Le Mirail prt 1

After attending class for the last month I've decided that class at Le Mirail is never going to be what I wish so fervently it was, which is anything akin to my undergraduate experience.

The students here are very bright. I'm amazed that they take notes in a thorough manner, using highlighters for important things, underlining, and using their margins. I've never seen an American take such fantastic notes, but EVERY Mirail student I've met does so. Aurora, a girl from two of my classes, says that in high school their teachers write on the board the same way, using different colors and highlighting and such, the students simply picked up the habit. I'm stupefied that the students I attend classes with write EVERYTHING that exits the professors mouth. Their highlighters and pens never leave their busy fingers even though classes are two hours long at minimum.

You read that right. Classes here are two hours long. To be honest, and I'm pretty good at paying attention, it's quite hard to sit still for two hours, urgently copying every piece of information that the professor gives, knowing that you have three more classes after the one you are currently in. My American brain, by the last class at 6:00 pm on Monday, is shot. I can't imagine doing homework or even speaking French after a day of full classes.

One of my Sewanee professors warned me that Le Mirail was 'cold'. She was quite right. Every building looms like the gate to some hideous industrial city. Everywhere is concrete, metal, and plexiglass. The tables are false, plastic wood and metal, as are the chairs I sit in for two hours at a time. The classroom floors are linoleum over concrete. There is no warmth and no pride in the institution at all. Graffiti covers the walls and many things are slightly broken. It's November and already I wear my coat in class because the cold air sinks into the stones at night and never seems to leave. There are no blinds for the windows, merely harsh metal grates to protect the classrooms from further vandalism when the school day is done. I attend class in an urban architectural hell.

The upside to the lack of warm surroundings is the professors, which have all seemed kind, although intimidating. Class is class no matter where you are. The first couple of meetings are spent doing busy work and getting a feel for each professor's style. There are differences though from American university, things that I'm missing terribly. Office hours don't exist -yes I've asked- I've been told by my professors to seek help from classmates or e-mail if I have a specific question about a specific assignment. Syllabi don't exist either. I have no idea where my courses are headed or when assignments are due. I don't know how my professors will calculate my grade or what their emails are....As far as I can tell the process is to read EVERY book you were required to buy, and those on the suggested list,  hope you never have to miss class, and try to keep up. I haven't seen a single student ask questions in class, none of my courses are discussion based, and the professors don't use any one's names because they don't know them. I'm called 'the American', the Anglophone, the 'neighbor' of my classmate, 'next' or 'you'.