In high school, the first thing your teacher will probably ask about a new class is each student’s expectation of it. As intellectual or superficial they may be, at least the students get to express their honest assumption or standard for the class. Unfortunately, this is a practice rarely demonstrated in the university scene—for what reason, you might ask? Well, my guess is so that professors can save themselves and their students the burden of formally acknowledging the failed expectations. So, where is this vague introduction going anyway? Basically, all I’m trying to point out is that college isn’t as grand as I allowed myself to think it is.
I always imagined college to be just like how the media portrays it. Equally-trimmed Bermuda grass with flawlessly paved stone and marble sidewalks. Beautiful, crimson brick-buildings under old, majestically tall, thick-leafed trees. Serene, reverie-indulging libraries and leather-bound books perfectly categorized in towering neo-Gothic shelves with wheeled, wooden ladders to match. Ah, I can already smell the soothing aroma of top-quality education and feel the breeze of academic freedom encouraging me to delve into the deep of personal and intellectual growth… Cheesy, I know. Little did I realize that, all this time, the image that I have developed of what a university is was majorly influenced by Western and occidental representations—mostly those of prestigious roots and rich (both in the literal and figurative sense) history.
So, instead of the Ivy-esque scenery I’ve imagined up in my head, I get arm-length karabao grass with bumpy, cracked cement. Aged, discolored buildings shaded by creeping mangrove-y plants. Crowded libraries with rows of long untouched books on modest wooden shelves. And as a bonus: an unbelievable amount of stray cats lurking everywhere. How careless of me to think that the aesthetic qualities of the likes of Oxford, Harvard, and the sort could ever come close to the universities in my cozy little archipelago in the Pacific.
On the academic side of the coin, I discovered that, truly, freedom is something not to be taken lightly. For this first semester, I was given the choice to freely chose (1) a social science and philosophy course, and (2) a foreign language course apart from this semester’s required curriculum. Trust me, where I study, the amount of academic freedom given to its students is quite astounding that I really couldn’t make my mind up about which courses to take. There was a countless number of SSP courses and foreign languages to choose from and it actually took a couple of days—even weeks—to make up my mind. Finally, I ended up with Archaeo 2 (Archaeological Heritage; basically, Introduction to Archaeology) and French 10 (the elementary French course). I chose to take Archaeo 2 because of my undying love for history and Indiana Jones and French 10 because I’ve always thought it was a beautifully sounding language (plus, so that I can finally understand Edith Piaf and read those french music blogs with ease. They were both GEs (general education courses) anyway so I didn’t expect any difficulty in these subjects at all! In fact, I thought I was going to absolutely enjoy them! Naturally, I thought wrong.
All jokes aside, these classes were nothing like what I expected. For Archaeology, I was hoping we’d take up famous archaeological sites and the significant events that happened there. Instead, I’ve been learning about the formation of rocks caused by geological phenomena, the deposition of different soil layers over time, and bones from a-tad-more-than-obscure historical locations—which is, to a point, quite interesting but really not what I signed up for. If I wanted to learn about rocks and gravel, I would probably have taken up something like Geology.
French 10, on the other hand, was more of a disappointment. I don’t want to dwell on it so let’s just say that I can sense that our French professor isn’t so fond of teaching my class, making us feel like a huge waste of time.
In the end, the two classes I was most excited for turned out to be the two I would dread waking up every morning for the most.
Apart from this, I also had the false notion that I would IMMEDIATELY meet people who are EXACTLY like me. I thought I’d meet people with the exact same belief system, ideologies, political views, interests, food preferences, etc. Now that I think about it, that was a pretty unbelievable expectation to have for a state university that cater to all religions, social class, political stands, and even sexuality.
From these unfortunate letdowns, I immediately assumed that I wouldn’t be enjoying my stay at the university I chose to enroll in. Oftentimes, I would begin to think how I would have ended up if I opted to accept my slot at “the” blue school in Katipunan instead or took my scholarship and stipend at the one in Ortigas. Surely, I wouldn’t be too far from my comfort zone there. Perhaps the professors there would treat us a little better. Maybe I would have met more people on the same wavelength as me, I would tell myself. I brooded continually and confined myself in an isolated period of regret, not opening up to any of my friends about my personal ordeal. Because of this, I was too discouraged to study, and too bothered to care about making new friends. At this point, I became excessively clingy towards my old friends and overly nostalgic about my Glory Days in high school. Looking back at myself now, I’d say it was pretty damn pathetic. Luckily for me, I realized that soon enough.
