Straight Trippin'

En resumen

2008-08-06T15:06:00.001-07:00

The last few days have been nice – but hot hot hot. Montréal is a great summer city, but the dorm has very poor ventilation so I’ve been in a lethargic haze when I’m at home. Let’s see, on Friday everyone in class shared the recipes we had brought. Let me contextualize a bit: it was day five of French 1, and we were using very foreign vocabulary because it was about not just food but food preparation. The entire activity, in my Spanish classroom, takes one to one-and-a-half 50-minute class sessions – and it’s a group activity. This one took the entire three hours of the morning class, with each person performing individually and responding to the teacher’s questions about our recipes. While each one of us did his or her recipe, we were very much engaged. While other people were presenting, we kind of just sat there. It was kind of…soul killing. Unfortunately, the individual attention we get in the classroom comes at the price that each one of us has to patiently wait while it’s her or his turn again. After that slow morning, I took off to Old Montréal and the Old Port, which I just loved. I sure am a sucker for historical things – and the Old Port has a little park in the middle of it, so I got to sit there in the shade, hang out and cool off. It was great.

Later that night, I went to the Village, which is like…the Village or the Castro, but the street is a pedestrian way, so it’s great to walk up and down Sainte Catherine street, look at the shops, and see the people having tasty meals on the terraces on the street. The “divers/cité” festival was in full swing, so there were tons of people and an outdoor concert at a nearby park (there’s an outdoor concert around almost every corner in the summer here – no joke! C’est très excellent!). This festival was not pride – oh, it was gay, and it was a party, and there tons of out-of-towners – but it wasn’t pride because pride is next week. I guess it was a massive, week long pre-pride. Anyway, I went to the outdoor concert, and it was fun. But not because of the musical act per se. The people watching was great, and the energy was really good. The musical act was a live house music “band.” The whole concept is counterintuitive to me – “live” music but no band, and it’s not like they’re actually spinning anything. The whole thing brought me back to NYC circa 1995 – holy shit! That was like 13 years ago! – which was kind of sweet and cool. That base house beat apparently NEVER changes, so it worked on my memory a little bit, and for a while there I felt a bit suspended between and encompassing the past and the present. The “show” was just a bit ridiculous, of course, but people in Montréal are really the most easy-going, accepting people ever: even the people who were NOT high were bopping around and enjoying that the performers were having a good time, though I think most people were waiting until it was late enough to go to the actual cool places.

The following day I went on a long walk/exploration of the Plateau. I had visited before with Tom and Amanda, since that was the neighborhood they stayed in. It was wonderful, of course. I took only a few pictures of it because really I was on rue St. Denis most of the time, and what you appreciate is the vibe of all the wonderful stores and “restos,” which I don’t think really comes through in film. Sunday I went to a cute little café at the border of the quartier Latin and the Village, recommended to me by Tom and Amanda’s teacher; I was able to get some work done there for the class I will be teaching…next month. Actually, in three weeks. Yikes! Must lesson plan. This week I’ve been going to school, doing my laundry and grocery shopping, and I returned today to Vieux Port to read, but the cold wind drove me away (it’s been raining on and off since last night, and things have cooled off…though not in my dorm room!).

I hope everyone is doing well.

P.S. I almost got over my loving to hate that person in my class yesterday (though she HAS improved, I’ll giver her that!), but today I’m back in full effect. She asks the teacher the meaning of words every time she encounters new words – even when the words are NOT new – and stops the class to do so, even though she HAS a dictionary. And she can’t seem to figure out French-Spanish cognates! Elle est très ridicule!

Museuming

2008-07-31T13:21:00.001-07:00

Whew! I just barely made it back from the Musée McCord before the skies ripped open and rain started pouring. This museum is great: it currently has an exhibition on women's fashion in Montréal from the 19th century to the present, along with their permanent collection on the history of Montréal. I was a bit miffed that the inclusion of the Iroquois and the Hochelaga is kind of an after thought, but this is definitely one of those look-at-how-great-this-city's-history-is museum. I mean, I guess most museums are like that, but seeing how they talked a lot about diversity I thought they should have more space devoted to the native residents. Including one huge totem pole (I don't think it was a totem pole per se, but it was a definite native pole) does not make up for the lack of inclusion. The tour guide was terriffic; she was so sweet. But four days into French 1, I was only able to understand 20% tops - which is to be expected - but my brain gets tired after two hours of it, especially after three hours of it in the morning. I wish I would have had more time to read the plaques in English to get the full story instead of approximating from faux-french knowledge and my own previous knowledge (the history section of the Lonely Planet guide). But once the tour was over, my feet hurt, and I had to get away.

