Growing confidence

…is the order of the day in many areas of my life! The picture above represents something which I have been longing to do for some time, albeit half-heartedly in the UK. A commission from my classmates, to paint a picture for a keen fisherman (also a valuable and almost retiring member of the teaching team at our school), was the prime excuse to buy a few canvases. I love the feel of painting on canvas, the rough texture enables a return to oil colour techniques with the acrylic paint. True, it is the first time I have used the canvas from that manufacturer, and the first time in which I have used that type of paint for a finished oil technique painting, but I am happy with the results. The colours in real life are not as dramatic as the photograph would lead one to believe, but tomorrow I aim to wet the canvas and ascertain if the varnish will brighten the colour excessively. It is very much alike to learning a language, getting back into painting: one has to experiment, to get to know the individual components, also the combinations in which they work, before they begin to perform what the artist or author demands!  Genuine praise and criticism are very valuable in both processes. Thankfully, in painting, I have not had to face the same kind of criticism or manner of correction as I have with learning a language. I understand that people do not like to hear their mother tongue “murdered”, but at the same time, it is not constructive to the self confidence, to be criticised for one’s language harshly- confidence to speak a foreign tongue is very fragile indeed, and professors of language need to be partly skilled in psychological subjects as well as simple teaching!

Negative things aside, I was pleased to have got through the exams, I believe with a passable grade which will enable me to move on to the next level, starting next week. We have nothing except a social dinner on Wednesday, at which I hope to present the picture to the teacher. He is known personally to me, although he has never taught me; most of my classmates were taught by him in their first block, when they were still very nervous and shy immigrants. He is a great guy, and as I a) did not have much confidence in the quality of my work, and b) did not want to rip off my fellow students, most of whom have minimal incomes, I charged simply for the materials to make the painting. All the same, the fact that my work is liked and perhaps even appreciated, spurs me on to try even more painting whenever I have the time. The law of time means that I will have to cut some other activity (i.e. computer time!) but many would not argue with that!

Having put the exams out of the way for at least three months, I am happy to be looking forward to the next level, and a new professor. I am also looking forward to discovering if there are any Anglophones among the 50 or so new students who begin next week. Although it is great for practise to speak French in the canteen at lunchtimes, several times I have felt swamped by Spanish or Arabic! English speakers are emphatically in the minority here!

Well, I may be in a linguistic minority, but if I can speak to others through pictures, I will be almost as happy! The recipient of my last painting was pleased to receive it as a birthday gift, though every time I look at the photo, I keep thinking of adjustments for “next time”.

Developments

As always, when the creative bug bites, I have to get working immediately before the mood is lost. Yesterday, I was pleasantly surprised to see what I could achieve with the correct motivation. I finally got my paints into action and proved to my relief that they performed as well as anything I used in England. Although the subject was a long-incomplete project, a picture of our Doudonne, I managed to complete all the painting to a sufficiently finished stage to permit hanging, after only two hours’ work. I am immensely pleased with the result and motivated to continue with my other projects, also to keep alive the small but potent flame of creativity which has recently been stifled behind the drapes of learning hard fact and lessons. In the case of this particular portrait, less is more; I feel that the first stage (above) was in fact just as acceptable as the final melange of oil and watercolour technique. I am now in possession of enough confidence to tackle canvases, and with a little more patience at my drawing skills, also work on other paintings for commissions. My ambition is to have a gallery of our animals for the hallway, but tackling a black cat’s portrait is rather more difficult!

Yesterday, not only was creativity blooming, but also the sunshine, and we made the most of a crisp autumn afternoon to take a saunter in the neighbourhood. The leaves of many trees were turning colour, though I did not fulfil the ambition to bring home a brace of red maple leaves as souvenirs!

We visited the local library; though it has a few English books, the collection reflects the neighbourhood. I am going to apply for membership, as Sylvie did, so that we can borrow various books to aid with my Francisation and possibly eventually, medicine. The underwhelming exterior hides a beautiful new library, and I look forward to spending some evenings there in the winter when a sortie into Montréal is not such an attractive proposition!

The power of speech

I always enjoyed being able to talk to people, especially discussing subjects which were mutually interesting! The chance to speak to more interesting people occurs each time I go to school, or have an outing with the school, an experience which it is almost impossible to write negatively about.

This week has been somewhat slightly different from the routine class sessions, especially as we had an outing yesterday. On commencing the course, we were told that we would be touring the Grande Bibliotheque de Montréal as part of the cultural integration programme. Of course, being already au fait with most of that institution, I rather expected that it would be old hat for me; I was pleasantly wrong!

