Visiting Blere

Italy:

So before talking about my trip to Italy at the beginning of November (8-11th), I can’t forget my trip to Blere to visit my roommate from last year, Coline, and her family. Coline was on vacation, so she invited Ali (the same girl who traveled to Ireland with me and who lived in my suite last year with Coline and I) and me to come stay with her family. We came on Friday afternoon and left Sunday afternoon, and really had the most wonderful time.

Getting there was a bit of a pain for me, however. Friday morning, I got up early and went to the Robert Doisneau exhibition, which was wonderful – his photos are extremely candid and often hilarious, always thought-provoking. Some of my favorites included a portrait of a naked woman in the side of a store-front window; Doisneau took pictures of passer-bys who paused to peer into the right side of the window to see what exactly the portrait was, and their expressions were hilarious. Afterwards, we could find nowhere to go for a quick lunch, so – I am embarrassed to say - we went to MacDonalds (but JUST for the fries and ice cream!! And I had an avocado sandwich.) I then jumped onto the metro to take it to my train station, arriving just in time. I had purchased my train ticket online, and had opted to print my tickets off at home in order to not have to wait in line at the train station. I had sent the email to my host sister, which she had kindly printed off for me, so I thought everything was in order. In the States, you normally just receive an email which includes your tickets, right? You print off the email itself and that IS your ticket (you have to check in at the airport, but the train website told me I didn’t have to). I thus attempted to board the train with about 7 minutes left and asked a conductor if I could sit anywhere I wanted, as the seat space was not indicated on the form. “What is this!?” he asked me rudely. “I can’t do anything with this! This isn’t a ticket!” I explained to him that it was the online ticket, it was what had been sent to me, and I, as requested, had printed it off. “I can’t do anything with this!! You need to go to the ticket counter, but it will be too late. You’ll miss the train,” he told me. I was shocked. “But this is what they sent me,” I told him. “Well that’s not a ticket,” he said. Then, as I was afraid I would cry in front of him, I told him, “Sir, it is clear that I purchased the ticket. Could you not check to verify, and allow me to use this email which clearly states that I paid?” “No,” he replied, irritated. Then, as I was frantically trying to hold back tears, he chose to demonstrate his extensive English language capabilities and told me quite coherently, “Wiizzout teecket.” How helpful – he could tell me I didn’t have a ticket! I was extremely impressed.

As I was going to miss my train, I ran to the end of the platform and asked a woman who might be more helpful. She was very kind and sympathetic, and we tried to withdraw my ticket from a machine where you insert your credit card to verify your reservation; unfortunately, since I don’t have a French credit card – and so I don’t have the ‘pouce’ that is necessary – it didn’t work. She took me to speak with one of the conductors. I tried to tell her that I had already spoken to one, but she still went directly to the “wiizout teecket” man. He told her, angrily, “I have already spoken with this young girl!!” (young girl!??) “She knows she cannot get on!” The woman tried to speak with him, telling him that it was clear that I had a ticket. Then I said, “Monsieur-” and he looked at me and snarled, “I AM SPEAKING” - (like parents do to naughty children who interrupt.) I was so surprised and upset - since I was obviously going to miss my train - that I could tell that I was about to cry, so I thanked the woman who had been kind to me and walked away, wiping away tears out of anger and hurt (why would any man speak to someone else like that? Would he have spoken to me that way if I were a boy of my age?) I then waited in line at the ticket counter and, still embarrassedly wiping away tears, explained my situation to the woman behind the counter, who could do nothing to help me. I had to buy a new ticket, and I left late that afternoon with my friend Ali from another train station – which was fine, since we got to sit together and she bought me chocolate as consolation for my missed train.

In Bléré, I met Coline’s family, and it was really like I was staying with relatives – they were so kind to us, and even though they spoke good English (had both been Engilsh teachers), they spoke to us in French (which doesn’t always happen!). We had amazing meals, and dessert at each one (which is typical French but doesn’t always happen at my house, for sure!!). Friday night we all went together to a bar where we had ice cream (huge!) and delicious cocktails; Saturday day we visited Bléré, walked around the town, saw the stone bridge over the river where Coline used to hang out as a child, and visit the Clos Lucé (where Leonardo da Vinci lived just before his death), which was amazing. I bought a small present there that I can’t forget to give!! The Close Luce is kind of a popular spot for Da Vinci Code aficionados, also - so you may have heard of it. For dinner, we went back to the Roux’s and had the most delicious meal, including some type of apple tarte and ice cream. That night, we went to Coline’s friend’s house for a party he was having (he had previously lived in America and his family had some rather vulgar comics in their bathroom which I'm not really sure they understood). It was really fun to speak to French people, and we spoke about politics for a while – everywhere I go, I am surprised to find that people don’t harbor any hatred or dislike towards “Americans”, just towards “American policy” (think the letter that was opened at the UN today from the Iranian president) particularly George Bush (and unsurprisingly – has George Bush ever studied a foreign language…other than Spanish, which apparently he speaks poorly).

