Mandela and Vending Machines

I'd like to start off saying that I think I just found my new motto.

"If you talk to a man in a language he understands, that goes to his head. If you talk to him in his language, that goes to his heart."

Nelson Mandela

(Thank you, Mom, who forwarded this to me via e-mail!)

By the way, isn't it cool that South Africa just got done celebrating the 20th anniversary of his liberation. Now they're getting ready for the World Cup being hosted in their country. It is just South Africa's year I think with one significant thing after another!

I wish I could say I have anything significant going on. Really, I'm just getting ready for my first two day trip this weekend. Day 1, I'll be in Chenonceaux, and Day 2, I'll be Amboise. I choose these two places because...

1) They have very significant chateaus and pretty ones at that. Chenonceaux was home to more grands dames than I can think of right now and Amboise is the resting place of Leonardo Da Vinci.

2) They are super, super easy to reach with just a train and a pair of feet. Also they rest in small towns that have a lot of charming stores, hotels, B&Bs, and restaurants.

I was considering adding the city of Tours to my list and use it as a headquarters because almost all chateaus have roads and/or tracks that lead to Tours. However, after consideration that there is way to much in Tours to fit in fairly during a weekend like this, I decided to ditch it and spend the night in Chenonceaux.

Let's hope it goes well.

Moving on to another subject, I've been collecting more and more American things in France. Some may be surprising, others not. For instance, these are the vending machines in the main lobby of the building where CIDEF is located.

To students like me outside of France, if you want the cheapest prices for soda, snacks, coffee, whatever, it would be at the school's vending machines. As a general rule, ANYTHING that is meant to be targeted to a student audience is cheaper. For instance, the cheapest, biggest meal you can get is with the university cafeterias doted around Angers. However, note that the reason it is the cheapest and the biggest is that it is governement subsidized. Truely, I have noted, government food is governement food whether in the U.S. or France. Go in ready for an adventure each time because it could be pretty good or a plain mystery. I haven't gotten sick yet though!

I found this in Le Point which is basically the French Newsweek or Time. This would be an ad for their Fillet-O-Fish or as they call it in France,....Fillet-O-Fish. (Insert laugh at my own joke here.) In case you're curious, this ad claims that all Fillet-O-Fish's in France are made with fish that is 100% wild caught.

This next photo is courtesy of the cute Thai boy I mentioned in one post. He says his name is just too complicated to anyone who isn't Thai so he has everyone call him A. You say is just like the English pronunciation of "A." Super, super easy. He has been studying the whole year so this is actually his second semester. He and his family live in downtown Bangkok where his parents own a top-of-the-line fashion store (I need to take a picture of him because he LOOKS like the kid of fashion store owners). Anyway, he says he is a Starbucks addict because they are everywhere back home and found this so of course had to get it. Can I call this an American thing from France and Thailand, then?

La Poste and American Things in France

It is funny how we can anticipate something to be very easy and end up being harder than we thought (please refer to "The Epic Battle Between My U.S. Debit Card and The European 'Chip and Pin' system""). Then there are the times when we are so sure that something is going to be complicated and it isn't at all. Finally, I had an experience like that yesterday. (Yes, I did have time to write yesterday but I had caught the lazy bug and watched Les Jeux Olypiques with my host family instead and ogling lean-muscled, pretty French skier boy, Vincent Jay).


I had three post cards to send out and I was absolutely certain there would something different about the French postal system that I'd have to wrap my head around and maybe buy 20 euros worth of stamps if I was lucky to get these stupid pieces of paper state-side! I went up to the very stern face French postal worker and quietly explained I wanted to send these postcards to the U.S. and would like to know what stamps I needed to buy. "Trois cartes-postales? Trois Marianne's." he simple replied and asked for 2,55 euros for the three Marianne's what is apparently a postal nickname for a standard French 0,85 euro stamp with the allegory of France, a rugged-looking woman named Marianne. Joy! I hope my recipients get there post cards without problem!


Also I have taken to also occupying myself with "American Things in France" of which I notice many. I figure not everyone is as fascinated with dogs or food as I am but they may take an interest in the enormous American influence here in France. Before I came here, I had an idea that my side of the world had an influence on the world. However, I couldn't really comprehend to what extent until now. It is both fun and terribly bizarre. There are times other American students and I experience what I call the "Alice in Wonderland Effect." It is all so familiar and yet NOT. So here is the beginning of what I hope is another interesting theme. For now, we have a couple of books.