I know I already blogged about this - and I understand I am not a great human being, so please bear with me - but the lady from my French class was on the tour, and even though she kept mostly quiet, when she speaks French (she's a native Spanish speaker like moi) what comes out is neither French nor Spanish nor English. And halfway through the sentence she gives up on French altogether and switches to Spanish, which the quebecois don't really know, leaving them to pick up the slack. I know I'm hating, I know, but hey, anyone who reads this should know that I like to talk trash. So there. Je suis désolé, though not really.

Speaking of talking trash, it's amazing how much of a bonding experience it is to talk trash with people. I went to lunch with a classmate who proceeded to trash the teacher - I agree with the substance of her comments, but since I like my paresseux approach to class, I's all good. Of course, the outcome is that now we're kind of friendly. C'est la vie!

Today is my first day of actual homework: I have to write up a recipe in French. The irony is that I have assigned this very same task often when I have taught Spanish class. Tee-hee. I hope it doesn't beaucoup suck...seeing how I will probably do it at midnight.

Hope all is well with all! Bon journée!

Do blondes really have more fun?

2008-07-30T12:13:00.000-07:00

In Montréal, apparently that is the case: "ma blonde" is "my girlfriend" in quebecois. Charming but pretty random. Class and the city are treating me pretty well. Even though I was supposed to do "rigorous" sightseeing on Monday afternoon, I kept putting off eating all morning long, so by the time I actually ate, I was completely famished. So I went in search for food and then went shopping at the supermarket. The supermarket, of course, continues to be the place with the most culture shock. One would think the language would be more difficult to get used to, but that doesn't bother me very much at all. What is pretty kooky is realizing that there are about three separate locations for the same type of food in the market: want bread? There's three different places in my local grocery store for bread. Same thing for lunch meat. And let's not even get started with cheese: there are about five cheese areas. So my day got absorbed by random errands and everything.

Yesterday was the first day of class. By far the hardest thing is trying to say something and having to fight back Portuguese and Spanish vocabulary. C'est trés interessant. The students are fine and so is the teacher. The style is not the Berkeley one I am accostumed to attending or teaching in, but it's pretty easy. I definitely want to fight my overachieving impulse. Today I was asked if I wanted to switch to the next level, and I was like "hell no!" Yesterday I went to the gym, and I was wiped out. I basically ate and fell asleep like at 8:30. There was still light out when I fell asleep. I figure I needed it. I dreamt of yelling at someone in my class b/c they were annoying me. I didn't write anything yesterday, but I was feeling nice. Today I'm not feeling so nice: one of my classmates is really annoying me. She's definitely en Belén con los pastores - and I mean, for real. Le voy a tener que prender una vela a la pobre. I'll do my best to be trés patient, but I can't guarantee it. She asked me a question today in class, and I said something snarky back. But the teacher laughed b/c she liked what I said, so whatever.

It's supposed to rain like cats and les chiens this afternoon - in fact, it looks pretty overcast right now. But I'm going to walk around a bit today and try to get some pictures. After all, following Ethan's logic, how else I will I be able to prove that I was here?

I hope everyone is doing well! Much love!

À bientôt!

Bonjour from Montréal! (Or, How do you say “I don’t know jack shit,” en français?)

2008-07-28T09:44:00.000-07:00

I’ve been in Montréal now for about two days and things are going very well. The weekend was spent with lovely Tom and Amanda who hosted me at their place in le Plateau (insert ooh! aah! here! This neighborhood is trés chic). We talked about anything and everything during the entire weekend – I had a blast. I hope they did too! They gave me tours of le Plateau, cafés, bookstores, and gave me the lay of the land in terms of what to do and how to deal with the language politics. I’m not even entertaining the language politics: I know no French and besides asking “Parlez-vous anglais?” I’m out of luck. I’d love to be “with it” and speak exclusively in French with everyone, but since it’s not really an option at this point, I really need to resist punishing myself for it. This is a completely new experience because everywhere I’ve been to study, I’ve been at least proficient, if not fluent, upon arrival. And now I’m like trés débutant, and honestly, it does not feel great. I’m even feeling delayed sympathy for classmates in Argentina and DR when I did study abroad there. I took the placement test today, and while I know I’m not supposed to know anything, which is the reason why I’m here at all, it felt really uncomfortable to be one of the first people who “finished” (stopped) the written portion of the test. I kept thinking “just remember you know lots of things….just not this one.” The oral exam was even worse! Tom and Amanda introduced me to their teacher (advanced class) yesterday at the park, and she was the one who administered the test. It was kind of embarrassing because she was pretty surprised at my level of sheer ignorance, even though she knew I’m a beginner. I mean, she was nice. She did nothing to make feel ill at ease. But I did wish I had another person evaluating me so that I could save a little bit of face. Oh well. I must embrace discomfort and just tell people I don’t know.

