Strasbourg, September 17
I should be studying right now, but I’m compelled to add
some more notes to my journal, especially since it’s so easy to forget one’s
activities after a few days.
Friday I showed up for the last class of the week, according
to the guide pedagogique emploi du temps, and found two others of our little
quartet waiting for the instructor of Seminaire Pratiques d’ecriture[MS1] :
traductions adaptations, Lea and Julie, both francaises. Fifteen minutes later, I was not at all surprised that she still
hadn’t appeared. So off we went again to HQ, slowly traversing the corridor,
checking all the panneaux for some sort of communication as to why the class
did not take place. After some time we
found a message stating that the class was in session for three hours for each
of four days (12 hours total). But the
days were not indicated. This was
supposedly a “trasversaux” or “sem-transversaux” class involving other
disciplines. Lea, the most self-assertive of our little group, considered it
scandaleux that evidently the other disciplines were notified of the days but
ours was not. We both sent an email to
the instructress at the generic email address, with copies to each other. I
politely, but pointedly, asked her what in blazes was going on. Lea’s message was a little more pointed. As of
today I have not had a reply, I will have to ask Lea if she replied to her
email. The following Monday we were
assembled for our afternoon class with our director, who hadn’t a clue as to
the schedule of Mme-la-prof. Fortunately
one of the second year students, obviously more in touch with the faculty, had
the dates. It turns out all my Fridays are free until November 8.
I suspect this is more for the benefit of the
instructors than the students.
Saturday morning I checked out a place which the beauteous
Audrey had set up for me. It was
depressing. Enough said. This was followed by a trip to Place Kleber
for books and supplies. Returning to the
Rue du bon Pasteur, I exercised for the first time since leaving San Francisco,
running in the Parc de l’Orangerie which is quite nearby. Sunday, with the help
of my Mme. Cazenave, Airbnb hostess I checked out apartment rentals, saw one,
not bad but which would not work, no kitchen equipee (stove, oven, sink, etc).
But I did get an appointment for Monday evening for an apartment very nearby,
which would be perfect.
Monday my first class was an elective, Arabic, writing and
speaking. I’ve always wanted to study Arabic, and I think I can do OK with the
speaking, but the writing? Wow. Regardless, I picked up the text at Place Kleber.
The transportation system in Strasbourg is very
interesting. When boarding the trams you
buy a ticket at the individual stations, then you validate them at a machine
nearby. Or, if you start on a bus, you
can buy the ticket (1.60 euros one way or double that for a round trip), and
you validate the ticket on the bus. You can make a connection between bus/tram
or vice versa, but it has to be within an hour.
At every place you board you have to validate your ticket. I was told the system was strictly regulated,
a fact I found hard to understand since it seemed that you could board a tram
with ease without paying, there was nothing to stop you. Regardless, being a law-abiding individual, I
followed the rules. On the return from
Place Kleber I learned differently. For the first time I saw a ticket agent,
who I guess boards the trams at random times.
He checked everyone’s ticket, including mine, which of course was
perfectly validated. Don’t know what
would have happened had I not had a valid ticket, maybe I would be writing this journal from my jail cell.
Monday afternoon my class was “Theatralites”. The subject
matter is as vague as the title, and cynic that I am, I suspect that it’s an
invention of the faculty to plump up the program. But it’s going to be an important part of the
program, so I better get with it.
Headed for 22 Rue de Johann Sebastian Bach to see the
apartment. Yes it’s perfect, but I was
semi-candid in advising the bailleur (landlord) how long I was going to stay,
definitely a point not in my favor. He had a couple of other people who were
interested, and I will know tomorrow.
Today I sent him an email offering some little incentives which
hopefully will put me in a better light.
Tuesday morning there was a presentation on Cervantes, in
Spanish, by a Spanish professor and
author, Senor Galicio, very interesting, even though I probably understood only
about 70%. In the afternoon I had my Spanish lit class – plays of the Siglo de
Oro – more theater. But I did find out that my copy of Don Juan was probably
not going to work optimally, and that there was a third bookstore at Place
Kleber at the Aubette, a sort of upscale galleria, where I would probably find
a more informative edition – this from a student, as it seems a universal law
that no faculty member is a source of any practical information.
Mme. Cazenave, my Airbnb hostess is working on a certificate
in speech therapy. She was married to a physicist who worked not only at the
University, but also in China, England, the US and elsewhere, and she is fairly
knowledgeable about the university system in France. She tells me that on dit (they say) that the
professors of non-scientific studies are much less serious than the professors
of scientific studies. I don’t doubt it.
Our group at Rue du Bon Pasteur has expanded to four, with
the arrival of Sabrina, a charming flamande, who is in Strasbourg on some sort
of teaching internship. Laure
(francaise) is studying biology at a 2 year vocational institution, which
sounds pretty rigorous from what she tells me.
The two of them are probably similar in age. My hostess, a mature, experienced mother and
grandmother, is still young enough to be my daughter. Regardless, I hope we will become good
friends.
The nice M. Schneider has sent my helpful hostess an email
with the name and contact of another agent immobilier. If the apartment I’m interested in does not
work out I will give her a call.
So much for studying. Tomorrow is another day.
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