An American Girl in Avignon

Today is April Fool’s Day, or le Jour du Poisson d’Avril, which is literally translated as “the fish of April” in French. April Fools in France is vraiment un peu bizarre. For example, the “blagues” or jokes, played on people consist of secretly sticking a fish on someone’s back and then shouting, “le possion d’avril.” Kind of strange, but hey, to each, his own. I do think that it is neat how in France the newspapers and television networks participate in les blagues by posting fake, outlandish headlines and reporting bizarre happenings like UFO sightings, or GASP, a train being late (which never happens here),just for laughs. Monsieur M. told me that the media would not be participating in the jokes this year due to la grève (university strike) and the fragile state of the economy. This was my wake up call to the changing times. It’s a little scary, but I have faith that things will improve.

On a side note, I am slowly but surely starting to bond with my host family. There still is a feeling of awkwardness and distance, but this is getting better with each passing day. For example, before Kristina and I went out last night, Monsieur M. told us to be careful and have some “nice” boys walk us home for safety reasons. He then told us in a soft, serious tone that we probably wouldn’t have to worry about things like “Chicago gangsters” (where my roommate lives) while we were here. It took a lot of self control for me not to burst out in laughter after he said this. I am starting to get a glimpse of his personality, and he really is quiet funny and very kind. He will randomly start talking about things that have nothing to do with anything and then go off on a tangent about French history and customs…and talk and talk and talk and then talk some more – all without stopping for breath. It is really quite amusing. I still am trouble understanding the family’s speech, especially when we are at the dinner table and they start talking amongst themselves. Their conversation resembles the teacher from the Charlie Brown cartoons “Wha Wha Wha wha wha.” Complete jibberish – and all in a provencal accent! For now, I am just sticking to nodding my head, smiling, and saying simple phrases like “oui.” They probably think I am a complete idiot.

Some other quick notes or random thoughts about France/Avignon: French boys are forward to the point of obnoxiousness, but on a positive note, dress really (and I mean really) well. If you go out at night, you get cat-called around every corner. If I hear, “Vous êtes une joile fille, américaine, n’est-ce pas? » one more time, I am going to bop someone over the head with a baguette. It is so creepy, and as soon as they find out you are an American, they suddenly get really interested. I discovered this was because they think Americans are easy. Sad, but true. I don’t like that at all.

Oh, and the staring here is so weird. You know how in the United States when you catch someone staring at you, you may hold contact for like a second more, but then quickly look away. Well here, they just keep staring! There is no faux pas in openly and blatantly staring at someone. Now, I enjoy my fair share of people watching and crowd scanning, but this is to the point of uncomfort. Must be a European thing… I remember reading in our culture shock book that staring is like an open invitation, or a “come hither” here, and eye contact in public is discouraged. What am I supposed to do? Stare at the ground everywhere I go and get killed by a passing moped?! I don’t think so…it has already almost happened too many times as is.

Random thought: I got really bored the other night and decided to name my journal we are required to write in (in French). I christened him Jean-Pierre. Very French, huh?

Oh, we had an excursion this morning to the Palais de Papes. It was absolutely gorgeous. I had no idea that Avignon was such an important religious center during the Middle Ages and had such a good reputation for theatre. It is unfortunate that I have to leave this place before the grand theatre festival in July; I would have liked to have seen that. We also went to the Point d’Avignon, a bridge overlooking the Rhone, for a few photos. After our excursion and grabbing lunch on the street (baguette sandwiches and steak frites…absolute lifesavers for Americans abroad!), Kyle, Adam, and I stopped at the market before coming back to my place, so they could use the internet, of course, and take naps..lol (We were out late after all). After the internet, I went with them back to their house before our shopping adventure at H&M.

I have to say that even though they live so far away from the school, I was jealous of their “humble abode in China.” Their house was everything I imagined French homes to be. It was a cute stone cottage alongside a charming garden tucked behind the back door with a studio adjacent to the main house (where Kyle lived). The décor was classic French country: a lot of white and blue accents and crystal chandeliers in most of the rooms. It was absolutely gorgeous. Their host mom, Danielle, was amazing. I have to say that I was ready to sneak into Kyle’s studio and live there the rest of the trip after meeting and speaking with her. As Adam accurately described, “I am living with my grandmother.” She does their laundry for them, cooks, puts chocolates on their pillows, packs their lunches, fixes coffee and breakfast cakes for them in the morning, always makes sure they don’t leave the house without a jacket, and makes their beds. They are living like spoiled little grandchildren! Okay, I admit that I am a little jealous. She is so friendly and easy to talk to and understand as well. The funniest part about their living situation are the random reminders posted around their rooms with instructions saying “remember to put the seat down, gentlemen,” “wash your hands,” or “clean your hair out of the shower after you use it.” It is hysterical.

While Kyle and I waited for Adam to finish showering, Danielle, their host mom showed us the strand of dragon fly lights she bought to string across her garden’s trees. While trying to assemble the lights, she casually tossed the instructions aside, explaining that the French never read directions, they just do things. I found out later that she ended up breaking her new purchase. C’est la vie.

My next stop was shopping at H&M. We desperately needed some chic French clothes to go out on the town in, so we all went to faire un peu de shopping ensemble. I think Kyle and Adam are officially my designated shopping buddies. They are the kind of friends that encourage you to buy something, when you know you shouldn’t. They’re bad influences (in a good way), but je serai à la mode!