Tuesday, September 30, 2008
How I Dearly Love to Laugh!
Today, I was reminded of how important laughter is for the soul. I had two French classes today and everyone just seemed to be in such a silly mood. In our first class, we talked about the institution of marriage in France. Naturally, we proceeded to discuss homosexuality in France. Level 4, which is my level of French here, does not possess the most eloquent of French speakers. Most of us like talking, but it is more likely that we will be misunderstood rather than understood. So, we end up having some pretty entertaining discussions. For example, today, one of the girls from Russia, who is particularly loquacious, suggested that a good age to marry is 18. She went on and on about how "it is necessary" to marry at this age. Our French teacher was a little shocked, but this was nothing in comparison to the next comment. A guy from China piped up during our discussion and said that he liked transvestites. What he meant to ask was, "what is a transvestite?" Our professeur got a kick out of that one. So many things get lost in translation. I really couldn't prevent laughter from this point on. I ended up spending the rest of the day laughing at myself and admittedly at others. It just struck me today for some reason, how hilarious and at the same time, how awesome it is to hear a roomful of different accents struggling to speak French. I love it!
Friday, September 26, 2008
A community is the mental and spiritual condition of knowing that the place is shared, and that the people who share the place define and limit the possibilities of each other's lives. It is the knowledge that people have of each other, their concern for each other, their trust in each other, the freedom with which they come and go among themselves.
- "The Loss of the Future" Wendell Berry
Wednesday, September 24, 2008
Confessions of My Ethnocentric Self
Sometimes you have to get away from a place in order to understand why you value it. This week, I felt the full force of wanting things to go the way they do “back home” in the states. I wanted a pumpkin spice latte from Starbucks, a real pillow to sleep on, a man to act like a gentleman even if it’s all pretense, tap water, a store to be open after 18:00, space, grass, oh yes and a real taco. My ethnocentricity has made a grand entrance this week, but is leaving the party soon I hope. I am not so frustrated as I am distracted. Fortunately, I like so many things here that it overrides the bad aspects. I don’t miss home too badly, I just miss getting to talk to my family and friends. Home means so much to me. I love traveling and visiting new and beautiful places, but I can't help but love knowing that I will always get to "go home". I have had the opportunity to realize how much I prefer where I come from. There are many delights here that make me "ooh and ahh" but it's not home.
However, the days seem to fly by here, so there is not a lot of time to be homesick. There is so much to see that I can barely fit it all in. I almost have every single week-end booked! I feel like I am on a perpetual vacation, apart from stressful class. Every day I see something beautiful I have never seen before. I can’t imagine growing up in a place like
This week-end, Miranda, Katie and I went to
It’s a bit more difficult language-wise at present because there are now tons of Americans swarming the residence where I live. I can speak English whenever I want. Often I want to just because it’s easy, so I have to force myself rather than be forced, to speak French. People on the streets here love to practice their English as well so it makes things difficult. I actually have been complemented a bit on my French this week, which I find hilarious, but I take what I can get. I think it’s the sheer fact that they know I am an English-speaker and they are pleased that I am trying. I like this about
Thursday, September 18, 2008
Restroom Etiquette
Today,
I went to the bathroom or the "WC" and I came out of my stall to find my male French professor going to the same restroom. I completely blushed. Men and women use the same restroom here. I cracked up after I left and told my American friends what happened! This is my week for feeling the cultural differences strongly. I have had a somewhat frustrating week, but it is beginning to pass. The best thing I have done for myself here is just to laugh a lot.
I went to the bathroom or the "WC" and I came out of my stall to find my male French professor going to the same restroom. I completely blushed. Men and women use the same restroom here. I cracked up after I left and told my American friends what happened! This is my week for feeling the cultural differences strongly. I have had a somewhat frustrating week, but it is beginning to pass. The best thing I have done for myself here is just to laugh a lot.
Class and Other Adventures of Sorts
Update on this past week-end. I survived my first week of classes so I was pretty exhausted by Friday. Miranda and I went to visit Paul, our crazy French friend. We ended up sitting in his room for hours only speaking French. This was a hard night for me because I had just had five and a half hours of French classes that day and I was exhausted. Paul’s friend Donauld dropped by and sat and talked as well. They are both so nice and patient with me. Donauld especially goes out of his way to help me and listen to my broken French. We ended up planning to go with Donald to his soccer game on Sunday. I was so tired by the end of that night and a little emotional from all of the French. It was good though because I am now moving out of the stage of being shocked and overwhelmed by only hearing French. Even though I don’t understand a lot, it doesn’t make me feel very frustrated. I try and grasp the main points and I forget the details. So, we went to a French film, “Comme Les Autres”, the next day, and it was great. It was nice just to sit and learn some vocabulary; and it ended up being a very interesting movie.