I guess one lesson learned from this is that I shouldn’t have expected too much. I filled up my cup and didn’t let new ideas to flow in. I kept a closed mind. I shut the full cup.
College is college and there will always be courses that are much more than what we signed up for. There will always be professors that will make you feel like a pathetic excuse for a student. There will always be people who have different perspectives than you who may even condemn you for it. And, there will ALWAYS be an endless supply of stray cats in our country. I carelessly assumed that college would rid me of all the problems and worries of the past and bless me with the glorious (but actually quite overwhelming) gift of a fresh, new life—a clean slate. Because of my assumptions, I completely forgot about why I chose to accept my slot at the state university in the first place. I didn’t go to the university to admire the picturesque view. Nor did I go there to get spoon-fed by professors. And, I most definitely didn’t go there just to feel like I belong. I chose to go to the state university over the others for the experience and the life lessons I’ll be learning from there. With all due respect, there are so many things that can still be fixed or improved in my university, but I guess these are the imperfections I can use to reflect the imperfections in myself. I knew that the university would prepare me not only for my future career, but also life in general. I guess all I have to do is to let it teach me, hardships, ugliness, cats, and all.
This was my first encounter with the French Language where I would have to execute changes to the words to make it Masculine (Masculin à Masculun) or Feminine (Feminin à Feminun).
Par exemple:
For nationalities that end in "ais", "ois", "ain", "and", “in”, & "ol", one has to add “e” to make it Feminine.
There is also a special case wherein you won’t have to add or obliterate letters to make it masculine or feminine.
Par exemple:
russe, arabe, suisse, latin
Transforming masculine to feminine or vice versa isn't that hard for me. What bothers me is will I be able to distinguish a person’s nationality by just his/her looks. I admit, I am not good with nationalities. Everyone seems to look the same. Good thing we have oral communication where we can decipher one’s nationality by his/her accent.
It was our second meeting in French 10 when we were asked to share to the class all the French words we know, and all the common French words we've encountered, whether we know its meaning or not.
And more.
But what enthralled me most is the meaning of “Ratatouille”, VEGETABLE IN TOMATO SAUCE?! All along, I was thinking that the reason why the movie “Ratatouille” was entitled that way was because the main character in the movie is a rat! Whoah! I know I shouldn’t be reacting like this right now because I wasn’t that curious when I watched the movie but I felt so dim-witted. (haha) Well, at least now I know why it was entitled Ratatouille; ‘cause the main character is a superb cook! Yay!
(Yet the movie makers intend to swerve the viewers with its title and main character in the movie.)
Ratatouille à ra-ta-TOO-ee
Because I got curious, I searched what Ratatouille really is.
This Niçoise dish is much more than a vegetable soup. It can be prepared fairly quickly by cooking everything together at the same time, but that needs to be done in the correct sequence to not miss out the art and the flavour of the dish.
It’s also true that the recipe can legitimately vary according to tastes, but the variations should be based on experience. The volume is also very variable.
“Too much” doesn’t apply to ratatouille. Cook it the first time, and eat it hot as the main course; then have it again later as a cold hors-d'oeuvre. In the summer time, it’s great as a cold main-course dish. It keeps for several days in the refridgerator. Ratatouille is good served with couscous grain (semoule) or rice.
Cooking Pot - we use a large pressure cooker, without the pressure.
Recipe (12 servings makes about 4.5 litres)
1.6 kg tomato [tomate]
700 g eggplant (2) [aubergine]
500 g zucchini (2) [courgette]
700 g bell pepper (2-3) [poivron]
1 kg onion [oignon]
6 cloves garlic [ail]
Herbes de Provence (basilic,thyme, parsley)
olive oil [huile d'olive]
salt, pepper [sel, poivre]
140 g tomato paste
Classical Method
This is the “old fashioned” method. We did it this way the first couple of times, just for the experience. It fills the kitchen surfaces with pots and pans, takes a bit longer, but doesn’t really add to the flavor.
