Seán’s Blog

Seán’s insular travel (III)

2012-01-24T01:09:00.003+08:00

A neighbour somehow mockingly said, ‘There are rail roads in Corsica!?’

← Ticket of CFC (Chemins de Fer de la Corse).

Near a car’s door of the French high speed train, there is probably a map of national railway networks. At the lower right, or southeastern, corner, there should be an often neglected island on which two lines are drawn. They were classified by the SNCF as TER Corse, but I never heard this calling in Corsica. The principal line of Corsican railway lies northeast-southwest from Bastia to Ajaccio, and from the station of Ponte-Leccia, a branch line is built to connect Calvi in the northwest of the island. There had been another line towards Porto-Vecchio at the east coast of Corsica, but was severely damaged during the second world war, and has never been recovered. The youth card (carte 12-25) issued by the SNCF did not apply to CFC, which offered other kinds of discount, to none of which my identity applied, and I thus simply said to the ticket seller that I would like a one-way ticket to Ajaccio, whereas the lady charged only 7,70 € for my ticket and I later on understood it was the student price. The concessions for students were theoretically offered to those studying at Corsican University only, but no one cared about it. Besides, I was contented with the fact that I have not yet looked too old to pass for a student. The ticket looked far different from SNCF’s long rectangular ones. It was a bright yellow small ticket and did not require a validation before the access to the train; there was, in effect, no machine for validation.

← Upper left: the rail track parallel to the high way. Upper right: the train is going to cross over the Romanesque arch bridge. Lower left: bridge over a creek in the mountains. Lower right: mounts outside the windows.

I finished my breakfast under the dawning sky, and then I went to the Place Padoue to send postcards. The post office opened at half past eight, and I was the second one waiting in queue. Later, I bought a Figaro, checked-out of the hotel, and then walked to the rail station, dragging my luggage. The station was a bit far from the centre of the town, taking about 15- to 20-minute walk, while I still seemed too early to wait at the station. The ticket seller reminded me the time when the train would arrive, and asked me if I would like to buy the ticket immediately. Of course yes, why did I need to wait until the last minute? The train would arrive at Corte one and a half hours later, so I found a seat in the small hall of the station and read my Figaro, or observed other passengers. There was a lady who wanted to go to Île-Rousse (Calvi-bound), and she impatiently answered ‘Je sais ! (I know!)’ after the ticket seller’s incessant reminder of timetable in a lazy tone. There were also some German mountain climbers going to Vizzavona, which was the highest station of the rail line.

← Upper left: train traversing mounts and hills and reaching the sea. Upper right: people waving to the train at the seaside of Ajaccian suburbs. Lower left: terminal station ─ Ajaccio. Lower right: the station of Ajaccio; getting out of the station, I saw a journalist and videographer of France 3, but in the following days I did not see any related image on that channel and have known nothing till now.

I have once seen a new AMG800 train near the station of Bastia, but the train I was going to get in was not that one with modern style. Approaching the station was a nostalgic and out-of-date X2000 train of two cars, and in the air was the pervasive smell of diesel. In my impression, the train was not air-conditioned, but it was not too warm in the end of autumn. In lower seasons, the passengers were mostly locals, and this made me feel embarrassed to take out my camera, until I saw a bunch of German tourists run though the train to and fro, without any disguise, in order to take pictures of the scenery outside the windows. Sometimes I thought it unnecessary to photograph, and a voice of ‘Why not put away my camera and incline my head against the window, viewing tranquilly the natural scenes’ continuously came in my mind. The marvellous scenes of the mountains on the island could never be represented by pictures, but required a visit in person. Mounts in high relief growing from the sea and the vivid contrast must be ordinary and mediocre rocks if put in a framed picture.

The speed of the train was not fairly high; in fact, it took even a bit longer than a bus to finish the whole ride. A guy seated at the other side of the aisle stood up and went to a window near the end of the car, taking out his cigarette and lighter, and began to smoke. Gradually, more and more passengers sensed the smell of smoke, and ten minutes later, the controller stopped him. ‘Jette ! Par la fenêtre ! (Throw it out of the window!)’ I remembered that my guide book has mentioned forest fires as a natural disaster in Corsica. It may have probably been one of the reasons. After passing by Vizzavona, the train went into the other département on the island ─ Corse-du-Sud. Some plains could gradually be seen, and beside the rail track were no longer high cliffs. At the seaside in a suburb of Ajaccio, somebody waved a greeting to the train. Trains were not at all intense in Corsica, and it must have been special to see a train passing through a rail track which seemed not in use. However, it is a fact that trains exist in Corsica. It is not a decorated line on the map, but a truly operated railway. When I, back to the continent, talked about this train journey, one of my neighbours, mockingly surprised, said, ‘There are rail roads in Corsica!?’

I stayed in Hôtel Fesch, a three-star hotel, for three days. GEO-GUIDE put this hotel in the list of ‘very high prices’ (prix très élevés). I booked a room on a German website HRS, and the price was 65 € per night. When I got into my room, I saw an information sheet on a desk and knew that, even in lower seasons, the room I stayed would cost 132 € per night. Really a prix très élevé!

Ajaccio is the capital of Collectivité territoriale de Corse (as région in French continent); like other capitals in the world, it was just a featureless large city.

Seán’s insular travel (II)

2011-12-14T05:32:00.000+08:00

In the rocky and mighty mountains had a fairly modern and decent highway been built, contrasting my impression of its stagnant infrastructure.

← Eurocorse Voyages coach ticket.

I had my lunch at La Renaissance, one of the restaurants recommended by GéoGuide Corse. Since I was in Corsica, I thought it would be good, even only once, to do as Corsicans do, and thus, I ordered a dish of Charcuterie corse. There were in fact several varieties of Corsican sausage, and I could not remember all their names, but they shared a common feature that was —─ monstrously salty. I then realised that, on each street in Bastia, especially those where restaurants could be found, the odour that I intermittently perceived by smelling came from these sausages and goat cheese.

The Eurocorse Voyages coach ride from Bastia to Corte (pronounced as Corté) was charged at 9€ as student price, and took approximately 1½ hours. The colour of sea was very soon replaced by rows of green hills and mounts. The mountain road, passing by quasi-no man’s land, was almost parallel with the railway, hence those frequently seen rail track, Romanesque arches and tunnel entrances higher up the mounts. I had imagined that it would be a meandering bumpy road in the mountains, but it could in fact be considered as a smooth highway. The public transit was not quite developed and frequent on the island. At low season, after noontime, there would be a mere train running in the evening, and this was why I had to take a coach. Halfway to Corte, The coach stopped by Ponte Leccia, a crossroads town, and there a mother, seeing off her son, reminded him at the door to give her a call once arriving in Ajaccio. Then, the son was seated at the window and gave his mother a flying kiss. This was absolutely different from the plot of the short novel View of (Father’s) Back, which we read in high school’s Chinese class. Basically, I was still used to our culture of implicit emotions. I had got up too early due to my unnecessary nervousness; in consequence, I could not really appreciate the scenery outside the windows but mostly took a nap, digesting that ‘Corsican odour’.

