Oyyy, what a week! Thank you guys so much for commenting and encouraging me. :) Since I have food on the brain, I’m going to compare my moving day last weekend to ice cream: smooth, but frozen. I use frozen in the sense of “ow, my fingers are going to fall off from rolling this suitcase to the car because it’s 30 degrees outside” as well as in the sense that Jacqueline couldn’t have been more cold towards me if she tried. (I’m pretty sure she *did* try, but anyway.) I stopped by a florist shop just down the street from the house (after I got lost taking a different road...but that’s beside the point) with the goal of finding a special plant or flower bouquet for Jacqueline. It was the day before Valentine’s Day, so it wasn’t too difficult. I happened to find a purple hyacinth bulb in a water-filled glass vase on the outdoor display table for only 6 euros, and I felt like it was meant just for her. After all, she was always talking about her garden and about how she adores the color purple. The florist shop even wrapped it up in cellophane with a pink ribbon -- for free! I left it on my desk with the key to the room before I went upstairs to tell her goodbye. She shoved my rent refund in my hand and all but demanded to know where the key was, and she wasn’t happy to find out that I’d left it on my desk. I followed her downstairs and listened to her huff about the things I hadn’t picked up to carry outside yet (because I could obviously carry all of them at one time), and then she told me to take the plant, too. I told her it was for her, and she almost yelled “NO” at me. Fortunately, I was able to convince her to accept it as a Valentine’s Day gift and a “thank you” for her hospitality. Maybe it will truly be a sign of kindness to her; I don’t know. In any case, I think it was the right thing to do.
I’m happy to report that making the adjustment to my new room has been superbly easy! Even while I was unpacking, I knew that I was going to feel a lot more at home here because I could hear Jocelyn, my new hostess, cranking up the French rock music and singing along while she did housework downstairs. She is quite energetic and spontaneous, but very motherly as well. And, the Chinese girl who already lives here is super-friendly, too! The location is perfect - right next to the convenience grocery store, bakery, patisserie, supermarket, the bus stop, and the bank. :)
I must say that I’m a little scared to use the kitchen, but I’ve managed to do it once without messing anything up. She has just finished remodeling it, so all of the appliances are new, including the induction stovetop. She’s very particular about it, but not in the same way that Jacqueline was particular about things. From talking to her (and even through my encounters with Jacqueline), I’ve also become a lot more aware of the general emphasis in France on being environmentally friendly. Part of it is due to the high cost of energy; part of it is due to a heightened sense of responsibility to the environment that we don’t have in the United States. I’m looking forward to learning a new kind of lifestyle, but it does seem a little daunting at first, trying to learn these new habits. I have trouble remembering what’s recyclable and what isn’t, remembering to be more careful about how much light and heat I use, and remembering not to turn the water on all the way when a small amount will suffice. I’m even learning to take even shorter showers and to do little bits of laundry by hand, which is definitely something to get used to.
Have I mentioned that I can’t wait to go to Paris this weekend? Kendra and I, along with our new friend Laura, will be taking the train there Saturday morning and staying until Monday night, when Kendra and I will take a late train to Marseilles. We got an awesome deal on the tickets - first class for less than the price of second class! That’s what the 12-25 pass can get you. It pays to be young sometimes! That said, it was still a bit of a headache trying to find all the tickets and accommodations...but it's done. After a few days in Marseilles, the plan is to head up to Strasbourg for the rest of our week-long vacation. I’m really looking forward to seeing the monuments and tasting the foods that I’ve heard about for so long! Also, a couple of new friends have invited Kendra and I to visit their hometowns for a weekend later in the semester, too, which is super nice. :) It will be our chance to see Nantes and the region of Bretagne.
Fortunately, I’ve also had a chance to experience more of what life has to offer here in Angers over the past week. Friday night, some new friends invited Kendra and I to join them at McDonald’s before heading to a local pub to watch another friend play in his band. Just a little side note here: happy meals in France are the bomb! Cheeseburger, fries, drink, AND dessert. They NEVER skip dessert. (It’s not as unhealthy as it sounds, though. Usually it’s fruit, fruit compote, a light creme anglaise, mousse, or light cakes. It’s not always very sugary.) Anyway, the evening at the pub was entertaining, to say the least. I enjoyed the band, but the most memorable event of the night was probably when a completely inebriated man tried to hit on me. I was with a group of French friends who made sure he minded his own business, so don’t worry - I was fine. Honestly, I found it quite amusing, being asked to talk in a Texan accent by a guy who couldn’t tell whether he was talking in English or French.
Saturday, I had the opportunity to hang out with the ‘singles’ group at church for an evening of singing, bible study, breton-style galettes, and crêpes. Goodness, I ate so much. Galettes are thin pancakes (like crêpes), made with a darker wheat flour and filled with your choice of fillings: mushrooms, eggs, cheese, turkey, bacon, tomatoes, etc. Crêpes are their sweeter counterpart, made with white flour and filled with your choice of nutella, peanut butter, jams, honey, sugar, etc. They just keep passing the plate around until they’re gone! Ohhhh, it’s like heaven. Anyway, visiting with everyone makes Angers seem much more like home. Being with other Christians and developing those friendships is encouraging and refreshing, and I love being there every week. I’m sad that I’ll have to miss for the next couple of weeks because of vacation!
Sunday evening, I enjoyed a short organ concert in St-Maurice Cathedral and hung out with some friends at a cozy little restaurant. I tried an odd little carbonated beverage called Schweppes that tasted of bitter grapefruit and citrus. I’ll try just about anything once, but I don’t think I’ll be ordering that again.
Monday...was a good day. I tried to take care of some paperwork, but I found that a lot of stores and offices are closed on Mondays (and pretty much whenever they decide to be). So, I took a grand walking tour instead - finding quiet historic backstreets, getting my first up-close look at the Chateau, discovering perfect hidden parks, taking note of future picnic spots, walking across and then along the quay by the Maine river, watching people. My knee has been healing nicely, and this week, it has been nearly pain-free. :) (Thank you all for covering it with your prayers!) I took tons of pictures, so hopefully I’ll be able to upload them soon. One thing I’ve found especially amazing? The fact that I can be walking down a busy street, my ears filled with the sounds of sirens wailing and people chattering, but with one step through an iron gate coated with peeling green paint, everything can suddenly be completely still. It’s like walking through the wardrobe, into a green, peaceful sanctuary. You think I’m exaggerating, but really - it’s a night and day difference. They have an extensive system of city parks, some of them large, some tiny, and some tucked away so that foreigners like me just happen upon them by chance.
