01.17.08 kulturnatib

Debutants

This, by most standards, is a small class. There are between 11 to 13 students in this class. The fact that this is not a definite number, or at least a singular one, makes this class different. Yet, in all other respects this is a regular class.

It is so regular that my recollection of what regular is does not go back to the last time I was in school a little over twenty years ago. It goes back farther; all the way to my elementary school days when I had to wake up very early, prepare my school bag -- especially the most important content in that bag, the lunch and/or the baon, though it wasn't me doing that, unlike now -- then heft it.

I know; heft at that time was like lifting a puny thing with one finger compared to the 40 tonner kids nowadays have to contend with. But, that is another matter.

Along with the food goes the notebook, the workbooks, textbooks, the pencils, erasers, assorted ball pens and a few now newer, though still regular stuff; notably the highlighters.

Still, those elementary school days are not worth the recollection for those alone.

This class is in many ways an elementary class, though its cognate in English refers to an age way beyond those primary years, closer to secondary, even college.

This is the Débutant class. Sorry, but in this class we are not taught social graces, how to dance the Grand Cotillion Dance, how to pick the 'roses' and the 'candles,' and all the other silly details of this throw back to pseudo-Spanish elitism that seems to survive only in the Philippines at a time when by age 12 Filipina girls are getting more adept at managing their Friendster, Multiply or even Facebook accounts than, perhaps, minding their social manners.

And then, none in this class, save for one, is really any close to being in the age to be 'given away.' It is even the case that it is the children of those in this class who are approaching this age, if not past it for some.

So, debutants we might be but we are no spring chickens. It is for this and other reasons that this school where this class is organized under is called Centre Nouvel-Horizon : Centre d'education des adultes.

The other reasons come with the first part of the name. Nouvel-Horizon or new horizon.

For the majority of those in this school, their new horizon is acquiring a new skill, a certification or further technical education that can either get them into a life-long career or into even further study in the university.

For us, our new horizon is learning a new language. We are taking part in a process much encouraged by the Quebec provincial government that in many cases involve free tuition with some allowance. This process helps facilitate integration and is called francisation.

As expected, we come from all over where French is not our mother tongue; from Colombia, Ghana, Rwanda, El Salvador, Uzbekistan, Serbia, Nepal, Canada and the Philippines. That, of course, is in no particular order.

In another French class, in this same school, there are more from other countries not represented in our class. But, our country is represented very ably by a Filipina, originally from Davao, who on our second encounter at the cafeteria already offered to bring dangguit, cow's heart and innards, cooked, as usual, to maximize cholesterol impact.

So, together we struggle with a language that, with most of us, sound familiar enough since Spanish and English together with French and Italian are the Romance Languages commonly rooted in Latin. Thus, when in a particularly difficult bind, we resort back to either English or Spanish, at which points, I regret not taking my college Spanish more seriously.

For all this, the class is quite fun. Yes, we stumble with our French with much sign-language as a crutch, but we soar with stories of home, family and even tragedy in the most universal of sign languages – our smiles and laughter.