October 31, 2009
October 30, 2009
Touching intimate parts: the implications of early modern German men-midwives touching their patients
What motivates rugby players to continue competing
The role of headphones in the sonic constitution and social negotiation of space
Indigenous perspectives on teaching yoga
You are here: in pursuit of a literature of the Canadian mall
Important factors in the desert fathers’ withdrawal to the desert
Eight hours drive from anywhere: a geographic occupational study of clasical musicians in Thunder Bay, Ontario
Female romantic jealousy and extra-pair desire across the menstrual cycle
Creating community in medieval Aragon
Meanings of masculinity in the Fort Simpson fur trade, 1834-1887
Bad sex objects
A deleuzian ontology of Christ
*Each got $17,500 from SSHRC in 08-09. If they won, then surely this will:
Press here: Indigenous fathers’ geographic occupational perspectices on what motivates struggling writers from medieval Aragon and present day Fort Simpson to withdraw and touch themselves across the menstrual cycle in a negotiation of space, masculinity, and ontology.
October 29, 2009
October 28, 2009
October 24, 2009
October 22, 2009
Mary: Salut, Oriane! How was the art institute? Did you find any classes? I hope you are well. Best, mary.
Oriane: Buenas tarde. Me parece que la clase de arte sera muy interesante pero, para la gente exterior, deberia ouvrir una classe pero no es muy seguro. Te deciria mas cuando se encontramos. Que tal con este nuevo trabajo y la langua maroquis? Hasta pronto. Oriane.
Mary: Gracias por el mensaje! Quieres venir a la casa manana y tomar un te? Yo se que es tarde, pero podemos encontramos en frente de l’institut francais a las 10 por la noche.
Oriane: It would be pleasur, but in this time I live in Martile. 10pm will be difficult after with taxi but we can it something for the lunch if you have some time.
Mary: Ah, je vois! Veux-tu manger avec nous a 1 heure, a la restaurant la union? Si non, nous pouvons rencontrer a l’institut francais a 2 heures, avant de ma classe a 3.
Oriane: Merci. Je ne sais pas encore comment les choses s’organisent-Je te dis vers 12H.
Mary: Bueno :)
The next day
Oriane: OK-Pour 2H-A l’institut de langue? Ou l’institut francais?
Mary: De francais. see you at 2!
Mary: 2.15 svp!
The next day
Mary: Hey oriane, quieres ver una pelicula al instituto cervantes esta tarde a las 5? Se llama los ladrones. Cleo puede venir tambien, peut-etre.
Oriane: Muchas gracias pero estoy trabajando para la exposicion en la medina. Cleo tambien. El vernisage sera manana en 4H. Bienvenida. Buena pelicula.
Oriane: Demain, vers midi? Dans le jardin de l’institut francais?
Mary: C’est possible a 10? Si non, a 3.30? la chose est que je dois faire quelque chose a midi.
Oriane: Alors peut etre apres demain? C’est possible pour toi?
Mary: Oui, d’accord. Mercredi, entonces. Sabes tu horario?
Oriane: J’ai juste en cour de 10 a 12 – on peut se retrouver avant pour petit dej ou apres.
Mary: Hmm…como es 1-3 manana? Je vais manger dej avec une amie, mais apres ca marche.
Oriane: Ouja. Mzien bzef.
The next day, in the evening
Oriane: Bonsoir. Eric, n’etait pas a l’exposition. Je peux tout de meme venir te chercher demain.-Dis moi-Bises.
Mary: Je voudrais tout la meme. A quelle heure veux-tu meet ici? Et merci!
Oriane: Ok. Vers 9H 45.
Mary: Parfait, see you then.
October 20, 2009
I believe the world's economies reduce to five gas stations.First there is the Japanese gas station. Gas is $5 a gallon. Four men in uniforms and white gloves, with lifetime employment contracts, wait on you. They pump your gas. They change your oil. They wash your windows, and they wave at you was a friendly smile as you drive away in peace.Second is the American gas station. Gas costs only $1 a gallon, but you pump it yourself. You wash your own windows. You fill your own tires. And when you drive around the corner four homeless people try to steal you hubcaps.Third is the Western European gas station. Gas there also costs $5 a gallon. There is only one man on duty. He grudgingly pumps your gas and unsmilingly changes your oil, reminding you all the time that his union contract says he only has to pump gas and change oil. He doesn't do windows. He works only thirty-five hours a week, with ninety minutes off each day for lunch, during which time the gas station is closed. He also has six weeks' vacation every summer in the south of France. Across the street, his two brother and uncle, who have not worked in ten years because their state unemployment insurance pays more than their last job, and playing boccie ball.Fourth is the developing-country gas station. Fifteen people work there and they are all cousins. When you drive in, no one pays any attention to you because they are all too busy talking to each other. Gas is only 35 cents a gallon because it is subsidized by the government, but only one of the six gas pumps actually works. The others are broken are they are waiting for the replacement parts to be flown in from Europe. The gas station is rather run-down because the absentee owner lives in Zurich and takes all the profits out of the country. The owner doesn't know that half the employees actually sleep in the repair shop at night and use the car wash equipment to shower. Most of the customers at the developing-country gas station either drive the latest-model Mercedes or a motor scooter--nothing in between. The place is always busy, though, because so many people stop in to use the air pump to fill their bicycle tires.Lastly there is the communist gas station. Gas there is only 50 cents a gallon--but there is none, because the four guys working there have sold it all on the black market for $5 a gallon. Just one of the four guys who is employed at the communist gas station is actually there. The other three are working at second jobs in the underground economy and only come around once a week to collect their paychecks.What is going on in the world today, in the very broadest sense, is that though the process of globalization everyone is being forced toward America's gas station. If you are not American and don't know how to pump your own gas, I suggest you learn.
