Two more posts up. Please bear with me, since they're fairly long. But it all builds up and then spills out when I make it to the McDonald's.
There are also more pictures on Picasa of: Chateau de Versailles and Vaux-le-Vicomte. Enjoy!
Mal
Wednesday, September 23, 2009
Thoughts on France...
Settling in has just about finished. I think for the most part, our group has gotten over the hump of “oh-my-gosh-why-did-I-think-this-was-a-good-idea-I-can’t-even-speak-French-and-I’m-an-absolute-moron.” It sure takes a while though. Now that we’re settled in, we all pretty much love France and would prefer to never leave. Or at least import a few boulangeries to the U.S. when we come back.
A few things that still stump me:
-The lack of colors in wardrobe. Everything is brown, black, tan, white, gray, or navy, with a couple of wine or light blue shirts thrown in. Having on anything else stands way out. The thing that confuses me is, they sell colors. Every mannequin has on a fairly bright outfit. They just don’t buy colors. I don’t understand why yet.
-I’ve yet to see a girl with a bad hair day. Which is made even more irritating by the fact that I’ve had a continuous bad hair day since I got here. I think they may legitimately be immune to frizz. Whereas I have frizzy hair from heat-styling (when I haven’t even been blow-drying my hair or straightening it) and then I see these girls with artlessly done hair that just looks perfect anyway. I need to figure out how they do this.
-The weather. It can be absolutely infuriating. The forecast will be something like: sunny with a high of 75. What they forget to mention is that the high only occurs for about 10 minutes the whole day. The rest of the day will be chilly, windy, and foggy. I might be exaggerating a little, but not by much. It’s necessary to layer, even now when it’s still warm. Plus, the leaves have already somewhat started to fall, and it’s not nearly as beautiful as at Furman. It’s kind of dull looking, actually.
-They adore Abercrombie and Fitch. This is hilarious to me. Here, wearing A&F means that you are in the cool crowd. Our group hasn’t figured out a polite way to mention that A&F stopped being cool after middle school. But it sure is fun to watch some kid with the logo go swaggering by like he’s all that.
-They also love Keds. You know, the shoes that Americans don’t tend to wear after about the 5th grade. And Converses, but everyone wears those in the U.S. too. Literally everyone here has a pair of one of those. It’s insane.
-Really, what it comes down to is: France is insanely fashionable. And chic. I’ve seen a chic four-year-old (obviously dressed by her chic mom). I’ve seen a 12-year-old with better fashion sense than some grown women. But they have this weird obsession with things that Americans (much less fashionable) gave up years ago. It’s bizarre. And brings me to:
-Scooters. There are so many of these. I’m convinced that every other kid in France has one. Remember how every kid in America wanted one, got one, played with it for 10 minutes and now they’ve been gone for a couple of years? Still going strong in France. How odd.
On the other side, things I actually do miss, having been gone for three weeks:
-Family and friends. Obviously.
-Milk. It’s not pasteurized. Gross.
-Ice cubes. They only come in restaurants if you ask. And even then you only get two or three cubes unless you specifically ask for a lot. Definitely never at home.
-Diet Coke (and regular Coke). They have Coca Light here but it doesn’t taste the same. And Coke is pretty close (much more so than Diet Coke) but it’s still a little off.
-English. I know the whole point of being here is to learn better French, and we’re definitely doing that. But sometimes it would be really nice to be able to have a conversation with anyone I meet, not just the 8 people here with me.
-Weather that actually adheres to a weather forecast, or is at least somewhat consistent.
-My cat.
-Having more than 5 shirts to choose from in my wardrobe. Or not feeling like I’m always wearing the same thing but in different colors.
-Football. It’s easy to forget it’s going on when you’re being herded through yet another chateau early on a Saturday morning, but I do miss it. Boo.
-Having a dryer. Washing clothes here requires a bit of planning ahead. Otherwise I might find myself without any dry pants to wear to class. This has not yet happened, but I wouldn’t be surprised if it does at some point.
-Sleeping in a bed bigger than a twin.
I’m missing less than I thought I would. It’s all more of an adjustment than an actual loss or missing of something. It’s hard to be upset over the loss of Chick-fil-a when I have a great boulangerie at the end of my block. I’m even starting to make friends with the people who work there. Which is good, considering they’re going to see me every day for the next three months. :)
I need to go, since we have a visit to the Louvre today, and I need to catch the train. But rest assured, France is great. And I miss y'all. And the word y'all.
A few things that still stump me:
-The lack of colors in wardrobe. Everything is brown, black, tan, white, gray, or navy, with a couple of wine or light blue shirts thrown in. Having on anything else stands way out. The thing that confuses me is, they sell colors. Every mannequin has on a fairly bright outfit. They just don’t buy colors. I don’t understand why yet.
-I’ve yet to see a girl with a bad hair day. Which is made even more irritating by the fact that I’ve had a continuous bad hair day since I got here. I think they may legitimately be immune to frizz. Whereas I have frizzy hair from heat-styling (when I haven’t even been blow-drying my hair or straightening it) and then I see these girls with artlessly done hair that just looks perfect anyway. I need to figure out how they do this.
-The weather. It can be absolutely infuriating. The forecast will be something like: sunny with a high of 75. What they forget to mention is that the high only occurs for about 10 minutes the whole day. The rest of the day will be chilly, windy, and foggy. I might be exaggerating a little, but not by much. It’s necessary to layer, even now when it’s still warm. Plus, the leaves have already somewhat started to fall, and it’s not nearly as beautiful as at Furman. It’s kind of dull looking, actually.
-They adore Abercrombie and Fitch. This is hilarious to me. Here, wearing A&F means that you are in the cool crowd. Our group hasn’t figured out a polite way to mention that A&F stopped being cool after middle school. But it sure is fun to watch some kid with the logo go swaggering by like he’s all that.
-They also love Keds. You know, the shoes that Americans don’t tend to wear after about the 5th grade. And Converses, but everyone wears those in the U.S. too. Literally everyone here has a pair of one of those. It’s insane.
-Really, what it comes down to is: France is insanely fashionable. And chic. I’ve seen a chic four-year-old (obviously dressed by her chic mom). I’ve seen a 12-year-old with better fashion sense than some grown women. But they have this weird obsession with things that Americans (much less fashionable) gave up years ago. It’s bizarre. And brings me to:
-Scooters. There are so many of these. I’m convinced that every other kid in France has one. Remember how every kid in America wanted one, got one, played with it for 10 minutes and now they’ve been gone for a couple of years? Still going strong in France. How odd.
On the other side, things I actually do miss, having been gone for three weeks:
-Family and friends. Obviously.
-Milk. It’s not pasteurized. Gross.
-Ice cubes. They only come in restaurants if you ask. And even then you only get two or three cubes unless you specifically ask for a lot. Definitely never at home.
-Diet Coke (and regular Coke). They have Coca Light here but it doesn’t taste the same. And Coke is pretty close (much more so than Diet Coke) but it’s still a little off.
-English. I know the whole point of being here is to learn better French, and we’re definitely doing that. But sometimes it would be really nice to be able to have a conversation with anyone I meet, not just the 8 people here with me.
-Weather that actually adheres to a weather forecast, or is at least somewhat consistent.
-My cat.