Another interesting thing I’ve noticed? Every city in France seems to have a Victor Hugo street. Rue Victor Hugo must be the French equivalent of JFK Boulevard. :P
The rest of the week has had its ups and downs. Kendra and I watched the second installment of “Kirikou” Tuesday night over peanut butter and jelly sandwiches...but she came down with the stomach bug later that night, so I haven’t seen her since. :( Classes were rough Wednesday, probably because it’s my longest day, but things were better after I got home and tested out a new recipe. Lentil soup with vegetables - because I was absolutely craving some real nourishment. It’s hard to find vegetables to eat!! They eat more bread and cheese, especially in the winter. I can’t keep that up for long before I have to have some variety, no matter how good the bread is. Today, I got the results back from my first “contrôle” - translation test. I scored an 11 out of 20, which is enough to pass. I’m actually quite content to have earned that on my first assessment, after having been in class for two weeks. It’s encouraging to know that I’m off to a good start (at least in that class!).
Well, it’s late, and this entry is already long enough (very much so), so I’ll wrap it up and write another entry later to talk about some of my cultural observations. For some reason, I’ve racked up quite a few this week: some from very insightful and informative conversations, and some from good old-fashioned people-watching. ;) I’ll leave you with this blessing tonight from Psalm 34:
1 I will extol the LORD at all times; his praise will always be on my lips.
2 My soul will boast in the LORD; let the afflicted hear and rejoice.
3 Glorify the LORD with me; let us exalt his name together.
4 I sought the LORD, and he answered me;
he delivered me from all my fears.
5 Those who look to him are radiant; their faces are never covered with shame.
6 This poor man called, and the LORD heard him;
he saved him out of all his troubles.
7 The angel of the LORD encamps around those who fear him,
and he delivers them.
8 Taste and see that the LORD is good; blessed is the man who takes refuge in him.
Thursday, February 18, 2010
Tuesday, February 9, 2010
only two days?!
My life here changes so quickly, and I forget you guys are in the dark until I update you! The biggest news is that I'm moving to a different house on Saturday (and Saturday can't come quickly enough!). The past few days have been really rough, but I've learned some important lessons.
Yesterday morning, I paid a visit to another family to take a look at my second housing option. It was definitely agreeable, but not quite what I wanted in the long run. I didn't want to be tied down to obligatory family dinners every night, and to be honest, the room was rather cramped. I liked the flexibility, privacy, and space of the other room - and it costs less too, because food is available on a pay-as-you-go basis. And, I can still have contact with the family without it becoming a hindrance. Anyway...I came home and asked Jacqueline if she'd gone to the university to talk with the housing department, and I honestly wasn't prepared for the tirade that followed. She spent a good ten or fifteen minutes on it, and I'm not sure exactly when she came up for air. She had to show me the paper from the university which outlined all the rules she could make and that she was going to implement in the future because of her bad experience with me. Then she told me how she was going to begin counting down my "one month's notice" from yesterday, the 8th, not the 6th, when I first talked to her, so that I would owe her for some of March's rent in addition to the February rent I'd already paid. She informed me in no uncertain terms that I would pay her for one-third of March's rent (even though I only owed for 8 days), and when I tried to ask her why she didn't divide the rent by four (since there are four weeks in a month, not three), she told me it wouldn't work because that would add up to 32 days in March and "there aren't 32 days in March, so you'll pay me a third." I just let that go, because there wasn't any use in arguing, which left her free to explain to me that if another student became available to take my place anytime before the 8th of March, I would be forced to leave. And then she continued by asking me why I wanted to go to the trouble of leaving anyway, for just a few months. I tried to explain the difficulty of living so far from the university, and wanting to make sure I was safe at night, and she threw it back at me by saying, "Well, you come home late every night, so I can't understand why you'd be concerned about that!" My attempts at explaining the difficulties with the bus were futile, because she just assumed a condescending tone and told me to get to the bus stop on time and make a signal to the bus, because "it's that simple! The busses don't wait for Grace, you know." Her tone really hurt my feelings, especially when she made the dig at my sense of responsibility, because I've been trying so hard to do my best at figuring out a new country and staying safe at the same time. Then she had to twist the knife by telling me that I have parents who take care of me and she doesn't, even though I tried to explain that they're not rich, either. She honestly didn't want to listen to anything I said. By the time she had finished with me, all I could do was walk down the stairs and collapse on my bed. It was 6am in Arkansas, but Dad was awake, so I started a video chat and burst into tears. I'm so thankful for him. He listened, and reminded me that it wasn't about me, and reassured me that he would support me in whatever I needed to do. That, and an awesome chat with Ian, Caleb, Matt, and Max, helped me pull myself together, and go up to the university to talk with the housing office myself. Let me tell you -- I did SO much praying on the way there!
So, I explained my situation to the ladies in the office, and they chuckled a bit before reassuring me that she couldn't actually make good on any of her threats. She can't make me move out before the 8th, and she can't make me pay extra rent. By the time I walked out of that office, I had not only made my decision to move to the house that I mentioned before (which is closer to the university than the other one and closer to Kendra, too) but made arrangements to move this Saturday. And - get this - I found out that because they can replace me with another student on the 22nd, Jacqueline owes ME money! Yes, after all that we went through...she owes me rent for the part of February I won't be living here. I was laughing out loud when I walked out the door, and I'm sure everyone outside was wondering what was wrong with this crazy girl, laughing at nothing and no one. Well, that's not exactly true. I was laughing at God's sense of humor, and reveling in the joy of knowing that He answered my prayer (in the most ironic way I could think of, no less!). Anyway, I had another little conversation with Jacqueline that night when I got home from choir practice, and I asked her what the university had said when they called (because they called as I left the office). She said she knew that I was leaving Saturday, but that they hadn't said anything else in particular. Funny...it seems there was one other thing they mentioned.....
