Peur du jour- 29 Fevrier 2012: Pop midterm on maritime trade
Happy leap day, everyone! As you all know, 2012 is une année bissextile (I like the English phrasing better...).
Anyways, my Grand défis course is giving me plenty o' stories to recount. Today marked the first class with a new professor (it's kind of complicated, but the professor who was teaching Wednesdays is now teaching the Tuesday class, the Tuesday prof will be finished with his portion of the class, and we have a new professor for Wednesdays). I was excited to see that he was holding a stack of papers Is it a syllabus? Maybe an explanation of our final assessment? Something to read?As my mind (which is thirsty for some good ol' carolina schoolin') raced through all of the marvelous possibilities the professor said that today we would be doing a synthèse. A synthèse is a specific type of paper that all of the French know how to write which involves the synthesis of many documents to respond to a specific question (like a DBQ, for all of you AP scholars out there).
The subject: maritime trade
Most of the documents were just big charts showing sizes of ports and traffic flows of world trade and the ratios of road transport to train transport to boat transport around Europe. So, I'm thinking this can't be graded, right? Did anyone else know about this? Is this a pop-midterm? And the French students are getting kind of antsy. They actually stopped talking for a period of about an hour to work on this paper and feverishly asked questions about what certain words meant or why more information wasn't included in a specific chart. Jason (the other UNC student in the class with me) and I were considering asking the professor for some sort of alternate assignment or at least the chance to take it home and work on it, but I think we both realized it would be best to just dig in and do it and talk to the professor after class.
It was around the hour mark when they started talking. And then we realized that either the French are so laissez-faire about talking in class that they even allow it during tests, or that we were most likely just doing a practice essay. Upon talking to the professor after class, this synthèse was, in fact, "pour pratiquer."
But I did do my best to navigate around a maritime trade essay. And the new professor seems very nice and helpful. So all in all, it was a good class!
Wednesday, February 29, 2012
Tuesday, February 28, 2012
Talk the talk
Peur du jour- 28 Fevrier 2012: Talking to a French classmate
So let's just pretend it didn't take me 8 weeks to rack up my courage to do this. (Yeah, that's right; I've been here for 8 weeks. I only have 12 weeks left in Europa!) I guess to be fair to myself, it's really 7 weeks because I didn't have class my first week here. And if I really want to be completely accurate, I didn't have class at le fac for the past two weeks, so I guess it's only like 5 weeks. It took me five weeks to do this (welcome to the mind of Kathleen, where everything is rationalized and over-analyzed).
So I know I've already complained about my French class which is basically a two hour dictation. The week before I left for Provence, a student I met at la Source (my worship and fellowship group) informed me that it is some sort of requirement for professors working with ERASMUS students to post their notes online. She figured that there might be something already in place to help me out.
In France when you ask the professor anything they say "well, did you ask another student about it?" before they'll even answer your question, so I knew I had to ask another student about it first. I left for class earlier than normal this morning so I could scope out my prey. I ended up just asking the first student to take a seat near me. After about thirty seconds rehearsing in my head what I was going to say (along with lots of Just do it, Kathleen. Don't be a big baby.), I broke the total silence in the room with my awkward American demeanor.
And I lived! Unfortunately, the girl I talked to said there was no online component. I also asked her what she thought of the professor of which I am so very fond (sarcasm) and she called him nul (which is what the French love to say when they think that something is garbage). She also said that she barely even attends that part of class because it's not interesting. This gives me slight hope that if I am at least there and making an effort, maybe the professor will cut me some slack.
If I can muster up enough courage, I'll probably approach the French professor again tomorrow. This is despite the fact that he already fed Jason and I the line that he uses copy-written images and therefore can't post his copiously detailed power points online for students. Only a tad frustrating, but that's life in France for you (the pastries and bread make up for it, je vous jure!)
You guys are probably tired of hearing about my fears of approaching natives, but this one was a long time coming, so I figured it was legitimate. I promise that next time I'll have gone sky diving or eaten the world's hottest pepper or maybe even a more culturally relevant activity.