That night, Miranda and I went out to meet the British girls, and we ended up picking up a bit of an entourage before we left. Three French boys in our dorm decided they wanted to come along so we let them. We knew one of them from earlier and he was nice, but the other two were not so nice. They were just rude to us in that they kept laughing at our French and trying to speak English. This is very frustrating and disheartening when trying to learn a new language. After that night, we decided to be very choosy about which French boys to grace with our company.
The next day, Donald and his sister picked us up for the futbol festivities. This was my first ride in a car with a French driver. I had my reservations. The French are generally bad drivers. This is a true statement. Anyways, Donald is originally from Cameroon. We ended up going to his sister’s house for a bit, which was shocking seeing that one rarely gets invited into a French home. Ha! I defied the norm. We then went to a fete at a big park where Donald made us a traditional meal from Cameroon. Yum! Then we headed to his futbol game. He scored two goals, one for each of us I guess. I think he was pretty proud to have two girls watching his soccer game. It was just a great day. I got to practice a ton of French with Donald, his little nieces and nephews, etc.
We have been going to the cinema often because it’s very inexpensive and helpful. However, I have only seen one good film so far. The other two were ridiculous. In fact, the last one Miranda, Paul and I watched was “La Possibilite d’une Ile”. I kid not when I say that when the credits rolled, everyone laughed. The movie made no sense AT ALL.
Things are settling down here. I finally have finished all of the little details that were so consuming and I can now breathe; oh and learn French. My success in French is manic. I don’t know any other way to explain it. One day, I understand almost everything said to me in class or on the street; but the next day I blank on the simplest question. I laugh at myself ALL THE TIME. I say words and phrases wrong all the time. I even accidentally say bad things on occasion and that gives everyone a good laugh. I find it so refreshing to laugh at myself and move along. This way I don’t take my mistakes seriously; because how can I? I am speaking like a seven year old child! This deserves a good laugh. My writing class is my favorite because I know what is going on. All of the other classes I take are pretty confusing. In my art class, I don’t understand any of the vocabulary used so it’s hard for me to grasp what is being said. In my oral comprehension and speaking class, I am fairly lost but can at least conjure up some kind of sense of understanding during the lesson. In my cinema class, I, of course, get what’s going on in the films but the vocabulary is pretty new to me in this class as well.
Today I freaked out a bit to my professor. She really just read my face because my sentences were not making much sense, but basically I was trying to tell her that I was placed in the wrong level. There are people in my class who have been living in France for one or two years and they speak really, really well. I have a Romanian friend, Andrea, who lives with a French guy and can speak fluent French, but we are in the same level. This makes no sense to me. My professor explained to me that those who can speak well, cannot write and understand the grammar that I grasp. She told me just to relax and realize that the whole point of me being in this level is to challenge and improve the skills I am lacking. So, through some laughter and some tears, I was reassured to stay in my level. Consequently, I had two friends afterwards really encourage me to keep trying. My Bulgarian friend, who speaks four languages, told me that he can barely understand the dictations in class. This was a relief because he talks the most and seems to be the most confident out of everyone. He was encouraging and told me just to practice speaking as much as possible. He looks just like the Bulgarian, Victor Krum, from Harry Potter. It’s really weird.
I have made so many friends, it’s really difficult to keep up with all of them. For instance, today on campus, I was trying to work, but five of my friends walked by and stopped to talk. Then I made a new friend, Gladys from Ecuador, and she stayed and talked for a long time. So, I don’t’ get much work done on campus. If I don’t get much better at French, I will be content just having the experience of meeting so many people from so many different cultures. It is absolutely incredible. The diversity I am living in is fascinating. I get to learn so much about other cultures, but actually even more about my own through this experience. I think I have made way too many plans with people, but somehow I will manage!
Jumping into a bit of French culture, my friend and I were talking today about dress here. The women here are surprisingly modest on the whole. Compared to the U.S., there seems to be a lot less skin shown in public. From what my French friends have told me, the French don’t show off the body so much in public, but they are very comfortable with sexuality. This is obvious in the film, advertisements, etc. I am really confused by this. Promiscuity, casual sex and especially public display of affection seem to be the norm, but dress here is much less provocative. I guess it can be subtly provocative. Anyways, I just got to thinking about the typical American female and her dress. It’s perfectly normal for her to be scantily clad, but it does not directly mean that she is easy. Here, it seems to imply something much more direct. Moral of the story for me: never wear shorts in France.
I started running, ballet and salsa. I think some of us are going to a salsa club to dance on Thursday, woo hoo! This week-end, we are trying to make it to the beach before it’s completely freezing. We are planning to go near St. Nazaire, to Mont St. Michel. There is a stunning chateau here and a gorgeous beach we want to see. The days fly by, so Miranda and I are planning our week-ends in advance so that we don’t lose track.
The nights and days are so beautiful here. It has been so clear and crisp outside. I can see the moon at night so clearly from my window. During the day, I have been noticing the trees changing colors. I still can’t get over how nice the weather is.