In fact, one girl at the party came up and grabbed both of my hands and said, “Laura, tell me – parties in America are so much better than this!” I told her no, they are the same. Then she said, “But you know, America is different! It is the dream for us, you know!” (C’est le rêve pour nous!!) I told her that Americans equally think that France is wonderful and even that everyone idealizes everyone else’s country, but that I did miss home and that I found a lot of thing to be great in the States but there were still lots of good things in France. She was insistent, though: “It really is the dream for us, you know. America is the place where things happen.”

Sunday, Ali and I took the train back in the morning, unfortunately missing the big Sunday brunch at the Roux's since we had to leave at noon. I’m hoping to maybe go back to the Roux’s for Easter though, because (fingers crossed) I should be in Luxembourg then. In fact, just after I got back, and the evening before I left for Italy, I received a huge packet of security clearance forms in the mail – which would take me days to complete, but that story is for next time. Also, if you didn’t know, I found out that I got an internship in Jan-Feb. at a research center for American scholars in Tunis, Tunisia – The Center of Maghrebi (North Africa) Studies in Tunis (Le Centre d’études maghrébines à Tunis). So I will hopefully be doing interesting things second semester!!

More on my security clearance form filling out and my Italy trip, coming soon…

An update: Arabic class and Ireland

So, what else have I been up to lately?

Well, Arabic class has been very so-so. Last week, a few funny things happened; first, my professor kept correcting this older man who is kind of obnoxious – bangs his hand on the table and is kind of loud when he speaks in class – because he couldn’t pronounce the “th” sound. (Think of all the French people who say “zee” instead of “the” in English.) He just couldn’t do it!! And guess who can…. (thanks to English). The professor even had me demonstrate!
In another class, the professor went through homework we had handed in and invidually criticized everyone – he told me that my handwriting was bad and asked me if I had had a professor who knew how to write, hah. He’s a bit rude, or at least, very forward, though I feel like criticism in front of others in more acceptable in France; in fact, very young children are prepared to respond to criticism and consistently asked to verbally justify what they say/do. I have to say I was very surprised when this professor also suggested to an older man in my class (everyone is a working adult, not students) that he needed to move down a level to Intermediate I – in front of everyone else. It was particularly weird because he is just as bad as everyone else, and everyone in general is unspectacular because the method of the course is useless – it has no direction, just each time we read a story. The last story that we read was about a lucky rooster – I’m sure the vocabulary learned there will be very useful.

I need to update on a few things, so here we go:

First, IRELAND:
Was amazing. We took a really cheap flight to get there (RYANAIR, I recommend it to anyone flying within Europe): about 20 euros each way. We did however have to take a 13 euro bus to and from the Paris Beauvais airport (1.5 hours away), but oh well. As for the fear I had of bringing liquids onto the plane (I didn’t want to throw away my favorite face wash or my contacts), it was completely unnecessary; my friend brought on a can of pop and yogurt and my other friend a huge container of hair gel and makeup. Anyway, in Dublin we stayed about a 10-minute bus ride outside of the city center, and it was wonderful. We stayed in the AB & C bed and breakfast, owned by a man from Eastern Europe who was really nice and served a good breakfast. Our room was really nice and cheap (only about 30 euros a night per person!), and the first we went to a restaurant across the street to have a student special – hamburger or vegetable soup, and the vegetable soup proved to be the best I’ve ever tasted, and it came with really delicious thick brown bread. The first day, we did a lot of sightseeing right away, including visiting a castle that is currently used for official functions and which was beautiful on the inside. We followed a guide – after a curious incident buying tickets in which an older female employee collapsed laughing/making uncomfortable breathing sounds in the back room, causing the ticket boy to blush and say, ‘Excuse me JUST a moment….’, even though she insisted she was just fine to the line of 15 touristy people waiting curiously to buy tickets/see what all of the ‘excitement’ was about. The guide was wonderful, and she gave us a really good idea of Irish history through what she told us about particular decorations or portraits in the castle. We also visited the Town Hall where an exposition on plays in Dublin featured one which, no joke, while I was listening mentioned an Irish girl who had moved to CINCINNATI. I couldn’t believe it! I took a picture by it, but of course the picture is worthless because I am just standing next to a TV screen in town hall.