So let's just pretend it didn't take me 8 weeks to rack up my courage to do this. (Yeah, that's right; I've been here for 8 weeks. I only have 12 weeks left in Europa!) I guess to be fair to myself, it's really 7 weeks because I didn't have class my first week here. And if I really want to be completely accurate, I didn't have class at le fac for the past two weeks, so I guess it's only like 5 weeks. It took me five weeks to do this (welcome to the mind of Kathleen, where everything is rationalized and over-analyzed).
So I know I've already complained about my French class which is basically a two hour dictation. The week before I left for Provence, a student I met at la Source (my worship and fellowship group) informed me that it is some sort of requirement for professors working with ERASMUS students to post their notes online. She figured that there might be something already in place to help me out.
In France when you ask the professor anything they say "well, did you ask another student about it?" before they'll even answer your question, so I knew I had to ask another student about it first. I left for class earlier than normal this morning so I could scope out my prey. I ended up just asking the first student to take a seat near me. After about thirty seconds rehearsing in my head what I was going to say (along with lots of Just do it, Kathleen. Don't be a big baby.), I broke the total silence in the room with my awkward American demeanor.
And I lived! Unfortunately, the girl I talked to said there was no online component. I also asked her what she thought of the professor of which I am so very fond (sarcasm) and she called him nul (which is what the French love to say when they think that something is garbage). She also said that she barely even attends that part of class because it's not interesting. This gives me slight hope that if I am at least there and making an effort, maybe the professor will cut me some slack.
If I can muster up enough courage, I'll probably approach the French professor again tomorrow. This is despite the fact that he already fed Jason and I the line that he uses copy-written images and therefore can't post his copiously detailed power points online for students. Only a tad frustrating, but that's life in France for you (the pastries and bread make up for it, je vous jure!)
You guys are probably tired of hearing about my fears of approaching natives, but this one was a long time coming, so I figured it was legitimate. I promise that next time I'll have gone sky diving or eaten the world's hottest pepper or maybe even a more culturally relevant activity.
Saturday, February 25, 2012
Small wonders
1. The big burly African French man who pushes his twin daughters in a stroller every morning and evening all the while singing to them in French
2. The vendors at the market under the aqueduct who are willing to teach me about every French food under the sun and give me tastes of everything.
3. How it can rainy and cloudy in all of France except for the small strip in the South where Montpellier is (a little bit like this).
4. Beret-clad, French elderly couples holding hands.
5. That, with the important exception of milk, nearly everything tastes better in France (case in point: for the first time in my life, I like mushrooms).
6. When tram operators and bus drivers are truly kind and wait longer than they should so that someone can make the tram/bus.
7. The way the town smells like fresh bread and coffee in the morning as the cafés and boulangeries open their doors.
8. Jazz flute and upright bass duets on la Rue de la loge
9. Hearing the person who lives above me play the piano every day when they get home from work.
10. Realizing that there are some things that are impossible to translate.
2. The vendors at the market under the aqueduct who are willing to teach me about every French food under the sun and give me tastes of everything.
3. How it can rainy and cloudy in all of France except for the small strip in the South where Montpellier is (a little bit like this).
4. Beret-clad, French elderly couples holding hands.
5. That, with the important exception of milk, nearly everything tastes better in France (case in point: for the first time in my life, I like mushrooms).
6. When tram operators and bus drivers are truly kind and wait longer than they should so that someone can make the tram/bus.
7. The way the town smells like fresh bread and coffee in the morning as the cafés and boulangeries open their doors.
8. Jazz flute and upright bass duets on la Rue de la loge
9. Hearing the person who lives above me play the piano every day when they get home from work.
10. Realizing that there are some things that are impossible to translate.
Tuesday, February 21, 2012
My week in Provence
Okay, so basically I've been procrastinating with a blog post because I have no idea where to begin. Should I talk about fears? Funny stories? Life changing moments? My many firsts? A blow-by-blow account of the whole trip?
I've decided to share with you some of the biggest lessons I've pulled away from my first solo (as in without the company or planning of any "adults") journey in Europe (or anywhere for that matter).
1. I'm going to get the mushy gushy things out of the way and send a huge shout out to my travel buddies. I think we got each other through a lot of sticky situations, made each other laugh, and just soaked up everything good about France together.