Oh yes, the tramway. I wanted to talk about this because it’s such a brilliant idea. Nantes is a big city, so they have a genius transportation system. It took me a few days to get used to, but now I am completely comfortable with the tram. It is a bus that runs on a few different lines all throughout the city. It is just like a subway, but above ground. So, you don’t have to go underground to get to places, making it a safer and much lovelier ride. I heart the tram, and I think every city should have one.
As for now, I am aching to go to Paris, even though there is still so, so much to see here.
That night, Miranda and I went out to meet the British girls, and we ended up picking up a bit of an entourage before we left. Three French boys in our dorm decided they wanted to come along so we let them. We knew one of them from earlier and he was nice, but the other two were not so nice. They were just rude to us in that they kept laughing at our French and trying to speak English. This is very frustrating and disheartening when trying to learn a new language. After that night, we decided to be very choosy about which French boys to grace with our company.
The next day, Donald and his sister picked us up for the futbol festivities. This was my first ride in a car with a French driver. I had my reservations. The French are generally bad drivers. This is a true statement. Anyways, Donald is originally from Cameroon. We ended up going to his sister’s house for a bit, which was shocking seeing that one rarely gets invited into a French home. Ha! I defied the norm. We then went to a fete at a big park where Donald made us a traditional meal from Cameroon. Yum! Then we headed to his futbol game. He scored two goals, one for each of us I guess. I think he was pretty proud to have two girls watching his soccer game. It was just a great day. I got to practice a ton of French with Donald, his little nieces and nephews, etc.
We have been going to the cinema often because it’s very inexpensive and helpful. However, I have only seen one good film so far. The other two were ridiculous. In fact, the last one Miranda, Paul and I watched was “La Possibilite d’une Ile”. I kid not when I say that when the credits rolled, everyone laughed. The movie made no sense AT ALL.
Things are settling down here. I finally have finished all of the little details that were so consuming and I can now breathe; oh and learn French. My success in French is manic. I don’t know any other way to explain it. One day, I understand almost everything said to me in class or on the street; but the next day I blank on the simplest question. I laugh at myself ALL THE TIME. I say words and phrases wrong all the time. I even accidentally say bad things on occasion and that gives everyone a good laugh. I find it so refreshing to laugh at myself and move along. This way I don’t take my mistakes seriously; because how can I? I am speaking like a seven year old child! This deserves a good laugh. My writing class is my favorite because I know what is going on. All of the other classes I take are pretty confusing. In my art class, I don’t understand any of the vocabulary used so it’s hard for me to grasp what is being said. In my oral comprehension and speaking class, I am fairly lost but can at least conjure up some kind of sense of understanding during the lesson. In my cinema class, I, of course, get what’s going on in the films but the vocabulary is pretty new to me in this class as well.
Today I freaked out a bit to my professor. She really just read my face because my sentences were not making much sense, but basically I was trying to tell her that I was placed in the wrong level. There are people in my class who have been living in France for one or two years and they speak really, really well. I have a Romanian friend, Andrea, who lives with a French guy and can speak fluent French, but we are in the same level. This makes no sense to me. My professor explained to me that those who can speak well, cannot write and understand the grammar that I grasp. She told me just to relax and realize that the whole point of me being in this level is to challenge and improve the skills I am lacking. So, through some laughter and some tears, I was reassured to stay in my level. Consequently, I had two friends afterwards really encourage me to keep trying. My Bulgarian friend, who speaks four languages, told me that he can barely understand the dictations in class. This was a relief because he talks the most and seems to be the most confident out of everyone. He was encouraging and told me just to practice speaking as much as possible. He looks just like the Bulgarian, Victor Krum, from Harry Potter. It’s really weird.
I have made so many friends, it’s really difficult to keep up with all of them. For instance, today on campus, I was trying to work, but five of my friends walked by and stopped to talk. Then I made a new friend, Gladys from Ecuador, and she stayed and talked for a long time. So, I don’t’ get much work done on campus. If I don’t get much better at French, I will be content just having the experience of meeting so many people from so many different cultures. It is absolutely incredible. The diversity I am living in is fascinating. I get to learn so much about other cultures, but actually even more about my own through this experience. I think I have made way too many plans with people, but somehow I will manage!
Jumping into a bit of French culture, my friend and I were talking today about dress here. The women here are surprisingly modest on the whole. Compared to the U.S., there seems to be a lot less skin shown in public. From what my French friends have told me, the French don’t show off the body so much in public, but they are very comfortable with sexuality. This is obvious in the film, advertisements, etc. I am really confused by this. Promiscuity, casual sex and especially public display of affection seem to be the norm, but dress here is much less provocative. I guess it can be subtly provocative. Anyways, I just got to thinking about the typical American female and her dress. It’s perfectly normal for her to be scantily clad, but it does not directly mean that she is easy. Here, it seems to imply something much more direct. Moral of the story for me: never wear shorts in France.
