French stereotypes de-bunked

Warning: To break stereotypes may just create them, so I hope to not offend anyone with any of my statements. These are just simple observations.

Myth: The French are smelly and unclean.

Reality: Recently Julien turned to me and asked in an upset voice why foreigners, especially Americans, think that French people don’t bathe and are dirty. I told him I didn’t know, but the question really made me think. All the French people I know are extremely clean and care a lot about their hygiene. Once Julien and I and a couple of friends went to a housewarming party in Paris. We stayed the night and the next day everyone took a shower before we left. I was surprised; we only stayed there for a few hours, why would I take a shower in someone else’s house, especially when I didn’t even bring a change of clothes? The Frenchies were quite surprised that I didn’t want to take a shower. Plus, how could French people smell bad, didn’t they invent perfume? Hello, ever heard of Coco Chanel?

So I guess the only place I could think that such a stereotype could originate is perhaps from the Paris metro, where I have smelled an assortment of body odors, which I assumed originated from the homeless.

Myth: French people have no work ethic.

Reality: Well, the French DO strike a lot. Julien’s friend, Tichou (mentioned before) just spent the entire weekend sleeping in his car in order to block the entrance to the factory where he works. They were protesting job cuts. The French only work 35 hour weeks, most don’t work on Sundays and some don’t work on Mondays. The un-employed get lots of benefits, so much so that a woman in Nice told Mom and me that these benefits often encourage people to quit their jobs. Five weeks of vacation, at least, plus more government holidays (like labor day and armistice day) than us. And their holidays don’t always fall on Mondays like ours conveniently do, so they often get extra long vacations (like this year 14 July, their national day, fell on a Thursday, so people didn’t go back to work until the following Tuesday). Trying to get anything done in August? Good luck, as more than half of the country is on vacation for the entire month.

The director of my program said to me “You know, the French administration…” and rolled her eyes. That is the understatement of the year. Sometimes I wonder if the administration is inefficient on purpose. Excessive paperwork should be France’s motto; to register a long stay visa, you send off a paper with your address and information to the Office of Immigration who then sends you another paper to fill out which you then send to them and they send you a “document of receipt.” HELLO, haven’t these people heard of computer databases? It’s the same system to get reimbursed for healthcare and housing assistance, sometimes even more time consuming. Not to mention that the various departments and authorities don’t inform one another of important changes in their system (i.e. when the Office of Immigration decided to stop issuing residency permits and instead issue long-stay visas). Complaints seem to go unheard as the French just accept it with a “c’est la vie.”

This one, you decide.

Myth: French is spoken with lots of idiosyncrasies that are quite humorous. And they are overly proud of their language.

Reality: A stereotypical French character waves their hands when they talk, says “Oh la la la” every few sentences, and takes long exaggerated pauses between words. They also wear a striped sailor shirt, black beret and red scarf. Funny enough, that description is accurate, except for the silly outfit. The first time I heard Julien and his friends use “oh la la la” in a conversation I burst out laughing. It’s our equivalent of “oh man” or loosely “oh my gosh” As in when you would tell a story (“I was walking down the street when I saw this man punch his companion in the face. Oh man, it was crazy!”) Or if you are complaining about something (You: “I was sick until 5 in the morning.” friend: “oh man, that sucks!”) Despite its frequent usage I just can’t bring myself to do it without laughing.

On the other hand, the over-usage of “um” and “uh” mid-sentence I have adapted. It makes more sense for me to use it because I am actually searching for the words when I speak, but I tell myself maybe French people are too; it’s hard to remember whether a noun is masculine or feminine or if a verb needs to be in the subjunctive. “Quoi” at the end of sentences is another quirk which might throw off someone who isn’t familiar with it (“Why is everyone asking ‘what’ at the end of their sentences??”) I think it translates roughly to our use of “like” or “whatever” in informal conversations.

As far as pride goes, there are probably people who would berate me for saying “un e-mail” instead of “un courrier electronique,” but it hasn’t happened yet. French people will of course correct me if I make mistakes, but it’s never in a mean way and they don’t usually call me out (unless I have made a grave error, like when I asked Julien if he had any single male friends for my male friend when I wanted to ask if he had any single male friends for my female friend.) In fact, recently I have been getting many compliments on my French; twice in the same day people told me that I have practically no accent. When that happens I sometimes wonder if I am too harsh on the French when they try to speak English, because their accents are bad enough for them to ruin the sense of a sentence and I can’t imagine that my accent is that much better. Or maybe the French, knowing that their English accents are horrible (which more than one French person has admitted to me), have very low standards.

Myth: The French are cold-hearted, arrogant people.

Reality: Cold-hearted? Hardly. Upon learning that I liked French wine, one of the teachers at my school said that her son owns a wine bar in Tours and she would happily take me there. The first night I met Julien last year I knew two out of 20 people in the room, but everyone made sure to speak to me and introduce themselves to me. Sure, I suppose it’s hard to walk up to a random person on the street and start up a conversation with them, but I personally don’t find the French to be rude or cold.

Arrogant? I think the arrogance stereotype stems from the pride in the French language, which I discussed above. Sure, the French are proud of their cheese and wines, their soccer stars, their healthcare system, their films, and their regional cuisines. Just as Americans are proud of our economic standing in the world, our football teams, southern cooking, our military, and our movie stars. Are we arrogant? We have a proud culture and so does France. Even though I don’t live in the US, I would defend it if necessary, as a French person would defend their nation. And if the US does something I don’t like, I would say it, and the French would do the same. So no, I don’t think they are any more arrogant than us.

Myth: French people love frog legs and escargot.

Reality: Many of the French people I have met have not eaten frog legs, contrary to popular belief.

Myth: French young people live at home until they are 30.

Reality: It is more acceptable for French young people to live at home longer than Americans. Students tend to go to university close to their homes, and often live at home. . And when the kids finally leave the nest, their parents still handle their finances or do their laundry. I was of course surprised, border-line appalled, because I know this would be looked down upon in the states.

Additionally, I am finding that French people tend to stick around where they grew up. Julien’s closest friends he met in pre-school. An old high school friend works at the gas station down the street. Maybe I am only speaking for myself, but none of my close friends live near me in the US and I certainly haven’t kept in touch with people I met in 1st grade. But hey, C’est la vie.