← Upper left: statue of Pascal Paoli. Upper right: Chapelle Sainte-Croix. Lower left: Rampe Sainte-Croix and remote mountainous view. Lower right: Corte, a valley town surrounding by mounts.

Suddenly, the scenery in the valleys changed from fragmentary dwelling places to midtowns. The coach stopped at a street side. The hotel ─ Hôtel du Nord ─ where I planned to stay for two nights was not far from the stop. The hotel’s on-line booking system looked fairly advanced but its real appearance shocked me a bit, as it was beyond my imagination of an over-seventy-euro-per-night hotel. However, its inner part was renewed and the breakfast would be served at the small restaurant next to the hotel. Then I knew from the intro that this was one of the oldest hotel in Corte. Corte is a student town in which is located the only university on the island ─ Università di Corsica Pasquale Paoli. In MDCCLXV, Paoli set Corte as the capital of independent Corsica and established this university. France obtained the island of Corsica from the Republic of Genoa in MDCCLXVIII and closed this university, and not until MCMLXXXI was it reopened. This year was the 30th anniversary of the university’s reopening, and plenty of posters for related activities could be found on the walls in Corte; also, the local newspaper Corse-Matin covered a series of stories about the event.

← Upper left: mountainous view from a platform near the fortress. Upper right: dish antennae on roofs. Lower left: fortress at on a steep summit. Lower right: the building left to the staircase is Palais national, which served as Genoese governer’s palace, then the office of government and parliament during Paoli’s period, and is now the office of president of Università di Corsica Pasquale Paoli.

In the evening of Saturday in Corte, almost all stores and exhibitions were closing. Storekeepers exchange Bon dimanche with one another and locked their doors then. I bought a few postcards in last minutes, and later on took a walk in alleys in the vicinity. The whole island was full of undulating land; both of Bastia and Corte, which I have so far been to, had lots of steep streets which might sometime, just once in a long while, make me recollect certain segments of memories of my childhood in Bitan (literally ‘Green Lake’) and Guoxiao Road, Xindian. I had my dinner at a small restaurant. The main course was tagliatelle pasta with brocciu. I had coke as my drink and it was of the local brand Corsica Cola. I later found that, here, people tend to put ‘Corsica’ on their insular products.

← Upper left: upper town and the fortress, taken from a belvédère. Upper right: upper town. Lower left: a quire rare tourist group in later autumn, the members of which are mostly the aged who no longer need to work. Lower right: Museum of Corsica; special exhibition ─ Mare Nostrum ─ of the second half of 2011.

Breakfast was basically sweet food. Various Corsican jams were offered on the self-serving bar, and the servant emphasised that they ARE Corsican jams. I could not really tell the difference between Corsican ones and other ones though, of course, Corsican ones were much better than those offered in my dorm in Lille. The Museum of Corsica, situated at the upper town, would open at 10 am, so before then, I walked around higher alleys. I reached the belvédère beside which was a horrible ravine. In spite of my acrophobia, I still prudently walked up the stair. The stair itself was easy; neither of strolling up and treading down were difficult. The only problem came from my mental barriers. Nonetheless, there were fortunately no other tourists in the vicinity, so no one would see me in a stupid predicament on the stone stair. Back to the plaza near the museum, I saw a rare tourist group. In the season of late autumn, they must have been aged people who no longer needed to work. Their guide was probably presenting them the history of each building though I did not really understand what he was talking. The Museu di a Corsica was the first regional museum in France and an anthropological museum in which were very wide and eclectic themes of expositions. The topic of the second half of 2011’s special exhibition was Mare Nostrum, presenting how the Mediterranean Sea has been closely bound up with Corsican daily life. I finished my visit two hours later when it has been noon, and it got much warmer outside.

← Upper left: works of Fronte di Liberazione Naziunale Corsu. Upper right: French words crossed out by Corsican separatists; they forgot to erase French Ajaccio. Lower left: stadium of the University of Corsica. Lower right: Campus Mariani.

Walking along stone steps towards the valley of Restonica. At the upper reaches of Restonica were some mountaineers’ camping sites. Panels were mostly bilingual with French and Corsican dialect (or Corsu), and it was very often seen that the upper lines in French were crossed out. Sometimes this situation made me think of my home country, and due to my own position as a Chinese unionist, I could not have any sympathy for these radical Corsican movements.

← Upper left: Station of Corté. Upper right: rail road on a bridge across Creek Tavignano. Lower left: platforms at the station of Corté. Lower right: on the train is a logo of SNCF; Corsican Territorial Collectivity will revoke SNCF’s rights of exploitation and management in 2012.

In the vacation, there was nobody on the university’s stadium, especially when it was Sunday. Near the stadium was the station of Corte, which looks much more shabby than that of Bastia, but I thought it decent enough for this valley town. On the timetable, there were indeed trains running on Sunday whereas the station was not open. I was wondering if the station would open only ten minutes before the departure, if the ticket could be sold in the train or if, actually, the timetable was simply nonsense and no train would run on Sunday. I took two or three pictures alongside the platforms and then kept walking back to the hotel. Next day when I was buying the ticket at the station counter, I still did not enquire about my little questions. With age comes the loss of curiosity.

Back to my room in the hotel, I took a long nap. It was more enjoyable than visiting the museum.

A port city along the Opal Coast

2011-11-25T18:28:00.001+08:00

A visit to Calais on an extra holiday preceding Armistice

On Thursday, 10 November, I decided to take the TER line 11/12 to Calais. This visit was simply for not always staying in my room but, in fact, there was nothing really interesting to do in this port city.

website on the road

a fountain in Parc Richelieu

In my opinion, Calais is, like Ypres, also a city of the theme of death. This means there are quite a few of monuments and commemorative statues.

statue of Six Bourgeois in front of the city hall

Monument des Pêcheurs Disparus en Mer (Monument to fishermen lost at sea)

Then, the Friday was a holiday but did not good to me, as I have got no class on Fridays and, also, daily life becomes inconvenient on holidays.

‘No one wears a plastic poppy flower.’

<!>Note：All photographs were taken by the author, and all rights are reserved.

In Bruges near the end of October

2011-11-25T06:50:00.001+08:00

After a week in Corsica, I visited a Flemish town, enjoying the sense of great differences.

Well, I know quite well that I have not finished my Corsican travel notes. I will surely continue writing (when I feel less lazy). I was going to Bruges two days after coming back to Lille, meeting my friends who are exchange students in Brussels during this academic semester.

↑ autumnal Flemish scenery

↑ I was trying to catch the image of falling leaves.

My friends, in the train from Brussels to Bruges, met another 3 Taiwanese students who were then doing their exchange programme in Barcelona, and we thus visited the town of Bruges together.

↑ the park where we picnicked

↑ a curious tourist.

More pictures are available in the same album.