While walking around, we also stopped to get cafés au lait, mochas, etc., and we were pleasantly surprised to see that the Irish, as opposed to (some of) the French, understand that a 3 euro mocha needs to be in a cup larger than an espresso cup (that is why they are not called espressos, but mochas, lattes, etc.) The Irish in general were also really amiable, asking us about why we were there, etc Perhaps this is because Ireland is on their way up economically (while the French are debating the mandatory 35-hour work week law to keep as many people employed as possible) or because they spoke English (and so do we!), but in general the Irish seemed to be much more interested in us than the French… well…. ever have : p (this of course excludes random obscenities yelled at us which the young French men responsible probably did not understand…. or so we hope). Friday night for dinner we ate a Russian-esque (we believe this because the inside was painted in red and there seemed to be Stalinist slogans on the wall…) place which was the only place we could find that had the food we wanted… It was a good choice, though, because my friend Alex (who is usually responsible for this) asked the guys sitting next to us if the tip was included (and this was honestly a question, because in France the tip is included 99% of the time, anywhere you go – taxis included), and then they just wouldn’t stop talking to us. We hung out with these guys for the rest of the night, and ended up going to another local bar which had a lot of people of all ages in what used to be an old church. It was really lively, with people dancing and hanging out, some eating dinner, etc. I talked to this guy who was 24 and told me that he had just bought a BMW for himself and a new car for his mother, since he had been working as an investment banker in Dublin for about a year and a half. Unfortunately, he was a little incoherent at the end so I couldn’t quite understand what he was talking about - the Irish really do love to drink - despite the fact that he was talking VERY loudly. Alex, Sara, Ali, and I ended up having to leave to catch a taxi back to the B&B, which, like on Halloween night here in Paris (which yes, I did celebrate) proved much more difficult than you might imagine. (You’d think we were asking them to drive us for free – that’s how difficult it was to find anyone willing to take us home -- which is why Halloween night, I trudged across Paris for 1.5 hours in the cold AND in my Halloween costume after a Sciences-Po dance/costume party next to the Louvre).


On Saturday, we got up and had a delicious “Irish breakfast” at our B&B, which included poached eggs, bacon, sausage, etc., and beans, along with lots of coffee. After much debate, a man working at the train station recommended to us that we take one of the trains to a small ocean-side town since we wanted to see a bit of the countryside. He had recently been to Ohio, as he had family there, so he asked me lots of questions; apparently (and this is really nice), he and his family came to surprise his sister (who lives in Ohio) on her birthday. They got a little lost, however, and so asked a police officer directions to the restaurant where they were meeting her – and the police officers just offered to drive them. The small town was really ocean-side, and it took only about 45 minutes to get there. When we arrived, we got fish and chips (delicious!!) and sat on a large rock walkway next to the water and tried to eat – it was so windy that we eventually gave up and moved to sit behind the wall, looking into the harbor. Then we took a long walk around the town, climbing up to a lighthouse-like structure, onto cliffs, etc, etc. We took lots of beautiful pictures, including one in tall grass with distant mountains and the ocean outlines behind us.

That night, we went back to our b&b, showered, and packed (since we were leaving early the next morning). We finally went to a small restaurant downtown and had some soup (some vegetable and some Irish stew, which tastes exactly like beef stew and is delicious!!). Then we were walking around trying to figure out what to do…we were planning to just stay up all night since our flight was so early – we had to leave at 5 AM – that it practically wasn’t worth going to bed. We were so lucky in that, after walking around the streets for ages, we finally found a dance club that was letting women in for free. We were scared of being rejected (people are rejected so often, it’s unbelievable… I can’t imagine having a job where you are obligated to choose which people to turn away..), so we prepared our most self-confident faces and filed in two-by-two… and it was fine (whew!). The club was amazing – we really were so lucky – the music was great (hip-hop, old 80s/90s songs that everyone loves, and even contemporary pop/punk songs like “he was a skater boy…”) and we didn’t buy a thing (not even a drink!!) and had the best time. We finally went back to our b&b around 3 AM and got up at 5 to get to the airport.

Unfortunately, I fell asleep on the airplane back and my Ipod must have slipped out of my hands. In any case, when I woke up when we landed, the guys sitting in back of me looked at me weirdly for too long and then left, and then when I got off I realized I didn’t have my ipod anymore… so it was most likely stolen. I spent the rest of that day calling the airport and Rayanair (which we flied) to see if anyone had found it. To this day, I’ve still called to check, and it still hasn’t appeared. That was the one downside of the trip – in addition to the fact that, when we got back, Sara and I had lunch together in a park near La Defense, which included a man yelling at me (as I left the grocery and didn’t give the children collecting for the blind) something like, “You don’t give a shit about blind people do you, lady!??” and then a schizophrenic man cornering Sara and I in the park, telling us about his children and his American friends and then, as we walked away, trying to hug us (“No, No Monsieur!” we yelled, walking quickly away. “We have an appointment, now! We’re in a hurry!”)


