Belle Bordeaux!

Friday morning, having passed a terribly exciting two days enjoying Hanna's apartment (her family was away), full of wine drinking, pasta cooking, dancing, walking around in pj's, watching HSM3 and doing everything else silly and feminine, I departed for Bordeaux to meet Jonathan!

My train ride, which I'd actually been looking forward to, turned out to be a bit of a bust: the train was full, the seats were a bit cramped compared to other trains I've been on, and there was a very angry and exhausted mother in front of me with her twin three-year-old sons, who both screamed, kicked, whined, and jostled the entire four hours. I got to hear them being smacked more than once. It was not too pleasant.

Then I arrived! Quite excited to see Jonathan - we figured out it had been a month since we'd last seen each other. Quelle horreur! But really what better place than Bordeaux to meet up with one's boyfriend?!

Bordeaux was immediately impressive. It has a very pretty and large train station, complete with a tall glass ceiling and lots of pigeons flying around inside. Jonathan and I set about to finding our hotel; we ended up walking there, so we got to see some interesting parts of the city from the beginning, passing through the St. Michel neighborhood.

Finally finding our hotel about two or three miles later, both carrying heavy back packs, we came to find the hotel reception closed until 5. Both tired from the walk, we waited at a near by cafe, where I had some good espresso and Jonathan tried his first ever Orangina!

Walking back to the hotel at 5, we found it was still closed. The French! There was a phone number left on the front door to be used in case of an urgent situation, but I really didn't want to call it: speaking in French is hard enough, but speaking in French over the phone is next to impossible for me!

Fortunately, a group of French women showed up to check in five minutes or so after we did (at around 5:20, now). They straight away called the manager on his cell phone, he biked over, checked us in, everything was fine.

So.

Jonathan and I explored. A few blocks from our hotel was the Monument des Girondins. It is truly magnificent - very beautiful and whimsical in a way - the horses have serpent tails rather than hind legs and conch shells for hooves. Wonderful.

Then we walked along the river, saw the Pont Neuf, the Place de Palais, and finally found a nice neighborhood with lots of restauraunts where we found a good creperie. Jonathan ordered his first meal crepe: ham and cheese, and we split some cider. Afterwards, walked around the city a bit more, had some gelatto, split a bottle of pink, Bordeaux wine to celebrate his impending 21st birthday.

Next day, continued to explore the city. Split a giant pain au chocolat for breakfast: delicious! Saw the Grand Theater of Bordeaux, stumbled upon a market day taking place in the shadow of the Basilica of St. Michel, found a very small church: L'eglise d'Eloi, tucked in between several buildings but very large and ornate and crooked on the inside. Saw the Hotel de Ville, tried to go inside the Cathedral only to disappointedly learn that it was closed all weekend to visitors because it was a religious holiday, full of babtisms, special services and weddings.

Found a Carrefour and bought supplies to make a wonderful lunch: salami, baguette, creme-brulee au caramel, and goutta cheese. Topped off with some Apricot juice. Very delicious.

Then we continued our expedition!

Saw a very, very beautiful church in la Place des Martyrs de la Revolution: L'eglise Saint Seurin. And stopped in another, L'eglise Saint Ferdinand, on our way to the Public Gardens.

In the Public Gardens, we found lots of couples making out passionately everywhere and in everywhich way. On top of one another in the grass, straddling eachother on benches. Seriously, it was unbelievable.

The gardens were very pretty, lots of flowers and greenery and ducks and geese and dogs and children playing. We stopped at the garden cafe, L'Orangerie, for some water and coffee.

Wandered aimlessly a bit.

Then headed out to find a good pizzaria. Found one, although the pizza Jonathan ordered was unfortunatley a little dry - shame, because typically French pizza is a thousand times bettter than American pizza. I had pasta though and it was excellent. Walked around a bit more, etc.

Next morning, headed to the train station to purchase Jonathan's return ticket. Disaster! The train he had planned on taking at 8pm was full, and so he had to buy a ticket for the 4:30 instead. I really did cry a little, which was stupid, but I was sad to cut our weekend short! I found an earlier ticket, which was good and meant I wouldn't have to wait around alone three extra hours and would arrive in Nantes at a safe 9pm instead of a sketchy 11pm.

That resolved, we headed out again. Bought a nice lunch; Jonathan had his first sandwich au jambon et beurre, along with some pain au chocolat and an orangina. I had my first ever croque-monsieur, and it was terrific. We ate it in small park that we found near by, accompanied by some adorable birds who ate our crumbs and the far off banter of homeless people.

Walked towards the Basilica of St. Michel. Were accosted by homeless people, who tried to confront Jonathan for some reason or another. When he didn't respond, one yelled, "Hey asshole! Do you speak French or not?" with the implied answer being that Jonathan did speak French but refused to speak - funny becasue he doesn't speak French.

Anyway.

Visited the Basilica of St. Michel. Very beautiful.

