An American Girl in Avignon

Yesterday morning I woke up in a furry to finish my history homework, noticing that my alarm clock had not gone off…again. I need to get that checked. Rushing and running from the bathroom, to the kitchen, to the desk in our room to finish before class, I yelled for my roommate to get up, thinking that we were going to be very late – again. Sad, considering how close we are to the school when it is held at its originally assigned location, but hey, it happens. Power walking to class, homework in hand, we arrived (late of course) only to find the rest of the class waiting for us outside. Instead of class today, we would be having a walking tour in town. No homework turn-in necessary.

The weather was perfect for walking, and after our educational tour of our home away from home, I spilt to quickly grab some lunch before going back to the house. I needed to finish the paper I had procrastinated on, due via e-mail that afternoon. I stopped at a snack shop for a sandwich, and as soon as I opened my mouth, the owner said, “Tu es américaine, n’est-ce pas?” They always know: it’s the accent. He then started pointing to the pictures of LA, New York, and Chicago that were posted on the walls of the café, confessing that the only other places he had heard of in the United States were Flordia (Disney World and Miami) and Texas (Bush). When I told him I was from Ohio, he just nodded, and said, “Is that in New York?” Safe to say that Ohio doesn’t have as much resonance here as the Big Apple or Hollywood. It’s funny to be thought of as an American here, because most French people think of one thing when they hear USA: New York City. This city, and shows like “Desperate Housewives,” which our host dad watches religiously :), are their perceptions of Americans and America. I’m always sorry to disappoint them when I tell them I am from a suburb of Dayton, and not anywhere exciting like LA.

Thankfully, I finished my paper in time to go to class and run home just in time for Kristina and I to make pancakes for ourselves and Monsieur M and Paul before going out that night. Alas, we finally got our pancakes! We figured it was best to exit on a good note, if we were going to leave at all. You want to avoid burning any bridges at all costs. It was really awkward when the director of the program called (while Monsieur was away). I think all of my normally bodily functions stopped for a minute as Kristina and I looked at each other in a panic! We still hadn’t officially told them we were leaving yet (wanted to make sure we had someplace else to go before doing this and to do so in a professional manner), so we feared the worst. Luckily, I was able to call him before and inform him of this. Thank God, because we would have been scared to return home that night if I hadn’t gotten a hold of him! So, we met today and talked the situation over with our leaders. He is making a telephone call to arrange a meeting at the house tomorrow. All we can do now is hope and pray that things work out smoothly.

We saw the film “Coco avant Chanel” at a local theatre, all in French of course, before going to the Red Sky. The movie had a charming artistic flair, a characteristic of French cinema (think “Marie Antoinette,” “La Vie en Rose,” and “Paris, Je t’Aime”), and was very touching. I had no idea that Coco Chanel had such a rough childhood and life. It just goes to show you that some of the most extraordinary people can rise above the worst of circumstances. Not wanting to stay out too late (we had an excursion the next morning), we only went to the pub for a little while before turning it in to make our very healthy lunch for the next day: Nutella and banana sandwiches. So bad for you, yet so good…

Today, we had an excursion to three places in Provence: the Boires, the Gordes, and Roussillon. The first stop after our hour long bus ride was Boires. When we arrived, I was surprised to find out that Boires was nothing more than a bunch of stone huts up on a hill. But, it was pretty neat to see, and the weather was perfect today, so that made the pile of architectural rocks we were looking at much more enjoyable. Don’t get me wrong, it was fun, and the view was breathtaking from the village. Good pit stop.

After this, we stopped at Gordes, the town made famous in the novel A Year in Provence, for lunch and exploring. I now understand why this town is so famous: it was absolutely stunning. Though the hike up the side of the hill was exhausting. Biggest stair master on Planet Earth! The view, and the city, were both worth that hike, as well as the fresh strawberries we bought from the local market. That’s one thing I love about France: you’re never short of finding good, local, fresh produce. Best euro I spent in Europe, bien sûr. (The small basket was a costly four, but split four ways, we were all able to enjoy the fresh fruit of Provence…for a more reasonable price). After some browsing and enjoying the sights, the bus took us to Roussillon, a town with yummy lavender and violet ice cream and a miniature grand canyon.

What fascinates me about France is that even though the country can fit inside the state of Texas, there are many different climates and varied terrains found here. We went from one extreme to the other: lush, green vineyard-covered hillsides to desert-like conditions with pine trees and red dirt. The red dirt that is naturally found in Roussillon is called “ocres,” and all of the buildings in the village have a reddish tint to them, since they are made out of this natural red dust material. The mini Grand Canyon type place is called the Sentiers and was worth the 2.5 euros we spent to walk around and get our feet dirty. Watch your clothes and shoes if you are planning on going here, or else they may be permanently stained an orangey-red color from the ocres.

Gorgeous, gorgeous, gorgeous. If I am a millionaire one day, I am going to build a mansion in the hills of Provence…XXX