Tis the season to be active!

The above group of happy people was taken on Friday at the St Joseph’s Oratory, Montréal. All three levels of French classes, together with our teachers and monitors, took the trip to this famous and extremely frequently visited landmark, to better understand the place the church and religion in general have shaped the society we are slowly integrating with.

Although the week had boded ill, with rain instead of snow, and a cloudy start, the sun came out for our entire voyage and we were able to enjoy the bracing air high above the West of Montréal. To see the church and basilica, and to explore thoroughly, requires a lot of standing and walking, and the huge variations in temperature (for example in the chamber of candles, the heat was suffocating, but in other parts the cold of the mountain penetrated to our very bones!). We learned much more about the history of Saint Frère André, and the importance in the local culture of this representative of humility. I didn’t know what to say about the miracles attributed to this undoubtedly influential man, but if the numerous crutches discarded by those who had been healed were anything to go by, he certainly had many successes to his credit.  It reminded me somewhat of Notre Dame de Paris, with all the amazingly well worked pieces of architecture, paintings, windows, and fittings; even though this church is quasi modern, I didn’t find the decor to be extravagant ad nauseum. It did illustrate again for me (as if there was a need!) the power and influence that religion has over people, and how this power does not disappear overnight, even with a tranquil revolution.

The fondness of the Catholics for their relics always amused me, though of course I respect that they have a right to attach a belief to an inanimate object; the relic comprised of the heart of Brother André was slightly bizarre, especially the history of its loss and later discovery in a basement just a few miles away. Always fascinated by the history of people and their effect on society, it was a great experience also to walk around the Crèches (nativity scenes) which were donated by countries around the world. It was especially interesting to note that both Palestine and Israel had contributed relatively conventional figurines, and that these were in fairly close proximity. I was interested to note that the United Kingdom had contributed a nice painting, and close inspection of the detail gave me fresh confidence in my own painting ability and the motivation to continue.

After the tour of the Oratory, I parted company from the rest of the school apart from one classmate, who took the Metro back into Montréal with me. I applied for my Chemistry courses for the January semester and was relieved to note that I had plenty of time to sort these out, though I will face a difficult period when I have to rush from French classes to get to my night classes in Montréal. At least I will be significantly headed towards my goal of eventually taking the nursing course, as long as I can successfully make it through into the programme before my equivalence arrives. Later in the evening,  I met with Sylvie and we treated ourselves to the IMAX experience, to watch Harry Potter. We were most impressed, and now obviously eagerly awaiting the last part of the film!

Today has seen a lot more rushing around, buying decorations and putting them up. We have not swamped the apartment with decorations, and kept the tree pretty much the same as last year, with the important addition of real candy canes to be true to tradition. This Christmas, I hope I will be able to do more than just talk about the traditional things we planned to do last time; visit the midnight mass, hear a choir, etc. I love the ambience of Christmas, though like most, I hate the commercialism and also the hypocrisy of people who don’t normally behave generously, clamouring for recognition for making one paltry donation to charity or being sociable for one day.

I doubt we will be disappointed in a white Christmas, but it may not turn out to be very white; today we had a whole centimetre of snow, which partly melted; this evening, the melted crust has frozen into a sheet of ice, and as I type this I can hear the sliding of cars whose drivers have not yet bought winter tyres. The purchase of crampons to put on my boots will prove to be a necessary evil, I believe. Tomorrow we are to make our way to Montréal for brunch, but I can’t see a few millimetres of snow stopping the buses and Metro.

Winter approaches, but not here!

(and I make no pretences, the photograph of our apartment block above was taken last year after the heaviest fall of snow during that winter!)

