Rewrite: Language competence in the classroom.

In light of the comment regarding a recent post, and at the request of a few friends, I took the idea from that post and wrote it in a less convoluted language. I apologize if my writing left some of you cold and I assure you that wasn't my intent.

As a foreign exchange student, I am what Georg Simmel (one of my favourite theorists) would call a stranger. The term stranger has a specific sociological meaning, although it derives from the common sense definition: the stranger "is defined by distance [. . .] neither too close or too far.*" A stranger exists on the boundaries of a social group. If strangers get too close, they become members of the group; if they're too far, they vanish from the group's consciousness.

In my classes, I am not the only foreign exchange student. As a result, the professor speaks in English, the commonly shared language among the students. I revealed myself as someone from a country where English (and French) are the official languages. Some professors are a little self-conscious of their English usage, and explained that since there is a native English speaker in the class, I could act as an expert consultant. This garnered some attention from my classmates - negative or positive, I'm not sure. I tried to analyze and critique this situation because I found myself in a unique position. There are two fundamental observations.

First, employing me as the "expert" is strange because I'm not an expert. Although you can accurately say you can speak one language and not another, what is considered "good" speaking and "bad" speaking is, in my opinion, largely relative. Everyone in my classes speak English and understand one another. Hence, an expert is not needed.

Second, in relation to Simmel's stranger, asking me (jokingly) to be the expert may be an attempt to dissolve the social boundaries between me and the other European students. This is a very courteous and downright sweet gesture and I don't regard that as a problem. I'm wondering if an attempt to include someone implies that person is a stranger, and if that is my case at all.

However, my concern was twofold: do the other students really need me, since language competency is perhaps relative? Doesn't that hinder social mobility (moving from "stranger status" to "being included status") if the outsider's only purpose is to provide advice and consulting? I'm not ready to answer those questions yet. You, gentle reader, are of course welcome to share your thoughts.

I hope that makes more sense. There was another paragraph on ethnocentrism, and if anyone finds it too convoluted then feel free to email me or post a comment.

Ciao!

* Reference
Ritzer, George. Contemporary Sociological Theory and Its Classical Roots: The Basics. New York: McGraw-Hill, 2003. 52.

Ain't nobody's business if I do . . .

It's Friday night.

I'm sitting at my desk, my laptop warm under my palms. Billie Holiday is in my ears and I'm drinking white wine.

And smoking.

Around me Ljubljana glows and hums. A small city, but it pulsates with a hidden energy. There are a thousand, hundreds of thousands, of smiling faces and broken hearts and new loves under the stars tonight. The Ljubljanica gently glides along, passing the bridges and the cafés, disappearing into the night.

So here I am, wondering what the rest of the world is doing. Tell me what you're up to tonight, and the rest of the weekend. You've commented here before? Do it again. A friend living an ocean away? Let's read what you have to say.

Good night, all.

Sometimes we are not always speaking the same language: Linguistic competence in the classroom.

I received a warm welcome to the University of Ljubljana, but being a student from a country that is incredibly far away does illuminate the cultural differences that arise. So far, the main point of contention has been language. I'm generally singled out as a "native speaker," and two profs have jokingly said that I will be used as a reference and an instructor, of sorts. That immediately marks me as a holder of privileged knowledge - the one who knows the correct usage of the language. How students and professors speak in English will be compared to my usage. Granted, I did say I was from Canada on the first day, but does that mean I must be the yardstick used to measure "competence?" I suppose it does. But language competency is relative, no? In terms of dialect, or vocabulary?

Being the outsider (without complaint of course, my position was inevitable) with specialized knowledge could engender my positionality and ideology as ambiguous to others. For example, how do others perceive the outsider (or, Simmel's stranger) whom the group is, in some way, dependent on? Or are they not dependent? Could this dependency be an illusion, to strengthen social bonds in light of the groups' apparent differences?

In a related note, one of my imagined fears is how European students view North American students. Some stereotypes do exist: we are all rich; we are condescending towards others who don't speak English or are not from North America: we are basically ethnocentric. I personally don't feel that I fit this stereotype. But then, my initial denial of being ethnocentric (and my anger at having such a label potentially attached to me) is indicative of the unconscious processes that govern my stance on cross-cultural communication. How could I be ethnocentric if I'm in a European university? is a common rationalization.