Anyway, she's made a point of making my life miserable since then. She confronted me about using the heater in my kitchen downstairs when I wasn't cooking, saying that it was entirely too warm down there and I was wasting energy. I tried to explain that my room was cold, so I was just using my computer there for a little while to eat and stay warm, but she wouldn't have any of it. I could see it wasn't going anywhere, so after she'd thoroughly said her piece, I just said I was sorry, and she told me she didn't want me to say I was sorry because "that doesn't mean anything. I just want you to comport yourself normally, and not heat rooms excessively. That's just unacceptable." I tried to explain that when I said I was sorry, that meant I was sorry and I would try to respect her better in the future...but I don't think she really understood. All I could do was just tell her thank you and walk away before I said something out of anger. In any case, the drama continued today when I was sitting in the kitchen after cooking lunch. I only had one heater on, and it was pleasant but not too warm (by any means) in the kitchen, and I was cooking and eating, not anything else, so I thought I was following her instructions. Still, I cringed when I heard her coming, and for good reason. As soon as she opened the door, she hit the light switch and started huffing as she crossed the room about how it was surely "warm enough" in there. I tried to talk to her before she went outside to let the dogs go to the bathroom, but she told me to wait, so I just got up and turned the light back on. :P I had to stop her on her way back through to ask her if there was a problem, and she asked me why I needed the light on to eat. I admit that I told her liked to see what I was eating (because obviously, it's not an extravagant measure to turn the light on when you're eating lunch), to which she responded with another lecture about not wasting energy, and about how much energy costs in France (she didn't know about the US) and how when she was young they only turned things on when they needed them. *sigh* She told me I could do work upstairs in order to save energy downstairs, so I took her at her word and did some homework upstairs while she was gone this afternoon. Unfortunately, she didn't tell me I wasn't allowed to drink coffee in the living room, so she made a huffy comment about that, too, when she got home - after she told me to move to the other chair so she could sit on the couch. (Because it's not like I wouldn't have moved if she had just asked...)
Anyway, after all of the drama of yesterday and today, I was just exhausted. It started weighing on me more and more, and I started taking it personally. It's tough when every time you try to fix one problem, someone is coming along behind you, obsessively searching for another one to point out. I honestly think that she should write a rule book that details the "right way" to do everything in her house, from the exact measurement of force necessary to shut off the water faucet properly to how many minutes one can use a light bulb until it becomes "excessive" to which kind of sponge is acceptable for washing pans as opposed to dishes. (Yes, Soni told me that Jacqueline informed her there is a difference.)
So, why do I relate all of this? First of all, it's NOT to complain or to make you hate her. I just needed to be honest about what's been going on in my life and to let you know what's been happening so my other updates don't sound odd and out of context. Second of all, it IS to provide a background for the lessons I have learned. A friend of mine reminded me today that it's easy to become bitter in situations like these, and that I should be careful to guard my heart so that bitterness doesn't creep in. He was absolutely right, and I realized that I needed to repent of some of that already. Since then, I've asked the Holy Spirit to renew my mind so that I can reflect his love instead of project my selfish desire for the kind of treatment I think I "deserve." Please pray for Jacqueline. People who treat others the way she does, people who live only by the rules with no hope for grace, can't have truly experienced the love, mercy, and grace of God in their own lives.
That said, I'm still looking forward to moving on Saturday. Maybe then I'll be able to better settle into a routine and be able to focus more on my studies without being mentally and emotionally weighed down by the turmoil in the house. I feel like I haven't given proper attention to homework...but then again, there really hasn't been much that I would actually call "homework." It's more like self-directed learning. No quizzes, no tests, no assignments that count for anything right now. Of course, it's better to stay prepared, but I think I can allow myself this grace period, considering that it's taken me a couple of weeks to *find* the right classes, I've had an injured knee to contend with, and now I've been faced with landlady issues. It's a lot to handle. It'll all be fine. :)
Oh sweet, I just remembered class starts a little later tomorrow, so that gives me some time to sleep - awesome. I hope you all are enjoying your snow days (those of you in Arkansas or Virginia). It snowed this afternoon here, but nothing stuck. It's just bitterly cold! I'm staying properly fueled with plenty of French bread, cheese, and chocolate, though, so don't worry about me. ;)
And thanks for reading this...whoever actually read all the way to the end...and leave me a comment if you have time so I know I'm not writing into thin air. ;) I love hearing from you guys. Bisous!
Yesterday morning, I paid a visit to another family to take a look at my second housing option. It was definitely agreeable, but not quite what I wanted in the long run. I didn't want to be tied down to obligatory family dinners every night, and to be honest, the room was rather cramped. I liked the flexibility, privacy, and space of the other room - and it costs less too, because food is available on a pay-as-you-go basis. And, I can still have contact with the family without it becoming a hindrance. Anyway...I came home and asked Jacqueline if she'd gone to the university to talk with the housing department, and I honestly wasn't prepared for the tirade that followed. She spent a good ten or fifteen minutes on it, and I'm not sure exactly when she came up for air. She had to show me the paper from the university which outlined all the rules she could make and that she was going to implement in the future because of her bad experience with me. Then she told me how she was going to begin counting down my "one month's notice" from yesterday, the 8th, not the 6th, when I first talked to her, so that I would owe her for some of March's rent in addition to the February rent I'd already paid. She informed me in no uncertain terms that I would pay her for one-third of March's rent (even though I only owed for 8 days), and when I tried to ask her why she didn't divide the rent by four (since there are four weeks in a month, not three), she told me it wouldn't work because that would add up to 32 days in March and "there aren't 32 days in March, so you'll pay me a third." I just let that go, because there wasn't any use in arguing, which left her free to explain to me that if another student became available to take my place anytime before the 8th of March, I would be forced to leave. And then she continued by asking me why I wanted to go to the trouble of leaving anyway, for just a few months. I tried to explain the difficulty of living so far from the university, and wanting to make sure I was safe at night, and she threw it back at me by saying, "Well, you come home late every night, so I can't understand why you'd be concerned about that!" My attempts at explaining the difficulties with the bus were futile, because she just assumed a condescending tone and told me to get to the bus stop on time and make a signal to the bus, because "it's that simple! The busses don't wait for Grace, you know." Her tone really hurt my feelings, especially when she made the dig at my sense of responsibility, because I've been trying so hard to do my best at figuring out a new country and staying safe at the same time. Then she had to twist the knife by telling me that I have parents who take care of me and she doesn't, even though I tried to explain that they're not rich, either. She honestly didn't want to listen to anything I said. By the time she had finished with me, all I could do was walk down the stairs and collapse on my bed. It was 6am in Arkansas, but Dad was awake, so I started a video chat and burst into tears. I'm so thankful for him. He listened, and reminded me that it wasn't about me, and reassured me that he would support me in whatever I needed to do. That, and an awesome chat with Ian, Caleb, Matt, and Max, helped me pull myself together, and go up to the university to talk with the housing office myself. Let me tell you -- I did SO much praying on the way there!
