Wednesday, May 6, 2009

podcasts are up.  see links on right.  comments welcome.

Tuesday, May 5, 2009

dilatory

I meant to do this one as a podcast, but I couldn't get Audacity to work, so the podcasts will have to come later.

Talk about dilatory! How about the Channel Tunnel that runs from England to France under La Manche (the English Channel)? That was a project with quite a few dilatory events.

Concieved in 1802, the Chunnel (for short) wasn't open for business until 1994! Of course in 1802 the dilatory problem was the lack of technology. Horse-drawn carts weren't quite efficient and powerful enough to plow through dirt and stone that had been packed down by the English Channel for a million years or so.

When the technology did come along, both sides of the river were worried about their own national security; after all, the French and the English haven't always been friends. Then when they decided they did want to be friends and make it easy to pay visits to the neighbors, they ran out of dough. A large portion of the construction was funded by private, small-time investors who have never gotten their money back. Finally in 1994, there was a big ceremony attended by the Queen and the Chunnel was open for business. These days, it's easy to take it for granted because if you take the Eurorail, you won't even have any way to know you're under the sea.

Thursday, April 23, 2009

biannual

Warning: This entry is rated PG.


Biannual makes me think of Victoria's Secret semi-annual sale, which reminds me of Intimissimi in Venice, Italy.


I arrived in Venice with every intention of seeing the history, museums, cathedrals, and general culture of this famous little island, but when I strolled down the narrow pathways between boutiques, I saw a few cafés and many, many modern clothing and accessory shops. That's when I saw it. Glowing with bright, white light and speckled with beautiful little garments--some in rainbow colors, some shiny like silver and gold, all delicate and perfectly detailed--was Intimissimi.


It was the most amazing undergarment store I've ever seen.


Now everyone wears undergarments, so don't misunderstand me. This wasn't just lingerie, no this was everything you would ever want to make your clothes fit better, hide those annoying undie lines, tuck what needs tucked, lift what needs lifted, smooth what needs smoothed, and avoid the pinching, chaffing, and wrinkling of cheap imitations. What was so remarkable is that all of these perfectly functional and some quite sturdy garments were still so pretty!


Of course they had some things that were not quite so functional and sturdy, too. Hey, it's Italy!


I've been waiting for an Intimissimi to open up in Northwest Arkansas ever since, but I won't hold my breath. At least we've got Victoria's Secret biannual sale!

Thursday, April 9, 2009

diaphanous


Main Entry: di·aph·a·nous
Pronunciation: \dī-ˈa-fə-nəs\
Function: adjective
Etymology: Medieval Latin diaphanus, from Greek diaphanēs, from diaphainein to show through, from dia- + phainein to show

Date: 1614
1 : characterized by such fineness of texture as to permit seeing through 2 : characterized by extreme delicacy of form : ethereal 3 : insubstantial , vague
— di·aph·a·nous·ly adverb
— di·aph·a·nous·ness noun



I'm applying "diaphanous" to the French controversy about whether or not Muslim girls could wear veils in public schools.




The controversy is no surprise to those who are familiar with French culture and history. France has had their policy of Laïcité (secularism) for a while.


"The founding text of French secularism is the Act of 9 December 1905, which established the separation of the State from religion. For 60 years, the French Constitution has reflected the principle of secularism. The 1958 Constitution reaffirms this principle: 'France shall be an indivisible, secular and social Republic. It shall ensure the equality of all citizens before the law, without distinction of origin, race or religion. It shall respect all beliefs.' (Article 1)"


So is France respecting 'all beliefs' by forbidding students to wear their diaphanous head garments?


Muslims in France who wished their daughters to cover their heads at school had only a diaphanous hope of succeeding. The French law of secularism dictates that any sign of religious affiliation shall not be expressed at school. Period.


However, if head scarves suddenly became the style and women of all religions started wearing them just to be cool, public policy wouldn't forbid it. Maybe that's the solution! Let Muslim girls wear flowerdy, purple, or metallic head scarves and tie them in funky ways so that Christian, Jewish, and Athiest girls will want to wear them too! They can all be beautifully diaphanous so they'll flow behind their heads as lovely girls of all creeds stylishly float from class to class!







