Ch-ch-ch-changes Already
Bloglings, a new, scarier epoque in my Stockholm experience has begun, an era in which I must take Swedish far more seriously.
I finally had the documents I needed to go to the SFI central office (Swedish for Immigrants, the place where I waited in vain for several hours in my last post). I got there at noon and was sent upstairs for a drop-in placement test. My understanding was that this was mostly to see whether you were illiterate. They have separate classes for people who have higher education in their home country. So now the harrowing story of how I came to spend FIVE HOURS there.
First I had an interview. This was only about ten minutes long. The woman asked me questions very slowly, like where was I from (it turned out she had lived in Boston herself, many years ago when her husband was at Harvard medical school), how many years of education did I have behind me, etc. She was very friendly, and I was pleasantly surprised I could interact with her in Swedish without using any English. However, I was, uh, not eloquent. Whenever she asked me something, I looked at the ceiling, became highly pensive, and then said either "good" or "not good" after giving up on finding my vocabulary words which appeared to be playing hide-and-seek on me. Sometimes I accidentally put in German words. I waved my teach-yourself Swedish book at her and showed her what chapter I was on in the hopes that she would telepathically know all the details of my Swedish level. She seemed to consider. In what I saw by her expression was a long shot in her opinion, she got out a little book and opened it to a short text in Swedish and made me read it out loud. I did, and then she asked me if I had understood. Actually I understood everything. But I forgot the word for everything and so instead I nodded my head vigorously and showed my teeth. Then I went into an excited monologue about how 2/3 of Swedish words are encrypted German ones, except for my recent experience with the Swedish names of flora and fauna, these being entirely Swedish. Of which she understood: ZERO. Why did such a nice, intelligent lady understand only 0.00 percent? Because my monologue sounded something like this:
"Swedish and German like, very like. I know word Swedish sound German can we say 75 of 100? Yes, yes, you know? But some not like, these...(long pause as I look out the window searching for words) these, you know? (The light of understanding did not cross her face, and I saw I would have to plow forward.) Yes, ah, eh, some Swedish word not like German: these NATURE."
I will cut short my reminiscences of this interlude now. But let's just say there was considerably more time spent trying to get across what I meant by "nature".
So that was a little embarrassing. She pointed to a couple of words in the text and asked me what they meant instead, and miraculously I was able to begin to get across to her that I knew the meanings. Because of my vigorous head-nodding. At least she saw that I was TRYING to express that I understood even if I couldn't paraphrase them.
So then she consulted a computer and told me I could start SFI classes some time in the middle of next week, since they were all full at the moment. She gave me a piece of paper with the number of the office so that I could call and find out which school had a place. Then she told me I'd have a short written test in the other room.
We went to a big room with many desks where many people of many nationalities were sitting and taking tests. Along the side were computer stations, where one or two people seemed to be taking computerized tests. She explained to me very slowly and clearly that there were three topics for a writing sample, and that I only need pick ONE, NOT all three, as if it were really common for students not to understand that. And I'm sure is is common. I thanked her, and she left, saying goodbye and that I didn't need to come back to her when I was done. She left my file with the teacher at the front of the room.
So the test was easy. Just what's your name, where are you from. I was sort of giddy at how easy it was, and got a bit fancy, just for fun. For the writing topic, I chose "Describe a trip you have taken". I decided to describe my first trip to Sweden. I got very involved in it, biting my pencil and forgetting everyone in the room. I carefully only used Swedish phrases that I had painstakingly memorized from my grammar book and from pop lyrics, but with different nouns. I talked about how I had been nervous to come to Sweden because I loved THS, but was worried that I might not like his country, and what would become of our love then?! I must say, it was heartrending. Very heartrending.
