1. le rouge-gorge robin
2. le pigeon pigeon
3. la mouette seagull
4. la chauve-souris bat
5. le hibou hawk owl
6. la chouette owl
7. le flamant rose pink flamingo
8. l'aigle eagle
9. la baleine whale
10. la pieuvre octopus
11. le phoque seal
12. le crabe crab
13. le dauphin dolphin
14. le requin shark
15. le manchot penguin
16. la chenille caterpillar
17. le ver de terre earthworm
18. la mouche fly
19. la fourmi ant
20. une tarentule tarantula
21. l'araignée spider
22. un cloporte roly-poly bug
23. un papillon de nuit moth
24. un acarien dust mite
25. un ciron cheese mite
August 10, 2012
FR311 Vocabulaire 9
Reading to kids.....Le gros livre des Animaux
1. le canari canary
2. la souris mouse
3. le perroquet parakeet
4. le poisson rouge goldfish
5. l'âne donkey
6. le paon peacock
7. la poule chicken
8. le clef deer
9. l'écureuil squirrel
10. le sanglier boar
11. le hérisson hedgehog
12. le lièvre hare
13. l'ours bear
14. le chaton kitten
15. le poussin chick
16. le veau calf
17. le poulain foal
18. le chiot puppy
19. le héron heron
20. la libellule dragonfly
21. la grenouille frog
22. la salamandre salamander
23. le cygne swan
24. le porcelet piglet
25. le loup wolf
1. le canari canary
2. la souris mouse
3. le perroquet parakeet
4. le poisson rouge goldfish
5. l'âne donkey
6. le paon peacock
7. la poule chicken
8. le clef deer
9. l'écureuil squirrel
10. le sanglier boar
11. le hérisson hedgehog
12. le lièvre hare
13. l'ours bear
14. le chaton kitten
15. le poussin chick
16. le veau calf
17. le poulain foal
18. le chiot puppy
19. le héron heron
20. la libellule dragonfly
21. la grenouille frog
22. la salamandre salamander
23. le cygne swan
24. le porcelet piglet
25. le loup wolf
August 09, 2012
FR 311 Vocabulaire 8
1. décoller to take off (air plane)/ to peel off/ to remove
2. s'envoler to take off (air plane) / to blow away /to fly/ to vanish
3. encombrer to clutter/ to block
4. gêner to bother/ to disturb/ to annoy
5. tripoter to fidget with
6. débarquer to land (unload)
7. accoster to land (come ashore)
8. atterrir to land (airplane)
Learning to drive a stick shift
9. le frein the brakes
10. le frein à main hand brake
11. un volant steering wheel
12. un engin engine
13. la vitesse speed
14. indicateur de vitesse speedometer
15. l'embrayage the clutch
16. débrayer to let in the clutch
17. embrayer to let out the clutch
18. une pédale d'accélérateur gas pedal
19. le gazole diesel
20. le gaz gasoline
21. une station-service gas station
22. le sac gonflable air bag
23. le coffre trunk
24. le capot hood
25. un clignotant turn signal/ blinker
2. s'envoler to take off (air plane) / to blow away /to fly/ to vanish
3. encombrer to clutter/ to block
4. gêner to bother/ to disturb/ to annoy
5. tripoter to fidget with
6. débarquer to land (unload)
7. accoster to land (come ashore)
8. atterrir to land (airplane)
Learning to drive a stick shift
9. le frein the brakes
10. le frein à main hand brake
11. un volant steering wheel
12. un engin engine
13. la vitesse speed
14. indicateur de vitesse speedometer
15. l'embrayage the clutch
16. débrayer to let in the clutch
17. embrayer to let out the clutch
18. une pédale d'accélérateur gas pedal
19. le gazole diesel
20. le gaz gasoline
21. une station-service gas station
22. le sac gonflable air bag
23. le coffre trunk
24. le capot hood
25. un clignotant turn signal/ blinker
August 06, 2012
IAS 380R Babysitting
Large Cultural Proof
Yesterday I spent the whole day babysitting for two little French children. Célia is three and a half and Lucas is 15 months old. The day had a rigid schedule which we were able to successfully stick to, for the most part. I noticed many little differences in how they’re treated and raised compared to American children.