Yes, it is Twilight. Yes, those are titles like Tentation and Hésitation. If you ask me, the French make Twilight sexy....I'll be waiting for those responses like "What?!? You thought it wasn't already sexy?" In a word, no. But that is neither here nor there now because with words like that, how can't it have just a little bit of sexiness à la Française? Hmm?

Of course, my French family was quick to make sure when the subject of Dan Brown came up that I didn't actually believe everything he wrote in the story about the Catholic Church and France. I was happy to tell them I didn't at all.


I've noticed that this is a hugely popular cookbook in stores at the moment. It is still fascinating to me that is a point of curiousity to the French that American breakfasts are as large as they are. The idea of a complete breakfast here is a croissant or other pastry and a chocolat (think super thick, creamy hot chocolate drink) or café. Thankfully, my host family has some other (and I think healthier) options to eat. Inside the book there is are recipes for pumpkin pie that tries to pass off as a Halloween tradition, Thanksgiving turkey, gumbo, and chili con carne among many, many others. On the chili note, every French person I've talked food with so far has been certain that chili con carne is the only kind of chili in existence and were shocked to learn that there are really hundreds of varieties usually based on household and region in the States. Yes, North American food may not include snails or goose liver but it can be complicated to comprehend and goes beyond le hamburger thank you very much!

All for now. Will come back with more!

St. Malo and Mont St-Michel

I'm so happy to present to you all another photo-filled post! It was a very nice adventure yesterday, the most tame I've taken so far because the whole trip was very scheduled and planned out for us. But I didn't care. I got to try mussels for the first time at St. Malo! That is where we'll start.

There were three bus loads of CIDEF students. I was on bus 1 which happened to be the one bus we borrowed from Angers local semi-professional Football team. Snazzy, no?

St. Malo happens to be a major French port and has been for centuries. It is now used primarily for British imports.

I hung out with Heidi all day and had a very good time as she is as willing to try different things as much as me, including storming the local chateau/museum. This is her!


Up the main tower of the chateau, we took great amusement with the tiny doors everywhere (shown here) and also the AMAZING views of the Atlantic and the town.


This would be the flag of St. Malo...


I continue "The French and Their Dogs" theme! I would show cats, too, but they just don't have the same constant presence of dogs.

And just before leaving, Heidi and I joined another American named James who is from Oregon for lunch at a place that was having a "Moules-Frites" special that day. Mussels are a new favorite of mine now! You might notice I also had a boule of Cidre de Bretagne. I find it very tasty and usually one can order the sweet or hard version, both being alcoholic though. I've had both and like the hard taste to compliment all my food and the sweet just by itself.


Next was Mont St-Michel and it touristy without any doubt. Bring a lot of money if you plan on purchasing ANYTHING, even a trip to the bathroom. The isle itself is fascinating to walk through with the high concentration of touristy goods and food. The monastery was breathtaking for me. Probably because of all the stairs but really it has a majesty and mystic quality I've almost never experienced before. You need to get to the monastery somehow and as Monsieur later told me, it is all a part of the pilgrimage experience. Too true.





No, I can't keep away from the dogs, especially not clever ones who can carry their own leashes. Dogs were everywhere at Mont St-Michel except at the monastery where they were forbidden.




The monastery was of course my focus and what a good focus to have. Despite the commercialism surrounding it, I wasn't at all disappointed with the legend that is THE Mont St-Michel.





Believe me, the pictures I have and the rooms and chapels there are exhaustive and there is not enough time to load all of them on this post. These are just some of my favorites. Before I finish, I leave you with one last Mon St-Michel dog.

Classes

I just got out of classes for the day. I start Fridays at 8AM with oral expression which isn't bad but isn't stimulating either for me at this point in time as the pace of activites is rather slow. Our teacher is a young woman who is a French student at UCO, earning what is the French equivalent to a Master Degree in the Foreign Languages. She's only about three years older than me I believe. Her specialty is English which I have hear her speak. She's rather good. However, a young teacher is still a young teacher over here. Her lack of savvy shows as to the nature of students and especially students who are naturally timid to just talk in a second language. Still, I'm going to give the class time. We've still got over three months to liven things up!