I handed in my test rather proudly and was already on my way out the door when the teacher came and gave me ANOTHER test. I thought, "Okay, the test was longer than I thought," and sat down again. This time it was reading comprehension. It was a news story about a robbery. So I filled that out, teaching myself the meanings of words by their contexts. It took me a long time, but I did it too, feeling pretty confident I understood everything, and really pressing myself to flip things this way and that so that I could answer questions properly. (Something I've learned over the years: use tests against themselves! Most of the information you need to get a test right is contained within the test. Few tests are tests of knowledge, most are logic problems. The key is time -- you're dead if the test has a time limit. This one didn't). I turned it in, and the teacher glanced at it and then gave me two MORE worksheets to fill out, with two more texts to read, and another little essay to write. At that point, I realized the things I was being asked to do were getting harder.
It was while I was filling these ones out (now it was about the medicinal benefits of white onions, and a woman thief who swallowed all the jewels she stole), that I realized that there were three teachers at the front now, and they were talking to each other and looking at me. Getting nervous, I handed in these tests, and just then yet another teacher came in, this one very sharp, strict, and brisk looking, obviously some kind of authority. I couldn't understand everything they said, but a nice looking teacher said to me, "Your Swedish level was very bad in the interview," and she gestured at my file, "but you write extremely well and you don't have any problem with these comprehension tests." I looked at them, and didn't know what to say. Literally. So I said all I could say in Swedish: " I know German." I thought a light of understanding would cause their eyes to sparkle then, but no such luck. Apparently many Swedes do not consider their language similar to German. Probably only something they'd find out if they happened to study the language.
I was handed yet another test by a young teacher, but then the authority figure began to say something, and a discussion ensued. I didn't get everything, pretending to be busy with my new test, but what I managed to understand was:
"Have her do it."
"No, but if she can't speak, it won't help."
"It doesn't matter, speaking, she can learn."
The test I had in my hand was pulled back out of it. I was steered toward one of the computers, and sat down in front of it. Even once I was sitting there they continued to argue over me. I tried to look as innocent and David Copperfieldish as possible.
Finally with a clack of her heels, the boss teacher turned and went out loudly and forcefully. It seemed I was to stay at the computer. I looked at the screen and saw that it was the national test. 2 hours and 15 minutes. Aaaghhhii! I had already been taking tests for two hours! I was hungry and thirsty. But I'm so timid, I didn't want to rock the boat or have to expose my inability to talk Swedish by trying to ask in Swedish for a food break.
And yes, I had finally met my match. This test was timed. AND I was hungry and impatient. AND it was incredibly hard. There was a listening comprehension part that made you listen to Swedish radio. The essay questions for the writing part gave you a choice of topics like, "What if the world's oil supply were to be exhausted?" and "How might our society best organize elder care?"
I took the test for a long time. There was a reading comprehension part where I NEVER did manage to figure out ANYTHING about the topic. Finally, the room that had been full when I came in was empty. It seemed to be getting dark outside. All the teachers were gone. The boss woman with her clicking heels and brisk speech came back eventually. She asked how it was going. I said something like, "It...too...haard...for...me..." She told me they were closing. She took me into her office.
She was the kind of person who always sounded angry even when saying kind things, so it took me a while to figure out that she was saying that no matter how I did on the test, it was simply very good for me that I had taken it, in light of having little background with Swedish.
Then she looked at my results on her computer. She congratulated me because apparently I got a perfect score on listening comprehension. But the other stuff was abysmal. As expected. She said many things very quickly then. I got that she had decided I was a "fast learner" and that she had a school for me where I should start monday where they had classes for flexible, speedy learners. Then she handed me a sheet of paper, and I saw that I wasn't being sent to SFI at all anymore, but something called SAS, which appears -- now that I've had time to research it -- to be preparation for university study in Swedish.
The ironic thing is that my Swedish wasn't even good enough to understand where I was supposed to go on Monday morning, and I was so intimidated by my new persona as "the girl who knows Swedish" that I was ashamed to ask, because I picked up that she had already said it more than once.
So now I have to get up early on Monday and call. Jeez.
And who knows how much of a disaster this class will be when I show up -- the deaf, dumb, wonder girl.
The good thing is that whereas Swedish has been a play-language for me up til now, suddenly after that string of never-ending tests and interactions, it's all deadly earnest. (To my addled brain at least.)