I moved into the dorm last night. It’s a good facility – the only not-so-nice thing is the lack of air conditioning. I mean, I get that the priority here is to make buildings that will stand up to the dreadful cold in the winter, but the window barely cracks open. There is a ceiling fan, which definitely does its job, so it’s not so bad. Amazingly, the bed is not an extra-long single like the beds in most U.S. dorms. It’s a bona-fide double. Whoo-hoo! No coffin here – yay!

This morning, I went to the orientation meeting for those participating in my three-week session. As Tom and Amanda told me, the group was very mixed – no preponderance of undergraduates, though 4 of the 10 of them live in my suite. It’s like living with my own students – c’est trés magnifique! NOT! Whatever – I should not be a twenteen hater – I’ll try not to be – but it feels so right. This morning’s orientation started off mysteriously, suspiciously: when I checked in, I was told there was another Javier Jimenez to whom they had already given my registration packet. They thought that it was a computer error that my name came up twice, so they just printed out one packet. I think the implications are clear then: I am in a program with my very own doppelganger (apparently, there is a Javier Jimenez in the English department at Berkeley), which means that I’m going to be wondering the whole time if I’m the real one or the fake one, whether we’re actually the same and we’re supposed to fuse in some metaphysical way in order to restore balance to the galaxy, or if, instead, we have to fight each other and blot one or the other out of existence. If the latter scenario is the appropriate one, I seriously hope I can take him – I like existing; it’s the only thing I know, really, and I’m not keen on going through to the other side. As you can see, this is going to be very tricky indeed. I will make sure to keep everyone appraised as to what happens on that front.

For today, I am planning a rigorous itinerary of sightseeing. No class and no assignments means “hit the streets” and get to know the place. There is a lot to see and do here, so it will be a challenge even coming up with what to do exactly, particularly since Karen and I did some sightseeing here last year. That experience should make it easier for me, but it makes it even harder because Karen and I went to the easier locales and I don’t know if I feel quite up to the more far-flung places yet.

Since this entry is up, it means that my internet is on, though at the time of writing, the connection isn’t live yet. That means then that I am free to receive and send e-mail, as well as chat and skype (hint hint). I hope everyone is having a nice summer – and let me know what’s up in your particular part of the world when you get a chance!

Love to all!

Ficando sozinho na casa

2005-07-08T09:43:00.000-07:00

All right, folks, sorry to not be producing anything. Classes started on Monday - it feels like a month - and handling different schedules and such has made it harder to blog...especially as I am trying to do it at school for free.

So what´s happening? Last weekend, I was supposed to go to the beach on Sunday. It was a beautiful day. I lazed around for a bit, waiting to ask my host brother if he wanted to go to the beach with me, but then I realized that the grandmother was getting released from the hospital. Before I knew it, I was invited to go visit with them to Petropolis, the nearby "Imperial City," where the grandparents live. I could have said no, but then I figured I was there to be around Brazilians and learn from them, so I decided to go with them.

After the whole hoopla with the decision to take the grandmother home (my senhora wanted her to stay at her apartment and was freaking out about her dad being hard-headed and all that), we went to the hospital to see what was up. The ambulance, which was supposed to take the gramma home, was like three hours late. So, since it was the grandfather´s birthday, we went and hung out in the hospital room and ate possibly the worst pasta I´ve had in my entire life. It made Pasta Pomodoro seem like divine ambrosia. So there we were, like 5 people squeezed into this room, eating and drinking.

The first thing the grandmother told me when she met me? "Isn´t my daughter nervous?" But the word "nervous" here means something more like "hysterical." I answered - "just a bit!" So after an hour and a half longer, the ambulance finally showed up and we got into the little car and got to Petropolis.

Petropolis is a beautiful colonial city built in the nineteenth century about an hour away from Rio. It´s up on mountain. We got there, and the ambulance got there before us, but we had the key. They were kind of annoyed. We get the old lady into her room, after much ado, and the moment that´s done: SE FUE LA LUZ! Everybody busted out laughing - it was hilarious. The doctor came up to me and said, "That doesn´t happen in your country!" And I was like, "yeah, it does!" (I still don´t understand why sometimes we have blackouts in CA in non-crisis times, but we do.) So after all that, the family would not let the ambulance team leave and made them sit down and eat dinner and all that. It was great! We all had a great time laughing it up. We had dinner, ate birthday cake, took pictures with the ambulance folks, made a video. Sound a little bit nuts? Sure, but very fun.

