The king of limbs

* From birth to death we turn on the autopilot of our lives, and it takes a superhuman courage to deviate from this course.

Today is a friend of mine's birthday, and since he is leaving for #Paris on Monday, here is some advice in French. Happy Birthday Allen :)

Je me lâche

We went to a Caribbean/Spanish film festival once, but the only screening we could attend was entitled Miranda. Not really knowing what it was about, we spent three hours watching some obscure Venezuelan general recount from prison his rise and fall from greatness. It seemed like a South American version of Napoleon, mixed in with a bit of The Count of Monte Cristo. When we left it had not nearly finished and we felt like we deserved three hours of our lives back.

Another time we (haha, a different we) went to see Ping Pong Bath Station at the 2010 Japanese Film Festival, and it was a great night. The film is about a Japanese housewife who feels ignored by her husband and teenage son and returns to the hot-spring resort where they spent their honeymoon. She finds it neglected and creates a ping-pong event to attract new visitors to the area.

The next year we went to see Kamome Diner about a Japanese lady that opens a traditional diner in Finland and her encounters with two other Japanese ladies and the Finns who don't enter her diner. After the film ended, employees from the embassy handed out these enormous rice balls with salmon at the centre, which the ladies in the film make constantly. I'm not very much into fish but it was cool walking out and smelling what one had seen being made in the film.

Another time we went to a Canadian screening of Saint Ralph about a boy who believes that if he can win the Boston marathon his mother will awaken from her coma and he won't have to become an orphan. I appreciated the not-so-seriousness and lack of grand effects because the films we have to watch at university are [intense] and often uncomfortable. Those being screened at cinemas are usually blockbusters laden with all sorts of crash/boom/bang additions.

Now, the opportunity presents itself to visit another, this time in French.
French films will be screened at Brooklyn's Nouveau from the 10-12 August, but there are sessions in Cape Town, Joburg, P.E. and Durban as well.

Here is the link to the program. I've read and seen Love lasts three years, by Frédéric Beigbeder, about how after three years your wife leaves you and you start writing a book about it. It is an easy-watching rom-com type of movie.

I'm thinking The Intruder, 35 shots of rum, Declaration of War... Well, all of them, really. One shouldn't say no to free cinema. 

Same in any language

About thirty people are shouting at me, enthusiastically. "Commerce!Commerce!Commerce!" I am bewildered. What arrrrrre they saying? Because they are all speaking at the same time, and not in unison, I don't really know, but smile politely and pretend to have understood.

Today was the first day I ever interpreted, officially. At the moment the university is hosting a course for diplomats from francophone countries in Africa, and some of the Masters and Honours students are helping with the interpreting. Most of the visitors do understand English, but to make some points clearer it helps to have someone. Perhaps that someone is not me, yet.

The diplomats know we aren't professionals, but still I was stressing. It was like a first date, except that the butterflies in my stomach were evil and eating my insides. I prepared, read some articles, found some terminology I thought was relevant, and remembered to translate, above all, "le sens" (the sense) and not the individual words. But what you do at home is not the same as when you have to interpret words and acronyms that you don't even know in English.

After a while I decided to fuck translating the slides and simply pronouncing English words in a French way. I just made notes, and when I didn't know the word or expression, the group was more than willing to help. They were all very friendly and understanding, and after an hour, I felt a lot more at ease. I'm sure a professional would have cringed and thought that it was a bit of a pathetic effort.

But the diplomats came up to me afterwards to say "good job" and to give advice on how to improve, which is great. I think good interpretation comes with experience. I'm glad I tried this, and will do so again for Wednesday's session. It can only get better.

Someone ( I found either Roosevelt or Vonnegut as sources) said that you should do something everyday that scares you. I'm scared of lizards, sharks and people breaking into my house/car and hurting me. Academia normally doesn't scare me. Speaking in front of people is also mostly fine. This, however, was terrifying. It was the fear of not understanding, of misinterpreting, of not finding the right words, of embarrassing myself, and most importantly, of failing.

But without trying, you can neither succeed nor fail. So suck it, evil intestine-eating butterflies. I got this.

Planified

I like planning. I draw up lots of lists where I can cross to-do-things off when they are done. I like it when people do things on time. In general, I like it when things that I can control are organised, so that the things I can't control can be dealt with without having to worry about what I should have or could have done. That made more sense in my mind than when I wrote it down. In any case, today was just a slightly frustrating day from an administrative point of view and nothing worked out like I had planned it. And then, wham bam, the saving grace: Starbuck.

This week is Francophonie week, which is why the Alliance Francaise hosted different films from various French-speaking countries all week. Tomorrow is the closing ceremony, with dance and a Jazz Band, if you are in the area...

Tonight's film is Canadian (from Quebec), from 2011, and revolves around David Wozniak, who donated lots ( and I mean lots and lots and lots) of sperm when he was in his 20s, but now, a loser who works for his father as a meat-delivery guy and who somehow got sidetracked in his life, is faced with being the father of 533 children, 142 of whom want to meet him.

It sounds a bit soppy and bla bla, but it really was enjoyable. The last film I saw at the cinema was Black Swan, and in between I cannot remember what I've watched at home. Either the movies are super intricate and a complete mind-fuck, or they are some fuck-buddy-turned-real-love story.

By comparison, this was a perfect mix between a 'human' story, where there is some hope that we are all connected and love one another, and romance, and rooting for the underdog. I am making it sound worse, rather than better. See it.