Headed to the train station. I cried a little, which is stupid because we're currently in the process of planning a trip to St. Sebastian, Spain in two weeks, which will be wonderful!

The train ride home was a bit of an adventure: the man sitting across from me, who would not stop staring at me even if I cought him staring at me, only smile creepily, unbottuned his shirt the instant he sat down, revealing a tattooed chest that he continued to scratch for the duration of the four hours.He looked very, very, frightening. A bit alarming, but there was a very friendly looking couple in the compartment with me, I didn't feel too unsafe, just bothered, and I still got to look out the window at the French country side - which was very lovely.

All in all, an blissful weekend! So crazy that I can take a weekend in Bordeaux! With my boyfriend! Love it!

Another day at the Faculté de Nantes...

I didn't take this picture, just found it online. It was already labled: 'Ugly Nantes' but really I think it is far more attractive than the University really is, if you can believe it.

Today I went to the University for my class on Poe and other writers of strange literature. I am currently concerned that I might not get to take this class, despite the fact that it's perfect for me and my schedule, because there are currently 7 IES students in the class (the cap typically being no more than 5 per University class). I am trying not to worry about it, and plan on talking to my IES Registrar as soon as she is available.

The class was very interesting today, and I think if I am allowed to continue taking it, it will prove wonderful.

I still, however, cannot help getting frustrated everytime I go to the University. The American and French education systems could not be more different, and I have found no where a more blatant difference between French and American (or at least, Nantaise and Sewanee) mentalities than the University cafeteria.

I will explain.

My classroom was built to contain around 50 students. Because there are no registration limits at the University, we had around 56 or so, all of whom had to go find chairs elsewhere or sit on the floor. The professor spoke quietly and quickly, and while I could understand him much better than the previous class I took at the University, I was really surprised by how many students talked while he spoke. It was frustrating to the extreme, though he didn't seem too dismayed and spoke over them as best he could.

I find the education system in France a bit bizarr: students pick a study upon entering their first year and take classes only within that discipline. So if I were a French student, I would have started at the university, chosen to study literature and then taken only literature courses for the remainder of the four years or so I attended. I would not, as was the case in reality, been able to take lots of fascinating classes outside my major (and how sad that would have been! three of my favorite classes at Sewanee have been Fairy Tales, a German class, and Geology and Biology - none of which apply to either of my majors!)

Additionally, while the University is practically free for all students (around 300 dollars a year) and has a 100% acceptance and admittance rate, more than half of the students do not pass their first year! That's an absurd amount of students.

BUT what I dislike the most is the cafeteria, where I ate lunch today. Granted, at Sewanee I'm accustomed to a cafeteria that more closesly resembles a cathedral it's so grand; still, I found today quite schocking. In order to get food, students swarm around the cafeteria in a fashion entirely befitting a mob. Hanna, Olivia and I waited in said hoard for around 15 minutes today, being pushed and prodded this way and that, with the crowd fifteen-thirty people thick to the left or right and extending thirty feet or so in front and behind. It was crazy! I've heard they don't make lines in France, but really? I started feeling extremely light headed and cloistrophobic, especially when I finally made it to the stairwell leading to the cafeteria which was jam packed and at a stand still and dark and too too cramped.

Nothing could be farther from Sewanee.

But, depite the fact that this entry feels a bit like a rant, I will say that the University is the only place I feel indignant or disapointed or anything, and that I am going to try and divine the merits of this system as well.

Brief thoughts before starting my homework... (A more introverted entry, désolée!)

Today, somehow, feels like my first day of class. Perhaps because it was so exhausting, perhaps because I am just now coming to realize that, unfortunately, I will have to work and study in France, and not just get to explore and travel all of the time.

I had my first class of Translation, which was at the University of Nantes. Still unaccustomed to being in large, rather ugly class rooms. However, I think I will love my Translation class, and I think it will be an excellent supplement to the Grammar Class I am opting not to take, as it will require a high understanding of tenses and proper grammar. I think it will also be excellent for getting to meet French students; the class is about half French students and half American IES students; half of our translations will be from French into English (which will be easier for the Anglophones), and half will be from English into French (which will be easier for the Francophones). The professor said that this ought to encourage a lot of discussion between the two student groups about idiomatic expressions, colloquialisms, etc. So! I am excited about that!

I did finally learn today that all of my grades will transfer and count towards my GPA. This comes as a bit of a surprise, as Sewanee does not usually accept grades from most study abroad programs, and I was hoping that IES would not be the exception.

I have developed a real problem about caring too much about my GPA. It started my Junior or Senior year of high school, and in college it has only gotten worse. I presently become seriously, seriously upset if I get anything below what I consider my best.

It is a very American problem I am told, as most students at French Universities are not as concerned with their grade and French professors are always shocked by how concerned American students are about the subject. Perhaps for this semester I could adopt a more European attitude on the subject? Relax a little and not concern myself with whether or not I receive a B+ rather than an A-??

