I got tired of step by step what I did each day. It was really really boring to write, very tedious. So from now on I am just writing about things that I find funny, or just teh differences because it is more intresting both for me to write and you to read. By the time I go back to school next Wednesday I promise to have both the post on the riots that I have been working on (and procrastinating) and one on pancakes.
Thats all!
Love and miss you all... bisous!
Saturday, October 30, 2010
Wednesday, October 20, 2010
STRIKE... well this is more than 3
(The last blog entry was really rushed because this is the one I really wanted to write.)
I once told Anna that my teachers were on strike and she told me she had stopped caring why- they didn't need a reason, they were French!
She has a point.
In the United States, strikes are something you read about in history books. Or pass in the streets and wonder what the hell they are shouting about, because aren't they supposed to be working or something right now?
Not so in France. There is a strike about something, so far, about every other week since I have been here. At first I had no idea what the were about (they explained, I just didn't understand, had something to do with bad teachers not getting fired at one point) and right now it is because they want to raise the retirement age from 60 to 62.
In the US, when there is a strike, you drive right on past it. In France, the world comes to a screeching halt for a few days. The buses do not run, or not on the same schedule and so many people just walk and have to leave earlier in order to get anywhere on time. Malika has to pick up and drop of ALL of the kids for lunch because the cafeterias are closed. About half of the teachers are gone, which means we don't have class. Really it is kind-of fun.
But before yesterday I hadn't SEEN a strike. Experienced the effects, yes, but not seen one, and apparently, french teens really know how to throw a strike.
When workers go on strike, its called un greve. When students strike- un bloqueuse. Why? Anatomy of the word... bloq... sounds a little like block, right? Right. And that is why. Because in a strike they don't do anything, and in a bloqueuse they block the entry-way physically and insure that no-one enters. Including poor confused exchange students (unless you put on a very good helpless face :) and speak very bad french to them). So really, you can still get in its just a pain.
I really don't know how they are organized, but everyone knows about it before-hand. I think it has something to do with the marvels of facebook, but I am not sure. There were several around town last week, but the first at Lacasagne was this Monday. Actually it was scheduled for Tuesday, but like anything that involves skipping class to chat with friends and yell randomly, why wait? So at first mostly everyone just stood around asking "is there un bloqueuse today?" Finally a few people started standing in the doorway (the gate is broken, so there is just one door we all have to go through making it much easier to block). I was really rather lucky that my first class was at 8 that day, they weren't very organized yet and so it was easier to get through. I just had one class that morning, an hour of Italian, and my other class was canceled. So at 9 o'clock I stood at the door to the building with the rest of my class. The principals of the school stood at the door, watching outside. The crowd had swelled and while I am really really bad at estimating numbers, I am going to guess that there were 50 students all crowded outside in the cold. The trashcans were lined up in front of the school doors and people were on the steps, sidewalk and spilling out onto the street. One girl had a whistle and every time she blew it everyone would yell. Someone threw a small firecracker (or something of the sort) near the steps, after that the principal opened the door and what was left of my class snaked out, laughing. My only other class that day was at 2 and by that point the crowd had dissipated, some went home, some I think to Bellecour. Either way, the 5 of us that had actually come to class finished in peace.
Clips on youtube:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FG8Y0GX9pAQ
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=w-sVQcZ3sz0&feature=related
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Koz9EpzvPSA
Tuesday: the real date of the bloquese. I just happened to see Marina on my way to school and so we walked the rest of the way there together. Paul, a friend of the family just randomly came up "Salut."
I just kind of looked at him for a second. Surprise! First of all, he does not go to the same school and as far as I know, his school is no where nearby. Second of all he was in shorts (French guys also wear shorter shorts than American guys) and a tee-shirt. You have to understand that it was in the 40s, I, for one, was wearing jeans, boots, a long sleeved-shirt, a sweater, a jacket, and a very warm scarf, and was still a little cold. Stupid wind.
"Qu'est-ce que tu fais ici?"
He was a part of the bloquese, apparently people from other schools all gather at Lacassagne, and he was not wearing warm clothes in protest though I fail to see how that helped.
Everyone was on the steps. Trashcans lined up in-front. I saw Charlotte on the steps and went to talk to her.