Myth: French people are insensitvely politically incorrect.

Reality: All Asian people are Chinese. Black face is a common disguise at costume parties. The popular children's game, telephone, is called Arab phone. I don't know, maybe it's me, but it seems that French people aren't really that concerned about offending anybody. Perhaps the place of importance that equality takes in French culture and politics somehow outweighs political incorrectness. Or maybe we Americans are too sensitive.

Myth: The French are overly sexual and open.

Reality: Watching a tv show comparing the 60s to the 80s, I noticed that there were a lot of nude breasts on display. It was 5:30pm on a friday. I explained to Julien that this would NEVER happen on cable tv in the US (remember Janet Jackson's fiasco) and he said, well what's the big deal? And it's true, I guess it's not a big deal, except that children might see it, but it wasn't portrayed as porn, perse, it was just women at the beach or something. For the country that "invented" the French kiss, it is no surprise to find out that yes, the French are more open about sexuality than Americans. Sex Education is surprisingly in-depth at the middle schools, having separate sessions on protection, STDs and homosexuality. Condoms are sold on the street, right outside of pharmacies. There is no doubt that these practices has resulted in low teenage pregancy rates, significantly lower than in the US, and low HIV rates. Public displays of affection are widely accepted, which is often frowned upon by us prudish anglophones; I must admit that I have gotten used to it, but last year there was more than one time I wanted to shout at some necking couple to get a room.

Back in France!!

After months of fun filled bureacratic drama, I finally got a renewal to come back to France and teach. I will be doing the same program, but I have been re-located to Tours, the other big city in this region. My schools themselves are not in Tours: Langeais is about 40 kilometers away and Ballan-Mire is closer. I arrived in France on the 28th of September and immediately begun searching for lodging in Tours (living here would allow me to have easy transport to both my schools).
My apartment in Tours is, as we would say in French Bien Situé, located a short 15 minute walk to the train station and the main shopping venues, 4 minutes to the grocery store with a bakery and pharmacy just around the corner. In the Prebendes neighborhood, named after the gardens just 5 minutes away, it’s full of families and students. If Paris and Orleans had a baby, I am pretty sure Tours would be their offspring. Tree-lined boulevards are adorned with cafes, shops, bakeries and your classic French flair, reminding me of some quartiers in Paris. The architecture of the old part of Tours and the cathedral invoke memories of a medieval town. Tours has lots of pedestrian only areas filled with bars and luxury shopping. The train station is photogenic, with its giant glass windows. So all in all, I can’t complain, though I do have partiality towards Orleans, since I lived there for so long. Tours is certainly working its charm on me, and the unusual 80 degree weather we are experiencing is of course helping its case. My schools are not as close to the city as they were last year. One is in Langeais, a charming little town about 30 minutes away from Tours. I catch a ride with either a French or a Math professor every morning to take the long but beautiful ride along the Loire to get to Langeais. There is a cute little castle in the town. The problem is, I often have to spend the entire day at the school because trains don’t pass frequently and I thus have to rely on teachers to take me home. The other school is in a suburb of Tours, Ballan-Mire, which is about 30 minutes on the bus. Here too I have to spend long days because the bus doesn’t come frequently. It’s no big deal; I have gotten a lot of reading done sitting in the teachers’ lounge!! All of the teachers I work with are really nice and the students are excited to have an American assistant. It’s pretty good for me because I am able to use a lot of the same materials that I used last year.

Last month in France

After my travels around Europe, I stayed in France to spend some time with friends and I did a lot of cool stuff.
Pictures

Last Month in France

Lacanau
Lacanau is on the Atlantic coast, close to Bordeaux. We went, with 25 other friends, to spend a long weekend at the beach. We stayed in little mobile homes and had barbeques. The weather was a bit cold, so no bathing suits, but it was fun watching the guys surfing.

Skydiving
As a birthday gift, Julien got me a certificate to go skydiving tandem (attached to a trained professional) in Montargis. It was AWESOME. The first 30 seconds of free fall was the best part. I can't wait to do it again.

Mont Saint Michel and Saint Malo
The second most visited tourist attraction in France is a huge cathedral built on a little island in Nothern France. It was gorgeous, we were lucky to have nice weather, and we strolled around. We found a little campsite in Cancale overlooking a beautiful harbour and ate dinner in the city. The next morning we headed to Saint Malo, a cute little coastal town with ramparts and forts.

Ardeche
Ardeche is in southern France, a beautiful region of gorges. We set out on saturday morning to kayak 32 km through the gorges. We played around a lot and acted foolish, so the usual 4 hour route took us 8. We camped at a location halfway down the river, and woke the next morning to torrential downfall. Despite this we continued kayaking down the river and were granted with beautiful weather. The first day, almost everyone fell out of their kayaks on rapids except me. So it was their goal to tip my kayak, and were successful. Luckily bad weather brings warmer water temperatures, so it wasn't too bad. I have never done something like that before, kayaking so far, but when we finally made it to the pick-up point, I felt like I had really acheived something. I was really sore for the next few days, though.

Weddings, Birthday Parties, and Concerts
I went to two concerts, a free one in Paris with Common, and a free one in Baule that displayed big bands. Numerous birthday parties as well, and a marriage party for friends on a huge estate in Sologne (the forest) with tennis tournements, fishing, and ltos of dancing. This was the weekend right before I left, and that was a really nice ending to my 9 months here.

So, tomorrow I am on a flight back to the US and I have no idea how to feel about it. I am a little worried about having to speak English all the time but excited to see friends and family. Nine months away from home is quite a long time!!

Not your typical European tour

I just got back from 15 days frolicking around. I visited London, England; Oslo, Norway and Bursa, Turkey. I decided against backpacking by myself around Europe and instead visited friends that were living/studying in this area. It was a fantastic trip, great time with friends, and I loved every minute.

