What's the worst that could happen?
"What's the worst that could happen?" Courtney asked me today as I tried to consume my daily dose of dinde et frites. The giant knot in my stomach made even the chocolate banana and yogurt look unappetizing.
"They could all laugh at me?" I answered.
Laugh at me. I would have LOVED for them to laugh at me. What happened next I wouldn't have guessed. There I was, reading my expose with Guillaume. It was like a sauna in the class room. My words were the water and my body was the rocks. I tried to talk as clear as I could, and overall I thought we did a pretty good job - pictures, tranparents, and everything!
What's the worst that could happen?
The worst that could happen is that we did our exposé on all the wrong topics. We pretty much did the opposite of what we were suppossed to do. The worst that could happen is that the prof tells you that you spoke WAY too fast and so they couldn't even understand the wrong information you were trying to convey. The worst that could happen is that instead of doing a "french bibliography" you set it up the way you've been taught, which apparently is the American way and the wrong way. The worst that could happen is that you don't answer any of the questions the students ask and let your partner handle it all because you have no idea what they're asking. You hear words, but they have no meaning and blend together like a melted soft serve twist. The worst that could happen is the prof says that you could have answered questions, possibly if the students asked them in English. Thanks, asshole.
Apparently we were suppossed to just stick to the 2 articles and statistics and talk about them, instead of going on a magical journey for 3 months through stacks of books, trying to elaborate on the articles. Elaboration is bad! And to think, students at the beginning of the semester who just stuck to the articles were scolded for just sticking to the articles. Verbatim, as we would call it. No further research. I say, the French really DO change their minds a lot.
At least the prof said it was apparent that I made an effort (um....yeah! 3 months and 10 pages of info (that i used!) later).
At least I learned a lesson today. I learned that even if you think you did the right thing, it doesn't mean you did. I learned that it's scarier than imaginable to get up in front of a group of foreigners and teach them something ( esp once you find out it's not what you should have said). I learned that even though the French talk fast, it's very very bad to get nervous and then talk fast like them cause they can't even understand you when you speak slow, so fast is just like listening to loud radio static with an attempted French accent.
I've decided that I'm actually thankful for the "exposes" we give in the US, and that if I ever die and go to Hell instead of Heaven, it would be me having to give that exposé over and over again for the rest of eternity.
But hey, at least I learned stuff about the PAC, tractor statistics, rural populations, and other useless stuff that I will probably never use again in my humain life. Maybe if I become some wheat in another life, then I will care how I am harvested and whether it will be by hand or machine, and how those are affected by the government in 1970 France.
"They could all laugh at me?" I answered.
Laugh at me. I would have LOVED for them to laugh at me. What happened next I wouldn't have guessed. There I was, reading my expose with Guillaume. It was like a sauna in the class room. My words were the water and my body was the rocks. I tried to talk as clear as I could, and overall I thought we did a pretty good job - pictures, tranparents, and everything!
What's the worst that could happen?
The worst that could happen is that we did our exposé on all the wrong topics. We pretty much did the opposite of what we were suppossed to do. The worst that could happen is that the prof tells you that you spoke WAY too fast and so they couldn't even understand the wrong information you were trying to convey. The worst that could happen is that instead of doing a "french bibliography" you set it up the way you've been taught, which apparently is the American way and the wrong way. The worst that could happen is that you don't answer any of the questions the students ask and let your partner handle it all because you have no idea what they're asking. You hear words, but they have no meaning and blend together like a melted soft serve twist. The worst that could happen is the prof says that you could have answered questions, possibly if the students asked them in English. Thanks, asshole.
Apparently we were suppossed to just stick to the 2 articles and statistics and talk about them, instead of going on a magical journey for 3 months through stacks of books, trying to elaborate on the articles. Elaboration is bad! And to think, students at the beginning of the semester who just stuck to the articles were scolded for just sticking to the articles. Verbatim, as we would call it. No further research. I say, the French really DO change their minds a lot.
At least the prof said it was apparent that I made an effort (um....yeah! 3 months and 10 pages of info (that i used!) later).
At least I learned a lesson today. I learned that even if you think you did the right thing, it doesn't mean you did. I learned that it's scarier than imaginable to get up in front of a group of foreigners and teach them something ( esp once you find out it's not what you should have said). I learned that even though the French talk fast, it's very very bad to get nervous and then talk fast like them cause they can't even understand you when you speak slow, so fast is just like listening to loud radio static with an attempted French accent.
I've decided that I'm actually thankful for the "exposes" we give in the US, and that if I ever die and go to Hell instead of Heaven, it would be me having to give that exposé over and over again for the rest of eternity.
But hey, at least I learned stuff about the PAC, tractor statistics, rural populations, and other useless stuff that I will probably never use again in my humain life. Maybe if I become some wheat in another life, then I will care how I am harvested and whether it will be by hand or machine, and how those are affected by the government in 1970 France.