Kaleidoscope

Archive for junio 2006

Parfois je me demande si je vais vraiment m’installer quelque part dans ma vie.

J’ai réalisé récemment que cette année est ma 10eme au Canada, et cela veut dire aussi que c’est dans ce pays que j’ai vécu le plus longtemps d’à filé… Oui, je dis toujours que j’ai “grandit en France”, mais dans le fond je n’ai vécu que 9 ans dans la jolie petite maison du Sud-Ouest!

Je ne sais pas si c’est vraiment important d’avoir un sentiment d’appartenance, si ça fait vraiment partie de la personalité, mais dans mon cas je me suis souvent sentie soit fière de mon histoire de polyglotte-globbetrotter, soit déstabilisée. Je pense que j’ai besoin de prendre racines quelque part, je ne sais où. J’espère que Strasbourg sera cette place, mais j’en ai aucune idée. Ce qui est sûr pour l’instant est que je ne me sent pas à l’aise ici, à moins d’être dans une métropole au Canada, les autres villes sont considérées “petites”. Même si dans la ville où nous vivons actuellement vivent 120 000 habitants, on s’y sent comme dans un trop grand village, les seules activités sont le cinéma, louer des films, ou aller dépenser son argent au centre d’achat 😦

Pourtant, ce qui me dérange le plus n’est pas que je m’ennuie (en fait, si, un peu) parce-que je m’occupe (à travailler beaucoup, jouer du piano, aller me promener au bord du lac ou à Niagara-Falls, ou passer une trop rare journée pour me ressourcer à Toronto), mais c’est parce que je suis continuellement frustrée du non respect pour les cyclistes ou les piétons. Les routes et les rues ne sont pas amménagées pour autre chose que les voitures! Souvent, en allant jusqu’à l’école de musique, je marche sur le trottoir qui disparaît tout à coup (c’est pas de la magie, c’est juste qu’ils l’ont pas contruit jusqu’à la fin)… dans une rue résidentielle! Et ça c’est dans les cas où il y a effectivement un trottoir, pour aller au bureau (j’y vais à vélo) là il n’y en a quarément pas du tout: ni de trottoir, ni assez d’espace pour le vélo. Alors je roule en plein milieu de la chaussé, voilà! Gniarc, gniarc!

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Ces temps-ci, je rêve à notre prochain appartement (j’ai trouvé le très joli site web d’une agence immobilière, qui montre non seulement des photos des appart à louer, mais des plans aussi!). J’espère qu’à Strasbourg on pourra trouver un appart à prix abordable avec un balcon (pour nos plantes), et qu’ils auront pensé à un local pour vélos. Je sais qu’en Allemagne c’est très courant, et d’après ce que j’ai lu Strasbourg et “germanisé” de ce côté là (je ne sais pas si les alsaciens sont offencés si on leur dit qu’ils sont des français germanisés? On sait jamais ce genre de truc…)

Quand je disais tout ça à D, il m’a répondu: “mais pourquoi tu veux savoir?”
“J’sais pas moi… pour savoir!”
“Et c’est important ça?”
Dans le fond, j’en suis pas si sûre… Pourtant ça me trotte toujours dans la tête, mais je sais pas pourquoi.

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This year I’m really proud of my music students: the ones who were doing a Royal Conservatory Examination (RCM exam) all had more than 80%!!

Even the young Grade 1 Piano student, who was doing her first exam, had an 81%! (which is considered “high honours” by their standards).

I am still waiting for the result of my Grade 3 Voice student who was so nervous that she (apparently) started crying when she was unsure how to answer a question… I hope that this happened at the end of the examination and that the jury was nice!

It makes me proud to see good results after such hard work. The parents tell me, “it’s because they have a good teacher”, which is always nice to hear. However most of the good job is the responsability of the students who must practice and study regularly (every day when possible).

Teaching is so much fun. I love, love, love teaching. Not only I get the chance to give, but I also learn (receive) from the students who all understand different things in different ways. It forces me to clarify my mind, and often to understand better my own knowledge: many times I know something without thinking, but to explain it I also need to understand.

The time had come, once more, to go visit the Consulate of France in Toronto. They had sent me an email to inform that I had 3 months to go pick up my National Identity card (carte nationale d’identité), otherwise it would be distroyed (they don’t want to send it via snail mail: not trusworthy!). Since I had to ask for a day off anyway, D and I figured we might as well visit the Consulate of Italy for him: he needs to renew his Italian passport in case we go to Europe one day soon

D and I browsed through internet to see which documents he needed to present at the consulate. Unfortunatly, the website we found was out of service, down, not working. So, D tried to phone them to ask his questions. After 3 tries ringing in the empty space, he finally got someone to answer.
“I need to renew my passport, what do I need to bring? Do I have to take an appointment?”
“No need to take an appointment, just show up during our public hours with your old italian passport and a proof of your canadian citizenship” (uh?). Ok.

Early Tuesday morning we woke up, the bus we took, and a little before 10 o’clock in the morning we were walking in the street of the big city. Not much to tell about my visit in French soil (aka the Consulate of France, at the 22nd floor of a nice modern building), the french bureaucracy is complicated, but at least the job gets done.

Now we had to take the subway, we hurried a little because we were approaching 11 o’clock and the only information we had from the Italian Consulate is that they are open from 9 to 12 mornings only. The consulate is an old building in Chinatown. Nothing against the Asians or Italians, but let’s only say that it’s contrasting. Or maybe not, if we get to talk about chaos…

First, when we arrive at the front door, there was a line… (reminded me of Argentina)
Sono chiusi?” (is it closed?) we asked.
No, si entra solo uno a la volta” (no, we only enter one at a time).
There was a security man searching every each person as we entered, like in airports. I understand that Italy is part of the European Union, that a consulate is a official building, etc. , but why was there no checking before entering the Consulat de France? Anyway, after about 10 minutes (or 20?) of waiting in line, we finally get speak to the lady at the front desk (in Italian since she doesn’t speak English), who after asking D why he was here, said “did you bring your pictures?”…

There were at least two dozen people waiting like us. We were all sitting in a large room with no air conditioning, nobody knew for how long. After at least two hours a voice started calling names… I could see many confused faces that seemed to be wondering where to go (there were many doors to choose from).

At least, the World Cup was on a big screen TV (how could italians not watch soccer, il calcio!?) and I got the chance to watch the match Costa-Rica vs. Poland. 🙂

After much waiting, at least seeing someone, but having almost nothing done… We finally got time for acting like tourists!!

The weather was fabulous, in fact just ideal to go up the CN Tower (D had never been there before).

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The entrance ticket were overpriced, but oh well, the view of the lake Ontario was nice, and all Toronto was at our feet!

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De todo un poco

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