London

I arrived in London on the 22nd of April after some 12 hours or so of travel. I would suggest taking the Eurostar because it is so much better than flying (I left Beaugency at 7am and arrived in London at 5pm GST, if I had taken the Eurostar I would have arrived in around 3 hours....). Anywho, met up with Christina, an old high school friend who is living/studying in London. We strolled along the Thames (pronounced "Tims") with excellent views of Big Ben and parliament.
23rd April: I went to the British Museum, which hosts a collection of mummies (including that of Cleopatra) among other interesting artifacts. One thing I loved about London was that almost all of the museums were free. I then headed to Covent Garden to meet up with Julien's aunt and cousins, who were in London helping Julien's cousin move-in to complete an internship in international business. It was a strange sensation, because I have grown so accustomed to hearing and speaking French and then translating French to English, but with Julien's family it was hearing and speaking English and translating that into French. My brain was pretty confused. We strolled around the Covent Garden shopping area and stumbled upon a theater that was hosting Mylie Cyrus/Hannah Montana's movie premiere. There were tons of teenage girls screaming and waiting for Mylie Cyrus to show up. (In case you don't know, she's a disney teen star, daughter of Billy Ray Cyrus "Achy Breaky Heart" one hit wonder from the 90s). Julien's young cousin wanted to stick around so she could take pictures to show to her friends back home, so we stood around acting silly (pretending we were super stars ourselves) before I had to leave to meet Chris for dinner.

Friday 24th April: I got up and headed to Buckingham palace to see the infamous changing of the guard. In all honesty, I think this was the worst part of my trip: way too many people, the sun beating down, and being that I am short, I couldn't see anything. I ended up just leaving early and hanging out in a park reading a book. I then headed towards Trafalgar square, but before reaching it I got distracted by a film crew and actors in Victorian style costumes. From there I headed to Westminster Abbey and Parliament before making my way back towards Trafalgar square and the National Gallery. I saw a painting I remembered studying in a fine arts class, the Arnolfini marriage, which is cool because you can see the artist in the mirror that's behind the couple. That evening, Christina was hosting a party for her department in a cute garden (and the Brits were surprised that the weather was nice enough to have a party outside) and I got to meet her friends and other students pursuing masters/phDs at the University of London. It even sparked my interest in their School for Orient and African Studies. so who knows, maybe I will be in London getting a masters sometime soon?
Saturday 25th April: After a classic English lunch of fish and chips, Christina and I headed to an afternoon one-man play at the Little Vic. The play ("I can see the hills") was quite good; a funny, sad, serious, interesting story of growing up and being a teenager. We then headed to southern London to spend time with Christina's boyfriend, Chris, before calling it an early night.
Sunday 26th April: We picnicked in a park near Chris' house before heading to a museum that had just about everything you could want from a museum: natural history, artifacts, and an aquarium. And it was free too. We finished off the evening at a pub in Camden, which is an eclectic, artsy part of London.
Monday 27 April: On my last day in London, the weather decided to take a turn, or to perhaps return to normal London weather: rainy, windy and cold. I headed to the Tower of London, the only museum where I had to pay ($15, thank goodness the dollar was the best it has been against the pound in a long time), but was well worth it. Each tower had different displays, the crown jewels, the armor of Henry the 8th, the bloody stories of the deaths of Anne Boleyn and other traitors of the state, and general medieval living that occurred in the time the tower was used as a castle. I then headed to St. Paul's cathedral (featured in the Da Vinci Code) before calling it a night.

Oslo
Tuesday 28 April: I flew from London Stansted airport to Oslo Torp airport where I was finally struck with the fact that I was visiting a country where I didn't speak a word of the language. I managed to buy a train ticket and get to the Oslo train station where I met Karen, a friend I met in Ghana (read any of the posts from Ghana, I am sure I talked about her).
Wednesday 29 April: We headed to the Royal Palace, just a short walk from Karen's apartment. It was a lot more low key than Buckingham and the royal guards actually speak to you. There was some sort of event with the Canadian government that was going down, so hence all the maple leaf flags everywhere. We passed the National Theater which had a statue of Henrik Ibsen (the writer of "a doll's house," a play about being a woman in the victorian age that I read in high school). We then headed to the National Gallery to see the Scream painting and the Madonna, both of which were recently stolen. Munch, the painter, made multiple copies of the same pieces and many of them were in the museum. I really like the Scream, I feel like I can sometimes relate to it, that feeling of despair or frustration that you hold inside but you want to let out. We then went to the harbour, had some expensive ice cream (5 USD for a cone). After that we visited a fort that overlooks the harbour and the City Hall where the Nobel Peace Prize is given. The whole day was the day of dance, so we got to see lots of free performances in the streets including some interesting modern dance and pole dancers in the metro. We made traditional Norweigan meatballs for dinner.
Thursday 30 April: I got up early and headed to the Nobel Peace Prize museum. You could literally spend days here; there are tons of films about the history of the prize and the recipients, a whole display on last year's winner, and then a room full of screens that are motion activated that have information, quotes, and other facts about all of the winners. If that wasn't enough, you can go to a room with a giant screen and pick which winners you want to learn about using a giant computer screen. I spent a lot of time there learning about all these amazing people and their neverending devotion to peace. I ate a 9 USD sandwich and then took a train to Ås (pronounced "Os") where Siri, another friend from Ghana, is studying environmental development at the university. There was some sort of team building activity going on before labor day, so there were people in interesting outfits doing crazy activities, like milk jug throwing contests, 3 legged races, constructing pipelines, and log sawing. It was quite fun and I got to meet some of Siri's friends.
Friday 1 May: Labor Day, so Siri, Karen and I headed from Ås to Oslo (we had to wait a while for the train, so we played cards - brought back the memories of Ghana). We visited the Vigeland statue Park, which was awesome. Side note: the weather was in the high 70s and sunny, certainly not what I was expecting from Norway, so everyone was outside sunbathing. After the statue park, we went to the Viking Ship museum, which was crazy to see ships that could have traveled all the way across the Atlantic long before the English started their colonial campaigns. Crazy. Since the weather was nice we decided to have a bbq in the park where we played more cards and petanque (a French game with balls, quite fun) and frisbee before heading back to Karen's place and playing cards til 2 in the morning. I loved visiting these friends I hadn't seen in 3 years and liked that we just fell right back into normalcy despite the length of time we hadn't seen each other.

