An American Girl in Avignon
Friday, April 10, 2009
Apprendre avec les étudiants
April 9-10 2009
Wow. Today/Yesterday was a learning experience. Talking about the French education system made me feel incompetent about my previous knowledge. It was just that: I realized that I knew, nor really cared (shamefully enough), next-to-nothing about politics before coming here. I was…still am a little…naive. I had preconceived notions about what France was going to be like: some sort of European oasis across the sea where people sit in the sun, sipping on red wine, while enjoying every little bit of life. The fantasy of a country filled with the glitz and the glamour one commonly associates with such a romanticized place as France, known for its cuisine, cologne, champagne, wine, and couture, is slowly becoming a darker reality. Sometimes it takes analyzing another country’s education and political systems to make you really understand your own. Every country has its flaws, and its benefits, and it has been quite a journey discovering which of these things are present back home. I am trying to keep an open heart and open mind during my stay here, so learning about a country’s education system is a good place to start.
Well…false alarm. The eight week long grève wasn’t over. It was over for the week, and except for Thursday, all students would resume class (something they hadn’t done for the past six weeks). If this just sounds confusing to you, well…it is. I still don’t (and never will) understand all there is to know about la grève, but here’s what I do know: It was declared last week that from now on the students at every university across the country would vote if they are or aren’t going to class that week, and on which days. At first, hearing this sounds completely ridiculous, but at the same time makes one realize how widespread the issue is. I am beginning to slowly comprehend that there is more to la grève than meets the eye. On a surface level, it just seems like these students are wasting time and government money by not going to class, but there is a much bigger issue at hand.
Our professor gave us some background information on the system, which brought some cultural norms to light. A long tradition of the “droit” (right) to an education for everyone is slowly being changed. Yet, there seems to be a struggle between the generation gap: the professors, the administrators, and the students, and no one is winning. Most of the votes proposed to pass or not pass the new proposal end up around fifty-fifty. The students keep voting, therefore, they keep striking, and nothing gets accomplished. Exams are scheduled in May, but these do not seem possible given the fact that no one has had class…delaying their education and entrance into the work field. Although the professors are getting some sort of compensation, their jobs are in danger. If the new policy passes, small universities such as the one in Avignon won’t survive, because the population, and the people’s income who live in the town, is not large enough to sustain a higher education facility. It is saddening; professors such as my host family will have to uproot their families to bigger cities like Paris to support themselves. During the grève, there are limited professors, limited funds for research, and of course, limited funds. No one is benefiting.
The French people aren’t too pleased with Sarkozy right now either, given that he is one of the biggest supporters for the passage of this law. This law, as mentioned before, would require students to pay for a higher education (like back home). Sarkozy would like an education system similar to that of the United States, which he believes would equal more competition. Perhaps more competition would benefit their economy in some ways, but it is difficult to tell whether these supposed benefits would outweigh the losses. France has a long tradition of socialized education: where everyone is entitled to a higher education, and every degree, no matter the university, is viewed as equal. There are some definite pros and cons to this system. The only entrance requirement is to pass your BAC, which 90% do, during your last year of high school. Although a free education (the reason many French people have doctorates), and not having to buy those 150 dollar textbooks, may sound like a dream come true, the system is very, very expensive for the government. La système coûte très chère, mais ça marche. (the system is very expensive, but it works) Sarkozy’s proposal frightens many people who are content with the current system. Très compliquée, n’est-ce pas?! One can only hope that the issue is resolved in the best way…and soon.
While walking through town, I couldn’t help but noticing that they are a lot (and I mean A LOT) of kids here. A mother walking down the street with a stroller and two other tots trailing behind is not an uncommon sight. Which brings me to another interesting point about socialism in France- le taux de natalté. The government in France gives more aid and tax breaks the more kids you have, so it is not uncommon for a woman to have 4 children…and then want more. No wonder France has one of the highest birth rates in the world.
It is really eye opening to be caught in the middle something as serious as a country-wide strike. Perhaps the experience of living politics was the wakeup call I needed to realize that the world is bigger than the United States…and there is so much world out there!
On a lighter note, we went to the Red Sky, to carry on the Thursday-night OU tradition, even though we had class tomorrow. The Red Sky seems to be our “go-to” place in town, which I am guessing is a sign that we are all getting more comfortable with living in Avignon. I know I am. Our new French friends were there again. I really enjoy talking with them, because they are friendly, easy to talk to, speak English well enough to have a decent conversation, and give us tips on the way of college…French-style! I find it so much easier to talk to French students my own age than to try to express my ideas in the classroom. Perhaps the no-pressure setting makes speaking, or attempting to do so, easier for me. We teach them things about the US, and in return, they teach us things about France. It’s a mutual-learning experience. We even taught the French boys the meaning and hand motions for “awkward turtle,” and in return, learned “rabbit check.” “Rabbit check” is what this group does when they greet and part, in place of the girly bissou. “Rabbit check” is a double high-five followed by one taking his/her middle and index fingers and bending them down twice, like rabbit ears. Haha…quite amusing to watch actually. I guess they feel comfortable around us, because the past two times we have hung out with them, I got “rabbit checked,” I’m guessing that’s a good sign. I think we are going to be fast friends, because we are all hanging out again next week. I also met another really nice (and generous) French student who told me she would be studying in England in a few weeks, but wants to take us all out before she leaves. Again, whoever said that the French don’t like Americans?
Hanging out with the French students made language learning seem fun, but to amuse ourselves when we are in (and sometimes out) of the classroom, we’ve started saying English words in a French accent. Hey, at least we sound more French that way. For example, if you want to say the word “dictionary” in French, but don’t know the word, you just keep talking in French until you get to the word, and insert the English one in a French accent. Proven to be very efficient in our attempt to blend in…and in getting strange looks from natives. There are also those dreaded, long French words that you just want to rush through saying so no one will hear your horrid pronunciation. You must instead “walk it out” (our phrase for slowing down a long, complex word by carefully articulating each syllable) beforehand. “Walk it out” references wouldn’t be complete without an accompanying gesture: one palm flat, with two fingers from your other hand “walking” across it.
C’est tout pour maintenant. Excursion tomorrow. Merci pour votre visite ! XX
Wow. Today/Yesterday was a learning experience. Talking about the French education system made me feel incompetent about my previous knowledge. It was just that: I realized that I knew, nor really cared (shamefully enough), next-to-nothing about politics before coming here. I was…still am a little…naive. I had preconceived notions about what France was going to be like: some sort of European oasis across the sea where people sit in the sun, sipping on red wine, while enjoying every little bit of life. The fantasy of a country filled with the glitz and the glamour one commonly associates with such a romanticized place as France, known for its cuisine, cologne, champagne, wine, and couture, is slowly becoming a darker reality. Sometimes it takes analyzing another country’s education and political systems to make you really understand your own. Every country has its flaws, and its benefits, and it has been quite a journey discovering which of these things are present back home. I am trying to keep an open heart and open mind during my stay here, so learning about a country’s education system is a good place to start.
Well…false alarm. The eight week long grève wasn’t over. It was over for the week, and except for Thursday, all students would resume class (something they hadn’t done for the past six weeks). If this just sounds confusing to you, well…it is. I still don’t (and never will) understand all there is to know about la grève, but here’s what I do know: It was declared last week that from now on the students at every university across the country would vote if they are or aren’t going to class that week, and on which days. At first, hearing this sounds completely ridiculous, but at the same time makes one realize how widespread the issue is. I am beginning to slowly comprehend that there is more to la grève than meets the eye. On a surface level, it just seems like these students are wasting time and government money by not going to class, but there is a much bigger issue at hand.
