French class day 2: already exhausted!

Today's French class lesson consisted of an exercise on accents, reading Camus' acceptance speech for the Nobel Prize, and listening to Jacques Brel (my French teacher adooores Jacques Brel). After feeling exhausted and ready to sip a hot chocolate and take a nap, I ran over the the resto u for some salad, sausage, veggies, mashed potatoes, and a raspberry tart thinking that a full stomach would wake me up. It did.... until the Art History professor showed us slides of some of the art we will see this weekend in Provence. When the lights went down, my eyelids got exponentially heavier.

After class, I hit up some supermarchés to grab some ingredients for the caprese salads that Taylor and I were planning to make. 1 kg of tomatoes for 1 EUR is not too bad....

When I start feeling more rested, I'll update with some more interesting information, but I don't think I'm going to be doing much before Friday morning when we leave for AIX, Marseille, Cassis, Saint-Rémy, and Avignon.

Total Damages today:

Breakfast of Madeleines: ,80 EUR
Lunch at Resto U: 2,90 EUR
1 kg tomatoes: 1 EUR
Pesto: 1,53 EUR
Mozzarella balls: ,89 EUR each (I bought 2 = 1,78 EUR)

1st Day of French Class

This morning I got up at 7, did my morning routine, and was out the door just before nine so that I could be ready to buy another 1,33 EUR bottle of champagne at the grocery store right when the doors open. Mimosas anyone? I could really get used to this...

When it got close to 10, I decided to take my refreshed and bundled up self out to the Cimetiere du Montparnasse and hung out with the late great writers, photographers, and philosophers who rest there. On Simone de Beauvoir and Sartre's grave, there were so many little notes that people had written about how much these two people had changed their lives. Considering that it rained last night, these must have all come from this morning -- that means before 10am when I arrived there. I thought about how many people might have written such notes over a lifetime and it boggled my mind.

After my jaunt about the cimetiere, I met my program for lunch at the Resto U, curtosy of SLC. We went into a different dining room today, and I didn't like it quite as much as the one I usually frequent, but there were a lot more chairs and the deserts and salads were relatively the same.

After a delicious raspberry tart and a quick walk back to Reid Hall, I began my first day of French class with my new French teacher, Mme Roland-Gosselin. She is extremely French. We began the class with a dictation, and she had us go up to the chalkboard in front of the class to write it. If you have never been in a classroom outside of the US, this appears to be cruel and unusual punishment. However, Mme Roland-Gosselin is a sweetheart -- this is just how they do things in France, apparently. I love that since she hasn't quite learned all of our names yet, she calls us all "mon chéri" or variations of the sort.

Mme Roland-Gosselin informed us that we must have a classeur à anneaux, so I went over to Gibert-Joseph to get one. Let me take the time to inform you, in case you didn't know and don't want to look like the dumb confused American when you ask a salesperson for help like I did, that 3 ring binders in France do not exist. They have 4 rings. And you wouldn't want a 3 ring binder here anyway because the hole punchers punch 4 holes. If you wanted to bring any school supplies with you to France, think again!

Feeling much more educated, I left Gibert-Joseph with the 3,80 EUR binder and headed down towards the Seine. I've enjoyed walking when I have the time, since it is very easy and much more beautiful that the Metro. The street Saint Michel (where Gibert-Joseph is) leads me right to the Seine where I hook a right, walk till I hit Notre Dame, hook a left and walk all the way down to my apartment. Easy, right?

When I got back home, I did my French homework and made some dinner. I'm feeling pretty exhausted now because, even though I didn't walk that much today, I did get up pretty early. I think I might call it a night. Tomorrow brings more of Mme Roland-Gosselin and a presentation about our upcoming trip to le sud (the south of France)!

Total damages:
1 bottle of Champagne: 1,33 EUR
1 binder (4 rings): 3,80 EUR

A night on rue princesse and at Cab

Last night I went out with Taylor and her friends from Trinity College. Everybody had a great time but of course I was the dorky one and most enjoyed the part of the evening when I got to pick up on French phrases from French people willing to amuse me for a couple of hours. They were really delighted that I was so interested and I ended up speaking the most French that I have spoken yet.

French phrases learned:

"Pétiller" as in, "les yeux pétille": the eyes sparkle, like when you're looking at a person you desire. The French man who taught me this one explained the phrase as, "it's like the bubbles in champagne are in her eyes."

"Il joue sur plusieurs tableaux": he's hitting on all the girls, he's playing the field. Let's just say French bars make for great people watching.

"Pichenette": A little flick made with the thumb and forfinger. The boys seemed to have a game where they would flick each other in the nose.

I must have heard meuf and mec/ type about a thousand times. And a bunch of other argot and verlan that I couldn't quite understand. I asked the guys about it and how often they use it. They told me that people only use it casually and rarely use more than a couple words. However, when I asked them how they felt about l'Acadamie Française, they all emphatically told me, "fuck l'Acadamie Française" and "we never speak the way they say we should … except when we need to get a job." I find it interesting that just a couple words can be seen as definant here, and a couple more can indicate one's social class and background.

All around Paris are reminders of the resistance in WWII and memorials to the French revolution, a time when the people were successful in changing the language, even if by just a few words. I wonder if these young men aren't just a greater part of that resistance mentality -- I wonder if maybe they secretly love l'Academie Français for giving them something to exercise that mentality on.

I think I'm done with the whole Paris party scene for now, but I'm glad I went because I got to use my French a lot. I actually enjoyed the first bar we went to (it helped that they were playing Michael Jackson). However, all of these dance clubs just seem a little too "exclusive," a quality which I have never adored about anything. When we went to Cab, it felt really cool to cut the line and get right in, but I couldn't help but think that this place was filled with more losers than at the bar. Everyone was so dressed up at Cab but the guys reeked of cologne, the girls couldn't dance, and no one was smiling. You couldn't hear yourself talk over the music (which was Amercian anyway), so no one communicated except through some vague interpretation of sign language. Don't get me wrong -- I like dancing -- but this place was full people who thought they were way too cool and I found myself missing that little pub on rue de princesse with the 3 guys who were just happy sitting around and talking to 4 American girls in French.

"Um, oui?"

So I just had the most embarrassing experience trying to communicate with the man who works at the bank where I just opened up an account. His very limited English and my very limited knowledge of French financial vocabulary combined to create one of the most interesting conversations I've had in years. After a while, I got used to just miming things and nodding my head. He must have thought that I was a complete idiot.

Other fun news. Apparently in France, when you open an account with a bank, you have to go to the post office to sign something after a week in order for them to open the account. I asked the man which post office to go to, he smiled a little and basically said the French equivalent of "good question." I'm beginning to wonder if this whole bank account thing wasn't a good idea after all. I really wanted to be able to write checks for my rent, but I wont even get my checks until 2 weeks after I sign that paper at the mystery post office...

I've contacted my landlord for some help... we'll see :)