I started running, ballet and salsa. I think some of us are going to a salsa club to dance on Thursday, woo hoo! This week-end, we are trying to make it to the beach before it’s completely freezing. We are planning to go near St. Nazaire, to Mont St. Michel. There is a stunning chateau here and a gorgeous beach we want to see. The days fly by, so Miranda and I are planning our week-ends in advance so that we don’t lose track.
The nights and days are so beautiful here. It has been so clear and crisp outside. I can see the moon at night so clearly from my window. During the day, I have been noticing the trees changing colors. I still can’t get over how nice the weather is.
Oh yes, the tramway. I wanted to talk about this because it’s such a brilliant idea. Nantes is a big city, so they have a genius transportation system. It took me a few days to get used to, but now I am completely comfortable with the tram. It is a bus that runs on a few different lines all throughout the city. It is just like a subway, but above ground. So, you don’t have to go underground to get to places, making it a safer and much lovelier ride. I heart the tram, and I think every city should have one.
As for now, I am aching to go to Paris, even though there is still so, so much to see here.
Wednesday, September 10, 2008
I am Changing
“Je suis tres fatigue. Je suis tres fatigue.” This is all I am saying in French right now. I am very tired. I just want to sit down for a few minutes and cry, but I have no where to do that. I went to the bathroom at the Eurostar in London before departing to France, but I couldn’t get a good cry out. I guess I don’t really need that kind of catharsis, but really I just need to sleep in a room by myself. My body aches from rushing luggage onto this train and that one, but I feel strong, capable, willing to take risks and therefore make mistakes. This is a FIRST for me. I never go into anything I do with this mindset. I always plan to avoid mistakes and often therefore evade risk altogether. Typically if there is a chance that I will fall down or mess something up, I will do everything in my power to escape the situation. As much as I thought that I like feeling safe and in control, I am realizing oddly that I like this feeling of the unknown. There is such a greater sense of triumph when you try something difficult, without knowing what the end will be like. It’s exhilarating! I feel like I am just a wisp of something being tossed about in the air. I have direction and goals, but I have no idea what the means are to the end. I am putting over-planning under-foot and I am facing challenges on the fly! One simply cannot dwell on failures and mishaps when traveling. I am learning to move on from things optimistically and sensibly because it is necessary especially when having to take complete care of yourself. I thought I was independent at UT Chattanooga, and to a certain extent I was, but this is so much more challenging. When I am upset, I can’t complain to my dear friends. When I am hungry, I have to go find something to eat instead of food being so accessible. When I want to just talk to someone, I have to speak in another language or ask if he or she speaks Anglais. I have met new friends and people along the way while in the UK, but no one is going with me. I can’t call so and so to come to the grocery with me, or to ride the train with me or to find a hostel or hotel with me, I have to figure it out myself. The thing about this being “independent” ideal is that one is never truly independent. We all depend, whether Christian or non-Christian, on something to help us through. This might be God, a friend, a bottle of wine, etc. What I am finding is that there is nothing that can replace the absolute security I feel when I relinquish all control to God and give dependence to Him. I have been shocked at the amount of times, just in two weeks, that God has made my way safe and good. But I shouldn’t be shocked. I am calling out to the Lord for strength in my time of need and He is answering me in His way. I couldn’t have asked for a better lesson to learn. I have been struggling with fear without knowing it for a long time. I am always afraid of what will happen next and how I can make sure I know the outcome so that it’s not so frightening. This summer was my dénouement of sorts in this story. I have been living in dependency on anything I could find available, any ready ear to hear my problems, any savior to rescue and stand with me, but these have all been cheap impressions because I have had the order all wrong. This summer, I was out of options. I couldn’t extract any more help from anyone; and I couldn’t give any advice either. I thrive on giving advice, and I think I am good at it. But I have been so lost in my own selfishness that I couldn’t say anything worth saying anymore. It was one of the strangest things I have ever experienced for I always have something to say. I value highly, opinions, and those who have them and who take a stand for them. But I couldn’t figure out where all of my words had gone. It’s like I had nothing good to say the whole summer. I think I know what God was up to now. He silenced me. When all my words, hopes, and “escapes” failed me, I had no other option but to look to the Lord. God makes it so easy for us to turn to Him. We can call His name anytime, anywhere. I wonder what is wrong with me so often when I struggle to get others’ help, attention and advice, and the omnipotent, omniscient, omnipresent Father is waiting in continuous grace and love for His flighty, unfaithful child.
I have always had an adventurous side to me that gets buried under loads of carefulness, restraint and ultimately fear. It’s not that I have ever really been afraid of doing crazy things, I like that part; it’s that I always try and imagine the outcome. Usually, I expect the outcome to be grim and unprofitable so I suppress the desire and move to safer ground. It took something as simple as taking flight, literally, to get me off of the ground. I am starting to really see what Chesterton means when he talks about how “unsafe” and perilous Christianity is! It’s not about perfection, it’s about risk. Being able to suck it up and say okay, life’s unpredictable, but God is not. Safety and rest can be found in no other place, but in His hand. When I fall asleep at night, I feel the most displaced. I am typically sleeping somewhere I am unfamiliar with. I have a very strong sense of place. I love travel, but I feel deep gravity toward home. So, naturally, at night I have always felt like I am in unsafe oblivion. I imagine that I am curled up in the palm of God, sleeping in a place so close to home; that my anxiety is gone and I rest well. I know it’s a bit strange but the mental picture give me solace.