I'm also taking, as you know, my general language class. Wow, it is interesting and I say that with a multitude of significations. First, plain and simple, I am getting the technical fine tuning in there that I've been craving for a while. Little rules with article usage, prepositions, etc. have always been a downfall for me but I've been developing them more and more. The teacher is very expereinced and has a very good idea about the nature and abilities of her students and what they need to move forward. I have not come across a single piece of homework or in class activity that hasn't had a progressive purpose. It is also an interesting class as the the under layer of activity. Ah, I hate to do it because I feel like I'm bashing my own country but the Americans! Of course, I'm ONLY talking about an exclusive group in my classes who will talk in class (in English), whisper to me and asking what the homework was (in English), and smack talk the teacher and calling her a bitch in the halls just outside the classroom (in English). One of them one time proudly announced that the only time she enjoyed going to the general language class was when she came in drunk. As I'm sure you imagine, they use no discretion about their opinion of the class or the teacher. The teacher, God love her, shows no reaction to their attitude and lets none of it interfere with her teaching.

This American group (almost exclusively made up of girls) and others similar to them I have found are well noticed by the other nationalities attending UCO. I was talking outside of class to a girl from California (but who goes to Boston, Mass. for school) named Heidi Wroblicky in French. One of the reasons I have taken to love hanging out with Heidi outside of class is because not only do we have our shared American background and similar reactions to French culture but she is actually happy to have a whole conversation in French with me. Suddenly, a cute Thai boy from Bangkok came up to us in the hall and asked in French if we were Americans because he was kind of confused and thought that we looked like the Americans but maybe not. I gave him a puzzled looked and said, "Um, ya, we're Americans. Why do you ask?" And he responded very straightforwardly, that we were actually talking in French and not English and ALL the Americans kids around here only talk in English outside of class. He was just surprised and kind of appreciated that we actually bothered.

I share this story if anything because I know the people of the bilingual world of the Illinois School for the Deaf would understand the meanings here completely.

My other three classes are just plain enjoyable, Cultural Studies/Economics, Art History, and Literature. The Culture teacher is the most bubbly and optimisitc Frenchwoman I've yet met and currently we are diccussing the make up of the French population and will dive into what is a French citizen next week, a very interesting topic as currently France has been experiencing immigrant waves from old colonies such as in Africa, changing the physical portrait of the typical French citizen. Also, many of these new citizens are Muslim as well, opening up another set of issues concerning Islamic verses French traditions.

When have just finished Neo-Classicim in Art History and have been looking at Romantisicim for a day and a half. The class is simple and easy compared to what I've studied back home but it is incredibly facinately all the same to see paintings I've laready studied intensly through American eyes now through French eyes. There's is certainly a difference. I am really looking forward to the rest up until our contemporary time.

Litterature is where I think my mind has to work the hardest. We have just finished skimming the surface of Alcool by Apollinaire. The man is, of course, one of the most beautiful poets I've ever read with his melancholic and bewitching verses. He is also a man of word play and is a master at it. I've had to look up a lot of comentary about his specific poems and use the dictionary with abandon but by the end of each examination I have this liberating and accomplished feeling that is just addictive. I must then read more. The other two major reads for the semester are Isabelle by André Gide and La Cantatrice chauvre by Eugène Ionesco.

For those of you who like order in their lives, I'd like to scare you a little with the idea of having a class schedule like mine. Enjoy! (Ah, and I should mention that the classes don't tend to meet in the same room all the time.)

Monday:
Language: 2:30-4:45PM
Oral Expression: 5:00-5:55PM

Tuesday:
Social Economics: 8:00-8:55AM
Art History: 10:15-11:15AM
Language: 1:30-3:30PM

Wednesday:
Social Economics: 10:15AM-12:15PM
Art History: 1:30- 2:25PM
Oral Expression: 2:30-3:30PM
Literature: 5:00-5:55PM

Thursday:
Literature: 1:30-3:30PM

Friday:
Oral Expression: 8:00-8:55AM
Language: 10:15AM-12:15PM
Art History: 1:30-2:45PM

The Epic Battle Between My U.S. Debit Card and The European "Chip and Pin" system

Ever had a time when your card wasn't accepted because there was no more money in it? Well, ever had a time when your card wasn't accepted and there was still tons of money in it? They just honest-to-goodness don't like the way your card is set up? Yep, it happened to me. For almost a week now up until yesterday, I had been thinking to myself every other chance I had to figure out how to get more money or I should say more of MY money.