After that, classes began, and it´s basically five hours of Portuguese grammar and stuff. It gets a little bit nuts at about 9:50 when you have one more hour until the break but can´t stand to sit anymore. Ufa! I tried to go to the beach on Monday and Tuesday, but my plans were foiled both days! And then it began to rain. That´s right people, I still haven´t gone to the beach. It´s supposed to stop raining on Monday and hopefully Tuesday will be nice.

After Sunday, things with my host family are more homey. The senhora even offered to do the laundry with me. Of course later she made it a point to tell me she didn´t have to. I almost hit her. I was like, "I know, I can take it to the laundry!" If I knew portuguese better I´d tell her she didn´t have to remind me when she does me a favor. But overall, everything´s pretty nice. I understand more and more of their conversation, though the other the day I had to tell her: "calma! tranquila!" so she´d shut the hell up and let me finish responding to the question she was asking me (she was asking me why the credit card she sent me out to run an errand for her didn´t work - I was like, "look, the people at the store were not doing it"). Anyway her brother and her son, and her entire family really, always tell her that, so I just took my cue from them. Today she and her son are leaving to visit the grandparents for like 5 days, which is GREAT! I hate it when I´m watching t.v. and she turns the light off! I aways end up falling asleep, and I don´t want to mess with my schedule.

So life is just going on and chilling. Below are a couple of culture shock moments yall might like:

- Pizza. What do Brazilians do with pizza? When they receive it, they put ketchup and extra oil on it! Some even put mustard on it. But I´M the weird one! I almost freaked out.

- Road trippin'. When driving up and down extremely curvy highways in the mountains, Brazilians love to practice road slalom. In a road with two lanes, they go really fast in one lane and when they hit the curve, instead of slowing down or, say, turning the wheel, they allow themselves to drift over to the other lane. Yeah! When done with other aggressive cars, semis, and huge buses, it´s enough to make me rather nervous about dying and plummeting to my death!

Hope all is great with everyone!

Só ha que virar à atrás!

2005-07-01T12:35:00.000-07:00

Okay, so here I am in Rio. After what seemed like a really long time to get here, I finally made it. The flights were largely uneventful, mostly because on the flight Miami to Rio I took a double hit of Tylenol PM and didn't wake up until about an hour before landing. Unconscious flying is really where it's at.

I got to Rio and again everything was fine. I was a bit dazed, though, or must have been because after exchanging money at the airport, I walked away from my luggage and completely forgot about it. It didn't occur to me anything was amiss until one of the program folks sent to get us asked me if I had only brought a book bag. Thankfully my bag was still right where I had left it!

Out of the group that arrived with me, apparently I was the only one who could make myself understood. Except for someone from Oklahoma, but he doesn't count.

We drove into the city. Going through the northern part of the city on the highway in rush hour traffic: not so hot. That is, until we got to the Zona Sul (the South Side) and sure enough, it was hot. Miranda will back me up here, I think: the city part (not the beach part) was very much like Buenos Aires, which was very comforting. The energy, of course, entirely different from Buenos Aires.

I got taken to my host family, and even though there were and continue to be some communication breakdowns, it was pretty clear to me that my host mom is crazy. How did I know? She's got frizzy heair that looks like it has been dipped in Cherry Kool-Aid. The other clue, really fast talking with lots of idiosyncratic repetition. She is really a lovely person but quite animated. She's quite lively and was actively trying to get someone else from the program onto one of her empty bedrooms. How? By asking me if I could get the program to send her another one. I think she thought I didn't understand when I kept saying ''I don't know anything." But really I don't know jack s.hit. And I don't care. To make matters interesting, another guy from the program DID get dropped off for what we thought was the afternoon but ended up being a whole day.

With all these people, this place must be palacial, right? Wrong. It's fine, but it's a bit cramped. My first room, which I was subsequently told by program staff that I could NOT stay in was about, 8'x4'. My host mom insisted that it was "gostoso, ne?" At which point I started to seriously doubt my grasp of reality, her grasp of reality, and my portuguese because I was certainly thinking "Nao!" But I said yes b/c I didn't realize there was another room, which is the room I'm in now.

