was beyond me. (of course if I'd googled it, I would have found www.insep.fr straight away) I arrived at the metro station half an hour late, but James was still 20 minutes behind me so I decide to go in search of this mysteriuos INSEP. By shear luck I took the exit from the metro station that brought me onto the street right outside the local tourist office. They even had a map on the external wall. And on that map the INSEP, marked as a large plot to the south. Woohoo! (the INSEP is the National Centre of Sport and Physical Education by the way, a campus like development in the middle of woodlands)

Now the area this building is in is called 'Bois de Vincennes'/'Vincent's Woods'. This was no fancy urban area either, it really was a woods. I learnt off the map on the wall and headed down a road through the local fauna. The thing about a forest is the lack of landmarks and street signs to guide you. Plus I had no map on me. I got lost, turned back, changed my mind and turned back again and then found a second map standing on the corner of the forest path I was on. I knew where I was for now. All I had to do to get to my destination was go down the abandonned side road and take a left at the end. Not too bad, just down the lane though the thick forest on my own, toward the large vehicle blockades at the end. Ok, it felt really dodgy(think Furry Glen, Phoenix park). Things weren't improved when a hooded guy stepped out from the bushes halfway down the same lane. There are a load of shortcuts through the forest and people seem to use them regularly. Crazy!! Still, easy place to mug someone if I'm short on cash later in the year!! :D

Anyway I found the centre eventually in the end. You had to enter through a visitor centre with turnstyles, so I turned and left. James rang, he was at the centre but at the other side, so I headed over to meet him. I told him the situation and we decided to head home. First though, he talked me into circling the grounds to see if we could see anything. We were an hour and a half late at this stage. Some work was being done on some of the buildings on the other side of the grounds' fence and we both began to realise we would never find the building we were looking for. Its hard to find a building when you don't know which one you're looking for!!

Again shear chance came into play and we went for a closer look at a new build at the end of the site. They had created an entrance here for site works so we stuck our heads in and a guard came over to us. In our dodgiest french ever we tried to communicate the following facts:
1. Is this the building the architecture students are visiting today?
2. Our professor is Mr Poirier
3. We're running really late
4. Excuse our bad French, we're Irish (that comment always gets a laugh. They think we're a bit mad!)
The guy starts blabbing away, I pick up 'follow me' and he leads us into the huge building. Up some stairs, then he stops to question a man; back down a hallway, up another stairs and suddenly we're in a site office. Some more blabbing to the woman at the desk and the 'they're irish' pops up again. A small giggle. She gets on the phone, and another man appears at the door. We follow him wondering what the hell is going on, around a corner and then they're they are - our class. Hooray!! The guide starts giving it loads that we were late etc etc but our escort explained our scenario 'They're Irish'!

So that was it, we had made it eventually and still got another hour of the tour around the building. It was great, I even attached some photos from the visit below for you viewing pleasure! Enjoy.

A bientot

The Local Architecture

I went for a stroll today to find a few local sites for a design project in college. Less than 5 minutes form my apartment I was confronted with a terrifying form - my worst design project had been realised; my hideous design tendencies had come to fruition in the very city in which I was now a resident!

Holy God, the horrific deconstructivist phase that has haunted my college design work appeared before me at the end of the street - the ghost of my future career perhaps? An apparition to foretell the monostosities I was capable of inflicting on the world?

Sure it looks harmless as it bookends the Rue Pelleport but walk down the left side of the building and brace yourself. Someone has gone a bit over the top on angular planes and the facade proportional treatment is beyond words. I'm still in shock.

Needless to say I've been shocked into a confirmation of my realisations last year. Why go angular when you can go ninety degrees baby? The simple design is often the most pleasing. Anyway that's my rant over. But please people, let this be a lesson to you all. There's a price to pay for these expressionist styles of architecture. Fini.

'A little less conversation, a little more action...'

The above title was the theme of the week as I suffered even more excruciating 3 hours talks about what we were GOING to do in studio rather than actually starting the work! Little did I know that by mid-week I would be eating these words, brought to my knees by a strong accent and a weak tongue, the latter of course belonging to me!

Studio work actually started on Tuesday and it was fine. I've made my first friend who doesn't speak English-horrah!! The wonderfully friendly Italien Chiara (pronouced khey-aragh) threw me a lifeline in a small class of strangers and I was extremely greatful. (do unfriendly Italiens exist? I love them all!) Needless to say the conversation was a bit of a stop/start effort but we got there in the end!! She even invited me to join her and her friends one of the weekends just to get some french speaking practice in. Sweet! And good God I need all the practice I can get. That point was hammered home in no uncertain terms this afternoon in college.