Turkey
Saturday 2 May: I left Karen's apartment at 4:30 in the morning to head to the airport. I flew Austrian airlines, which was really nice (they gave meals on the flights) so I had a lay-over in Austria (and those jerks stamped my passport, even though I never left the airport). I arrived in Istanbul around 4:30, but had to stand in a ridiculous line to get a visa and to pass through passport control. After some confusion (once again, in a country where I don't speak the language), I took the metro to the bus station to take a bus to Bursa, where I was to meet Ryan (another friend from Ghana). The bus was really nice, they offered you tea and coffee throughout the trip, and we crossed Marmara sea via ferry.
Sunday 3 May: Ryan is living and teaching English in Bursa, a city of about 2 million people. We had brunch with some of his adult students who were really interesting and sweet. We then wandered Bursa, checking out the mosque, and the tombs of the founders of the Ottoman empire. That night we went to a mosque to see the whirling dervishes, Sufi followers who spin in the direction of the earth and are searching for the Muslim equivalent of Nirvana, to be one with Allah. It was an interesting experience, especially at the end when this old woman came up to me, smiling and pinching my cheeks and touching my hair. It appeared that a lot of Turks had never seen a black person before and were thus extremely intrigued or confused by me. I have never been stared at so much in my life.
Monday 4 May: I tried to go to the Bursa city museum, but it was closed, so instead I went to the Grand Bazaar, an overwhelming indoor shopping area with anything and everything you could possibly ask for. Getting circumcised? there are little outfits for boys to wear when this happens (I was thinking 4 or 5 was a bit old for circumcision, but it is really a rite of passage ceremony). We then headed to the Islamic art center, which is housed in an old hammam and had beautiful calligraphy. We went to a tea house for a jam session of authentic Turkish music with Turkish instruments. A pause: tea is a really big tradition in Turkey, when you enter a store youre offered tea and when you meet up with friends its only proper to have tea and after meals too. I am pretty sure this day I had the most tea, at least 10 cups, if not more. whoa. After the jam session I went to one of Ryan's classes, with the students that had treated us to brunch, and they gave me cute gifts which I thought was so sweet.
Tuesday 5 May: Ryan and I headed up hill to a 600 year old tree in Inkaya for breakfast. We ended up waiting a while for a bus, so we did it up Ghana style and sang musicals til it arrived. We then went to Culture park for a stroll and then inside of the big mosque in town. That night we watched a Turkish film that was really good. Spending time with Ryan was awesome. He has really done well in Bursa, making lots of friends and learning a lot of Turkish. He knew everyone, it seemed, and we were often invited to tea or free food in shops because he had so many friends. Speaking of food, Ryan really wanted me to try everything, so we did. I tried Turkish pastries, Turkish cheeses that reminded me of string cheese and feta, real kebab, Bursa's speciality Ishkender kabab with yogurt sauce, yogurt beverages, baklava, Turkish style loaded baked potatoes, and Turkish breakfasts. Bursa itself was an interesting city, right in the heart of the mountains, it was neither hot nor too cold. I would love to get to Turkey again because of all of the history that lies within its borders. I used to think that Peru was the best country that I have vistited because it has everything you could want: beach, history, desert, mountains, intriguing culture. But Turkey has that too... I wish I had more time to explore the rest of this awesome nation.
Wednesday 6 May: Woke up at 5 to catch the 7:30 ferry across the Marmara Sea to get back to Istanbul. I had a full plate of things to see, so I had to start early. I wandered around looking for my hostel, dropped my stuff, then went to Hagia Sophia, the Orthodox cathedral built in the 500s by Emperor Justinian (when Instanbul was Constantinople). I was a little disappointed by this place, and it was the one I was looking most forward to. It had been turned into a mosque, so lots of Arabic script everywhere, and there was scaffolding everywhere too, and lots of people. I then headed to Topkapi palace, which I loved. It was so huge and gorgeous. There were displays of Sultan uniforms and outfits, religious relics such as the footprint of Muhammad when he ascended into heaven, and gorgeous pieces of jewelry. Crowded, but big enough to avoid the groups, I spent the most time here, wondering around in awe. I then headed to the Blue Mosque, which was gorgeous on the outside and small but still beautiful on the inside. A turkish family asked me to be in a picture with them. Strange. I got extremely lost in the Grand Bazaar, which after seeing the one in Bursa wasn't quite worth it, before getting a much needed rub-down in a Hammam (by this point I had been walking the whole 2 weeks and my feet and body were killing me). Called it an early night in the hostel and left the next morning for Vienna and then Paris. I was excited to be in a country where I could understand what was going on, and I realized that France has become a bit of my second home.

Travels around Europe

Rouen , chateau Vaux-le-Vicomte, final days of work

For all who may not know, I have a mild obsession with Joan of Arc. Orleans was the first city she saved, so when I was placed there I could only attribute that to fate. I have visited many cities that thank her for liberating them (Beaugency and Blois), searched out her statues in Orleans and surrounding towns, found her in various cathedrals, and read anything I can put my hands on about her. Thus, it was only proper to visit the city where she was burned at the stake at only the age of 19. Rouen is in Normandy, about a three hour trip from Orleans along the Seine river. It was a large town, equip with its own metro, but we had only one thing in mind – find Joan. The Cathedral is huge but overlooks a cute square. There is a Joan of Arc church that is very modern, but cool nonetheless. A museum is hidden inside of a gift shop and takes you through her life with wax figures enacting important moments. There is a tower with Joan memorabilia on the second floor and a giant cross marks where she was killed. Her heart didn’t burn, so they threw it and her ashes into the Seine. It was really cool to see all the Joan stuff, but a little devastating considering most of the pictures/statues were of her burning at the stake, certainly not her most glorified moment. Nonetheless, it was a cool trip to make.

The week of April 14 – April 18 marked my last days of school. It was a bit odd saying goodbyes. My colleagues at Checy threw a party for me and gave me some really nice gifts. But what struck me the most was when my favorite 4eme class gave me a giant card that they had all signed, a French flag, and a class photograph. It was really nice to feel appreciated.