We started the day with a breakfast of bread, butter, jam, or honey, organic fruit juice and rice cakes. Then at 10:00 we got out the stroller and went for a long walk to the harbor. Célia often has to go the the bathroom when we’re outside, and it’s customary for her to go in a bush, even if we’re near the house and there’s a bathroom just inside. After the walk Lucas had his bottle, which is prepared with breast milk, even thought he’s almost a year and a half old, he still nurses. He wasn’t at all interested in the bottle, and no matter how hard I tried to get him to take it, he cried for mommy and still wanted to nurse. Célia also takes bottles with organic cow’s milk. In those respects I thought it was interesting how much they’re treated like small babies; American babies would usually stop nursing at a much younger age than Lucas, and certainly most American three-year-olds wouldn’t be given a bottle. However, there are other aspects in which they are treated much more maturely than American children. For example, Célia is starting school this September. To me that seems much to early to start school, and I would think that would be an incredibly long and tiring day for a little girl. Her mom says she’ll start out just going in the morning and we’ll see how she does before sending her for a full day. It actually sounds more like a preschool, except that she’ll be in the same school with children much older than her.
Lunchtime was another event in which they are expected to act more mature. They are expected to eat everything they’re given (even thought Célia rarely eats everything, and wants to be spoon fed like her baby brother) which is normal, almost adult size portions of some mild food like soup or veggies. Everything is prepared without salt and nearly everything is organic. After the battle over anything green, they are both given a piece of fruit or a yogurt for desert, something an American child would probably protest. Then at 13:00 it’s time for everyone to take a nap. Célia takes her naps and sleeps at night with a diaper instead of the panties she normally wears during the day. I found their naps to be unusually long: they were expected to stay in their rooms and sleep from 13:00 to 15:00-17:00. They’re never woken up early, like many mothers would do in the US for fear that if they nap too long they won’t be able to sleep that night. Their mom says if they’ll sleep a long time, let them. But I find that it makes going to bed at night much more of an ordeal for them. For example, Célia napped yesterday from 13:20 until 17:30. That’s over 4 hours. Come bedtime she was merciless, and cried from her room for almost an hour, which is much longer than normal. However it’s true that little kids need lots of sleep, and it’s interesting to see the different cultural methods, tactics, or beliefs behind the “best” way of doing things.
After their naps it’s time for a big bottle for them both and then c'est l'heure de “goûter.” Goûter is a sweet snack eaten between the hours of 4 and 6pm. It is always something sweet, and for the kids it usually comprised of compote (like applesauce made with various kinds of fruit) and a cookie. After goûter we play for a couple of hours (playtime doesn’t differ much from typical American playtime) and then it to the table for dinner. Again, the kids are expected to eat well because if they don’t, there won’t another chance for the rest of the day. Eating is a ritual that is done only at the table and has a definite start and a definite finish, and everything in between is done in a certain order. So when they’re told they’ll go to bed hungry if they don’t eat at the table, they know that’s true. Dinner might be soup or vegetable or a little bit of meat, like lunch, but they get a piece of cheese if they eat well and also a little desert of compote or yogurt.
Yesterday I spent the whole day babysitting for two little French children. Célia is three and a half and Lucas is 15 months old. The day had a rigid schedule which we were able to successfully stick to, for the most part. I noticed many little differences in how they’re treated and raised compared to American children.