Lesson # 1: Things definitely don't go as planned, but you just have to rant about it, laugh about it, and push through.
2. I feel like all of my senses came alive for the first time on this trip. My nose detected the scent of blackberry in red wine and the hints of jasmine from the perfume capital of the world (Grasse, France). My ears delighted the sound the Mediterranean waves make as they pull back against the rocky beach--like the crackling of fireworks or the popping of a campfire. My tongue swam around in all sorts of wine as I went on my first vineyard tour and lavished in the sweet and savory specialties that I explored. My skin rejoiced in the French sunlight, the smooth pebbles that cover the beach in Nice and Eze-sur-mer, and the salty feeling of sea water as it dries and mixes with your sweat as you hike back from the sea into the mountains. Sight is the only sense with which I can indulge you:
Lesson #2: Appreciate every taste and sense and smell. Think about all of the work and passion that is behind a bottle of wine or perfume, a piece of chocolate, a silken scarf. Appreciate the God-created world around you.
3. This trip also just reminded me how important it is to enjoy life. I have a tendency to get caught up in checklists and deadlines, but I am making so many efforts in France to savor the world around me (see lesson #2). One thing I'm realizing is that God doesn't just give us the bare minimum, he provides for us in abundance. I have an abundance of love, laughter, and joy in my life, and I praise God for it every day!
Lesson #3: Live your life. Love your life.
PS) If you'd like a blow-by-blow account of my trip, try looking at the blogs of my other friends. I thought I would use this space to reflect on the bigger picture of my trip (because, of course, I took copious notes in my journal each day). Maggie and Michelle had pretty detailed accounts (note: Michelle's name has two links associated with it). We didn't do all of the same things, but still shared a lot of experiences!
PPS) Also, one of my friends wrote an article for her university's newspaper about carnaval!
I've decided to share with you some of the biggest lessons I've pulled away from my first solo (as in without the company or planning of any "adults") journey in Europe (or anywhere for that matter).
1. I'm going to get the mushy gushy things out of the way and send a huge shout out to my travel buddies. I think we got each other through a lot of sticky situations, made each other laugh, and just soaked up everything good about France together.
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| Our first day in Avignon was miserably cold and windy, but that didn't stop us from profiting from the city! Two thumbs up for positivity. (Avignon, France) |
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| Missing your train and having to pay out the ear for a slower, later train is pretty sucky. But here we are with smiles on our faces! (Marseille, France) |
2. I feel like all of my senses came alive for the first time on this trip. My nose detected the scent of blackberry in red wine and the hints of jasmine from the perfume capital of the world (Grasse, France). My ears delighted the sound the Mediterranean waves make as they pull back against the rocky beach--like the crackling of fireworks or the popping of a campfire. My tongue swam around in all sorts of wine as I went on my first vineyard tour and lavished in the sweet and savory specialties that I explored. My skin rejoiced in the French sunlight, the smooth pebbles that cover the beach in Nice and Eze-sur-mer, and the salty feeling of sea water as it dries and mixes with your sweat as you hike back from the sea into the mountains. Sight is the only sense with which I can indulge you:
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| Une papaline (like "pape" the French word for Pope), the candy of Avignon. It is a ball of chocolate with Oregano liquor on the inside. (Avignon, France) |
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| Enjoying a glass of rosé in the town where it was first made in France (Tavel, France) |
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| Orange trees at the International Museum of Perfume (Grasse, France) |
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| The beach on a peaceful, mid-morning walk (Nice, France) |
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| Bouquets of Lavender, a flower associated with Provence, at the largest Fruit and Flower market in France (Nice, France) |
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| Some incredibly fresh fish at the Fruit and Flower Market (Nice, France) |
Lesson #2: Appreciate every taste and sense and smell. Think about all of the work and passion that is behind a bottle of wine or perfume, a piece of chocolate, a silken scarf. Appreciate the God-created world around you.
3. This trip also just reminded me how important it is to enjoy life. I have a tendency to get caught up in checklists and deadlines, but I am making so many efforts in France to savor the world around me (see lesson #2). One thing I'm realizing is that God doesn't just give us the bare minimum, he provides for us in abundance. I have an abundance of love, laughter, and joy in my life, and I praise God for it every day!