Are my fears justified? Probably not. I'm assuming the "other" has an unsophisticated position. However, my assumption does highlight the friction caused by my pretheoritical position on my relationships to other students. This is the foundation for ethnocentrism, and the possible problematizing of this phenomenon.

Do you know what I miss?

Spicy food, that's what I miss. The traditional Slovenian diet consists of heavy carbs derived from its wonderful breads and dumplings, and strong doses of protein from pork, turkey (chicken is not so popular here), veal and beef, known collectively as meso, or meat. Horse is also very popular here too, one can smell roasting horsemeat wafting through the streets on some days. I was surprised by the scent - like barbequed spareribs but sweeter and gamier. As described in our trusty guidebook, Slovenian cuisine is "plain and simple, pretty heavy and pretty meaty.*" Furthermore, Slovenia has imported similar cuisines from other parts of Europe as well, like klobasa (sausages) from Austria, njoki (potatoe dumplings) from Italy and golaž (goulash) from Hungary. Borrowed cuisine is understandable, being situated in central Europe. I'm curious as to how indigenous tastes developed in this region. Vegetables used in spicy condiments don't readily grow here, with the possible exception of horseradish (which could easily be imported from Austria via Germany), hence the lack of heat in local food. Another visit to the Enthnographic Museum is in order.

Andrew was kind enough to bring a small bottle of Sriracha from Vancouver, which was really tasty but now it's almost gone . . . the only hot sauces I can find here are Tabasco (too mild) and Louisiana Gold (slightly hotter than Tabasco, but still not enough heat for my palate) in the supermarkets.

As soon as I get back to Vancouver, I'm going out for Thai.

* Reference
Fallon, Steve. Slovenia. Victoria: Lonely Planet, 2004. 45-6.

Another week of school.

The problem of getting into a routine is how it consumes everything. I'm worried I won't be able to travel anymore now that school has gained momentum!

School has been going well, although there are times when I feel completely lost. Sometimes the reading requirements are not entirely clear; for instance, in one class we have to write a short essay at the end of each class on the assigned readings, but sometimes the essay topics are based on different readings! Did I read the wrong article? Luckily, I always read ahead, so if I guessed correctly I have almost finished the next two weeks of readings. Still, a strange situation.

So far in my classes I've discussed problems queer youth face while growing up, how to reconcile violence faced by political movements (my quick answer: we must make the distinction between violence and self-defence and ask ourselves if self-defence could be called violence), the history of leftist political movements in Europe and now, I'm thinking about my Literary Journalism class: we have to conduct an interview and write a feature story. I have a subject for the interview, a journalist student I met at my home university, but I have yet to find a topic for my feature. I was thinking of writing a piece on Metelkova, a squatted art space with multiple bars inside that has become a popular space for youth. There is an underlining tension between Metelkova and the city of Ljubljana: since Metelkova is a squat and attracts "rowdy" youth, city authorities have threatened to tear down the buildings multiple times. The locals protested, and the city backed off. Apparently, this has happened a few times. Why the cycle? What are the socio-political subtexts at work here? Now I'm getting all excited about this project.

I think I'll pitch the article first and see where it takes me rather than blindly post it in the internet.

Lisa discovered Club.UK, a resource center at the British Council here in Ljubljana. For a fee we can take out books in English, magazines and board games. They also host events now and then. Since I'm considering working on my Ph.D. in England (Cambridge, most likely) I will have to check it out. Also, paperbacks in English are very expensive in Slovenia - taking out books from the Britsh Council library will relieve the wallet. This is awesome.

Jean Baudrillard, we only we just met.

Hm. I hate to start conversations like this, but the other day I was on a ferry going along the Croatian coast and saying that Baudrillard was the last "old school" theorist still standing.

Then he dies today.

Kurants in Ptuj, Slovenia.

Footage shot by Lisa.

After overcoming some technical problems, we can now give you all a taste of the carnival parade held in Ptuj, Slovenia. This was truly chaotic and energetic.