Our professor gave us some background information on the system, which brought some cultural norms to light. A long tradition of the “droit” (right) to an education for everyone is slowly being changed. Yet, there seems to be a struggle between the generation gap: the professors, the administrators, and the students, and no one is winning. Most of the votes proposed to pass or not pass the new proposal end up around fifty-fifty. The students keep voting, therefore, they keep striking, and nothing gets accomplished. Exams are scheduled in May, but these do not seem possible given the fact that no one has had class…delaying their education and entrance into the work field. Although the professors are getting some sort of compensation, their jobs are in danger. If the new policy passes, small universities such as the one in Avignon won’t survive, because the population, and the people’s income who live in the town, is not large enough to sustain a higher education facility. It is saddening; professors such as my host family will have to uproot their families to bigger cities like Paris to support themselves. During the grève, there are limited professors, limited funds for research, and of course, limited funds. No one is benefiting.
The French people aren’t too pleased with Sarkozy right now either, given that he is one of the biggest supporters for the passage of this law. This law, as mentioned before, would require students to pay for a higher education (like back home). Sarkozy would like an education system similar to that of the United States, which he believes would equal more competition. Perhaps more competition would benefit their economy in some ways, but it is difficult to tell whether these supposed benefits would outweigh the losses. France has a long tradition of socialized education: where everyone is entitled to a higher education, and every degree, no matter the university, is viewed as equal. There are some definite pros and cons to this system. The only entrance requirement is to pass your BAC, which 90% do, during your last year of high school. Although a free education (the reason many French people have doctorates), and not having to buy those 150 dollar textbooks, may sound like a dream come true, the system is very, very expensive for the government. La système coûte très chère, mais ça marche. (the system is very expensive, but it works) Sarkozy’s proposal frightens many people who are content with the current system. Très compliquée, n’est-ce pas?! One can only hope that the issue is resolved in the best way…and soon.
While walking through town, I couldn’t help but noticing that they are a lot (and I mean A LOT) of kids here. A mother walking down the street with a stroller and two other tots trailing behind is not an uncommon sight. Which brings me to another interesting point about socialism in France- le taux de natalté. The government in France gives more aid and tax breaks the more kids you have, so it is not uncommon for a woman to have 4 children…and then want more. No wonder France has one of the highest birth rates in the world.
It is really eye opening to be caught in the middle something as serious as a country-wide strike. Perhaps the experience of living politics was the wakeup call I needed to realize that the world is bigger than the United States…and there is so much world out there!
On a lighter note, we went to the Red Sky, to carry on the Thursday-night OU tradition, even though we had class tomorrow. The Red Sky seems to be our “go-to” place in town, which I am guessing is a sign that we are all getting more comfortable with living in Avignon. I know I am. Our new French friends were there again. I really enjoy talking with them, because they are friendly, easy to talk to, speak English well enough to have a decent conversation, and give us tips on the way of college…French-style! I find it so much easier to talk to French students my own age than to try to express my ideas in the classroom. Perhaps the no-pressure setting makes speaking, or attempting to do so, easier for me. We teach them things about the US, and in return, they teach us things about France. It’s a mutual-learning experience. We even taught the French boys the meaning and hand motions for “awkward turtle,” and in return, learned “rabbit check.” “Rabbit check” is what this group does when they greet and part, in place of the girly bissou. “Rabbit check” is a double high-five followed by one taking his/her middle and index fingers and bending them down twice, like rabbit ears. Haha…quite amusing to watch actually. I guess they feel comfortable around us, because the past two times we have hung out with them, I got “rabbit checked,” I’m guessing that’s a good sign. I think we are going to be fast friends, because we are all hanging out again next week. I also met another really nice (and generous) French student who told me she would be studying in England in a few weeks, but wants to take us all out before she leaves. Again, whoever said that the French don’t like Americans?
Hanging out with the French students made language learning seem fun, but to amuse ourselves when we are in (and sometimes out) of the classroom, we’ve started saying English words in a French accent. Hey, at least we sound more French that way. For example, if you want to say the word “dictionary” in French, but don’t know the word, you just keep talking in French until you get to the word, and insert the English one in a French accent. Proven to be very efficient in our attempt to blend in…and in getting strange looks from natives. There are also those dreaded, long French words that you just want to rush through saying so no one will hear your horrid pronunciation. You must instead “walk it out” (our phrase for slowing down a long, complex word by carefully articulating each syllable) beforehand. “Walk it out” references wouldn’t be complete without an accompanying gesture: one palm flat, with two fingers from your other hand “walking” across it.
C’est tout pour maintenant. Excursion tomorrow. Merci pour votre visite ! XX
Thursday, April 9, 2009
Things Kristina and I miss about America:
Things we miss:
Our friends
Our family
The America dollar/knowing how much money I am really spending
The standard system of measurement
Jeff dining hall (you read right)
Knowing what the people who are talking around us are saying
Chipotle and Chinese takeout (already mapquested the Chipotle nearest the C-bus airport for my return)
Microwaves
Those random people you see around campus all the time, but don’t know their name
Long, hot showers (with a showerhead attached to the wall)
Dryers
Outlets that work with US electrical appliances (my convertor almost exploded the other day!!)
Not having to worry about paying for lunch every day (see number 5)
Speaking English
Professors who speak English
Classes with structure/syllabuses/knowing what professors want
Being able to connect to the internet and print whenever we want
Our cell phones
Athens
The news
American TV
Being able to roll out of bed and not feel bad about it
American keyboards
Unlimited supply of water (We swear everyone here is dehydrated!!)
Cold, 2% milk (their stuff is warm and half-cream)
Eating dinner at a decent hour (aka not 9 at night…not cool)
Not feeling awkward in our own home
Filled pantries
Non-graph-like paper for everything
Toilet paper that is not in sqaures or pink
Having our own room
Things we don’t miss:
My dorm/ dirty South
Jeff Hill
Morton Hill
Bryan stairs
Paying for laundry
Driving places when I am not at OU (I like walking places, as long as they aren’t too far away)
Our dorms
Lack of Nutella and crêpes
Being rushed at a restaurant
Being under aged
Our friends
Our family
The America dollar/knowing how much money I am really spending
The standard system of measurement
Jeff dining hall (you read right)
Knowing what the people who are talking around us are saying
Chipotle and Chinese takeout (already mapquested the Chipotle nearest the C-bus airport for my return)
Microwaves
Those random people you see around campus all the time, but don’t know their name
Long, hot showers (with a showerhead attached to the wall)
Dryers
Outlets that work with US electrical appliances (my convertor almost exploded the other day!!)
Not having to worry about paying for lunch every day (see number 5)
Speaking English
Professors who speak English
Classes with structure/syllabuses/knowing what professors want
Being able to connect to the internet and print whenever we want
Our cell phones
Athens
The news
American TV
Being able to roll out of bed and not feel bad about it
American keyboards
Unlimited supply of water (We swear everyone here is dehydrated!!)
Cold, 2% milk (their stuff is warm and half-cream)
Eating dinner at a decent hour (aka not 9 at night…not cool)
Not feeling awkward in our own home
Filled pantries
Non-graph-like paper for everything
Toilet paper that is not in sqaures or pink
Having our own room
Things we don’t miss:
My dorm/ dirty South
Jeff Hill
Morton Hill
Bryan stairs
Paying for laundry
Driving places when I am not at OU (I like walking places, as long as they aren’t too far away)
Our dorms
Lack of Nutella and crêpes
Being rushed at a restaurant
Being under aged
Excusez-VOUS!!!
April 8, 2009 (jour 16)
Sleeping in after my “sans-key, we-are-going-to-get-mugged” scare was just what I needed to get rid of my headache and rest my eyes. I think I am starting to get allergies, because my eyes have been very red for a few days. Perhaps it’s because I have been wearing my contacts for too long, or because of the weather changes. It could be from all of the smoke I have been around the past few days. So many people in France smoke, and our host mom smokes in the house. Maybe all this smoke is getting to my eyes and head. Je ne sais pas.