But I think I know myself too well to think that's really a possibility, and so today came the realization that for the next three months, I will, in fact, be spending many hours reading, many hours writing papers, and many hours studying. Dommage! But I know I will likely enjoy all of it, as I am extremely enthusiastic about school work and all things academic and truly enjoy learning.

It's just that I am somewhat less enthusiastic about academics than I am about exploring Europe.

Miscellaneous adventures: the suburbs, the Musee des Beaux Arts, continued enjoyment of the Bouffay Quarter, etc...

It is amazing to me how jam-packed every day becomes here!

Friday, after Hanna got out of class, we decided to go explore a shopping mall that is situated on the outskirts of Nantes. Now - before anyone accuses me of wasting a second of my precious time in France on a shopping mall - let it be known that we knew this would give us a chance to see more of the city, and these past few weeks I have been on a present hunt for Jonathan and my mother's birthdays and thought a European mall would be an interesting (though, as it turned out, fruitless) place to search.

The mall is at the very end of tram line 1 so in getting there we traveled out of the beautiful and charming Centre Ville, where we live, into the shockingly stark aesthetics of the suburbs. They are full of mid-rise apartment buildings - plain windows, drab colors, clothes drying on the balconies. It was a bit of a shock, how near these apartments were to us, but how they seemed much more befitting a third world country than the suburbs of an extremely romantic and beautiful French town.

The mall was not terribly different than an American mall, other than that the prices were higher and there were fewer bathrooms (this is a fact of Europe that I am gradually becoming accustomed to). In the mall, we found a store that was very similar to a Walmart: huge, expansive, encompasing all genres of products and cheap. This was good because I've been holding out on buying some essentials because I can't afford them in our neighborhood.

The thing that I will probably remember first and foremost about this little materialistic excursion however is that I saw, for the first time in my life, a woman wearing a burka. It was in the Walmart-esque store in the arts and crafts aisle. There was a baby sitting in her buggy and her husband was standing next to her, dressed completely normally, while she wore black from head to foot with only a thin strip missing for her black eyes. Her husband was looking at her and smiling as he spoke in Arabic and tried to decide between two types of markers or something trivial like that. Hanna and I walked by, both dressed adorably, of course, and I with a slight slight midrift, and I couldn't help but wondering if she hated me, for my freedom, or if her husband hated me, for my impudence, or if she was at peace with her situation and pitied me for my lack of understanding. Mostly though, I know she probably is envious of young girls who don't have babies and mean husbands who make them prisoners in burkas. And it really gave me the chils, walking past her, and I teared up a bit as I did so.

Anyway.

Then we took the tram back home, met up with our friend Horace Hobbs of Austin, Texas, for some crepes. They were magnificent! And I had the best cider I've ever had ever. Afterwards we walked around in a kind of wandering manner: to St. Clement, and past the art museum, past the carnival that is next to the Chateau. Then we went back to the Bouffay district, where we had a few drinks: I tried a white martini and did not much care for it. But there was very lovely ambience in the square: two men played Gypsy guitars and it was so terribly European and wonderful.

Then I had to use the restroom, couldn't find one because its France, finally found one in a McDonalds, and then GOT LOCKED IN THE BATHROOM AGAIN. That makes two Fridays in a row. And before anyone thinks its because I was inebriated or just stupid, I can promise that both have been totally legitamate and not my fault. The second time though, there was an Asian man who came out of the men's side of the restroom who was also locked in there with me. He freaked out, but now that I'm becoming accustomed to it, I very cooly said that we would get out and not to panic and then eventually the door, which was electronically operated by code only, decided to cooperate and let us out. It wasn't half as bad as the other time.

Saturday: Hanna and I walked to the Jardins des Plants and tried to take a tour of the Green House but we were there an hour before the first tour, so we opted instead to go to the Musee des Beaux Arts, which was right next door and had free admission. It is a very beautiful building, and had both an incredibly modern and intriguing exhibit by Ernesto Neto on the first floor (see below) and lots of old, beautiful and more traditioal permanent installments upstairs. So that was really wonderful.

Then Hanna and I tried to go find lunch, but forgot, as we have many days previously, that lots of French restauraunts close at 2 o'clock. Hence, instead of having a meal of oysters, which we had wanted, we had cold sandwhiches and oranginas from a street vendor. This was still very satisfying.

Then I went shopping for Jonathan's birthday present(s)!

For dinner, Hanna and I went in search of Le Petit Broccoli - a restauraunt in the Bouffay that our Sewanee French Professor, George Poe, recommended and sent us 20 euros each to enjoy. Sadly, it had closed, so Hanna and I went in search for an equally nice restaurant and found La Mangeoire near by, where they offer three course dinners for 17 euros. It was delicious and interesting, and Hanna and I had enough left over to split a half bottle of pink wine from the Loire Valley which was thouroughly satisfying.

