I went to Paris for the weekend.
It's taken me some time to get over how casually I can say that ... but it's really not such a big deal given I'm only an hour's train ride away.
At first I was upset because I ended up spending €65 in train tickets ... a slightly painful fact when it is possible to get one-way tickets as low as €18.50 each. When I asked the woman at the train station why my ticket was so much more than that I couldn't understand what she said. So I vowed to find a French person who could explain it to me for future reference. In the meantime I am reminding myself that the fact that I can go to Paris for a weekend with little or no planning is one of the true wonders of living here. Besides, a plane ticket from Phoenix to Paris would cost hundreds of dollars.
So I went to Paris and had a great time. On Saturday morning a Frenchman named Jean Michel told me it would be the best day of my life because it was a beautiful day in Paris. He wasn't far off.
Tuesday, February 20, 2007
Monday, February 12, 2007
le iPod, and other musings from a quiet Sunday in France
Most of you would probably rather know more about what life is like in France than what I miss about the U.S., so immediately below you will find a post titled "Life in France" that will hopefully appease you.
But for those of you who aren't so picky, here is a story that is a little bit about music being a universal language, and a lot about how much I miss my iPod.
"I Pod before I go to work, Pod as soon as I get home. I have yet to get up in the middle of the night to Pod, but in principle I have nothing against the idea."
The quote is from a book I've been reading called "iPod, Therefore I Am" by British journalist Dylan Jones. He's made me laugh out loud repeatedly and, more importantly, made me miss my iPod as much as I miss my family. I am iPodsick.
I bought the little contraption about a year ago, just in time for a week-long trip to Europe. So why I ever thought I could last four months over here without it I have no idea. Luckily my wonderful older brother has agreed to get it fixed as a birthday present and send it to me and is going to great lengths to do so.
It quit working a few months ago, so it had to be sent away for healing. Once it comes back (hopefully in proper working order), Eli will likely have to refill my little black iPod with all my music ... which means a two-hour drive to get my computer from our mother's house. And since I have three to four times as many audio files (music + Margaret Cho) as will fit on the Nano, he will have to have instructions as to what to put on it. Then, he will have to pay to have it shipped to me here in France.
This really is quite a task, especially considering the poor guy has a full-time job and a full-time girlfriend. But once we (me and my iPod) are reunited, it will be the best birthday present ever.
Of course I miss my extensive Bad Religion collection, the play lists I made for each semester of college and the whimsical bunch of songs I've purchased off iTunes (mainly guilty pleasures like "New Age Girl" by Dead Eye Dick and "I Believe in a Thing Called Love" by The Darkness). But most of all I miss the instant gratification and rapid discovery that goes hand-in-hand with the iPod. iTunes makes it easy to look up any piece of music, listen to it and (if you like it) buy it in a snap.
The whole process appeals to my love of the eclectic. It's easy and cheap to get the one Britney Spears song I like (Toxic) without any of her other crap. I love that I can express exactly how I feel at any given moment by throwing together a playlist with any songs I want, be they "I Will Survive," "The Idiots are Taking Over" or "Eleanor Rigby."
But right now the thing that saddens me most is that without iTunes or my iPod I have no way of making a new soundtrack for my life in France.
The 10 Songs I'd be Listening to Right Now if I Could:
Immigrant Song, Led Zeppelin
Cease, Bad Religion
Satan, Lend Me a Dollar, Hill of Beans
Sleeping In, The Postal Service
That French song from the iPod Shuffle commercial
Snakes on a Plane, Cobra Starship (Don't judge, it makes me laugh)
Mine for Life, The Sounds
Accordion music (I hear it here and I feel like I am in a movie set in France)
Tiny Dancer, Elton John
Eleanor Rigby, The Beatles
But for those of you who aren't so picky, here is a story that is a little bit about music being a universal language, and a lot about how much I miss my iPod.
"I Pod before I go to work, Pod as soon as I get home. I have yet to get up in the middle of the night to Pod, but in principle I have nothing against the idea."