I finally had the documents I needed to go to the SFI central office (Swedish for Immigrants, the place where I waited in vain for several hours in my last post). I got there at noon and was sent upstairs for a drop-in placement test. My understanding was that this was mostly to see whether you were illiterate. They have separate classes for people who have higher education in their home country. So now the harrowing story of how I came to spend FIVE HOURS there.
First I had an interview. This was only about ten minutes long. The woman asked me questions very slowly, like where was I from (it turned out she had lived in Boston herself, many years ago when her husband was at Harvard medical school), how many years of education did I have behind me, etc. She was very friendly, and I was pleasantly surprised I could interact with her in Swedish without using any English. However, I was, uh, not eloquent. Whenever she asked me something, I looked at the ceiling, became highly pensive, and then said either "good" or "not good" after giving up on finding my vocabulary words which appeared to be playing hide-and-seek on me. Sometimes I accidentally put in German words. I waved my teach-yourself Swedish book at her and showed her what chapter I was on in the hopes that she would telepathically know all the details of my Swedish level. She seemed to consider. In what I saw by her expression was a long shot in her opinion, she got out a little book and opened it to a short text in Swedish and made me read it out loud. I did, and then she asked me if I had understood. Actually I understood everything. But I forgot the word for everything and so instead I nodded my head vigorously and showed my teeth. Then I went into an excited monologue about how 2/3 of Swedish words are encrypted German ones, except for my recent experience with the Swedish names of flora and fauna, these being entirely Swedish. Of which she understood: ZERO. Why did such a nice, intelligent lady understand only 0.00 percent? Because my monologue sounded something like this:
"Swedish and German like, very like. I know word Swedish sound German can we say 75 of 100? Yes, yes, you know? But some not like, these...(long pause as I look out the window searching for words) these, you know? (The light of understanding did not cross her face, and I saw I would have to plow forward.) Yes, ah, eh, some Swedish word not like German: these NATURE."
I will cut short my reminiscences of this interlude now. But let's just say there was considerably more time spent trying to get across what I meant by "nature".
So that was a little embarrassing. She pointed to a couple of words in the text and asked me what they meant instead, and miraculously I was able to begin to get across to her that I knew the meanings. Because of my vigorous head-nodding. At least she saw that I was TRYING to express that I understood even if I couldn't paraphrase them.
So then she consulted a computer and told me I could start SFI classes some time in the middle of next week, since they were all full at the moment. She gave me a piece of paper with the number of the office so that I could call and find out which school had a place. Then she told me I'd have a short written test in the other room.
We went to a big room with many desks where many people of many nationalities were sitting and taking tests. Along the side were computer stations, where one or two people seemed to be taking computerized tests. She explained to me very slowly and clearly that there were three topics for a writing sample, and that I only need pick ONE, NOT all three, as if it were really common for students not to understand that. And I'm sure is is common. I thanked her, and she left, saying goodbye and that I didn't need to come back to her when I was done. She left my file with the teacher at the front of the room.
So the test was easy. Just what's your name, where are you from. I was sort of giddy at how easy it was, and got a bit fancy, just for fun. For the writing topic, I chose "Describe a trip you have taken". I decided to describe my first trip to Sweden. I got very involved in it, biting my pencil and forgetting everyone in the room. I carefully only used Swedish phrases that I had painstakingly memorized from my grammar book and from pop lyrics, but with different nouns. I talked about how I had been nervous to come to Sweden because I loved THS, but was worried that I might not like his country, and what would become of our love then?! I must say, it was heartrending. Very heartrending.