"Are you going in?"
"No way, are you?"
"I think I have to, for my program I can't skip class"
"Don't worry about it! There probably isn't even class anyways."
I looked at her doubtfully.
"Look" she took my arm "no one will be in class, I won't, Sophie isn't even coming today... and everyone else is out here, protesting" she pointed out our classmates in the crowd, one by one. "Even if you did go in, chances are the teacher is on strike too."
Eventually, I just took her word for it. Smart, smart, Charlotte... from what I heard later no one went in that morning.
In the meantime, everything was barely controlled chaos. People were chanting with signs, yelling, and because they are french, smoking. A small fight broke out, but was over almost as quickly as it had started.
Really it was quite interesting for me and, being me, I really wanted to follow everyone to Bellecour but I can't say that would have been very safe so I heeded my better judgment and decided to go back home. At this point many of the less enthusiastic protesters were trickling out of the crowd to go back home, and many of those more dedicated to the cause were marching off to continue in Bellecour. Marina and I decided to leave by a back ally so that we didn't have to make our way back through the crowd, just as we started to walk away there were shouts and a few high-pitched squeals followed by a crunch. We spun around just in time to see a group of guys over-turn a car on the other side of the street. The driver's side window crushed glass littered on the ground as it teetered for a minute and then stood still, balanced on its right side. The boys all looked at each other, grinning with the adrenalin and laughing. Is it weird that my first thought was not "what the are they doing?" or "the poor owner of that car!" but "damn, of all the days to leave my camera at home!"
Don't worry, the other thoughts followed shortly after, but I am very upset not to have that picture.
Marina and I went way out of our way to avoid the destruction, got a little lost for a few minutes, and took a while getting home. I sat around and worked and memorizing all the irregular verbs and their conjugations in the present tense, as I have long since forgotten them and they are kinda important, if not boring. After lunch I went back to class for the afternoon, as boring as it was as there were maybe 6, 7 people in my class.
The next 2 mornings followed the same pattern. Walk to school, blocquese. Go to class. Do nothing. Go home. Laugh about the french with my Moroccan family. The administration, that had done nothing at all the first two days seemed upset by how out-of hand things had gotten on Tuesday so they started to maintain some sort of order- protesting was still allowed. There were never again as many people as Tuesday, and so we did nothing in class. Seriously, we watched the Titanic in History. We read a really good poem by Victor Hugo in French and talked about how hard it was for people like me to learn French because the language has so many exceptions and contradictions, and written is not always anything like the spoken language. In math the teacher basically did their homework for them. My economics teacher explained the basics of this issue.. why they are trying to raise the retirement age and the arguments for and against it. Basically its not going to solve the problem but they have to do something. We actually did something in Science at the end of the week- took a test. It was written and I made tons of mistakes with grammar (protein is feminin, in case you were wondering) but stil did rather well on the test. By Friday they had already voted on the issue, but as the following week was fall break and they had already skipped an entire week most people continued protesting, just so they didn't have to go to class.
Apparently after the protests were over the skin heads came into town from the countryside, looking for a fight for revenge for all the havoc. Of course that is just an excuse, and basically, we stayed inside that weekend.
Malika rolled her eyes at me once. "The French are always protesting. Always unhappy about something." I laughed and agreed. Its kind-of a pain sometimes. Tons of damage that the state now has to waste more money on in fixing. None of the normal services are offered- bus schedules are messed up and school cafeterias close. They over-react, and I don't agree with what they are fighting for. 2 extra years of work? They have it really good already, they don't need to complain.
And yet, where is that line where they should complain? This aspect of their culture is part of why they have all that they do today. They don't accept anything less, they have high standards and expectations. They are not going to let anyone walk over them. If they did, they wouldn't really be French.
I once told Anna that my teachers were on strike and she told me she had stopped caring why- they didn't need a reason, they were French!
She has a point.
In the United States, strikes are something you read about in history books. Or pass in the streets and wonder what the hell they are shouting about, because aren't they supposed to be working or something right now?
Not so in France. There is a strike about something, so far, about every other week since I have been here. At first I had no idea what the were about (they explained, I just didn't understand, had something to do with bad teachers not getting fired at one point) and right now it is because they want to raise the retirement age from 60 to 62.