Bruges, a fairy-tale town, appeared much more picturesque and poetic in autumn . . .

<!>Note：All photographs were taken by the author, and all rights are reserved.

Charm of the biggest city in French Flanders

2011-11-23T06:27:00.001+08:00

Lille: late autumn & pre-Christmas atmosphere

↑ entrance to the Christmas market on Place Rihour

↑ pedestrian passage between Grand’Place and Place Rihour

The Christmas market started on Saturday 19 November, and even some of my French neighbours were surprised by this earliness. I walked around the Grand’Place, photographing for fun, and then had my belated lunch at a restaurant beside a passage next to Place Rihour. Many English tourists enjoyed their week-end in Lille; I heard even more English conversations than French ones near the plaza.

↑ the grand wheel on Grand’Place viewed from a gate of Vieille Bourse

↑ in a park near the Field of Mars

Lille has already become a part of my daily life and its beauty is thus less perceptible. Even if a tourist’s points of view are not necessarily better, that day when I carried my camera with me walking around in the city, I pretended to be a visitor to whom Lille was whole new, and wished to be inspired. Somewhat of a success.

The weather has been fairly nice until now, 2.30 am, Wednesday 23 Nov.

<!>Note：All photographs were taken by the author, and all rights are reserved.

Seán’s insular travel (I)

2011-11-18T17:42:00.001+08:00

During my vacation in late autumn, I tried to hold the idea of ‘taking a vacation trip’ to Corsica but, at least for me, a trip would always be a series of escapes.

← Corsican-island-shaped specialty shop sign.

In my lovely Valentine dorm, a French neighbour claimed (rather boasted) that Corsica is the ‘most beautiful island in Europe’, and even without the politically correct form of superlative ─ ‘one of the most (…)’. In the kitchen or on the staircase of the dorm where neighbours would frequently meet one another, we were used to exchanging greetings (as a routine) and at that time we often talked about travels during the All Saints vacation, and interestingly, when my neighbours heard my plan to travel to Corsica, their first response would usually be, with widely opened eyes, ‘You are going to Corsica?! It’s very nice there!’ And the following sentence would be ‘Well, I heard it from others. I have never been there myself.’ Sometimes, I felt somehow uneasy to talk about my travel too early, as I doubted quite a bit if my trip would become true. If I kept procrastinating the arrangement of my trip, with the coming of the vacation, I would probably still have stayed in my dorm during the whole vacation. Later on, I consulted the information about ferries crossing between the continent and Corsica on Internet for many times for the reason that I never felt easy in aeroplanes; however, in consideration of time and money, I persuaded myself to book a flight ticket. EasyJet had flights between Paris-Roissy and Ajaccio / Bastia, while the prices in the month of October were not really ‘low-cost’; a single flight cost from 70 to 80 euros on average.

← Upper left: Hotel ‘Best Western’ on the hill. Upper right: Bastia Station of Chemins de fer de la Corse. Lower left: a typical Corsican building. Lower right: mottled rose-coloured wall.

As expected, on the eve of the day of my departure, I was put in a fairly sombre mood and suffered from a deep anxiety. In the eveing, my American neighbours invited me to have a Mexican dinner with them. Before the dinner, I went to the Carrefour on Rue Léon Gambetta to buy some tortilla chips. It was inexplicable that, walking on Rue du Port in the dusk, I should have been depressed by the Flemish-style red brick buildings and even so sad that I felt hard to breathe (but this was probably caused by the chilly strong wind). On that night, I slept for less than two hours. I woke up on my own and wanted to switch off the alarm clock which has not yet rung, but found a shocking fact that the alarm clock has been switched off. Well, I thought I had set the alarm clock …

↑ Upper two: Submarine Casabianca, serving in WW2 in resistance against Nazi Germany. Lower left: Napoléon Bonaparte’s statue on Place St Nicolas. Lower right: a newspaper store on a street in Bastia.

On Friday afternoon, my flight landed at the Airport of Bastia-Poretta. At the moment when the aeroplane totally stopped in front of the terminal building, the steady and serious sense of security immediately filled my heart. On the other hand, I felt myself quite ridiculous that my ‘aerophobia’ was even more serious than the time when I left my country for France. Since EasyJet allowed a mere hand luggage at a strictly limited size, I squeezed my side pack including camera in my already full luggage; in consequence, it was not quite possible to take out my camera in public, and I did therefore not take a picture but only gazed at the orange aircraft for awhile and, dragging my luggage, walked into the terminal building. It was more like a bus terminus than an international airport. Right opposite the main exit of the airport was the shuttle bus towards city centre (destined for Préfecture de la Haute-Corse), which charged 9 euros for a ride ─ the price seemed artificially inflated as what could be easily seen in the third world. In terms of natural scenery, my first impression of Corsica was nice enough; I found it a mountainous island on which the hiking route GR20 was probably highly renowned amongst European mountaineers. With the bus going northwards, it was the azure or nearly indigo Mediterranean Sea to my right, and a splendid row of mountains and hills to my left. Buildings on the island were mostly shabby with mottled walls, whereas they had special characteristics in styles and colours. Especially when I saw those bumpy hills interlaced with light rose and canary yellow houses, I thought it would be very easy to tell that IT IS CORSICA.

← Upper left: South terminal of Bastia Port. Upper right: a departing ship of Corsica Ferries; somebody was waving a farewell but not taken in this picture. Lower left: Vieux Port (Old Port) at Terra Vecchia (lower town). Lower right: Baroque style St Jean-Baptiste Church beside the Vieux Port.

I stayed for a night at Best Western Bastia, situated halfway up a hill. In the morning when I left my lovely Flemish city, the temperature had dropped to around 1°C (approx. 34°F), and the warm and unwieldy coat on me looked thus funny when I was dragging a luggage and walking up the hill to the hotel. The vicinity of the hotel was tranquil and it took about 10-minute walk down the hill to the down town and new port. Regular ship service between Corsica and the continent or Sardinia was available at this international port. Beside the office of tourist information was a vast rectangular plaza ─ Place St Nicholas. According to my memory, the ground of the plaza was paved with rose-coloured fine pebbles. The white statue of Napoléon Bonaparte as a Roman emperor was situated at the plaza’s south side, and it was naturally one of tourists’ most frequently photographed objects. Terra Vecchia (the lower town) was right adjacent to the old port of Bastia. Rows of fisher boats and the gorgeous marine scenery were even more like the top film- (or memory-card-space-) killers. The baroque-style St Jean-Baptiste Church could be seen from the old port. I did not really visit the church, for I knew none of the saints to whom the chapels in it were dedicated.

← Upper left: Moor’s head on the wall of a restaurant near the Old Port at Lower Town. Upper right: overlooking the marine scenery of Bastia from Terra Nova (upper town). Lower left: a corner of Place Dominique Vincetti. Lower right: an Apple shop in Corsica.