This morning Kristina and I ate the cereal we bought at the market place yesterday. We were sick of cornflakes and pain grille (Grilled, packaged bread that tastes like a giant crouton…ew). After that, we decided to bum it today and go shopping with Megan(more like browsing, because shopping implies actually buying something). Wearing the same clothes from last night (that’s when you know it’s going to be a grunge day and that you shouldn’t have been up/out that late), we went to the Place d’Orlage. The shops around here are filled with cute clothes, so temptation is abound. Although, after hearing my frightening bank balance today, I think my temptation is going to be diminished for awhile.
In all, today was good. We sat in a café, ate sandwiches for only three euros (yay), and talked about things we missed in the United States. My blog above is part of our list.
While talking, a girl at another table blatantly mocked our speech and glared at us. It was possibly the rudest thing I have ever seen in my life. This was definitely an "Excusez-VOUS!!" moment. :) I couldn’t understand why someone would be so mean without reason, but there are mean people everywhere…it’s not a French thing in any way. It kind of bothered me to be honest. I’ve got to learn to thicken my skin, and brush things like that off my shoulder.
Tomorrow should be fun, because I am going to plan out where, when, and how I am going to get to my “goal” cities over the next few months. Barcelona, London, Rome, and Paris (again..for Versailles), here I come! Please keep me in your thoughts and prayers. Merci XX
Sleeping in after my “sans-key, we-are-going-to-get-mugged” scare was just what I needed to get rid of my headache and rest my eyes. I think I am starting to get allergies, because my eyes have been very red for a few days. Perhaps it’s because I have been wearing my contacts for too long, or because of the weather changes. It could be from all of the smoke I have been around the past few days. So many people in France smoke, and our host mom smokes in the house. Maybe all this smoke is getting to my eyes and head. Je ne sais pas.
This morning Kristina and I ate the cereal we bought at the market place yesterday. We were sick of cornflakes and pain grille (Grilled, packaged bread that tastes like a giant crouton…ew). After that, we decided to bum it today and go shopping with Megan(more like browsing, because shopping implies actually buying something). Wearing the same clothes from last night (that’s when you know it’s going to be a grunge day and that you shouldn’t have been up/out that late), we went to the Place d’Orlage. The shops around here are filled with cute clothes, so temptation is abound. Although, after hearing my frightening bank balance today, I think my temptation is going to be diminished for awhile.
In all, today was good. We sat in a café, ate sandwiches for only three euros (yay), and talked about things we missed in the United States. My blog above is part of our list.
While talking, a girl at another table blatantly mocked our speech and glared at us. It was possibly the rudest thing I have ever seen in my life. This was definitely an "Excusez-VOUS!!" moment. :) I couldn’t understand why someone would be so mean without reason, but there are mean people everywhere…it’s not a French thing in any way. It kind of bothered me to be honest. I’ve got to learn to thicken my skin, and brush things like that off my shoulder.
Tomorrow should be fun, because I am going to plan out where, when, and how I am going to get to my “goal” cities over the next few months. Barcelona, London, Rome, and Paris (again..for Versailles), here I come! Please keep me in your thoughts and prayers. Merci XX
Keys, s’il vous plaît ?
April 7, 2009 (jour 15)
Well today was extremely uneventful until this evening, so I will just skip over all that boring stuff and get to the action. After six hours of draining classes in French, it was time for dinner. Conversation went surprisingly well. M. Morveillez got the conversation rolling when he starting humming a tune from West Side Story while passing the potatoes. We talked movies, musicals, books, movies, and ended with church and religion. The area of Provence where I live, although a headquarters for the Roman Catholic Church during the Middle Ages, is inhabited by mostly protestants. I found it fascinating that the Morveillez described churches in Avignon as going back to a more rigid, traditional style of worship, and they don’t like this at all. I laughed aloud when M. Morviellez enacted falling asleep in food while describing the Sunday services at their church. Apparently the priest, whom he is not to fond of, “bores him” and “is too traditional.” Yet, they enjoy going to church on Sunday evenings for a more contemporary service.
I have been out of the country for the past two Easters in a row. Last year I was in China for Easter Sunday, so our group had a private student service in our choir teacher’s hotel room. This year, I am in France and am going to go to a Catholic Church, as a Protestant, with my host family. I have had a few exotic Easters in my lifetime. I am really looking forward to Easter for several reasons. One reason is because I am dying to go to a French church; I miss my church back home. I think it will be interesting to see how a different culture celebrates the holiday. The other reason I am excited is because Marianne is making a feast for us Sunday afternoon: lamb and chocolate cake. It is going to be a good day, and will definitely make up for our pantry diving last weekend. Lol. I am happy that the Morveillez were kind enough to invite Kristina and me to participate in their family celebration.
After dinner, Adam and Kyle came by to pick me up and go to the Red Sky with the rest of the group. Almost everyone was out, since we don’t have classes on Wednesdays (Tuesday nights here are the equivalent to Thursdays at OU). Well, turns our Tuesdays are salsa dance nights at Red Zone (I am noticing a Red theme with the bars and clubs here), so we decided to go to O’Neill’s (the Irish pub), then the Cuban dance club outside the walls with some of our new “friends.” The new “friends” were Kaitlin’s correspondent and his friends, who were really, really friendly. I snagged an invite to a party next week, and a couple numbers and new FB friends. Should be fun. Who says French people don’t like Americans? :)
Well the Cuban place turned out to be a year and a half away…and empty when we got there. The drinks were expensive, and we were the only people dancing there (probably because it was only Tuesday and it was nearing two). We left quickly to walk someone from the group home, only to almost get jumped by a guy in front of Red Zone! He blatantly accused Lance of knocking his drink over. Lance did no such thing…and if he did, why was your drink on the street?? The guy reached for his belt and told Lance he would “Kick his a**” if he didn’t admit to it and apologize. It was so scary!!! Not knowing what to do, Shawna and I just stood there, with our eyes bulged open as we tried to pull him away, while Katie and Sakinah walked (more like ran) away. It was so scary!!!! I thought: “Great, it’s almost two thirty, no one is out, no cops are in sight, I have barely been in Avignon over a week, Lance is going to get killed, and we are going to get mugged then sent into human trafficking…” Positive, huh? Thank God the guy finally backed down. Lance handled the situation very well: remain calm, don’t argue, just apologize, don’t get defensive, and calmly back away. It was impressive. After that, we were all shaken up and very eager to get home, safe in our beds.
When I got to my door, I discovered that the Morviellez never gave me a key to the outside gate leading from the creepy, tunnel-like parking garage to the street. I felt horrible, but I had to call my roomie to be let in. Thank goodness she was still up. Let’s just say that the first thing I did the next day was have them make me a new set of keys. I can’t be standing outside at three am fumbling with my keys. It’s not safe. I wasn’t alone, Shawna and Lance were there, but I need to be able to get into my own house…for obvious reasons.
The downside of living upstairs is that every time you turn on the light to go up or down, the buzzer, which is right by the Morviellez room, goes off. I think I am going to buy a flashlight (for walking to my door at night…it is like rape-central…and walking up and down the stairs really early or late). C’est tout!
Well today was extremely uneventful until this evening, so I will just skip over all that boring stuff and get to the action. After six hours of draining classes in French, it was time for dinner. Conversation went surprisingly well. M. Morveillez got the conversation rolling when he starting humming a tune from West Side Story while passing the potatoes. We talked movies, musicals, books, movies, and ended with church and religion. The area of Provence where I live, although a headquarters for the Roman Catholic Church during the Middle Ages, is inhabited by mostly protestants. I found it fascinating that the Morveillez described churches in Avignon as going back to a more rigid, traditional style of worship, and they don’t like this at all. I laughed aloud when M. Morviellez enacted falling asleep in food while describing the Sunday services at their church. Apparently the priest, whom he is not to fond of, “bores him” and “is too traditional.” Yet, they enjoy going to church on Sunday evenings for a more contemporary service.