-Having more than 5 shirts to choose from in my wardrobe. Or not feeling like I’m always wearing the same thing but in different colors.
-Football. It’s easy to forget it’s going on when you’re being herded through yet another chateau early on a Saturday morning, but I do miss it. Boo.
-Having a dryer. Washing clothes here requires a bit of planning ahead. Otherwise I might find myself without any dry pants to wear to class. This has not yet happened, but I wouldn’t be surprised if it does at some point.
-Sleeping in a bed bigger than a twin.
I’m missing less than I thought I would. It’s all more of an adjustment than an actual loss or missing of something. It’s hard to be upset over the loss of Chick-fil-a when I have a great boulangerie at the end of my block. I’m even starting to make friends with the people who work there. Which is good, considering they’re going to see me every day for the next three months. :)
I need to go, since we have a visit to the Louvre today, and I need to catch the train. But rest assured, France is great. And I miss y'all. And the word y'all.
Heads up...this is a long one.
Well, it’s certainly been a while. We’ve been keeping pretty busy settling in. Two weekends ago, we went to Giverny and Chateau d’Anet on Saturday, and then stayed in Versailles Sunday for the Grandes Eaux. This past weekend we went to two chateaux, Fontainebleau and Vaux-le-Vicomte. Sunday was a day of rest, literally, so I got to spend some time with my family and see an old friend from Furman who came to eat lunch with us. In between all of this has been classes, a visit to the chateau of Versailles, and trying to get to McDonald’s (the classy one, never fear) to use their wireless while conveniently not buying anything.
To back it up a bit…
Giverny – is obviously gorgeous, as you can see if you go to the Picasa page and check out the pictures. It’s Monet’s home, so you can probably see where he got his inspiration from. The entire place is drenched in flowers, and so it’s really pleasing both to the eyes and the nose. Lots of bees, though. So it’s not recommended for those with severe allergies/bee fears. We got to see his garden and pond with the bridge and water-lilies, even though they weren’t blooming when we came through. Monet intended to model his garden after the Japanese styles, but made one notable difference. In Japan, everything that isn’t nature is red, but at Giverny, the bridge is green. We spent the day exploring the house and gardens, and then headed to a wonderful restaurant nearby where we spent a good two hours thoroughly enjoying ourselves.
Chateau d’Anet – a small little chateau (bah –they’re all still humongous on a house scale) where Henri II hid Diane de Poitiers, his mistress. It was actually bought by a family when the country of France put it up for sale, so we also got to see someone’s rather impressive liquor stash in the enormous living room with 300-year-old furniture. But hey, why waste a perfectly good living room, even if a king did hang out there, right? The town itself is big enough to merit public restrooms and actual toilets, but small enough to not merit toilet seats, toilet paper, or soap. That was an adventure. But no worries, I learned my lesson at 15 in France, and I had hand sanitizer on hand (hah!)
Les Grandes Eaux – Given the enormous number of fountains at Versailles (see pictures – I didn’t even scratch the surface of all the fountains there), it’s fairly expensive, time-consuming, and effortful to get the fountains running. So in the interest of efficiency, they are only turned on once a week for six months out of the year. It was really impressive to see, but sadly, we only got to see a little, since they only leave the fountains on for an hour at a time. We then spent the rest of our afternoon eating at a little café/brasserie on the side end of the gardens. It was pretty good, but what in France isn’t? I haven’t really run across bad food yet, nor do I really expect to. Unless I go to London at some point.
Wednesday of last week, we split up the monotony of classes with another Wednesday visit. This particular one took us to the Chateau of Versailles, which we had not yet visited, despite having already been here for two weeks. We grabbed our audio guides and marched off into the maze that is Versailles (and yes, I got the audio guide in French because I felt too guilty when I thought about getting it in English). Versailles is gorgeous, but the visit wears you down a bit, and the whole thing is a little overpowering. I still got a lot of pictures though.
Chateau de Fontainebleau – this is yet another one of those chateaux belonging to the royal family of France for them to play in when they get bored with running the country. I should have taken pictures, but didn’t since it was about 9 in the morning on a Saturday and after a while, chateaux start to all look the same. They have the exact same rooms anyway. Master’s bedroom, mistress’ bedroom, waiting rooms for both, council room, servants’ quarters, etc. The only difference is who lived there. But it’s still really cool. I’m just not sure what I’m going to do in October when we hit 4 chateaux in one day.
Probably drink a lot of wine.
I digress.
Chateau Vaux-le-Vicomte -- this is probably one of my favorites due to the story behind it. The guy who built it, Nicolas Fouquet, was one of the grand financiers of the state of France. Since the monarchy couldn’t run on its own, it essentially borrowed money from people like Fouquet. Well, he decides to build a nice new home called Vaux-le-Vicomte. He even thoughtfully throws in a special room for the king, because he’s such a great guy. So he throws a huge party, invites the king, who comes and proceeds to have a major temper tantrum. Basically, Fouquet’s chateau is better than Versailles was at the time. So the king (one of those Louis’ – XIV) has Fouquet arrested on absurd charges, steals his architect, lets Fouquet rot in prison for the rest of his life, and expands Versailles in the meantime. Lesson learned? Don’t invite the king to a party if your house is better than his. He gets cranky.
The chateau itself is, of course, gorgeous. The entrance is impressive, but the back view is stunning. I took about a dozen pictures just of the back because of how pretty it was. In a way, I liked it better than Versailles. Versailles is designed to be ostentatious, to show off, and to impress foreign monarchs and domestic nobles alike. It has paintings all over every ceiling, fabric covering every inch from the ceiling down, and basically so much art that you feel overwhelmed with patterns and sculptures and everything else. But Vaux-le-Vicomte is much less so. You can see where parts of it clearly influenced the construction of Versailles (since they were both built by the same architect), but VlV actually feels like it could be a home (and it was). I could easily see making it my personal vacation home. Especially with the talking statues.
That’s right. Vaux-le-Vicomte has been overtaken by Disney animators and now history is being reenacted by the same robots used in Pirates of the Caribbean (the ride, not the movie). This is funny, not only because I got to see a stuffed pet squirrel on a robot’s shoulder, but because Emily and I had had a conversation about this kind of thing just 2 hours earlier. We were sitting on a bench, talking about how the chateaux run together, and how it would be much more interesting if people dressed up and reenacted the history for us. And lo and behold, the very next chateau we visit is doing just that, with little speeches playing from the walls as the robots’ heads move woodenly back and forth. It was awesome. We really felt like we were part of history. Or a Disney ride.
Sunday, we had nothing planned for the first time since we had arrived in France. This was really nice, and it was a gorgeous day to have nothing to do. I ended up making lunch for my French family. I had brought them she-crab soup mix and cornbread as part of their hostess gift, so I made that, plus a salad with raspberry vinaigrette, a peach cobbler, and sweet tea to introduce them to the South. To make matters even better, Austin came to lunch. He’s an old Furman classmate (we had maybe one class together) who also had my family when he studied abroad a couple of years ago. Now he works in Paris and comes to have lunch with them on a regular basis. Since he’s from North Carolina, he was the true critic of my Southern lunch, and according to him, I got full marks. Surprisingly, they really liked our food. Or should I say, they liked our tea. Soup and cornbread I can understand them liking. Salad they have all the time. But tea? Well, in France they prefer for drinks like tea to be hot. And strong. Not cold and sweetened. For instance, they take their afternoon coffee (an espresso) black. It’s really strong. But they actually liked sweet tea. Definitely a surprise. They also wanted to request more cornbread. I tried to explain it was a mix, but I’m not sure I explained it very well.