Its was after 2pm and already I was late for my first appearance at AEDD (architecture, environment and durable development). I should note that this is the second week of the semester but due to the on-going reshuffling of subject choices this was my first class. (i should also add that the re-shuffling is on-going, but that's a blog entry for another day!) Anyway it worked out fine, I arrived at exactly the same time as the lecturer so I was home free. The lecture starts. I sit back, absorbing the chatter, waiting to grasp the general direction of the conversation. It doesn't come though. I try to pick out words but there's nothing. I listen closely to that clear Parisian accent I've come to expect and suddenly realise that its not clear at all. Ugh, if I could just stop that nasal whine! 'Don't panic, don't panic' - this mantra usually gets me through the small chaotic moments of my life; but these moments have lately become so regular as to fuse into a constant loop, a continuous, confusing, language maze. Now don't get me wrong. There ARE advantages to being this wonderfully ignorant of what's going on around you!! (to name but a few: insults fly over your head, deadlines don't phase you as you generally don't know that there IS a dealine, charities, scammers and homeless people can be shunned with a blank stare and a quick 'sorry-don't speak french' etc etc)

Anyway back to the class. Its four hours long. FOUR HOURS! These people LOVE to talk. Thankfully its the first class this week in which we actually take a break in the middle so I get to go outside for a minute and get a bit of fresh air (more correctly, i get to share in the cancer cloud that surrounds my fellow smoking classmates) Back to the seminar again and I quickly run up to the professor, explain in toddler french that I'm an erasmus student, please sign this and put me on your class list. Here's a copy of my passport, birth cert, registration, social number, address, references, jeans size, essay i wrote in primary school etc etc. Ok that last sentence was was a fib but you get my meaning!! She does all that and asks me one question: 'where are you from?'' All I hear is static. Huh? I figure it out, blurt out a weak 'Irlande' then scuttle back to the protection of my seat in the midst of the class. The static now gets louder and the class hushes. We're back to work. To say I was focused on the lecture at this point is stretching the truth just a little more than flexibility will allow. I was in my own world. 'Tonight I'm gonna check for cheap flights for the end of May, must get home for the Rory Gallagher Festival/Ballyshannon Session Extraordinaire!! I've been meaning to do it all week.' The sound of rustling pages brought me back to the classroom and suddenly everyone was writing. What the hell was going on? A minute later I manage to grasp the professor say 'We'll discuss it here rather than writing it down' or something to that effect. 'Who wants to start?'

PANIC sets in. Absolute, blind, crazy panic. What were we supposed to be writing and discussing? Oh no, I'm screwed. Not only do I not know what we're writing about but I'm gonna have to speak about it to the prof in front of the class, and I don't understand her! That converstaion was not my idea of fun, especially in front of 30 odd students. The time to focus had come. What were they discussing? Think damn it, think! Ok its something to do with memoirs (dissertations) but I had no idea what that was at the time. Common sense kicked in, it must be an essay of some kind. The first student starts talking. I pick up something about a public park - oh god no - the prof is responding to the student and the student is replying back again - oh no its a full blown conversation. Where's the exit? FOCUS!! The next student is a low speaker, the one after that has a weird accent, the one after that talks way too fast, the one after that, no wait, something about transport -huh? The poeple who have spoken start to outnumber those who haven't. I stare at my blank page... A last minute burst of energy and panic kicks in and I start scribbling furiously. Ok I think its something about finding a project that you want to investigate with regards to sustainable development. I want to pick something unique but how can I do that when I don't even know what everyone else has suggested? This is my first class, I'm unprepared, no fair!!

The people at my desk start talking. Crunch time is nearly here. Then I have an idea. Now all I need is simple French to explain it in as concise a manner as possible. It comes in bits but eventually I jot it down. Then suddenly its all over. The prof is bored, calls an end to the class saying 'could those who haven't spoken please submit your idea on a page.' I know; you're wondering how I understood this, right? Well the professor looked bored, announced something quickly, everyone started packing up and some people were handing up written notes. I ran up to see what they said then ran back to jot my down afresh, without all the crossed out words! Then I finally left, legged it to the metro and got home in no time at all. I've been supping red wine since to calm my nerves. I wonder what they'll think of my suggestion? Guess I'll find out next week. This is what I wrote:

''The House of Yesterday''-an investigation of protected and historic buildings and how we can develop ecological and sustainble schemes for their uses and occupation now, and in the future''

What can of choas will this wreck for me next week? I'll keep you all posted...

C-C-C-Changes...

Welcome to the new remodelled blue frog page! Please note some of my recent alterations:

- My twitter comments can now be found in the grey box to the right of the screen, below the orange section. Join me and my friends at www.twitter.com now - all the one-liner update perks of facebook without the social obligations!