It is up to American in Europe to search not solely for an ATM, restaurant, or store to use a credit or debit card for that instance but to also search for one of these things to accept your American credit or debit card. I have had to learn in the challenging way how Europe's "more advanced and protected" "chip and pin system" works. Europeans no longer use a bar and signature system like we do and haven't since the late nineties, about the time the Euro came into being. A signature is no longer good enough to their eyes. To authenticate your ownership you MUST have your PIN at the ready as well as an encoded chip in the card. This thankfully isn't to say that the good ol' bar won't work here. American cards DO WORK HERE. Though it is rather like trying to download a PC program onto a Mac. Possible, but not without a little extra effort.

It is just a pain in the tuckus finding well-informed store owners/ bank-tellers who understand and know the differences and how to work with them. Pretty much all of them looked at me like they should call the insane asylum with all my strange talk of bars and "Ma carte a un bar. Est-ce qu'il y a un distributeur automatique qui peut traiter une carte avec un bar?!?!?!" They respond with "Bar? You mean like this? (shows a European card- the bar is on them by the way. I do not know why but only that the chip is what is important...and the pin number)" "Yes!" I respond, "But what I don't have is the chip!" Then they shrug their shoulders to which I can only say then, "Alors, merci, monsieur/madame. Bonne journée (walks out dejected leaving a very confused employee)."

This was until Madame asked about my day yesterday after I had got done with one of my hunts and I explained my situation to which she was also confused. Suddenly Jean-Bapiste launched in, saying, "Oh yeah, that's sounds about right. The U.S. system would definitely find some incompatibility with the European system." He then gave a lecture to his mother that I listened in on and later confirmed on the Internet about everything that I just explained essentially.

Later, Monsieur, who is an accountant and thus kind of knows a thing or two about banks to put it mildly, printed up a list of ATMs that should work for me and which so far have! So I had two miracles in one day (in case you haven't been paying attention). I can now get money with no problem and I could comprehend J.B. for once. I don't know if it was because he was speaking slower or I've been getting better. I'll go far enough to maybe say a little of both.

Food-Filled Valentine's Day: Part Deux

Alas, I have to put a disclaimer here and admit there are no photos of this day. I thought it might be a little obnoxious and I was nervous as it was entering and eating in the homes of complete French strangers. In retrospect, I'm sure it wouldn't have been a big deal. So, sorry everyone!

Okay, so how do I describe the comparison between the country attitude of France as compared to the United States? Well, to start, my first impression of Monsieur's parents was not unlike meeting two more elderly members of my hometown. They were both incredibly warm and down-to-earth. Monsieur's mother kept an eagle's eye on the appetites of the children and me to make sure we had enough to eat. I have never said, "Oh, no, no, no. Thank you! But I've just had so much already! Well, if I don't want to be impolite.....why, yes!" so much in so many different ways ever before. Monsieur's father insisted, "Here, as far as you're concerned Mademoiselle, I'm called Papi. You got that?" and then he gave a smile that I'm sure covered 75% of his face. Between the honest, simple attitude and the lived-in feeling of their big comfortable home in the middle of nowhere, I'd say that country is country whether you're in France or the States.

At this point for dinner after a grandiose lunch, if I were back home, AT MOST I'd have a small veggie salad if anything. But here, that doesn't work .

First, everyone had a small glass of Papi's homemade wine as Monsieur's mother brought out a noodle and broth soup and had the little girls bring out the baguettes. Then there was a carrot salad...or I think it was salad. It was carrots julienne with a sort of homemade mayonnaise dressing, bordered on a platter with hard-boiled eggs. After that...more wine, but at this point I figured out that by then it was okay to decline the wine and just have water. Thank God. Don't get me wrong! It was great wine; interesting, really. It had a smoky and very sweet flavor. I'd never thought of wine ever having a smoky taste but there we go.