So, I explained my situation to the ladies in the office, and they chuckled a bit before reassuring me that she couldn't actually make good on any of her threats. She can't make me move out before the 8th, and she can't make me pay extra rent. By the time I walked out of that office, I had not only made my decision to move to the house that I mentioned before (which is closer to the university than the other one and closer to Kendra, too) but made arrangements to move this Saturday. And - get this - I found out that because they can replace me with another student on the 22nd, Jacqueline owes ME money! Yes, after all that we went through...she owes me rent for the part of February I won't be living here. I was laughing out loud when I walked out the door, and I'm sure everyone outside was wondering what was wrong with this crazy girl, laughing at nothing and no one. Well, that's not exactly true. I was laughing at God's sense of humor, and reveling in the joy of knowing that He answered my prayer (in the most ironic way I could think of, no less!). Anyway, I had another little conversation with Jacqueline that night when I got home from choir practice, and I asked her what the university had said when they called (because they called as I left the office). She said she knew that I was leaving Saturday, but that they hadn't said anything else in particular. Funny...it seems there was one other thing they mentioned.....
Anyway, she's made a point of making my life miserable since then. She confronted me about using the heater in my kitchen downstairs when I wasn't cooking, saying that it was entirely too warm down there and I was wasting energy. I tried to explain that my room was cold, so I was just using my computer there for a little while to eat and stay warm, but she wouldn't have any of it. I could see it wasn't going anywhere, so after she'd thoroughly said her piece, I just said I was sorry, and she told me she didn't want me to say I was sorry because "that doesn't mean anything. I just want you to comport yourself normally, and not heat rooms excessively. That's just unacceptable." I tried to explain that when I said I was sorry, that meant I was sorry and I would try to respect her better in the future...but I don't think she really understood. All I could do was just tell her thank you and walk away before I said something out of anger. In any case, the drama continued today when I was sitting in the kitchen after cooking lunch. I only had one heater on, and it was pleasant but not too warm (by any means) in the kitchen, and I was cooking and eating, not anything else, so I thought I was following her instructions. Still, I cringed when I heard her coming, and for good reason. As soon as she opened the door, she hit the light switch and started huffing as she crossed the room about how it was surely "warm enough" in there. I tried to talk to her before she went outside to let the dogs go to the bathroom, but she told me to wait, so I just got up and turned the light back on. :P I had to stop her on her way back through to ask her if there was a problem, and she asked me why I needed the light on to eat. I admit that I told her liked to see what I was eating (because obviously, it's not an extravagant measure to turn the light on when you're eating lunch), to which she responded with another lecture about not wasting energy, and about how much energy costs in France (she didn't know about the US) and how when she was young they only turned things on when they needed them. *sigh* She told me I could do work upstairs in order to save energy downstairs, so I took her at her word and did some homework upstairs while she was gone this afternoon. Unfortunately, she didn't tell me I wasn't allowed to drink coffee in the living room, so she made a huffy comment about that, too, when she got home - after she told me to move to the other chair so she could sit on the couch. (Because it's not like I wouldn't have moved if she had just asked...)
Anyway, after all of the drama of yesterday and today, I was just exhausted. It started weighing on me more and more, and I started taking it personally. It's tough when every time you try to fix one problem, someone is coming along behind you, obsessively searching for another one to point out. I honestly think that she should write a rule book that details the "right way" to do everything in her house, from the exact measurement of force necessary to shut off the water faucet properly to how many minutes one can use a light bulb until it becomes "excessive" to which kind of sponge is acceptable for washing pans as opposed to dishes. (Yes, Soni told me that Jacqueline informed her there is a difference.)
So, why do I relate all of this? First of all, it's NOT to complain or to make you hate her. I just needed to be honest about what's been going on in my life and to let you know what's been happening so my other updates don't sound odd and out of context. Second of all, it IS to provide a background for the lessons I have learned. A friend of mine reminded me today that it's easy to become bitter in situations like these, and that I should be careful to guard my heart so that bitterness doesn't creep in. He was absolutely right, and I realized that I needed to repent of some of that already. Since then, I've asked the Holy Spirit to renew my mind so that I can reflect his love instead of project my selfish desire for the kind of treatment I think I "deserve." Please pray for Jacqueline. People who treat others the way she does, people who live only by the rules with no hope for grace, can't have truly experienced the love, mercy, and grace of God in their own lives.
That said, I'm still looking forward to moving on Saturday. Maybe then I'll be able to better settle into a routine and be able to focus more on my studies without being mentally and emotionally weighed down by the turmoil in the house. I feel like I haven't given proper attention to homework...but then again, there really hasn't been much that I would actually call "homework." It's more like self-directed learning. No quizzes, no tests, no assignments that count for anything right now. Of course, it's better to stay prepared, but I think I can allow myself this grace period, considering that it's taken me a couple of weeks to *find* the right classes, I've had an injured knee to contend with, and now I've been faced with landlady issues. It's a lot to handle. It'll all be fine. :)
Oh sweet, I just remembered class starts a little later tomorrow, so that gives me some time to sleep - awesome. I hope you all are enjoying your snow days (those of you in Arkansas or Virginia). It snowed this afternoon here, but nothing stuck. It's just bitterly cold! I'm staying properly fueled with plenty of French bread, cheese, and chocolate, though, so don't worry about me. ;)
And thanks for reading this...whoever actually read all the way to the end...and leave me a comment if you have time so I know I'm not writing into thin air. ;) I love hearing from you guys. Bisous!