To the south of the old port was a steeply rising street to the Terra Nova (the historic upper town where the citadel was located). As it was near the sunset time, I could only take some photos along the streets. Following the guidebook, I found the Oratoire Sainte-Croix, one of the only or otherwise unique rococo oratories in France. This was indicated in the guidebook; personally, I could not tell the meaning of the term rococo. Seriously lacking sense of direction as usual, I walked on a wrong way even though holding a map. An aged man happened to come cross me and I asked him for assistance, but soon found he barely spoke French. Uttering several mysterious Corsican sentences, he kindly took me to the house of Docteur Paoli; nevertheless, I was in fact looking for Cours du Docteur Favale and Boulevard Paoli.

← Upper left: Museum of Bastia. Upper right: Court of the Genoese government. Lower left: tablet commemorating the decree of 30 Nov 1789. Lower right: overlooking the Old Port and the further New Port from a high spot of the museum.

Next morning, I returned to the upper town for visiting the Museum of Bastia, which was the palace of Genoese governer in Corsica. The process of Bastia’s development and urbanisation, as well as cultural, musical, literary and commercial histories of Corsica since the age of Genoese ruling, were adequately presented in the museum. In spite of that I had not done research about this island, the rich diversity of information in this museum still inspired me a lot. It was sort of low season of tourism, so I was the only visitor in the museum. A lady, one of the museum workers, told me that repeating slides could be found in almost every exhibition room and that benches were available for watching them. After my tour, she asked if I was doing my studies in Corsica, and I then uttered the name of the cold city. She said that she had lived in Lille for four years. I have never been to the neighbourhood of Fives, but I still felt quite familiar with it in hearing the name of it.

← Upper: Bastia City Hall. Lower left: Caisse d’Allocations Familiales (CAF) of Haute-Corse. Lower right: Rococo style Oratoire Saint-Croix at the upper town.

In the afternoon, I came back to the hotel to take back my luggage, and then I went down the hill to the shabby coach station. The station was not a building but in fact two or three mere parking spaces, and surrounding it, no sign could be found. Feeling a bit anxious, I finally found the coach towards my next destination.

According to my observation, except the facts that most insular residents spoke French, that French TV channels broadcast in Corsica, and that mobile calls were domestic rather than roaming, this island seemed to have nothing to do with France.

<!>Note：All photographs were taken by the author, and all rights are reserved.

Cinq jours à Paris

2011-09-27T06:28:00.000+08:00

C’était la troisième fois que j’ai visité Paris. Cette fois-ci, ma visite à Paris avait pour but que j’évitasse la tranquillité chagrine du Nord.

Après avoir reçu le courrier pour retirer la carte bancaire, je me suis hâté vers le guichet dans la gare de Lille-Flandres afin d’acheter le billet pour Paris. Le lundi 1^er août, deux semaines après mon arrivée en France, je suis revenu à la gare de Lille-Europe. C’était la première fois que j'ai pris une siège en cabine de 2^e classe et je me suis dit que, si la différence de prix entre les deux classes est inférieure à 5€, je prendrai la première. Arrivé à Paris, j’ai cherché comment parvenir au Bureau de représentation de Taipei en France. À ce moment-là, une partie de la ligne C de RER était en traveaux, et je devais donc prendre le bus Castor pour aller à la station de Musée d’Orsay. Dépourvu de plan de Paris, je n’au eu de choix que de marcher aux alentours de la station de métro en risquant d’être perdu afin de trouver l’arrêt à embarquer dans le bus Castor.

← haut-gauche: Bureau de représentation de Taipei en France. haut-droite: la façade du Bureau, avec le drapeau du thème du Centenaire de la République de Chine. bas-gauche: dans le Musée du quai Branly; collections d’objets des civilisations d’Océanie. bas-droite: Centre Pombidou et moi.

La demande d’une traduction française de l’acte de naissance coûtait 11€, et la moitié de ce prix était ajoutée pour la demande de l’urgence du dossier (sous 3 jours). J’aurais dû acquitter seize euros cinquante centimes pour obtenir un papier follement simple, mais on n’a finalement encaissé que onze euros au guichet, sans doute par une erreur. Ensuite, j’ai pris encore une fois la ligne B de RER vers Massy-Palaiseau. Pendant ma visite à Paris, je séjournais chez un ami, Frédéric, à l’École polytechnique. Un autre ami, Jacques, étudiant en échange à la SciencePo, m’a recommandé plusieurs endroits à voir. Le Musée de Cluny a possédé une collection des objets du Moyen Âge, dont la plupart étaient religieux. Le Musée du quai Branly m’a beaucoup plu. Il y avait un énorme nombre de collections ; Jacques et moi, nous n’avons eu que le temps pour voir la section de l’Océanie, mais étions bien inspirés.

← haut-gauche: Institut du monde arabe à Paris. haut-droite: un aperçu du Sacré Cœur à la plateforme d’observation. bas-gauche: le style islamique du bâtiment de l’Institut. bas-droite: le couloir.

Il faisait très beau quand j’étais dans la région Île-de-France. On a dîné chez Antoine, le colocataire de Jacques, et s’est bien sûr beaucoup parlé. Je crois que c’étaient les plus beaux moments que je passasse en France. On ne savait pas s’il y aurait encore des occasions de se voir et de manger ensemble comme ces soirées-ci après qu’eux, Jacques et Frédéric, étudiants en échange de l’année 2010/11, rentreraient à Taïwan dans quelques semaines. À presque minuit, il restait tout calme autour la gare de Lozère (l’École polytechnique). J’ai adoré l’environnement de l’École polytechnique où il y avait bien des verdures. Un peu éloigné du centre ville de Paris, cet endroit a fourni des bonnes possibilités pour ranger des pensées.

↖ haut-gauche: Musée du Louvre : antiquités étrusques. haut-droite: le Sacrophage des Époux. bas-gauche: des couvercles de sacrophage.

Vendredi, j’ai revisité le Musée du Louvre. Cette fois-ci, j’ai passé la plupart de temps dans l’exposition d’objets de la civilisation étrusque.

Il était quasiment une loi qu’il pleuvra quand on va partir. Il pleuvait énormément au moment où j’attendais le train à la gare de Paris-Nord. (Heureusement, la pluie s’est arrêtée à Lille.) Mon petit voyage était fini ─ j’avais cru aller rentrer chez moi dans le rêve la veille du dernier jour en Île-de-France . . . J’ai ouvert une nouvelle humeur quand retourner à Lille, malgré une légère mélancolie.

Je pense revenir à Paris, que je n’aimerais jamais mais que j’aurais envie de revisiter.

<!>Note：All photographs were taken by the author, and all rights are reserved.

Lille: the first fortnignt

2011-09-14T07:33:00.002+08:00

A contradictorily astounding, boring and interesting journey

I have been to Lille, France, for almost two months. Time passes soon and I am aware about how I really need to put some descriptions of photos in order that my memories are not deformed too much.

← taken in the train from Aéroport-CDG-TGV to Lille-Europe.