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| Dancing on le Pont d'Avignon (Avignon, France) |
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| Goofing around at the TGV station (Avignon, France) |
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| Candid shot of some French people shooting us with silly string as we were taking a picture (Carnaval @ Nice, France) |
Lesson #3: Live your life. Love your life.
PS) If you'd like a blow-by-blow account of my trip, try looking at the blogs of my other friends. I thought I would use this space to reflect on the bigger picture of my trip (because, of course, I took copious notes in my journal each day). Maggie and Michelle had pretty detailed accounts (note: Michelle's name has two links associated with it). We didn't do all of the same things, but still shared a lot of experiences!
PPS) Also, one of my friends wrote an article for her university's newspaper about carnaval!
Sunday, February 19, 2012
My breath has been taken
I just got back from my wonderful adventures in Provence and the Cote D'azur. Let me just say:
It is a miracle that I came back.
I've never been anywhere so beautiful and breathtaking in my entire life except for the Sonoran desert (I'm not sure why, but I get weak-kneed over the silhouettes of friendly saguaros waving hello)... but these two places rank number one right now.
I am currently missing half of my pictures because I had to transfer them off of my memory card onto a friend's computer because I used my entire memory card. I've never done that. Ever.
I promise that in the coming days I will share stories and pictures (especially of my gastronomic adventures in which a certain uncle has expressed interest), but honestly, my expression via internet is just never going to do it justice. Hang around me to see the twinkle in my eye when I talk about it (because I'm sure that I'm going to absolutely BORE people to death with "this one time, I was in Provence and..." stories); that might help. But if you ever get the opportunity, don't hesitate to find yourself perched on the edge of the French mountain side overlooking the Mediterranean Sea.
You'll never be able to get your breath back.
PS) My French Bucket List is growing, but also becoming more complete!
It is a miracle that I came back.
I've never been anywhere so beautiful and breathtaking in my entire life except for the Sonoran desert (I'm not sure why, but I get weak-kneed over the silhouettes of friendly saguaros waving hello)... but these two places rank number one right now.
I am currently missing half of my pictures because I had to transfer them off of my memory card onto a friend's computer because I used my entire memory card. I've never done that. Ever.
I promise that in the coming days I will share stories and pictures (especially of my gastronomic adventures in which a certain uncle has expressed interest), but honestly, my expression via internet is just never going to do it justice. Hang around me to see the twinkle in my eye when I talk about it (because I'm sure that I'm going to absolutely BORE people to death with "this one time, I was in Provence and..." stories); that might help. But if you ever get the opportunity, don't hesitate to find yourself perched on the edge of the French mountain side overlooking the Mediterranean Sea.
You'll never be able to get your breath back.
PS) My French Bucket List is growing, but also becoming more complete!
Sunday, February 12, 2012
Les hommes français
Another day without a specific fear about which to talk. I will give you a fun list at the end, though!
This morning when I woke up, j'avais mal à la gorge. Actually, j'ai fait une nuit blanche because of it. I'm hoping that it's just because of the dry and the cold (seriously, didn't I leave the American midwest?). Fortunately, I thought ahead and packed American medication with me so I didn't have to brave la pharmacie and try to figure out the difference between cold medicine and laxatives (this is the worst case scenario I could think of) because EVERYTHING is different. I did wake up early go to to le supermarché which is only open for about three hours in the morning on Sunday (because it's France, and only the Arab épiceries and a few select cafés are open on Sundays). I got some tea, grapefruit juice, tissue packets, and ricola cough drops which were interestingly enough located in the candy aisle. Fortunately for me, cough drops aren't considered to be a type of medicinal product and therefore ARE available for purchase in the super market.