The main course was a goose meat paté and green beans in a marinara sauce. Like every french home meal it seems, we then had a huge variety of cheese to eat. Here is where I'd like to point out one of my first lessons here about eating in France. Bread isn't just important, it is as indispensable as silverware. One uses almost always the same plate for every course and bread is used to wipe up and eat one's plate clean. There's no room for finicky eaters here or you're asking for an awkward situation. As for the cheese course, you must ALWAYS eat your cheese on bread. Doing so without is just, well, weird. So have learned to conserve my dinner baguette in order to have as much chèvre as I please without stares and questions. I love chèvre which I'm sure put me in the good book with Monsieur who may love cheese more than anyone I know. The man would be a connoisseur in the States, but I'm coming to find that here he is pretty much the average French man. They love cheese that much.

Then, there was dessert. Dessert is a standard. Not just for dinner, it is also hard to think of a decent lunch without ending it with something sweet adn this dessert was a round after round after round of gaufres with jam and then also a gateau drenched in some type of alcohol served with as much crème anglaise as you could want! Would you prefer vanilla or chocolate crème, because Monsieur's mother saw to that everyone at least tried both.

Finally, I left my stomach to its marathon workout while I slipped mint tea and watch the Swiss and the French kick American butt during the ski events at the Vancouver Oylpimics. "Don't worry," Papi assured me. "This isn't your (meaning the American's) strength anyway. You will always get away with a lot of metals for ice skating and during the Summer Games. Your times of triumph will always be there. In the meantime.....Vive la France!" Honestly, that is how he said it. I couldn't help but laugh and join his cheering when another Frenchman toppled the top scoring American's time. It was just a wonderful and satisfying day and I hope to have more sans the headache and stomachache by bedtime. Oh, well.

Vive la France!

What a Food-Filled Valentine's Day!

Ah, I just woke up after spending the whole day with the Peaud family as we visited Monsieur's entire family. In summary, my end-of-the-day reaction was a sore stomach and a sore head but in a good way.

We didn't start the day until 11:00 AM and first traveled to this little White Hall-equivalent French town, called Bressuire, deep in the Loire Valley French countryside. Like about any well-established town in the Loire Valley it would seem, this one, too, had its own chateau. It was interesting to look at as the exterior walls were obviously from the violent Middle Ages but tucked inside was a typical fancy Renaissance chateau built much later.

Living in Bressuire, is Monsieur's little brother, his brother's wife, and their three girls. The two oldest are in college. One is studying Chemistry and the other is studying Physics. Both parents are mathematical as well being both teachers in the Sciences and Maths. Dinner parties (or in this case, lunch parties) last hours at the table here truly. We sat down at 12:30 and didn't get up for a customary stroll though the town until about 5:00. About midway through my head was throbbing already. The way families communicate has proven to be the hardest for me to listen to and comprehend. Almost all grammar and especially vocabulary is in the familiar style. Then there is also the subject matter which can also be hard to follow even in an English setting thanks to the power of the inside joke.

I was apparently quite the pleasant and exotic presence at the table. I was exotique because I'm a foreigner and when I came to France, one of the first things I learned was that the French almost never step outside of their own country, even to go to Switzerland or Belgium. Hence, they find anything outside of their own world to be a big deal. I was pleasant (or at least I think I was pleasant) because I was one of the very few Americans they had met who was willing to only communicate in French. I was incredbly flattered when Monsieur introduced me as their American student this semester and that I prefer speaking French and do it rather well. I felt myself get red in the face and sputtered out a merci and disclaimer that I still had a ways to go in my French skills.

I have been slowly learning that the Americans and the British are known for their firm insistence on speaking English. This seems to be a point of insult to the French. Monsieur's brother and I discussed French chateaus during the post-lunch stroll and he explained the common trend for the British to buy French chateaus and stay their during their vacation time because to buy a house like that in England by comparison is ridiculously expensive. However, he said, they also only buy chateaus that are close to other British-owned chateaus so their are whole communities of British people throughout France but they have no wish to interact or participate in French life or with the French people.

Later, I asked why the French do not often travel outside of their country. I pointed out that I have traveled only in my country before just now but the United States in gigantic and it is common for Americans to also travel to Canada and Mexico as well. The idea of exploring only a country the size of Texas all my life strikes me as rather claustrophobic in comparison. They were very happy to respond, saying they France has many diverse regions to visit and also an incredibly rich culture with world-class museums and chateaus and made many suggestions as to where I should visit in the next few months which was very, very useful. They however also expressed sympathy for me in that the United States isn't so complex in its culture and all we have are the exceptional landforms and New York City. This was the only point of insult that I've so far experienced though I don't think it was intended to be insulting at all. Then they explained that there is also a language barrier to consider. EVERYWHERE, they emphasized, people speak English but not French. I can go anywhere they said and have no problem. As for them, they don't even like the idea of going to Switzerland, Quebec, or Belgium because even though they speak French, there are dialect differences.