Then we walked home and I spent the night in Hanna's room because my family is out of town for the weekend.

Brief thoughts:
1. French waiters are either very friendly and understanding that we speak slow and strangely - or - as was the case last night - they are snippy.

2. Despite the fact that I'm eating much richer food than I eat at home and am drinking far more alcohol (though I'm being VERY responsible and not at all excessive), I discovered yesterday that I have so far lost about two or three pounds. So Huzzah! I love how much I've been walking and I wish it was as easy to walk this much stateside.

3. Though it might seem that I am not economising, I am. I recently figured out that for my lunches throughout the week I am spending a paltry 1.90 euros a day, which is an entire euro less than the cafeteria (which I was told falsely would be the best deal.) For this 1.90 lunch, Hanna and I make a delicious spread of: salami and bri sandwhich on baguette, French yougurt of some sort (French yougurt is far tastier than American yougurt!!), delicous juice of varying types - this week was Pineapple Mango - and an orange. Balanced and delicious! Hanna and I, I can assert confidently, are spending far less than the average IES student, and have a policy of scrimping and saving on weekdays so we can relax and eat and drink what we please on the weekends. So far, this seems to be a good policy.

Notes on Living with the de Kermadec's

In the days leading up to my departure for France, the thing that terrified me the most was the thought of having to live with another family. I was worried about what my room would be like, how it would work sharing a bathroom with people I didn't know, and mostly how awkward I thought it would be to eat five nights a week with a family I'd never met before. I am easily stressed out by such things, even in America with people I know well, and so I feared I was going to have a relapse in chronic anxiety.

On the contrary, it has been such a wonderful experience thus far. The de Kermadec's are six in total: Arnaud and Clotilde, the parents, Alix and Eleanore, the daughters who are both away at different universities, and Amaury and Erwan, the two sons who both still live at home.

The boys are both extremely sweet. Erwan sings constantly; I told Clotilde that it made me feel more at home because my brother also sings constantly. I saw him naked running from the bathroom to his room within thirty minutes of being here the first day! (Though it has not happened since! What a funny way to begin, though.) Erwan is adorable in just about every way - he is ten years old but very, very polite and adult in many ways. His favorite thing to say to me is, "c'est comme tu veux" - "it's as you wish." He says this to me when his mother is offering me some really delicious food that he doesn't like (he's a picky eater) - "You're not obliged - it's entirely as you wish. You don't have to eat that!" but I always eat it and so far I have loved all the meals here. Tonight, for instance, we had a carrot soup that was served cold. It was very delicious with cumin and coconut milk in it. Yum.

Amaury is also very polite. He listens to loud rap music and occasionally tries to sing along which is terribly bad, funny, and endearing. He is very sweet to Erwan and his parents, and is always polite to me and invites me to hang out with him and his friends when they're here watching soccer games. (The boys both love soccer; when a match is on they scream for almost the entire game.)

Arnaud works a lot of the time and sometimes misses dinner, but when I am around him, he too is very sweet. He talks very quickly, so sometimes I have a real problem understanding him, but he more than anyone else enjoys throwing in English words to test out his abilities in the language. So that makes it a little easier, some of the time.

Clotilde is very sweet and worked hard to make me feel comfortable right from the beginning. She, like Erwan, is constantly tell me, "Comme tu veux." She insists on me eating breakfast in the morning, taking a snack with me if I'm going to be gone a long time, and she taught me how to use the world's coolest espresso machine which I am now slightly addicted to - though I, of course, politely restrain myself.

The apartment is very old and very loud. A door here cannot be shut quietly; ere go doors slam at all ours of the day and night. My bedroom is next to the laundry/bath room, and both the washing machine and the toilette make a lot of noise when used. The boys joke and yell; the parents have tiffs. It is seldom quiet, but I don't mind. It's also a bit strange for me living in an apartment building; outside is the constant noise of other residents coming and going - above is the noise of people walking or mounting the stairs.

Dinner always passes quickly. The French are very fast eaters, and we are normally finished with our entree and desert within a thirty minute period. Normally at dinner, there is quick banter between the family while I sit and try and figure out what they're saying. Sometimes they take the time to go back over everything that's being said; sometimes they get wrapped up in whatever they're discussing and become extremely animated and forget me; sometimes they direct the conversation my way and we all have to talk more slowly. I am constantly making grammatical mistakes, which Clotilde or, sometimes, Erwan(!) politely correct. I've grown more at ease about verifying as I speak, "'Je suis partie' ou 'j'ai parti?'" and they always seem so excited to help me learn.

Regardless, I always look forward to the meal. And I see that as a sign that I'm growing up a bit, and growing a bit more comfortable in my own skin.

Minor Blunders, a rainy day, etc.