In the US, when there is a strike, you drive right on past it. In France, the world comes to a screeching halt for a few days. The buses do not run, or not on the same schedule and so many people just walk and have to leave earlier in order to get anywhere on time. Malika has to pick up and drop of ALL of the kids for lunch because the cafeterias are closed. About half of the teachers are gone, which means we don't have class. Really it is kind-of fun.
But before yesterday I hadn't SEEN a strike. Experienced the effects, yes, but not seen one, and apparently, french teens really know how to throw a strike.
When workers go on strike, its called un greve. When students strike- un bloqueuse. Why? Anatomy of the word... bloq... sounds a little like block, right? Right. And that is why. Because in a strike they don't do anything, and in a bloqueuse they block the entry-way physically and insure that no-one enters. Including poor confused exchange students (unless you put on a very good helpless face :) and speak very bad french to them). So really, you can still get in its just a pain.
I really don't know how they are organized, but everyone knows about it before-hand. I think it has something to do with the marvels of facebook, but I am not sure. There were several around town last week, but the first at Lacasagne was this Monday. Actually it was scheduled for Tuesday, but like anything that involves skipping class to chat with friends and yell randomly, why wait? So at first mostly everyone just stood around asking "is there un bloqueuse today?" Finally a few people started standing in the doorway (the gate is broken, so there is just one door we all have to go through making it much easier to block). I was really rather lucky that my first class was at 8 that day, they weren't very organized yet and so it was easier to get through. I just had one class that morning, an hour of Italian, and my other class was canceled. So at 9 o'clock I stood at the door to the building with the rest of my class. The principals of the school stood at the door, watching outside. The crowd had swelled and while I am really really bad at estimating numbers, I am going to guess that there were 50 students all crowded outside in the cold. The trashcans were lined up in front of the school doors and people were on the steps, sidewalk and spilling out onto the street. One girl had a whistle and every time she blew it everyone would yell. Someone threw a small firecracker (or something of the sort) near the steps, after that the principal opened the door and what was left of my class snaked out, laughing. My only other class that day was at 2 and by that point the crowd had dissipated, some went home, some I think to Bellecour. Either way, the 5 of us that had actually come to class finished in peace.
Clips on youtube:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FG8Y0GX9pAQ
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=w-sVQcZ3sz0&feature=related
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Koz9EpzvPSA
Tuesday: the real date of the bloquese. I just happened to see Marina on my way to school and so we walked the rest of the way there together. Paul, a friend of the family just randomly came up "Salut."
I just kind of looked at him for a second. Surprise! First of all, he does not go to the same school and as far as I know, his school is no where nearby. Second of all he was in shorts (French guys also wear shorter shorts than American guys) and a tee-shirt. You have to understand that it was in the 40s, I, for one, was wearing jeans, boots, a long sleeved-shirt, a sweater, a jacket, and a very warm scarf, and was still a little cold. Stupid wind.
"Qu'est-ce que tu fais ici?"
He was a part of the bloquese, apparently people from other schools all gather at Lacassagne, and he was not wearing warm clothes in protest though I fail to see how that helped.
Everyone was on the steps. Trashcans lined up in-front. I saw Charlotte on the steps and went to talk to her.
"Are you going in?"
"No way, are you?"
"I think I have to, for my program I can't skip class"
"Don't worry about it! There probably isn't even class anyways."
I looked at her doubtfully.
"Look" she took my arm "no one will be in class, I won't, Sophie isn't even coming today... and everyone else is out here, protesting" she pointed out our classmates in the crowd, one by one. "Even if you did go in, chances are the teacher is on strike too."
Eventually, I just took her word for it. Smart, smart, Charlotte... from what I heard later no one went in that morning.
In the meantime, everything was barely controlled chaos. People were chanting with signs, yelling, and because they are french, smoking. A small fight broke out, but was over almost as quickly as it had started.
