Category: Reminiscents

No Speak Français

arthurcortez on

First off the bat, the language barrier was definitely one of the biggest challenges I faced during this experience. Yes, I anticipated that there was the presence of the French in Montréal and I did my time learning it back in Melbourne (admittedly, with Duolingo). Also admittedly, I found the idea of learning a whole new language completely tedious, especially when the language called for a completely different enunciation skill set that I was used to.

10377006_10153159191861886_5281272003526528014_nPrior to Montréal, I’d been able to pass off my travels with languages that I had known for life; English and Tagalog. My initial thought before leaving Australia: Pffftt! Everyone speaks English. I only really need French if I wanted to impress locals. Though that was mostly the case, it wasn’t always. For some reason, I was the only one out of the people I knew who had come across Quebecor locals incapable of speaking English, and I’ve had to play the whole grunt and point routine.

What’s worse was that a majority of my roommates were French, and spring BBQs meant me standing in the corner, trying to pick up on the joke that had everybody laughing, screwing my brain really hard for the grammar that I had picked up in the 3-4 months of my elementary French course. Yet, this did not put me off wanting to learn.

Being the clueless person at the parties that I was only motivated me to persist in my language education and work further on my French even when I have returned to Australia. It has only made me realise how necessary language is in sorting out differences and making personal connections with strangers, and has given me a new passion to look forward to on my return home. I mean who knows…maybe once I am able to speak English, Tagalog and French, I can also pick up some Spanish lessons…

J’espère bien!

Gone Girl

arthurcortez on

Despite being a young ‘un living in modern Melbourne, I often find myself lagging with trends and this one in particular is the positivity surrounding David Fincher’s Gone Girl, adapted from Gillian Flynn’s novel. Having seen it last night with a fresh mind and a happy belly, I gone-girl-DF-01826cc_rgb.jpgwas absolutely absorbed into Nick Dunne’s plight, battling the media frenzy accusing him of murdering his missing wife. The plot’s Psycho-esque turnaround halfway through the film, during which Rosamund Pike’s Amy reveals her whereabouts and her psychopathic methods of spicing up her marriage, leaves the audience flabbergasted by the audacity of her character’s pure evilness. For once, paying customers are batting for the happiness of an Affleck character, no longer criticising him for performance (cough Daredevil and Batman?). Although yes, one would roll their eyes at Nick’s naivete smiling for the cameras, taking selfies with random female strangers and continuing her adulterous relationship with a student; on second thought, these moments of stupidity are somewhat realistic for the modern married man. Despite leaving the theatre very content with what I had just taken in, I was left wanting more with the cliffhanger ending, and though I haven’t read the novel myself (and trust me, I’ve downloaded the audiobook right after seeing the film), I was hoping for more than a one-sided manipulation game between wife and husband. I wanted to see Nick and Amy go into a sociopathic showdown destroying each other’s credibility. I cannot wait to begin the audiobook experience, not just to compare and contrast the adaptation differences between film and novel, but to clarify uncertainties that would’ve been left out deliberately such as Amy’s baby’s paternity–the only humane reason why Nick Dunne wasn’t going to kill his wife. Despite my thirst for content, I was satisfied with the ending, as it was the only way to preserve the characters’ motivations. A true sacrificing hero, good man Nick Dunne would endure living with his psychotic wife to bear a child which, would inevitably be, the spawn of the She-devil.

FIVE STARS.

Doubts

arthurcortez on

I came across this video on TIME Magazine and felt compelled to share it.

I still remember the days when I was a carefree kid living on the outskirts of Manila. As the only child (and only grandchild for eight years), I was quite the pampered [not-so-] little prince at home. My grandparents’ apartment complex was my palace, the neighbours were all my friends and my nannies were my second mothers. We can truthfully assume that criticism from other people is part of growing up, in whatever aspect of our humanity–appearance, intelligence, cultural origin, even religion. It is these bullies that we ourselves would have assumed the role of at some point, who break down our confidence in adulthood and act as anchors to unlocking our potential.

It is important to look back to these times of innocence, not to retain it for ourselves, but to perpetuate a kid’s passion for life.