The weekend after my last days, I went to a chateau with Sandrine. It was about 1.5 hour drive, to the outskirts of Paris. Vaux-le-Vicomte was actually the inspiration for Versailles and was built by a croonie of Louis the sun king. Foucault got on Louis’s bad side, though, and got banished. His mascot was a squirrel. The Chateau was really nice, complete with decorated stables and beautiful gardens. After walking around the chateau we went to Barbizon, a little town that was the inspiration for art by Millet. We found the woods and had a picnic before taking a lovely promenade in the forest. It was a really nice experience and I will always appreciate Sandrine looking out for me, making sure I have as many cultural experiences as possible here.

I moved out of my apartment in Orleans. I moved all my stuff to a friend’s house while I travel around. I am heading to London, Oslo and Turkey to visit people, and I am really excited. I get back right in the middle of the Joan of Arc festival, and then head to Lacanau to enjoy (watching) surfing and the beach. My vacation has officially started!!

Brussels and Futuroscope

Bruxelles



The 20th of March I hopped a train to Brussels, Belgium to visit my friend Katie who is teaching at the International School there. Brussels is only one hour from Paris, but it was quite different from being in France. For one, all of the signs are reauired to be in both French and Flemish. Flemish is a Germanic language, thus a cousin to English and a lot of the words were pretty close. I am interested in learning what the teaching curriculum is like in Belgium, do all students learn both languages?
Saturday, Katie had a conference to attend, so I hung out with Molly, another visiting American, and we explored the city center. There is a big square, the grand place, with beautiful buildings with ornate decorations. In the square there is also a chocolate museum, with of course free samples. We walked through a local craft market and an antique market, before finding an outdoor cafe to bask in the winter sun. Difference number 2: the Belgians don't give you free tap water like in France, but they do give you butter with your bread.
After sampling Belgian beers, we headed out for a night on the town to celebrate Katie's roommate's birthday. After eating Greek food, we found the overrated Mannequin Pis, and went to a bar called Delirium. We also ate the most delicious waffle I have ever had in my entire life. After absinthe and comedy at the bar, we went dancing and got back to Katie's around 2am.
Sunday was a lazy, but still beautiful winter day. We hung out in a park, people watching, before I got my train back to Paris.

From the short duration of my time there, Brussels seems like an interesting, and diverse capital. But the most intriguing aspect was not the city itself, but the Americans I met that lived there. None of them spoke French beyond the basics, which amazed me, considering that they have lived there for as long as I have. It's easy to get around just speaking English, and when your friends speak English, and you work/teach in English, it's easy to get insular and only use English. It just really surprised me.


Futuroscope



I have been to many a theme park in my day, but never something like this one. Three hours away, near Poitiers, is Futuroscope, an indoor theme park with a futuristic theme. I visited the park with Tiphaine, a friend from the IUFM, and her two sisters and we had a blast. I have never watched so many IMAX movies in one day. There were films that you watched while your seat moved under you, like a simulated car chase. Another moving one was a tour of the region where we were, complete with a creepy tree-elf tour guide that sneezed on you (water blown on you from somewhere). There was a round theater teaching you about the galaxies, another where the screen continued under your feet, thus giving you two intense images, one that led you down the blue nile, and another that showed you the world of dinosaurs. The length of the films was from 5 minutes to 40 and some were 3D. The best, though, wasn't a film at all. It was an interactive simulation of blindness. We were led into a completely dark room filled with sounds, smells, and objects and were supposed to find our way through. Before entering, there were multiple signs saying that it was IMPERATIVE to understand French fluently for your safety. I was a little nervous, but it turns out that it wasn't too bad. The guide directed us through the "rainforest", where we touched plants, heard birds, rode on a "boat." Then he lead us into a crowded street that was very loud and I started getting a little nervous, even though I knew it wasn't real, because I couldn't hear him and he separated everyone from the group, so we were all just staggering around, running into cars, people, dogs, street signs, etc. Finally, he brought us back together to cross the street and go to the beach. You had to pay extra for this activity, but the money went to help people who were blind or partially blind and the experience itself was certainly worth it. As Tiphaine said in her note upon leaving the simulation "not to make a pun or anything, but this experience was certainly eye opening."

Mom's Visit

Sorry for the lack of posting, in general, since I have been in France. I suppose that I have gotten into the boredom of every day life and find less and less that inspires me (unlike my séjours in Africa, where I had lots more to say).