We started the day with a breakfast of bread, butter, jam, or honey, organic fruit juice and rice cakes. Then at 10:00 we got out the stroller and went for a long walk to the harbor. Célia often has to go the the bathroom when we’re outside, and it’s customary for her to go in a bush, even if we’re near the house and there’s a bathroom just inside. After the walk Lucas had his bottle, which is prepared with breast milk, even thought he’s almost a year and a half old, he still nurses. He wasn’t at all interested in the bottle, and no matter how hard I tried to get him to take it, he cried for mommy and still wanted to nurse. Célia also takes bottles with organic cow’s milk. In those respects I thought it was interesting how much they’re treated like small babies; American babies would usually stop nursing at a much younger age than Lucas, and certainly most American three-year-olds wouldn’t be given a bottle. However, there are other aspects in which they are treated much more maturely than American children. For example, Célia is starting school this September. To me that seems much to early to start school, and I would think that would be an incredibly long and tiring day for a little girl. Her mom says she’ll start out just going in the morning and we’ll see how she does before sending her for a full day. It actually sounds more like a preschool, except that she’ll be in the same school with children much older than her.
Lunchtime was another event in which they are expected to act more mature. They are expected to eat everything they’re given (even thought Célia rarely eats everything, and wants to be spoon fed like her baby brother) which is normal, almost adult size portions of some mild food like soup or veggies. Everything is prepared without salt and nearly everything is organic. After the battle over anything green, they are both given a piece of fruit or a yogurt for desert, something an American child would probably protest. Then at 13:00 it’s time for everyone to take a nap. Célia takes her naps and sleeps at night with a diaper instead of the panties she normally wears during the day. I found their naps to be unusually long: they were expected to stay in their rooms and sleep from 13:00 to 15:00-17:00. They’re never woken up early, like many mothers would do in the US for fear that if they nap too long they won’t be able to sleep that night. Their mom says if they’ll sleep a long time, let them. But I find that it makes going to bed at night much more of an ordeal for them. For example, Célia napped yesterday from 13:20 until 17:30. That’s over 4 hours. Come bedtime she was merciless, and cried from her room for almost an hour, which is much longer than normal. However it’s true that little kids need lots of sleep, and it’s interesting to see the different cultural methods, tactics, or beliefs behind the “best” way of doing things.
After their naps it’s time for a big bottle for them both and then c'est l'heure de “goûter.” Goûter is a sweet snack eaten between the hours of 4 and 6pm. It is always something sweet, and for the kids it usually comprised of compote (like applesauce made with various kinds of fruit) and a cookie. After goûter we play for a couple of hours (playtime doesn’t differ much from typical American playtime) and then it to the table for dinner. Again, the kids are expected to eat well because if they don’t, there won’t another chance for the rest of the day. Eating is a ritual that is done only at the table and has a definite start and a definite finish, and everything in between is done in a certain order. So when they’re told they’ll go to bed hungry if they don’t eat at the table, they know that’s true. Dinner might be soup or vegetable or a little bit of meat, like lunch, but they get a piece of cheese if they eat well and also a little desert of compote or yogurt.
August 01, 2012
FR 311R Conversation
I had a long talk the other day with my host family mother about breast feeding, the cultural aspects, and the health benefits for the child and the mother. She has a 15 month old baby who she still regularly nurses. She nursed her 3 year old until the baby was 19 months old. I assumed this was typical of most French mothers, but she told me that when she was at a wedding a few weeks ago, she nursed her baby and everyone stared at her like it was inappropriate. As she was recounting the story, her rebuttal was to me was, "Well haven't they ever been to the beach? If they've ever been to the beach then they've seen breasts and if my baby wants "tétée," I'm not going to tell him no.
It surprised me that people stared. I always assumed that the French were way open about their bodies in this way, just like they are at the beach, at their medical exams, in their children's books, etc. However apparently I was mistaken. She said nursing comes in and out of fashion, and now it's becoming more "à la mode" than it was with the generation before hers. Her mother nursed her and her siblings, but that was rare for the time period; her husband's mother is disgusted by the idea. Many of her friends have "tried" nursing their babies, but gave up after a couple of weeks. She, however, continues to diligently pump milk every night and freezes it in little jars. Then when I'm babysitting and expected to give him a bottle, he couldn't be less interested.