It seemed to me rather as though there were a few mountains made from mole hills in the organising, especially as not everyone was cognisant with the Metro. Added to that, I began the day a little stressed, as a result of taking a bus which took at least 30 minutes longer than normal due to traffic conditions and pouring rain! Added to that, I was supposed to rendezvous at the school rather than wait in the terminal for the other students and teachers, and only just caught a bus in time; it seemed rather silly to pass the same spot at least 5 times in one day, and made me wish even harder to possess a car!

Finally the group of 45 or so students was assembled at Longueuil and took the short hop via Metro to Berri station, right beneath the library. On arrival, we were shown to a part of the library in the basement, where I have never been before. It was interesting to explain things (in French of course) to those students who had never been there before. Unfortunately, or fortunately, depending on viewpoint, I was separated from my regular class to keep the numbers in balance for the audio tours. Each group had a guide, and once we had figured out the operation of the headsets, it was slightly surreal hearing her speak in one’s ear but being unable to demand questions when she was a good fifty paces away! The Bibliotheque is indeed, Grande- by the time we had traversed all five floors and learned about many of the areas previously (to me anyway) unknown, we were all exhausted and ready for lunch.

We walked the short but complex path to the University of Québec (Montréal) cafeteria. The place was packed, but we managed to find sufficient seats outside for most students, and I enjoyed conversing (or attempting to converse with) the students in the higher group. Though they have a greater command of grammar, it was good to be able to hold my own and have an interesting conversation, and even more gratifying that the Québecois students were willing to speak to us as well.

After dining, I and some others walked to the Exhibition of work and apprenticeship, which was held in the Palais de Congres, not far from the University. The salon was in its second and final day, but most exhibitors were still there, and I discovered much useful information, as well as handing in my CV to many promising employers. It seems that a university diploma is de rigeur here, and tempted me to pursue other careers in my mind; there are other diplomas much easier to complete, for which I could qualify immediately, but which ultimately would not result in an especially exciting workplace. I don’t actually crave excitement at work, but would like the different clientele, and the huge variety one gets as part of the territory of healthcare work. It was rewarding being able to speak Entirely in French, especially confidence building to be told that my French was more than adequate for the workplace! I presume this is because many of the nuances of grammar are lost in spoken French, but show up in written form!

Since our class mingled for half an hour with a class of Québecois sales students, I have found the everyday life at school, taking the bus, etc far more agreeable. I think the exercise succeeded on many levels; it encouraged us to socialise with our fellow scholars, it provided practise for speaking and comprehension, and it also started genuine friendships which help with the native-immigrant relationship. I am half wondering about either a teaching career or getting more involved with education, as I love the ability to discuss, debate, and simply just socialise with others. Until going to the immersion classes, I still felt something of a fish out of water in this very Francophone quarter, but now I have little or no confidence problems, and understand almost all of the gossip on the bus! I’m reluctant to repeat the experience of working in a call centre because of the crazy hours, and because I tire easily when speaking a lot, but I should like to get some part time work soon involving the use of what skills I do have.

With that, I shall conclude this most unusual (picture bereft) article; I took no pictures while at the library, and was glad not to have the extra weight of the camera, but at the same time, many of the impressions I carried away were verbal rather than visual. It is as though every week in life at present opens some new and interesting chapter in the grand book of history and present.

Autumn approaches

And with it the signs of autumn become more pronounced! We do not have a car, or means of getting out into the Eastern Townships to view the more spectacular change of colour of the majority of the trees here, but even the view from our balcony (above) is greatly beautified by the gold, red and yellow leaves. Last year proved rainy, and consequently rather devoid of colour as the leaves fell in one night, without turning appreciable shades of colour. This year is not disappointing so far, and the more obvious signs of autumn emphasise, for me, one of the main reasons I love living here. 

Other signs, less manifest, but nonetheless unmistakeable, are appearing too. At various hours during the night, one can awaken and listen to the heartbreakingly wild sound of the geese skeining away overhead, heading for warmer climes. The smaller birds are notable by their absence. The mornings are fresh and crisp, making even normal respiration a joy! Summer here is great, but it is best experienced in small doses, especially when on has no air conditioning. Another sign of the approaching winter is in the activities of the humans we share our city with, and our own habits; today I emptied our storage cabin in the yard and stowed away our two air conditioners along with our summer camping gear and the boxes from all the kitchen and household products we have been purchasing recently. At the same time, I also brought indoors our Christmas tree and decorations; not for me to go and dig the cabin out of three feet of snow to retrieve said tree in a couple of months! Although I hate severe weather for the disruption it wreaks on the transport system,  I do enjoy a real fall of snow, something I could not truly have said to have experienced last winter here! Using public transit is not very agreeable. but at least it saves buying a set of winter tyres, or defrosting a car each morning- worse still, having to dig a car out of a mountain of snow or move it at an insane hour of the day so as to avoid blocking the deneigement process! I particularly miss the freedom a car brings, the freedom to take a quick trip to the mountains in the weekend, or a short hop to the store for goods otherwise too bulky or heavy to transport by bike. I also dislike the buses for the frequent exchange of germs, and the lack of courtesy by certain people, which often staggers me. It would have been wonderful this past weekend, to load the camera and painting things in the car and take a trip to the amazing St Bruno or St Hilaire region before the leaves fall and the parks take on their drab winter look.