Really it was quite interesting for me and, being me, I really wanted to follow everyone to Bellecour but I can't say that would have been very safe so I heeded my better judgment and decided to go back home. At this point many of the less enthusiastic protesters were trickling out of the crowd to go back home, and many of those more dedicated to the cause were marching off to continue in Bellecour. Marina and I decided to leave by a back ally so that we didn't have to make our way back through the crowd, just as we started to walk away there were shouts and a few high-pitched squeals followed by a crunch. We spun around just in time to see a group of guys over-turn a car on the other side of the street. The driver's side window crushed glass littered on the ground as it teetered for a minute and then stood still, balanced on its right side. The boys all looked at each other, grinning with the adrenalin and laughing. Is it weird that my first thought was not "what the are they doing?" or "the poor owner of that car!" but "damn, of all the days to leave my camera at home!"
Don't worry, the other thoughts followed shortly after, but I am very upset not to have that picture.
Marina and I went way out of our way to avoid the destruction, got a little lost for a few minutes, and took a while getting home. I sat around and worked and memorizing all the irregular verbs and their conjugations in the present tense, as I have long since forgotten them and they are kinda important, if not boring. After lunch I went back to class for the afternoon, as boring as it was as there were maybe 6, 7 people in my class.
The next 2 mornings followed the same pattern. Walk to school, blocquese. Go to class. Do nothing. Go home. Laugh about the french with my Moroccan family. The administration, that had done nothing at all the first two days seemed upset by how out-of hand things had gotten on Tuesday so they started to maintain some sort of order- protesting was still allowed. There were never again as many people as Tuesday, and so we did nothing in class. Seriously, we watched the Titanic in History. We read a really good poem by Victor Hugo in French and talked about how hard it was for people like me to learn French because the language has so many exceptions and contradictions, and written is not always anything like the spoken language. In math the teacher basically did their homework for them. My economics teacher explained the basics of this issue.. why they are trying to raise the retirement age and the arguments for and against it. Basically its not going to solve the problem but they have to do something. We actually did something in Science at the end of the week- took a test. It was written and I made tons of mistakes with grammar (protein is feminin, in case you were wondering) but stil did rather well on the test. By Friday they had already voted on the issue, but as the following week was fall break and they had already skipped an entire week most people continued protesting, just so they didn't have to go to class.
Apparently after the protests were over the skin heads came into town from the countryside, looking for a fight for revenge for all the havoc. Of course that is just an excuse, and basically, we stayed inside that weekend.
Malika rolled her eyes at me once. "The French are always protesting. Always unhappy about something." I laughed and agreed. Its kind-of a pain sometimes. Tons of damage that the state now has to waste more money on in fixing. None of the normal services are offered- bus schedules are messed up and school cafeterias close. They over-react, and I don't agree with what they are fighting for. 2 extra years of work? They have it really good already, they don't need to complain.
And yet, where is that line where they should complain? This aspect of their culture is part of why they have all that they do today. They don't accept anything less, they have high standards and expectations. They are not going to let anyone walk over them. If they did, they wouldn't really be French.
Tuesday, October 19, 2010
Le week-end
Heyyyyy
yea. About last week. I am not posting on it. I don't remember it...
Oh! Except for one very very important thing! Running! Because I found my way to le Parc de la Tete d'or (look up pictures, it is really very very pretty) and I have started jogging there. Its much harder because its 3-4km away from my apartment, which makes it (with stopping to wait for cars and all that stupid stuff) about a 20min jog there, and 20 min back, so I really don't actually get to jog there very much. Still, leaves are changing color and falling IN THE FALL as opposed to maybe in January in Austin and its one of the most beautiful things I have ever seen. If it wasn't obvious before I got to France, it is set in stone now- I will be living somewhere cold when I leave. Its just way too beautiful to walk outside in mid October and see my breath in the air, it makes me want to spin in circles or run or spin cartwheels....