It surprised me that people stared. I always assumed that the French were way open about their bodies in this way, just like they are at the beach, at their medical exams, in their children's books, etc. However apparently I was mistaken. She said nursing comes in and out of fashion, and now it's becoming more "à la mode" than it was with the generation before hers. Her mother nursed her and her siblings, but that was rare for the time period; her husband's mother is disgusted by the idea. Many of her friends have "tried" nursing their babies, but gave up after a couple of weeks. She, however, continues to diligently pump milk every night and freezes it in little jars. Then when I'm babysitting and expected to give him a bottle, he couldn't be less interested.
July 30, 2012
IAS 380R Une Grande Specatcle: Cendrillon à Valençay
I went on a little trip to Valençay to visit the château, and stumbled upon a grand local performance of Cinderella! As my mom and I were leaving the chateau, I noticed a poster advertising a dinner/ show even and was informed that it was going to be an incredible performance around the chateau grounds and tickets were on sale just around the corner. Dinner started at 8, complete with an “animation,” and the show would commence at 10 until the final strike at midnight! My mom and I had no idea what we were getting into, but I was absolutely certain we would be the only non-locals there and it seemed a shame to miss the all the hand-made costumes and little local children parading around as fairies after we had already made a two hour drive to the chateau. We were given a ticket for our dinner and another ticket for entry to the spectacle.
Dinner was set up cafeteria style in an outdoor area that was probably once the barn for the chateau. There were two lines and you gave your meal ticket to the woman at the first line who then gave you a tray with carrots or lentils, a bit of cheese and bread, and a berry crumble cake. You then took your tray to the second line and waited for a man with a giant pot of pork and mushrooms to dish up a few slices. Finally we looked around for a place at the picnic tables under a huge tent where we ate, squished together with French families with their million children and a group of a few dozen people from the old folks’ home. Although everyone was polite, we noticed that people only seemed to mingle within their own various groups. Two men in costumes walked among the tables with medieval instruments, singing love songs to young girls to make them blush and keep everyone else roaring with laughter.
After the meal, which was of course very good, we filed into rows of chairs in the same barn area and were entertained some more by the same two silly singing men. About 30 minutes later, after the crew had had time to change from their serving food clothes to their performing clothes, the show began. Honestly I wasn’t expecting it to be anything impressive, but when the music started and the actors came out with cheese trays and chickens and brightly colored costumes, I was pleasantly surprised. The costumes and set were mostly medieval, but included a few modern elements that made it a bit quirky and cute. For example, the evil step sisters wore bright pink and neon green, and the step mother wore an illustrious fur coat with ridiculous shoes. After the scene where they all get invited to the ball, the crowd was invited to follow Cinderella and her sisters/mother to another part of the chateau grounds where a little stadium and set were waiting. This was supposed to be the castle. A grand meeting was held here, as well as the ball. Then, after Cinderella and the Prince danced and proclaimed their undying love for each other, the crowd was again invited to move to the lawn in front of the chateau for the wedding and an impressive grand finale.
Analysis:
Besides the fact that this was an extremely local production, not at all intended for tourists, this turned out to be a very interesting cultural experience. There were two main changes to the plot that I’ve never seen in any other production of Cinderella: 1) her father is still living, and 2) there was an extra scene where all of the ambassadors met with the King and Prince to discuss the plans for the throne and the ball.
In all the versions of Cinderella I’ve ever known, Cinderella’s father marries the wicked step-mother and soon after dies, leaving Cinderella orphaned and the step-mother free to terrorize Cinderella as she will. In this version, however, Cinderella’s dad doesn’t die. He’s still there, living in the same house with Cinderella, the step-sisters and step-mother, and is very well aware of all the wicked things the step-mother does to Cinderella. However he does absolutely nothing to try and stop her. Cinderella and her father appear to have a close relationship, as in several scenes they share heartfelt conversations. But the mourning Cinderella feels is not for the loss of her father, as in other renditions, but for her mother. She imagines what her life would’ve been like had her mother not passed away when she was young. It was her mother who would’ve kept terrible things from happening to her, not her father.