Today will be a lazy homework/packing/recuperating day before my adventures! Tomorrow I leave for Avignon, Nice, and a couple of little villages in the South of France. I'm hoping to escape le froid (it's supposed to be 50 degrees in Nice, I can't wait!), tour a vineyard (I'll take lots of notes, Uncle Tom), visit the parfumeries, socialize in what I've gathered is one of the best hostels in all of France, and celebrate French carnaval! I'm sure I'll have a lot to recount when I get back, but until then:
This morning when I woke up, j'avais mal à la gorge. Actually, j'ai fait une nuit blanche because of it. I'm hoping that it's just because of the dry and the cold (seriously, didn't I leave the American midwest?). Fortunately, I thought ahead and packed American medication with me so I didn't have to brave la pharmacie and try to figure out the difference between cold medicine and laxatives (this is the worst case scenario I could think of) because EVERYTHING is different. I did wake up early go to to le supermarché which is only open for about three hours in the morning on Sunday (because it's France, and only the Arab épiceries and a few select cafés are open on Sundays). I got some tea, grapefruit juice, tissue packets, and ricola cough drops which were interestingly enough located in the candy aisle. Fortunately for me, cough drops aren't considered to be a type of medicinal product and therefore ARE available for purchase in the super market.
Today will be a lazy homework/packing/recuperating day before my adventures! Tomorrow I leave for Avignon, Nice, and a couple of little villages in the South of France. I'm hoping to escape le froid (it's supposed to be 50 degrees in Nice, I can't wait!), tour a vineyard (I'll take lots of notes, Uncle Tom), visit the parfumeries, socialize in what I've gathered is one of the best hostels in all of France, and celebrate French carnaval! I'm sure I'll have a lot to recount when I get back, but until then:
The Types of Men I've Encountered in France
*Just as a little explanation, I feel like women keep to themselves far more than men do, so overall I've had more encounters with men*
- The men who yell "courage!" at me when I run: Running is far scarcer in France than in the US, and the French people seem to be a little puzzled/impressed by people who run. I'm not complaining, though, because it makes me feel like I have my own personal cheer leaders...
- The kindly old man: Whether it was a priest helping me to get involved with the church group or a patron at the library allowing me to use his card to make a copy of a magazine article, I have been the beneficiary of random acts of kidness.
- The drunken baffoons: I can't say that I've had a ton of encounters with this back in the US, so I can't say if it's better or worse here, but I have felt somewhat uncomfortable walking home at night (early, like between 11:30 and 12:30). It's not just cat calls, it's getting up in my personal space and forcing me to walk through/around them. I've never felt unsafe because there are always a lot of other people around, but it is a little unnerving.
- Les Sans Domicile Fixes: They all seem to have dogs and hang out by the tram stations and the carousel in the center square.
- The super nice church-goers: Other than my three male professors, these are the only ones that I've had any real contact with. Everyone, male and female, that I've met there has proved to me that we're not so different after all :)
Friday, February 10, 2012
You've got "une amie" in me
Alright, I've been remiss. Tuesday and Wednesday were uneventful and then Thursday was jam packed:
Fear has not really been an issue in my life this week, so instead I'll give you five reasons why having a French friends is awesome.
- 3h00: Wake up in a groggy haze, feeling like death to watch the UNC-d00k game
- 4h30: Feeling good about our performance after halftime
- 5h15: Go to back to bed mildly depressed
- 8h30: Wake up and kick box
- 10h30: Leave the house to head over to Lycée Jules Guesde (that middle s is silent... weird) to volunteer
- 15h15: Class
- 18h30: Leave the house to go to La Source (my worship group)
- 23h30: Get home, collapse in bed
Fear has not really been an issue in my life this week, so instead I'll give you five reasons why having a French friends is awesome.
- An opportunity to parler en français!
- If someone uses a word I don't understand, I can ask for an explanation
- An opportunity to practice bises (I really hope I am getting less awkward at it...)
- They can introduce me to more French people and French things!
- They really make me want to get better at French so I can talk more with them!
Monday, February 6, 2012
A little more conversation
Peur du jour- 6 Fevrier 2012: Discussion group at a café
Okay, so lately I've been feeling dishonest about my "peurs" because they haven't really been things that scare me like I was scared in the beginning. I'm realizing that this is probably because I am settling into my comfort zone (and it's not that I'm not putting myself out there, it just doesn't terrify me to speak to people in French anymore). I think this is good on all fronts.