The quote is from a book I've been reading called "iPod, Therefore I Am" by British journalist Dylan Jones. He's made me laugh out loud repeatedly and, more importantly, made me miss my iPod as much as I miss my family. I am iPodsick.
I bought the little contraption about a year ago, just in time for a week-long trip to Europe. So why I ever thought I could last four months over here without it I have no idea. Luckily my wonderful older brother has agreed to get it fixed as a birthday present and send it to me and is going to great lengths to do so.
It quit working a few months ago, so it had to be sent away for healing. Once it comes back (hopefully in proper working order), Eli will likely have to refill my little black iPod with all my music ... which means a two-hour drive to get my computer from our mother's house. And since I have three to four times as many audio files (music + Margaret Cho) as will fit on the Nano, he will have to have instructions as to what to put on it. Then, he will have to pay to have it shipped to me here in France.
This really is quite a task, especially considering the poor guy has a full-time job and a full-time girlfriend. But once we (me and my iPod) are reunited, it will be the best birthday present ever.
Of course I miss my extensive Bad Religion collection, the play lists I made for each semester of college and the whimsical bunch of songs I've purchased off iTunes (mainly guilty pleasures like "New Age Girl" by Dead Eye Dick and "I Believe in a Thing Called Love" by The Darkness). But most of all I miss the instant gratification and rapid discovery that goes hand-in-hand with the iPod. iTunes makes it easy to look up any piece of music, listen to it and (if you like it) buy it in a snap.
The whole process appeals to my love of the eclectic. It's easy and cheap to get the one Britney Spears song I like (Toxic) without any of her other crap. I love that I can express exactly how I feel at any given moment by throwing together a playlist with any songs I want, be they "I Will Survive," "The Idiots are Taking Over" or "Eleanor Rigby."
But right now the thing that saddens me most is that without iTunes or my iPod I have no way of making a new soundtrack for my life in France.
The 10 Songs I'd be Listening to Right Now if I Could:
Immigrant Song, Led Zeppelin
Cease, Bad Religion
Satan, Lend Me a Dollar, Hill of Beans
Sleeping In, The Postal Service
That French song from the iPod Shuffle commercial
Snakes on a Plane, Cobra Starship (Don't judge, it makes me laugh)
Mine for Life, The Sounds
Accordion music (I hear it here and I feel like I am in a movie set in France)
Tiny Dancer, Elton John
Eleanor Rigby, The Beatles
Life in France
I've become so accustomed to life here that I often have to stop and remind myself that I am in France. Sometimes I literally stop in my tracks and look around for something very French (a row of 18th Century Houses, funny little cars) just to be sure.
The reality of life here is -- in some ways -- not all that different than it is at home. I go about my daily routine, eating, sleeping, studying and hanging out with friends. But there are two major differences that remind me I'm not in Kansas anymore. First of all, everything I do (except sleep) is split between two languages. I think in both English and French and sometimes the wrong language comes out at the wrong time (such as saying "sorry" to a stranger or "et you?" instead of "et toi?" when a friend has asked me how I am doing). It's hard for me to switch back and forth -- once I am in French mode I like to stay there, but obviously my limited vocabulary can't handle that for long.
Another thing I've noticed when speaking to the French students in my residence is that, in French, I sound like a really boring person. It took me years to become a decent conversationalist in English, but now I am back at square one with French -- again, largely a vocabulary problem.
The other thing about living here that keeps me out of my comfort zone is the mélange of cultures represented among all the international students. This is probably my favorite thing about being here so far. On Friday night I went out with two Canadians, an Australian, a Polish guy, a French girl, two Romanians and another guy who is French and German ... and me, the lone American. Four different languages were flying around and the Eastern Europeans yelled at me when I didn't look them in the eye during a toast (Santé!). But for the most part, when we are all going out for a beer and a good time, we seem the same.