1. Cut the eggplant into rondelles; keep separate. Peel the zucchini, cut into rondelles, keep separate. Clean the bell pepper, cut into small strips, keep separate. Chop the onion, keep separate.
2. Peel, de-seed and drain the tomatoes (*)
3. Using four separate cooking pots, put some olive oil in the bottom; put in the eggplant, zucchini, pepper, and onion into their own pots; sprinkle some flour onto the eggplant and onto the zucchini. Put the four pots on to cook slowly. Each cooks for about 30 minutes, but test and cook each until correctly soft.
4. In a large cooking pot with a thick bottom, put in olive oil, chopped garlic, herbes de Provence. Squeeze the tomatoes in by hand. Cook slowly until you have a thick tomato sauce.
5. Add the four separately cooked vegetables to the tomato sauce, mix thoroughly and heat. Pour off the excess oil from the top. It’s ready to serve.
Ratatouille, A Disney Pixar Movie
Ratatouille: Vegetables in Tomato Sauce (yum!)
I found it interesting when we tackled the French Alphabet in class. The letter B is pronounced as “beh”, C as “seh”, D as “deh”, etc. When you think of it, it sounds really funny but that’s just how it is pronounced. And what’s more fascinating is that the English Alphabet song shares the same melody with the French Alphabet. Hence, making it easier for me to learn and memorize it.
Do you want to learn the French Alphabet too?! Go! It's fun!
Bonjour, je m'appelle Aubrey! Hello, my name is Aubrey!
Comment tu t'appelles? What is your name?
Il s'appelle Troy. His name is Troy.
Elle s'appelle Koreen. Her name is Koreen.
Il s'appelle Conrad.
Il s'appelle Keith.
Elle s'appelle Simone.
Elle s'appelle Mhela.
Elle s'appelle Dianne.
Elle s'appelle Yani.
Elle s'appelle Michelle.
Elle s'appelle Tanya.
Elle s'appelle Karen.
Elle s'appelle Pauline.
Elle s'appelle Samantha.
Elle s'appelle Camille.
Elle s'appelle Carmela.
First meeting wasn't that bad. I actually enjoyed it. We formed a circle and had a mini exercise on how to introduce oneself and ask another person's name.
ME: Je m'appelle Aubrey. Comment tu t'appelles?
CLASSMATE: Je m'appelle _____. Comment tu t'appelles?
And the cycle goes on and on.
We also had a "game of memory". First, I will introduce myself then I will introduce the person on my right then the person on my left. It wasn't that hard actually. It's just that after one cycle, we will shuffle ourselves and the pacing gets more faster and faster after every round, so you really have to sort of memorize all their names.
ME: Je m'appelle Aubrey. Il/Elle s'appelle _________. Il/Elle s'appelle _________.
CLASSMATE: Je m'appelle _______. Elle s'appelle Aubrey. Il/Elle s'appelle _________.
We also picked our officers for the whole semester.
Président <prezidung> Troy
Vice-président <vis prezidung> Simone
Trésoriere <trezorye> Koreen
Secrétaire <secreter>
The activities were very effective. I was able to memorize the names of my classmates without much effort of really memorizing them.
If you have read my previous post about the origin of French kiss, I have mentioned that it would be much more passionate, more luring, and it exudes more intense love if it was called THE Florentine Kiss. I won't be able to change it now but I guess I can spread it in my own little ways (like making it the title of this post and using it. haha). <3
A Florentine kiss, tongue kiss, pash, snog or deep kiss is a passionate
romantic or sexual kiss in which one participant's tongue touches the
other's tongue (or lips) and usually enters his/her mouth.
Although family members may sometimes kiss on the lips, a kiss using
the tongue almost always indicates a romantic relationship. Florentine
kissing stimulates the lips, tongue and mouth, which are all areas
very sensitive to touch. It is considered by many to be both very
pleasurable and highly intimate.
Unlike other forms of "casual" kissing (such as brief kisses of
greeting or friendship), episodes of Florentine kissing will often be
prolonged, intense, and passionate. Because of the intimacy associated
with it, in many regions of the world tongue kissing in public is not
acceptable to most, particularly for an extended time. In Israel,
legal precedent has been set for considering a Florentine kiss without
consent, as opposed to a kiss without involvement of the tongue,
indecent behavior.
