Blog Update: Now available in French!

All blog posts can now be viewed in French! It’s extremely easy to switch back and forth from French posts to English posts. Here’s how:

How to view blog posts in French:

On the right panel, located at the top, is a Translate option. Click the arrow next to “Select Language” and select French. From then on, the content of the blog will be displayed in French. 

 

To stop viewing posts in French:

At the top of the page there is a tab that says: “Translated to: French.” Click the button next to it that says: “Show original” to view the blog in English. Or, click the X on the right side of that tab. The blog content will then go back to its default English setting.

There’s also an easy and convenient way to view and comprehend the French posts without having to switch back and forth from French to English– when viewing a blog post in French, hovering your mouse over any sentence will provide the English translation from the original post, while highlighting the sentence that you’re currently viewing. 

Disclaimer:

The translation between the two languages may not be perfect. Often times, translation engines produce inaccurate translations and cannot be relied on for 100% precision. Online translators are most used for quick vocabulary translation, like a one-word translation. Translating large amounts of text may result in grammatical errors and inaccurate translations.

Here is a funny example of what can happen when relying on online translation engines.

Enjoy!

 

Notes on Language: When Years of Experience Fails You

During the past seven months, I’ve made acquaintances with three German natives. All three came to the United States for three to six-month internships at Schott Optical in Massachusetts, where my boyfriend was on co-op.

The first German, Felix, was 28 years old. Aside from his native language, he knew Spanish almost fluently, and had impressive French and English skills.  Although he traveled a lot, he was eager to learn about America, as if it were the first time he had ever left his home country.

The second German that I met, Ben, was 24. His English improved throughout his stay, but wasn’t awful to begin with. Ben interacted well with his co-workers and us. He had a great sense of humor and wanted to make the most of his stay by fully exploring the area around him.

And then there was Martin. At 19 years old and without working a day in his life, Martin came to the U.S. from Bavaria, Germany, knowing very little and very basic English. He was timid and quiet, and avoided talking whenever he could. I only spent one weekend with him and during that small window of time I picked up on one thing: The most common phrase that Martin used was “I don’t know.” 

When it comes to language, the German that I can identify with most is Martin. Throughout the past seven weeks of my advanced French class, I caught myself saying “Je ne sais pas” far too often. When I heard Martin say, “I don’t know,” I immediately saw myself in French class. It became clear that when a language barrier is present, our easy way out is by the declaration of ignorance. “I don’t know” is a safety net; the words prevent people from further asking questions, they provide a quick end to unsettling conversation.

It took almost seven weeks of two-hour periods of full French exposure before I realized that I was hiding behind the wall of “I don’t know,” especially during the “bad days.”

            I’ve studied French for over seven years. Martin has studied English since he was a young boy in school. And yet we protect ourselves with “I don’t know.”

Symptoms Fluctuate: The Good and the Bad

            After five weeks of advanced French classes, I can easily categorize each class in to “good” days or “bad” days. On bad days, I leave class discouraged and frustrated and tell myself I never want to take another French class again.

            Yet a good day in French means that I comprehend at least 90 percent of the class, and can easily follow along. My daily summary presentation goes well, and I’m able to express an opinion during the discussion about the current chapter we’re studying. I noticed that after good days, I usually leave class thinking in French for an hour or two.

            As a senior in high school I was offered the chance to spend a year in France as a French Exchange student. After declining the offer for a number of reasons, I saw an article in the newspaper about Julia Karpinski, a girl from my school who spent a year in France. The most memorable thing that she said from the article was: 

 “As soon as you start dreaming in French you know you’re going to be okay.”

            In my defense, I’m only immersed in 100% French for 4 hours per week, so even though I haven’t dreamed in French, thinking in a foreign language (that I’m not already fluent in) is something to be proud of. 

            The first class of my sixth week in French, I caught myself volunteering to answer questions, which had been a first for me all quarter.  My contribution to class discussion became more voluntary, instead of waiting for the professor to call on me to answer a question or participate in the discussion.

            It’s hard to say whether I’ve had more good or bad days in terms of quantity, but the greatest factor between the two is impact. A bad day can affect me for a night, or a week, or just give me a temporarily grim outlook on the quarter. A good day gives me a sense of pride and accomplishment, and reinforces my love for the language. On a good day, I can’t wait to visit France.

Exercise and the Language of Love

            In the first quarter of my sophomore year I took a Turbo Kick fitness class. After the quarter ended I asked the instructor for some exercises to do for the following quarter, since I wouldn’t be taking another fitness class at that time. As a beginner working with weights, I started with three pounds. Throughout the few months, three pounds got too easy. As I tried to move up to five-pound weights, it was too hard. I was stuck in the middle.

            Over the past three weeks that’s how I’ve come to feel about my French class. Intermediate classes are too easy; advanced classes are too hard. The tough part is realizing which place I should really be. Do you push yourself to compensate for the gap in comprehension, or do you belittle your knowledge and take it easy and coast?

            I believe that several optimists would argue that it’s more important for the experience and the development in language to shoot high and take everything you can out of it.  I can’t say I disagree with them. For now, even though it’s not the easiest class, it’s hard to say that any bad will come out of it unless my GPA takes a turn for the worse. If that’s the case then I have a decision to make: try another advanced French class, or step down and complete my French minor with an intermediate level course. I don’t think it’s a decision I can make until I’m further progressed into the quarter, but it’s definitely something to be thinking about over the next few weeks.

            Although it seems to be a situation that can only be evaluated in hindsight, I can only trust that my time in this class is only beneficial to my French proficiency and I’ve gotta give it what I can until the quarter is through. If worse comes to worst – it’s just one class of many in my college career.

One, Two, Skip a Few, Welcome to Advanced French!

           Today, we are told by teachers, employers, people who have done it in the past, or pretty much just anybody that studying abroad or visiting a different country is one of the most fulfilling experiences to get out of life. I think it’s safe to say that everyone who has ever gone to a different country (at least one that speaks a native language other than English) can say that they’ve experienced culture shock. What about those of us that have experienced culture shock in our own countries?

            What do I mean by that? I’ve been taking French classes since I was in the sixth grade – basically the first time they ever told us we needed to take a language. I’ve had an interest in the French language since I saw a photo of the Eiffel Tower. I decided to continue taking French classes to fulfill my RIT liberal arts minor, and after a series of hectic and confusing events I was kicked out of my Intermediate French II class and placed into the Advanced French III class, or the highest class that the Institute offers.

            I dreaded my first class, spending the entire 110 minutes stiffly pinned back on my chair, fumbling with my fingers out of nerves – needless to say, my posture had never been better.  

            At the end of the class, I had every possible worry going through my head – from stressing about the grade I could get in the class to wondering if I could remember even the simplest of words in the French language.

            After class I spoke to the teacher and explained to her my fears and she told me that I must not worry about translating every single word. She told me to focus on understanding the majority of the content and I would get through the class just fine.

            I decided to take this as an opportunity to really extend my knowledge of French and take an interest in the differences of French and American culture. For the remainder of the next ten weeks, I look forward to evaluating my progress and my gradual comfort in the class, hoping to get used to a different culture in one classroom.