So, this weekend. Saturday morning I went jogging a le parc, where I ran into Emily (other exchange student from CT.) and we jogged around and talked a bit. I got back to the house, took a shower and ate some lunch and went to meet a bunch of AFS friends a la garre part dieu. Krista (Latvia), Carolina (Czech Repbulic), Daniela (Mexico), Nina (Australia), Andre (Bolivia?) all drove/took a train into Lyon and met up with Marina (Brazil), Emily and I (because we all live in Lyon) to hang out for the day. Not the best day for it, as it was rainy, and even though there weren't that many people there were just enough that we couldn't get anything done because someone was always lagging behind to take a picture and no one could really come up with anything to do so we just kind-of wandered. Next time, fewer people or a set agenda is definitely required. However, it was nice to get to see my friends. I left early and walked home and hung out for an hour or so before walking back to the train station with Redouane, Sara et Ayoub. Ayoub was going to le part dieu to buy his phone, but walking through the station (short-cut to the mall) we saw some of Sara's friends from AFS (french kids going to the US for 2 weeks) and stopped to talk to some of them for a while. Sara is really short, and some of the guys were super tall and it looked really funny to have her stand between them, her head several inches shorter than their shoulders... just had to say that. We walked home and went out to dinner at Malika's friend's house for a traditional Moroccan meal... Moroccan food is gooooood. I highly suggest finding someone that can make you real couscous. Maybe I will get Malika to teach me for next time. Anyway, in Morocco you serve everything in a giant shallow bowl in the middle of the table, piled with a mountain of couscous, meat, and VEGETABLES (they were so delicious. I think I ate half of them) and everyone eats out of the same bowl. I told Emily who was weirded out because maybe someone is sick but really, it works pretty well. They don't believe that I am a real American because I don't like soda. Ilyess eventually left to go hang out with friends and their son walked Sara and I home (it was very late and they are convinced girls can't go out alone) because we were both exhausted and ready for bed. As a note- that was close to midnight. We got there around oh... probably somewhere before 9. The further south you live the later you eat, and Redouane told me that in Morocco, he often does not eat dinner until 1 in the morning.
Sunday, I went running again, called both my dad (in China right now) and my mom, sister, grandmother and grandfather (they were visiting). As well as getting a little bit of homework done.
Love you all
bisous!
yea. About last week. I am not posting on it. I don't remember it...
Oh! Except for one very very important thing! Running! Because I found my way to le Parc de la Tete d'or (look up pictures, it is really very very pretty) and I have started jogging there. Its much harder because its 3-4km away from my apartment, which makes it (with stopping to wait for cars and all that stupid stuff) about a 20min jog there, and 20 min back, so I really don't actually get to jog there very much. Still, leaves are changing color and falling IN THE FALL as opposed to maybe in January in Austin and its one of the most beautiful things I have ever seen. If it wasn't obvious before I got to France, it is set in stone now- I will be living somewhere cold when I leave. Its just way too beautiful to walk outside in mid October and see my breath in the air, it makes me want to spin in circles or run or spin cartwheels....
So, this weekend. Saturday morning I went jogging a le parc, where I ran into Emily (other exchange student from CT.) and we jogged around and talked a bit. I got back to the house, took a shower and ate some lunch and went to meet a bunch of AFS friends a la garre part dieu. Krista (Latvia), Carolina (Czech Repbulic), Daniela (Mexico), Nina (Australia), Andre (Bolivia?) all drove/took a train into Lyon and met up with Marina (Brazil), Emily and I (because we all live in Lyon) to hang out for the day. Not the best day for it, as it was rainy, and even though there weren't that many people there were just enough that we couldn't get anything done because someone was always lagging behind to take a picture and no one could really come up with anything to do so we just kind-of wandered. Next time, fewer people or a set agenda is definitely required. However, it was nice to get to see my friends. I left early and walked home and hung out for an hour or so before walking back to the train station with Redouane, Sara et Ayoub. Ayoub was going to le part dieu to buy his phone, but walking through the station (short-cut to the mall) we saw some of Sara's friends from AFS (french kids going to the US for 2 weeks) and stopped to talk to some of them for a while. Sara is really short, and some of the guys were super tall and it looked really funny to have her stand between them, her head several inches shorter than their shoulders... just had to say that. We walked home and went out to dinner at Malika's friend's house for a traditional Moroccan meal... Moroccan food is gooooood. I highly suggest finding someone that can make you real couscous. Maybe I will get Malika to teach me for next time. Anyway, in Morocco you serve everything in a giant shallow bowl in the middle of the table, piled with a mountain of couscous, meat, and VEGETABLES (they were so delicious. I think I ate half of them) and everyone eats out of the same bowl. I told Emily who was weirded out because maybe someone is sick but really, it works pretty well. They don't believe that I am a real American because I don't like soda. Ilyess eventually left to go hang out with friends and their son walked Sara and I home (it was very late and they are convinced girls can't go out alone) because we were both exhausted and ready for bed. As a note- that was close to midnight. We got there around oh... probably somewhere before 9. The further south you live the later you eat, and Redouane told me that in Morocco, he often does not eat dinner until 1 in the morning.
