Café Culture

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Titirangi Village popular rendez- vous.

I do enjoy a good cappuccino. Sometimes it gets served up as a work of art: fern design, interconnecting hearts, triangular architectural design, musical notes, semi circle, wiggles or sometimes a basic sprinkle as shown in this picture. 

Today was pretty cool. I ordered a coffee, sharing a convivial moment with a good friend, and the cappuccino arrived with two interconnecting hearts. WAY COOL! Aw! 

Nothing like finding a spot of sun, a hit of caffeine and let the good times roll.

At first I deliberated whether to break the regularity and consistency of ordering the same thing. A latté seemed like an interesting choice, especially as it promised a double shot. But the cappuccino won. I'm so glad.

I have a delightful habit of frequenting the Hardware café most Friday mornings. It is a cool little end-of-week treat. The ambience is usually uplifting, the regulars always cracking jokes and smiles all round. 

I hope to perpetuate this social habit of frequenting cafés whilst in France. However, I'm told that cappuccinos are NOT the order of the day. I hope I can adjust with minimum disruption to my taste buds. I hope to be able to pass the time, observing social interactions, la mode, comings and goings, making notes in my journal, drawing artistic creations on my i pad and making new, interesting friends. 

I wonder if they serve their café with an artistic flair in France. Two and a bit weeks to go. All will be revealed in good time.

Opportunity Knocks

Opportunity Knocks

My brain went into recession when I was a hairdresser. I didn't see it coming, nor did I see it happening to me. That is the way of things. It is only with the astounding accuracy, beauty and profundity of hindsight that I am able to say confidently that I have got my brain back again. Fortunately, at the moment, it is in tip top working order, or at least, that's what I like to believe. 

My brain likes french. It sometimes goes into automatic pilot. Sometimes, I can be thinking about something else, and I find that I have just spoken one or two sentences that are somewhat accurate and perform the task of intelligent communication! Unfortunately, most of the time, I have to labour over searching the dusty files for vocabulary, grammatical rules and manoevering my lips, tongue and nasal sounds to collectively unify into a comprehensible utterance. Once upon a time, I could speak fluent french. I was 18 at the time. A wonderful feeling....... youth, complacent confidence, and of course speaking another beautiful language.

Anyway, the point of this post, is to point out, everything else aside, (brain exercise), I have noticed that learning french has opened many doors for me. I have made some COOL friends, found professional and personal opportunities and indulged in some very interesting past times. I think I am becoming a francophile. Is this a bad thing? I don't want to be stereotyped/labelled or cubby-holed! I might not be interested in rugby, soccer or fishing, but french has taken places that I really enjoy going!

To get the most out of life, I think that it is important to get out there, DO WHAT YOU LOVE, and answer when opportunity knocks!

Fantastic Dualingua

On our wall in the staffroom at school.

I have been making my way through a fabulous free app. It's called Dualingua.

I am so happy to be learning french where I can literally track my progress. It allows me to make tiny mistakes, or if I make a big faux pas, it shows a picture of a broken heart. I can do this 4 times within one lesson. I believe that I am only allowed 3 broken hearts as I progress further on. All the grammatical errors that I make when conversing in french are now literally n front of my eyes so that I can self correct. I love it. I can feel my confidence building.

I get a daily e mail encouraging me. Mon Dieu,fantastique!

Teachers are learners at heart. Wrong. We are all learners at heart. Go on. Give Dualingua a try. It is such FUN!

Voilà

Such a cute little primitive picture that I scribbled. So pathetic, that it is almost endearing. I am so grateful to my four legged friend for making me walk in all kinds of weather. 

Looking out of the classroom window to the distant drowning astro turf: on the one hand somewhat dismal; on the other hand I am dry and snug. The fact that I share the same "salle de classe" with 31 boisterous souls is a little ......., well ..... you fill in the blank. 

I'm loving the view from the summit of Three Kings. It's a wonderful exercise area for dogs off lead. Sky Tower looks so distant and if you really try hard you can see Rangitoto, a majestic Auckland icon.

Mufti day at school today. What a cool T shirt, nest-ce pas?

Such a cool expression.  Pronounced: VWA-LAH. The cursive expressive handwriting embraces the character of the word, nest-ce pas?

Aotearoa Nouvelle Zélande

These gorgeous photos of moody Kapiti are taken whilst on a weekend away earlier this year.  Oh the rustic charm!

Whilst Kev and I spent the weekend together visiting his folks, we enjoyed the cafes, art and the beach. 

I love how after having a coffee, blood spins through my brain at an alarming rate; ideas spilling over with creativity. I know that the artists during the Picasso, Monet, Van Gogh era, congregated in the cafes of Paris. They would drink coffee and share ideas. Great french philosophers would also gather in Parisian cafes to discuss theories and share ideas. I doubt if my great ideas would be at the same level as the french GREATS, however, it would be cool to spin tales and converse with french locals in Gap. My fluency in the language of lyrical beauty would definitely improve, n'est-ce pas?

Knowing that time is limited before my departure, it fills me with gratitude for this beautiful land of the long white cloud, my friends and family. 

P.I.N.K.

My mother. My inspiration!

" La Vie en Rose"           Life in Pink   

On so many levels, the interpretation of this phrase is divine! 

le countdown

Bonjour. 

"I wonder ......."

So it's 4 weeks to go and le countdown heats up. Saturday. Haircut. Last one before I go to France. I wonder what it is like going to the hairdresser in France. Will I be only able to communicate in French? My communication skills will be put to the test.

I made an appointment to have my hair cut at Rodney Wayne in the mall. (A plunge in faith that the Universe is not cruel.) The french language is a thing of beauty. Many beautiful female names have been woven into cultures all over the world. I always delight when I meet Fleur, Aimee, J'aime, Elle, Claire, Gille, etc. It was with glee when I made the appointment for a haircut with a stylist named, Desiree. My glee mutated into despair as the person at the desk wrote her name down on a reminder card: desrae. I couldn't believe my eyes. The silken desirable french name had morphed into an english version. Oh la la.

This led me to realise that there were many, many versions of words from different languages that had been adapted to suit the person's own culture. So I need not be offended as the original poetic, silken version is changed. 

Take for example my own surname. Runnerstrum. A beautiful swedish name originally translated as running stream. What a lovely image of nature that creates in my fertile imagination. I wonder if I could change it back to its original version. Clearly, the word was made more functional by dropping the dipthong off the "o". Runnerstrom. (Despite all efforts to master the skill of how to insert accents and diphthongs on this computer, I can't. ) I think I will use the opportunity whilst I am in France to revert the spelling of my surname back to its origin. It may well be that it is easier to pronounce it this way when speaking in french. "Madame Runnerstrom", tres chic!