I don’t want to get so far ahead of myself in thinking that I am changing when in fact I am still just as apt to control my life, instead of letting God control it. However, I feel a desire to relinquish hold on my life in a way that I have never experienced. Oddly, I am more productive, less judgmental and way more adventurous!
I am about to arrive in Lille. I have no idea if I can find a train ticket to Nantes. I haven’t cried yet and I somehow have some miraculous strength though I have had no sleep! Life has never been so full as it is now just because my heart is in the right place. “This journey is my own” as Sara Groves so wisely sings. I believe it; I want my dear family and friends, but these are satisfying only when I trust and love God above all else.
I have always had an adventurous side to me that gets buried under loads of carefulness, restraint and ultimately fear. It’s not that I have ever really been afraid of doing crazy things, I like that part; it’s that I always try and imagine the outcome. Usually, I expect the outcome to be grim and unprofitable so I suppress the desire and move to safer ground. It took something as simple as taking flight, literally, to get me off of the ground. I am starting to really see what Chesterton means when he talks about how “unsafe” and perilous Christianity is! It’s not about perfection, it’s about risk. Being able to suck it up and say okay, life’s unpredictable, but God is not. Safety and rest can be found in no other place, but in His hand. When I fall asleep at night, I feel the most displaced. I am typically sleeping somewhere I am unfamiliar with. I have a very strong sense of place. I love travel, but I feel deep gravity toward home. So, naturally, at night I have always felt like I am in unsafe oblivion. I imagine that I am curled up in the palm of God, sleeping in a place so close to home; that my anxiety is gone and I rest well. I know it’s a bit strange but the mental picture give me solace.
I don’t want to get so far ahead of myself in thinking that I am changing when in fact I am still just as apt to control my life, instead of letting God control it. However, I feel a desire to relinquish hold on my life in a way that I have never experienced. Oddly, I am more productive, less judgmental and way more adventurous!
I am about to arrive in Lille. I have no idea if I can find a train ticket to Nantes. I haven’t cried yet and I somehow have some miraculous strength though I have had no sleep! Life has never been so full as it is now just because my heart is in the right place. “This journey is my own” as Sara Groves so wisely sings. I believe it; I want my dear family and friends, but these are satisfying only when I trust and love God above all else.
Specifics
Nothing much else interesting to tell except that no one believes me, until I open my mouth, that I am American. I guess I am a complete European poser, but everyone I have met either thinks I am French or British. This is a fun game. Also, whenever Miranda and I go out into Nantes, we get a ridiculous amount of stares, mainly from creepy men, I think because we carry backpacks like foreigners and Miranda has very blonde hair and I wear sunglasses. We have already had a fair few, misfortunate accosts from gentlemen, so I have resolved to stop smiling altogether.
Life is good here. I feel spoiled beyond all measure; I wish I could bring all of my dear ones with me. I know that I will grow immensely after and during all of this. I am so thankful for my parents who helped me get everything together for this trip. I don’t deserve this, but the Lord has blessed each of my steps. For now, I can’t wait for class to commence.
After getting settled in, filling out millions of French papers and running around town doing errands in a city I didn’t know at all, we decided to do something fun. After being pretty exhausted from my two weeks in the UK and then immediately being thrown into all things French, I crashed in my room for two days. Saturday, Miranda and I explored Nantes. We went downtown to all of the stores and sights there. Then we ran into a big group of British girls whom we had met earlier. They are SO much fun! They invited us to go out that night and so we met up with them at the tram that night. It was raining of course, but we still ventured out. We went to an adorable Italian restaurant in the centre-ville. After feasting, we made friends with the owner who was this sweet Italian man who gave us bottles of free wine and champagne. Everyone goes to bars here. It’s a lot different than at home. It’s very safe for the most part. I know it sounds sketchy, but it has been just another place to speak French for us. It was getting late, the Frenchmen were getting out of hand, so Miranda and I left. We don’t do the whole “going out” thing so we head home early if we even go out. On our ride back, we met more French boys who wanted to speak English and we simply refused! Do to our resilience, we caught the attention of a French student who only spoke French to us. So George is one of our new, favorite friends.
We went out the next day to see Les Machines d’Iles. This is a touristy thing to do, but it is awesome. There is this museum with all of these machines and also a giant elephant that you can ride around the town. Nantes is just beautiful with the Loire River and the sun shining on the boats passing by the café. We had a lovely day. We did have a guy come up to our table and try and sell himself to us for one euro; that was a bit of a shocker. Some people are very, very strange here. But you just have to move past it. On a good note, a man asked Miranda and I on the tram if we wanted to tutor his daughter in English while we are here. So this was good because we might get some extra cash and some more French practice.