I spent the first 30 minutes or so of the story trying to figure out when the father was going to die. But he never did! He simply allowed the step mother to make Cinderella a servant and let himself be bossed around by her plenty as well! I wondered how any father would allow that, and why the people who put on this play and those watching it apparently had no problems with a father letting his daughter be turned into a servant by his new wife. Is there no respect for fathers among this crowd? Are fathers not expected to protect and defend their children? As my mother and I sat throughout the evening, we noticed in at least four instances, a young woman, alone with a child and a cell phone which she would constantly pull out of her purse to look at. None of them wore wedding rings. Were they checking their phones to see why the father hadn’t shown up? Or had he been gone so long that they were anxious to know what was going on with their friends that night, what they were missing because they had taken their child to see a show? No matter what the story was, it’s clear an epidemic is going on; children born to unwed parents, and a few years later, the father is nowhere to be found. Maybe this is why no one batted an eye at the father who let his step-wife make his daughter sleep in the fireplace; nothing more is expected of him.
The second interesting change in the story was the meeting with the ambassadors. Everyone was there; the ambassador of patisseries, the ambassador of snails, the ambassador of cycling, etc. Every group was represented, and everyone had their say! It was all about the people. At first they discussed very animatedly what would happen to the thrown, since the prince was unmarried. Then they decided they would wait until the ball to make a decision, to give him a chance to find a bride. With a ball to plan, they all gave their two cents as a reporter went around and asked them what contribution they were going to make to the ball!
What a wonderfully enlightening, spur of the moment night it turned out to be. A château, delicious food, beautiful costumes, and fireworks to top it off!
Dinner was set up cafeteria style in an outdoor area that was probably once the barn for the chateau. There were two lines and you gave your meal ticket to the woman at the first line who then gave you a tray with carrots or lentils, a bit of cheese and bread, and a berry crumble cake. You then took your tray to the second line and waited for a man with a giant pot of pork and mushrooms to dish up a few slices. Finally we looked around for a place at the picnic tables under a huge tent where we ate, squished together with French families with their million children and a group of a few dozen people from the old folks’ home. Although everyone was polite, we noticed that people only seemed to mingle within their own various groups. Two men in costumes walked among the tables with medieval instruments, singing love songs to young girls to make them blush and keep everyone else roaring with laughter.
After the meal, which was of course very good, we filed into rows of chairs in the same barn area and were entertained some more by the same two silly singing men. About 30 minutes later, after the crew had had time to change from their serving food clothes to their performing clothes, the show began. Honestly I wasn’t expecting it to be anything impressive, but when the music started and the actors came out with cheese trays and chickens and brightly colored costumes, I was pleasantly surprised. The costumes and set were mostly medieval, but included a few modern elements that made it a bit quirky and cute. For example, the evil step sisters wore bright pink and neon green, and the step mother wore an illustrious fur coat with ridiculous shoes. After the scene where they all get invited to the ball, the crowd was invited to follow Cinderella and her sisters/mother to another part of the chateau grounds where a little stadium and set were waiting. This was supposed to be the castle. A grand meeting was held here, as well as the ball. Then, after Cinderella and the Prince danced and proclaimed their undying love for each other, the crowd was again invited to move to the lawn in front of the chateau for the wedding and an impressive grand finale.
Analysis:
Besides the fact that this was an extremely local production, not at all intended for tourists, this turned out to be a very interesting cultural experience. There were two main changes to the plot that I’ve never seen in any other production of Cinderella: 1) her father is still living, and 2) there was an extra scene where all of the ambassadors met with the King and Prince to discuss the plans for the throne and the ball.
In all the versions of Cinderella I’ve ever known, Cinderella’s father marries the wicked step-mother and soon after dies, leaving Cinderella orphaned and the step-mother free to terrorize Cinderella as she will. In this version, however, Cinderella’s dad doesn’t die. He’s still there, living in the same house with Cinderella, the step-sisters and step-mother, and is very well aware of all the wicked things the step-mother does to Cinderella. However he does absolutely nothing to try and stop her. Cinderella and her father appear to have a close relationship, as in several scenes they share heartfelt conversations. But the mourning Cinderella feels is not for the loss of her father, as in other renditions, but for her mother. She imagines what her life would’ve been like had her mother not passed away when she was young. It was her mother who would’ve kept terrible things from happening to her, not her father.