After lunch, we just sat around talking for about an hour and a half. It was so pretty out that none of us really wanted to move. Later that afternoon, I ended up going to Paris with Emily and Dan just to hang out. We wanted to take advantage of everything being open, but ended up just wandering around and exploring. This weekend was the Journées de Patrimoine in Paris, which basically means they open the political buildings, chateaux, and most monuments for completely free. The only caveat is, it’s free for the rest of Paris too. It ends up being like tax-free weekend – you stay and home and take the tax just so you don’t have to wait in a four hour line to see where President Sarkozy lives. He wasn't even home, since I saw on the news last night he's in NYC for a summit of some kind.
This coming weekend is a free weekend, so no one is sure yet on plans. We won’t go far though, because a couple of students are running in a road race from the Eiffel Tower to the Chateau of Versailles on Sunday. Not me, oh no. I will be cheerfully waving from the sidelines with my brioche in hand. So stay tuned for what might be our first foray out of the country. Or at the very least, our first foray on our own. Even if it’s only to Disneyland Paris.
To back it up a bit…
Giverny – is obviously gorgeous, as you can see if you go to the Picasa page and check out the pictures. It’s Monet’s home, so you can probably see where he got his inspiration from. The entire place is drenched in flowers, and so it’s really pleasing both to the eyes and the nose. Lots of bees, though. So it’s not recommended for those with severe allergies/bee fears. We got to see his garden and pond with the bridge and water-lilies, even though they weren’t blooming when we came through. Monet intended to model his garden after the Japanese styles, but made one notable difference. In Japan, everything that isn’t nature is red, but at Giverny, the bridge is green. We spent the day exploring the house and gardens, and then headed to a wonderful restaurant nearby where we spent a good two hours thoroughly enjoying ourselves.
Chateau d’Anet – a small little chateau (bah –they’re all still humongous on a house scale) where Henri II hid Diane de Poitiers, his mistress. It was actually bought by a family when the country of France put it up for sale, so we also got to see someone’s rather impressive liquor stash in the enormous living room with 300-year-old furniture. But hey, why waste a perfectly good living room, even if a king did hang out there, right? The town itself is big enough to merit public restrooms and actual toilets, but small enough to not merit toilet seats, toilet paper, or soap. That was an adventure. But no worries, I learned my lesson at 15 in France, and I had hand sanitizer on hand (hah!)
Les Grandes Eaux – Given the enormous number of fountains at Versailles (see pictures – I didn’t even scratch the surface of all the fountains there), it’s fairly expensive, time-consuming, and effortful to get the fountains running. So in the interest of efficiency, they are only turned on once a week for six months out of the year. It was really impressive to see, but sadly, we only got to see a little, since they only leave the fountains on for an hour at a time. We then spent the rest of our afternoon eating at a little café/brasserie on the side end of the gardens. It was pretty good, but what in France isn’t? I haven’t really run across bad food yet, nor do I really expect to. Unless I go to London at some point.
Wednesday of last week, we split up the monotony of classes with another Wednesday visit. This particular one took us to the Chateau of Versailles, which we had not yet visited, despite having already been here for two weeks. We grabbed our audio guides and marched off into the maze that is Versailles (and yes, I got the audio guide in French because I felt too guilty when I thought about getting it in English). Versailles is gorgeous, but the visit wears you down a bit, and the whole thing is a little overpowering. I still got a lot of pictures though.
Chateau de Fontainebleau – this is yet another one of those chateaux belonging to the royal family of France for them to play in when they get bored with running the country. I should have taken pictures, but didn’t since it was about 9 in the morning on a Saturday and after a while, chateaux start to all look the same. They have the exact same rooms anyway. Master’s bedroom, mistress’ bedroom, waiting rooms for both, council room, servants’ quarters, etc. The only difference is who lived there. But it’s still really cool. I’m just not sure what I’m going to do in October when we hit 4 chateaux in one day.
Probably drink a lot of wine.
I digress.
Chateau Vaux-le-Vicomte -- this is probably one of my favorites due to the story behind it. The guy who built it, Nicolas Fouquet, was one of the grand financiers of the state of France. Since the monarchy couldn’t run on its own, it essentially borrowed money from people like Fouquet. Well, he decides to build a nice new home called Vaux-le-Vicomte. He even thoughtfully throws in a special room for the king, because he’s such a great guy. So he throws a huge party, invites the king, who comes and proceeds to have a major temper tantrum. Basically, Fouquet’s chateau is better than Versailles was at the time. So the king (one of those Louis’ – XIV) has Fouquet arrested on absurd charges, steals his architect, lets Fouquet rot in prison for the rest of his life, and expands Versailles in the meantime. Lesson learned? Don’t invite the king to a party if your house is better than his. He gets cranky.
The chateau itself is, of course, gorgeous. The entrance is impressive, but the back view is stunning. I took about a dozen pictures just of the back because of how pretty it was. In a way, I liked it better than Versailles. Versailles is designed to be ostentatious, to show off, and to impress foreign monarchs and domestic nobles alike. It has paintings all over every ceiling, fabric covering every inch from the ceiling down, and basically so much art that you feel overwhelmed with patterns and sculptures and everything else. But Vaux-le-Vicomte is much less so. You can see where parts of it clearly influenced the construction of Versailles (since they were both built by the same architect), but VlV actually feels like it could be a home (and it was). I could easily see making it my personal vacation home. Especially with the talking statues.
That’s right. Vaux-le-Vicomte has been overtaken by Disney animators and now history is being reenacted by the same robots used in Pirates of the Caribbean (the ride, not the movie). This is funny, not only because I got to see a stuffed pet squirrel on a robot’s shoulder, but because Emily and I had had a conversation about this kind of thing just 2 hours earlier. We were sitting on a bench, talking about how the chateaux run together, and how it would be much more interesting if people dressed up and reenacted the history for us. And lo and behold, the very next chateau we visit is doing just that, with little speeches playing from the walls as the robots’ heads move woodenly back and forth. It was awesome. We really felt like we were part of history. Or a Disney ride.
Sunday, we had nothing planned for the first time since we had arrived in France. This was really nice, and it was a gorgeous day to have nothing to do. I ended up making lunch for my French family. I had brought them she-crab soup mix and cornbread as part of their hostess gift, so I made that, plus a salad with raspberry vinaigrette, a peach cobbler, and sweet tea to introduce them to the South. To make matters even better, Austin came to lunch. He’s an old Furman classmate (we had maybe one class together) who also had my family when he studied abroad a couple of years ago. Now he works in Paris and comes to have lunch with them on a regular basis. Since he’s from North Carolina, he was the true critic of my Southern lunch, and according to him, I got full marks. Surprisingly, they really liked our food. Or should I say, they liked our tea. Soup and cornbread I can understand them liking. Salad they have all the time. But tea? Well, in France they prefer for drinks like tea to be hot. And strong. Not cold and sweetened. For instance, they take their afternoon coffee (an espresso) black. It’s really strong. But they actually liked sweet tea. Definitely a surprise. They also wanted to request more cornbread. I tried to explain it was a mix, but I’m not sure I explained it very well.