Everyone asks me about the food. Yes, the food for the most part is delicious. Wine, cheese and bread galore! The wine and cheese is super inexpensive. It’s so different from home. One can get brie and camembert for just about 2 euros. A local, good bottle of wine is just as cheap as water. There are about four university restaurants here. We eat an entire meal, salad, entrée and dessert for 2.80. The food is very good. I am a bit of a snob when it comes to food so believe me, it’s an incredible deal. There is a lot of fish served here because of the location of Nantes so I am happy that I like fish. I am trying a different pastry every time I go to a patisserie/boulangerie. I love the coffee. I am learning to wean myself off of all the sugar and milk and I take a tiny but of sugar with my coffee. I drink hot tea with milk at night. The chocolateries here are incredible as well. We have tried all sorts of chocolates we didn’t know existed here. Yum, yum!
Many people stare here. There is not a lot of reserve in this area. It makes me feel self-conscious, but I am learning to get over it. In the US, when you catch someone looking at you, he or she tends to divert the eyes immediately. Oh no, not here. No shame. The pace of life here is very different. People take breaks during the day. They shop in the middle of the day. Everyone takes time to sit and enjoy. You are hard-pressed to find anywhere that will give you a coffee to go. I like this, though it takes some getting used to. There is a lot of freedom in the French way of doing things. They kind of cut you loose as a student and let you ask questions and figure things out. There are about a million different ways of getting one thing accomplished. Students are pampered in the US in that we get things done for us either by the system or our parents. The French let you take the reigns administratively. This is daunting, but liberating. There are quite a few grey areas.
Most everyone here has been extremely helpful and accommodating. People say the French are snobs, but I find this entirely false from my small experience. Everyone here is generous with their time and help. They don’t seem to mind my butchering their language. This has been a pleasant surprise. I feel my French digressing at this point already because I have spent a lot of time meeting other students who either speak English as a first language or speak English as a second language. I am ready to start classes so that I will be forced to listen, speak and write in French.
Snoop Dog is coming to Nantes. I just thought I would say this because it sounded hilarious to me.
I am taking ballet and salsa four times a week here. They have an awesome sports program here. I am so excited to get to do all of this dancing. I think it will be a good release and a great way to burn the extra calories I obtain from frequenting the patisserie! My skin has been breaking out pretty badly, which is a bummer. I don’t know that my nutrition is very good here. I need to work on that. In addition to my mandatory course work, I am taking Cinema and Art Discussion. I can’t wait!
Our new friend Paul is taking us out for dinner and French this week-end. Then, on Saturday, it’s French movie night with the British girls!
I know this is a lot of boring information. Right now, it's all my brain can think to write. Feelings and emotions will hopefully flood back soon.
Life is good here. I feel spoiled beyond all measure; I wish I could bring all of my dear ones with me. I know that I will grow immensely after and during all of this. I am so thankful for my parents who helped me get everything together for this trip. I don’t deserve this, but the Lord has blessed each of my steps. For now, I can’t wait for class to commence.
After getting settled in, filling out millions of French papers and running around town doing errands in a city I didn’t know at all, we decided to do something fun. After being pretty exhausted from my two weeks in the UK and then immediately being thrown into all things French, I crashed in my room for two days. Saturday, Miranda and I explored Nantes. We went downtown to all of the stores and sights there. Then we ran into a big group of British girls whom we had met earlier. They are SO much fun! They invited us to go out that night and so we met up with them at the tram that night. It was raining of course, but we still ventured out. We went to an adorable Italian restaurant in the centre-ville. After feasting, we made friends with the owner who was this sweet Italian man who gave us bottles of free wine and champagne. Everyone goes to bars here. It’s a lot different than at home. It’s very safe for the most part. I know it sounds sketchy, but it has been just another place to speak French for us. It was getting late, the Frenchmen were getting out of hand, so Miranda and I left. We don’t do the whole “going out” thing so we head home early if we even go out. On our ride back, we met more French boys who wanted to speak English and we simply refused! Do to our resilience, we caught the attention of a French student who only spoke French to us. So George is one of our new, favorite friends.
We went out the next day to see Les Machines d’Iles. This is a touristy thing to do, but it is awesome. There is this museum with all of these machines and also a giant elephant that you can ride around the town. Nantes is just beautiful with the Loire River and the sun shining on the boats passing by the café. We had a lovely day. We did have a guy come up to our table and try and sell himself to us for one euro; that was a bit of a shocker. Some people are very, very strange here. But you just have to move past it. On a good note, a man asked Miranda and I on the tram if we wanted to tutor his daughter in English while we are here. So this was good because we might get some extra cash and some more French practice.
