8 May

One of my friends have French lessons every week and today I decided to go too, because I like that teacher really much (but unfortunately it was the last lesson). I had been learning French for roughly 3 years, but I gave it up in September last year because I had to focus on my studies and I missed it so bad. I've always loved the French language, ever since I was, what, six or seven? But my mom only signed me up for classes when I reached 13. I wasn't too good at it, but I loved it nonetheless. There's something about the sound and the look of the language- its elegance, perhaps?- that fascinates me. I'm not the least surprised that it's been said to be one of the most romantic languages in existence.

The teacher's name is Mrs Geangalau, she's Romanian and she is my favourite teacher ever, even though she's only taught me for one year, my third year of high school. She taught me Literature in English and I liked her so much. I had hoped that she would be my teacher again the following years, but sadly it wasn't meant to be. I missed her lessons a lot. She's different from other teachers in the sense that she almost never uses textbooks, she's free and open-minded, she says interesting and inspirational things, and above all she's witty and has a brilliant sense of humour. A lot of students are terrified of her become when she's joking she looks exactly the same as when she's angry, but I disagree. She's the best teacher I'd ever had.

The lesson was a lot of fun (fun as in the two of us laughing at the others' poor French because I'm slightly better than them). She sent me to the canteen for cookies and when I came back I found that she had written something in my notebook.

I couldn't make sense of the first quote until a lot later, and let's not even mention the second one because her handwriting is so difficult to read. I did manage to pick out some words though and that was enough for google.

The first one is a quote:

Partir c'est mourir un peu.

[To leave is to die a little.]

The second one is the first stanza of a poem by Paul Verlaine called Chanson D'automne.

"Les sanglots longs

Des violons de l'automne

Blessent mon coeur

D'une langueur

Monotone."

(Paul Verlaine)

["The long sobs

Of the violins of autumn

Wound my heart

With a monotonous

Languor."

(Paul Verlaine)]

The poem goes on like this:

Tout suffocant

Et blême, quand

Sonne l'heure,

Je me souviens

Des jours anciens

Et je pleure

[All choked

And pale, when

The hour chimes,

I remember

Days of old

And I cry]

 

Et je m'en vais

Au vent mauvais

Qui m'emporte

Deçà, delà,

Pareil à la

Feuille morte.

[And I'm going

On an ill wind

That carries me

Here and there,

As if a

Dead leaf.]

Oh I do hope that she was just sharing some meaningful quotes and poems with me and she didn't mean anything else.

My friend told me that she had once mentioned something about the school giving her administrative work, and that a teacher in Hong Kong is not a teacher anymore but a clerk and she's fed up with it.

I feel extremely worried and miserable all of a sudden.