I am not  sure whether to be amused, pitying, or even alarmed, on regarding the news and learning that Europe has received a lot more snow that we have so far, and promises more to come! Here, we are experiencing many rain showers, but so far the sum total of our snow barely made it to 3 cm in the drifts. That said, I finally had the chance last week, to experience something which I had frankly been dreading throughout the previous winter: freezing rain. This appellation is not very scary to those  who have never experienced the phenomenon, but to those who experienced it last week, it was far from being a joke. For those not versed in the weather or the climate here, freezing rain is not the same as hail; when the weather conditions are just right, hovering just below zero, the rain freezes immediately as it falls, making a veritable ice rink of the sidewalks and roads. Last Friday, I duly observed the signs and warnings on the TV, and wrapped up warm, also wearing my intermediate boots; this was not enough to stop me from slipping on the top step and bouncing down the whole flight,backpack and coffee flask flying. Maybe my open umbrella helped to absorb some of the speed of my flight, but I was still quite shaken and bruised by the speed and violence of the tumble. The sidewalks were practically impassable, even the seasoned Québecois were tumbling into the road, into the path of traffic which could not always take evasive action. I finally made it to the bus stop by hanging onto the lamp posts and walking on the grass where possible. On finding about thirty people waiting at the stop which I normally share with two people, I suspected there might have been a problem with the transport, and sure enough, the driver of a snow tractor stopped to tell us that there were no buses.

I spent a while trying to contact the school, only to discover that it was closed as a consequence of the ice; I was very surprised, but seeing that the majority of students go to that school by public transit, it figured that school couldn’t function if the pupils couldn’t get there. Bus services and some semblance of normalcy returned by 10 am, but the school was closed for the day, so I enjoyed the chance to relax at home with the wife and family, and to take stock of our preparations for Christmas. I was recently very disappointed to be turned down for the job at Costco, because according to those who conducted my interview, and other staff within the store with whom we spoke, my candidature was fine for the job, and they needed a lot of people. The rejection letter and inadequate explanation was not much of a consolation, and though everyone has to deal with some degree of rejection in their life, I am not sure that this was expected. I still hope to get some form of work for the winter, as life will be very tough if we have only the one income to live on. Thankfully it won’t spoil Christmas too much, as we can afford a few small gifts and cards, plus we already have the tree and some decorations.

Life at school goes on apace, with a couple of birthdays, and the unexpected holiday, taking their toll on the curriculum. I don’t mind going along with the more cultural, less academic exercises the school offers along with the francisation programme, but I do find that sometimes a lot of time is lost sharing things which are best reserved for out of school social times. I have made some good friends at the school, both among teachers and students, and it is a lot less formal than a regular classroom. We have a much easier curriculum lined up for this season, as there are many field trips and other functions in December, the last day of school basically being a party, before we leave on a  comparatively long holiday.

On Friday, we will be visiting the St Joseph’s Oratory http://www.saint-joseph.org/ in Montréal, which promises to be interesting, especially as the different students have little experience of nativity scenes. I am not sure how those with other than Christian beliefs will fare on this trip, and in a sense, their reactions bring about a sense of déjà vu, especially those who have to opt out of birthday and Christmas celebrations. It serves to highlight just how unpleasantly narrow and unrealistically restrictive was the sect which I left; by the same token, though I am not that fond of Christmas and its associated commercialism, the hypocrisy of those who donate money that is not theirs in the first place, or who put on a  nice face for only a few days per year. Not to be too cynical, I love the excitement of unwrapping presents, the beauty of a tastefully decorated Christmas tree, the fun of giving and receiving cards, and the general feeling of bonhomie that exists during that season.

We have another visit lined up, to the Electrium, an exhibition by the company HydroQuebec

http://www.hydroquebec.com/visit/monteregie/electrium.html

, the company everyone here loves to hate. This province is dependant on hydroelectricity to a frightening degree, and of course with such a huge company holding a monopoly, they can do pretty much as they wish with consumer bills. All the same, electricity here costs about one 5th of the price of that in the UK, so it is not without its upside. The visit to the Longueuil Palais de justice was a flop, as the lady who did the talking talked much to fast, and we basically spent one hour listening to a stream of explanations in a stuffy court room. On the plus side, it was only five minutes walk from our school, so we lost no time in returning for lunch! I found it an interesting insight into the criminal justice system here, which is thankfully not overloaded in our region. It was also encouraging to see that I could follow a presentation in French, and came away having understood 95% of what was said, as opposed to 30% when I began the course. The interview with Costco, although having a negative outcome, did at least demonstrate to myself that I can hold my own in this kind of situation. I can’t hold a lively discussion in a group of French speakers, but am always encouraged by the response of those around me in the school. I think that when my course is over and I am plunged once again into the Anglophone world, I will miss these great experiences, these chances to literally immerse myself in the culture not only of my own adoptive country, but that of the other countries who have contributed people to the circle of my friends and colleagues!