I spent the first 30 minutes or so of the story trying to figure out when the father was going to die. But he never did! He simply allowed the step mother to make Cinderella a servant and let himself be bossed around by her plenty as well! I wondered how any father would allow that, and why the people who put on this play and those watching it apparently had no problems with a father letting his daughter be turned into a servant by his new wife. Is there no respect for fathers among this crowd? Are fathers not expected to protect and defend their children? As my mother and I sat throughout the evening, we noticed in at least four instances, a young woman, alone with a child and a cell phone which she would constantly pull out of her purse to look at. None of them wore wedding rings. Were they checking their phones to see why the father hadn’t shown up? Or had he been gone so long that they were anxious to know what was going on with their friends that night, what they were missing because they had taken their child to see a show? No matter what the story was, it’s clear an epidemic is going on; children born to unwed parents, and a few years later, the father is nowhere to be found. Maybe this is why no one batted an eye at the father who let his step-wife make his daughter sleep in the fireplace; nothing more is expected of him.
The second interesting change in the story was the meeting with the ambassadors. Everyone was there; the ambassador of patisseries, the ambassador of snails, the ambassador of cycling, etc. Every group was represented, and everyone had their say! It was all about the people. At first they discussed very animatedly what would happen to the thrown, since the prince was unmarried. Then they decided they would wait until the ball to make a decision, to give him a chance to find a bride. With a ball to plan, they all gave their two cents as a reporter went around and asked them what contribution they were going to make to the ball!
What a wonderfully enlightening, spur of the moment night it turned out to be. A château, delicious food, beautiful costumes, and fireworks to top it off!
July 19, 2012
IAS 380R Orchestra
Large Cultural Proof
Orchestre de l'Université de Poitiers
The day that I rented my apartment there was a huge event going on at the quare in front of Hôtel de Ville. Several events, actually, one of which involved the big white doors of Hôtel de Ville being wide open. I wandered in to see what was going on, and to my utter delight, I found a small orchestra playing at the base of a huge staircase, the staircase filled from top to bottom with a choir. The performance was mediocre, which also made me happy, because I knew the chances of me being able to join were slimmer if it was really a prestigious group. At the end of the performance, I asked around and was led to a man who enthusiastically told me they were they Orchestre de l’Université de Poitiers and they would love another violinist! I told him I hadn’t brought my violin with me because I didn’t think it would get much use, but I could have my parents bring it when they came for Christmas. He said they had one on hand I could borrow until I had my own. I filled out some papers and anxiously anticipated our rehearsals every Tuesday night from 20:30 to 22:00.
Orchestra turned out to be one of the most fulfilling adventures during my time here in Poitiers. I was instantly impressed by how warm and friendly everyone was. My brother, Kyle, ended up joining too, which was I think even better for him than it was for me, as he wasn’t working like I was and didn’t have many structured social activities. Of course it was a challenge for him to be social without speaking French, but everyone was so nice and there was usually someone in the cello section who spoke English.
The director, Augustin, was an older, jolly man with sheet white hair and a large belly. He was always smiling and when he asked someone to play a specific section of music, he always told them it was great, before making suggestions. Definitely a very different atmosphere from the ultra competitive orchestras I’ve always been a part of. Of course the result of this laid back feeling was that people didn’t practice, including myself, and thus we never sounded very wonderful. I did miss that about my old orchestras; that chill that runs up and down your spine when you can feel the vibrations among all the string sections and you suddenly realize, “Dang. We sound good.” But I was there more for the cultural aspect.