The reality of life here is -- in some ways -- not all that different than it is at home. I go about my daily routine, eating, sleeping, studying and hanging out with friends. But there are two major differences that remind me I'm not in Kansas anymore. First of all, everything I do (except sleep) is split between two languages. I think in both English and French and sometimes the wrong language comes out at the wrong time (such as saying "sorry" to a stranger or "et you?" instead of "et toi?" when a friend has asked me how I am doing). It's hard for me to switch back and forth -- once I am in French mode I like to stay there, but obviously my limited vocabulary can't handle that for long.
Another thing I've noticed when speaking to the French students in my residence is that, in French, I sound like a really boring person. It took me years to become a decent conversationalist in English, but now I am back at square one with French -- again, largely a vocabulary problem.
The other thing about living here that keeps me out of my comfort zone is the mélange of cultures represented among all the international students. This is probably my favorite thing about being here so far. On Friday night I went out with two Canadians, an Australian, a Polish guy, a French girl, two Romanians and another guy who is French and German ... and me, the lone American. Four different languages were flying around and the Eastern Europeans yelled at me when I didn't look them in the eye during a toast (Santé!). But for the most part, when we are all going out for a beer and a good time, we seem the same.
Thursday, February 8, 2007
Il neige!
Well, that should be in past tense. It snowed last night, which meant a long, slushy walk to la Catho this morning. I didn't mind except for the cold water that filled my shoes... My first class of the day is geography with a man named Arnaud ... he asked the class "Qui vient de Tempe, Arizona?" When I replied, "Moi," he asked whether it snows in Arizona... "Non," I replied. I know it does snow in Arizona (and did recently, right?) but it's been ages since I've seen it. I haven't learned degrees centigrade yet, but all the French just say "Il fait très, très froid." -- It's very, very cold. Je suis d'accord.
Monday, February 5, 2007
Belgium - Land of waffles, chocolate and Colin Farrell
That's right, I said Colin Farrell. Our first day in Belgium we visited a pretty little city called Brugges (which means witch in Flemish) where Colin Farrell is apparently filming a movie for the next 40 days. (http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0780536/) The rest of the country was lovely ... full of gauffres (Belgian waffles), nice people and pretty buildings, but Farrell was really the highlight.
We were sitting on a bridge where they were going to film and a nice Belgian guy named Deter who was working as Farrell's stand-in told us what was going on. Five minutes later Colin Farrell walked by, said hello to us and said to my friend Kathy, "Ah, you've got a lovely smile," complete with Irish accent.
We spent half the day hanging around with the production crew, talking to Deter, Farrell's assistant and another (smaller) actor in the movie. It was a lot of fun, but finally we moved on to more typical tourist activities like climbing the 366 steps to the top of a belfry for a great view of the city and having cappucinos and a delicious gauffre in a café on the square.
The rest of the trip couldn't really compete with seeing Colin Farrell, but we had a good time and saw some really old buildings. We also had a grouchy old man yell at us in a frite shop in Gent, someone's wallet was stolen (not mine), and I found the metro in Brussels to be very dirty - sometimes smelling stongly of urine.
But it is only a 30 minute train ride from Brussels to Lille and I was surprised to find myself happy to be back in France. I never thought it would be possible, but this place is starting to feel like home.
P. S.
I have pictures of Belgium (including Colin Farrell) that I hope to post soon.
We were sitting on a bridge where they were going to film and a nice Belgian guy named Deter who was working as Farrell's stand-in told us what was going on. Five minutes later Colin Farrell walked by, said hello to us and said to my friend Kathy, "Ah, you've got a lovely smile," complete with Irish accent.
We spent half the day hanging around with the production crew, talking to Deter, Farrell's assistant and another (smaller) actor in the movie. It was a lot of fun, but finally we moved on to more typical tourist activities like climbing the 366 steps to the top of a belfry for a great view of the city and having cappucinos and a delicious gauffre in a café on the square.
The rest of the trip couldn't really compete with seeing Colin Farrell, but we had a good time and saw some really old buildings. We also had a grouchy old man yell at us in a frite shop in Gent, someone's wallet was stolen (not mine), and I found the metro in Brussels to be very dirty - sometimes smelling stongly of urine.
But it is only a 30 minute train ride from Brussels to Lille and I was surprised to find myself happy to be back in France. I never thought it would be possible, but this place is starting to feel like home.