That is the end of our Ireland trip. Coming soon: trip to Italy, stay in a luxury hotel; trip to London, being tricked by a ‘booker’; and general life in Paris.

PS – My food situation has not improved but I did have Thanksgiving dinner in the Eiffel tower and my host father was recently featured in Elle magazine and tons of French magazines we’ve never heard of Plus my host sister got the best grade in her class on an English paper I helped her with, so all in all my situation is not too bad. : p
(I can’t wait to come home for Xmas food though!!!!!!!!!)

Last day before classes

So let's see, what have I done since the last post?

I had tea and macaroons with the author of "Capitan Corelli's Mandolin" - he is a friend of my host mother's.

I had a picnic lunch underneath the Eiffel Tower - it was beautiful, because it sparkles every night on the hour. We made chevre, tomato, avocado, olive oil, and pepper baguette sandwiches. Then we made another batch and replaced the chevre (goat cheese, my favorite...) with camembert. Both were delicious. We also packed grapes, peaches, and some wine. One of the other girls at the picnic brought tiramasu chocolate (delicious!!) and cookies. After dinner, we laid on the grass for a while, then there was a "big band" band - bizarrely dressed in silver flowing costumes with high-collars trimmed with pink fur..!! - playing music underneath the Eiffel Tower. They played "With or without you" - I love those times, when you hear French people singing songs whose lyrics they don't necessarily always understand but which mean something to them anyway (oh, culture) - and a French song "Emmenez-moi" along with some other songs, one of which sounded like it was from Gladiator. It was really fun though, with people dancing and singing... I loved it.

I ate "bifteck hache" which is supposed to be like hamburger, except not as ground. My host father cooked it, and he cooked it really rare - I think that's the European way - and I didn't like it, but out of good manners I forced myself to eat it. Even worse, we ate it with this ketchup that was wayyyy too sugary (according to the ingredient list, like half sugar and half tomatoes). After that, we had delicious Irish cheese that tasted like really good sharp cheddar, and I couldn't help but lament the fact that the hamburger probably would have tasted a million times better with that cheese melted on top (and with a significantly longer time in the oven).

I ate falafel in the Marais, which used to be the Jewish ghetto but is now home to really hip people, orthodox jews, and lots of gay men. I want to go back because it looked like there were so many good Jewish bakeries!!!!!

I had a bagel sandwich, and it was acceptable - but not as delicious as MUG's granola bagels (toasted with honey) or Panera's cinnamon crunch bagels... Oh....

I also ate milkshakes at McDonalds on the Champs-Elysees for some comfort food one night... they were so cheap (compared to everything else here!!!). It was realllly nice. And the food here at McD's is different - gourmet salads (chevre, corn, sliced tomatoes, etc.)

more updates soon : )

I have finally arrived in Paris.

Thursday night – our last night in Tours – Sara and I met a few of the other students down at the Loire, where everyone was drinking cheap wine and there was a collection of French hippies playing guitars and smoking.

Some French boys (I think boys? They looked like they were 17 or 18) came up to us and ask us for a light (it’s the universal pick-up line). Of course, none of us smoke, so we always say no. Some of us have bad accents though, so when we respond they know we’re foreign right away. “Are you English?” they asked us in French. “Are you French?” I asked them in English. They were really confused. One of the guys laughed and said, “Yes, yes, I live in French.” Then we were nice to them and told them that yes, we were English, from England.

Then we went to one of the cafes in the old quarter to get tea. We went to a tea salon called “La Casbah” and the man heated up our mint tea (which is normally delicious, had been absolutely delicious at a Hookah bar a few nights before) in the microwave. Not only did I not appreciate that he poured it from a pot into a cup to be microwaved, but I also didn’t like the fact that the cup was plastic. It was only one euro, so I guess (in French terms, where nothing is free), you get what you pay for.

So right now I am with my family. I live on the 7th floor of a gorgeous building, where when you walk out you have a view of the Eiffel tower. It seems to me exactly where Woody Allen would live if he was transported from New York to Paris; large rooms, lots of books, old-fashioned but very east coast big-city apartment-ish. If that makes any sense. They have three kids: Raphäelle, Mathilde, and Juliette; they are adorable and have been really nice to me. All three of them speak English, except that Juliette understands rather than speaks very often; last night, in fact, we watched “” together in English (with English subtitles). Madame Noiville (that is the mother), told me that she loves English, and actually lived in Georgetown for 9 months once when her husband (M. Hirsch) had an internship/short job as a lobbyist there.

Madame Noiville is a journalist, in charge of the culture/literary section of Le Monde, which, if you don’t know, is pretty much the French newspaper. She also speaks English and travels all of the time (for example, next week she will be in New Zealand for 11 days, during which her mother will come to stay with us).