October 17, 2009
In a UN discussion of the Organic Act introduced in Tanganyika prior to independence, the English-to-Russian translator, the daughter of Russian émigré parents, fluent in Russian but educated outside of Russia, translated the law as Organicheskiy Akt--literally a correct translation but a phrase that in modern Russian also means "sexual intercourse." Perhaps primly unaware of this generally accepted meaning, she captured her audience's undivided attention. She continued to develop, in Russian, the ramifications, modifications, and positions taken on this Organicheskiy Akt. The fascinated Russian delegates first chortled, then laughed outright, even exchanging waves with the Ukrainian, BYelorussian, Bulgarian, Polish, Czech, and Yugoslavian delegates of the Slavic fringe who, delegation by delegation, joined in solid Pan-Slavic hilarity. The final clincher was a question to the English delegate from a non-Russian speaking delegate: "What do the natives think of the Organic Act?" The reply, which brought down the Slavic side of the house, was: "In general, they maintain a passive attitude."
--From Native Tongues, by Charles Berlitz.
October 16, 2009
October 15, 2009
The Frenchwoman couldn't pronounce the throaty "ha" and her frustration spilled over and spread onto us. The class felt too long. The letters blurred together. We frowned and furrowed our eyebrows. We complained to Wafa that we needed more time to practice the sounds. In the worst moments, though, my secret companion would step forward. Turkish to the rescue. Wafa would unknowingly use an Arabic word that I knew from Turkish and it was like a friend's hand on the shoulder. I started a list.
dars (lesson) ders (lesson)
dar (house) daire (apartment)
resim (picture) resim (picture)
maktab (desk) mektup (letter)
balad (country) belediye (municipality)
daqiqa (minute) dakika (minute)
kalam (pen) kalem (pen)
jumla (sentence) cumle (sentence)
sabah (morning) sabah (morning)
kitab (book) kitap (book)
October 14, 2009
October 13, 2009
October 10, 2009
Yeah, Mom, I know. But to be fair, Fatima only comes once a week, and it's not like she's making my bed. She just does the laundry. And the floors. And if my bed happens to be un-made when she comes...just kidding. Plus, she forces me to speak French. Know how to say underwear in French? "Culottes."
October 8, 2009
October 7, 2009
October 5, 2009
Northern Morocco is a riot of language.
People assume I am Spanish, so if they can, they ask me lo que quiero. The fruit-seller at the souk: Manzanas diez dirhams, la granada tres dirhams. The waitors: Un sanduche de queso y un batido mixto, si? Agua con gas o sin gas?
This was a pleasant surprise, because it means I can navigate the city without feeling completely lost. Not everyone speaks Spanish, though. It seems to be limited to tourism-related folks, which makes sense, since they serve the Spaniards who come across the water on holiday.
When people shake their heads at Spanish, they usually offer French. The woman charging my phone card: Combien est-ce que vous voulez? The landlord’s wife: Si vous voudrez quelque chose… French is taught in school, so only the uneducated don’t speak it.
Of course, with each other, Moroccans usually speak Darija (unless they are Berber, but let’s hold off on that). They might greet each other with Ca va? but Lebes? is more common. They can switch between Darija and French in the same sentence, and I understand there are a lot of loanwards in Darija itself.
I need to learn French (again)
And Spanish (more)
And if I want to be like the cool kids:
And if I want to read and write:
October 4, 2009
October 3, 2009
October 2, 2009
Morocco is much more relaxed than I expected. In the airport at Casablanca, I looked at clothing and found short-sleeves, knee-length skirts, and leggings. This is nothing like Saudi Arabia. The sticker at the passport control booth told me to smile, so I did.
The next day, biking along the Pacfic, I saw the same variety of clothing. I also saw couples holding hands, girls laughing, and crowds of boys jumping in the water and too busy to bother their female counterparts. All these signs point to societal health.
Smile, you’re in Morocco!