I have been out of the country for the past two Easters in a row. Last year I was in China for Easter Sunday, so our group had a private student service in our choir teacher’s hotel room. This year, I am in France and am going to go to a Catholic Church, as a Protestant, with my host family. I have had a few exotic Easters in my lifetime. I am really looking forward to Easter for several reasons. One reason is because I am dying to go to a French church; I miss my church back home. I think it will be interesting to see how a different culture celebrates the holiday. The other reason I am excited is because Marianne is making a feast for us Sunday afternoon: lamb and chocolate cake. It is going to be a good day, and will definitely make up for our pantry diving last weekend. Lol. I am happy that the Morveillez were kind enough to invite Kristina and me to participate in their family celebration.
After dinner, Adam and Kyle came by to pick me up and go to the Red Sky with the rest of the group. Almost everyone was out, since we don’t have classes on Wednesdays (Tuesday nights here are the equivalent to Thursdays at OU). Well, turns our Tuesdays are salsa dance nights at Red Zone (I am noticing a Red theme with the bars and clubs here), so we decided to go to O’Neill’s (the Irish pub), then the Cuban dance club outside the walls with some of our new “friends.” The new “friends” were Kaitlin’s correspondent and his friends, who were really, really friendly. I snagged an invite to a party next week, and a couple numbers and new FB friends. Should be fun. Who says French people don’t like Americans? :)
Well the Cuban place turned out to be a year and a half away…and empty when we got there. The drinks were expensive, and we were the only people dancing there (probably because it was only Tuesday and it was nearing two). We left quickly to walk someone from the group home, only to almost get jumped by a guy in front of Red Zone! He blatantly accused Lance of knocking his drink over. Lance did no such thing…and if he did, why was your drink on the street?? The guy reached for his belt and told Lance he would “Kick his a**” if he didn’t admit to it and apologize. It was so scary!!! Not knowing what to do, Shawna and I just stood there, with our eyes bulged open as we tried to pull him away, while Katie and Sakinah walked (more like ran) away. It was so scary!!!! I thought: “Great, it’s almost two thirty, no one is out, no cops are in sight, I have barely been in Avignon over a week, Lance is going to get killed, and we are going to get mugged then sent into human trafficking…” Positive, huh? Thank God the guy finally backed down. Lance handled the situation very well: remain calm, don’t argue, just apologize, don’t get defensive, and calmly back away. It was impressive. After that, we were all shaken up and very eager to get home, safe in our beds.
When I got to my door, I discovered that the Morviellez never gave me a key to the outside gate leading from the creepy, tunnel-like parking garage to the street. I felt horrible, but I had to call my roomie to be let in. Thank goodness she was still up. Let’s just say that the first thing I did the next day was have them make me a new set of keys. I can’t be standing outside at three am fumbling with my keys. It’s not safe. I wasn’t alone, Shawna and Lance were there, but I need to be able to get into my own house…for obvious reasons.
The downside of living upstairs is that every time you turn on the light to go up or down, the buzzer, which is right by the Morviellez room, goes off. I think I am going to buy a flashlight (for walking to my door at night…it is like rape-central…and walking up and down the stairs really early or late). C’est tout!
C'est maintenant ou jamais
April 6th (jour 14)
Since I only had once class today, Kyle, insisting that my French is better than is (which it isn’t), asked me to go with him to the notary to get his financial aid paper “notarized.” Who would have thought that getting a piece of paper signed and faxing it would have been such a big ordeal… I knew this was going to be fun after our advisors offered no help as to where to go and what to do once we got there (and that Kyle had called and e-mailed numerous people before this day trying to get info, without success). After calling four different people, Kyle was finally given the name and address of someone who could help us. Map in hand, and after making a few wrong turns, we found the office only to have the lady at the desk tell us that we needed to go somewhere else at exactly 4:00. After finding the new office (and praying it was the last place we had to go), we went to a really yummy café called Croq-o-pain, which I am not ashamed to admit, have visited three times this past week. I have almost filled up my card to earn a free drink, the owners know my name, and I have been here only a week. They are friendly and the food is good, so why not go back?
Returning to the office, we waited in the lobby for awhile while scanning French tabloids, which were mainly filled with US celebrities like Brittany spears, Starbucks cup in hand. A while later, a woman came down to get us. Her office was so tidy and organized that it was intimidating. Files of professional documents were stacked along the walls in such in neat way that they were almost begging to be knocked over. We sat down, and tried to explain our problem in broken French. She asked for id, and took the paper in another room to be “notarized,” whatever that means. I thought it was kind of shady how she took the paper into the other room, as if there was some reason she couldn’t sign or stamp the document in front of us. After she returned, Kyle asked if there was a cost. She stared at us through her lenses and her piercing eyes were shooting like daggers as she just stared and replied, “Cinquante euro.” That’s 50 Euros for all those non-French speakers out there. What?! 50 euros to get a paper signed; welcome to Europe.
After we scrounged for loose change, she sat and stared at us. It was an “awkward turtle” moment: one of those times where you have to say something, no matter how idiotic, to break the deafening silence. Not knowing what to do, I started rambling by asking her “small talk” questions. It was as if a light bulb had turned on in my head from all of the nervousness I was feeling from her just sitting there, staring at us, with her piercing eyes; I was having a decent conversation in French! Thank you, adrenaline. I had no idea where on Earth these words were coming from, because I struggle with speaking and usually have to pause and think about what I am going to say. It was a miracle! After I had rambled on as much as I could, I paused, and she complimented me on my French. Me?? I was sure that she must have been mistaken, but perhaps I am finally progressing. I am beginning to see a glimmer of hope for me and French in the distance.
France/Europeupdates: so la grève is finally over. Well, partially. There was a vote the other day, and a policy passed to have school officially restart today. Hooray for no more barricaded classroom doors and more French students to meet! However, Guilluame informed us that the students would continue to strike on Thursdays, since they are still angry.
M.Morveillez told me at breakfast that there was a horrible earthquake near Rome this morning. It hit home for me, because this was one of the cities I was planning on visiting. I can only hope and pray that nothing like this happens while I am over there. A natural disaster can make one stop, think, and put things into perspective: like how one can never really know what’s going to happen, or what’s waiting around the bend. You just have to live each day to its fullest, because life is short. Which brings me to our “official” motto for the trip, “C’est maintenant ou jamais,” (it’s now or never) because you only live once, and it’s a wonderful life. The phrase is forever inscribed on Sakinah’s back in ink.