Sunday, I went running again, called both my dad (in China right now) and my mom, sister, grandmother and grandfather (they were visiting). As well as getting a little bit of homework done.
Love you all
bisous!
Monday, October 11, 2010
Wow. Last week might as well have been last month for all I remember about it. Lets see... Monday, english lessons, didn't go so well because he was not paying any attention. My french is slowly getting better. I got a 12 on my french paper, which is considered to be pretty decent here, she definitely grades me on a totally different scale. My history teacher didn't even give me a grade, just told me he was glad I tried... I am still mostly hanging out with Charlotte, Sophie, Caroline and Marina... they are super sweet. It is really fun to have Marina as a friend- we explore the city together, Sophie especially reminds me of some of my friends back home although I couldn't tell you why, and all of them have helped me so so much in class. Actually everyone has.
I may need tons of help, and I would have trouble passing my classes, but at the same time I am finding them exceedingly easy. I am reminded how fast-paced LASA really is because they spend so much more time explaining a subject here...so my understanding of everything is pretty good but communicating what I understand... is another matter entirely.
This weekend we went to Paris, which was fun but I am exhausted. I couldn't even tell you all that we did it went so quickly, and for much of it I was falling in and out of sleep (like whenever we got in the car or sat down). We stayed with family/friends (the relation is way too complicated to try and explain) who came from Senegal... either people in France are very welcoming or people that come from french-speaking Africa are very welcoming... because they were all very very kind. Sunday Sara and I met up with one of her old friends from Lyon who had moved to Paris, and we walked around the champs de lise... its really sad that here, their STORES are prettier than anything we have (Galarie Lafayette). We drove back Sunday afternoon/evening/night and got back to the house around 11:30, after which I still had to take a shower and poor Sara had hwk (I just did mine today in-between and during class).
Alright, so I realized the other day that I have been here for a month already. Which is mind-blowing. Of course I havent been here for a month, I've only been here a week or so. Or was it half a year already... anyway, in honor of a month here, just a few things about France:
-Who needs houses? We can fit 3 times as many in half the space of my house... if that.
-Just because they call it a shower doesn't always mean what you think it does.
-Tacos... there are different interpretations of them all around the world.
-Moroccan tea kills French tea
-French breakfasts are good- Moroccan breakfasts are better.
-The farther south you live, the later you eat dinner. In my house it is always by at least 9:30, but apparently in Morocco they often don't eat dinner until midnight, or early in the morning.
-French students kill American students in the language studies department.
-Shorts in PE? Are you crazy? Pants!
-Scarves... they wear them.
-Toilet seats are a luxury, not a necessity, and don't exist in most public bathrooms.
-Door knobs are in the middle of the door, not the side. Esthetics over physics... somehow that is very very French
-That 300 year old church? Oh yea, its ok. There is another just a few blocks away.
So that's it for today! Love and miss all of you.
Bisous.
I may need tons of help, and I would have trouble passing my classes, but at the same time I am finding them exceedingly easy. I am reminded how fast-paced LASA really is because they spend so much more time explaining a subject here...so my understanding of everything is pretty good but communicating what I understand... is another matter entirely.
This weekend we went to Paris, which was fun but I am exhausted. I couldn't even tell you all that we did it went so quickly, and for much of it I was falling in and out of sleep (like whenever we got in the car or sat down). We stayed with family/friends (the relation is way too complicated to try and explain) who came from Senegal... either people in France are very welcoming or people that come from french-speaking Africa are very welcoming... because they were all very very kind. Sunday Sara and I met up with one of her old friends from Lyon who had moved to Paris, and we walked around the champs de lise... its really sad that here, their STORES are prettier than anything we have (Galarie Lafayette). We drove back Sunday afternoon/evening/night and got back to the house around 11:30, after which I still had to take a shower and poor Sara had hwk (I just did mine today in-between and during class).