Saturday, February 6, 2010
updates on housing and my knee
So...I came home Friday night after cramming my head full of architectural terms pertaining to cathedrals and chateaus in class. (That vocabulary will be the death of me.) However, I do find it interesting to be able now to hold an intelligent and informed conversation about the differences between abbeys, cathedrals, and churches, and what each part of the architecture symbolizes or how each part functions. I’m also becoming more familiar with the unique styles belonging to roman, gothic, baroque, and neo-roman eras. Anyway, I hadn’t eaten dinner yet, but I couldn’t let my mind rest until I’d talked to Jacqueline about moving. I finally gathered up the courage to go talk to her, thinking that, after all, she and I had been developing a rapport, and she might at least be understanding of my reasoning if I explained well that I didn’t have a problem with her, just the distance/safety.
Nope.
Definitely not the outcome I was hoping for.
As soon as I’d finished trying to explain, her face turned stony and she stopped making eye contact with me, opting to address the TV across the room instead. Then for the next five minutes, if I heard it once, I heard it ten times: “I’ll just have to go up to the university myself on Monday. This just won’t do. I kept that room for you. The university told me I would have two students, and I have to have two students. It simply won’t work any other way. I have to go up to the university on Monday to talk to them.” I tried my best to explain that I was grateful for how she’d taken care of me, and my main reason for needing to move was safety. To that she responded with another monologue about how none of her other students have ever had any trouble with the busses, and there shouldn’t be any problem for me. After all, she said, there are busses in the evening so you don’t have to walk. I tried to explain again what I’ve told her before: that there is only one bus per hour after 9pm that can bring me back to my stop, and I’ve tried twice to take it -- and it didn’t stop for me either time. I explained that I can’t take that kind of risk all the time. Her response was, “Well, they have to stop! And if you aren’t there on time, just walk with your friends or wait at the bus stop for the hour until the next one.” I just couldn’t find a gentle way to make her understand the fact that it doesn’t matter if the busses are supposed to stop; what matters is whether they DO or not. And, I don’t have friends who can wait for me at the stop all the time, especially if they’re trying to stay safe themselves, and no one else goes my direction anyway. What’s more, I’d like to see HER sit at the bus stop for an hour when it’s 10:30pm and 35 degrees outside. (Actually, I don’t literally want to see that - I just want her to actually comprehend what I’m talking about.) :P I think she’s living in her own world, and I can’t get in. What I realized is that she doesn’t *want* to understand. She just wants my rent, and she wants things to unfold the way they’re *supposed* to unfold, according to her neat, tidy, perfect little plan. Just like every door has to be closed, every pan situated correctly, every window just so, and the cleaning has to be done like clockwork. Mom likened her to the old woman in Pollyanna. :P Personally, I feel like Anne of Green Gables, except I haven’t found the sweet side of Marilla yet. I know it’s there...somewhere...but I feel like God’s saying He wants me somewhere else. Even if I move, though, I think I could stay in contact. I hope that we can continue to have a relationship. Maybe I can visit her to help tend her garden every now and then. I was looking forward to that.
Anyway, I did visit the house that is closest to the university today. The owner was extremely nice, and she didn’t seem like an austere, rule-driven kind of taskmaster when it came to keeping house and taking care of renters. She even told me that she does laundry for her guests for a small fee - much less than the 10+ euros I would pay at the laundromat! The rent is just a bit higher than what I pay now, but the price and frequency of the meals would be flexible. The neighborhood is charming. The skylight in the bedroom offers a view of a local cathedral. The bedroom even has its own microwave and mini-fridge, lots of storage space, a bigger bed, and lots of room to move around. And...an adjustable radiator! HEAT!!! Anyway, I’m thinking that it sounds like a great option, but I would appreciate prayer that God would make it super clear what I should do. It’s not being held for me, so if He doesn’t hold it for me until Monday, I guess I’ll know that he meant “no.” The owners of the other house are out of town until Monday, so I can’t pay them a visit yet, and Jacqueline can’t have her “talk” with the university officials until then anyway. So, Monday will be the big day.
Oh, and I did pay a visit to the doctor this morning. It was surprisingly pleasant and not at all unnerving. (I felt kind of like a little kid going to the doctor for the first time. :P A language barrier can make any experience seem new, unfamiliar, and scary.) She told me that it seems like I have a bruised bone, which is why it has been causing me pain for so long. It will still take several weeks for it to heal completely. She gave a prescription for some cream and pain relievers, though. The crazy thing is that the visit only cost me 22 euros, and the prescriptions were only about 7 euros together. Crazy, these French people are. Anyway, at least now I know that I don’t have pieces of bone floating around, or torn cartilage, or something awful like that. Bone bruises are painful, but they heal eventually, and I can still walk on it without doing damage. As Caitlin told me, God must have thought I needed an extra challenge here in France, so he gave me a handicap for this level. Is it sad that I then started comparing my life to Halo? “Yeah, I shouldn’t have gone for the triple kill on that heroic campaign - you know, last semester. God’s making me play France on legendary now.” :P I suppose I could also make some Mario references...like, it sure would be nice to find some star power or some mushrooms right now. I like the green ones, but the red ones are good too.
Anyway, I’m pretty exhausted after all of that, plus an hour of wandering around trying to find Kendra's house (which looks totally different in the daylight), an afternoon of vacation planning and then a wonderful dinner with said Kendra. ;) We had a fantastically long dinner, complete with some deep and encouraging conversation. :) It made me happy. That happiness was somewhat diminished by my hour-long wait for a bus, and then my 20 minute wait IN that unheated bus at the next terminal, though. (Don’t ask me why it stops for 20 minutes...right after you get on.) In any case, I was glad for a hot shower when I got home, and now I’m quite content snuggled down under my covers where it’s warm. And I’m looking forward to church tomorrow!! :D
Much love! Bisous!
Nope.
Definitely not the outcome I was hoping for.