Places I am planning on going to make the most of my European adventure: Rome “when in Rome,” London, Barcelona, and Paris again. I may possibly go to Paris a few days before my flight (if not sooner) to enjoy the city of love and lights one last time, and make it to Versailles, of course! The Hall of Mirrors in the palace was just recently remodeled and opened to the public. I became fascinated with Marie Antoinette and the French Revolution after seeing Sophia Copolla’s film “Marie Antoinette” in Columbus for my sixteenth birthday. It is my favorite film. The scenery, costumes, and soundtrack (ran out and bought it right after!) are outstanding. It is honestly one of the most creative and visually beautiful movies I have ever seen. If you haven’t seen it, I highly recommend it. To sound really cheesy, it’s not just a film, it’s a work of art. If you don’t want to sit down for two hours, then pop in the soundtrack, you’ll be pleasantly surprised; I was. I have been dreaming of going to Versailles and Paris ever since seeing the movie. One down, one to go…
I will end my entry with a funny tidbit from last weekend: Kyle’s correspondent brought his friend Etienne, as well as Etienne’s girlfriend, along to the Red Sky to meet up with him. Etienne apparently fell in love at first sight with my roommate, Kristina, while sitting next to his girlfriend. French boys…
Since I only had once class today, Kyle, insisting that my French is better than is (which it isn’t), asked me to go with him to the notary to get his financial aid paper “notarized.” Who would have thought that getting a piece of paper signed and faxing it would have been such a big ordeal… I knew this was going to be fun after our advisors offered no help as to where to go and what to do once we got there (and that Kyle had called and e-mailed numerous people before this day trying to get info, without success). After calling four different people, Kyle was finally given the name and address of someone who could help us. Map in hand, and after making a few wrong turns, we found the office only to have the lady at the desk tell us that we needed to go somewhere else at exactly 4:00. After finding the new office (and praying it was the last place we had to go), we went to a really yummy café called Croq-o-pain, which I am not ashamed to admit, have visited three times this past week. I have almost filled up my card to earn a free drink, the owners know my name, and I have been here only a week. They are friendly and the food is good, so why not go back?
Returning to the office, we waited in the lobby for awhile while scanning French tabloids, which were mainly filled with US celebrities like Brittany spears, Starbucks cup in hand. A while later, a woman came down to get us. Her office was so tidy and organized that it was intimidating. Files of professional documents were stacked along the walls in such in neat way that they were almost begging to be knocked over. We sat down, and tried to explain our problem in broken French. She asked for id, and took the paper in another room to be “notarized,” whatever that means. I thought it was kind of shady how she took the paper into the other room, as if there was some reason she couldn’t sign or stamp the document in front of us. After she returned, Kyle asked if there was a cost. She stared at us through her lenses and her piercing eyes were shooting like daggers as she just stared and replied, “Cinquante euro.” That’s 50 Euros for all those non-French speakers out there. What?! 50 euros to get a paper signed; welcome to Europe.
After we scrounged for loose change, she sat and stared at us. It was an “awkward turtle” moment: one of those times where you have to say something, no matter how idiotic, to break the deafening silence. Not knowing what to do, I started rambling by asking her “small talk” questions. It was as if a light bulb had turned on in my head from all of the nervousness I was feeling from her just sitting there, staring at us, with her piercing eyes; I was having a decent conversation in French! Thank you, adrenaline. I had no idea where on Earth these words were coming from, because I struggle with speaking and usually have to pause and think about what I am going to say. It was a miracle! After I had rambled on as much as I could, I paused, and she complimented me on my French. Me?? I was sure that she must have been mistaken, but perhaps I am finally progressing. I am beginning to see a glimmer of hope for me and French in the distance.
France/Europeupdates: so la grève is finally over. Well, partially. There was a vote the other day, and a policy passed to have school officially restart today. Hooray for no more barricaded classroom doors and more French students to meet! However, Guilluame informed us that the students would continue to strike on Thursdays, since they are still angry.
M.Morveillez told me at breakfast that there was a horrible earthquake near Rome this morning. It hit home for me, because this was one of the cities I was planning on visiting. I can only hope and pray that nothing like this happens while I am over there. A natural disaster can make one stop, think, and put things into perspective: like how one can never really know what’s going to happen, or what’s waiting around the bend. You just have to live each day to its fullest, because life is short. Which brings me to our “official” motto for the trip, “C’est maintenant ou jamais,” (it’s now or never) because you only live once, and it’s a wonderful life. The phrase is forever inscribed on Sakinah’s back in ink.
Places I am planning on going to make the most of my European adventure: Rome “when in Rome,” London, Barcelona, and Paris again. I may possibly go to Paris a few days before my flight (if not sooner) to enjoy the city of love and lights one last time, and make it to Versailles, of course! The Hall of Mirrors in the palace was just recently remodeled and opened to the public. I became fascinated with Marie Antoinette and the French Revolution after seeing Sophia Copolla’s film “Marie Antoinette” in Columbus for my sixteenth birthday. It is my favorite film. The scenery, costumes, and soundtrack (ran out and bought it right after!) are outstanding. It is honestly one of the most creative and visually beautiful movies I have ever seen. If you haven’t seen it, I highly recommend it. To sound really cheesy, it’s not just a film, it’s a work of art. If you don’t want to sit down for two hours, then pop in the soundtrack, you’ll be pleasantly surprised; I was. I have been dreaming of going to Versailles and Paris ever since seeing the movie. One down, one to go…
I will end my entry with a funny tidbit from last weekend: Kyle’s correspondent brought his friend Etienne, as well as Etienne’s girlfriend, along to the Red Sky to meet up with him. Etienne apparently fell in love at first sight with my roommate, Kristina, while sitting next to his girlfriend. French boys…
Monday, April 6, 2009
Pantry diving and temperature rising
April 5th (jour 13)
Okay, so it turns out that Paul had no idea when his parents were returning today. French people really need to keep more food in their pantries. Kristina and I had bread, cereal, yogurt, and fruit today…because there was nothing else to eat in the house. Remember that we were supposed to have at least four meals provided for us this weekend. We would have just gone out to a café and bought something, but since it’s Palm Sunday, more cafes were closed than usual and we didn’t have the money to spend. Getting a little grumpy and hungry, I asked Paul, our host “brother,” if there was anything we could fix ourselves for lunch. He just sat on the couch, watched TV, and told us to eat whatever we could find. Umm…okay. At least he made coffee this morning, or I would have been really, really grumpy.
Now usually I am pretty easy going about stuff like this, but our money has been spent already on food we weren’t getting. Not cool. I think the reason that Paul was just sitting on the couch this morning was because our loud friends had frightened him last night. I really don’t know, and part of me doesn’t blame him. Plotting our escape, Kristina and I schemed to show up on Danielle’s doorstep, the home of Kyle and Adam, begging for dinner and claiming abandonment. Hey, I could totally deal with her cutting my food for me if we got a decent dinner out of it (she frequently cuts Adam and Kyle’s food for them…so adorable and funny!).
Kristina and I sat outside on the patio, staring at the wall, bored out of our minds. While everyone else was having a picnic, we had to stay at the house and wait for our family to get home…whenever that may be. Thankfully, we had huge bottles of water to drink while we waited for them to get home. Bottled water is so cheap here! To keep ourselves entertained as the beautiful church bells tolled in the background…which reminded me of how much I would like to go to a French church, we flipped through Adam’s Lonely Planet French phrasebook to amuse ourselves. Some of the stuff in there was absolutely ridiculous. There was a whole romance section on how to say sexual phrases (remember we are in France, and there are condom dispensers on some street corners….I am not kidding!)…hmm, and one would use this section to say all these things to someone whose language they don’t speak. Perverts. Where are morals nowadays? By the way, sorry to be crude and childish (and kind of go against what I just said, but…), look up the f-word in French on word reference.com; the example sentences are laugh-out-loud hysterical. Good for it you need a laugh.
Just when Kristina and I were going to say forget it and wander the streets of Avignon to find an open café, the family returned! Hallelujah! I feel like I am walking on eggshells here, because neither of us knows how to act around them. I have a pile of dirty laundry upstairs that the mom is going to show me how to do tomorrow evening, but as silly as it sounds, it took me awhile to get up the nerve to ask if she could teach me. Weird, but when one doesn’t know the cultural norms, things that you normally would have no problem asking to do in an American home are treated a little differently when you are out of your element.
The family played some strange Moroccan show tune music and danced and sang around the kitchen cheerfully as they arranged a vase of colorful flowers they had brought back from their country home. It was really entertaining, and even though I found their behavior a little strange (and almost smirkable), I reasoned that it must be the spring weather getting to them. Yet, I really enjoyed seeing the seemingly straight-laced family loosed-up and enjoying themselves. They are beginning to grow on me.
