ça avance?

-ça avance? he asks, knowing what the answer will be.
my african colleague who will soon be leaving for a few months to go teach in his home country. for free.
because he hasn't got his PhD yet.
and because they haven't got anyone else to do it.
he's talking about my writing a first draft of a first chapter of ...and working on his own.
we're partners in crime.
or friends in shared misery - whatever.
so he knows what the answer will be: a lot of things are making progress, but the writing? not really. sorry. how are you?
- ça va
ça avance? knowing what the answer will be
- ... (if looks could kill...)
i'm grinning, secretly thinking 'haha, your writing is not going anywhere either', and trying to keep myself from doing it.
out of solidarity we really shouldn't do this to eachother.
he gives me a cramped smile
- mieux de savoir qu'il y a des autres qui ont les mêmes problèmes, non?
so right. and he's leaving in a few weeks.
then it'll just be me answering people it's really not going anywhere or at least not fast enough.
easiest way to make any PhD-student feel bad: oh, i'm, well, i'm ok. but how about you, how's the writing going, making any progress?
bastards. bâtards...