As soon as I’d finished trying to explain, her face turned stony and she stopped making eye contact with me, opting to address the TV across the room instead. Then for the next five minutes, if I heard it once, I heard it ten times: “I’ll just have to go up to the university myself on Monday. This just won’t do. I kept that room for you. The university told me I would have two students, and I have to have two students. It simply won’t work any other way. I have to go up to the university on Monday to talk to them.” I tried my best to explain that I was grateful for how she’d taken care of me, and my main reason for needing to move was safety. To that she responded with another monologue about how none of her other students have ever had any trouble with the busses, and there shouldn’t be any problem for me. After all, she said, there are busses in the evening so you don’t have to walk. I tried to explain again what I’ve told her before: that there is only one bus per hour after 9pm that can bring me back to my stop, and I’ve tried twice to take it -- and it didn’t stop for me either time. I explained that I can’t take that kind of risk all the time. Her response was, “Well, they have to stop! And if you aren’t there on time, just walk with your friends or wait at the bus stop for the hour until the next one.” I just couldn’t find a gentle way to make her understand the fact that it doesn’t matter if the busses are supposed to stop; what matters is whether they DO or not. And, I don’t have friends who can wait for me at the stop all the time, especially if they’re trying to stay safe themselves, and no one else goes my direction anyway. What’s more, I’d like to see HER sit at the bus stop for an hour when it’s 10:30pm and 35 degrees outside. (Actually, I don’t literally want to see that - I just want her to actually comprehend what I’m talking about.) :P I think she’s living in her own world, and I can’t get in. What I realized is that she doesn’t *want* to understand. She just wants my rent, and she wants things to unfold the way they’re *supposed* to unfold, according to her neat, tidy, perfect little plan. Just like every door has to be closed, every pan situated correctly, every window just so, and the cleaning has to be done like clockwork. Mom likened her to the old woman in Pollyanna. :P Personally, I feel like Anne of Green Gables, except I haven’t found the sweet side of Marilla yet. I know it’s there...somewhere...but I feel like God’s saying He wants me somewhere else. Even if I move, though, I think I could stay in contact. I hope that we can continue to have a relationship. Maybe I can visit her to help tend her garden every now and then. I was looking forward to that.
Anyway, I did visit the house that is closest to the university today. The owner was extremely nice, and she didn’t seem like an austere, rule-driven kind of taskmaster when it came to keeping house and taking care of renters. She even told me that she does laundry for her guests for a small fee - much less than the 10+ euros I would pay at the laundromat! The rent is just a bit higher than what I pay now, but the price and frequency of the meals would be flexible. The neighborhood is charming. The skylight in the bedroom offers a view of a local cathedral. The bedroom even has its own microwave and mini-fridge, lots of storage space, a bigger bed, and lots of room to move around. And...an adjustable radiator! HEAT!!! Anyway, I’m thinking that it sounds like a great option, but I would appreciate prayer that God would make it super clear what I should do. It’s not being held for me, so if He doesn’t hold it for me until Monday, I guess I’ll know that he meant “no.” The owners of the other house are out of town until Monday, so I can’t pay them a visit yet, and Jacqueline can’t have her “talk” with the university officials until then anyway. So, Monday will be the big day.
Oh, and I did pay a visit to the doctor this morning. It was surprisingly pleasant and not at all unnerving. (I felt kind of like a little kid going to the doctor for the first time. :P A language barrier can make any experience seem new, unfamiliar, and scary.) She told me that it seems like I have a bruised bone, which is why it has been causing me pain for so long. It will still take several weeks for it to heal completely. She gave a prescription for some cream and pain relievers, though. The crazy thing is that the visit only cost me 22 euros, and the prescriptions were only about 7 euros together. Crazy, these French people are. Anyway, at least now I know that I don’t have pieces of bone floating around, or torn cartilage, or something awful like that. Bone bruises are painful, but they heal eventually, and I can still walk on it without doing damage. As Caitlin told me, God must have thought I needed an extra challenge here in France, so he gave me a handicap for this level. Is it sad that I then started comparing my life to Halo? “Yeah, I shouldn’t have gone for the triple kill on that heroic campaign - you know, last semester. God’s making me play France on legendary now.” :P I suppose I could also make some Mario references...like, it sure would be nice to find some star power or some mushrooms right now. I like the green ones, but the red ones are good too.
Anyway, I’m pretty exhausted after all of that, plus an hour of wandering around trying to find Kendra's house (which looks totally different in the daylight), an afternoon of vacation planning and then a wonderful dinner with said Kendra. ;) We had a fantastically long dinner, complete with some deep and encouraging conversation. :) It made me happy. That happiness was somewhat diminished by my hour-long wait for a bus, and then my 20 minute wait IN that unheated bus at the next terminal, though. (Don’t ask me why it stops for 20 minutes...right after you get on.) In any case, I was glad for a hot shower when I got home, and now I’m quite content snuggled down under my covers where it’s warm. And I’m looking forward to church tomorrow!! :D
Much love! Bisous!
beginning of the weeeeeek-eeennnddd!
Oyyyy, what to write first? The end of the week has been full of surprises. Kendra and I finished class on Thursday and decided to plan out some ideas for our end-of-February week-long break, and then wander around the shopping district for a while to window shop and find something yummy for dinner. I enjoyed the company of course, and we found several interesting places, including a huge bookstore (4 stories) that could probably be the equivalent of a Barnes and Noble. I can't decide if finding it was a good or bad thing. ;) Anyway, it took a while to decide on something to eat because neither one of us are incredibly decisive, but we finally settled on a comfy little Italian place on Rue Bressigny. The waitress thought we were a bit odd for sharing a pizza, but she was really kind and had the cook make it just a tiny bit larger for us anyway. One of the other customers was celebrating her birthday that day, and after everyone sang to her she was just beaming, and evidently so touched that she gave the traditional cheek-kiss greeting to every single person in the restaurant - including us American girls in the corner. :)
By the way, did you know that the French for window shopping literally means to "lick the windows"? Hehehe. It amused me, too. I also think that those of you who are "of age" should do a little research to find out why this sentence doesn't convey quite what the speaker intended: "I like France because they don't use preservatives like they do in the U.S." Yes, the key word is preservative.
