On one side, my experience with university in Canada is pretty good. First, I hope that eventually I will be able to complete a Canadian degree, even if the goal seems to be very far away. Second, it helps me keep a balance with my crazy work environment. Culturally speaking, it is also interesting to see how things are taught on this side of the Atlantic Ocean: perspectives, especially on economics, history and politics are quite different from Europe’s.

The more I attend classes at university, the more I feel like I belong in a museum. The big museum of failed and forgotten ideals. Move along, nothing to see here.

The Winter semester started early January, but I can’t seem to put myself into study mode. First, there is my very full-time job. I work in an environment where futile things such as eating and sleeping are almost frowned upon, let alone studying. And then, there is the usual winter blues. Hard to walk to class after a full day of work when it’s cold, windy and pitch black.

I have always been fascinated by North American high schools and universities. They seemed to have so many rituals, so many traditions that I felt we were really missing out in France. Take graduation, for instance. One of the rite of passage in France is the “baccalauréat”, the national high school graduation exam. But it quite different from the North America graduation exam.

My oral exam lasted exactly three minutes. It may have something to do with the fact I wrote in big bold letter “I am French !” in answer to the question “where did you learn French?” in the preliminary questionnaire. The examiner was a nice guy and admitted there was no point in testing me any further. Phew, thanks.