Thursday, March 26, 2009

Acedia

Acedia = apathy or boredom

This will be a pretty biased entry, but that's what blogs are for.

The French and the Americans accuse each other of acedia regarding different things.













The French often are disgusted by Americans' acedia about foreign affairs. We have a reputation of pushing our military weight around when it suits us and ignoring countries that desperately need our help. I was in France in 2003 and I had to explain to many, many people that, no, I didn't think the U.S. should have invaded Iraq, that yes, I did think our president was a pushy moron, and that yah, it probably would have been better to spend all of that military money stopping the tribal genocide in Africa and feeding starving children. I tried my best to show that not all Americans were apathetic about the rest of the world, but my French acquaintances still used me as a focal point for their frustrations toward the West. Their argument was that if Americans could get off their couch-potato bottoms, shed some of their acedia, and challenge the president, then maybe we could enact change. I didn't have an answer for them there.

So how do Americans accuse the French of acedia with all of their strikes, rallies, social unrest, and heated debates? Religion. When I started to look for a church to attend in Pau in 2003, I was surprised at how far I had to walk from my host home to find a protestant church. In NW Arkansas, there's just about one on every corner. I was also surprised at the selection. My options as a Christian were to attend the Catholic church or the one Protestant church. Baptist? Methodist? Pentacostal? According to Pau, France, they are all just Protestant. Once I got inside, I was surprised again to find that the one Protestant church in town was not even full on Sunday mornings, and they only had one service! What, I wondered, could have driven this country, with all of its beautiful cathedrals, hundreds of relics, and a strong history of evangelism, what could have driven them away from their religious heritage? The more I studied history, the more I learned about the religious wars where people murdered one another for minor doctrinal differences, about the Crusades where "Christian knights" killed people in their own countries if they didn't convert, and then about "la laïcité" which forbids public school students to show outward signs of their religion, and in effect, even forbids them to talk or write about their religion in school. In trying to solve one problem, the French went to the other extreme. This page gives more (also biased) specifics: "(A) poll indicated that only 10 percent of the French population attends church regularly and of the 51 percent who call themselves Catholics, only half said they believed in God. Those that don’t believe in God said they called themselves Catholic because it was a family tradition."

We all have acedia about something. When is it good? When is it bad? I welcome your comments.

Wednesday, March 25, 2009

Purfle

I took a costume design class a few years back where we had to design fancy 18th century clothing for bourgeois English characters. In England, it was fashionable at this time to follow french style, so I had the opportunity to copy/reinvent some 18th century French costumes. Many of my renderings had gold brocade purfling the skirt hems.


Why did English bourgeois look to the French for fashion inspiration? Throughout history, the nations of Europe were more or less equally stylish until French fashion began to spring ahead of the English during the 17th century when England was understandably preoccupied with mass plagues and fires. This was also the time of the French Sun King Louis XIV whose clothing was lavishly embellished from head to toe. In the photo to the left, you'll note that his collar is purfled with an elaborate gold rope, his hands are purfled with copious lace, and even the velvet rug hanging in the background is purfled with gold brocade and huge tassels.

Early in the 18th century, Louis XV's mistress, Madame Pompidou (below), was quite the trend-setter. She would purfle her neckline with lace and purfle her hems with flowers.














So you see, the French may or may not have been the original purflers, but they certainly perfected the art of purfling!

For more on France's influence on fashion, click here.



Thursday, March 5, 2009

Whipsaw

Quebec

Some quick Wikifacts:

"Nationalism plays a large role in the politics of Quebec, and all three major provincial political parties have sought greater autonomy for Quebec and recognition of its unique status. Sovereigntist governments have held referendums on independence in 1980 and 1995. In 2006, the Canadian House of Commons passed a symbolic motion recognizing the "Québécois as a nation within a united Canada."