Everyone asks me about the food. Yes, the food for the most part is delicious. Wine, cheese and bread galore! The wine and cheese is super inexpensive. It’s so different from home. One can get brie and camembert for just about 2 euros. A local, good bottle of wine is just as cheap as water. There are about four university restaurants here. We eat an entire meal, salad, entrée and dessert for 2.80. The food is very good. I am a bit of a snob when it comes to food so believe me, it’s an incredible deal. There is a lot of fish served here because of the location of Nantes so I am happy that I like fish. I am trying a different pastry every time I go to a patisserie/boulangerie. I love the coffee. I am learning to wean myself off of all the sugar and milk and I take a tiny but of sugar with my coffee. I drink hot tea with milk at night. The chocolateries here are incredible as well. We have tried all sorts of chocolates we didn’t know existed here. Yum, yum!
Many people stare here. There is not a lot of reserve in this area. It makes me feel self-conscious, but I am learning to get over it. In the US, when you catch someone looking at you, he or she tends to divert the eyes immediately. Oh no, not here. No shame. The pace of life here is very different. People take breaks during the day. They shop in the middle of the day. Everyone takes time to sit and enjoy. You are hard-pressed to find anywhere that will give you a coffee to go. I like this, though it takes some getting used to. There is a lot of freedom in the French way of doing things. They kind of cut you loose as a student and let you ask questions and figure things out. There are about a million different ways of getting one thing accomplished. Students are pampered in the US in that we get things done for us either by the system or our parents. The French let you take the reigns administratively. This is daunting, but liberating. There are quite a few grey areas.
Most everyone here has been extremely helpful and accommodating. People say the French are snobs, but I find this entirely false from my small experience. Everyone here is generous with their time and help. They don’t seem to mind my butchering their language. This has been a pleasant surprise. I feel my French digressing at this point already because I have spent a lot of time meeting other students who either speak English as a first language or speak English as a second language. I am ready to start classes so that I will be forced to listen, speak and write in French.
Snoop Dog is coming to Nantes. I just thought I would say this because it sounded hilarious to me.
I am taking ballet and salsa four times a week here. They have an awesome sports program here. I am so excited to get to do all of this dancing. I think it will be a good release and a great way to burn the extra calories I obtain from frequenting the patisserie! My skin has been breaking out pretty badly, which is a bummer. I don’t know that my nutrition is very good here. I need to work on that. In addition to my mandatory course work, I am taking Cinema and Art Discussion. I can’t wait!
Our new friend Paul is taking us out for dinner and French this week-end. Then, on Saturday, it’s French movie night with the British girls!
I know this is a lot of boring information. Right now, it's all my brain can think to write. Feelings and emotions will hopefully flood back soon.
First Days
As I stepped off of the Eurostar train from London to Lille, the reality of my immersion hit me like a ton of bricks. From this point on, I realized that I actually was going to have to speak French if I wanted to eat, sleep, or enroll in school. I took it one step at a time, beginning in the train station. I started with asking someone the time, then I proceeded to order some breakfast; ask directions and then for the big finale, hail a taxi to my hotel. I managed these small tasks in French on my own, but I had no idea how the next day was going to work itself out. After I woke up the next morning, I realized that I had not heard a word of English for two days except for the seven or eight minutes that I talked on the phone with my mom. This was a very strange feeling. That morning, I felt completely incapable of even taking a step outside my door. I thought, “well, Natalie, you can just go back home now, you’ve had fun, but this is not going to work.” Well, going home was not a real option, I tried crying; not a tear, so I set out to meet up with a Canadian friend I met on facebook who was coming to Nantes through my study abroad program. I waited at the train station looking for a blonde Canadian for two hours and still no sign. Of course I knew there had to be a glitch in this little brilliant plan I cooked up because no American can really function without a cell phone. I have already grown accustomed to being “disconnected” from cell phones, internet, etc., so this mishap was just a result of poor planning. It turned out that I was inside while she was outside, and she went inside to page me en francais while I went outside to look for her. As I was about to take a taxi and leave, I saw a seemingly lost blonde girl with way too much luggage. We were both ecstatic to see each other for fear that we might have both just jumped back on a plane across the Atlantic if the other had not shown up.
This first day was a catastrophe in that we were handed a million different documents with instructions from the fastest speaking French women in the country. Okay, that might be an exaggeration, but when you are exhausted from dragging loads of luggage with weak arms like I have and at this point a pretty weak brain, you don’t want to have to do all of this. I felt like possibly what a baby would feel like if he or she could comprehend and remember what it was like not to be able to walk, but to have this driving force pushing and forcing you to survive. The city was brand new and Miranda and I had to make our way to bureaus, poste offices, and banks just so we could sleep somewhere that night; and yes, every single bit of it was in French.