Thankfully, the dinner tonight, although really late, was excellent, and made up for our lack of anything descent that day. It was awkward though, because the family never said anything about what we ate when they were gone…or explained why they left or why they didn’t tell us. I found that a little fishy. Maybe they did tell us they were leaving, and we just didn’t understand. They don’t seem like the type of people who would leave us out in the cold to fend for ourselves, because they are a genuinely nice family, and I know that although things are really awkward at times, they mean well…and I like them a lot. En tous, today was an odd day, but you’ll have those. It just means that tomorrow will be better.
Okay, so it turns out that Paul had no idea when his parents were returning today. French people really need to keep more food in their pantries. Kristina and I had bread, cereal, yogurt, and fruit today…because there was nothing else to eat in the house. Remember that we were supposed to have at least four meals provided for us this weekend. We would have just gone out to a café and bought something, but since it’s Palm Sunday, more cafes were closed than usual and we didn’t have the money to spend. Getting a little grumpy and hungry, I asked Paul, our host “brother,” if there was anything we could fix ourselves for lunch. He just sat on the couch, watched TV, and told us to eat whatever we could find. Umm…okay. At least he made coffee this morning, or I would have been really, really grumpy.
Now usually I am pretty easy going about stuff like this, but our money has been spent already on food we weren’t getting. Not cool. I think the reason that Paul was just sitting on the couch this morning was because our loud friends had frightened him last night. I really don’t know, and part of me doesn’t blame him. Plotting our escape, Kristina and I schemed to show up on Danielle’s doorstep, the home of Kyle and Adam, begging for dinner and claiming abandonment. Hey, I could totally deal with her cutting my food for me if we got a decent dinner out of it (she frequently cuts Adam and Kyle’s food for them…so adorable and funny!).
Kristina and I sat outside on the patio, staring at the wall, bored out of our minds. While everyone else was having a picnic, we had to stay at the house and wait for our family to get home…whenever that may be. Thankfully, we had huge bottles of water to drink while we waited for them to get home. Bottled water is so cheap here! To keep ourselves entertained as the beautiful church bells tolled in the background…which reminded me of how much I would like to go to a French church, we flipped through Adam’s Lonely Planet French phrasebook to amuse ourselves. Some of the stuff in there was absolutely ridiculous. There was a whole romance section on how to say sexual phrases (remember we are in France, and there are condom dispensers on some street corners….I am not kidding!)…hmm, and one would use this section to say all these things to someone whose language they don’t speak. Perverts. Where are morals nowadays? By the way, sorry to be crude and childish (and kind of go against what I just said, but…), look up the f-word in French on word reference.com; the example sentences are laugh-out-loud hysterical. Good for it you need a laugh.
Just when Kristina and I were going to say forget it and wander the streets of Avignon to find an open café, the family returned! Hallelujah! I feel like I am walking on eggshells here, because neither of us knows how to act around them. I have a pile of dirty laundry upstairs that the mom is going to show me how to do tomorrow evening, but as silly as it sounds, it took me awhile to get up the nerve to ask if she could teach me. Weird, but when one doesn’t know the cultural norms, things that you normally would have no problem asking to do in an American home are treated a little differently when you are out of your element.
The family played some strange Moroccan show tune music and danced and sang around the kitchen cheerfully as they arranged a vase of colorful flowers they had brought back from their country home. It was really entertaining, and even though I found their behavior a little strange (and almost smirkable), I reasoned that it must be the spring weather getting to them. Yet, I really enjoyed seeing the seemingly straight-laced family loosed-up and enjoying themselves. They are beginning to grow on me.
Thankfully, the dinner tonight, although really late, was excellent, and made up for our lack of anything descent that day. It was awkward though, because the family never said anything about what we ate when they were gone…or explained why they left or why they didn’t tell us. I found that a little fishy. Maybe they did tell us they were leaving, and we just didn’t understand. They don’t seem like the type of people who would leave us out in the cold to fend for ourselves, because they are a genuinely nice family, and I know that although things are really awkward at times, they mean well…and I like them a lot. En tous, today was an odd day, but you’ll have those. It just means that tomorrow will be better.
Sunday, April 5, 2009
Here Comes the Sun/Morviellez: Mysteriously MIA
April 4th, 2009 (jour 12)
Last night was officially the first time I have gotten a decent night’s sleep for the past two – possibly three weeks, aside from my first night in Paris. Sleeping in never felt so good. Kristina and I went downstairs around 11:30 for a late breakfast, only to discover that our host family had abandoned us for the weekend…without telling us. We tried to rethink our conversations over the past week, and neither of us could remember them saying anything about leaving us alone to fend for ourselves. Thankfully, Paul was home, because he had to study for the French version of the OGT called the BAC. Apparently, our family had spilt for the weekend to go to their house in the country. I thought back to my high school French classes and remembered reading a culture section on how it was common for Francophones in the city to have getaways in the country specifically for weekend excursions. I had absolutely no problem with my host family being gone aside from the fact that 1) they didn’t tell us they were leaving (and if they did, neither of us understood) and 2) we had paid for four meals this weekend which we were not getting fed. Hmmm….this was not good for our wallets or our stomachs.
Panicked, I called Kyle and Adam to see what they were up to…and if we could snag a dinner invite to their house that night. (Danielle is an excellent cook). After thinking it over, we decided that it was too early in the program for us to be inviting ourselves over to each other’s houses for dinner (we had barely been here a week after all), but made plans to go out that afternoon and see a movie with them and Jenny, a grad student who acts as our “assistant” on the trip. She is truly a delight, and had plenty of advice for Kristina and me, since she lived with the Morviellez two years before. Apparently, this disappearing act had happened in previous years, so she understood our condition.
We met Kyle, Adam, and Jenny at the end of the Rue de la Republique a few hours later to do some shopping and grab some lunch. It was absolutely beautiful in Avignon today, and it seemed as though everyone was out to enjoy the sunshine. The nice weather lifted my mood so much that I felt a little at home for the first time in France today. I have a feeling that Avignon, like Athens, is slowly but surely going to become one of my “homes away from home.”
On the other hand, while attending the university, I am starting to understand how the Japanese students must feel at OU. We all, we being the twenty OU students studying in Avignon this spring, stick together like the Japanese students seem to socialize amongst themselves at OU. Being amongst fellow Americans provides some sense of familiarity in the midst of a country so different from your own. When I return to OU, I am going to make an effort to reach out to one of these foreign exchanged students. I now understand what it feels like to be so far away from home while trying to get an education in a country full of people who don’t speak your language. I did become good friends with a Chinese girl named Yin who lived in my mod first quarter, and part of winter. Sadly, she had to move out, but gave me some chop sticks from China before she left the dorm and thanked me for always being friendly and talking to her. I am touched when I look back and realize how much those little acts of kindness and small talk in the bathroom must have meant to her. Sometimes it takes walking in another’s shoes for a day or two to really understand how they really feel.
Speaking of feeling more at home, I have noticed more and more frang-lais creeping its way into my everyday conversation. I’ll be speaking in English and subconsciously, I’ll throw in a few random French words into the mix for good measure. The funny thing is that I don’t even realize I am doing this; it just happens. I’ll say things like, “okay, let’s allez to the cinema ce soir,” or “yeah, of course, ça marche bine.” It’s really amusing. I hope that I will just start speaking French all the time one of these days, instead of busting out in uncontrolled frang-lais. I’m hoping all of this frang-lais is a sign that I am slowly but surely picking up the language.