As a side note for all the Germans out there, it amazes the French how much English the German people can speak and that it is so easy for them to communicate in it. I'm not sure what to think of that or what you think of that. I'd already let it slip earlier that I was related to some Germans.... so they looked to me for so sort of affirmation. I had to say of course that I did know some Germans who spoke amazing English. I felt too awkward with their incredibly confident opinion to mention that these same Germans are also dual citizens to Germany AND the United States. Yah, their English is superb. Having American mothers does that to a German kid.

But, hey, in summary it was truly a wonderful time. I will probably be back with part two of yesterday because my day wasn't done at all after that lunch. Next was round two with Monsieur's parents and sister where I got a taste of what is considered French rural life.

Guess where I was today!

So I found out that I was mistaken and that the Peaud's are going to the father's brother's home on Sunday and not Saturday. In my defense, Monsieur originally gave the invitation specifying only that it was the weekend. For some reason I surmised it was on Saturday because he first asked if I had any plans Saturday. Huh. Oh, well. So last night I was talking with Monsieur and Madame and having realized Saturday was open, I asked myself aloud to them what I should do? Madame suggested that, well, since I had that train pass, maybe Paris might be fun for a quick trip. The thought hadn't occured to me since I figured that a day trip to Paris might be too advanced in my travel skills but they were so confident I'd be fine, I responded with a sure-why-not answer.

So that's where I just back from and you know what? I'd say that one should only wish winter in Paris on their enemies! The wind isn't anywhere near are forceful as home but, man, does it bite! Since I figure I'll be back more weekends to come (when it is warmer....), I only visited the Luxembourg gardens, Saint Sulpice, and Notre Dame. Though it was cold, the gardens were rather nice for Parisian people gawking. To all my friends out there who like to jog, if you want to jog during your Paris stay, do it at the Gardens. It is obvious as soon as you step foot in there, it is a jogger's domain. Naturally though, because it was so cold, I wasn't there long.



Next, I went to Saint Sulpice. A natural choice as it is a Parisian block away from the Gardens, it became my favorite to visit at the end of the day. I say a "Parisian" block away because as a native-born Midwesterner, it took some time to keep my head straight when it came to comprehending the begininng and ending of streets here. I'm used to streets that end at a 90 degree angle corner. French streets end at corners that are more like points...or half circles....or slight turns....it depends.



I'd love to pause and take the time here to say bravo to Paris for an easy to use Metro system. I used the famed le Métro today and it was great. It was especially great because it got me out of the cold periodically.




Before Notre Dame, I HAD to get lunch and a warm one at that. The French idea of lunch is more like my idea of a big dinner. it makes me glad I have to walk a lot or my health would be in major trouble over here. However, I cannot stress enough how cold it was in Paris today. My feet were numb and I liked them that way because when they weren't numb, the cold pierced them like I was walking in shoes made of knives. Not pleasant at all. This situation called for la soupe à l'oignon, which is a bit of a comfort food of mine. On the River Gauche, I took my chances at a rustic-looking restaurant in a alley-like street nearby Notre Dame called Le Chat Qui Pêche. It seemed to me that eating at a restaurant called "The Fishing Cat" would at the very least leave me with a half-good story to tell later rather than something called like The Quasimodo Café or something like that.


I ended up being very happy I when because I was so cold and tired, I could talk straight in French. The server gave me a charmed smile and we ended up in a Franglais conversation and I got my soup...and the restaurant's plat du jour which was (ha!) salmon with a mustard sauce. I was definitely sensing a theme.



Notre Dame was great and yet disappointing after visiting Saint Sulpice. Visiting a place like the later was became a meditative experience for me. It was quiet and reverent. Worshipers kneeled in their silent prayers, art enthusiasts took their sweet time soaking in the building's ecceltic architecture design. There was no flash photography, loud tourists, and overpriced souvenirs just outside the door like Notre Dame. Yet, it had a energy of its own and I can appreciate that. I was still incredibly happy to have finally made it to at least those two Parisian churches.