Anyway, Friday was an interesting day for several reasons. First of all, I had to explain the connotations of 'queer,' the offensiveness of 'nigger,' and the proper use of 'howdy' in translation class. I don't think my professor is capable of asking a question and listening for the answer, which made it all the more interesting. He's also not able to say "howdy" without making a hand gesture to signify a cowboy hat. :P
The second reason I found it interesting was the fact that I experienced my first "contrôle" - or in other words, a big auditorium filled with lots of students taking two or three different tests that are then graded but don't actually count for anything in the end. Mine was a "Version" exam, which meant that I was given a 207 word text in English, in this case an excerpt from a book, and asked to translate it into French without the use of any aids. I discovered that I can find very creative ways of expressing ideas in a more roundabout way when I have no idea what the exact French vocabulary would be. It's kinda fun, actually. Anyway, we'll see how it turns out.
The third interesting occurrence of the day was my visit to "Espace Social Santé" - the health and housing office. I made an appointment with a doctor for today, and spent some time visiting with the nurse, who is one of my favorite people on campus. She genuinely shows an interest in you and shares whatever helpful information she can on any subject, whether it be local doctors or the upcoming concert of the Gospel choir that she thoroughly enjoys listening to. Anyway, the woman in charge of housing was slightly less friendly, but not rude. She informed me that it would be possible to change housing, but I would have to notify Jacqueline at least a month in advance or be obligated by French law to pay her that month's rent. Not a problem - that seems like common courtesy - but I started to get really nervous about talking to Jacqueline. I hadn't broached the subject of moving because I wasn't at all sure if it was even an option, and I didn't want to complain. At this point, though, I have two other options: a space with a family and a girl that I've already met that seems to offer a lively, friendly atmosphere and regular meals with the family that is only 15 minutes from the university (half the distance I have now) or a space with a woman and a Japanese student who will be leaving soon that is just 10 minutes from the university, with the opportunity for meals with her as well. I'm going to meet her in about 45 minutes, so maybe I'll know better then what I'd like to do. Speaking of which, I gotta run. Oh snap, it’s raining now. Grrrr.
By the way, did you know that the French for window shopping literally means to "lick the windows"? Hehehe. It amused me, too. I also think that those of you who are "of age" should do a little research to find out why this sentence doesn't convey quite what the speaker intended: "I like France because they don't use preservatives like they do in the U.S." Yes, the key word is preservative.
Anyway, Friday was an interesting day for several reasons. First of all, I had to explain the connotations of 'queer,' the offensiveness of 'nigger,' and the proper use of 'howdy' in translation class. I don't think my professor is capable of asking a question and listening for the answer, which made it all the more interesting. He's also not able to say "howdy" without making a hand gesture to signify a cowboy hat. :P
The second reason I found it interesting was the fact that I experienced my first "contrôle" - or in other words, a big auditorium filled with lots of students taking two or three different tests that are then graded but don't actually count for anything in the end. Mine was a "Version" exam, which meant that I was given a 207 word text in English, in this case an excerpt from a book, and asked to translate it into French without the use of any aids. I discovered that I can find very creative ways of expressing ideas in a more roundabout way when I have no idea what the exact French vocabulary would be. It's kinda fun, actually. Anyway, we'll see how it turns out.
The third interesting occurrence of the day was my visit to "Espace Social Santé" - the health and housing office. I made an appointment with a doctor for today, and spent some time visiting with the nurse, who is one of my favorite people on campus. She genuinely shows an interest in you and shares whatever helpful information she can on any subject, whether it be local doctors or the upcoming concert of the Gospel choir that she thoroughly enjoys listening to. Anyway, the woman in charge of housing was slightly less friendly, but not rude. She informed me that it would be possible to change housing, but I would have to notify Jacqueline at least a month in advance or be obligated by French law to pay her that month's rent. Not a problem - that seems like common courtesy - but I started to get really nervous about talking to Jacqueline. I hadn't broached the subject of moving because I wasn't at all sure if it was even an option, and I didn't want to complain. At this point, though, I have two other options: a space with a family and a girl that I've already met that seems to offer a lively, friendly atmosphere and regular meals with the family that is only 15 minutes from the university (half the distance I have now) or a space with a woman and a Japanese student who will be leaving soon that is just 10 minutes from the university, with the opportunity for meals with her as well. I'm going to meet her in about 45 minutes, so maybe I'll know better then what I'd like to do. Speaking of which, I gotta run. Oh snap, it’s raining now. Grrrr.
Wednesday, February 3, 2010
Wednesdays are hump days in France too
Well, an awful lot can happen in one day, and I hate how it usually turns a good week just a little sour. Maybe I'll have a better perspective on it in the morning.
History class was not quite as bad as I thought it would be. The professor, unlike others I've met, seems kind and helpful, and she said that the exchange students in the past have made better grades on the exam than the French students. (That's promising.) However, listening to a history lecture in French that lasts an hour and a half is quite draining. You don't realize how much energy it takes to be that meticulously attentive until you are trying to listen, comprehend, and take notes when you don't know all of the words being used.
Langue Pratique was a joke, because it's an English grammar and comprehension class. The professor looks like the type who eats raw lemons for breakfast, so it makes it all the more entertaining for me. (It wouldn't be so amusing if I was concerned about the subject matter, but as it is, I don't care if she likes me or not. I think she'd still talk down to me even if she secretly did.)
Over lunch Kendra and I discussed our dilemma when it came to the homework for Didactics. Should we try to do the spreadsheet by hand, or wait to ask the professor to clarify the assignment? She didn't seem to be taking into account our special situation. Fortunately, we decided to wait, and it turned out for the best. The professor is probably the most willing to work with us to make our experience in her class interesting and beneficial.
French Expression - boring. Ugh, learning how to make an outline. I'm an exchange student from a college, for goodness sake. I'm just trying to learn a language. I'm not in remedial school. :P
Then came the two big trials of the day. Of course, they would come *after* I was already exhausted. Evidently, it pays to eavesdrop on others' conversations here, because that's how you find out about everything important to the life of a student. So, there are these things called "contrôles" here. No one talks about them in class, the professors are curiously silent on the subject, and no one tells you when or where to look for any kind of notice that warns you of their coming. But, everyone has to take these "tests" or "quizzes" or whatever they are, some of which count and some of which don't; others make up part of what's called "continuous assessment." This all means that, yes, there was another tangled mess of spreadsheets to hack my way through, figuring out which classes and which teachers have contrôles, and most importantly, if I have any. My eavesdropping was very timely, given that the first ones begin this Friday. Yes, 3 weeks into the semester...2 for the exchange students. I don't even know what there is to test over yet. We haven't been in class long enough. It's especially odd, but mostly frustrating, because we've been told that we still have time to change our schedules and find the right classes - but at the same time, we're now being told that we can't miss these "exams." There are a few classes that I'm attending for the first time this week! *sigh* Every time I think I'm getting my footing, the system throws me another curveball. I'm learning to just let them whiz past and wait for the next one. It's not worth worrying about. The French students don't seem bothered at all.