This time, the EVA Air’s direct flight from Taipei to Paris arrived on time. I did not have any trouble when passing the customs even if carrying a bit more than ten thousand euros - in order to live in France for a year. The 1^st class seat of TGV was not far more expensive than the 2^nd class one, and thus, holding my Print-at-Home ticket, I got in the red-hued and comfortable car of the train towards the north. The train stopped at the station of Lille-Europe, the station in service mainly for high-speed lines, Eurostar and Thalys. I had done some research on Internet about the métro and bus lines of Lille when I was still in Taiwan, and this helped a lot when I was trying to take the métro and bus to Lille Catholic University.

← Upper left: Rue Nationale. Upper right: Sacré Cœur. Lower left: a translation agency on Rue Solférino. Lower right: Place de la République & Palais des Beaux-Arts.

Signing the contract of housing was easier than what I had imagined. My residence was on Rue du Port and near the Boulevard Vauban. I was actually quite disappointed by the first sight of these roads. Not until visiting the Vieux Lille did I began to believe that Lille could be labelled as a beautiful city.

← Upper left: rowan trees at the Place Simon Vollant, beside the Porte de Paris. Upper right: Porte de Paris. Middle left: Square du Réduit. Middle right: taken in the Square du Réduit. Lower left: Square du Réduit. Lower right: La Noble Tour.

During the first week since my arrival in Lille, I was busy dealing with my French bank account, and therefore, I went nowhere until the second week. On 25 July, I decided to walk around some tourist sites in Lille. For example, Porte de Paris, or the Gate of Paris. This triumphant arch was erected during the period from 1685 to 1692 in order to celebrate Louis XIV’s conquest of this city in 1667. This arch replaced the original gate of Lille and was named the Gate of Paris to demonstrate Louis XIV’s prestige and how far the territory of France reached.

← Upper left: Musée d’Histoire Naturelle, de Géologie et d'Éthnographie. Upper right: models of dinosaur fossils. Lower left: camouflage of an insect. Lower right: Machine Jacquard.

It is said that the Fine Arts Museum in Lille is only second to Le Musée du Louvre. Since I was not really interested in arts, I skipped all the museums about fine arts. It is imaginable that I was impressed with the Museum of Natural History, Geology and Ethnography. It was free at that time thanks to a special exhibition, and even if it had not been free, it would have cost only 2 euros as youth price. It had a great collection of specimens, especially those of birds from the north of France.

← Upper left: Statue of P’tit Quinquin, a lullaby composed by Alexandre Desrousseaux in a local patois in 1853. It was a touching story of a poor lace-maker trying to make her baby Narcisse sleep.. Upper right: Les Fusillés lillois, commemorating five resistants executed during the World War I. They are (from left to right) Georges Maertens, merchant; Ernest Deçeunynck, lieutenant; Sylvère Verhulst, Belgian worker; Eugène Jacquet, merchant of wine and departmental secretary of the Human Rights League, and the right-most one down on the earth, Léon Trulin, student at the age of eighteen. Middle left: Henri Matisse Park. Middle right: Place François Mittérand, and the station of Lille-Europe. Lower left: Rue des Trois Mollettes, in Old Lille. Lower right: garden around the Citadelle.

The Citadelle was not only a historical site but also a military base in use. Surrounding the walls was the park, and on the outer ring were some stands, a zoological park, an amusement park and a river bank. The star shape of the citadel must be viewed from a really high place, and since I could not reach that height, I would find the citadel a bit boring. Later on, I visited Old Lille, had a meal at a Siamese restaurant, spending nearly thirty euros, and visited Musée de l’Hospice Comtesse. I forgot everything I have seen in that museum, only to remember that there were loads of young English students producing noise (in a British way).

Finally, I wrote something.

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Should have been the end

2011-07-04T21:36:00.000+08:00

The grade has truly been nothing to me but still shocks me quite a bit.

With the coming of summer vacation, it should have been the end of my university life. I decided to prolong the duration of studies as I am going to be an exchange student at Université catholique de Lille for a year. I have wondered if it would be a waste of time because I have really not got a clear motivation and it seems that I just intend to play around in a foreign country. I have heard from one of my partners, Antoine, who is going to Lille with me, that one of his parents doubts his decision to be an exchange student for the reason that his schoolmates are on the ‘right track’ to find an internship or extend their studies to an advanced level. In my opinion, I believe it must be a good decision for him, because it will be quite hard for a doctor ─ if he will be ─ to travel abroad for a whole year in the future.

On the first of July, I had a rendez-vous with Esther and Irene in Taichung. I went to Banqiao at around half past nine in the morning. Those who have not finished their military service must obtain a permission if they intend to go abroad; thus, I was going to get a permission stamp in my passport. The building of New Taipei government looked like a department store where quite a few civil servants worked absent-mindedly. In a lift, I heard two female employees talking about ‘energy’ and fengshui.

← Left: the hall of Banqiao station. Right: union station of Taiwan Railway Administration (TRA) and High Speed Rail (HSR).

There were two public notebook computers offered in Banqiao HSR station, and neither was occupied. Waiting the train, I decided to check if the grades had all been released. In the just finished semester, I had only four classes, of which I am the least interested in Nineteenth Century American Literature. I submitted the final paper right before the deadline because I had absolutely no idea about what to write. I chose to write about Edith Wharton’s The Other Two ─ in view that it was short and would not take much time to read ─ and discussed gender issues without ‘traditional’ feminist perspectives. However, I must acknowledged that there was no clear structure and no abundance in ideas in the paper. Perhaps I was attached to the philosophy of ‘Don’t be ambitious!’, that is, I never thought of comparing a classic literary work with another canonical one within the period between 1865 and 1914 in the United States. Actually, I believe that my choice was even more difficult; indeed, to extend the reading of merely a short fiction to a seven-page study paper was exhausting. I posted my paper to my instructor’s mail box in the office of FLL Department, for I did not want to go there only to hand in the paper. (What a waste of time and traffic fee!) Only the grade of American Lit was not released at that time.

The shuttle bus from Taichung HSR station to Chaoma (Xitun) bus stop took only twelve minutes, much faster than my imagination. Esther and I went to see the movie, Make Up, directed by LIEN Yi-chi. I would classify it as a comedy horror film. I happened to be in Xitun district and sensed that the film apparently tried to depict Taichung as a place full of red-light districts.

↑ The ticket printed at the 7-ELEVEn on Tingzhou Road near TRTC Gongguan station was not clear enough. The QR code was not able to open the turnstile and I had to consult the controller to manually check my ticket.

Yesterday, I finally got the grade of American Lit. The respective grade of the paper really shocked me: it was an incredible 90/100. I was supposed to be content and fairly satisfied but, in fact, felt somehow unreal and unrealistic, and even wondered if my instructor truly read my paper and found it not worth the grade.

Anyway, I have eventually finished all the required courses of FLL department. I have only got two more biology-related classes of so-called ‘liberal education’ to take, and I will take them after coming back from France a year later.

A friend from Huilong (Xinzhuang) is visiting me tomorrow.