After lunch, we just sat around talking for about an hour and a half. It was so pretty out that none of us really wanted to move. Later that afternoon, I ended up going to Paris with Emily and Dan just to hang out. We wanted to take advantage of everything being open, but ended up just wandering around and exploring. This weekend was the Journées de Patrimoine in Paris, which basically means they open the political buildings, chateaux, and most monuments for completely free. The only caveat is, it’s free for the rest of Paris too. It ends up being like tax-free weekend – you stay and home and take the tax just so you don’t have to wait in a four hour line to see where President Sarkozy lives. He wasn't even home, since I saw on the news last night he's in NYC for a summit of some kind.
This coming weekend is a free weekend, so no one is sure yet on plans. We won’t go far though, because a couple of students are running in a road race from the Eiffel Tower to the Chateau of Versailles on Sunday. Not me, oh no. I will be cheerfully waving from the sidelines with my brioche in hand. So stay tuned for what might be our first foray out of the country. Or at the very least, our first foray on our own. Even if it’s only to Disneyland Paris.
Tuesday, September 15, 2009
For exceptional beauty that will bring tears to your eyes...
Go to this website...
http://picasaweb.google.com/mallorycporter
It has the pictures I've taken so far since being in France. Check it out. I put a lot of work into it (i.e. I hit the sync button on Picasa and checked the news while it did the work for me).
Enjoy!
Love,
Mal
http://picasaweb.google.com/mallorycporter
It has the pictures I've taken so far since being in France. Check it out. I put a lot of work into it (i.e. I hit the sync button on Picasa and checked the news while it did the work for me).
Enjoy!
Love,
Mal
Monday, September 14, 2009
Quick update...
So as you can probably see below this post, I've updated on Paris. We're not up to date yet, but this should tide over my pushy readers (Mom and Meredith) until I can get back to this frigid McDonald's to freeze and type a little more.
Should you desire pictures, I'm in the process of updating pictures to a picasa web album, since facebook is pesky and not everyone would see them there. I will give an address soon.
Until tomorrow (ish),
Mal
Should you desire pictures, I'm in the process of updating pictures to a picasa web album, since facebook is pesky and not everyone would see them there. I will give an address soon.
Until tomorrow (ish),
Mal
Living chez de la Monnerraye...
Today my key wouldn’t work. It literally nearly sent me over the edge. I couldn’t even open the gate to my house. I ended up having to leave my key in the gate, climb over said gate, take the rest of my keys in, and wait for the little brother to get home so he could fix it. An hour and a half later. Grrrr…
I did have the good fortune to get the use of a shower. Sometimes I think my mom can read my mind. I get home from Paris, ask for a phone charger (as the phone I was using had died without one) and after that, she showed me how to wash my clothes and offered to let me use the shower in the older sister and brother’s room, all without asking. She even offered later to have my friends eat lunch at the house, which is incredibly welcoming by French standards. Incredibly. So now we have a place to eat once we pick up our sandwiches.
Also, my house is really wonderfully located. I am a 10 minute walk from grammar, a five minute walk from the school (drama and civilization) and a five minute walk from conversation. In addition, I have a great restaurant at the end of my block, a wonderful boulangerie right next to it, and a central bus stop in the center of the circle at the end of said block. I have one of the smallest commutes of anyone in the group, plus a wonderful family.
My entire family is great, in case I didn’t say that already. My mom has been so welcoming, and offered me all these things without me even having to ask in most cases. My 17-year-old sister (Agathe) is great, even though she talks really fast, and is always willing to help me understand stuff. The youngest kid (Paul) is adorable. He’s 11, and is actually just learning English in school. Right now I can hear Anne reciting the days of the week with him, his latest assignment. The one before this was to learn the English alphabet, which was a really funny experience. He sits down at dinner with me and Agathe Monday night and starts reciting. We correct where necessary, and before long, he’s at “ S…T…U…V…”and then for “W,” goes “2-U!” He’s half right, at least! I even had the chance to meet the older brother (Yann) who’s away at school in Paris. I come walking in from the train to Paris, struggling with all of my stuff, and I notice a bunch of baggage strewn in the hallway. While I fight to get my key out of the door (I hate that door, and the gate too), he stands up and introduces himself. He seems nice, but I only saw him for about a minute before he left for school. And sadly, I don’t get to meet the eldest daughter (Amelie), since she is working in San Francisco this year, and left the same day I did. But in any case, I love my family, and am really glad I got them. Judging from what others have continued to say about their families, I have the nicest, most welcoming, most helpful, least intimidating family in Versailles. Plus I have a TV. Hah. Not that I understand any of it yet. Except for the weather reports.
I did have the good fortune to get the use of a shower. Sometimes I think my mom can read my mind. I get home from Paris, ask for a phone charger (as the phone I was using had died without one) and after that, she showed me how to wash my clothes and offered to let me use the shower in the older sister and brother’s room, all without asking. She even offered later to have my friends eat lunch at the house, which is incredibly welcoming by French standards. Incredibly. So now we have a place to eat once we pick up our sandwiches.
Also, my house is really wonderfully located. I am a 10 minute walk from grammar, a five minute walk from the school (drama and civilization) and a five minute walk from conversation. In addition, I have a great restaurant at the end of my block, a wonderful boulangerie right next to it, and a central bus stop in the center of the circle at the end of said block. I have one of the smallest commutes of anyone in the group, plus a wonderful family.
My entire family is great, in case I didn’t say that already. My mom has been so welcoming, and offered me all these things without me even having to ask in most cases. My 17-year-old sister (Agathe) is great, even though she talks really fast, and is always willing to help me understand stuff. The youngest kid (Paul) is adorable. He’s 11, and is actually just learning English in school. Right now I can hear Anne reciting the days of the week with him, his latest assignment. The one before this was to learn the English alphabet, which was a really funny experience. He sits down at dinner with me and Agathe Monday night and starts reciting. We correct where necessary, and before long, he’s at “ S…T…U…V…”and then for “W,” goes “2-U!” He’s half right, at least! I even had the chance to meet the older brother (Yann) who’s away at school in Paris. I come walking in from the train to Paris, struggling with all of my stuff, and I notice a bunch of baggage strewn in the hallway. While I fight to get my key out of the door (I hate that door, and the gate too), he stands up and introduces himself. He seems nice, but I only saw him for about a minute before he left for school. And sadly, I don’t get to meet the eldest daughter (Amelie), since she is working in San Francisco this year, and left the same day I did. But in any case, I love my family, and am really glad I got them. Judging from what others have continued to say about their families, I have the nicest, most welcoming, most helpful, least intimidating family in Versailles. Plus I have a TV. Hah. Not that I understand any of it yet. Except for the weather reports.
Adjustment to French life...
Adjustment is still taking some time. Every time I think I’m just about settled in, I get smacked by one more thing that makes me feel completely out of place. The good things are easy to adjust to. The hard things take a little more out of all of us.
I miss hugs. No one gives them here. They kiss. But our group is not French and doesn’t really kiss either, so there’s no human contact at all. I have to make do with affection from the dog, Shipy (which I found out means “bêtises,” or stupid things/someone who does stupid things). He’s very affectionate.