And so today I woke up at 6am for my 8am class. Knowing it required two long walks and a tram, I left the house at around 7 after a very small breakfast and a brief brief chat with my parents(!). It was dark when I left the apartment, and still seemed night. There were very few people on the roads, and it was very strange and a bit eerie for me to see the streets of Nantes so empty. Most of the people out were big burly men working garbage trucks or other maintenance vehicles. The rest were all toting back packs, and so I assume, students at the university. Bleary eyed, like me, from want of sleep. I made my way to the tram station, hopped the number 2, which was surprisingly full of people considering how deserted the streets had been, and got off 7 or 8 stops later at the University.

The University of Nantes is attended by around 30,000 students. It is huge, ugly and modern. The buildings are all nearly identical, with graffiti all over the walls, ceilings, floors, desks, chairs, bathrooms, ATMs -- it is seriously everywhere. I eventually found my classroom (Amphitheater 4) after going in one wrong building and asking directions from one student and one employee.

My class room was huge. There were about fifteen long rows containing about thirty to forty-five chairs each in an arena type arrangement. I took my seat as close to an end as was possible but still felt claustrophobic. I chose Sewanee because I never wanted to be in classes like this - and yet here I was. The professor started speaking, and as I'd feared, I could hardly hear him at all because he was so far away and speaking a language I can only partially understand in the best conditions.

The class was on Sociology of Contemporary French Society. The professor started talking about European geography and history. He started drawing diagrams up on the board - a time line, first - but then a strange graph with words I didn't know and symbols I'd never seen. I couldn't even copy them down to look up later because the board was so far away that even with my glasses on I couldn't make out the letters. He rattled off a list of books we were expected to purchase and read - I couldn't hear him well enough to write down the titles or the authors.

Forty five minutes into class, I started jotting down my thoughts rather than notes. When at fifty five minutes into class we were given a five minute (smoke) break, I decided to cut my losses, grabbed my back pack and left the class - forever. In defense of my cowardice, one thing they always tell foreign exchange students is that if you cannot understand the professor, do not take the class. It typically does not get better, they say, or it takes so long for you to catch up that it does not matter.

So! Outside, I quickly went through the course offerings - found a class that suited me better and that conveniently another IES student, Olivia, was planning on attending: Comparative Literature - The literature of the strange at the end of the 19th century. Works included Edger Alan Poe - if you aren't aware - French people are obsessed with Poe, and I think that alone will make it an interesting class. Not to mention, literature classes are supposed to be easier for IES students to take, not to mention, the class will only have around 40 students instead of 400.

The class met at 10 - which meant I had around thirty minutes of free time. I called a friend from Sewanee, Elisa, who I knew was headed to the University as well for a different literature class; she was on her way and we arranged where we would meet up. And as I was waiting for her, Olivia walked up and we started talking.

Then we looked at the course offerings again, only to discover that all of the literature classes didn't start to next week. Bleh.

Walking home, it started to rain. The rainy weather that Nantes is (in)famous for. The air is chilly here and starting to feel very much like autumn; the leaves have just started to turn and I cannot wait! Mostly, I am glad that this morning that I'd dreaded is over. I took a tram by myself, in the dark. I went by myself to a huge university, failed miserably in my first ever French class, and everything is still okay! My schedule, by trial and error, is going to be far better than I'd hoped.

So, I am grateful.

My schedule, almost definitely, will be as follows:

Monday: 12:30-2:30 Translation (at the University) -- 3:00-4:15 French Poetry at the turn of the Century (at IES) -- 5:00-6:15 French Writers and Foreign Nations (IES)

Tuesday: 12:15-1:30 French Poetry -- 3:00-5:30 The Palestinian Question from 1945 to today (IES)

Wednesday: 10:00-12:00 Comparative Literature: Literature of the Strange (University) -- 5:30-6:45 French Writers (IES)

Thursday-Sunday: relax, do homework, travel

C'est parfait!!!

Vachement Chouette (and other things that defy translation)

'Vachement chouette' is a very prevalent French expression that when translated literally means "cool like a cow" or perhaps "cow cool." I suppose it is the French equivalent of "wicked sweet" or "sick" (as in when a tool says, "Listen to those sick beats" or something like that. I figured it is a fitting title to an entry on the many, many differences I've noticed (continued to notice) since I've been here.

I will break this down into two sections: Things about America I like Better than France and Things about France I like Better than America.

Things about America I like Better than France

1. I truly miss being friendly to strangers. I guess I hadn't ever thought about it previously but it seems ever since I took to walking Belmont for hours on end when I was around 13 or so with Mary and later Savannah and Carina, I adore smiling at people I meet and saying hello. It was one of the aspects I found so appealing about Sewanee - that they insisted that you greet passersby. It makes me feel that I am a part of a community that includes people I may not have ever met, and that there is an understanding between said people that we would help eachother out and love eachother if ever we got to know eachother well enough. Therefor, we treat eachother with civility (even friendliness!) wherever we go. At the grocery store, waiting in line at the movies, passing on the street, etc - Americans are friendly and kind to one another, at least generally speaking.