M. Hirsch is the President of Emmäus Europe, which is a non-profit which fights poverty, homelessness, etc. He’s written some books and stuff and is a fellow at several organizations in DC (I found this out from google). He came to pick us up last night from the Alliance Française, but other than that I’m not sure if I’ll see him too much. Both of the parents seem very busy; Madame Noiville even had an interview with a Polish woman last night – an author, I think? – which she forgot about until the last minute.

My room, like I said, necessitates some stair climbing, but otherwise it seems fine. I have my own shower, sink, bed, shelves etc. for clothes, and a window out onto the street. I’m not sure how much time I will actually spend up there (particularly since I haven’t succeeded in getting wireless yet, and there is no TV, so I have no connection to the outside world), but I am living next to some really interesting people. The girl who lives next to me is Chinese, and her boyfriend is her in France with her. She has a TV (which is important). On the other side, there are two people: a Swiss guy and a German girl, both of whom speak French. They have the same entrance, but I think different rooms. The only thing that is kind of irritating is the bathroom, which is communal and necessitates me living my room, but that’s okay – at least it’s not far at all.

Today, when I woke up, no one was in the house. One of the daughters had school in the morning (she just got back) and Juliette, the youngest, has a broken arm (they went mountain climbing this summer and one of her sisters fell on her), so she just got back from the radiologist, which she went to all alone.

As for me, I’m typing this in the kitchen. I just finished a breakfast of muslei cereal, cocoa puff-like things, and yogurt and sugar. I'm going to finish "The Parent Trap" with my host sister and her dad, who just got home.

CROWS!!

I had to write this post because what happened is too funny to forget. Sara and I were making the 20-minute walk back to the Institute in Tours when a car of guys drove by and one of them CROWED at us. It was hilarious. It wasn't "cock-a-doodle-do" but it was some French version of it. Both of us were so confused/frightened/overwhelmed by the urge to laugh that we just kept walking until I asked Sara, "Did that just happen?"

In other news, today was my last lunch at Goutez chez Sam, the most delicious Indian/Sri Lankan restaurant with cheap sandwiches with lots of salad inside cheese-filled nan.

Yesterday, I visited a place where they make silk by hand, and I was really sick - I almost fainted and I had to go sit with a professor outside. She was so nice to me though - told me about how much she wanted to visit the US (her daughter studies English). She also made me feel much better because she was so motherly to me (I was kind of scared, I felt so lightheaded). She also asked me if my parents were French or if I spoke at home, (we were speaking French together) - which kind of made my afternoon.

Last night, we went out with some of the professors to get drinks, and it was really fun.

I am really sad to leave my family, but I am looking forward to our last dinner. We are going to buy them flowers on the way home and make chocolate chip cookies.

Tomorrow I'm going to Paris - I'll be in the 16th arrondissement, which is right by the Arc de Triomphe, Champs Elysee, and Tour Eiffel. It's the wealthiest district in Paris, which is exciting, but I hope the family isn't too bourgeois. The father is Martin Hirch (I wikepediaed him) and the mother is a journalist for Le Monde. I'm excited - I'll let you know how everything is tomorrow.

Be online tomorrow afternoon, because I'll be in Paris and I'll probably use someone else's wireless in my building to talk!!!!

bisous!

Last week in Tours

So this is my last week in Tours, and I'm already kind of sad to leave my host family. I am especially going to miss their kids, including Amandine.

Sunday was the birthday of one of the girls in the program, Maddy. We went out to lunch and had some type of bruschetta sandwich/pizza called 'brousquettes', then we went to a patisserie and I had an absolutely delicious pastry called a 'nid d'abeille' (honeycomb, maybe?). We took our pastries to a cafe, where we sat outside and ordered drinks. It was really bizarre though; one of the girls at the table whom I really don't know well didn't want to order anything, and the waitress insisted that she order or leave. It was already late in the afternoon, so she decided to just go home, but it was really bizarre - especially if everyone else at the table orders something, I don't think it's very common in America to make someone leave if they don't order anything (especially initially-couldn't she have maybe ordered later? i don't know..)

Anyway, it returns to a theme that keeps appearing here: nothing, nothing is free. Not public bathrooms (20 to 50 centimes), not water (except for a small glass pitcher of tap water when you actually sit down to eat in a restaurant), not phone calls (usually), etc. And everything you do buy is often expensive, such as a can of soda for 1 euro or sometimes 2 (which is even more than $1 since the euro is stronger than the dollar), and cell phones (!!).

This is kind of interesting - the French do not always eat ridiculously healthfully - although I have eaten more salads and whole grains here than ever before. But, the other night (after I ate that pastry and just wanted a salad!), we had crepes. Apparently, normally when you have crepes for dinner, you just have crepes (aka, with nutella, sugar, jam, etc. inside). Thank god at least we had some type of breton crepe before that had eggs, lettuce, tomatoes, ham, etc. inside.