I really miss milk. My family has plenty of it, but it’s disgusting since it’s not pasteurized and I’m definitely not used to that. I’m not sure what I’m going to do for the next three months without it. So if anyone wants to ship me some, that would be super.
The French go to bed really early. Like 10 o’clock, every night. We were told not to make or receive phone calls after 9:30 at night. We assumed that it was simply because it’s rude to call late. Nope. It’s because they’re already in bed.
They also don’t have excess space. I think they’d be really confused by U.S. consumption, like “why do you need that when this much works just fine?” Everything is just big enough and no more. It’s great when this means no leftovers because Anne made just enough. It’s a little bit of a problem when it comes to showering and I can barely turn around, much less shave my legs.
The French are never in a hurry. Unless they are in a car, which is when they try to kill you (especially in Paris). The service here is incredibly annoying in a sense. While it’s nice that the waiters don’t hover, it’s nearly impossible to get their attention or have them bring you something else without asking for it explicitly. So paying the bill can easily take 20 or 30 minutes. Even a water refill is difficult. I get where they’re coming from — if you don’t drink it, they’ll just have to chunk it, so what’s the point unless you actually need/want it? – but I’m so used to the American standard of “never let the glass get more than half empty.”
Nothing is ever to-go, especially after 7. I know this is a bad American habit, but it is really helpful sometimes. When we were in Paris, some nights we were really tired and just wanted something like pizza or Chinese, but the French don’t believe in take-out. So we had to sit through 2-hour dinners every night if we wanted to eat. The French do plenty of sandwiches and the like for lunch, so you can do that if you want, but every single one of these places closes no later than 7. The French don’t start eating dinner until about 8. So if you want to have any chance of finding something simple and ready to go, you have to plan way ahead. Which is difficult when you don’t know you’re going to need to do so.
Doing without a dryer is a pest. My clothes aren’t soft anymore, that’s the main thing. I’m going to go buy a bottle of fabric softener tomorrow and maybe that will help the process along.
The French are also very frank. Mme Vedel has no trouble correcting us bluntly in class, nor does Mme Chauchat (the American-turned-française). Especially today, when Mme Chauchar lectured us, there was a definite sense of unease. In America, the host probably wouldn’t have spoken of it at all, or at least mentioned it quietly and very much “oh don’t worry about it, just be careful for next time.” None of that here. It was simply “I have other things to do. Make sure to not come more than 5 minutes ahead.” Eesh. This frankness is killing me.
Standing out is also annoying. No matter what we do, we all look distinctly German-Irish, much like most Americans. We don’t blend, even when we dress just like them. Mainly because we’re all huge compared to them. My sister here is 17, but she’s approximately the size of a 12-year old boy. Literally. They’re all like that. Tall, model-thin, gorgeous. It’s hard not to feel completely inadequate every time I walk out of the house. Or in the house, as the case may be.
I miss hugs. No one gives them here. They kiss. But our group is not French and doesn’t really kiss either, so there’s no human contact at all. I have to make do with affection from the dog, Shipy (which I found out means “bêtises,” or stupid things/someone who does stupid things). He’s very affectionate.
I really miss milk. My family has plenty of it, but it’s disgusting since it’s not pasteurized and I’m definitely not used to that. I’m not sure what I’m going to do for the next three months without it. So if anyone wants to ship me some, that would be super.
The French go to bed really early. Like 10 o’clock, every night. We were told not to make or receive phone calls after 9:30 at night. We assumed that it was simply because it’s rude to call late. Nope. It’s because they’re already in bed.
They also don’t have excess space. I think they’d be really confused by U.S. consumption, like “why do you need that when this much works just fine?” Everything is just big enough and no more. It’s great when this means no leftovers because Anne made just enough. It’s a little bit of a problem when it comes to showering and I can barely turn around, much less shave my legs.
The French are never in a hurry. Unless they are in a car, which is when they try to kill you (especially in Paris). The service here is incredibly annoying in a sense. While it’s nice that the waiters don’t hover, it’s nearly impossible to get their attention or have them bring you something else without asking for it explicitly. So paying the bill can easily take 20 or 30 minutes. Even a water refill is difficult. I get where they’re coming from — if you don’t drink it, they’ll just have to chunk it, so what’s the point unless you actually need/want it? – but I’m so used to the American standard of “never let the glass get more than half empty.”
Nothing is ever to-go, especially after 7. I know this is a bad American habit, but it is really helpful sometimes. When we were in Paris, some nights we were really tired and just wanted something like pizza or Chinese, but the French don’t believe in take-out. So we had to sit through 2-hour dinners every night if we wanted to eat. The French do plenty of sandwiches and the like for lunch, so you can do that if you want, but every single one of these places closes no later than 7. The French don’t start eating dinner until about 8. So if you want to have any chance of finding something simple and ready to go, you have to plan way ahead. Which is difficult when you don’t know you’re going to need to do so.
Doing without a dryer is a pest. My clothes aren’t soft anymore, that’s the main thing. I’m going to go buy a bottle of fabric softener tomorrow and maybe that will help the process along.
The French are also very frank. Mme Vedel has no trouble correcting us bluntly in class, nor does Mme Chauchat (the American-turned-française). Especially today, when Mme Chauchar lectured us, there was a definite sense of unease. In America, the host probably wouldn’t have spoken of it at all, or at least mentioned it quietly and very much “oh don’t worry about it, just be careful for next time.” None of that here. It was simply “I have other things to do. Make sure to not come more than 5 minutes ahead.” Eesh. This frankness is killing me.
Standing out is also annoying. No matter what we do, we all look distinctly German-Irish, much like most Americans. We don’t blend, even when we dress just like them. Mainly because we’re all huge compared to them. My sister here is 17, but she’s approximately the size of a 12-year old boy. Literally. They’re all like that. Tall, model-thin, gorgeous. It’s hard not to feel completely inadequate every time I walk out of the house. Or in the house, as the case may be.
Classes in Versailles
Classes here in France don’t seem to be so bad at first. A couple even seem like their American counterparts. My civilization class is taught by Monsieur Sinniger, an adorable old French man who walks with a cane and seems to chuckle at everything. His wife, Martine, teaches our drama class (20th century French drama) and is this cute little woman who wants to make sure we understand every single word that comes out of her mouth. I think she already likes me, since our first class covered the 17th century writers, and I was the only one who had taken French 32 already, so I knew most of what she was talking about. Grammar and conversation will be more difficult.
Madame Vedel takes grammar for our group, and she’s a good teacher, but very frank (typically French). I like her so far, though. I think the first class was just the hardest one -- once we kind of got the hang of it, things went much easier. Conversation for our group goes to Madame Chauchat, who is actually originally from New York and is still an American citizen. She moved here 18(ish) years ago when she married her husband and teaches English at the middle/high school. Conversation will be difficult simply because it’s speaking French for two hours straight, about anything at all. Today’s class was a little painful, but it's also the first class. Eesh. On top of that, we accidently miscalculated how long it would take to get back to Mme Chauchat’s house from Dr. Maiden’s hotel where we had lunch, and we got there 15 minutes early. She was a little peeved with us and gave us a little lecture about how to not come so early. It was kind of scary. But she seems really great-- she's already offered to give us French cooking lessons!
More to come as classes unfold (because I know you are all so interested).