But today I went to a conversation hour at a bookshop/café here to speak French! It was a great way to practice and meet some new people. In fact, I actually met someone from Morocco who made me feel like I should really seize the opportunity to travel there this semester. I now have confirmation that I can get around speaking French in Morocco (because, honestly, I wasn't sure if it was a "second language" that was really just the language of the government) because it's the language everyone speaks in school. He also confirmed that the political climate there is much calmer than that of the rest of the "Arab Spring" nations. It's always good to know that your life dreams are accessible.
It was also a great lesson in cultural diversity/similarity. It was interesting to talk with a native Frenchman about politics in France and politics in America. It was interesting to hear the Moroccan say that he also thought French people were more reserved and private than Moroccans and Americans(he's actually been to the US- Marshalltown, Iowa of all places, Katie!). It was interesting to try to explain the Greek system and my shallow involvement in it, the different levels of college sports, and just how much more expensive American colleges are than most other colleges in the world.
But we also noted how similar we all actually are. We think it's dommage that the media and society in general do a pretty good job of convincing us that we're all so different from each other. Surely, there are differences, but when it comes down to it, we can all find enough similarities among strangers to talk nonstop for two hours.
Okay, so lately I've been feeling dishonest about my "peurs" because they haven't really been things that scare me like I was scared in the beginning. I'm realizing that this is probably because I am settling into my comfort zone (and it's not that I'm not putting myself out there, it just doesn't terrify me to speak to people in French anymore). I think this is good on all fronts.
But today I went to a conversation hour at a bookshop/café here to speak French! It was a great way to practice and meet some new people. In fact, I actually met someone from Morocco who made me feel like I should really seize the opportunity to travel there this semester. I now have confirmation that I can get around speaking French in Morocco (because, honestly, I wasn't sure if it was a "second language" that was really just the language of the government) because it's the language everyone speaks in school. He also confirmed that the political climate there is much calmer than that of the rest of the "Arab Spring" nations. It's always good to know that your life dreams are accessible.
It was also a great lesson in cultural diversity/similarity. It was interesting to talk with a native Frenchman about politics in France and politics in America. It was interesting to hear the Moroccan say that he also thought French people were more reserved and private than Moroccans and Americans(he's actually been to the US- Marshalltown, Iowa of all places, Katie!). It was interesting to try to explain the Greek system and my shallow involvement in it, the different levels of college sports, and just how much more expensive American colleges are than most other colleges in the world.
But we also noted how similar we all actually are. We think it's dommage that the media and society in general do a pretty good job of convincing us that we're all so different from each other. Surely, there are differences, but when it comes down to it, we can all find enough similarities among strangers to talk nonstop for two hours.
Sunday, February 5, 2012
Ice, ice, baby
Peur du jour- 5 Fevrier 2012: Skating up and down hill
Not terribly terrifying, but I did think twice before I decided to do it.
I went to a patinoire (ice rink) today in Montpellier and it's basically a boite on glace (a club on ice)! I've never seen a rink with a DJ, disco balls, strobe lights, colored lights, fog machine, and two circle rinks meant specifically for dance-skating. There was also a hill (so that you could speed through a tunnel peppered with colored lights really fast).
It would have been more fun without the hoards of kids that I was worried about running over, but all in all it was a very fun way to spend a Sunday afternoon.
Not terribly terrifying, but I did think twice before I decided to do it.
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| Photo Credit: Beth Moroney |
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| Photo Credit: Beth Moroney |
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| Photo Credit: Beth Moroney |
It would have been more fun without the hoards of kids that I was worried about running over, but all in all it was a very fun way to spend a Sunday afternoon.
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| Photo Credit: Beth Moroney |
Saturday, February 4, 2012
She bangs, she moves
Peur du jour- 4 Fevrier 2012: Self-Bang Trim
Short and sweet: today, despite reservations about messing up and walking around like a goof for a few weeks, I trimmed my bangs.
I am quite pleased!
Before:
After:
Naw, just kidding:
I should get a job application, or something.
Short and sweet: today, despite reservations about messing up and walking around like a goof for a few weeks, I trimmed my bangs.
I am quite pleased!
Before:
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| http://www.zigoti.com/2011/06/wear-bangs-growing/ |
Naw, just kidding:
I should get a job application, or something.
