An American Girl in Avignon

Today (Monday, March 30) was the official commencement of classes at the University of Avignon. While everyone else was huffing and puffing up Jeff Hill, I was busy dodging boxy European cars on a way-too-small sidewalk in some Provencal back alley.

We were asked to arrive at the university at noon for an aperitif with our professors. Yes, I know what you are thinking, they allowed us to drink with our families and professors over fancy finger foods. This is Provence, France after all; these people drink wine like it is water. Kristina and I had some problems finding the university, sad considering that Paul (our host “brother”) had taken us on a small tour of the city the afternoon before and that we live one street over from the school. In our defense, I swear that all the streets and alleys here look identical!

Once finding the school, we were shocked to discover that there were signs for la grève (the strike) covering the gates and walls. Students were protesting in the school’s courtyard, but the French version of a protest is quite different from an American one. The French students around sat outside and listened to music as if to attempt an entertaining sit-in; heck, they even played Chris Brown. There was graffiti everywhere and signs with contrasting opinions like “save the university,” or “let the university die.” It was so bizarre and a little eerie. The “blockade” in front of the university was a parted mound of stacked desks with students sitting on the sides of the wide, direct path to the main door in-between the desks. Given that this strike has been going on for 2 months, and not a single college student in France has had class, (they probably have been visiting McDonald’s for some of that good chocolate mousse, because I always see them when we are in there) I am beginning to question the motivation of actually returning to school for these students. The strike, if I haven’t already mentioned, concerns the national policy that makes a higher education accessible to almost everyone. The issue is that the system may change to make college more expensive, like in the United States, so the students decided not to go to class as a form of protest. The strike is proving to be more problematic than effective, because absolutely nothing is being done to stop it. It’s kind of ridiculous, and I wish it would end soon, because I would like to meet some French college students. Another issue is the professor’s pay and qualifications. I felt horrible when Monsieur M. told us the reason that they kept their house at sub-zero and wanted us to conserve energy (by not taking long showers and always turning off the lights) was because they were trying to save money. I think he has been out of a job since the university went on strike on account that he was in Paris when Kristina and I arrived…and the fact that Paul mentioned something about them moving back to Paris if his dad decided to transfer to a university there. I feel so grateful that even though the family was struggling, they were kind enough to take me and Kristina into their home. I have been very blessed on this trip indeed; I need to be more appreciative. They are always willing to help, offer travel advice, and make sure we are well fed and well taken care of. The more time I spend getting to know them, the more I understand their behavior and customs. They truly are wonderful people. I am also beginning to feel more comfortable here with them and miss home a little less each day.

Our aperitif with the families and the professors was really nice. There were three kinds of wine to choose from: rose, red, and white – all from Provence, bien sûr. Although the food was excellent, aside from the weird thing they called an omlet (which was some jelly-like meatloaf concoction of vegetables and eggs that tasted like glue), I really had no clue what I was eating. The only thing I recognized that I placed in my mouth was fruit and bread; sometimes it’s better just not to know. For example, I think the dinner we ate tonight was liver and onions, but I’m not sure. Marianne, our “mom,” told Kristina and me the word for the dish in French, but of course, I couldn’t understand what she said.
Our first class was upstairs with Christophe. French 343: Grammaire avec M. Corbin. Although I had my doubts and fears, mainly out of intimidation, he turned out to be an excellent, clear, and understanding professor. I think I am going to like this class a lot since I am such a grammar nerd, but I am a little worried about the three plays we have to read. I attempted to read our 50 page assignment at one in the morning (bad idea), and I didn’t understand the context du tout. (Today (Tuesday) in class, it sounds like no one else did either.) We also had a ton of tedious homework in our grammar books. I know this course is going to be a challenge, but in a good way.

After two hours of French grammar, my head was spinning. The class offered next was about the WWII French Resistance. I am currently taking 20 credit hours this spring if one counts ML250B, which I am taking for 4 credits. The Resistance class is very advanced and lasts four hours on Monday and two on Thursday. I think I may decide to audit the course, because if I take it for actual credit, I know I will stress myself out au cause de la pressure. Plus, I would be over the maximum credit limit. Yet, I feel like in order to improve my French skills, I may need a challenging course like that to push myself. I am going to think long and hard about what to do about this class over the next few days. I may sit in on Thursday just to see.

After class, I went school supplies shopping with Kyle, Katie, and Sakinah on the main drag, and yes, we stopped at McDonalds again for more chocolate mousse and coffee (hey, it’s good and cheap, and I’m broke). I couldn’t believe how much our school supplies cost! I also bought toiletries, bottles of water, and a baguette and experienced some major sticker shock. Everything here is so expensive. I am going to have to start lining up another summer job as soon as possible to pay for all of these expenses. It’s not as if I am buying worthless things either. I didn’t buy any souvenirs in Paris aside from a scarf, a jacket (it was so cold), and two postcards. It’s amazing how these little “necessities” add up, and temptations (such as bakeries, clothing stores, souvenir shops, and cafes) are everywhere!

After returning to the house and allowing Kyle some much-needed internet time, I unpacked my stuff and got ready to go downstairs and enjoy some French TV before dinner with Paul and Claire Montine (the two teenagers). Well, the family was watching the Simpsons again, so Kristina and I laughed amongst ourselves at the different voices of the familiar characters speaking in French. We secretly got a kick out of the subtitles every time there was an English word in the scene. The French news and commercials were interesting as well. Being a journalism major, I enjoyed watching the news and listening to the radio in French. The commercials (publicites) here are very different as well; advertisements for things like orange juice are somehow sexualized…oh, those Europeans. I also noted that in between each commercial there was a short pause with an advertisement for the network flashing across the screen. I assume that they want you to be sure what network is bringing your nouvels (news).

Tomorrow is going to be interesting considering it will be filled with 6 hours of French classes…and that I haven’t done my homework and it is almost one in the morning here. Zut, alors; I have to improve my sleeping habits! Even though I am exhausted, I am definitely going out tomorrow night; I need a break. À bientôt.