Madame Vedel takes grammar for our group, and she’s a good teacher, but very frank (typically French). I like her so far, though. I think the first class was just the hardest one -- once we kind of got the hang of it, things went much easier. Conversation for our group goes to Madame Chauchat, who is actually originally from New York and is still an American citizen. She moved here 18(ish) years ago when she married her husband and teaches English at the middle/high school. Conversation will be difficult simply because it’s speaking French for two hours straight, about anything at all. Today’s class was a little painful, but it's also the first class. Eesh. On top of that, we accidently miscalculated how long it would take to get back to Mme Chauchat’s house from Dr. Maiden’s hotel where we had lunch, and we got there 15 minutes early. She was a little peeved with us and gave us a little lecture about how to not come so early. It was kind of scary. But she seems really great-- she's already offered to give us French cooking lessons!
More to come as classes unfold (because I know you are all so interested).
Paris, part 2...
Saturday in Paris, we started to hit some of the more touristy things. We started off the morning by heading to Notre Dame, but sadly, we didn’t get to go in. We then meandered off to Sainte-Chapelle, which has incredible stained glass windows (called vitraux in France). It’s actually not a cathedral or church, but a reliquary. Apparently, a while back, a French king named Louis thought he had the actual crown of thorns that Christ worn on the cross, so he built Sainte Chapelle to house them. The result is really amazing – over 1500 windows that tell the story of creation through the resurrection in minute detail. We couldn’t actually see all of it, since they’re in the middle of renovations (that continue until 2013). Being as old as they are, the windows have acquired quite a bit of dirt, but since they’re so old, it requires fancy cleaning instead of Windex. So they’re going window by window (13 giant panes in all) and using infrared light to see and remove the dirt. It’s really cool, because they’ve already cleaned a couple, so you can see the huge difference the cleaning has made.
After Sainte-Chapelle, we discovered the (not-so-much) wonder of French public bathrooms. This particular one was beside Notre Dame, and besides being disgusting, the cleaning lady yelled at me because I simply let her know that the stall I had been in was out of toilet paper. It’s probably a good thing that she couldn’t see where I’d managed to break the soap dispenser, right?
After being yelled at for being courteous, we headed over to a really touristy alley with lots of Greek sandwiches and creperies. Crepes are amazing here, especially when they fill them with Nutella. Mmm…I also saw the world’s biggest jar of Nutella. I wanted to steal it, but that would be wrong. And I would have had to carry it all over Paris for the rest of the day, and my bag was already heavy enough. We did, however, feed Ratatouille…or so we’d like to think, seeing as how there were mice under the floorboards of the creperie. Ick.
The afternoon was dedicated to the bateaux mouches (literally, the boat flies). They take you up and down the Seine so you can see the main sights of Paris. They’re super touristy, but it was fun nonetheless, even if it was freezing cold from the wind. When we were done, we wanted to go shopping at the Galleries Lafayette, but managed to go completely the wrong way and take the longest route humanly possible. The shopping was good, but really expensive and we all ended up just looking instead.
For dinner, we ended up finding this amazing restaurant just the next street over from our hotel. All of us were too tired to go more than a street or two over, but this was a real find. It was a basic French restaurant, kind of expensive (but Furman—aka our tuition—picked up the bill), and was really good. I had onion soup, lamp chops and stole some half-baked chocolate cake with caramel sauce from Charlotte. Yum.
Sunday, we had a really full day. We started at the Hotel de Ville, then headed to the Place des Vosges, all for architecture lessons. We ended up having lunch at a quintessentially French café, with an adorable (typical) French man as our waiter. I decided to go typical French and had a croque monsieur and a crème brulée for dessert. The sandwich was okay, but the crème brulée was wonderful. It’s funny -- I keep hitting home runs with food and don’t even mean to. Although it’s not particularly tough to do in France.
After lunch, we realized that we were about 100 feet from Victor Hugo’s house, so naturally we went to see it. We then trekked to the Sorbonne and lastly to the Louvre, all for more architecture. We all headed back to the hotel and about died, but rallied just enough to go to dinner at a Chinese restaurant. Talk about feeling inadequate. The entire staff spoke Chinese (obviously), French for Parisians, and English for tourists. And I’ve been so proud of speaking just French. I managed another home run with my sautéed chicken and grilled walnuts (the walnuts literally tasted like candy). Afterward, we all really wanted some crepes, but since this is France, nothing was open late, and we got lost anyways.
The next morning, we somehow managed to drag ourselves out of bed, went to get breakfast (hotel breakfast is so good here – croissant, brioche, and baguette), and took the train back to Versailles. Such was our visit to Paris.
After Sainte-Chapelle, we discovered the (not-so-much) wonder of French public bathrooms. This particular one was beside Notre Dame, and besides being disgusting, the cleaning lady yelled at me because I simply let her know that the stall I had been in was out of toilet paper. It’s probably a good thing that she couldn’t see where I’d managed to break the soap dispenser, right?
After being yelled at for being courteous, we headed over to a really touristy alley with lots of Greek sandwiches and creperies. Crepes are amazing here, especially when they fill them with Nutella. Mmm…I also saw the world’s biggest jar of Nutella. I wanted to steal it, but that would be wrong. And I would have had to carry it all over Paris for the rest of the day, and my bag was already heavy enough. We did, however, feed Ratatouille…or so we’d like to think, seeing as how there were mice under the floorboards of the creperie. Ick.
The afternoon was dedicated to the bateaux mouches (literally, the boat flies). They take you up and down the Seine so you can see the main sights of Paris. They’re super touristy, but it was fun nonetheless, even if it was freezing cold from the wind. When we were done, we wanted to go shopping at the Galleries Lafayette, but managed to go completely the wrong way and take the longest route humanly possible. The shopping was good, but really expensive and we all ended up just looking instead.
For dinner, we ended up finding this amazing restaurant just the next street over from our hotel. All of us were too tired to go more than a street or two over, but this was a real find. It was a basic French restaurant, kind of expensive (but Furman—aka our tuition—picked up the bill), and was really good. I had onion soup, lamp chops and stole some half-baked chocolate cake with caramel sauce from Charlotte. Yum.
Sunday, we had a really full day. We started at the Hotel de Ville, then headed to the Place des Vosges, all for architecture lessons. We ended up having lunch at a quintessentially French café, with an adorable (typical) French man as our waiter. I decided to go typical French and had a croque monsieur and a crème brulée for dessert. The sandwich was okay, but the crème brulée was wonderful. It’s funny -- I keep hitting home runs with food and don’t even mean to. Although it’s not particularly tough to do in France.
After lunch, we realized that we were about 100 feet from Victor Hugo’s house, so naturally we went to see it. We then trekked to the Sorbonne and lastly to the Louvre, all for more architecture. We all headed back to the hotel and about died, but rallied just enough to go to dinner at a Chinese restaurant. Talk about feeling inadequate. The entire staff spoke Chinese (obviously), French for Parisians, and English for tourists. And I’ve been so proud of speaking just French. I managed another home run with my sautéed chicken and grilled walnuts (the walnuts literally tasted like candy). Afterward, we all really wanted some crepes, but since this is France, nothing was open late, and we got lost anyways.
The next morning, we somehow managed to drag ourselves out of bed, went to get breakfast (hotel breakfast is so good here – croissant, brioche, and baguette), and took the train back to Versailles. Such was our visit to Paris.