Note of the 31st day before my visiting to the French Republic

2011-06-19T22:28:00.000+08:00

‘Is it not delightful to have friends coming from distant quarters?’ – Confucius

Eventually, I left the campus, and the only task that is left to me is the final paper for the Nineteenth Century American Literature. Honestly speaking, the instructor of this class is eloquent and erudite, and has a style of which I should be fond, and also, the content of this class is interesting enough and worth appreciating. The truth, yet, is that I took this class only after being filled by the utter disappointment about literature. The only thing I care about now is meet the required credits for graduation. As for literature being an academic subject, I believe it impossible to be taught. (I decide not to coin the word ‘unteachable’.) In recent days, I have been stayed home struggling with my paper, and I am determined not to reach the evil campus for handing in the printed paper; I will post it to the Department’s office.

My friend Swift has returned home for a fortnight after one-year stay in France for exchange student programme. I had an afternoon meeting with him, and talked about the tough life in Paris. There is no certainty in that crazy Republic; none of matters is predictable. I had a feeling of empathy for Jacques’s case of CAF subsidy on housing. This proved that the life in a socialist state is not at all less tough, especially when that state is adopting a pseudo-socialist system.

As for my travel plan in the following year, I said I do not really intend to visit a great number of countries in Europe but take journeys to various places within France. I will try to arrange my classes to be on Tuesday, Wednesday, and/or Thursday, in order to have a longer week-end, so that I can frequently take trips to other places in France. However, Île-de-France is in fact excluded from my travel plan. I am fed up with its boorish elements, probably because of those philistine images of Paris created by all the forms of multimedia. Anyway, I must admit that study is never the reason for me to apply for exchange student programme to France.

In the evening after parting with Swift, I walked around Taipei 101 Mall, of which many stands have disappeared. I saw plenty of Mainland tourists, and wherever they showed up, there would be evil Falun sect’s protestants. Frankly speaking, I appreciate neither the ROC policy of tourism nor Mainland tourists of the current kind, but I know well that no importance will be attached to my opinion.

16 June: the 31st day before my flight takes off.

What do student activists represent?

2011-04-22T04:29:00.000+08:00

Since when has the title of STUDENT been so ‘honoured’?

In the Republic of China, environmental issues are increasingly more widely explored and debated especially after nuclear accidents in Japan. At the time when the official environmental impact assessment of Kuokuang Petrochemical plant in Changhua County is about to be released, the controversies concerning excessive carbon emissions and possible jeopardy of coastal wetlands are recently even more strongly ignited. Objectors seem the mainstream, however, there are still some voices of pro-Kuokuang just from local townships for the reason of job opportunities.

Environmental issues are never of my concern, while it is not to say that I must mount my opposition to environmentalists; in effect, I am personally not attached to either side on the issue of Kuokuang plant. I would be willing to, as a matter of fact, state my objection to the petrochemical plant should it be proved to bring harm to the health of even one person. However, I do not understand why some people are protesting under the title of students. On malicious Facebook, we can find some activities named as ‘Students against Kuokuang Petrochemical’ or ‘Students do not keep silent: Objection to (...)’, et cetera.

Firstly, I doubt that most of those students who have ‘participated’ in the activities really understand or are willing to take time understanding the whole issues but simply follow what others are doing, taking themselves as justice protectors. Actually, to click ‘Yes, I will participate’ or ‘Like’ is not at all equivalent to a participation in something.

Secondly, almost all university students are aged over eighteen, which means these students are adults just as those in their thirties, forties, fifties, and even older. A man aged forty-seven protesting against something on the high street indicates no difference from a twenty-three-year-old woman (or girl, if you prefer) doing the same thing. So, why do they express their ideas under the title of students? What and whom do they (wish to) represent? To what kinds of responses do they expect to lead? The quality of youth (of students, perhaps) only refers to carelessness, rashness, over-susceptibility, or at most naïvety. Nevertheless, curiously, Students (with capital S) are thought in our society to have stronger sense of justice. Even if students are sometimes wrong, our society is more willing to forgive them, especially those studying at so-called ‘good’ universities. I must firmly say this is absolute nonsense.

This situation does not occur only in the case of Kuokuang plant but also in many other issues concerning cultures, historical reservations, genders, ‘human rights’ and so forth. I never know a genius student who can be so versatile and eclectic. If one pretends to know lots of things, he or she is merely childish but far from dangerous; unfortunately, some student activists are either absorbed by a certain political power or voluntarily in favour of the increase in advantages of a certain political party, but meanwhile bear the title of STUDENT in order to have others to believe that they are pure and just. This is disagreeably insidious!

Always be sceptical of student activists who emphasise the identity of Students.

Brief jouney to Shísānháng Museum

2011-03-25T02:46:00.035+08:00

New Taipei Shisanhang Museum of Archæology
─ 200 Museum Road, Bali District, New Taipei

There are currently three express bus lines connecting bālǐ District with TRTS Luzhou (Orange) Line: 927 (Capital Bus Co.), 928 (Tamsui Bus Co.) and 929 (San-chung Bus Co.). The best choice is the 927 as it has the shortest intervals and reaches Left Bank Wharf. The least recommended is the 928 unless your departure stop is in Wǔgǔ District. No standing is allowed in the 929, for it goes through a short section of National Highway. I took the 927. The bus stop nearest to the Taipei Rapid Transit System is on Jíxián Road, Lúzhōu District. Left the St Ignatius High School Station at exit 2, turned right crossing Jixian Road, and then I walked to the right at about 100 metres to the bus stop.

The bus ride from St Ignatius High School to Left Bank Wharf took about 45 minutes and charged a two-section fare (24 TWD for students). It had already been past one o’clock when I got off at Left Bank Wharf so I had my lunch first at a café-restaurant on the left bank of the River Danshui.

← Upper left: path along the riverside. Upper right: kandelias in the mangrove swamp. Lower left: Taipei County (now New Taipei City) Shisanhang Culture Park. Lower right: Bali Sewage Treatment Plant; its establishment has destroyed some archæological sites of the Shisanhang Culture.

After lunch, I walked along Guānhǎi Boulevard and Museum Road by the River Danshui, passing through Kandelia Park and Wāzǐwěi Ecological Reservation Area (挖仔尾生態保護區), and about twenty minutes later, I arrived at Shisanhang Museum. I did not intend to see the remains of this prehistoric Iron Age culture as they are displayed in the permanent exhibition where the theme is always the same if nothing new is dug out.

← Upper left: special exhibition ‘Northern Taiwan in Historical Maps’. Upper right: south-up map. Middle left: antique map of Ilha Formosa. Middle right: documents of household survey, cadastral survey, etc. during Japanese occupation. Lower left: anti-communist slogan ‘Give back our lands’; twentieth anniversary of the establishment of the Planning and Research Commission for Reconquering the Mainland (now defunct). Lower right: various maps of Taiwan.

