Home » For you » Primele impresii. First impressions.

Primele impresii. First impressions.

De ceva timp incoace tot imi propun sa va fac un update in legatura cu noua mea facultate si timpul parca tot m-a furat…spital, cursuri, repetitii cu tinerii, iesiri cu prietenii, iar seara ajungeam prea obosita acasa pentru a scoate ceva inspirant, incurajant sau motivational din mine. Poate ceva ragait…dar nu mai mult de atat.
Insa seara aceasta, dupa o portie sanatoasa de somon cu cartofi gratinati a la Alida, m-am hotarat sa las totul de-o parte si sa va povestesc cum au trecut ultimele saptamani, ce mi-a ramas in minte si cum mi se pare noua mea facultate, la o prima privire.

In primul rand, e asezata intr-un cartier foarte fain si bogat, in suburbia de sub-vest a Parisului, numita Boulogne-Billancourt. Institutul de psihologie face parte din universitatea mare Rene Descartes, universitate specializata pe stiinte sanatatii, incluzand psihologia, medicina, etc.

In al doilea rand, sunt extrem de bine organizati. Inainte de saptamana inscrierilor la facultate, fiecare student a primit pe pagina personala (da, avem o pagina personala) toate informatiile necesare inscrierii, inclusiv un document in excel pe care sa il folosim pentru a ne scrie mai multe ciorne de posibile orare pe care ni le dorim, in caz ca acel curs la care voiam sa mergem s-a umplut inainte sa ajungem noi sa ne inscriem. Din fericire, la mine nu a fost cazul deoarece doctorii de la spital mi-au scris o procura speciala, am putut sa imi aleg toate cursurile inaintea colegilor mei, astfel nu mi-am ales niciun curs inainte de 10.45. (Tocmai pentru a evita orele de varf din metrou si microbii…si trezirea la 7 dimineata)
Prima saptamana, incepand cu 14 septembrie a fost mai mult de incalzire. Imi procurasem deja niste carti din bibliografia trimisa de profesori de dinainte si m-am pus sa citesc…ce eleva cuminte! Mare greseala! Am stat prima saptamana la cursuri si m-am plictisit de mama focului deoarece lucrurile pe care profesorii le explicau eu deja le citisem. Asa ca de atunci incolo nu m-am mai dus cu lectia invatata la curs, ci o recitesc acum cand ajung acasa.
La psihologia dezvoltarii, am un profesor inalt si slab. Printre pasiunile lui se numara teoria evolutionismului, Jean Piaget si ideea ca omul e verisor cu maimuta.
La analiza statistica a datelor (ASD) am o doamna profesoara batrana, cu parul roscat, scurt si niste ochelari ca cei ai lui McGonagall din Harry Potter. O batranica micuta si simpatica, care nu suporta sa se vorbeasca peste ea la cursuri, extrem de severa dar care pana acum a fost in stare sa ma faca sa imi placa matematica. Ne-a povestit la cursul trecut ca pe “vremea ei” fetele nu aveau voie sa dea admitere la Politehnica, asa ca, de ciuda, s-a dus la facultatea de matematica si a terminat prima, facandu-i de rusine pe baieti. Si a povestit toate aceste lucruri extraordinar de mandra de propria ei persoana.
Psihologie sociala. Asta imi place tare mult pana acum…sper sa spun acelasi lucru si dupa examen deoarece rata de reusita la psihologie sociala e de 28%…precum dreptul constitutional de la UBB din primul an…daca l-ai facut cu Chirita. Ce imi place cel mai mult la acest profesor este…(tobele) parul. Exact, parul profului. De ce? Deoarece si-l tine strans intr-un coc…si nu e ceva chechere-mechere. E conferentiar universitar, cu doctorat si tot…si cu parul prins in coc. Mi se pare extraordinar de relaxat ca persoana iar cursurile dumnealui sunt foarte interesante si chiar interactive.
De psihologia clinica, cursul, am ramas putin dezamagita deoarece profesoara nu face tare multe in afara de a ne citi cursul…ceea ce pot afla la fel de bine si din carti.
La sociologie si lingvistica, ma credeti sau nu, nu a fost nevoie sa merg. Vinerea dimineata sunt programata la fotofereza, in ideea ca vineri dupa masa sa ajung la cursuri. Am aflat ca profesorii sunt destul de draguti nu numai sa imi inteleaga situatia, ci chiar sa imi spuna ca nu trebuie sa vin deloc la curs, iar o colega destul de amabila cat sa imi trimita toate cursurile ei.
Iar acum, Metodele si practicile profesionale ale psihologilor. Da, exista si materia asta. Iar la sfarsit nu trebuie sa dau examen, ci sa predau un fel de mini lucrare de licenta, ca la sfarsitul primului an. Si aici, domnul profesor este foarte intelegator. Am ajuns azi putin in intarziere la TD = travaux dirigees (seminarii) cu biletul de prezenta de la spital, cerandu-mi scuze de intarziere. Domnul profesor, in loc sa imi zica sa ma duc sa stau jos si sa imi ia biletul de invoire, imi spune foarte calm sa ma duc linistita acasa si sa ma odihnesc ca voi recupera eu saptamana viitoare si nu trebuie sa imi fac griji deloc. El vede ca sunt interesata de materia lui si asta e mai important decat prezentele. Sa ma fac eu bine de tot. (Frumos din partea dumnealui, nu?)