Coming back to Angers, I was greeted by the Peaud family who, at least for the French student Feburary vacation, now include all three children in the house. Mathilde is gone for the weekend having apparently some girlfriend time so that leaves me with the two boys. Jean-Bapiste is without any doubt the intellectual type. He is also the left-brained type as his attention to language is completely lacking. This isn't to say he is rude or tries to confuse me when I'm trying to communicate with him. This is to say he ALWAYS talks in the informal type of French and he does it rapidly leaving me in the dust of the converstation. Madame and Monsieur had to remind him throughout the evening to speak slowly and completely and at the same time were kind enough to stop the conversation about his recent trip to Morocco for a school project in order to explain vocabulary they thought I might not understand. I had a hard time convincing them that almost all of my slow comprehension was just fatigue from a whole day trip to Paris.

It is times like these were I become so frustrated with my limited communication skills. I desperately want to show that I'm not as simple as I talk or comprehend. I actually think things that are complicated, REALLY COMPLICATED. I mean complicated as in I think about more than just observations about the weather or my classes or the ridiculous number of pigeons in Paris. I analyze and then I make conclusions about these observations and I like getting into conversations about them and then I have the habit as an English major of using unique, different vocabulary to express these things. So far, talking in French, I've barely broken through communicating the analyzing part successfully.

At least I got to go to Paris.

First Big Girl French Book

Quick Post! Just excited that we're starting with poetry by Apollinaire in his folio, Alcools. Very melancholic but beautiful. I'dh eard about him before but hadn't read any of his poetry in French. Of course, WAY BETTER in French though a challenge to read for someone at my level. My first poem to conquer this weekend is "Le Pont Mirabeau" which is about lost love. Really? Lost love as a theme to study over Valentine's Day weekend? Oh, well. Lost love can be beautiful in its own way, too, I suppose.

Goodness, a lot has been on my mind this week. Good news! I read the school guidelines and Oral Expression classes have no minimum student requirements, just a maximum which I believe is in the 12 to 15 range. The last time I looked at the list yesterday we were at five which seems like a really good number to me. I have so many good choices but only the time and sanity for a limited amount. It turns out the French-English translation class professor is a friend of Monsieur Peaud. Darn, because it sounds like he would have been good. A Japanese student told me that the class was hard but worth it because of how much one has to learn. However, concerning my specific situation and place in my studies, I am content with my choices.

So....I'm taking Oral Expression, Social Economics of France, French Art History, French Literature of the 20th century, and finally my general language class. That's my final decision and there will definatley be work but I don't care. I'll do it all happily if it means I'll be learning more and more about French. Being among the French has really encouraged me to want to work my butt off to become fluent. One day....

Well, in the meantime, this Sunday is Valentine's Day or here as they call it, Le jour de la Saint-Valentin. I have absolutely NO IDEA what I'll be doing. Probably homework. The day before on Saturday I've been given the invitation by Monsieur Peaud to join the whole family for a visit to his brother's. I wasn't sure at the time but perhaps I think I should take advantage of the opportunity. Last Saturday when I was with them, I was so tired because of the intense French-only communication, but as I've told the Peaud's, it is a satisfied kind of tired. I just wonder how they are going to fit me and the three other Peaud kids in one of those compacts! That reminds me that the oldest, Jean-Bapitist, came back to France from Morocco where he was in the middle of a project for his engineering studies. He comes home tomorrow as well as Mathile, the middle child and only daughter. I could also visit another out-of-the-way chateau perhaps as well on Sunday. I don't know. I'll see what gets assigned today in Literature and tomorrow's classes as well.


I've been making you all read a lot and I know this. For your patience with me, I present to you the grounds of my university for the semester!

Below here is the University Palace. Basically it is the main and central building. It is home to various classes, the Humanities Library, and a tiny cafeteria. As a side note, this photo was taken during a rare sunny moment. The weather is so somber here in the winter! Illinois is downright sunny in comparison.


Close-up of the door there.

They are also in the middle of rennovating much of the campus so the entrance inside the University Palace is a little less than joli, but you get the idea.

And here is my home away from home specifically on campus. Of course, it is the library.


So bizarre to see one's mother tongue in the foreign language section.



Here is the building I take almost all of my classes and where most language classes in general take place.





Well, I guess that is it for now! Time for class!