Sun, shopping, and lunching at a Snack Stand of steak frites and hot tomato and mozzarella sandwiches was exactly what I needed to brighten my day. While sunning ourselves outside the café, we began to talk about what fast food places we missed from home; we even talked about how much we missed things like the Wok Bars at the dining hall. You really learn to appreciate the things you have when they are taken away from you. The Chipotle closest to the Columbus airport is my first stop on June 13th. Can’t wait for some of that cilantro… Yes, we are in France, the culinary capital of the world, but most of the good food here is too expensive for us to buy, and croissants and crêpes, although tasty, do get old after awhile.
While browsing around, we decided to take a rest at a different café for some drinks to enjoy the weather. The conversation quickly flowed from politics to divorce in less than five minutes. I guess that’s the French rubbing off on me; they love to talk politics…and apathy is not accepted here…which is difficult for indecisive me – one MUST have an opinion and know why they have it. Divorce, while considered taboo in France, is sadly on the rise, like in most other countries. Although divorce is a big no-no, I found it interesting to note that mistresses and French public figures go together like peanut butter in jelly. I don’t think that this is acceptable in any way, shape, or form. I am, unfortunately, realizing that affairs are more common over here. Case and point: two of my friends (which shall remain nameless) seem to have been placed in a host family in the midst of an affair. I began to think how I would feel if I was, for example, Nicolas Sarkozy’s wife, and the public accepted the fact that my husband had a mistress. I wouldn’t like this at all. I guess some things, like morals, are different in France. Since the French are not big fans of Sarkozy at the moment and since Obama is in Strasbourg, it seems as though they have adopted him as their own President in a sense. It’s really quite an interesting phenomenon. O-bama fever exists thousands of miles away from my college town in the hills of the Appalachia.
After the café, we went to the Fnac, the French version of Best Buy. I was on a mission: a mission to find a cool French band. Guess it was meant to be, because I ended up finding one with the first CD I picked up. The band: Eiffel, the CD: Abricotine. As soon as the first song began, I knew I had success. I also found a Daft Punk album of hits, although not in French, this would suffice. I bought them both and walked out of the store with a big smile on my face.
Since we had been abandoned for the weekend, Jenny decided to adopt me, Kristina, and Paul for the evening and treat us to dinner at a fancy French restaurant. The expensive gourmet dinner consisted of three courses: you pay one price up front and are granted the selection of an all-you-can eat buffet full of French delicacies with a menu that changes each day and night. This food was exactly what people were referring to when they talked about the beauty of French cuisine…and it was worth every penny. Hands down, the best dinner I think I have had in my entire life. The appetizer options were countless purees, fancy popcorn crèmes, vegetable kebobs with dip, shrimp cocktail, and a bunch of other fancy food that I have no idea what is called. The entrée was couscous, chicken, ratatouille, duck comfit, a fish dish, and some other exotic meat. The desserts were an endless array of colorful tarts, tortes, pies, airy strawberry mousses, and mini sundaes – all arranged for maximum appeal in tiny shot glasses. Bon appétit, indeed.
After dinner, we met Kyle and Adam at the movie theatre to see Milk, or “Harvey Milk” in France. The movie, although presented in English, had French subtitles. It was fun to try to read the French subtitles along with the English dialogue and make the discretion between which lines were and weren’t literally translated. I found it interesting that French theatres don’t allow you to be late to a screening, and lock anyone out trying to enter after the start. There are no previews, and the bathrooms are located in the back of the theatre. Also, most French people stay around to watch the credits. We found this out as we rose out of our seats to turn around and exit as soon as the cast list flashed across the screen,only to turn around and find everyone still seated…and staying that way. Maybe this is because the French have a greater appreciation for film making and aren’t in a hurry to rush out of the theatre as soon as the credits start rolling. Je ne sais pas.
After the film, we decided to meet up with Guillaume, Kyle’s correspondent whose name I misspelled in my pervious blog, and Katie and Sakinah at the Red Sky for a drink before the discotheque! The discotheque we went to was called Red Sky and in a way reminded me of 19 South, only this was 19 South on steroids. Lights flashing, music (mainly American music…US music is more popular here than French music…it’s nice going into bars, clubs, and restaurants and hearing something like Lady Gaga blaring through the speakers…it reminds me of home) pumping, smoke flowing, people dancing everywhere…it was awesome!!!! For someone who likes to dance, this was like heaven on Earth. Heck, me, Adam, Katie, and Sakinah even jumped on the platform for added amusement. Funny that the four people table dancing in a French club were, in reality, just a bunch of nineteen-year-olds from Ohio. When in Rome, or this case, Avignon, do as the French do. And boy, do the French like to dance. It’s safe to say that we will be returning very soon.
While leaving, Sakinah found the French version of Big Mommas/Goodfellas. Only the French have crêpes in place of burritos and pizza at three in the morning. She was lucky to find it, because the shops in smaller cities in France close at 7:00 for dinner, aside from restaurants, clubs, and bars (even McDonald’s closes), and everything, except the bakery and a select few cafes, is closed on Sundays. Danielle, Kyle and Adam’s host mom, told us this was because the French were lazy and didn’t like to work. Although it was funny that she said that, she, herself, being a French woman, I beg to differ. The French seem to work every hard from what I’ve seen. Perhaps they decide to close everything early, because they like to enjoy their life outside of work. I admit that it’s inconvenient to consumers, but I think it’s nice that French business owners keep a sense of family and make time for themselves outside the workplace. It’s a refreshing mind-set.
Speaking of work, I have a paper to write before grammar class tomorrow and pick a time to call my mom. Since we are six hours ahead of Eastern Standard Time, it is difficult to find a good time to get in contact with family in friends. But hopefully, I will work this all out as I get more adjusted to the time zone. Maintenant, c’est le temps pour faire mes devoirs. XX (online version of the bisou)
Oh, I almost forgot, on the way back from the discotheque, we saw a crazy man in the street who felt the need to bare his backside in the middle of the Place Pis. I thought it was interesting that the French cops, although there, just stood around and let this happen. That guy would have been handcuffed and tasered in two seconds flat in the US. Guilluame told us that cops (les flicks en français) in Avignon usually just let things like that fly, as long as the guy doesn’t hurt anyone. Interesting indeed.
Last night was officially the first time I have gotten a decent night’s sleep for the past two – possibly three weeks, aside from my first night in Paris. Sleeping in never felt so good. Kristina and I went downstairs around 11:30 for a late breakfast, only to discover that our host family had abandoned us for the weekend…without telling us. We tried to rethink our conversations over the past week, and neither of us could remember them saying anything about leaving us alone to fend for ourselves. Thankfully, Paul was home, because he had to study for the French version of the OGT called the BAC. Apparently, our family had spilt for the weekend to go to their house in the country. I thought back to my high school French classes and remembered reading a culture section on how it was common for Francophones in the city to have getaways in the country specifically for weekend excursions. I had absolutely no problem with my host family being gone aside from the fact that 1) they didn’t tell us they were leaving (and if they did, neither of us understood) and 2) we had paid for four meals this weekend which we were not getting fed. Hmmm….this was not good for our wallets or our stomachs.
Panicked, I called Kyle and Adam to see what they were up to…and if we could snag a dinner invite to their house that night. (Danielle is an excellent cook). After thinking it over, we decided that it was too early in the program for us to be inviting ourselves over to each other’s houses for dinner (we had barely been here a week after all), but made plans to go out that afternoon and see a movie with them and Jenny, a grad student who acts as our “assistant” on the trip. She is truly a delight, and had plenty of advice for Kristina and me, since she lived with the Morviellez two years before. Apparently, this disappearing act had happened in previous years, so she understood our condition.
We met Kyle, Adam, and Jenny at the end of the Rue de la Republique a few hours later to do some shopping and grab some lunch. It was absolutely beautiful in Avignon today, and it seemed as though everyone was out to enjoy the sunshine. The nice weather lifted my mood so much that I felt a little at home for the first time in France today. I have a feeling that Avignon, like Athens, is slowly but surely going to become one of my “homes away from home.”