IMG_20150915_144737
Colegii sunt…diferiti. Aparent, elevii francezi sunt diferiti. Diferiti de ce am fost eu obisnuita, desigur. O mare parte par…cum sa o spun mai frumos? Prostuti. Ei sunt cei care (iar aici am opinia profesorilor de la facultate, care ma sustine deoarece i-am auzit si pe ei spunand aceleasi lucruri) vorbesc la cursuri intre ei, nu sunt atenti, nu vin la seminarii si nici nu tare stiu pe ce lume traiesc, dar se supara ca nu isi trec anul. Am si colegi extrem de inteligenti. Am si colegi extrem de detreaba. Am si o colega din Columbia care e extraordinar de frumoasa cu un par super fain si lung. Am si cativa colegi carunti…mai batrani decat profesorii lor. Si nici macar nu le pasa! Se simt bine. Am colegi care sunt la a doua facultate deja, care si-au ratat anul la medicina, colegi extrem de pasionati de psihologie, colegi pasionati deja de o anumita problematica, precum autismul, de exemplu.
Si nimeni nu judeca pe nimeni. E primul an de licenta, iar ei sunt extrem de relaxati. Daca e sa fie, bine. Daca nu, nu e nimic ca doar e plina lumea de oportunitati. Mai iesim si mai tragem o tigara. (Da, deci daca voi credeti ca la drept se fumeaza mult, trebuie sa veniti sa vedeti Parisul. Nu doar pe strada, inclusiv colegii mei…si nu doar o parte. Suntem o parte de fapt cei care nu fumeaza). Oricum am inceput 500 si la master vom intra doar 80. Si cam 60% vor pleca dupa…primul an. Sau il vor pica. (Pa-ram-pam-chiu) Informatie foarte folositoare data de dna profesoara de analiza datelor inca de la primul curs.

IMG_20150922_092521
Ce vreau de fapt sa scot in evidenta este ca, in tara, in Romania, daca un copil isi ia un an liber de la facultate…nu se duce direct la universitate, la un profil pe care nu il cunoaste foarte bine, de gura parintilor, ci mai sta acasa, citesc, calatoreste, poate munceste cate un pic, incearca sa imi isi dea seama “care-i treaba”, noi il judecam si spunem ca isi pierde un an din viata. La fel si daca incepe la un profil si sfarseste la altul. Poate incepe la psihologie si sfarseste la antropologie…sau incepe fizica si apoi de fapt, vrea informatica. Noi il judecam. Numim acel timp, “an pierdut” si nu e. Nu e chiar deloc. Cred ca asta e lucrul cel mai fain care l-am invatat pana acum de la colegii mei. Asta si sa fii relaxat…insa la relaxare si David a inceput sa lucreze cu mine de ceva timp incoace. Insa tot mi se parea ciudat ca nimeni nu se duce inca la librarie sa isi cumpere carti, nimeni nu alearga ca sa nu intarzie la curs (alearga mai mult ca sa nu piarda metroul de intors acasa) si toti se pun jos oriunde apuca, numai sa nu stea in picioare. Okey, asta inca nu pot sa o fac deoarece nu ma tare lasa picioarele si in plus…e murdar pe jos! Adica…cu aceeasi pantaloni eu vin apoi acasa si ma pun pe canapea.
Dupa o prima privire, pot sa spun ca sunt incantata. Se pare ca am gasit un echilibru intre scoala, spital si viata…dar oricum, in orasul acesta, si daca ai vrea nu ai putea sa fii doar stresat.
Dupa amiaza aceasta, dupa curs de dimineata, fotofereza si iar curs, eram in metrou…putina inghesuiala era, recunosc, dar am gasit un loc jos, langa geam. Si am trecut iar pe langa Sena, pe langa turn si pe langa toate vaporasele care asteptau turistii si indiferent cat de obosita eram, am simtit cum ma revigorez. Asa ca am zambit, mi-am indreptat spatele, am ajuns acasa bucuroasa si m-am pus sa ascult rock and roll si sa imi pregatesc cina…deoarece Parisul este si orasul gurmanzilor.

I’ve been meaning to update you about my new college and it seemed as if time were stealing me…hospital, classes, rehearsals, dates with friends, and in the evening, when I got home, I was way too tired to write anything inspiring, encouraging or motivational.