Mom's visit

On February 22 I met my mom in Paris and we started our 2 week vacation. We came straight to Orléans, which was a bit of a pain considering how the Paris metro does not cater to handicap people or people with large pieces of luggage, but we made it. That evening we had raclette with the other Americans in Orleans, and then called it a night.
February 23
We went to Chenonceaux, a beautiful Loire valley chateaux, with Julien and Charlotte. Known as the Chateaux des dames (the women's castle), it was first a home for a mistress of Henri, then his crazy wife got upset about that and took it away from her, and then it passed through various royal hands. Part of the castle stretches into the river, which is interesting, and boats used to pull up underneath and, using pulleys, deliver goods to the castle. The castle was also important during war time as it served as a hospital in WWI and as a secret passageway between Nazi occupied France and Free France during WWII.
After the Chateaux we headed back to Orléans for dinner/wine tasting at Sandrine's house. It was really fun, and I think mom really got to experience a French dinner party in all its glory (laughter, lots of wine, good food, good conversation, etc).
February 24 - 27
Headed to dreary Paris. I developed some sort of sketchy cold/cough, so it made the "City of Love" even more exciting. We visited the Rodin museum, Musée d'Orsay with its impressionist art, the Louvre on the only sunny day we had in Paris, Eiffel Tower, Notre Dame, Sacre Coeur (mom threatened me with death for forcing her to climb to the top of the hill), and Versailles. We found cute restaurants and did a little shopping. But with the crummy weather, we were very excited to leave Paris and head to Sunny Nice.
February 27- March 4
NICE! (pronounced like Niece) Southern France, Cote d'azur, right on the Mediterrean, you can't get much better. We rented an apartment for the week, which was cute and well situated, except it was on the fourth floor (read 5th floor by us Americans) and there was no elevator (I now have beasty thighs, haha). It was right above a bakery, so every morning I would run down and get us some fresh bread. My friend Kether came to stay with us for a few days and the three of us had a blast. We came right at the end of the Carnival, so we got to see some parades, dance groups, a Native American group (bizarre) and drumming crews. On the last day of Carnival, it's tradition to burn the king float, so we donned ourself with cans of silly string, and headed to the beach to watch the burning. I couldn't see very much but the atmosphere was lively and fun (everyone was spraying random strangers with silly string, and mom frightened a child half to death by spraying him, and a little boy dressed as superman chased us down with the silly string, it was hilarious). There was even a fantastic fireworks show at the end, arguably the best one I have seen in a really long time.
Nice is a gorgeous city. The port, shaped like a horshoe, has a lovely view and road called the promenade des anglais. The beaches are mostly pebbles and the water was calm and turquoise. We walked a lot around the town, because there was so much to see and because the weather, in the 60s and sunny, was fantastic. Nice has an awesome market, so we bought fresh produce, fish, olive products (I have never seen so many different varieties of olives in the same place), and cooked up two dinners in the apartment. We also did lots of shopping. We visited the museum of fine arts, the Matisse museum , and the modern art museum, because they were all free. Mom and I headed to Monaco on our second to last day. It's probably best known for its casinos and Grand Prix race, but it wasn't really that exciting. Lots of espensive stores, high rise buildings, but at least the trip there, along the corniches that follow the Mediterrean, was gorgeous.
March 4 -March 7
Flew from Nice to Paris, jumped a train to Orléans and had a late dinner with Julien. The next day we spent the afternoon at the hair dresser (oh the joys of black hair) and had dinner with the Mellah's, a lovely Moroccan family that I tutor. It was an interesting dinner, because there were a lot of attempts to speak English and a lot of translation done by me and Khadija, the German assistant who speaks French and English (and Arab and Berber, she's amazing). Nevertheless, it was really enjoyable and I liked that mom got to meet the people I spent time with here in France. The last days in Orléans we spent shopping and relaxing. Mom finally headed out on the 7th of March. I was really excited to see her and I am happy she got to have her first trip to Europe to come visit me. I think she had a really great time, too.
Since it is now half-way through March, I must admit that I am a little freaked out by the fact that only 5 weeks are left on my contract. Where did the time go? I have already been here for 6 months! whoa. Don't ask me what the next step is 'cause I have no idea. :)

Soldes and Bordeaux

In the U.S. I rarely purchase clothes at their full retail price. Instead, I head straight for the sales racks and find great deals on fashionable items up to 70% off. As far as I know, there are no regulations on when American stores can have sales, because it seems like all of my favorite stores always have something cute on the racks with a discounted price tag. So it was surprising to learn that France has state mandated sales twice a year, and you would be hard pressed to find something on sale (at least highly marked down) any other time of year. January saw the kick-off of the three week long "soldes" and every store had signs advertising their 25 - 70% off prices. I love shopping, so this was of course welcomed, but the most intriguing aspect of the soldes occured in the first weekend. As you may know (or read about in a previous post) it is illegal to be open on sundays unless your store has a permit. But with the current state of the economy, the shop owners' organizations and unions voted to have their shops open on the first sunday of the soldes. Being that it is France, and nobody hesitates to withold their opinion, especially if it is in regard to extending their work weeks, there was much voiced concern. On the one hand, those advocating the sunday opening argued that it would increase sales, thus improving the revenue of the shops and boosting the economy. Others argued that in reality, since people have less spending money because of the crunch in the economy, shops would be wasting money by having to pay employees to work extra on sundays( those employees who worked sunday were paid more) despite the fact that nobody would come to purchase items. Some shops opted out (like Carrefour, the Walmart-esque store here), but for the most part stores were open. The sunday work day debate isn't just one occuring here locally, it is actually one that Sarkozy has been trying to change since his election. According to a Newsweek article I read, Sarkozy wants people who want to work on sundays to have the right to do so (people who want to work on sundays are those that are unemployed, first time job seekers and young people), whereas his opposition says that having sunday as a work day would force poor people (aforementioned group who "want" to work on sundays) to feel obligated to work. They also say that it diminishes culture, as it would interfere with pick-up league soccer matches that occur on sundays. As a consumer living in French society, I will say that it is particularly frustrating to not be able to do much needed shopping on sundays (i.e. groceries) or just leisurely stroll the streets and window shop on the day of rest, but I suppose I can see the other side of the argument (why work more? 35 hour work weeks are awesome!)
Bordeaux
The last weekend of January, I hopped a train and headed south to visit a friend that lives in Bordeaux. You probably know of Bordeaux because of the wine, but it is a beautiful port city nestled along a river with lots of cute squares and gorgeous architecture (it was untouched during the war, so unlike many other French cities, including Orleans, important buildings weren't destroyed by bombs). I was visiting my friend Lizzie (see Spring Break in the Gambia and Christmas in Morocco) and we had quite a lovely time. It was much warmer in Bordeaux (like in the 50s) and so we strolled around and visited a cute local market before having lunch with other Americans that live in the area at a locally-grown produce restaurant (we ate a lot of squash because that was what was in season). We explored the city some more, hunted down the famous canelés (a baked treat that comes from Bordeaux), bought some Bordeaux wines, and then headed home to cook a fresh produce dinner. The next day we headed down to the river for an enormous market with everything you could imagine : Senegalese food, wine, rabbits, different sauces, pizza, shrimp, crepes, etc. Once fully satiated off the great eats, we headed to the museé de beaux arts, which we thought was closed (we found out later that in reality we were at the wrong building and the actual museum was open) so instead we went to a museum of textiles and interior design, which was interesting (got to check out all the gorgeous stuff rich people living in the 17th and 18th century had). It was a short visit, but it was a load of fun and Bordeaux itself is a beautiful city, definitely worth visiting again.
My next post will be about all the visitors I have had during the month of February (My friend Ryan from Ghana - read this post to jog your memory, Kether -my friend that lives in Paris, and my Mom who is coming for the winter break that starts tomorrow). So lots more to come!!

The French Way - Strikes

Stereotypically, France is known for its love of strikes. I would say the French just like to express themselves by taking to the streets. There have been tons of protests since my arrival, ranging from the engineering students at the university to support for Palestine, but the biggest ones are the lycée students and the recent garbage worker strike.