On the other hand, while attending the university, I am starting to understand how the Japanese students must feel at OU. We all, we being the twenty OU students studying in Avignon this spring, stick together like the Japanese students seem to socialize amongst themselves at OU. Being amongst fellow Americans provides some sense of familiarity in the midst of a country so different from your own. When I return to OU, I am going to make an effort to reach out to one of these foreign exchanged students. I now understand what it feels like to be so far away from home while trying to get an education in a country full of people who don’t speak your language. I did become good friends with a Chinese girl named Yin who lived in my mod first quarter, and part of winter. Sadly, she had to move out, but gave me some chop sticks from China before she left the dorm and thanked me for always being friendly and talking to her. I am touched when I look back and realize how much those little acts of kindness and small talk in the bathroom must have meant to her. Sometimes it takes walking in another’s shoes for a day or two to really understand how they really feel.
Speaking of feeling more at home, I have noticed more and more frang-lais creeping its way into my everyday conversation. I’ll be speaking in English and subconsciously, I’ll throw in a few random French words into the mix for good measure. The funny thing is that I don’t even realize I am doing this; it just happens. I’ll say things like, “okay, let’s allez to the cinema ce soir,” or “yeah, of course, ça marche bine.” It’s really amusing. I hope that I will just start speaking French all the time one of these days, instead of busting out in uncontrolled frang-lais. I’m hoping all of this frang-lais is a sign that I am slowly but surely picking up the language.
Sun, shopping, and lunching at a Snack Stand of steak frites and hot tomato and mozzarella sandwiches was exactly what I needed to brighten my day. While sunning ourselves outside the café, we began to talk about what fast food places we missed from home; we even talked about how much we missed things like the Wok Bars at the dining hall. You really learn to appreciate the things you have when they are taken away from you. The Chipotle closest to the Columbus airport is my first stop on June 13th. Can’t wait for some of that cilantro… Yes, we are in France, the culinary capital of the world, but most of the good food here is too expensive for us to buy, and croissants and crêpes, although tasty, do get old after awhile.
While browsing around, we decided to take a rest at a different café for some drinks to enjoy the weather. The conversation quickly flowed from politics to divorce in less than five minutes. I guess that’s the French rubbing off on me; they love to talk politics…and apathy is not accepted here…which is difficult for indecisive me – one MUST have an opinion and know why they have it. Divorce, while considered taboo in France, is sadly on the rise, like in most other countries. Although divorce is a big no-no, I found it interesting to note that mistresses and French public figures go together like peanut butter in jelly. I don’t think that this is acceptable in any way, shape, or form. I am, unfortunately, realizing that affairs are more common over here. Case and point: two of my friends (which shall remain nameless) seem to have been placed in a host family in the midst of an affair. I began to think how I would feel if I was, for example, Nicolas Sarkozy’s wife, and the public accepted the fact that my husband had a mistress. I wouldn’t like this at all. I guess some things, like morals, are different in France. Since the French are not big fans of Sarkozy at the moment and since Obama is in Strasbourg, it seems as though they have adopted him as their own President in a sense. It’s really quite an interesting phenomenon. O-bama fever exists thousands of miles away from my college town in the hills of the Appalachia.
After the café, we went to the Fnac, the French version of Best Buy. I was on a mission: a mission to find a cool French band. Guess it was meant to be, because I ended up finding one with the first CD I picked up. The band: Eiffel, the CD: Abricotine. As soon as the first song began, I knew I had success. I also found a Daft Punk album of hits, although not in French, this would suffice. I bought them both and walked out of the store with a big smile on my face.
Since we had been abandoned for the weekend, Jenny decided to adopt me, Kristina, and Paul for the evening and treat us to dinner at a fancy French restaurant. The expensive gourmet dinner consisted of three courses: you pay one price up front and are granted the selection of an all-you-can eat buffet full of French delicacies with a menu that changes each day and night. This food was exactly what people were referring to when they talked about the beauty of French cuisine…and it was worth every penny. Hands down, the best dinner I think I have had in my entire life. The appetizer options were countless purees, fancy popcorn crèmes, vegetable kebobs with dip, shrimp cocktail, and a bunch of other fancy food that I have no idea what is called. The entrée was couscous, chicken, ratatouille, duck comfit, a fish dish, and some other exotic meat. The desserts were an endless array of colorful tarts, tortes, pies, airy strawberry mousses, and mini sundaes – all arranged for maximum appeal in tiny shot glasses. Bon appétit, indeed.
After dinner, we met Kyle and Adam at the movie theatre to see Milk, or “Harvey Milk” in France. The movie, although presented in English, had French subtitles. It was fun to try to read the French subtitles along with the English dialogue and make the discretion between which lines were and weren’t literally translated. I found it interesting that French theatres don’t allow you to be late to a screening, and lock anyone out trying to enter after the start. There are no previews, and the bathrooms are located in the back of the theatre. Also, most French people stay around to watch the credits. We found this out as we rose out of our seats to turn around and exit as soon as the cast list flashed across the screen,only to turn around and find everyone still seated…and staying that way. Maybe this is because the French have a greater appreciation for film making and aren’t in a hurry to rush out of the theatre as soon as the credits start rolling. Je ne sais pas.
After the film, we decided to meet up with Guillaume, Kyle’s correspondent whose name I misspelled in my pervious blog, and Katie and Sakinah at the Red Sky for a drink before the discotheque! The discotheque we went to was called Red Sky and in a way reminded me of 19 South, only this was 19 South on steroids. Lights flashing, music (mainly American music…US music is more popular here than French music…it’s nice going into bars, clubs, and restaurants and hearing something like Lady Gaga blaring through the speakers…it reminds me of home) pumping, smoke flowing, people dancing everywhere…it was awesome!!!! For someone who likes to dance, this was like heaven on Earth. Heck, me, Adam, Katie, and Sakinah even jumped on the platform for added amusement. Funny that the four people table dancing in a French club were, in reality, just a bunch of nineteen-year-olds from Ohio. When in Rome, or this case, Avignon, do as the French do. And boy, do the French like to dance. It’s safe to say that we will be returning very soon.
While leaving, Sakinah found the French version of Big Mommas/Goodfellas. Only the French have crêpes in place of burritos and pizza at three in the morning. She was lucky to find it, because the shops in smaller cities in France close at 7:00 for dinner, aside from restaurants, clubs, and bars (even McDonald’s closes), and everything, except the bakery and a select few cafes, is closed on Sundays. Danielle, Kyle and Adam’s host mom, told us this was because the French were lazy and didn’t like to work. Although it was funny that she said that, she, herself, being a French woman, I beg to differ. The French seem to work every hard from what I’ve seen. Perhaps they decide to close everything early, because they like to enjoy their life outside of work. I admit that it’s inconvenient to consumers, but I think it’s nice that French business owners keep a sense of family and make time for themselves outside the workplace. It’s a refreshing mind-set.
Speaking of work, I have a paper to write before grammar class tomorrow and pick a time to call my mom. Since we are six hours ahead of Eastern Standard Time, it is difficult to find a good time to get in contact with family in friends. But hopefully, I will work this all out as I get more adjusted to the time zone. Maintenant, c’est le temps pour faire mes devoirs. XX (online version of the bisou)
Oh, I almost forgot, on the way back from the discotheque, we saw a crazy man in the street who felt the need to bare his backside in the middle of the Place Pis. I thought it was interesting that the French cops, although there, just stood around and let this happen. That guy would have been handcuffed and tasered in two seconds flat in the US. Guilluame told us that cops (les flicks en français) in Avignon usually just let things like that fly, as long as the guy doesn’t hurt anyone. Interesting indeed.