This evening, after eating some salmon and potatoes a la Alida, I have decided to drop anything I was doing and tell you about these last weeks, the impressions about my new college.

First of all, my college is in a very beautiful and wealthy part of Ile-de-France, in the south-west suburbia of Paris, called Boulogne-Billancourt. The Psychology Institute is part of the broader René Descartes University, which is specialized in health studies, such as medical school, psychology, etc.

Secondly, they are extremely well organized. Before the inscription week at the University, each student received on his personal page (yes, we have a personal page) every information needed for the inscription, even an excel document that we ought to use to prepare our possible time-tables, in case the class we wanted to take got full before we went to register. Fortunately, I had no problem because my doctors wrote for me a special letter, so I could choose my classes before everyone else, so I didn’t take any class before 10:45. (Especially to avoid rush hours in the metro and therefore bacteria…and waking up at 7 am)

During the first week, starting on September 14th it was more of a warm-up. I managed to get some books from the bibliography that was sent by the teachers so I started reading… What a wise student! Big Mistake! I went to classes the first week and got bored to death because I had already read everything the teachers were explaining. So I decided not to read the lessons before classes, only to read it again at home.

At the statistics analysis class I have an old teacher with short ginger hair, and glasses like McGonagall fro
m Harry Potter. A sympathetic little old lady, who cannot bear people who interrupt her, but until now she managed to make me like maths. She told us during the last class that “during my times” girls were not allowed to enter Polytechnic school, so, to enrage them, she went to math school and finished first, making the boys shameful. And she told us all of this extraordinarily proud of her own self.

Social Psychology. I really like this one until now…I hope I can say the same after the exam because the percentage of people that pass it is of 28%…like Constitutional law at UBB University in first year…If you did it with Chirita. What I like most about this teacher is … (drumssss) his hair. Why? Because he wears is tight in a bun. He’s a University lecturer, with his Ph.D and everything…and with his hair up in a bun. I think he’s a very relaxed person and his classes are very interesting and even interactive.

About Clinical Psychology, the class, I was a bit disappointed, because the teacher doesn’t really do anything but read the lesson…which I can do all the same by reading.

For Sociology and Linguistics, believe it or not, I didn’t need to go. Friday morning I have an appointment at the hospital, so I cannot arrive to the Friday afternoon classes. The teachers are comprehensive enough not only to understand my situation, but even told me that I don’t need to come to their classes at all, and a really friendly classmate said she would send me all her notes.

So now, with Psychologists’ Professional Practices and Methods. Yes, this class exists. And at the end I don’t have an exam, but some kind of small thesis, like at end of a Bachelor Degree. And here, my teacher is Very understanding. Today I arrived a little late at the seminars with my ticket from the hospital, apologizing for being late. The teacher, instead of telling me to go sit down, takes my ticket, and tells me very calmly to go home and rest because I’ll be able to recover next week and that I don’t need to worry. He sees I am very interested by his class and that’s more important than being present. And he tells me that the important thing for me is to get better. (Really nice from him right?)

My classmates are…different. Apparently, French students are different. Different from what I was used to, of course. Many look…how to formulate it nicely? Limited. They are the ones that (and here I have my teachers’ opinions, which comfort me because I have heard them say that) talk during classes to each other, are not concentrated, don’t come to the seminars and don’t really know on what planet they live on, but don’t get mad or upset if they do not pass the year. I also have extremely intelligent classmates. And very nice classmates as well. I have a colleague from Columbia and she is really beautiful with a really long, nice hair. I have classmates with grey hair and are older than our teachers. They don’t even care! They feel just fine. I have classmates who are at their second choice, because they failed their first year as Med Students, classmates who are really passionate about psychology and passionate about certain problems, like autism, for example.

And nobody is judging anybody. It is the first year of our Bachelor Degree and they are extremely relaxed. What matters is that all is fine. If it is not, not to worry. The world is full of possibilities.

Anyway we have been accepted 500…500 places in the first year of Licence. In the first year of Master Degree, we’ll be just 80. And about 60% of people will leave after the first year. Or fail. (Pa-ram-pam-chiu) Very useful information given by our Statistics Teacher, in the first class.

What I really want to point out is that in Roumania, if a kid takes a year off, sits a bit home, reads, tries to find out “the deal” about his life, we judge him and say that he wastes a year of his life. Maybe he starts a Physics major and ends up doing Informatics.

I think this is the most awesome thing I have learned so far from my classmates. Being relaxed…David started working on that too.IMG_20150907_125039

This afternoon, after the classes in the morning, after fotofereza and class again I was in the subway…little bit crowded, I admit, but I found a seat next to the window. I passed near the Seine, the Eiffel Tower and all the little boats which were waiting for the tourists. No matter how tired I was, I felt happy again. So I smiled, straighten up my back, arrived home and happily I put on some rock and roll music and start making dinner. Because, after all, Paris is the city of the gourmands.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s