Here, the attitude seems more to be: "I don't know you, I probably wouldn't like you if I did know you and/or you wouldn't like me if you knew me. We are not part of the same community or group of friends. You are likely the enemy." People go to great lengths to avoid eye contact on the street. If a car stops to let a pedestrian pass, there will be no smile of gratitude passed between them. If you bump into someone, they will not say pardon and they will not respond if you do - in fact, the reason they probably bumped into you is because they were avoiding eye contact to begin with and had no clue you existed.

That being said, once you become acquainted with a French person, they are every bit as personable as Americans. But you have to meet them first.

2. There is a lack of fidelity in French relationships. I know this only second-hand of course, but I came across a French article recently all about what entailed infidelity. It polled young men and asked them, "Is a single kiss an infidelity? If not, what constitutes an infidelity in your relationship?" Responses varied a great deal, but the consensus seemed to be that most physical infidelities weren't too terrible and that everything would likely be forgiven, short of having a long-term dedicated and loving relationship with someone other than one's spouse/partner. Gross.

3. Men heckle women here. Men shout rude things to women, and women are supposed to ignore it entirely and look fierce and disdainful as they pass. It is not that this makes me feel unsafe - Nantes is a very safe town and everywhere I go I am typically in a mid to large group of students - however it is very rude and does make one feel super uncomfortable. I feel that the sisters, mothers and female friends of every young man should yell at them excessively about how stupid it is to do this. Until it stops getting to be so common. Double gross.

4. Here, bathrooms and toilettes are separate. I don't understand this. The toilette that I use is located in the laundry room. The bathroom is just down the hall. It is rather inconvenient.

5. I miss having a yard. A lot.

6. No one picks up after their dogs when they poop in the middle of the side walk, so you have to watch your feet when you walk.

7. In America, we disagree politely with one another. When someone does something wrong (faire une betise), people correct them politely and sweetly. Here - everyone is more frank. (! And now I'm wondering if that is where they word comes from. The Francs are franc!?)

Things about France I like Better than America

1. I love that families eat together every night. (I love that despite the fact that we're not European, my own dear sweet familys aux Etats-Unis has done this very well my entire life. It is something I will continue when I have a family of my own.)

2. I love that the French eat meals that are rediculously delicious and intricate but in smaller portions. Everything here comes in a smaller size than in America, and it is one of two reasons why I think the French are skinnier. If you ask for a glass of coke, you are definitely not given more than 8 ounces of coke. Same thing with all beverages. It has the marvelous effect of making you really contemplate everything as you're drinking/eating: I only get 5 ounces of coffee - I better really enjoy them.

3. I love that everything is walkable here.

4. I love how affectionate everyone is, especially noting how affectionate men are. At least once a day I see Amaury kiss his little brother Erwan all over his face for no reason in particular. It is very sweet and endearing, and I think it is wonderful. Again I must say though, I have been accustomed to this in my own family for forever. We have always been super affectionate, likely because of Mama. But I am so glad, and it is so refreshing to see an entire nation that embraces that sweetness. I think it is important, and I plan on instegating a lot more of that when I get home.

5. I like to "faire la bise." It is so very bizarr and wonderful to meet someone and have them affectionately kiss your cheek the first time you meet them. I also plan on doing this occasionally in America, and Hanna has agreed so LOOK OUT.

6. Art for art's sake and enjoyment for enjoyment's sake seem to both be more prominant here. I love all of the various festivals, art displays and street performances I have seen. It has to increase one's standard of living to be exposed to beautiful things and experiences wherever one goes. It has taught me already that it is NOT a lowly goal to be a writer or performer. Writing and performing music are both acts of beauty, if practiced correctly, and beauty is very important. I like that the Europeans embrace it - are American's too practical, too utilitarian for such ideals? I hope not.

7. In keeping with this, Europeans work to live - American's live to work. This is something that my mother told me she had observed in Europe and it is sooo true. Europeans take as much time off as they can and I support them whole heartedly. Yesterday Hanna and I went out in a mistaken attempt to buy school supplies only to find that all the stores were closed because it was Sunday. Wonderful! I don't think I will ever mind being inconvenienced so that people can have time off from their jobs. I think we should expect fewer hours from stores and restaurants in America and let people have more vacation time. The fact that the French economy is not suffering as much as the American economy is should speak to complaints that the French system is somehow incorrect. I hope the 40 hour work week of America ends!

8. In France, everything is more expensive, incuding utilities. Bon! I hate that in America we have a mistaken since that electricity is cheap merely because the electric companies are willing to sell it to us cheaply. Electricity takes a great toll on our environment, and the high cost of living here makes everyone live more within their means which equals more in keeping with the rate the earth can sustain us. Along these lines, I like that public transportation and walking are emphasized here.