I handed in my test rather proudly and was already on my way out the door when the teacher came and gave me ANOTHER test. I thought, "Okay, the test was longer than I thought," and sat down again. This time it was reading comprehension. It was a news story about a robbery. So I filled that out, teaching myself the meanings of words by their contexts. It took me a long time, but I did it too, feeling pretty confident I understood everything, and really pressing myself to flip things this way and that so that I could answer questions properly. (Something I've learned over the years: use tests against themselves! Most of the information you need to get a test right is contained within the test. Few tests are tests of knowledge, most are logic problems. The key is time -- you're dead if the test has a time limit. This one didn't). I turned it in, and the teacher glanced at it and then gave me two MORE worksheets to fill out, with two more texts to read, and another little essay to write. At that point, I realized the things I was being asked to do were getting harder.
It was while I was filling these ones out (now it was about the medicinal benefits of white onions, and a woman thief who swallowed all the jewels she stole), that I realized that there were three teachers at the front now, and they were talking to each other and looking at me. Getting nervous, I handed in these tests, and just then yet another teacher came in, this one very sharp, strict, and brisk looking, obviously some kind of authority. I couldn't understand everything they said, but a nice looking teacher said to me, "Your Swedish level was very bad in the interview," and she gestured at my file, "but you write extremely well and you don't have any problem with these comprehension tests." I looked at them, and didn't know what to say. Literally. So I said all I could say in Swedish: " I know German." I thought a light of understanding would cause their eyes to sparkle then, but no such luck. Apparently many Swedes do not consider their language similar to German. Probably only something they'd find out if they happened to study the language.
I was handed yet another test by a young teacher, but then the authority figure began to say something, and a discussion ensued. I didn't get everything, pretending to be busy with my new test, but what I managed to understand was:
"Have her do it."
"No, but if she can't speak, it won't help."
"It doesn't matter, speaking, she can learn."
The test I had in my hand was pulled back out of it. I was steered toward one of the computers, and sat down in front of it. Even once I was sitting there they continued to argue over me. I tried to look as innocent and David Copperfieldish as possible.
Finally with a clack of her heels, the boss teacher turned and went out loudly and forcefully. It seemed I was to stay at the computer. I looked at the screen and saw that it was the national test. 2 hours and 15 minutes. Aaaghhhii! I had already been taking tests for two hours! I was hungry and thirsty. But I'm so timid, I didn't want to rock the boat or have to expose my inability to talk Swedish by trying to ask in Swedish for a food break.
And yes, I had finally met my match. This test was timed. AND I was hungry and impatient. AND it was incredibly hard. There was a listening comprehension part that made you listen to Swedish radio. The essay questions for the writing part gave you a choice of topics like, "What if the world's oil supply were to be exhausted?" and "How might our society best organize elder care?"
I took the test for a long time. There was a reading comprehension part where I NEVER did manage to figure out ANYTHING about the topic. Finally, the room that had been full when I came in was empty. It seemed to be getting dark outside. All the teachers were gone. The boss woman with her clicking heels and brisk speech came back eventually. She asked how it was going. I said something like, "It...too...haard...for...me..." She told me they were closing. She took me into her office.
She was the kind of person who always sounded angry even when saying kind things, so it took me a while to figure out that she was saying that no matter how I did on the test, it was simply very good for me that I had taken it, in light of having little background with Swedish.
Then she looked at my results on her computer. She congratulated me because apparently I got a perfect score on listening comprehension. But the other stuff was abysmal. As expected. She said many things very quickly then. I got that she had decided I was a "fast learner" and that she had a school for me where I should start monday where they had classes for flexible, speedy learners. Then she handed me a sheet of paper, and I saw that I wasn't being sent to SFI at all anymore, but something called SAS, which appears -- now that I've had time to research it -- to be preparation for university study in Swedish.
The ironic thing is that my Swedish wasn't even good enough to understand where I was supposed to go on Monday morning, and I was so intimidated by my new persona as "the girl who knows Swedish" that I was ashamed to ask, because I picked up that she had already said it more than once.
So now I have to get up early on Monday and call. Jeez.
And who knows how much of a disaster this class will be when I show up -- the deaf, dumb, wonder girl.
The good thing is that whereas Swedish has been a play-language for me up til now, suddenly after that string of never-ending tests and interactions, it's all deadly earnest. (To my addled brain at least.)
posted by Ida at 9:06 AM
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