In a tongue kiss participants exchange saliva, something which would
be considered disgusting in other contexts. Although most sexually
transmitted diseases are not transmitted by kissing, the exchange of
saliva in a Florentine kiss may increase the chances of catching an orally
transmitted disease. Infectious mononucleosis (American: Mononucleosis
or, colloquially, "mono"; European: glandular fever), a disease spread
through saliva, is colloquially referred to as "the kissing disease."
A Florentine kiss is often used by lovers to express their intimate
feelings toward each other, whether in passing or as a prelude to
sexual intercourse (as a part of foreplay). Florentine kissing also occurs
frequently throughout actual intercourse. A Florentine kiss is thus a
highly intimate affair, and in a manner of speaking symbolizes a side
of the physical love one has for the other. In essence it can also be
called a passionate or loving kiss.
French kiss. Florentine kiss. Francais baiser.
Whatever it is called, I hope we do it all for LOVE.
Have you ever wondered why "French kiss" is called such? Well, I have been wondering why on earth is it called French. It could be popularized as American kiss, Chinese kiss, or Filipino kiss perhaps. Why not?!
The French kiss origin is oftentimes a misconception for many. Most people think that the French kiss started in France. Well, I did at first. Although the name may insinuate that it was indeed created in France, this is just what people tend to believe, and it is not true. There are several theories and speculation for its origin.
Why then is then it called a French kiss? One theory for utilizing the country France in its name is because France was always known as the city of love. With the Eifel tower and Paris still symbols of love and romance, the French are credited with the French kiss origin. Also, not only have the French been historically known to be romantic, they are also labeled as sensual and promiscuous people compared to the rest of the world. Additionally, the French were basically the first people to be acceptable of public displays of love and affection, like kissing.
Well, this is just one theory.
According to one of my sources, it originated in the Greek Mythology. Erato, the muse of love and erotic poetry, had an argument with Zeus. Zeus then decided to punish her with a terrible curse which forces her to kiss all men she likes with this passionate kiss with the tongue. Erato's life became miserable and was almost rejected from her close ones until a traveller named Gaul came to her life. She fell in love with him. The curse made her kiss him with passion and tongue. This kiss became the symbol of true and passionate love. Erato decided not to mention the pleasure of such kiss to Zeus and kept the habit of the "Gallic Kiss", which later transformed to French Kiss.
Although the Greek mythology history for me says it all, I couldn't help but explore more. Another source told me that French kiss was first known as maraichinage, a term to describe the prolonged, deep tongue kiss practiced by the Maraichins, inhabitants of the French region of Brittany. That's why they called it French kiss.
Another theory I found was that the term French kiss is claimed to be dated back to at least the 1820s by some people. (I was wondering if these "some people" were the Maraichains.) Its use was rampant once again around the 1920s. This was the time that the French were preoccupied in love, attraction, and passion while the rest of the world was not.
According to wikipedia,
The colloquial term French kissing stems from France. In France, it is referred to as baiser amoureux ("love kiss") or baiser avec la langue ("kiss with the tongue"), even if in past times it was also known as baiser florentin ("Florentine kiss").
It could have been more romantic if it was called "Florentine kiss". Although it is not a one-syllable word which makes the "French" word easier to remember and say, "Florentine kiss" exudes more passion, lure, and love.
In French slang, a French kiss is called a patin (ice skating shoe) or a galoche. Doing a French kiss is referred to rouler un patin ("roll a skate", as in ice skating shoe) or rouler une pelle("roll a shovel"). French kiss is cited in Private Lindner’s Letters: Censored and uncensored letters, anecdotes, sketches, a collection of items gathered during World War I and published in 1939:
The actual author of the term French kiss is unknown. It could have been easier for me to know its origin if someone knew who he or she was. Whoever it was though would have never guessed that his or her phrase is now a common knowledge and known throughout the world. Due to hardly any documentation, more than likely the author of the term will never be known and remain a mystery forever.
C'est demain la Saint Valentin. Répandre l'amour! <3