This is a relatively picture-free episode, but I hope to rectify that with the developments of Friday and next week, although my free time at the computer is absolutely certain not to grow in the next few weeks.

Hopefully this video of Bibitte, who finally discovered that she is interested in television, will help to offset the lack of photographs!

Bibitte discovers the television!

Rappelez-vous, rappelez-vous, le 5 Novembre!

Jusqu’à aujourd’hui, mon blog a été ecrit seulement en Anglais; bien sûr; pour la majorité de mes lecteurs, l’anglais est la langue plus facile à comprendre. Mais, j’ai besoin de pratiquer mes compétences en rédaction française aussi. Aujourd’hui, je pense, serait un bon moment pour commencer à écrire mon blog en anglais et en français, pas une traduction mot pour mot, ce qui n’est pas possible, mais je vais essayer d’écrire la même information dans les deux langues.

Aujourd’hui, le 5 Novembre, est un jour spécial dans le Royaume-Uni, pour des raisons historiques et traditionnelles.  En 1605, il vivait un homme qui est devenue célèbre dans l’histoire pour son échec. Parti d’un group d’hommes, qui étaient considérés comme terroristes, Guy (Guido) Fawkes  a été pris avec la main dans le sac, (en particulier, dans la cave sous The House of Lords, parlement britannique)  avec lui plus de 30 barils de poudre à canon). Il a été torturé, puis éxecuté. Le complot pour détuire Jacques 1ere avait échoué.

Ajourd’hui, nous célébrons l’échec (ou,  certains disent, de célébrer la tentative de faire tomber la gouvernement!) de M Fawkes avec feux d’artifice, et feux de joie, dans les endroits publiques ou les jardins privées.  Par tradition, pendant la journée, les enfants sortents dans  les rues avec des effigies de Guy Fawkes. Ils exigent d’argent de leurs voisins et autres piétons avec la phrase ‘Penny for the guy’ (Penny pour le Guy). Plus tard, dans la soirée, les familles et  amis se sont rassemblent dans les jardins ou espaces publiques, souvent accompagné de pluie ou de brouillard (le temps ne respecte pas  les évenements publiques!). Les effigies de Guy sont brûlés sur les feux des joies, et les feux d’artifice sont allumées.

Les feux d’artifice sont disponibles toute l’année dans certains points de vente en Angleterre, mais le 5 Novembre est toujours le temps traditionel d’acheter et d’utiliser des feux d’artifice, et le plupart des magasins commençent de les vendre à la fin d’Octobre. Le 5 Novembre, les pompiers et les urgences sont souvent occupés a cause des blessures nombreuses, des brûlées et la circulation dans les rues pendant la soirée. Si les minicipalités ne le defendent  pas.  Il est généralement acceptable d’utiliser le feu d’artifice  entre le coucher du soleil et 21 heures. Les propriétaires d’animaux domestiques sont conséillées de les sécurisers afin de prévenir des inquiétitudes inutiles.

J’aime me souvenir du suspens en attendant le premier feu d’artifice qui annoncait une spectacle, la lueur des feux de joie qui illuminaient le ciel, l’odeurs de cordite, les pommes caramélisées, le pain au gingembre, et la goût de chocolate chaud et pommes de terre cuites au feu! Pour moi, ces sont des souvenirs très  precieux de notre fête unique: Bonfire night!

And now in English!