Yesterday I had a meeting with the housing director, and I'm really excited about my (potential), housing in Paris. When I explained my interests to her, she had suggested a family right away - they live in the 16th arrondissement (Paris is divided into arrondissements), and the mother is a journalist for 'Le Monde' (the big French newspaper) and the father is the President of Emmaus Europe (an organization that works to fight homelessness, poverty). He actually was just in DC (I googled him) for meetings, and I guess he was inducted as a fellow somewhere. They have three girls, about ages 8, 10, and 13 or so. I would live in a chambre de bonne (a maid's room) that is not attached to the house (it's on the 7th floor), but I would have a key to the house so I could enter when desired, and I would eat meals with them. A chambre de bonne is really small, but it would be nice to have my own entrance/exit. What's even nicer is that the 7th floor, where I'll be, will have other international students, who will also be staying in other families' 'chambres de bonne.'

Today, I went on a boat ride on the Loire. I'd like to say I enjoyed it - and it was really beautiful - but it was ridiculously hot (in the nineties) and I still have a sore throat from last week. The woman who gave running commentary during the ride spoke as if she had given the speech a million times, so her intonations were odd (think about someone giving a tour they've given a millioin times) and she slurred her words together so she was really difficult to understand. I almost fell asleep several times - you know that awkward head partially falling before you catch yourself thing - but I managed to stay awake (plus, where would I have laid?). For lunch I had quiche, and I have officially decided that when it is this hot you are only allowed to drink water and juice and eat salad or else you feel awful. Best of all, I trudged around in shoes that I bought over the weekend - white, leather sandals (multi-season!) that got so slippery from walking all over in the heat that I had to take them over and walk down the street barefoot.

Tonight, I'm looking forward to reading and going to bed!! Tomorrow, I'm going to see a movie called "je vais bien, ne t'en fais pas" (I'm fine, don't worry about me). Then, we have a party to say goodbye to our host families. Then, I have one last atelier where I go visit an old-fashioned silk loom place.

Last night, I was signed up to go to an atelier about a newspaper here. My family dinner didn't end until late, and I was waiting for a phone call, and I had to write a paper. I didn't go, since I had signed up for more than necessary anyway. Then this morning, the director of the institute knocked on my classroom door and demanded to talk to me - I'm not kidding! - and demanded to know where I was. It was like preschool! It reminded me of the instance in my Cultural Misunderstandings book - which has proven immensely helpful (if just to put you in the mindset of understanding the French from within their own complex logic and cultural expecations) - when the director of a university student "dorm" (which is really peculiar in Paris, only a very very few exist) went through the students rooms while they were gone. It wasn't particularly intended to be insulting; instead, the French students listened nonchalantaly while she ranted and raved at a dorm meeting. In this way, she was fulfilling the role of "director" and what would be expected of her - god, so similar to the French conception of parenthood! (but more on that later) - and the students understood that it was but her role, so it really didn't bother them. To the American girl staying in the dorm, however, it was so offensive that she left (I would understand!). Anyway, so I just kind of took it in stride when I was scolded publicly (in class!! ha) for not coming to an (otherwise optional) atelier. When they say the French are very into bureaucracy, I think it's very true - particularly in the sense that everyone needs to do what is demanded of them in the public sphere, while the private sphere (which is sharply divided from the public) allows for a lot more personality and freedom.

Great story - my French host mother told me that she once tried to mail books and a card from the post office. She brought her (pre-purchased) package up to the counter, and when asked said she wanted to mail two books and a card in the package to another part of France.

"You're not allowed," the woman behind the counter told her. Nathalie didn't understand. "You can only mail BOOKS in the package," the woman told her firmly.

So Nathalie went to the back of the line, put the card inside of the book and put the books and card in the package, went back up to the counter and told the woman she was mailing only books - and the woman didn't ask any questions. Did the woman know? Probably. But you just have to say what is necessary - what you're supposed to - and then everything can be smooth sailing.

Anyway, in final news, I also bought bandaids today for almost 5 euros at the pharmacy (you have to go to different places here to get what you want, unless maybe the supermarket would have been less expensive? they have so little though...) The pharmacist specifically recommended them (after recommending one that cost 6 euros, ha), and I didn't realize how expensive they were. So funny that she wouldn't recommended the 3 euro box, eh? You have to be quick, I guess.

I'm going to walk home - barefoot or not - and read.

bisous ; )

Frasinettes!!