It was on Friday and there were very few visitors. I did not see any museum guide or service staff in special exhibition rooms. It was a pity that the museum’s guiding service was not really ideal and this would cause a loss of chance to adequately introduce a prehistoric culture of Taiwan to tourists from home and abroad. According to the museum’s website, guiding service would be offered only in Mandarin and Taiwanese dialect but not in English or other foreign languages. Can it be that this is their purpose to preserve job opportunities for interpreters?

↖ Upper left: another special exhibition ‘The Circle of Weaving a Life: Atayal Weaving Art’. Upper right: Museum building photographed from the platform on the whaleback sand dune. Lower left: coffee stand on the platform on the whaleback sand dune.

After visiting exhibitions in the museum, I went out of the building and mounted up the platform on the whaleback sand dune. On the platform, there was a coffee stand, which, as can be seen in the picture, seems not to have been open. Later on, I walked through Rén’ài Road to Zhōngshān Road Section 2, where a bus stop for the 927 could be found. The return bus ride to TRTS St Ignatius High School Station took only 35 minutes, for I did not get on from Left Bank Wharf, the starting stop.

The 927 goes through Provincial Highway № 64 (Bālǐ-Xīndiàn Expressway).

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Chinese-English translation (6)

2011-03-20T22:34:00.001+08:00

Translated from United Daily Evening News (聯合晚報)’s news report ‘太早剖腹胎兒併發症機率增’.

Source link: http://udn.com/NEWS/HEALTH/HEA1/6221539.shtml

Too early C-section carries more risk of complications in infants

HUÁNG Yùfāng (黃玉芳), 19 March 2011

Taipei (UDN) ─ Taiwan’s birth rate decline is contrasted by the soaring rate of Cæsareans. Last year, the reduction in Taiwan’s overall birth rate reached the record low of 9.1 per mil, while the C/S rate remained at between 33 and 34 per cent. In other words, approximately one in three women in labour has chosen a Cæsarean section. This made Taiwan, aside from South American countries like Brazil and Chile, one of the countries and regions with high C/S rates. Yet, medical research at home and abroad has indicated that a C-section performed before 39 weeks would increase the length of hospital stay of infants and carry more risk of respiratory complications in them.

Today’s 1^st Symposium on Neonatal and Perinatal Medicine in Taiwan brought in discussions about risks carried by C-sections. Hung-Chang Lee, Director of the Department of Pædiatrics at Mackay Memorial Hospital (Taipei), pointed out that, currently, it is often supposed that babies at 37 weeks are mature enough to be born by C-sections.

However, according to domestic and international research papers comparing Cæsarean sections for non-medical reasons to natural childbirths, it has been found that infants born by C-sections at around 37 to 38 weeks have to stay in the hospital on average one day longer than naturally born babies, and face an elevated risk of sepsis. Moreover, the extravascular lung water and infant respiratory distress syndrome (IRDS) in new-born children are more likely to cause respiratory complications. Nevertheless, infants born by C-sections after 39 weeks indicate little noticeable differences with naturally born babies.

In clinical situations, for reasons such as superstitions about birthday horoscopes, the fear of the pain of labour, the wish of having a more elegant process of childbirth, or the worry about the virginally negative impact on future sex life, and even due to that the operation is subsidised by National Health Insurance, many expectant women insist on receiving C-sections, without any medical requirement like malposition.

Provided that it is decided to choose a Cæsarean section, it would better be performed after 39 weeks, as suggested by Lee, in order to mitigate the risk of complications in infants.

(356 words)

Lunch at Arcadia Restaurant

2011-02-14T00:54:00.000+08:00

My parents and I had lunch at the restaurant of Arcadia Recreation Corporation in the mountainous area in Yǒumù Village, Sānxiá District, New Taipei.

Upper left: Arcadia (花岩山林, huā-yán-shān-lín) Recreation Corporation. Upper right: cherry blossoms. Lower left: view from a lane. Lower right: a cascade.

Yesterday (12 February), my parents and I decided to have our lunch at a restaurant in the recreation area operated by Arcadia. My parents had once dined there with their friends, but it was my first time to have a meal at Arcadia. It was in Yǒumù Village, where I have not visited for approximately ten years. It took about have an hour to reach Yǒumù from Sānxiá’s downtown. In the weekends and holidays, it costs 300 TWD, which can be deducted from the dining consumption, to get into the recreation area. Food offered there tended to be European style, yet I still felt it a bit ‘Taiwanese’ (with nice quality, though).

This time, it was my father who drove us there, yet later on, I found this site reachable by Taipei Bus Corporation’s 807 (Sānxiá─Xióngkōng). The stop ‘Fóshān (Huāyánshānlín)’ (佛山(花岩山林)) is just at the feet of the hill on which the recreation area is situated.

Cherry blossoms grown in the subtropics seem different from those in the former metropolitan empire, Japan.

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Yingge landfill park

2011-02-08T00:23:00.000+08:00

Another journey to Yīnggē District, New Taipei.

Viewing Sānxiá NTPU communities from a higher spot of Dahan River landfill park.

Taken on 7 February 2011

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TRA Yingge Station

2011-02-08T00:09:00.000+08:00

Another journey to Yīnggē District, New Taipei.

Façade (on Wénhuà Road) of the last TRA station before entering Taoyuan County, where I had visited about three months ago.

Taken on 7 February 2011

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Yingge Ceramics Museum’s building

2011-02-07T23:57:00.000+08:00

Another journey to Yīnggē District, New Taipei.

Having had lunch and afternoon tea at a restaurant & café in the vicinity of New Taipei City Yingge Ceramics Museum, my mother and I walked a bit on Yīnggē’s streets. I took some pictures of this museum but did not enter for not having any interest in ceramics itself. I have developed my standard operation process to deal with unsatisfactory colours of photos: Black & White and Warmify. Some detailed retouches are involved, too.

Taken on 7 February 2011

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Street view of Bali District

2011-02-06T16:24:00.000+08:00

Lunar new year’s journey to Bālǐ District, New Taipei.

An entrane of Guānhǎi Boulevard, which, despite the title of ‘boulevard’, is in fact narrower than lots of streets in Taipei. In the background is Guanyin Mountain. There is a Capital Bus Corporation’s bus at the entrance. That is Line 927 (Sānchóng─Bālǐ), which links Bālǐ District and St Ignatius High School Station of TRTS Orange Line.

Taken on 3 February 2011

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Cycling path along the riverside

2011-02-06T15:54:00.000+08:00

Lunar new year’s journey to Bālǐ District, New Taipei.

The 6th km on Bālǐ left bank cycling path (starting from Guānyīnkēng Creek Conflence). My old camera’s depth of field cannot be manually set shallow enough.

Taken on 3 February 2011

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Kandelia along Danshui River’s left bank

2011-02-06T15:21:00.000+08:00

Lunar new year’s journey to Bālǐ District, New Taipei.

An estuary view: kandelia along Danshui River’s left bank. The other side of the river is Dànshuǐ District. Danshui Station of the TRTS Red Line is in the upper middle part of this picture.