"The Province of Quebec was founded in the Royal Proclamation of 1763 after the Treaty of Paris formally transferred the French colony of Canada[16] to Britain after the Seven Years' War."

When I worked at Walmart as technical support (using the term loosely) to French-speaking provinces in Canada, it became clear to me that the province of Quebec has a "whipsaw" kind of identity. The Quebecois are clearly Canadian (hehe) because of their geographic location, but their cultural identity is French because that's the language and culture their ancestors brought with them when they settled there near the banks of the Saint Lawrence River.

So are they Canadian? That depends on who you ask. According to Mike at the Walmart CA Home Office, "They should just speak English because this is Canada!" It turns out a lot of Canadians think it's silly that they need an interpreter for business relations within their own country.

Are they French? Well...when I met some Quebecois while in France, they didn't sound French to me, and the French people kind of mocked them (which wasn't very nice). France seems a popular place for Quebecois to visit, but it seems that the French have little interest in returning the sentiments.

(Forgive the generalizations. I'm sure there are many exceptions.)

So, I think Quebec is a cultural whipsaw. They want to be French. They are Canadian. What is their cultural identity?

Wednesday, February 18, 2009

Mot du jour: girandole


The
g
i
r
a
n
d
o
l
e
is actually quite relevant to French culture in terms of art.

"Art Nouveau" was a movement that started in France and other European countries and peaked from around 1890-1905. It largely featured the girandole. One of the most recognizable examples of girandole found in Art Nouveau is the Tiffany lamp invented in NY by Louis Comfort Tiffany. Tiffany lamps are girandole-shaped if you look at the lamp shade from the top. Some other artists of this movement include French-born Swissman Theophile Steinlen who created the quite famous "Chat Noir" poster (shown above on the left) which features a girandole crowning the cat's head like a halo. Another example of the girandole can be found in the Grand Palais in Paris, created by four main architects in the style of Art Nouveau. The photo above on the right is a girandole-shaped dome from the interior of the Grand Palais. Overall, the artists of Art Nouveau strived to put high art to practical use. That's why Art Nouveau didn't stop at paintings and architecture, but expanded to posters, lamps, and even cigarette cases.

*The facts and photos in this entry about Art Nouveau were taken from Wikipedia. The spin on the girandole is from me.

Thursday, February 12, 2009

Reconcile

I studied abroad as an undergrad, like many of you, and there were plenty of ways that I was culture-shocked, but here's one event that has stuck with me through the years.

I barely knew any French when I arrived in Pau--a Fayetteville-sized city by the Pyrenees Mountains--despite my 2.5 years of language education in the states. I couldn't communicate with anyone. Even my host family scared me because they didn't smile and they talked very quickly in French (of course). Phone time at my host home was a rarety since the one line was shared with two young women, a live-in boyfriend, and the mother, so I had to walk to the local grocery store to use the pay phone to call my family.

The third time I did this, a young man standing nearby waited until I hung up and said something to me I didn't understand. I thought he needed to use the phone, so I said "I'm done. Uh, je suis fini."
"Non, non" he said. "Chuboin café?"
Finally a word I recognized. "Café?" I replied. "Ou?"
" bas." and he pointed across the street.
I didn't understand what he said, but I understood pointing and a friendly offer. He was the first person to reach out to me since I'd arrived and I was greatful, even if I wasn't being very safe.
Our first conversation was difficult. All I could figure out is that "café" was more like espresso, but it was served with chocolate which made it tolerable. The mysterious stranger didn't speak a word of English, and I only knew a few words in French, but I couldn't understand his French because he spoke just as quickly as my host mother. When it was clear that sentences were impossible, we resorted to single words, or pairs of words.
I eked out, "Je. M'appelle. Melissa"
And he copied me, "J'm'a pelle Faysal."
My turn: "Je. Suis. Americaine."
His turn: "Jviendmorrok."
I had no idea what that meant.
We exchanged phone numbers and arranged to meet again. An actual friendly French conversation partner? No way would I let this opportunity slide!
I was so excited to have made a friend that I immediately told my host mother and sister. Their reaction was odd.
"His name is Faysal? That doesn't sound French."
"Well, he's French," was my witty reply. After all, he lived in France and spoke French. I assumed.