Alright, so I realized the other day that I have been here for a month already. Which is mind-blowing. Of course I havent been here for a month, I've only been here a week or so. Or was it half a year already... anyway, in honor of a month here, just a few things about France:
-Who needs houses? We can fit 3 times as many in half the space of my house... if that.
-Just because they call it a shower doesn't always mean what you think it does.
-Tacos... there are different interpretations of them all around the world.
-Moroccan tea kills French tea
-French breakfasts are good- Moroccan breakfasts are better.
-The farther south you live, the later you eat dinner. In my house it is always by at least 9:30, but apparently in Morocco they often don't eat dinner until midnight, or early in the morning.
-French students kill American students in the language studies department.
-Shorts in PE? Are you crazy? Pants!
-Scarves... they wear them.
-Toilet seats are a luxury, not a necessity, and don't exist in most public bathrooms.
-Door knobs are in the middle of the door, not the side. Esthetics over physics... somehow that is very very French
-That 300 year old church? Oh yea, its ok. There is another just a few blocks away.
So that's it for today! Love and miss all of you.
Bisous.
Sunday, October 3, 2010
I am not going to do a post for this past week at school. I am sorry, it is just too much. Mostly, Monday might as well have been a year ago. I don't really remember it. Sorry!
So on to this past weekend...
AFS weekend! Saturday afternoon Ilyess walked me to the train station at Part Dieu (10-15 min away walking)where I met up with Emily and Marina, the other AFS girls from Lyon, and quite a few other AFSers that had taken a train to Lyon in order to catch the train to Anjou. On the way down I sat with Yuka, a really cute Japanese girl who speaks a very little English and even less French. We had fun though... she is very very sweet. We didn't do very much that afternoon, we went into groups with people that speak the same language, I was with the other two Americans, two girls from Finland and a guy from Denmark... we were supposed to do written activities about what we liked and didn't like about France and what we expected, but mostly we drove the volunteers crazy and talked. We had a very good dinner after which I could hardly move and then the Student Ambassadors (french kids going to the US for 2 weeks) "organized" activities. Musical chairs! I almost won... it was really funny to see everyone fall on the floor when they missed a chair though. After that we talked a little bit and then a bunch of us went up on the roof and listened to music until a volunteer came up and yelled at us that some people were trying to sleep and being on the roof at night was dangerous and blah blah blah. Either way, that ended that.
We woke up the next morning and ate breakfast- really yummy yogurt, bread and jam. Apparently you drink tea and hot chocolate out of bowls here, and Moroccan tea kills French tea in a bag. Just not the same. After that we played really really stupid games for a while (Leeettt me see your funky monkey!) Which I think mostly exist to make you feel as awkward as humanly possible so that you get used to the feeling for when you do stupid things with your french friends and family. That and so that they can take really silly pictures of 50 teenagers pretending to be monkeys. We went back into our groups, ore writing stuff... this time though we wrote a letter to our future self that they will give us as we leave, which is actually a pretty good idea. After that we just wandered around for a while, then ate lunch. All of the families brought something, and they prepared a few salads, and by the end of it none of us wanted to move. People here are really addicted to anything chocolate by the way.
After lunch we walked up the hill/mountain (this was no small hill, ok?) to an old castle. On the way up Marshall and I found a small cave filled with brush that would have been really cool to explore otherwise, wild blackberries that can not compare with east Texas berries from the farm, and some grapes growing over a fence that were... wow. One of the most delicious things I have ever had, but they didn't taste much like a grape. Very very good. At the castle you had the most beautiful view of the valley and I cursed myself for forgetting my camera, and the wind was blowing really really hard.
Not much happened after that... we went back down and left with our families. Malika's husband, Sara's stepfather had arrived from Morocco by the time I came back and I met him for the first time... he seems very nice. Otherwise that is about it.
