Learning in Québec

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I'm someone who began learning French when I was 53. I took a BA in French at 60 but wasn't happy with my level of comprehension (though I read very well). So, having really become comfortable with Spanish only by living on the Mexican border, I'm spending more time in Québec and near the border of Quebec, in Vermont, to see if I can do that here with French. I want to encourage others to do the same.

Sunday 5 August 2012

De l'eau

Ici le problème:  je ne peux pas trouver dans ce nouveau Blogger format comment est-ce qu'on peut mettre des images (ou des photographs).  Alors, je dois copier des images déjà utilisés desquels j'ai le HTML.

Was that perfectly clear?  I can't find how to upload images on this new Blogger posting page, so I can only use images I've already used that have the hypertext mark-up language already written out. 

Bof.

It's very hot.  I don't quite quite believe it.  I think I'll look for an old picture of water.

Speaking of water, though, I'm reminded to mention the lectures at the Museum of Civilization, by the riverside it is, and the lovely speaker from Guadaloupe who spoke about Le Chevalier Saint-George or Joseph du Bologne, also called the black Mozart.  When I was told by an usher (dressed in costume of 17th century for le Fête de Nouvelle France) I couldn't leave the auditorium for a drink of water, which I really needed, and still come back in, I asked her, herself, the speaker, as she was sitting just in front of me, waiting for the person who would introduce her, who was late, if there might be time, and she brought me a glass of water from the shelf beneath the podium.  Yes!  Without a word of English!  My most successful request for water, ever.  When I gave her back the glass half full, because she might need some, too, though I really wanted to gulpall of it, she said no, I could drink it all, because there was another glass of water there on the stage beneath the podium.

In her lecture (Conférence) she explained that Guadalupe, the word, comes from the Arabic for River of Love.  Having lived much of my life near the Guadalupe River and then near Guadalupe Street in Austin and then on Guadalupe Street in Seguin, Texas, I want this to be true.  I like it much more than what is given elsewhere, that the word comes from something meaning "Valley of Wolves."  Goodness.

I wish I could give you her name or her picture, this kind woman from Guadaloupe who gave me one of her glasses of water.

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