Who Here Loves A Good Standardized Test?

Well, a weight has finally been lifted from my shoulders. Last Friday, I took Le Test de Connaissance du Français as part of my TAPIF (Teaching Assistant Program in France) application. Most people applying have the luxury of just sending a college transcript with a few years of French courses and a recommendation from a French professor and call it a day, but since all of my French courses were in either high school with the incomparable Mme. Donley or in independent language insitutes (shout out to Jordan, Mouda and Julia at Fluent City in New York!), I have to take another route: standardized testing. What fun.

The TCF is like any other standardized test with time limits, multiple choice questions, lots of pressure, and bubble sheets. I arrived at the French Aliance about a half hour early since I had never been to the northern branch in Cali, and they seemed pretty strict about not showing up even a minute late, a refreshing change of pace in Colombia. After I had checked in, I felt myself starting to get nervous. The big day had finally come. But I knew my nerves would be a surefire way to sabotage, so I turned on some Coeur de Pirate. Because I challenge anyone to keep stressing out with that cute little voice singing in your ears. And sat there, waiting for the next thirty minutes, watching other people arrive for their tests, all of us collectively freaking out but unsuccessfully trying to play it cool.

At 8:45 a.m., we were allowed to enter the room. And by we, I mean me and one other guy. Apparently everyone else was taking the TCFQ. Why? I have no idea. I guess Quebec should be prepared for a Colombian invasion because there were quite a few people taking it and it's only good for immigration applications to Quebec.

When he entered, I greeted my companion in Spanish, and he greeted me back in French, so I made the only possible conclusion I could from his "Bonjour:" "Oh shit, this guy's probably like fluent and shit. What the hell am I doing here?" But I had already relinquished my cellphone to the proctor and with it, Béatrice Martin's voice. So I did the only thing I could think to do: I counted my breaths. Applied Buddhism.

The proctor, who was quite friendly and strangely familiar, explained that the oral section would be first.

Aw, shit....

I wish I could tell you how I did, but it really all a blur. Actually, the moments I remember where when I became a bit unfocused, wasn't listening to the clip (which we only get to hear once) and kicked myself as I let my subconscious guide my pen to whatever answer magically seemed right, like a kind of French dowsing. I had practiced this section before on Radio France International's website, but I didn't realize how fast paced it would be. My strategy of being able to skim the choices before listening went out the window about every other question, and I can't really tell you how I think it went. Maybe that's a small mercy on some nameless guardian angel's part; I'm prone to mental flagellation.

After that was a quasi-grammar section, which I suppose went alright, and then reading comprehension, which was pretty easy, relatively. Suprisingly, the guy who had inadvertantly intimidated me into nothingness with one word couldn't finish the reading comprehension. When the proctor called the end of the test, I was casually checking my answers, and he had begun to beg for more time. And I remembered how useless it is to go around comparing yourself to other people.

I left the test feeling "okay," which is acceptable considering that the questions ranged in difficulty from A1 to C2 on the Common European Framework. Since my evaluation at the Alliance put me at B1.2 and my aim for this test was B2, quite naturally, some of it was going to be out of my reach. Now I have to wait between one and two months to see if this feeling is justified. Those were the two difference answers I got when I asked how long they would take.

Now that this test, which has been looming over me for months, is over, I'm looking forward to my new freedom. Up to now, and since about the time I arrived in Cali, I have been taking almost two hours of classes Monday through Friday at 6 a.m., meaning I wake up around 4 a.m. every day. (See also: dedication.) Then in the course of the day, I have been doing two hours of practice, mostly listening comprehension. Lather, rinse, repeat for two months. But no more, folks. Sweet freedom. More time to explore Cali and Colombia. But what do?... I hear there's a cafe in San Antonio playing French movies every night this months.