Paris, part 1...
So after about 10 hours of sleep that was in no way enough, I got up and ate breakfast with the family, baguette with butter and honey. Soooo good. France really knows how to do bread. I then found myself facing one of the bigger challenges thus far: how to bathe.
In France, bathtubs/showers and toilets are in separate rooms, which is enough of an oddity to me. But they also rarely have dual showers/bathtubs like we do in the U.S. The only shower in the house is in the little annex for the older son and daughter. If I want to use it, I have to walk though the backyard to get there and back. Admittedly, this would be a problem come fall when the weather is cold. This leaves me the bathtub option. Their bathtubs have showerheads attached, but no shower curtain. The basic concept is that you take a bath, and use the showerhead to rinse your hair after washing it. Only, without a shower curtain, it’s a little tricky to not flood the bathroom. (I actually did this the first time I came to France when I was 15. Oops.) I did manage to not make a mess, but the concept of three months of baths is a daunting one.
After I finished packing, I headed to Mme. Chauchat’s house for a placement test in grammar. From there, we headed for Paris, stopping to get our Navigo passes along the way. The Navigo pass that we have is basically a three-month, all-access card that lets us use the buses, trains, and metro in Paris and Versailles whenever we like. And it has definitely already come in handy. Plus, there’s the added psychological benefit of feeling really cool.
We get to our hotel, where Amanda, Charlotte, and I find out we are on the 5ieme etage. The French start numbering from the second floor, and the first floor is considered 0, which put us on the sixth floor of the hotel. All three of us started to freak out, because France does not often have elevators in its hotels, and the stairs definitively got steeper as we climbed (it wasn’t our imaginations, they really did). However, when we came back downstairs, we found out there is in fact an elevator, one that is just big enough to hold all three of us in one trip. Hooray!
The afternoon was spent at the Musee de Cluny, a museum devoted to Romanesque tapestries and art, and finding a good sandwich shop for lunch (not in that order). Once I had my trusty jambon-beurre (ham and butter, sooo good), I was happy enough to traipse along anywhere. Our group has already discovered that food makes just about anything easier to deal with, and at the same time, funnier than it was originally. Like Scott being harassed by an 8-year-old boy for a cigarette and refusing to take no for an answer. We had a late dinner eating at a restaurant near our hotel, with an amazing tarte aux framboises (raspberry tart), crème caramel, and chocolate mousse. And we made friends with the waiter.
This morning we got off to a late start, mainly due to our room of three (who didn’t wake up to our alarms). We visited St. Germain-de-Pres, a famous Romanesque church in the heart of Paris, and the Basilique St. Denis, a cross between Romanesque and Gothic. Cathedrals often took 100-200 years to complete in the Middle Ages, sometimes more, so most of what we’re seeing right now is a mishmash of styles. St. Denis was really cool, as it’s the location for lots of famous tombs of French kings and queens. We got to see those of Louis XIV, Louis XVI and Marie Antoinette (all in modern tombs), the Merovingian kings such as Clovis and Dagobert, and basically every king of France between the 10th and 18th centuries, ending with Louis XVIII. They also have the mummified heart of Louis XVII (the one who died in prison during the Revolution after his parents were beheaded). It looks like a dried pomegranate pit. And it’s kind of creepy. The afternoon at the Basilica was one of those times that blows your mind, like “I’m standing in front of the bones of a king who lived 1500 years ago and changed the course of French history.” Not unlike how you feel when you contemplate the Internet, but in a different way. Standing in front of those who made the history just makes it seem more real. It’s a lot to take in, and a little intimidating, since the U.S. is too young to claim that sort of thing. But very cool. It just makes my head hurt a little trying to wrap my mind around it.
The rest of the afternoon and evening was kind of lazy, since all of us still have a touch of jetlag (that, and we stayed up late last night). We did get a chance to stop by Monoprix on l’Avenue de l’Opera (the one with the opera house from The Phantom of the Opera – it’s gorgeous and I can’t wait to go there). Monoprix is a lot like Walmart or Target, with just about everything for sale, but it’s probably closest to say that it’s like a step above Target. I finally managed to get an adapter for my computer there, which is good, since I’ve been going crazy for days trying to find one. Now I have access to the world of technology again, and it feels much better. Since we’ve been settling in here, we’ve found that the little things make the transition much easier. Like an adapter for your computer, or an Orangina to get the morning started, or a chocolate mousse after dealing with French customer service in a phone store for an hour (yup, it happened).
In France, bathtubs/showers and toilets are in separate rooms, which is enough of an oddity to me. But they also rarely have dual showers/bathtubs like we do in the U.S. The only shower in the house is in the little annex for the older son and daughter. If I want to use it, I have to walk though the backyard to get there and back. Admittedly, this would be a problem come fall when the weather is cold. This leaves me the bathtub option. Their bathtubs have showerheads attached, but no shower curtain. The basic concept is that you take a bath, and use the showerhead to rinse your hair after washing it. Only, without a shower curtain, it’s a little tricky to not flood the bathroom. (I actually did this the first time I came to France when I was 15. Oops.) I did manage to not make a mess, but the concept of three months of baths is a daunting one.
After I finished packing, I headed to Mme. Chauchat’s house for a placement test in grammar. From there, we headed for Paris, stopping to get our Navigo passes along the way. The Navigo pass that we have is basically a three-month, all-access card that lets us use the buses, trains, and metro in Paris and Versailles whenever we like. And it has definitely already come in handy. Plus, there’s the added psychological benefit of feeling really cool.
We get to our hotel, where Amanda, Charlotte, and I find out we are on the 5ieme etage. The French start numbering from the second floor, and the first floor is considered 0, which put us on the sixth floor of the hotel. All three of us started to freak out, because France does not often have elevators in its hotels, and the stairs definitively got steeper as we climbed (it wasn’t our imaginations, they really did). However, when we came back downstairs, we found out there is in fact an elevator, one that is just big enough to hold all three of us in one trip. Hooray!
The afternoon was spent at the Musee de Cluny, a museum devoted to Romanesque tapestries and art, and finding a good sandwich shop for lunch (not in that order). Once I had my trusty jambon-beurre (ham and butter, sooo good), I was happy enough to traipse along anywhere. Our group has already discovered that food makes just about anything easier to deal with, and at the same time, funnier than it was originally. Like Scott being harassed by an 8-year-old boy for a cigarette and refusing to take no for an answer. We had a late dinner eating at a restaurant near our hotel, with an amazing tarte aux framboises (raspberry tart), crème caramel, and chocolate mousse. And we made friends with the waiter.
This morning we got off to a late start, mainly due to our room of three (who didn’t wake up to our alarms). We visited St. Germain-de-Pres, a famous Romanesque church in the heart of Paris, and the Basilique St. Denis, a cross between Romanesque and Gothic. Cathedrals often took 100-200 years to complete in the Middle Ages, sometimes more, so most of what we’re seeing right now is a mishmash of styles. St. Denis was really cool, as it’s the location for lots of famous tombs of French kings and queens. We got to see those of Louis XIV, Louis XVI and Marie Antoinette (all in modern tombs), the Merovingian kings such as Clovis and Dagobert, and basically every king of France between the 10th and 18th centuries, ending with Louis XVIII. They also have the mummified heart of Louis XVII (the one who died in prison during the Revolution after his parents were beheaded). It looks like a dried pomegranate pit. And it’s kind of creepy. The afternoon at the Basilica was one of those times that blows your mind, like “I’m standing in front of the bones of a king who lived 1500 years ago and changed the course of French history.” Not unlike how you feel when you contemplate the Internet, but in a different way. Standing in front of those who made the history just makes it seem more real. It’s a lot to take in, and a little intimidating, since the U.S. is too young to claim that sort of thing. But very cool. It just makes my head hurt a little trying to wrap my mind around it.