Away from the timeline though: It was so so so much fun. At one point I was sitting at a table where I was speaking french with someone across from me, on my left two guys and a girl were speaking spanish and on my right some girls were speaking English, at the table there were two people from Paraguay, another two from Bolivia, one from Peru, one from Mexico, one from Latvia, one from Finland and me, from the Untied States. It was like that all weekend, a mixture of languages (often half in English, half in French) and a mixture of countries... there was someone from every continent except Antarctica. It is so cool to see how similar, and different, each culture is, and to be able to say I have friends from all over the world now. It makes Austin feel very distant, but in a really good way. It is liberating and amazing and... wow. I really wish I could describe it for you guys back home...
Love and miss you all.
Les Mots:
renifler- to sniff
respirer- to breathe (I can't right now)
tousser- to have a cough
all of these terms relate to the fact that I am pretty sure someone gave me a cold this weekend. Darn.
So on to this past weekend...
AFS weekend! Saturday afternoon Ilyess walked me to the train station at Part Dieu (10-15 min away walking)where I met up with Emily and Marina, the other AFS girls from Lyon, and quite a few other AFSers that had taken a train to Lyon in order to catch the train to Anjou. On the way down I sat with Yuka, a really cute Japanese girl who speaks a very little English and even less French. We had fun though... she is very very sweet. We didn't do very much that afternoon, we went into groups with people that speak the same language, I was with the other two Americans, two girls from Finland and a guy from Denmark... we were supposed to do written activities about what we liked and didn't like about France and what we expected, but mostly we drove the volunteers crazy and talked. We had a very good dinner after which I could hardly move and then the Student Ambassadors (french kids going to the US for 2 weeks) "organized" activities. Musical chairs! I almost won... it was really funny to see everyone fall on the floor when they missed a chair though. After that we talked a little bit and then a bunch of us went up on the roof and listened to music until a volunteer came up and yelled at us that some people were trying to sleep and being on the roof at night was dangerous and blah blah blah. Either way, that ended that.
We woke up the next morning and ate breakfast- really yummy yogurt, bread and jam. Apparently you drink tea and hot chocolate out of bowls here, and Moroccan tea kills French tea in a bag. Just not the same. After that we played really really stupid games for a while (Leeettt me see your funky monkey!) Which I think mostly exist to make you feel as awkward as humanly possible so that you get used to the feeling for when you do stupid things with your french friends and family. That and so that they can take really silly pictures of 50 teenagers pretending to be monkeys. We went back into our groups, ore writing stuff... this time though we wrote a letter to our future self that they will give us as we leave, which is actually a pretty good idea. After that we just wandered around for a while, then ate lunch. All of the families brought something, and they prepared a few salads, and by the end of it none of us wanted to move. People here are really addicted to anything chocolate by the way.
After lunch we walked up the hill/mountain (this was no small hill, ok?) to an old castle. On the way up Marshall and I found a small cave filled with brush that would have been really cool to explore otherwise, wild blackberries that can not compare with east Texas berries from the farm, and some grapes growing over a fence that were... wow. One of the most delicious things I have ever had, but they didn't taste much like a grape. Very very good. At the castle you had the most beautiful view of the valley and I cursed myself for forgetting my camera, and the wind was blowing really really hard.
Not much happened after that... we went back down and left with our families. Malika's husband, Sara's stepfather had arrived from Morocco by the time I came back and I met him for the first time... he seems very nice. Otherwise that is about it.
Away from the timeline though: It was so so so much fun. At one point I was sitting at a table where I was speaking french with someone across from me, on my left two guys and a girl were speaking spanish and on my right some girls were speaking English, at the table there were two people from Paraguay, another two from Bolivia, one from Peru, one from Mexico, one from Latvia, one from Finland and me, from the Untied States. It was like that all weekend, a mixture of languages (often half in English, half in French) and a mixture of countries... there was someone from every continent except Antarctica. It is so cool to see how similar, and different, each culture is, and to be able to say I have friends from all over the world now. It makes Austin feel very distant, but in a really good way. It is liberating and amazing and... wow. I really wish I could describe it for you guys back home...
Love and miss you all.
Les Mots:
renifler- to sniff
respirer- to breathe (I can't right now)
tousser- to have a cough
all of these terms relate to the fact that I am pretty sure someone gave me a cold this weekend. Darn.
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)