Now this room is fine, except that the bed is, well, hard as g.od.da.mned ROCK. It is really quite remarkable. My back is freaking out. I told her today we HAD to get the other mattress down and put it on top. The other catch of my room is that it's her son's, which is really weird for me. I don't *think* that he usually uses it, but how can I know? I asked her about it and asked HIM about it, and they both - citing individual reasons - say that he prefers sleeping on the floor in the living room. I still don't know what the deal is. Her son did say that he preffered near the TV with cable and his playstation and everything that was in the living room, which seems true to me only because when I got there he was engaged in a lively playstation soccer match. But again, who knows, really? If she's been doing this for a while, he may have just gotten used to sleeping in the living room.

Anyway, this guy's really nice, but as far as I can tell he spends most of his time indoors. He does go to school, but it's school vacation. He's 22 and chilling at home. He says it's because after exams one needs to just chill out, which IS what I did when school ended. He may not have any cash, though. At any rate, he is really nice and I try talk to him most of all b/c the mom gets highly dramatic over everything. A politician on t.v.: "meu deus!" A commercial: "Cristo santo!" Now I'm not religious, but there seems to be a clause in there about NOT taking the lord's name in vain. I mean, I'm talking ocd calling up on the lord not your regular "jesus!" (She's got that one down too). The mom and son relationship is like a never-ending late adolescent-parent one: she asks him questions, he doesn't say anything - unless she says something embarrassing in front of his friends and then he tells her not to meddle. Really, very interesting. I am though seeing his point of view a lot b.c homegirl is CRAZY - but sweet. But if I had to live with her all the time AND give up my room to strangers, I might get pretty bitchy too. It's usually all good around the house.

Well, between us all. The apartment itself - something goes wrong every day. It's funny b/c when I did study abroad in DR, I had it pretty damn good. Here, first the water heater wasn't working, then the rooms, now the bed. Amidst it all, the senhora's like 80-year-old mom fell and broke something last week and she had an operation and there's all that action going on. Which means the phone is ringing off the hook between 7 and 10 each night. "Meu deus!" Oh, and the phone doesn't call out either. All this adds to the DRAMA. So now we have her dad at the apartment, who I can barely understand because he is HELLA old and doesn't open his mouth very much, so I can't understand his pronounciation. And once the mom leaves the hospital, she's coming to stay too (her parents live in a nearby city). Can we say, manicomio? Yeah, let's say it. But it is sort of entertaining and fun.

Because I haven't really met people from my program and the senhora's kid only stays at home, I've been staying in and watching t.v. Each night I understand more - and now I think what's going in the telenovelas, though I'm still hard-pressed to give an accurate report of what happened. 'My body also can't seem to decide to change from west coast time to rio time, so I've been staying awake all night and waking up late and all kinds of crap. It's a bit nuts.

Tomorrow, I go on a City Tour at 8a.m.!!! That should help me regularize my sleeping. After tomorrow, I don't think I'll be staying up all night. And then classes start (at 8) on Monday. That will give me structure as to how to spend my time and all that. I've been having a hard time figuring out what to do because I've got no one to do stuff with and my usual partner in crime is very far away (and sometimes I get a little sozinho), but I do get out and do stuff, figuring out where everything is. Yesterday, I tried to see if I could get a chip for my cell phone that would make it work here so that people could call me right to that number (to all those I gave my home number, don't bother!), but my phone didn't work. Damn t-mobile!!! I'll try another provider. After doing that, I walked to Praia Ipanema (I live in Copacabana) and walked down the beach. It was nice...until I turned around (ha que virar a atras!) and saw everything - it was breathtaking! It was so beatiful - the beach surrounded by mountains. I broke out the camera and took pictures. Too many, I think. Whatever.

I gotta get going now, but I will provide a full report of the program's kids' behavior on the city tour. I got seated during the orientation next to the girls from the OK Corral, which is my affectionate nickname for the gaggle of girls from Oklahoma University. If any bovine connotation arises from the use of corral, I will not discourage it. Anyway, they're very loud and had normal voice conversations during the presentation. I am gladdened by the thought that since they weren't paying attention, they'll get lost in the city and get taken by everyone. Everyone on the group, mostly, is about 20-22, which is a wonderful age I'd never be again - or not at that level of gregariousness and ridicuolousness. I've never been good at making friends just for making friends, and with these youth around me, it really is not something that I am actively pursuing, though I'll have to, I guess, since I don't know anyone else. Whatever. I'm sure they'll do and say many ridiculous things that will amuse both you and me. Até logo!

Vambora ao Rio!

2005-06-25T19:20:00.000-07:00

I really don't know how to do this thing, but I figure it is a good way to try to keep in touch with everyone. I will try to make lots of entries to keep all my loved ones in the States, especially the lovely mbw, know how I'm doing in Rio. This is just the starter one...hopefully my talkativeness will make these worthwhile, particularly since I will try not to speak English at all while in Rio.