Lycée Students
The education minister has proposed some serious changes to the secondary school system and it hasn't boded well with the high schoolers. In France, upon entering high school, one must select a track to follow through the course of the 4 years in lycée. These tracks are either vocational or academic oriented, and within those tracks there are others, such as economics, business training, the humanities, science and math, and technology. This decision affects how many hours of different courses you are required to take; obviously someone in the economics track will take more math classes and fewer literature classes than someone in the humanities track. Apparently, the education Minister, Darcos, wants to change the number of hours of general studies and also the whole track system. It of course has its pluses and minuses: what if you decide you hate humanities and you have already chosen this path? Either way, the students are not happy and right before Christmas vacation they took to the streets in protest. Then in the first weeks of January they were at it again (perhaps they just wanted an extension of their holidays...). Their anger with the decisions have caused Darcos to change some of his ideas, or at least the way he words them, so perhaps they will be successful in their endeavor.

Trash Workers
Imagine all the garbage that Christmas produces: wrapping paper, foie gras cans, spoiled meat, turkey carcasses, plastic that once covered a brand new wii, Christmas trees, cardboard boxes... now imagine the garbage that New Year's brings: broken champagne bottles, discarded party favors, plastic champagne flutes, oyster shells...
Now imagine a month's worth of garbage plus Christmas and NYE stuff, and you have the streets of Orléans. Since December 25, the garbage workers have been on strike and it's not a pleasant sight. A once pedestrian friendly city, it is now nigh impossible to walk on the sidewalks thanks to the overflowing trash bins. Health hazard? The leader of the trash workers union doesn't think so. He said that you don't have sanitary issues when it's cold (what about rats, and recently the temperature went up, what now?) They are striking for pay raises and changes in policy. And apparently they are serious and negotiations aren't working because there's still garbage everywhere.

When one of the 3ème's fathers was getting kicked out of France for not having papers, my students protested for two hours. Barely 14, they have been engendered in the ways to let your government know that you are not happy.
The 29th of this month is a major teacher strike day, but since I am not part of a union and I want to get paid, I will still be teaching. The question of course is whether or not the students will actually show.