Not of course exactly the same information, as most of those who can read this blog in English will already know the history of the Gunpowder Plot, when a Catholic cult was formed in secret in an attempt to overthrow the King by violent means and overturn the political system in England. I am surprised how few people know that a festival or event even occurs in Britain, or that thousands of rain-sodden Brits wait in the cold November fog for a brief spectacle of light and sound, returning afterwards to the comfort of their homes, hot gingerbread, hot chocolate, roast chestnuts, fire baked potatoes,  mulled wine and toffee apples! The tradition of the Guy had almost died out in my teenage years, though the stores (as always) sold plenty of plastic, combustible masks (see V for Vendetta for an example!). In my time I can only recall seeing one Guy being pushed down our street in a wheelbarrow, and afterwards seeing the effigy burned with much ceremony in a nearby park. The children in our street preferred the extortion practised at hallow’een as introduced by the Americans, to the limited funds which they could collect by pushing a straw doll around the cold November streets!

I loved the exciting packaging of the fireworks when I was younger, and even spent inordinate amounts on fireworks for ‘bring your own’ parties. These parties often had to be carried on over several evenings (terrible for pet owners) as we amassed far too many fireworks to be lit safely in one evening. I also recall the horrible deflated feeling, almost like a champagne hangover, when one walked in the garden ‘the morning after’ and kicked over the rain-sodden empty firework shells. Budding chemist that I was, I would often construct more interesting and spectacular displays from randomly selected fireworks. Distinct memories of a huge rocket, which stated it was for ‘large scale displays only’, being fired off underground, with a satisfyingly industrial size booom!

Of course, I could not have come to a better place than Montréal, to continue to experience the ‘joys’ of fireworks, with the huge displays each summer! I don’t miss the holes in my pockets and clothing which the fireworks left, nor the inevitable consequences of misfired projectiles which had to be duly noted!

The reason for my first essay into French on my blog was twofold; firstly, my blog is a statement of how I feel, I think, and also a kind of springboard for my work, secondly, in my current level we are expected to express ourselves far more with the use of French in everyday life, and what better way than to share some of my blog with those of my friends who only speak French, or don’t know how to use a tranlator!

I hope to make a more extensive post at the weekend, just one of many projects I have on hand for weather just like this- cold, rainy and dull!

Le succès!

This marks a proud moment for me, although I did not manage to capture a perfect photo of the moment! Having spent some time and a lot of effort in making the painting for a retiring professor at the CFP Pierre Dupuy, it was both a relief and a confirmation to have it finally presented to the man himself, in front of his grateful class! This was halfway through an eventful, emotional and interesting day!

Primarily, Tuesday the 27th was the day of the “finnisants” those fortunate students who had proceeded through all three tiers of the language and culture programme, and successfully achieved attestation. The day commenced with our own intermediate class checking the correction of our papers, which was a pleasant relief to myself and most of the classmates; we then proceeded to another class for the presentation of the certificates by the directors of the institute, the professors and the monitorati. We only knew most of the students from brief conversations in the cafeteria, which was a shame as the higher levels gain by aiding those in lower tiers; anyhow, it was an interesting experience and had me thinking of potential gift ideas for our own finishing ceremony in January!

After the ceremony of presenting the certificates, and many gifts from the pupils to their professors, we all adjourned to a buffet restaurant in Boucherville, La Maison de Jade, basically a rather commercial operation, but a good chance to eat a great deal for very little outlay! After the meal at the restaurant, a few friends from my class came back for a brief visit, during which they were introduced to two Québecoise (Doudonne and Bibittte!) and sampled our molasses cookies! It brought back mixed memories, entertaining people in our home, but it was an experience I would love to repeat some time. The most important rule would be to include some non-Spanish speakers among the invitees…

Life in the two days of holiday before I return to school is made up of searching for part time work; kind and helpful as were the comments about my painting, and the suggestions that I turn it into a living, it is just too transient for a reliable income- and I am not yet ready to take on board managing my own taxes let alone managing a business that depends on me. I also don’t have sufficient confidence in my ability as a painter to be able to take such a leap. At present, I am concentrating on progressing with my potential career in nursing, and all the subjects which are necessary ancillaries to that.

Now I should leave the computer and get on with work in the real world; I hope my readers will excuse me sharing the bare minimum in this instance- and for my not attempting to translate the blog this time! I really need a parallel blog to be able to post in two languages, but perhaps during the next few weeks, I shall get the chance to practise my blog posts, as the level three classes are much more about written activities.

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.