As far as other hobbies go, I am now equipped for painting and even have my first commission, although a charitable one. I will aim to complete it by deadline, as even donated works bring about an oeuvre for artists. Lack of materials, or money for materials, is the biggest worry, but I should be abiding by one of my parents’ rules, and “Do the best you can with the best you have”.

That may also include spending less time online, so without more ado, good night all, I hope to have more to say another time!

Integration is the name of the game.

And if the pleasant experience which terminated in the scene above was anything to go by, the Québec government have made an inspired decision in providing Francisation classes which mix so many diverse nationalities! In the photo above, one can find people not long out of their native Chile, Colombia, England, Sudan, Morocco, Afghanistan, Mexico, Poland, Peru, Ukraine, Russia and Venezuela. Placing these people in a classroom environment in itself is a great idea, especially as the number of different nationalities ensures that the classes are conducted solely in French- no room for lazy students to simply talk in their native language! An even better idea was to take all of the students, along with their professors, for an archetypal visit to the countryside: picking  apples. Along with the Sugar Shack, the apple picking season is a familial and group cultural event.

It was most encouraging to see how the bonds in the group formed so strongly, the class could be regarded more as a community than merely an academic exercise. The interest of speaking to others from completely different societies, backgrounds, and cultural levels, is compounded by the common goal of everyone, to better their French language knowledge. I have to say, that of all the educational experiences I have received in my lifetime, the time with this class has been the most motivating, interesting and also challenging. One seeks to retain one’s own identity and culture, while exploring and discovering that of others, and that of the land in which we find ourselves.

The visit in question occurred a little later in September than ideal, when the apples were, in some cases, too long on the tree, but there still remained plenty of choices for the pickers. An idiosyncratic yellow school bus collected us from the Ecole Pierre Dupuy on a grey and rather threatening morning. I was pleased to note that the orchard was in the same township as the orchard which Sylvie and I visited two years ago, in sight of the lonely mountain of St Bruno. The bus ride in itself was fun, as the seats are designed for smaller than average people (i.e., children!) and we each had a sheet of typical French “school bus” songs. The driver put up extremely well with our efforts, and the journey passed quickly and relatively painlessly for those with average leg length!

Once arrived at the orchards, time was not lost in exploring the orchards, interpreting the colour coding of the trees by species, by means of coloured ribbons. For me, choice was relatively simple, as I love the slightly tart and firm McIntosh variety. Other students had no idea what type of apple they preferred, or were not accustomed to the varieties available. Of course, in an orchard, apples were plentiful, and sampling was the best way to test!

Manuel Wilson (above) was very brave throughout, overcoming not only a cultural barrier but also lacking a limb. He had problems with his prosthetic leg, and left it at home, still managing to gather a respectable sized bag full of apples. Although the exercise was serious enough in purpose, people had a lot of fun, despite the rain lashing down after most of the pickers had full bags.

The bus rescued the students from a heavy rain shower, and dropped us at the store, which sold a variety of gifts, souvenirs, and of course fresh produce. For the brave, a hot dog stall sold a hot lunch, others brought along their own packed lunch. I did not see anyone silly enough to bring along apples in their packed lunch…

Split into our two classes, we voyaged back to the halfway house by tractor and trailer ride.  The trailer ride was fun, although it brought back a great sense of déjà vu, seeing immigrants ride out to the picking in this manner! Strange to think that I too was now an “immigrant”, not in my own country, and integrating with the culture of my adopted land. A pleasant, but reflective feeling.

At the end of the day, all returned to the school a little damp, but mission accomplished- each bearing the fruit of the day, a sack of apples!

Diversity

Is a feature of life, and a basic essential to the survival of any nation. True, the line between extremism and “acceptable” diversity is blurred by old racist attitudes, by political movement, and by society itself evolving. We were glad to spend a few hours of a gloriously sunny afternoon in a hitherto unexplored quarter of Montréal, soaking up a very different culture.

The building  above is the Church of Sainte Sophie, behind which we discovered the Park Ukraine. The festival has been a yearly fixture for the past twelve years, and well worth attending each time, in my humble opinion. While there was not a great deal of space for the activities and for there to be many stalls (for example, in comparison with the Turkish and Mexican festivals we enjoyed at the Parc Jean Drapeau… but it was a pleasant and extremely multicultural event. The sun shone from a cloudless September sky, although with none of the fierceness we experienced during this past summer, thankfully!