- 'The little book of brendo' at the book of the page has been removed due to lack of content and interest on my part. Please find my Paris social calendar located at here from now on.

- I have just added the current version of my college timetable, check it out and be jealous my Bolton street friends!!

- I'm currently unsure whether to add a guestbook; does demand require it? Anonymous comments can be left at the bottom of each of my blog entries you know?!

- Last but not least, I'm eager to hear you're feedback. Do you like the new layout? Please leaves some comments at the end of this entry.

That's all for now. Please note that the new layout has not yet been applied to my architecture or erasmus pages. I'll have them updated within the next week.

à bientot mes amies....

My College Timetable

Here is a copy of my current college timetable: (double click on timetable to open a larger version)

PIMPING MY BLOG!!

HEY EVERYONE
JUST DOING A LITTLE REDECORATING OVER THE WEEKEND SO IF YOU'RE ON THIS SITE AND IT LOOKS A BIT MENTAL THAT CAUSE I'M ALTERNATING LAYOUTS, COLOURS AND THE GENERAL PRESENTATION OF THE BLOG. EVERYTHING WILL BE RUNNNING SMOOTHLY BY MONDAY - PROMISE :D

French Humour

Here are some youtube video links to give you a sample of the French sense of humour.

1) Advert with English subtitles.

2) French comedian Florence Foresti does two sketches of her Amy Winehouse and Modanna

A little french required for Madonna


3) A clip from Florence Foresti's stand up performances
(Good level of French required)

French Film Follies

Ok so I grabbed the bull by the horns and joined Elsa and her friends for a night at the cinema and got my first taste of just how confusing college is gonna be next week!

I knew from earlier in the week that the group were going and that I was welcome to join them if I wished. So I texted Elsa (in french of course) and she replies that they're goin to see 'Ce que pensent les hommes!' (translation-'what men think') Now here was my first crucial mistake. In the text she replied 'lol' at my poor attempt at french. I mistook that as the name of the film we were going to see (LOL is showing at the minute by the way) and that Elsa was explaining it was a chick flick. But I was wrong. The film we actually went to see was 'He's just not that into you', a title poorly translated by french cinema if you ask me!

Anyway there's more: the chick flick reference kinda threw me so I googled LOL for a review. THAT film is not a chick flick so I was ok with that. So I replied to Elsa that I had read a review, its seemed fine, yes I'd join them. Her reply was 'whoa have no idea what you just said, have you seen it already? reply back in english!' (Turns out review is not 'revoir' - that means to have seen something already!) Anyhow, we finally clarify times, location and name of the cinema. All I have to do now is get there, right?...

I take the metro. Its so handy and the cinema is on my line which is great. I find the street no problem and even the cinema. 'She said it was called Gaumont Opera something...ah Gaumont Opera Premiere, there it is.' I'm early. This has never happened before. I start gettin anxious. Maybe there's another cinema of the same branch up the street and I'm at the wrong one? I start walking. Halfway down the street I realised I'm just being silly and start walking back. Then when I get back I look across the road. F**k I WAS right, there's a cinema opposite me with the same name! Which one is it? I cross the road to check it out but can't find a listing for LOL (i'm still thinking its that film). I ring Elsa. No response. She rings me a few minutes later. 'Where are you?' I tell her where I am. Its the wrong one. 'Across the road, on the other side of the junction' So I cross over. They're not there. She rings again. 'No its the OTHER side of the junction' Huh? Then I see it. Its smaller and only a few doors up from where I was. Its called 'Gaumont Opera FRANCAIS'...

So we go in, we queue at the ticket machine and surprise surprise it won't accept any of my cards. We have to go a cash desk, skip the queue and then leg it to the screen. Its jammers. We get the last of the front row seats and settle down to the film. Thank the lord its in English! (french subtitles, mmwwhahahaha!)

La Villa Savoye

All those years of Corbusian-bashing lecturers have finally resulted in an exciting field trip today. Yes; James, Elsa, Leo and myself nerded it up and went to see what I consider the most iconographical of Jeanneret's domestic designs - La Villa Savoye. It was great to see the building up close and personla, in the flesh so to speak. Anyway I'll rave more about the house in my architecture section (right side menu of this page) and spare the non designers the boredom of reading my over zealous ramblings!

My Room

Just took a quick photo of my room last night to show it off to you all! :D The exterior shutters are closed on the window incase you think i live in a darkness! The coving along the top of the walls are beautifully detailed and yes, my bed is just a mattress but its comfy! There's loads of space which is a nice change from my box room in Dublin! (miss you really mobhi road!)