Thursday, February 2, 2012
Chandaleur
Peur du jour- 2 fevrier 2012- Speaking up
So yesterday was a low point. And today was a high point!
Beth and I went to the student mass at the Catholic church near UPV. It was wonderful! Today is the Presentation of Jesus at the Temple and is a holiday known as Chandaleur in France. Most of the secular French celebrate la fête des crêpes by eating lots and lots of crêpes. At the Catholic mass, we did it a little bit differently (but don't worry, I still ate three crêpes for dinner).
The evening started with a wonderful candle light procession outside. It was pretty cold (side note: it snowed again today :), but very moving and meaningful. Then we had mass and a period of meditation before heading to a rec-room in a different building to have discussion in small groups. During the small groups was where I had my peur du jour moment. We were talking about some pretty intimate faith life things and I wanted to say something but my language-apprehension was holding me back. And then I just blurted it out and gave away our American-ness (which was a GOOD thing because after small group several people asked us where we were from).
Dinner was my favorite part because it's where we met so many wonderful people of all ages. Beth and I sat down next to some people that we thought looked friendly and, not that I'm counting my chickens, but I think we made some pretty awesome friends tonight (two of whom are English majors and speak English SO very well). We laughed at jokes in both languages and ate soup and loaded crepes with nutella and drank cider and had a jolly good time. I can't wait to go back.
Bottom line: Good things are worth speaking up for. Good things are worth waiting for. Good things are truly a gift from God.
So yesterday was a low point. And today was a high point!
Beth and I went to the student mass at the Catholic church near UPV. It was wonderful! Today is the Presentation of Jesus at the Temple and is a holiday known as Chandaleur in France. Most of the secular French celebrate la fête des crêpes by eating lots and lots of crêpes. At the Catholic mass, we did it a little bit differently (but don't worry, I still ate three crêpes for dinner).
The evening started with a wonderful candle light procession outside. It was pretty cold (side note: it snowed again today :), but very moving and meaningful. Then we had mass and a period of meditation before heading to a rec-room in a different building to have discussion in small groups. During the small groups was where I had my peur du jour moment. We were talking about some pretty intimate faith life things and I wanted to say something but my language-apprehension was holding me back. And then I just blurted it out and gave away our American-ness (which was a GOOD thing because after small group several people asked us where we were from).
Dinner was my favorite part because it's where we met so many wonderful people of all ages. Beth and I sat down next to some people that we thought looked friendly and, not that I'm counting my chickens, but I think we made some pretty awesome friends tonight (two of whom are English majors and speak English SO very well). We laughed at jokes in both languages and ate soup and loaded crepes with nutella and drank cider and had a jolly good time. I can't wait to go back.
Bottom line: Good things are worth speaking up for. Good things are worth waiting for. Good things are truly a gift from God.
Wednesday, February 1, 2012
Culture shock
Peur du jour- 1 fevrier 2012: Moving on
J'ai passé une matinée épouvantable.
Yesterday a delightful cold front came in. It brought rain, gray skies, and below freezing temperatures (it actually snowed yesterday). It's not that I don't like the cold (sometimes I really miss my midwestern winters when I'm in NC), it's just that I am not terribly prepared for it. I don't have a winter coat here because I didn't think it would be worth the space to bring it. None of the shoes that I would care to wear in public (not going to wear my slippers or my running shoes around France.. super tacky) are loose enough to permit me to wear thick socks. I left my heavy scarf, hat, and TOASTY mittens back home.
So okay, I'm cold when I'm in transit. Not a big deal. What is a bigger deal is that I'm cold inside too. My winter woes at home have been solved due to the slightly-embarassing-but-very-toasty-so-I-don't-really-care snuggy that my mom sent me (the best part of my day is when I wrap myself up in it like a burrito before I snuggle into bed). Today I learned that French classrooms can be just as freezing as French homes. Trying to pay attention in class is really hard when your toes are going/have gone numb.
Paying attention in class is also really hard when the people behind you won't stop whispering about the cross word they are doing, rustling through some sort of plastic bag, and laughing at the conversation they are having. This professor is already hard enough to follow: he doesn't talk slowly enough to allow for note taking, he doesn't write anything on the board, and he frequently spirals into anecdotal tangents which may or may not be important (not to mention it's in French...). The last thing I need is noise from the peanut gallery.
