Author Archives: Amber

Assessment of the Delft Method of Second Language Teaching

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The following essay is a school assignment for a course called ‘History of English Language Teaching‘ which is given by one of my favourite teachers. Indeed, I count myself amongst the very lucky to have a teacher of this quality. (I am not saying who, or else you will all be over here and I’d have to share his time with even more people…!)

Purpose of the essay is to investigate the underlying purpose and validation of a particular style of teaching, and establish if it is a method or merely an approach. Furthermore, I honed down the central issue of my investigation to include a notion of whether this method was appropriate in its specific context and with regard to the target group it aims at.

‘Assessing the DELFT METHOD of Language Learning in its appropriate and specific context’ by Amber Nowak

What is the Delft Method’?

The Delft Method was initially developed by lecturers at the Technical University in Delft, the Netherlands, in the early 1980s as a method by which foreign students could quickly learn Dutch as a foreign language in order to study and survive in Holland. The motivation for this was that it would thus allow foreign students to study effectively and participate in the country’s culture, rather than be isolated in smaller cultural groups all of the same origins. A new method – the Delft Method – was designed especially to meet these requirements. The method itself focusses mainly on productive language skills (speaking and writing), which are learned through use of the target language only. It soon became popular because it proved to be effective and because its content was known for its simplicity and clarity. (Makkink 2007)

The method focuses on acquiring grammar and language structure through texts chosen for their strong cultural focus in a Dutch cultural environment. The lessons emphasise listening and speaking skills, and the texts are designed to improve knowledge about the Netherlands at the same time. The emphasis lies in speaking, in transferring meaning, paraphrasing and using discourse to arrive at an agreement in meaning, in other words, the emphasis lies in language performance, in oppose to language competence in the given target language (English) (Canale&Swaine1980)

The Delft Method is typically one of high work load. The student is expected to be able to focus on a full-day course for a period of six months. It could be compared to the sheltered model used in America to prepare foreign students for studying in English in the United States [Holly Hansen-Thomas 2008].

Using the Delft Method for teaching English Continue reading →

Overall Emotional Experience while eating Pannetone

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It is almost Christmas. The tree is up and colourful and I play ridiculous generic Christmas music of the type you are likely to hear on the escalator in department stores. The up-side of living in Europe around Christmas is being able to buy pannetone everywhere, and we do. I started a stock of beautiful boxes of this divine Italian cake in our office: Some are 500g per piece, others range from 950g to a kilo: they are for friends and relatives, and for work and/or project groups we have been forced to participate in in the last year. Most are elegantly wrapped in hand-made pastoral paper, sealed with a large bow; the label of some Italian family, living in a remote village and advertising that the 110-year-old grandmother is still involved in the leavening stages of their pannetone, is affixed. My husband and I love the stuff. We have gotten through half of the stocks already, and the piece-de-resistance was opened this morning, Sunday the 18th of December, 2011.

We were still in bed when, like expectant children, we unwrapped our delectable morsel (happy that it was only 500 grams, which meant we could eat it all in one go without feeling too guilty). It was my husband’s favourite kind: con uvette e frutti secchi – raisins and dried, candied fruit. Our children were invited to join in, but the fools do not eat raisins, so I made coffee, and there we sat in bed, like two little children absolutely transfixed with the imminent prospect of this delectable pre-Christmas treat.

After the coffee and most of the gorgeously soft pannetone (we wisely left a slither for later) there was time to inspect the little pastoral label, with all the family members in a sepia photograph. Text in Italian and English, all about ‘il corte di Ludovico il Moro’ and the Milanese tradition of ‘pandolce’ (sweet bread) and the tale of honey, natural leaven and the candied fruits, we then stumbled upon a questionnaire at the end: a full 4 pages are dedicated to the degree of enjoyment of the consumer. Did we have a satisfactory visual, taste, tactile and olfactory sensation while eating this pannetone? Were the colour and the structure excellent, or not? Was the taste intense and complex, was the aroma persistent? To add to our relish, each set of questions was accompanied by a rather old-fashioned and unquestionably elegant etching, picturing nose, eye, mouth and hand. And, if you thought that it would all not lead to anything, the ultimate set of questions, of course, regarded one’s “overall emotional experience” and made an inquiry as to factors of ‘pleasantness’, ‘satisfaction’, ‘temptation’ and ‘elegance’.

We were overjoyed with the little questionnaire. Finally there was confirmation as to what we were expected to experience while sitting in bed, eating pannetone. Finally there was a realistic anticipation as to the highest sensational ideals whilst consuming this godly food. Finally, we had met, face to sepia face, the makers, who had the same objective in mind as did we, when eating pannetone. With their little questionnaire, they were looking straight into our souls. Yes, we are fairly uncomplicated people when it comes to Pannetone, a good Italian bean, and a spot of prosecco on a random Sunday, somewhere near Christmas, with or without pyjamas. May life forever be so simple and so overall emotionally gratifying as the Italians meant it to be.

Buon natale a tutti!

Loison Pasticceri Dal 1938 www.loison.com

 

 

My Italian holiday 2011 – Part One ‘The Clothing Boutique’

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The first thing I did when we arrived in Italy was establish that I had not brought enough clothes with me. Not that it is at all very cold there. It is that I am now nearing forty, and am of the firm opinion that I need a different skirt to go with each pair of high heeled shoes I own. Plus a few changes, depending on mood. More often I carry a full change of light clothes in my spacious sisal shopping bag, including matching brassiere. Just in case.

My husband dutifully drove me to the nearest boutique to do the required shopping. He did this at my request, despite it being late morning already, and the threat of the shops closing for lunch was imminent. The shop was situated at the back of a bleak and hot mini-industrial area just outside of Spilimbergo. He took his white gentleman’s hat into his hand as if he were entering a church, and came inside with me.

The personnel in the spacious and cool shop ignored us completely as I flitted efficiently from row to row. I was on a mission. I felt like a grandmother picking her favourite berries and who was extremely pleased with the harvest. My husband waited patiently, advising me here and there. He casually grabbed a pair of shorts for me from the men’s department when I said: “shorts”. Then I did some energetic trying on and changes at the fitting cubicle with the curtain half open so he could see it all. The discarded clothing came flying out like when a bird is cleaning out her nest. The men’s shorts were a hit; a few of the skirts to narrow, others too wide. I was far from done. After a generous half an hour he left the shop to smoke a cigarette in the car park.

The ladies tending to the shop were left in peace. There was no one else in the place, and they eyed me with respectful distance while they folded and tagged items with demure. I didn’t need help. Over the top of racks of lycra blouses with flashing sequins I could see my husband outside, leaning against the car, smoking. That white hat is a flag in the midday sun. Knowing that he was relaxed made me more determined than ever. Leaving no single item in the hall untouched, I finally settled on several skirts, a blouse, some undergarments and the shorts, and paid swiftly by credit card. My Italian was meagre but polite and my gaze unwavering. Very pleased, I marched back out into the car park, now properly set for the holidays.