Right now I'm sitting in the courtyard of the Institute in Tours where I've been taking French classes. I'm here until next weekend (the ~8th we leave). My classes have been good - conversation and expression (grammar) everyday, cultural activities in the afternoon: a visit to a patisserie (when my housemate Sara fainted), visit to the Cathedral of Tours (with a history professor, it was fascinating!), and tonight a concert.

At the patisserie, the pastry chef who gave us a presentation irritated me a bit. He kept praising his method - where he avoided at almost all costs, or at least provided for alternative methods to, modernization. "You can't find that where you come from," he kept saying. Then, when he would ask us to confirm his view of the US where "all you want to do is modernize," the people standing closest to him (we were a big group) didn't say anything - probably because they didn't know how to convey respectful disagreement and explain the presence of artisans, etc. And the Amish? Hmm.

In class this week I gave an expose - I volunteered to change days so it was a bit last minute - and it went fine. I talked about the movie "La science des reves" ("The Science of Dreams) which was really interesting. It's directed/written by Michel Gondry, who also did "Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind," which I prefer. Basically, the movie is a mix of dreams and daydreams and internal reality and external reality and how they all mess each other up in the worst of situations. I recommend it just because there are some really sad moments (I cried - the opening credits are even really touching) and some hilarious moments - and the movie is 70% English, 30% French, so you have to pretty much be fluent in English to get a lot of the jokes.

My family has been good. The other night, Francois and Nathalie told us that Nathalie and the kids were going to psychiatrists to deal with what happened while they were in Lebanon. That was kind of important that they told us that, I think, because mainstream French culture doesn't look to fondly on psychologists/psychiatrists (at least according to anthropologist Raymonde Carroll's book that I had to read for the program). It was particularly appropriate that they told us, however, since we had been talking a lot about people we had recently lost and the distance we create between death and ourselves in the modern world. It turns out that my housemate's mother had recently died, which I had no idea about. Also, the other night, Thibault (11 yrs old) had accidentally kicked a box on the floor during dinner, and Nathalie screamed because the sound was so similar to that of bombs (which she apparently heard a lot of while in Lebanon).

We've gone out a few times - just to cafes, bars, etc. All I really want to do is go dancing, which we haven't done yet, but I have discovered that I do like sugary white wine (which I'm sure makes me a connoisseur). We drink it often at dinner. Francois also has "rosé" which is really dry and I don't like. Oh, and I almost forgot, the other night we had some pasta dish that strangely resembled skyline chili!

Anyway, last night, we did go to an Irish pub, and while I was waiting in the bathroom - which by the way, is co-ed, with two separate stalls with actual wall-to-ceiling doors that lock - I said something about the sink to a guy in French, and then we realized we both spoke English, it was too weird - he had an Irish accent and we were at an Irish pub but everyone was speaking French.

Today, we had class in the morning, but we didn't have an atelier this afternoon so a group of girls and I - I've met some really nice people here, including some people from Georgetown - went to a Lebanese restaurant that was *delicious*. I split a vegetarian plate that included hummus, a spinach-filled filo dough thing, salad, rice, and falafel, and of course pita bread. It was probably the best lunch I've had since I've been here. Then, I grabbed a diet coke (a can for 1euro30!!!!!!!) and 50 grams (I've learned to economize) of frasinettes, these squishy strawberry candies that were a nice snack.

Now I'm just working on lining up stuff for second semester and figuring out what classes I'm going to take in Paris!

I am really excited about my classes at Paris 7 (Denis-Diderot) and Sweet Briar. At Sweet Briar, I'm taking a class on North African writers and the body (I'm so excited about this one, I actually met one of the authors when she came to Georgetown because I asked her a question at a reception after a presentation that she gave, I was brave) and a class called "Atelier d'ecriture" which basically focuses really intensely on writing and grammar - which is exactly what I'd like, just to iron out my French. At Paris 7, I'm going to go to about 6 classes at the beginning - Sociology and Anthropology - and decide which ones I like the best. One of them that I am really excited about discusses specifically the sociology of gender. The only problem is that I'd rather not return to France in January to take exams, so I have to get professors' permission to have the exams sent to Georgetown, where I would have to go take them. Otherwise, I'd have to fly back to France in January, just to take a handful of exams, which could be expensive (of course) and really irritating. This is simply a Georgetown policy though - all of the other students work through Sweet Briar and don't have to approach the professors themselves. Georgetown just has a policy that we have to take the exams, unless the professors themselves make special arrangements with us. It's really irritating.

Tonight, I'm going to a concert of classic French music, which will be fun. I haven't slept enough this week, so I'd also like to go to relax and go to bed at a decent time. Tomorrow, I'm supposed to go to a Chateaux visit, but I'm also supposed to go see my friend Coline - who lived at Georgetown with me last year when she was an exchange student. She lives in Tours and just got back from visiting her boyfriend in DC, and I'd reallllly like to see her and meet her family. I would almost miss the Castle visit itself just to go to her house and hang out with her (!!), but hopefully we'll be able to work something out.