The next day, I woke up feeling ten times better. Miranda and I had to go out to take care of more forms and such and then go take our placement test. Of course I am thinking, why in the world do we have to take a test the day after arriving; it’s a bit much. So we walk into this giant room filled with students and faculty at the front speaking French and handing out tests. I didn’t panic though. I started to feel this overwhelming sense of peace and ease about communicating in French. I was excited to take the test for some odd reason. Well, necessity is indeed the mother of invention, and I began to feel this idea play out in my own situation. I knew I had to understand directions, so I listened as closely as possible and I started to understand tons more than I thought I would. It’s strange; it’s as if you somehow understand words and their meanings even though you know for certain that you have never learned them in your life. I feel this ungovernable force compelling me to understand better, speak more, and take chances with the language. I knew logically that I didn’t possess the necessary skills for moving through all of these administration hoola-hoops in French. And I mean EVERYTHING was in French. Somehow though, I was able to understand and communicate, far surpassing my expectation. This is why I think that when people say they are no good at languages, they just don’t know that it’s ten times more difficult to be in a classroom than immersed and taught by force. If I want to survive here, I have to speak and listen in French. I opened a bank account already in complete French; this was interesting! I described a coat design to a sales person in French; and I got into level four, big surprise, in my French program!
I meet so many people here who speak three and four languages without any problem, so this puts my challenge in a new light. I am not being stretched that much. Right now, I am not stressed, which is completely shocking seeing that there are times when I fail miserably at getting my point across and there is just awkward silence that ensues. However, I am so excited to see myself improve. I also am just enjoying the pastries, cheese, bread, wine, coffee(all very inexpensive compared to everything else) and even the typical smelly French streets. No, it’s not all out of a dream, but for the most part everything is super! It is very rainy and chilly in Nantes. Nantes is right near the coast in a region called the Loire-Atlantic. They make incredible white wines, Muscadet, here in the valley. It is also a grand chateau/castle region. I have been pretty wet and cold here, but it is nice. There is always a break in the clouds and you can go out with a wool coat on or just a scarf, long sleeves and pants…whatever you wish! I think I understand why everyone here is so fashionable. It’s because they get to wear clothes without sweating all the way through until November. Autumn starts in September for sure, and it is going to be absolutely gorgeous, I just know. So, I adore the weather in Nantes.
This first day was a catastrophe in that we were handed a million different documents with instructions from the fastest speaking French women in the country. Okay, that might be an exaggeration, but when you are exhausted from dragging loads of luggage with weak arms like I have and at this point a pretty weak brain, you don’t want to have to do all of this. I felt like possibly what a baby would feel like if he or she could comprehend and remember what it was like not to be able to walk, but to have this driving force pushing and forcing you to survive. The city was brand new and Miranda and I had to make our way to bureaus, poste offices, and banks just so we could sleep somewhere that night; and yes, every single bit of it was in French.
The next day, I woke up feeling ten times better. Miranda and I had to go out to take care of more forms and such and then go take our placement test. Of course I am thinking, why in the world do we have to take a test the day after arriving; it’s a bit much. So we walk into this giant room filled with students and faculty at the front speaking French and handing out tests. I didn’t panic though. I started to feel this overwhelming sense of peace and ease about communicating in French. I was excited to take the test for some odd reason. Well, necessity is indeed the mother of invention, and I began to feel this idea play out in my own situation. I knew I had to understand directions, so I listened as closely as possible and I started to understand tons more than I thought I would. It’s strange; it’s as if you somehow understand words and their meanings even though you know for certain that you have never learned them in your life. I feel this ungovernable force compelling me to understand better, speak more, and take chances with the language. I knew logically that I didn’t possess the necessary skills for moving through all of these administration hoola-hoops in French. And I mean EVERYTHING was in French. Somehow though, I was able to understand and communicate, far surpassing my expectation. This is why I think that when people say they are no good at languages, they just don’t know that it’s ten times more difficult to be in a classroom than immersed and taught by force. If I want to survive here, I have to speak and listen in French. I opened a bank account already in complete French; this was interesting! I described a coat design to a sales person in French; and I got into level four, big surprise, in my French program!
I meet so many people here who speak three and four languages without any problem, so this puts my challenge in a new light. I am not being stretched that much. Right now, I am not stressed, which is completely shocking seeing that there are times when I fail miserably at getting my point across and there is just awkward silence that ensues. However, I am so excited to see myself improve. I also am just enjoying the pastries, cheese, bread, wine, coffee(all very inexpensive compared to everything else) and even the typical smelly French streets. No, it’s not all out of a dream, but for the most part everything is super! It is very rainy and chilly in Nantes. Nantes is right near the coast in a region called the Loire-Atlantic. They make incredible white wines, Muscadet, here in the valley. It is also a grand chateau/castle region. I have been pretty wet and cold here, but it is nice. There is always a break in the clouds and you can go out with a wool coat on or just a scarf, long sleeves and pants…whatever you wish! I think I understand why everyone here is so fashionable. It’s because they get to wear clothes without sweating all the way through until November. Autumn starts in September for sure, and it is going to be absolutely gorgeous, I just know. So, I adore the weather in Nantes.
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