What's more frustrating is that this is part of the culture here. I'm not even sure if it's considered disrespectful. The professor doesn't seem to care and doesn't say anything about it (not even a dirty look!) during the two hour class period (yeah, two hours). This means that I can't say anything about it. It is honestly one of the most frustrating things I have had to deal in the 14.5 years I've been in school.
So I leave class and I'm kind of ticked off. And it's still cold and the tram is PACKED and I'm tired of smelling body odor and I'm more sick of being harangued in the street by people demanding that I give them money. When I get home, I still can't feel my toes so instead of going for a run, I just sit in my room with my feet (wrapped in three pairs of socks) on the luke-warm radiator feeling sorry for myself. I was in the hole.
And I clawed my way out. I got off my butt and braved the cold to go for a run. Exercise always makes me feel better (endorphins, music, feeling of accomplishment, warmth!). Each stride was me pulling away from my bad morning and running towards the hope that this class has to get better.
I've decided that culture shock is just like a big magnifying glass on my life. My highs are really high and my lows are pretty low. I've tried be fairly discrete about them and focus on the highs thus far, but the lows are just as big a part of me discovering the culture here. The thing I've resolved to do is to move on and keep pushing forward. There is something that God wants me to learn from my low points, my frustrating mornings, and my bouts of homesickness. Nothing under His control is out of control.
J'ai passé une matinée épouvantable.
Yesterday a delightful cold front came in. It brought rain, gray skies, and below freezing temperatures (it actually snowed yesterday). It's not that I don't like the cold (sometimes I really miss my midwestern winters when I'm in NC), it's just that I am not terribly prepared for it. I don't have a winter coat here because I didn't think it would be worth the space to bring it. None of the shoes that I would care to wear in public (not going to wear my slippers or my running shoes around France.. super tacky) are loose enough to permit me to wear thick socks. I left my heavy scarf, hat, and TOASTY mittens back home.
So okay, I'm cold when I'm in transit. Not a big deal. What is a bigger deal is that I'm cold inside too. My winter woes at home have been solved due to the slightly-embarassing-but-very-toasty-so-I-don't-really-care snuggy that my mom sent me (the best part of my day is when I wrap myself up in it like a burrito before I snuggle into bed). Today I learned that French classrooms can be just as freezing as French homes. Trying to pay attention in class is really hard when your toes are going/have gone numb.
Paying attention in class is also really hard when the people behind you won't stop whispering about the cross word they are doing, rustling through some sort of plastic bag, and laughing at the conversation they are having. This professor is already hard enough to follow: he doesn't talk slowly enough to allow for note taking, he doesn't write anything on the board, and he frequently spirals into anecdotal tangents which may or may not be important (not to mention it's in French...). The last thing I need is noise from the peanut gallery.
What's more frustrating is that this is part of the culture here. I'm not even sure if it's considered disrespectful. The professor doesn't seem to care and doesn't say anything about it (not even a dirty look!) during the two hour class period (yeah, two hours). This means that I can't say anything about it. It is honestly one of the most frustrating things I have had to deal in the 14.5 years I've been in school.
So I leave class and I'm kind of ticked off. And it's still cold and the tram is PACKED and I'm tired of smelling body odor and I'm more sick of being harangued in the street by people demanding that I give them money. When I get home, I still can't feel my toes so instead of going for a run, I just sit in my room with my feet (wrapped in three pairs of socks) on the luke-warm radiator feeling sorry for myself. I was in the hole.
And I clawed my way out. I got off my butt and braved the cold to go for a run. Exercise always makes me feel better (endorphins, music, feeling of accomplishment, warmth!). Each stride was me pulling away from my bad morning and running towards the hope that this class has to get better.
I've decided that culture shock is just like a big magnifying glass on my life. My highs are really high and my lows are pretty low. I've tried be fairly discrete about them and focus on the highs thus far, but the lows are just as big a part of me discovering the culture here. The thing I've resolved to do is to move on and keep pushing forward. There is something that God wants me to learn from my low points, my frustrating mornings, and my bouts of homesickness. Nothing under His control is out of control.
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