La Rochelle #24: First Lecture and Tidbits

So, after a lovely morning of catching up with some well-missed people on phone, Skype and gmail chat (oh how I love modern technology), I went to my first class: translation. 

Since I’ve been allowed (subject to my actual ability to understand anything) to do the EU law course, I no longer need this class – nor the other translation course, nor (thank god) the international environment law course.

However I have been stalking Philosophy of Language in NZ for a while now, and I doubt they will offer it during my (as per the current plan, anyway) undergraduate studies, let alone at a convenient hour. SO I thought I would do translation just for kicks (it’s only 1.5 hours per week anyway, and internally assessed).

Unfortunately, I was not particularly impressed. To be fair, that judgment applies more to the lecturer rather than the course material (which it is never really fair to judge in the introductory class).

He is the token kiwi professor here, and has actually met with me and the other exchange girls before, when we were sorting out our courses. (Prior to that we had also been emailing him in regards to various queries.) On the day we all met, he commented that I was like him, because I was all hyperactive and excitable and demanding to do lots of things - but apparently that has completely gone out the window.

Near the end of class, he ran out of stuff to do (since there wasn't a projector in the room for his original plan), so he got a few students to read out paragraphs of an English extract he'd given us to translate into French for homework. First he asked a couple French kids; then he asked Vegetarian and Pirate who were next to me. 

Then he asked me.

Throughout the class it had been unclear whether he'd remembered that I was one of the exchange students. He kept saying "you two" during his constant, over-coddling interruptions to see whether we/they were following the lecture alright. (FYI it was about 95% in English, with the odd, hardly speedily-spoken French tangent; he isn't a native Frenchman after all.)

Aside from the fact that he was being unnecessarily attentive to us, and probably destroying our already narrow chances that anyone else in the class would ever talk to us - well, after it was my turn to read a paragraph, he said to himself some sort of comment that my English was good. I wasn't sure if he'd actually said it, since Pirate hadn't heard it - but Vegetarian did, SO yeah.

To tell completely fair, he emailed us late yesterday inviting us to one of his courses that started today, about New Zealand. He said it was about flora and fauna; but even if he hadn't said that, why the hell would I travel to the other side of the world to learn about where I just left? (The impression that I got was that it wasn't even a history course; it was just Modern New Zealand.) The other two went, while I stayed at home and caught up with people. Apparently he got the other two to introduce themselves to the class, and asked them a few questions about NZ that they didn't know answers to. SO maybe he just forgot that I was an exchange student because of my lack of attendance. But whatever man, he's still on a thin wire.

I hope the other translation class with the different lecturer is better. I only really need to do one after all; it's not like either is on my Learning Agreement or going to be cross-credited.

Anyway, on a completely different note, here are a series of random pictures from around La Rochelle:

You might have to zoom in, but try to find:
The aformentioned "Place du Pourquoi Pas";
"Jean-Paul Sarre", "Robbespierre", and "Jules Ferry".

Busstop ad that I found unnecessarily hilarious.
"[Intercity transport things], 300 destinations to link everyone together.
That's very NICE, as the English say."

And this is a van in a parking lot.
I'm still not sure exactly what the company does;
I keep getting distracted by the topless guys on their knees.
(OH FRANCE.)

A gay ad in the Science faculty. [Apologies for light reflection, it was behind glass.]
"Here is a boy who likes boys.
But this boy who likes boys doesn't like the boys who don't like boys who like boys.
This phrase is complicated but less so than the life of a homosexual student."
[On a pedantic note, the phrase at least would be less complicated if they inserted a comma.
Also slightly less complicated in English due to our relaxed use of definitive particles.]

From when I was debating buying a cheese grater. Unfortunate French name.

Found the CARTOON/MANGA section in a bookshop!
I was pretty excited considering that I didn't recognise any of them.

If I ever talk about the clock tower, this is it. (Well, the top of it; I wanted detail.)
There's an arch undernearth that you can pass through to get to main-ish part of town.

Important note: to the left of the above picture, is my NEW FAVOURITE PLACE, which I may or may not have mentioned before - a shop that on one side sells chips/burgers/sandwiches/kebabs (also I thinks steak and hotdogs), and on the other side sells crepes and waffles and ice cream; also it has ginormous cookies. More importantly I discovered on Saturday night (after a rather uneventful evening with Pirate; well, other than my waist being pinched by a strange man who thought I was someone else) that it is open after midnight! (My guess was correct; any kebab-seller shouldn't close themselves to their best market.)

And here is a fucking romantic picture of a tower (or as I call them, A CASTLE) and a sunrise on my way home.

Also, on Friday night Pirate and I discovered that there is a night-market thing at Place de Verdun, which had fruit, veggies, meat, cheese, crepes, and CHURROS:

French churros, anyway. Still can't really go wrong with deepfried dough coated in sugar.