My stand partner, Dominique, was an older woman, maybe in her mid sixties. She was very very sweet, and also a little bossy at times, which I found a bit endearing. She would often tap our German concertmaster, Philip, on the shoulder and ask him about changing the bowings because she’d found a better way to do it. Philip was our concertmaster, and he was studying premed at the university and working on improving his French. His English turned out to be even better than his French. Cédric was assigned to drive my brother and I home to centre ville after rehearsals because the buses stopped running that late. Cédric immediately took the task to heart and offered to pick us up and take us to orchestra as well. He turned out to be one of our best friends in Poitiers, and I always looked forward to our talks with him to and from rehearsal. Cédric is 30 years old, born and raised in Poitiers. So were his parents. And their parents. And their parents..... He knows everything about Poitiers, and in the car he would often point out, “That tower there on the round about is Roman,” or this wall here was built by the Gauls.” He was always a wealth of knowledge, and I often asked him questions about grammar or conversation.
The orchestra was comprised of about half student aged people, the other half older people from the community. It was a nice mix and everyone brought a little something extra to the group. No other activity besides church had I felt so included and welcome so quickly. Maybe that’s because those are the only two places where I’ve noticed people “tutoyer” everyone else right away. I think it promotes a sort of unity and fellowship that can’t exist as quickly while “vousvoyer”-ing.
Orchestre de l'Université de Poitiers
The day that I rented my apartment there was a huge event going on at the quare in front of Hôtel de Ville. Several events, actually, one of which involved the big white doors of Hôtel de Ville being wide open. I wandered in to see what was going on, and to my utter delight, I found a small orchestra playing at the base of a huge staircase, the staircase filled from top to bottom with a choir. The performance was mediocre, which also made me happy, because I knew the chances of me being able to join were slimmer if it was really a prestigious group. At the end of the performance, I asked around and was led to a man who enthusiastically told me they were they Orchestre de l’Université de Poitiers and they would love another violinist! I told him I hadn’t brought my violin with me because I didn’t think it would get much use, but I could have my parents bring it when they came for Christmas. He said they had one on hand I could borrow until I had my own. I filled out some papers and anxiously anticipated our rehearsals every Tuesday night from 20:30 to 22:00.
Orchestra turned out to be one of the most fulfilling adventures during my time here in Poitiers. I was instantly impressed by how warm and friendly everyone was. My brother, Kyle, ended up joining too, which was I think even better for him than it was for me, as he wasn’t working like I was and didn’t have many structured social activities. Of course it was a challenge for him to be social without speaking French, but everyone was so nice and there was usually someone in the cello section who spoke English.
The director, Augustin, was an older, jolly man with sheet white hair and a large belly. He was always smiling and when he asked someone to play a specific section of music, he always told them it was great, before making suggestions. Definitely a very different atmosphere from the ultra competitive orchestras I’ve always been a part of. Of course the result of this laid back feeling was that people didn’t practice, including myself, and thus we never sounded very wonderful. I did miss that about my old orchestras; that chill that runs up and down your spine when you can feel the vibrations among all the string sections and you suddenly realize, “Dang. We sound good.” But I was there more for the cultural aspect.
My stand partner, Dominique, was an older woman, maybe in her mid sixties. She was very very sweet, and also a little bossy at times, which I found a bit endearing. She would often tap our German concertmaster, Philip, on the shoulder and ask him about changing the bowings because she’d found a better way to do it. Philip was our concertmaster, and he was studying premed at the university and working on improving his French. His English turned out to be even better than his French. Cédric was assigned to drive my brother and I home to centre ville after rehearsals because the buses stopped running that late. Cédric immediately took the task to heart and offered to pick us up and take us to orchestra as well. He turned out to be one of our best friends in Poitiers, and I always looked forward to our talks with him to and from rehearsal. Cédric is 30 years old, born and raised in Poitiers. So were his parents. And their parents. And their parents..... He knows everything about Poitiers, and in the car he would often point out, “That tower there on the round about is Roman,” or this wall here was built by the Gauls.” He was always a wealth of knowledge, and I often asked him questions about grammar or conversation.
The orchestra was comprised of about half student aged people, the other half older people from the community. It was a nice mix and everyone brought a little something extra to the group. No other activity besides church had I felt so included and welcome so quickly. Maybe that’s because those are the only two places where I’ve noticed people “tutoyer” everyone else right away. I think it promotes a sort of unity and fellowship that can’t exist as quickly while “vousvoyer”-ing.
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