We arrived by combination of bus and Metro, not a pleasant experience in itself, but nonetheless, entertaining for a people-watcher!  The scene was filled with colour, and the pleasant odour of cooking food permeated the atmosphere. As well as stalls with traditional crafts, souvenirs of Ukrainian origin and of course the inevitable stalls for the sponsors, we discovered some more in depth experiences, such as the stall devoted to informing about a great cause which neither of us had previously encountered:

http://www.bearersoflove.org/

A worthwhile cause we wish we had more money and time to support, devoted to helping the less fortunate by the most sensible means possible, for example, buying shoes and locally made products for the people in need, thereby also contributing to the local economy rather than that of the donating country.

We discovered the usual nick-nack stores, some of which were vending really finely crafted products, not merely tee shirts with the slogan “Ukrainian Inside” and a “made in China” tag within…

Things on sale included the fine mohair scarves (above), beautiful miniature paintings worked on shell and wood, and finely crafted jewellery. There were also the ubiquitous wooden dolls, and Sylvie bought two keychain dolls… although only one layer, it turned out, they made a nice souvenir with a practical side!

The violinist, Vasyl Popadiuk, entertained us well on the stage, though the music was rather louder than necessary, and his stage performance a little unrehearsed! I rued the fact that I had not brought along my video camera, and even more so when the traditional dancing began, adding still more colour to the spectacle!

 

A traditional dancing troupe livened things up somewhat. (above)

Extremely small, extremely brave, this little 7 year old girl had the crowd cooing with approval at her performance (above)

We would have appreciated the music of this choir significantly more if we had a) understood the words, or b) had subtitles in the programme… but it was all good!

While I won’t foreseeably become a fan of Iryna Zinkovska, she was quite a hit with the crowd, with a melange of French and Russian songs.

 

So, all in all we had an enjoyable experience, marred only by the poor sound volume regulation and the hideous road work problems with public transport that delayed our return home by about an hour. September is without a doubt my favourite month of the year in Canada, based on the two that I have experienced here. The crisp blue skies, pure sunshine, the glut of fresh local fruit and vegetables, the fond and not too distant memories of the summer still lingering, and the ease of sleeping at night when the temperatures permit the use of open windows rather than air conditioning!

Change

With the approaching end of summer now in sight, I eagerly await the onset of autumn. True, nowhere near my present geographic location will offer the gentle pastoral scene above, but even on a different continent, the cooler temperature, blue skies, and amazing landscapes combine to  make autumn in Canada one of my favourite seasons. September is perhaps the most beautiful months in the continent of North America; it is a positive pleasure to wake early and to take a short pause on the balcony before the day begins, watching the occasional cloud rolling across the deep blue, freshly washed sky. Inspiration comes in spade loads at this time of year, and this year is no exception.

Apart from having commenced school for Francisation recently, which is proving to be a huge confidence and ego builder, other things have developed which combine to give me a good feeling. My dear wife made room in our budget to buy me a sketch book, and with the pencils I brought over from the UK,  and two willing feline models, I am enjoying practising my drawing skills again. This time, leaving the results on Facebook has provided me with valued (and ego-boosting!) feedback about my “skill” level, and encouraged me to continue, taking the hobby more seriously. Going back through my old photographs, I believe painting scenes from my old life in the UK will prove cathartic for any remaining traces of homesickness- as well as challenging my perception skills: how well do I remember those old stone buildings in Stamford? How many statues are there on the amazing West Front of Peterborough cathedral? True, I shall have to refer back to pictures more, but it will also encourage me to take in far more with my eyes!

Of course, I shall be using the sketch book to hone my skills, but as the picture above indicates, sometimes a sketch can become something almost worth displaying!

As a sketch or painting proves to one the utility of taking note of the surroundings, so does my class for language integration help me to appreciate the different people around me. I am not generally considered intolerant, but having a class of people around me, all of whom have something cultural and positive to share, makes one appreciate humanity in general. I am getting to know the individuals very well, and also to discover on a  personal level, the interesting facts about Morocco, Syria, Afghanistan, Venezuela, Colombia and Peru!

Although not amazing in quality, the above picture does show the amazing diversity when one encounters immigrants thrown together with a common objective! We have a lot of fun in class, as it is not all about academic exercises; I am excited to be one of those headed to the apple picking, when the whole of the FFL department will be travelling to an orchard for a day trip. We also have a visit to the libraries here as part of the group, and though for me that is a case of déjà vu, I still eagerly anticipate it! The apple picking day will bring back memories of 2008, when I spent an amazing day with my wife, picking quantities of gorgeous apples, followed by a gratis hog roast and hot dinner, all under the beautiful blue skies of Monterégie.