To make a long story a little shorter, Faysal turned out to be from Morocco. He was the only person I knew besides my language teacher at the University of Pau who would speak French to me without getting frustrated. Even my host family would constantly speak English to me because it was easier for us all. Faysal and I had coffee " bas" every week, and every week we found out a little more about each other's lives as my language skills improved. (And every week I beat him at pool. French pool tables are much smaller than American ones.)

Faysal and my host family never met each other.

My birthday fell at the end of the semester just before I was to return home to the U.S. I wanted to have a party at my host's house and invite about 10 people over for dinner. The mother was fine with the party and the dinner, but she asked me "Are you going to invite your Moroccan friend?"
"I was going to."
"Well don't, he'll steal something."
I looked for humor in her eyes, but she was completely serious. I was absolutely shocked. Here was a perfectly normal French woman showing blatant racism in what I thought was one of the most progressive-thinking nations in the world. After all, France is part of the European Union. The EU was supposed to be progressive, tolerant, and above all RECONCILED. This was worse than hearing an old man back in Arkansas grumble about how he thinks Mexican immigrants are stealing jobs from "real Americans," because I knew that there was racism in Arkansas. Europe, I thought, was the epitome of racial tolerance. Of course I've learned since then that this isn't true. Countries are made up of people. People like the status quo. Many people only like people who look, talk, and act like themselves. France and the U.S. were more alike than I would have liked.

When I talked to Faysal about what my host mother said, he was disappointed but not surprised. I apologized to him many times for the situation, but I couldn't get over the feeling that my experience abroad had been stained--like a favorite shirt I could never get clean again but would wear anyway.

My host mother ended up changing her mind after all. She told me I could invite Faysal to the dinner, but to be careful. I didn't invite him. Faysal and I had a separate birthday party. He took me to a new, giant bowling place and gave me flowers. We had a great time, which was made even better by our now fully developed conversations in French.

I don't know why I didn't try harder, or earlier, to reconcile my friend to my host family. I don't know why I didn't invite Faysal when I took trips with the other language students. It's like I had four different lives while I was there: one when I was with my host family, one when I was with my classmates, one when I was with Faysal, and one when I was alone wandering the streets of Pau and trying not to stick out like a sore thumb. It was easier not to bring them all together. It was easier to segregate the parts of myself and the people I spent time with. I could have been a tool to help reconcile a racist French family to a kind, generous immigrant, or reconcile my Moroccan friend to my classmates from around the world so that every one's tolerances would have been expanded just a little bit. But I didn't. I didn't reconcile them and I lost that chance at that moment to make a difference in that way.

Sometimes I try to reconcile Faysal to the world now. On the rare occasion that someone asks me about my experience studying abroad, I try to talk about Faysal and the kindness and patience he showed me and the intolerance and bigotry he faced. Because it wasn't just him. France is a nation that faces the issues brought on by the clashing of proud tradition and immigration, just like the U.S., just like Africa, just like Australia, and hundreds of others. All we can do is try to be tools for reconciliation when we are faced with that opportunity.

Tuesday, February 3, 2009

Bonjour!

Hello fellow followers of Dr. Jones' Internet and Technology class! That was some storm, huh? It's nice to get back to our regular schedules, isn't it?

I don't have a lot of knowledge to contribute here on the outset of our information journey, so I look forward to learning from this class. I have a few blogs and I use Wikipedia, but that's the extent of my Web 2.0 knowledge. Feel free to share your knowledge and opinions with me.

Things I've learned so far
--------------------------
What Web 2.0 is
That Wiki is a type of information-sharing system and not just a shortened term for Wikipedia
That all this technology stuff can be used not just in class, but outside of class to suppliment
That students can contribute to a class blog/wiki/etc too and will learn more if they do
That dissertations are really long and people give you dirty looks if you print them in the main lab

Question: How are we going to make up for the lost 2.5 hours of class?