The rest of the afternoon and evening was kind of lazy, since all of us still have a touch of jetlag (that, and we stayed up late last night). We did get a chance to stop by Monoprix on l’Avenue de l’Opera (the one with the opera house from The Phantom of the Opera – it’s gorgeous and I can’t wait to go there). Monoprix is a lot like Walmart or Target, with just about everything for sale, but it’s probably closest to say that it’s like a step above Target. I finally managed to get an adapter for my computer there, which is good, since I’ve been going crazy for days trying to find one. Now I have access to the world of technology again, and it feels much better. Since we’ve been settling in here, we’ve found that the little things make the transition much easier. Like an adapter for your computer, or an Orangina to get the morning started, or a chocolate mousse after dealing with French customer service in a phone store for an hour (yup, it happened).
Friday, September 4, 2009
On est arrivé!
We have, in fact, arrived in France. But this is the first access I've had to internet/my computer. My computer didn't have an adapter until tonight, so it couldn't be charged, and the family's wireless hadn't let me on yet. So the only way to use the internet was with the special French keyboard. It takes a lot of getting used to.
We're in Paris now, but for the sake of continuity, let me back up.
I got to the airport in Greenville Tuesday after saying goodbye to people at Furman. My first brush with disaster came at check-in. My new suitcase came with a lock, which of course I used on my luggage. But come check-in that suitcase was two pounds overweight and I needed to move things around. The only problem was, I couldn't find the key. After looking three times through my purse, twice through my bookbag, and once in my other suitcase and in the car with no luck at all, I went to the TSA man to get him to break the lock. As they are searching through their keys for the correct one, I find the key to the suitcase in the one purse pocket I had not yet checked. Go figure. I try to protect my luggage from others and lock myself out instead.
All travel involved was fairly eventless. We met up with the rest of the group in Dulles and sat through the 2-hour layover -- not bad at all. To our surprise, our flight to Paris was shared by a friend -- a guy that was my conversation leader for French at Furman when I was a freshman, then went to UVA for his doctorate in French and was heading to Lyon to be a teaching assistant. Small world, right? After taking off half an hour late, we landed at Charles de Gaulle-Roissy half an hour early. So early (6:15 AM in Paris, ugh) that our coordinator hadn't even made it to the airport yet.
After meeting some of our professors (Sally, I'm already in love with Mme. Chauchat!), our families came to get us. My French mom, Anne de la Monneraye, is wonderful to me and very welcoming/motherly, especially compared to what others in the group have told me about their families. She took me home and introduced me around the house and to her family. Her daughter, Agathe, is 17 and a sweetheart, even though she does talk a LOT and very quickly. Too fast for me to keep up yet. Paul is 9 and in the sixth grade. He's absolutely adorable and has been so much fun so far. He loves to tease, and since he's the only one whose speech I can actually keep up with, we'll be good friends I think. :)
The first day with the family was low-key. Anne made lunch for all of us, and we ate outside in the backyard. I took a 20-minute nap to keep me going until bedtime (having slept 3 hours in the past 26!) to help stave off the worst of the jetlag. I unpacked and gave them their presents (pralines for all, and an afghan with the SC flag on it, plus a promise to make a Southern dinner soon -- and now I've found crab meat in Monoprix for the soup, that can happen!). They love the pralines, so I think that was a good idea. Anne then took me to Parly II (the mall) where I was able to get a new SimCard for the phone she's letting me use. Her eldest daughter is actually in San Francisco for a year, having left the same day I did, and I get her phone for while I'm here. We also got me a hairdryer with the European current, so no worries about blowing power to the hotel while I'm here. We went back to the house, had dinner, and after watching a little French TV, I crashed in bed around 10 so I could leave with the group for Paris the next day, which is where I am now.
Phew...I still need to update on Paris, but that can wait for a while since this was pretty long. and now that I have an adapter and the WiFi code for the hotel, everything seems a little easier. So, a demain!
Mallory
We're in Paris now, but for the sake of continuity, let me back up.
I got to the airport in Greenville Tuesday after saying goodbye to people at Furman. My first brush with disaster came at check-in. My new suitcase came with a lock, which of course I used on my luggage. But come check-in that suitcase was two pounds overweight and I needed to move things around. The only problem was, I couldn't find the key. After looking three times through my purse, twice through my bookbag, and once in my other suitcase and in the car with no luck at all, I went to the TSA man to get him to break the lock. As they are searching through their keys for the correct one, I find the key to the suitcase in the one purse pocket I had not yet checked. Go figure. I try to protect my luggage from others and lock myself out instead.
All travel involved was fairly eventless. We met up with the rest of the group in Dulles and sat through the 2-hour layover -- not bad at all. To our surprise, our flight to Paris was shared by a friend -- a guy that was my conversation leader for French at Furman when I was a freshman, then went to UVA for his doctorate in French and was heading to Lyon to be a teaching assistant. Small world, right? After taking off half an hour late, we landed at Charles de Gaulle-Roissy half an hour early. So early (6:15 AM in Paris, ugh) that our coordinator hadn't even made it to the airport yet.
After meeting some of our professors (Sally, I'm already in love with Mme. Chauchat!), our families came to get us. My French mom, Anne de la Monneraye, is wonderful to me and very welcoming/motherly, especially compared to what others in the group have told me about their families. She took me home and introduced me around the house and to her family. Her daughter, Agathe, is 17 and a sweetheart, even though she does talk a LOT and very quickly. Too fast for me to keep up yet. Paul is 9 and in the sixth grade. He's absolutely adorable and has been so much fun so far. He loves to tease, and since he's the only one whose speech I can actually keep up with, we'll be good friends I think. :)
The first day with the family was low-key. Anne made lunch for all of us, and we ate outside in the backyard. I took a 20-minute nap to keep me going until bedtime (having slept 3 hours in the past 26!) to help stave off the worst of the jetlag. I unpacked and gave them their presents (pralines for all, and an afghan with the SC flag on it, plus a promise to make a Southern dinner soon -- and now I've found crab meat in Monoprix for the soup, that can happen!). They love the pralines, so I think that was a good idea. Anne then took me to Parly II (the mall) where I was able to get a new SimCard for the phone she's letting me use. Her eldest daughter is actually in San Francisco for a year, having left the same day I did, and I get her phone for while I'm here. We also got me a hairdryer with the European current, so no worries about blowing power to the hotel while I'm here. We went back to the house, had dinner, and after watching a little French TV, I crashed in bed around 10 so I could leave with the group for Paris the next day, which is where I am now.
Phew...I still need to update on Paris, but that can wait for a while since this was pretty long. and now that I have an adapter and the WiFi code for the hotel, everything seems a little easier. So, a demain!
Mallory
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