Taken on 3 February 2011

This is not Starbucks

2011-02-06T11:28:00.000+08:00

Lunar new year’s journey to Bālǐ District, New Taipei.

A probable knock-off Starbucks in Bālǐ District.

Une contrefaçon éventuelle de Starbucks dans l’arrondissement de Bālǐ.

Taken on 3 February 2011

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Side effect of Taipei County’s promotion

2011-02-06T11:17:00.002+08:00

Lunar new year’s journey to Bālǐ District, New Taipei.

With the promotion of Taipei County to New Taipei City on 25 December 2010, Bālǐ Township, where I travelled last year, has become Bālǐ District. The sticker of 新北市 (New Taipei City) is pasted askew and not at all pertinent to the billboard’s background colour. Moreover, the English translation has not been modified. An ugliness of the city and this country!

Avec la promotion du comté de Taipei à la ville de Nouveau Taipei le 25 décembre 2010, la Commune de Bālǐ, où j’ai voyagé dans l’année dernière, est devenue l’arrondissement de Bālǐ. L’étiquette de « 新北市 » (ville de Nouveau Taipei) est collée de travers et n’est pas du tout pertinente à la couleur de fond du panneau. En plus, la traduction en anglais n’est pas encore modifiée. Une laideur de la ville et de ce pays !

Taken on 3 February 2011

Chinese-English translation (5)

2011-01-29T22:28:00.001+08:00

Translated from Central News Agency (中央社)’s news report ‘學測國文五年來最難’.

Source link: http://bit.ly/hRuRK8

Most difficult Chinese test in the latest five years

LÍN Sīyǔ (林思宇), 27 January 2011

Taipei (CNA) ─ The Senior High School Chinese Language Arts Advisory Group (organised by the Department of Education, Taipei City Government) said that, in the General Scholastic Ability Test this year, the structure of the Chinese test is nicely integrated. The ratio of questions about classical and vernacular written Chinese is one-to-one. This exam paper has a high degree of differentiation, contains lots of questions requiring logic thinking and critical views, and basically emphasises on reading comprehension. This is the most difficult examination paper of Chinese test in the latest five years.

According to the advisory group, this year’s Chinese test questions have a plain layout without fancy yet require careful considerations and are easier to answer for those having studied hard. Questions concerning reading comprehension have the highest proportion in the test; curricular questions principally derive from the 40 literary works selected by several major textbook publishers and have an increase in the genre of fiction. Questions are pertinent to the society; for example, the guided writing task originates from current events, and in a question group, the twelfth and thirteenth questions concern Taiwan’s ecology. Descriptions of questions are relatively shorter, whereas both multiple choice and non-multiple choice questions involve more analytical and critical views than ever and emphasise on rational thinking. Hence the hardest test of Chinese subject in recent half a decade.

One of the senior high school teachers who have assisted the College Entrance Examination Centre to moderate test questions thought that the classical-vernacular ratio of this test is consistent to the spirit of paying equal attention to both classical and vernacular written Chinese texts, normed by the senior high school course standards. Students do not only have to care about current affairs, but need to possess the capacity of independent thinking and the ability to analyse current events as well as express their own opinion.

(311 words)

Lack of practice

2011-01-25T01:34:00.000+08:00

Practice makes progress. (Perfection is unachievable.)

Taking out my notebook of French classes in AF (July 2008 - April 2010), I am surprised that I have noted down quite a bit of things which I no longer remember. I even cannot feel at ease without consulting the conjugation tables when I promptly need to use subjunctive tenses. I must admit to have done less and less revision and further stopped since the autumn semester of twenty-ten for the reason that I took no class of any French theme. I almost forgot the word étourdi, which ought always to be used to describe me.

I am trying to recollect my memories of French before my departure for France in this summer.

Chinese-English translation (4)

2011-01-16T17:55:00.001+08:00

Translated from Central News Agency (中央社)’s news report ‘死背英文文法學者嘆浪費生命’.

Source link: http://goo.gl/8ZNni

Professor: ‘Rigidly memorising English grammar is a waste of life’

LÍN Sīyǔ (林思宇), 9 January 2011

Taipei (CNA) ─ High school teachers often ask students to know English grammar and vocabulary by heart, and Chāomíng Chén, professor in the Department of English at National Chengchi University, says this is ‘a waste of life’. He thinks that teachers should encourage students to read English story books, and ‘full mark of English in College Entrance Examination is almost obtainable if one has read the whole series of Harry Potter even if ignoring textbooks for all the three years of senior high school’.

How to learn English well is an annoying problem for lots of people. Chén believes that studying English grammar since the very beginning will completely destroy students’ interest in continuing the study of English.

He says, for example, in the first lesson of the English textbook for junior high school, students are taught the expressions such as ‘What’s this?’ and ‘What’s that?’, which we hardly have a chance to use in the future. ‘What’s that?’ may sometimes be used, but the situation is probably that you wish the interlocutor to repeat his or her words rather than asking what a certain object is.

Chén encourages teachers and parents to make children read story books and fictions, for the reason that, by doing so, interest in reading can be cultivated and children can broaden their view and imagination. It is also possible for children to learn how to flexibly use vocabulary while reading fictions. His son has never studied grammar since the beginning of his study of English. Chén just provided him with some company when his son was reading English story books. He taught his son to guess from the contexts or even skip while seeing words he had not known, which has not influenced the comprehension of the whole texts. This has cultivated his son’s interest in studying English.

Fèngxīn Liú, associate professor in the Department of foreign languages and literatures at National Chung-Hsing University, also thinks that reading helps children to organise their thoughts, and that, in order to learn English well, one must be habituated to reading.

Liú says, for instance, Alice's Adventures in Wonderland provides children free imagination in reading, and the legendary singer was also influenced by it, and that, in Charlotte’s Web, well known children’s book, the writer’s natural and elegant expressions are worth referencing for promoting writing ability.

According Zhèngyuán Yú, fifth year student in postgraduate medicine at Kaohsiung Medical University, the cultivation of English proficiency relies on reading fictions, newspaper and magazines from which one can acquire considerable knowledge about English. To be good in English, one should immerse him or herself in an environment of this language.

(439 words)

Seán’s Blog

Seán’s insular travel (III)

Seán’s insular travel (II)

A port city along the Opal Coast

In Bruges near the end of October

Charm of the biggest city in French Flanders

Seán’s insular travel (I)

Cinq jours à Paris

Lille: the first fortnignt

Should have been the end

Note of the 31st day before my visiting to the French Republic

What do student activists represent?

Brief jouney to Shísānháng Museum

Chinese-English translation (6)

Lunch at Arcadia Restaurant

Yingge landfill park

TRA Ying​ge​ Station

Yingge Ceramics Museum’s building

Street view of Bali District

Cycling path along the riverside

Kandelia along Danshui River’s left bank

This is not Starbucks

Side effect of Taipei County’s promotion

Chinese-English translation (5)

Lack of practice

Chinese-English translation (4)

TRA Yingge Station