By Nicole Solis  December 14th, 2009 8:23 am  |  Comments (2)

Lost in translation.

In our December/January 2010 issue, Tim Moynihan reviews three iPhone phrasebook apps that can help you talk like a local in the places you visit. But what if you want to learn more than just the basics? There’s an almost intimidating quantity of books, CDs, podcasts, websites, and, yes, smartphone apps that can try to teach you a language. Here are a few resources to start with, as you look for the right method.

• The Telegraph’s round-up of various French instruction CDs. Cassandra Jardine organizes her favorite instructional CDs into helpful categories like Best Quick-Fix and Most Comphrehensive, so you can choose the method that fits your interest and, let’s be honest, degree of procrastination. Many of these companies offer the same method in a variety of languages, so choose the approach that suits you best, then see if your language is available.
• iTunes podcasts. In addition to the apps we reviewed, the iTunes store has a wide variety of free instructional podcasts in many different languages and for many different levels. In the iTunes store, go to Podcasts, Education, and then Language Course. Two good ones to try are Daily FrenchPod (or French for Beginners, if you don’t already speak French) or PukkaGerman. (Note: These links will take you to the iTunes store.)
  Read through the reviews to see if the podcast is right for your learning style and language level.
  
• BBC Languages. The Beeb’s extensive online language section has 12-week beginning language online courses, audio and video instruction, phrases of the day, articles on cultural traditions in various countries, and other resources. If you want to put your newfound language skills to use, follow the links to foreign-language television and online video.

Photo by eatatmarks, CC 2.0.

By Jeremy Saum  September 2nd, 2009 8:00 am  |  Comments (4)

That's what I'm talking about. Oh, wait. No berets.

“Quaint” is one word you’re unlikely to see on the pages of Afar. We like to ask our writers to find original ways to describe a place, and that word’s been used one thousand too many times to describe destinations. Usually European villages. For me, the word calls to mind stone streets, spires, old men in berets, church bells.

I recently visited  an ersatz European village set at the bottom of a ski hill in Colorado. It had everything a real village would have—even a Quiksilver surf store. From what I can gather, it was built in the late 1960s.  Its planners were clearly going for insta-quaint.

It got me thinking about the essence of quaintness. Can something be quaint from the moment it’s built? Is there a certain number of years a something has to exist before it enters the realm of quaintness? Is a Beijing hutong as quaint as a French village, or is there something European about quaintness?

As I said, you likely won’t find “quaint” in our magazine. So this blog is our only chance to discuss. What does quaint mean to you? What’s the quaintest place you’ve ever been?

Photo by Lynn. CC 3.0.

By Jeremy Saum  July 23rd, 2009 11:01 am  |  Comments (1)

In the Talk department of Afar’s premier issue, you can read about how Czechs believe in the creative power of laziness. The great Adam Gopnik, in this essay from the New Yorker’s Innovators Issue (registration required to read the full story), thinks they might have it right.

Touching on disposable razors, medieval mousetraps (and lack thereof), booklights, candles, peacocks, starfish (which reproduce “as Brad and Angelina seem to, by mere proximity”), and Prince’s mustache, he discusses the idea that it’s not competition that drives innovation, but leisure and abundance: “Once we no longer have to pressure our bodies to chew and hunt, the big heads behind them, having nothing to do, start doing what they please.” He also questions whether innovation is always a good thing: “The peacock with its tail and buzzing batteries is dying. The starfish, by candlelight, inherits the earth.”

Plenty of material for a good discussion with friends, preferably over a drink. You just might experience what the Czechs call pohoda.