P. S.
I have pictures of Belgium (including Colin Farrell) that I hope to post soon.
Wednesday, January 31, 2007
A few of my favorite things
Everyone is always asking me how I like France. That's a tough question to answer in a few sentences, so I've made a few lists to help you get the picture of what life here is really like:
Things I Miss:
Coffee
All of you
Starbucks
Grey's Anatomy
My car
Newspapers I can actually understand
Things that makes me say "Vive la France"
Good, cheap wine
Being able to walk everywhere
The Nutella effect (anything chocolate-hazelnut flavored)
Despite the fact that the French are extremey fashion-conscious, there isn't the same overt obsession with looks that you find at ASU
Coffee drink vending machines
Meeting people from different cultures
Things that make me say "I hate France"
Getting lost on a daily basis because the classrooms are always changing (Didn't Harry Potter have that problem?)
Carrefour on a Saturday afternoon (think Wal-Mart the day after Christmas, but everything is in French)
The bathrooms
French people who don't like foreigners
Things I Miss:
Coffee
All of you
Starbucks
Grey's Anatomy
My car
Newspapers I can actually understand
Things that makes me say "Vive la France"
Good, cheap wine
Being able to walk everywhere
The Nutella effect (anything chocolate-hazelnut flavored)
Despite the fact that the French are extremey fashion-conscious, there isn't the same overt obsession with looks that you find at ASU
Coffee drink vending machines
Meeting people from different cultures
Things that make me say "I hate France"
Getting lost on a daily basis because the classrooms are always changing (Didn't Harry Potter have that problem?)
Carrefour on a Saturday afternoon (think Wal-Mart the day after Christmas, but everything is in French)
The bathrooms
French people who don't like foreigners
Tuesday, January 30, 2007
l'education
After my first week in France, the harsh reality set in that my true purpose for being here is, in fact, to study. But now that I've gotten through the first week I feel ready to learn me some French.
I am taking six classes in French - Advanced French for Foreign Students, English to French Translation, French Geography, French History, Introduction to Mythology and Study of Modern Art. They are not easy.
As for classes in English, I've got five of those; Britain in the World, American Civilization (the classes I'm taking cover specifically America in the Fifties, our judicial system and our higher education system), British History, English Literature and Religious Drama.
The French system for registering and scheduling classes is, by American standards, utterly insane. Classrooms can change at any time so you have to check the location every day. To sign up for classes, we all piled into a big room with the schedules posted on the walls and you just have to shove your way around to see them. It didn't help that the names of the courses didn't always match those in the course catalogs we were given.
Oddly, their way of teaching is much more efficient than what I'm used to. There generally are no required textbooks, and the "recommended" books are in the library. The teachers lecture on everything you need to know, but that means you have to go to class and take good notes every day (I usually leave an hour and a half class with four pages of notes).
But professors don't have office hours and they don't give you any contact information, nor their first names. Classes seldom start on time. People can usually tell just by looking at you that you're not French.
I am taking six classes in French - Advanced French for Foreign Students, English to French Translation, French Geography, French History, Introduction to Mythology and Study of Modern Art. They are not easy.
As for classes in English, I've got five of those; Britain in the World, American Civilization (the classes I'm taking cover specifically America in the Fifties, our judicial system and our higher education system), British History, English Literature and Religious Drama.
The French system for registering and scheduling classes is, by American standards, utterly insane. Classrooms can change at any time so you have to check the location every day. To sign up for classes, we all piled into a big room with the schedules posted on the walls and you just have to shove your way around to see them. It didn't help that the names of the courses didn't always match those in the course catalogs we were given.
Oddly, their way of teaching is much more efficient than what I'm used to. There generally are no required textbooks, and the "recommended" books are in the library. The teachers lecture on everything you need to know, but that means you have to go to class and take good notes every day (I usually leave an hour and a half class with four pages of notes).
But professors don't have office hours and they don't give you any contact information, nor their first names. Classes seldom start on time. People can usually tell just by looking at you that you're not French.
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