A Desert Christmas and a Parisian New Year

PHOTOS
On December 22, I flew from Paris to Marrakesh, Morocco. I arrived around 6pm, took an extremely expensive cab into the city center, and was given horrible directions to my hostel by the cabdriver. So of course, I got lost, wondering around in this huge medina that was packed with shops, motorcycles/scooters, donkey carts and tons of people. Thanks to the help of a French guy at another hostel, I finally found where I had reserved a bed. Boy, was I in for a surprise; the bedroom was 18 beds lined up in rows with no lockers or any privacy to say the least. I headed downstairs to check out Marrakesh when I met a British family on their vacation. They were very kind, and sort of “adopted” me. I went to eat with the son and daughter, and here we met some friendly Moroccan gents who took us into the nicer part of town where we could find bars and clubs. I suppose the reason that a bottle of wine exceeded 25 euros was due to the fact that Morocco is a predominately Muslim nation and also perhaps because the bars were in the rich part of town. And for the record, Morocco in December is not hot, far from it actually. I was freezing the whole trip, and the hostel of course didn’t have heat.
The next day we had a lovely breakfast on the terrace overlooking the medina. We then headed out to do some hardcore bargaining for Christmas gifts in the market. The moment I stepped off the plane and smelled that diesel-ly, oh so African scent, I knew I was back on the motherland. Of course the people looked a bit different from sub-Saharan Africans, but the lack of traffic lights, the overabundance of bicycles, motorcycles and donkey carts on the roads, the harassing men, and the bargaining in shops brought me back. After hours in the shops, we stopped for coffee and tea in a terraced café overlooking the square called Djemma el-Fna. Here you could find snake charmers, dancers, acrobats, women wanting to give you henna tattoos, freshly squeezed orange juice, spice carts, dried fruit carts, and men with monkeys. All of my senses were overwhelmed by this small, but bustling square. After our break, we found a palace with beautiful architecture, explored the markets some more, before heading back for couscous and tagine for dinner. After dinner, we decided to try out a Hammam, a Moroccan style bath. For 13 euros, we relaxed for 45 minutes in a hot sauna lit by candlelight, got a scrub down with black (smelled minty) soap, and an oil massage. It was absolutely fantastic and was totally worth getting my hair messed up.
Christmas Eve, Lizzie and Megan, two American friends from France met me at the hostel and we headed for the bus to Ourzazate (pronounced WAR-ZA-ZAT). From Marrakesh we had to cross the high Atlas Mountains, and I have never seen such landscape in my life: Red clay and dry scrub with the backdrop of snow capped peaks. We drove up and up through forests, small villages, along windy roads with the threat of falling stones or snow. On the other side of the mountain range is what I was told is landscape similar to Arizona, with red clay plateaus and hillsides. Ourzazate is famous for its movie studios; if you have seen Gladiator or the Mummy, this is where those films were made. Once we arrived, we explored the city a bit, then found a restaurant to have our “Christmas” dinner: vegetarian couscous, chicken tagine, and lamb chops with French fries. We hit the sack early, because Christmas day had the promise of desert tours that started quite early.
Christmas day, we parted our ways, the other girls headed on a two day trek in the desert and me headed on a shorter trip to some cool sights around Ourzazate. In an SUV, I and a tour guide named Nacir headed to three Casbahs, Moroccan villages on hilltops that have been around for many centuries. The three Casabahs were : Tifoultoute, Ait Ben Haddou, and Tamdakht. I just saw the first one from a distant, but quite a beautiful sight with a walled town and a huge lookout tower on top. To get to Ait Ben Haddou, we strayed off the main road, crossed a river by foot, and climbed to the top of the Casbah to see the gorgeous view of the mountains and village below. This particular casbah was very important during the spice trades from Timbuktu. In fact, if you so desire, you could take a camel ride from Ourzazate to Timbuktu, to have the experiences of those merchants from the 12th century. It only takes 53 days.  the final casbah I saw was a bit smaller, but it was here that I got to ride a camel (albeit only for a few minutes, and at a cost of 4 euros, but definitely worth it). It was a bit rocky, like riding on a boat in the ocean, but whoa was I high up, I never thought about how tall camels are! Though that tour cost me a pretty penny (75 euros including tip, access to the casbah, camel ride, and tour) I am glad I did it and didn’t leave Ourzazate without seeing anything.
The bus ride back to Marrakesh was horrendous. It was a very smooth, fast ride, but apparently it wasn’t so smooth for 75% of the voyagers, because they were all puking. I am not normally thrown off by vomit, but when the whole bus is busting out plastic bags to throw up, and then they have to keep it for the rest of the 5 hour drive…. Well I can say I was very happy to get to Marrakesh!
On the bus I met a French/Lebanese science teacher who hails from the town where Evian is produced. He needed a hostel, so I showed him my “lovely” one, and we hung out, talking about American politics, the Middle East situation, the French education system, and a host of other topics. The next morning I said farewell to Morocco, arrived in Paris around 2, took the train back to Orleans (it was a good 30 minutes late), went to a small party with some French friends, slept for like 3 hours, left Beaugency at 6:30, got to Paris at 8:15, killed time in a café, took the train to the Airport and finally met Aaron and Dad at 12ish on the 26th. It was quite a whirlwind of traveling, and it wasn’t even over yet!!
We checked into the hotel, then headed south to Paris. We searched out the Eiffel Tower, Arc de Triomphe, and explored the left bank around Fontaine St. Michel. We were all exhausted, so after dinner and all that walking, we crashed at the hotel.
Sunday, 28th December: The Louvre. I am certain that this was the highlight of both Aaron and Dad’s trip. Aaron kept asking if we could find Mary Magdalene’s tomb (reference to the Da Vinci Code). We spent two hours in the French statues and bronzes section, before we realized that there was no way we could see everything in this huge museum in a day. We saw Hammurabi’s code in all its glory (did you know it says that if a child is disrespectful to his parents, he loses a hand?) before joining the crowd to see the most famous item of all, good ol’ Mona. What’s so great about her anyway? I bet she was just some rich lady that asked Da Vinci to paint her and over the years we have made such a big deal over it. We also saw some other famous paintings by Delacroix and of course a Joan of Arc portrait. After the Louvre, we found a small pizza restaurant near a statue of Moliere, then headed to Musee d’Orsay for some impressionist paintings by the likes of Monet, Manet, and Van Gogh. After that we headed to St. Germain area for a very French dinner (escargots, frog legs, fondue, duck breast, and wine of course) before heading back to the hotel.
Monday, 29th December: I guess this time of year is the tourist season because all the touristy spots were packed. We entered Notre Dame in all its glory (p.s. there is a Joan of Arc statue here too!), the Concierge where Marie Antoinette and Robespiere were held during the revolution and before their deaths by guillotine, and Saint-Chappelle cathedral with its beautiful stained glass windows. We ate sandwiches while sitting on the Seine River and then headed to the area around Chatelet and Centre Pompidou, where we did a little shopping (didn’t buy anything though).
Tuesday, 29th December: Headed out of town a bit to go to Versailles. I studied this palace in a fine arts class freshman year, but it was a bit disappointing, mostly because of the overwhelming crowd and the dreary rain. Once inside, you couldn’t pause long to look at any piece of art because of the pressing crowd, but I did get to see the glorified portraits of Louis XIV (it was his chateau) and Napoleon. There was also this modern art exhibit that was interspersed throughout that was extremely bizarre considering the beauty surrounding it. By modern art I mean a display case full of old vacuum cleaners, a statue of Michael Jackson and his pet chimp, and other strange stuff. Lunch at McDo’s (sad I know) and then to Orleans for the afternoon. Aaron said he liked Orleans, and that made me happy. We just pretty much explored my stomping ground before eating dinner at a local restaurant and heading back to Paris.
Wednesday,31st December: Made a fat morning (gras matinee) because we knew it would be a long day. Met Kether for lunch at a Senegalese restaurant in the 11th (p.s. Aaron and Dad were both thrown off, because this part of Paris is very “ethnic” i.e. a lot of black people on the streets and in the shops). We checked out Sacre Coeur and Montmartre, saw Moulin Rouge and all the sex shops. After a brief stop at the hotel to drop off our stuff, we headed to Chatelet for dinner (a long one) to await the coming year. Cops were everywhere. The metros were free starting at 5, so you can imagine the crowds. I got first hand experience seeing the “hoodlum” youth of Paris, boys lighting cigarettes on the metro (big no-no) harassing people on the train, shaking the candy machines for free loot, running through the halls and getting apprehended by the police. After dinner, we met Kether and her friend Jamela for champagne before hitting the metro (no champagne on the Champs de l’elysees, the one thing the cops actually enforced). After fighting through the crowded metro, we arrived on the Champs at 3 minutes til 12. We check our watches, 11:59… 12:00… NOTHING. We turn towards the Eiffel Tower, nothing. We wait, 12:15, still nothing. Talk about disappointment. Despite the fact that the streets were packed with people, there was no fireworks show, no countdown, no ball drop. Just a bunch of drunk people, cops, and us. We tried to make it fun by singing patriotic American songs before headed to the metro to wait an hour for the train. We got back to our hotel at 3am.
Thursday, 1st January: Took the TGV to Le Mans. The TGV is a very fast train system in France and Aaron and Dad were really excited to take it. We kept going through tunnels and my ears kept popping. Le Mans was DEAD on the 1st, so we took the tram out to the racetrack where they have the 24 hours of Le Mans race every year. Then we just headed back to Paris, ate dinner at the same restaurant we had the night before, and then to the hotel to pack.
Friday, 2nd January: I accompanied Aaron and Dad back to the airport where we said our goodbyes. It was great having them visit, show them around, pretend like I knew what I was doing. I left the airport and headed straight for Orleans where I spent the weekend with Charlotte, hanging out, watching Top Chef and planning lessons (ugh, gotta work next week, no fun!).
So the new year in Orleans started splendidly, i.e. three inches of snow and -4 degree weather. It snowed all day monday, the day I moved into my new apartement (read sliding on ice/snow with luggage is not fun). But now I live in the center of town and have heat and internet, yay!!!