9. I like that the drinking age is 18.

10. I like that couples are more affectionate publically. I plan on practicing this in two weeks!

BEST OF ALL - I love that in making my own life I can pick and choose. I can be friendly to strangers, pick up after my dog when she poops in the middle of the sidewalk, walk everywhere I go, eat small portions, faire la bise, kiss all of my family members an excessive amount, instigate affection wherever I go, have a yard, have a bathroom that includes a toilette, and more!

Vive l'indépendance! Je suis une citoyenne du monde!

In Nantes

Today was incredible! Woke up around 9 and lounged around til 10 am or so. Hanna and I went on a massive excursion to acquaint ourselves with our new town. We had a few spots pre-planned: the Chateau of the Dukes of Brittany, the Cathedral of Nantes, but there were so many lucky mishaps along the way!

We started off in the Centre Ville, which is where our apartments are located. We are right next to the world famous Cigale and a beautiful theater. It was a quick jaunt through the Place Graslin to the Place Royal, where there is a lovely fountain, lots of shops and interesting people. Here we purchased two pain au chocolates for breakfast.

Then we continued on, making out way through the Bouffay district to the Chateau of the Dukes of Bretagne. It was very beautiful, with free admission, and we walked all along the ramparts for a good half hour or so. Thinking about all the many, many people who had also walked those walls in the five hundred years or more that they have existed. It was a blissful experience, and we both were happy nearly to the point of tears.

Afterwards, we headed over to the Cathedral of Nantes. We toured the Cathedral only Thursday, and so had already been given good back ground information of its age, its history, and various symbols. Ere go, we were completely free to walk around and just soak in the feel and look of the place. It is very, very beautiful, with some of the highest walls of any French Cathedral. It has many beautiful and old statues and paintings and confessionals. Unfortunately, most of the stain glass is very ugly, having been added in the 20th century as a result of the French Revolution, a fire, and World War II. All in all though, it is impossible to walk into a Cathedral and not to feel moved. Men have constructed such elaborate monuments to honor God, and such dedication is so moving.

Then we happened along another IES student, Avril from Hope College in Michigan, who walked with us to find a sandwhich for lunch. En route, we happened upon a festival of wine that was being held by a community group. It was a wonderful little parade, complete with people dressed in traditional garb and a marching band that was excellent. Sometimes I have to pinch myself to make sure it's real.

Then we headed to the Passage Pommeraye. Just to stroll around. It is the oldest shopping mall in the world, so I'm told. Lots of beautiful window displays of candies! Avril departed, and Hanna and I tried to find L'Ile de Versailles. We ended up walking almost the exact wrong direction (this is not the norm though - we've actually been quite directionally savy). Fortunately though, today we got lost, and ended up at the Jardins des Plantes which was a lovely park, much in keeping with Hyde Park in San Francisco. There were doves and ducks, fountains and arbors and happy people everywhere of course. We explored quite happily for quite a while.

Realizing, eventually, that we were not at all in the correct neigborhood, we retraced our footsteps, hopped the TAN (like a tram) and headed to L'Ile de Versailles. It consists of a Japanese garden that is very lovely - lots of coy ponds and Japanese cedars - though I think honestly Hanna and I both preferred the Jardin des Plantes and were so glad we'd lost our way.

We decided to opt out of the TAN on our return, and walked along the Loire back towards le Centre Ville. We passed lovely house boats, restaurants on the rive, kayakers, and crazy blue tree statues that have been cut to look like humans. I can't really describe them, but they were very fun to walk by.

We returned to our apartments, rested, and then we went out again for an excellent dinner and wine at a restauraunt very near our house. Excellent! Then we met up with some friends in the Bouffay district, had some kir and chatted, went to another bar where I got locked in the bathroom for five minutes and had a minor panic attack, and then went home to rest.

1 semaine + le Commencement = The Beginning

I have now been in France one week, and I cannot believe that it has only been one week! The plane and train rides were a bit of an exhausting blur. I recall mainly that the plane was very small, the Paris airport was very frightening, and the train conductor on the 10:27 was very rude and a good deal too near the Parisian stereotype.

Our first weekend was spent on a relaxing vacation to Bretagne that IES Nantes arranged to help us overcome le decalage (jetlag)! What a good idea! In Bretagne, we stayed in a hotel in Vannes, where every evening we were served three course meals that were, honestly, the best tasting meals of my life. Our days were spent in the following ways:

• Le Chateau de Suscinio (XIIIth -XVth century) : The chateau was very beautiful and gloomy looking, situated next to an estuary of sorts that was teeming with birds. Unfortunately, the majority of the chateau had been remodeled and was currently being used as a museum of sorts, with an exposition featuring mediocre to above average but scarcely excellent photographs of birds that live around the chateau. I was not too excited by this exhibit. HOWEVER. There was a back end of the chateau that had not been remodeled and it was beautiful. It had a dilapidated tower that looked out onto the estuary and it was a gloomy sort of magical day and there was a very chilly breeze blowing and all this I loved.
• Port Blanc et (plus important) L'Ile aux Moines: We took a bus from Vannes to Port Blanc, a beautiful harbor full of lovely sail boats. We took a short ferry ride from Port Blanc to L'Ile aux Moines, where we were each given a picnic lunch and a bicycle and five hours to explore! It was heaven. The island was full of beautiful little cottages, some with thatched roofs, old churches and springs and ocean views and docks and abandoned ships and everything that is wonderful. The houses were painted lovely, bright colors, as is befitting an island haven. Magnificent! Hanna and I got lost early on, which was unfortunate because one of our friends had Hanna's sack lunch, but we made the most of it and explored for hours and went on two short strolls, both ending in the sea and one which passed by some very odd and eerie old spring houses with steps extending down into the spring - I don't know why! - but very wonderful looking.
• Vannes itself: very lovely and full of medieval buildings, a large cathedral and lots of small shops. So far every town I've been in, I've thought, "Well, wouldn't this be a nice place to live!" but no worries I love home too much to betray it.
• La Forteresse: an ancient chateau that hasn't been tackily remodeled in anyway. The chateau is quite a ways from the main road, so we had to walk through a forest that had more ferns than any forest I'd ever seen! The chateau was so beautiful and overgrown, with plants growing through all of the rock fronts; an old chapel had all but been removed by time, with only one wall left, the most beautiful stone window remained, through which grew trees and black berries. Additionally, there was a lovely lake left by the long gone moat, which was beautiful also and which Hanna and I hiked around. (I scuffed my new shoes though and was sad!)
  
• Keroyal de Plougoumelen: a wonderful creperie in the countryside with a wonderful view of a lake from the back window. We had a lunch crepe - jambon, des oeufs et du formage (ham, eggs and cheese) and a desert crepe which I think was butter and sugar and cream so of course - delicious.
• Alignements de Kermario: the French equivalent of Stone Henge. Incredibly lovely and mystical. The rocks were aligned (hence the name) in long rows from shortest to tallest over the distance of a football field, at the front of the alignement, the rocks were placed closer together in a crescent and it is believed that this is where only the high priest could go. Its crazy how many similarities even dissimilar religions have!
• Saint Goustan: a beautiful town that Ben Franklin himself frequented while in France! Our visit coincided with their annual festival d'huitres: festival of oysters! Wonderful! It was a truly bizarre celebration. There are knights of the oysters who take themselves very seriously and parade about playing bagpipes and carrying platters of oysters to display. The town was incredibly beautiful and I would have liked to spend more time there but, dommage, nous devions partir!
• La Rochefort en Terre: yet another beautiful town. Lots of old, beautiful buildings, lots of beautiful flowers everywhere. There were lots of art shops, there was a jazz band playing in the town square, there was a lovely old chateau.
  

Returning to Nantes, we met up with our familles d'acceuil (homestay families) again. My family consists of Clotilde, la mere, Arnaud, le pere, Amaury, le fils de 19 ans, et Erwan, le fils de 10 ans. I really like them! They're very sweet and funny, and though it has taken me way out of my comfort zone to live with another family, it has been a wonderful experience. Clotilde especially is very sweet; I believe she has participated in the program since her eldest daughter left for college in Paris, so I think she enjoys having another girl in the house to chat with. She is a really good cook, as are all of the French, and so far I've had no grave mishaps.

This week I've been taking orientation classes: French language and grammar of course, but also, French Manners and How to Make French Friends.

These are the most bizarre things I learned:

• Never say Bonjour alone. Bonjour, Madame, Bonjour, Clotile, but never just Bonjour.
• You only say Bonjour to each person once a day. If you said Bonjour to someone in the morning and then you see them again that afternoon, you cannot say Bonjour again without seeming weird.
• Never put your bread on your plate; it goes on the table to the left of your plate. (I seriously am not joking about this.)
• Your hands must always stay above the table, never in your lap.
• Always finish eating your food. You must not leave anything on your plate.
• If you call someone's house to speak to your friend and their housemother answers, if your friend is not at home you must end the conversation with, Sorry for displacing you, Madame, and thank you for your time.
• Always arrive either exactly on time or up to 15 minutes late. NEVER arrive early.
• Always use the formal VOUS to people you don't know, unless they are under 12 years old. Always.
  
• French families fight more than American families (though perhaps not more than my American family did (because of me)) but if the family fights at the table NEVER say anything or act like anything is going on wrong. (I experienced that tonight. YIPES!)

These are just a few.

The most shocking things though

1. Everyone kisses each other on the cheek. Everyone. Its not a myth.
2. No one ever says Hello or Good day to the people they pass on the street, unless they know them. It is considered rude and weird.
3. French people are SO SMALL AND THIN AND PRETTY

Thus concludes the summation of my first week.