Tours, France

Thursday, August 24th – Departure through Sunday, August 27
After a week of visiting friends, my mom and I left Pearl and Sanjeev’s in the morning of the 24th for a 4-hour long shuttle to the JFK airport, followed by a day of waiting, passive-aggressive “Academic Arrangements Abroad” procedures, airplane delays, bad cell phone service (at inopportune times), etc. Mom finished her book 1776, though, bravo! On the plane, I managed to sit next to Ali Retson, a friend from Georgetown, and we both ordered red wine (free on Air France) to help us sleep; if you know me, that doesn’t really take much. The movies on the plane were pretty disappointing – I ended up watching one about a family that takes in a housekeeper who ends up being the murderous mother of the female head of the household. It was a drama, if you can believe that, and pretty much just not very interesting. It was British, but Patrick Swayze played the mother’s lover. Anyway, we landed on time in Paris despite an almost two-hour wait on the runway for take-off. At baggage claim, I started talking to a girl named Sara, who is an Amherst college Sociology major whose dad is from Algeria. Oddly enough, we are rooming together in Tours, which is almost impossible (there are about 70-some students).

We met our Tours host father, François, on Thursday, but his wife, Nathalie, was visiting her mother outside of Paris with her children. Nathalie grew up in Lebanon and was there with her kids when the war started; the military got them out at the end of July. I finally met her today (Sunday), and she speaks Arabic, French, and some English (maybe not as much as François thinks). She is very animated, dynamic, and I can already see some parts of the “Cultural Misunderstandings” Anthropology book present; for example, she argues with François a lot, usually about intellectual subjects or even things like how badly he cooked the chicken, and these disagreements occur in front of their children and Sara and me. In the US, I think that this would make for an uncomfortable situation; here, within French culture, couples who argue as such are seen to be healthy. People who have a good relationship can freely criticize each other without others assuming they are having problems.

The food that we have had has also been good, and it is kind of nice to be back to the somewhat familiar pattern of eating: fruit/salad or both, then always bread with the entrée, followed by fruit/cheese, then sometimes yogurt, and coffee/tea if desired. I also have to say that I hate diet coke here – Coca-Cola light – it tastes different.

I am sleeping in the daughter, Amadine’s, room, and Sara is sleeping in a guest room connected to mine.

Today, the family came home (Nathalie and the kids), so I met them all for the first time. Amadine is 13, Thibault is 11, and Eliot is 6/7 (?). They are all really cute, and they argue just like American kids, but it’s good to practice listening to them – that’s why I may request a family with young kids if I live with a family in Paris.

As for shopping, I bought a cell phone (my number, from the US, is 0033613651786 – that includes the country code). It is really expensive to make calls (over half a dollar a minute, normally), but it is free to receive calls. Text messages are much cheaper, so I may be doing that instead, which is difficult since I never do that at home and it takes me a long time to punch in the correct letters…!

Throughout the weekend, Sara and I have had some really animated discussions with François about Anthropology, Sociology, culture, ‘social code,’ etc. He is really a smart man and he thinks a lot about very anthropological/sociological topics. He made a really fascinating comparison – he said that the conception of an atom extends all the way through our ‘cultures’ to the laws of the planets. First, he says, there is a stable center – the nucleus, a set of laws or normalities for a culture, and finally the sun for the planets (in our galaxy). Then there are electrons that swirl around outside, interacting with each other, all bound to circle the center nucleus. Those that do not manage to stay within the path cause a fissure in the case of an atom, are eliminated in the case of a culture (or break off to form another culture, perhaps with their own nucleus), or join another galaxy in the case of the planets. Anyway, he explained it a bit more eloquently and it was very well-said. He is really fascinating to talk to, but now that the kids are back I wouldn’t be surprised if he talks less and they speak more!

Today, Sunday, I went to a vide-grenier, a garage sale, with Amandine. I bought two bags – a black one that says ‘Cet été, je lis’ (This summer, I’m reading) on it, and a brown one that I like a lot, and that I thought I might be able to fit my computer inside (but to no avail). I also bought something else, but it’s a secret present so I can’t reveal that yet. We also had nutella crêpes, which everyone knows are delicious, and I guess they merited the almost half-hour long wait – two older women were making them, and some women with a little boy on a bike cut in front of us when it was just our turn. Earlier, Amandine had told us - when a woman gave me a bracelet for free when I bought a gorgeous necklace from her for 2 euros - "The French are kind like that." When the woman with the young boy cut in front of us - seriously, we had been waiting for almost 30 minutes - Amandine said, "Some French are like that, too."