Anyway, the second trial of the day was the discovery that there is a family nearby who is looking for a student to fill their empty room. There are already other students there (the one I met seemed extremely nice), and the family has teenage children. Meals are included in the rent, and it's half the distance from the university as my house now. I'm praying that God would show me clearly and quickly what I should do. Should I stay here because He has ministry for me to do, or should I go because He has somewhere else for me to be? It seems safer there, and I would have more access to the university and to activities with my friends. I don't know. If God brings me to mind, please pray with me.
Oh, and I found out why I'm always freezing in my room. The thermometer says it's 17 or 18 degrees Celsius. Yeah, that's 62-64 degrees. What to do about that.........
Time for bed, though. A bientot!
History class was not quite as bad as I thought it would be. The professor, unlike others I've met, seems kind and helpful, and she said that the exchange students in the past have made better grades on the exam than the French students. (That's promising.) However, listening to a history lecture in French that lasts an hour and a half is quite draining. You don't realize how much energy it takes to be that meticulously attentive until you are trying to listen, comprehend, and take notes when you don't know all of the words being used.
Langue Pratique was a joke, because it's an English grammar and comprehension class. The professor looks like the type who eats raw lemons for breakfast, so it makes it all the more entertaining for me. (It wouldn't be so amusing if I was concerned about the subject matter, but as it is, I don't care if she likes me or not. I think she'd still talk down to me even if she secretly did.)
Over lunch Kendra and I discussed our dilemma when it came to the homework for Didactics. Should we try to do the spreadsheet by hand, or wait to ask the professor to clarify the assignment? She didn't seem to be taking into account our special situation. Fortunately, we decided to wait, and it turned out for the best. The professor is probably the most willing to work with us to make our experience in her class interesting and beneficial.
French Expression - boring. Ugh, learning how to make an outline. I'm an exchange student from a college, for goodness sake. I'm just trying to learn a language. I'm not in remedial school. :P
Then came the two big trials of the day. Of course, they would come *after* I was already exhausted. Evidently, it pays to eavesdrop on others' conversations here, because that's how you find out about everything important to the life of a student. So, there are these things called "contrôles" here. No one talks about them in class, the professors are curiously silent on the subject, and no one tells you when or where to look for any kind of notice that warns you of their coming. But, everyone has to take these "tests" or "quizzes" or whatever they are, some of which count and some of which don't; others make up part of what's called "continuous assessment." This all means that, yes, there was another tangled mess of spreadsheets to hack my way through, figuring out which classes and which teachers have contrôles, and most importantly, if I have any. My eavesdropping was very timely, given that the first ones begin this Friday. Yes, 3 weeks into the semester...2 for the exchange students. I don't even know what there is to test over yet. We haven't been in class long enough. It's especially odd, but mostly frustrating, because we've been told that we still have time to change our schedules and find the right classes - but at the same time, we're now being told that we can't miss these "exams." There are a few classes that I'm attending for the first time this week! *sigh* Every time I think I'm getting my footing, the system throws me another curveball. I'm learning to just let them whiz past and wait for the next one. It's not worth worrying about. The French students don't seem bothered at all.
Anyway, the second trial of the day was the discovery that there is a family nearby who is looking for a student to fill their empty room. There are already other students there (the one I met seemed extremely nice), and the family has teenage children. Meals are included in the rent, and it's half the distance from the university as my house now. I'm praying that God would show me clearly and quickly what I should do. Should I stay here because He has ministry for me to do, or should I go because He has somewhere else for me to be? It seems safer there, and I would have more access to the university and to activities with my friends. I don't know. If God brings me to mind, please pray with me.
Oh, and I found out why I'm always freezing in my room. The thermometer says it's 17 or 18 degrees Celsius. Yeah, that's 62-64 degrees. What to do about that.........
Time for bed, though. A bientot!
Getting settled
This week has started off much more agreeably: I feel more settled, more excited, more ambitious, but also more relaxed. I do have some new classes to attend this week, though, so I'm a bit nervous about them. Especially today's contemporary history class. It's sink or swim, so I hope I don't drown! I'm also feeling rather lost in my Didactic of English class, because she's assigning homework and asking us to prepare for the internship without realizing that she needs to give separate directions for the exchange students. Unfortunately, professors are hard to track down.
In any case, this week will also be interesting because our new exchange student has arrived in the house. She's from South Korea, so she asked me to just call her Soni, since her Korean name is too hard for us to pronounce. I was very, very thankful that I was here when she arrived, because she hardly speaks French, and understands very little of what Jacqueline says. I've spent the past couple of nights translating into English and trying to make her feel as at ease here as I can. It is very difficult for Asian students to pick up the accent and structure of French.
Last night was a wonderful French food night, because February 2 is the French holiday of La Chandeleur (Candlemas). I didn't know what it was, so I researched it a little and found that it was "originally Virgin Mary's Blessing Day but became known as "avec Crêpe Day", referring to the tradition of offering crêpes. The belief was that if you could catch the crêpe with a frying pan after tossing it in the air with your left hand and holding a gold coin in your right hand, you would become rich that year." I didn't test out the whole gold coin bit, but I certainly became rich in crêpes last night!
On a slightly odd note, I caught up on a little news from Arkansas yesterday, and I found out that UCA is not only reconstructing its sidewalks (in the same place), but they are turning Arkansas Hall into a science/math/technology residential hall. Interesting idea, but somehow I just can't see college students flocking to use study rooms called "Nerd Nodes." Really, UCA?
Anyway, I have to leave a little early today to show Soni the bus system (and hope that it isn't late)! A bientôt!
In any case, this week will also be interesting because our new exchange student has arrived in the house. She's from South Korea, so she asked me to just call her Soni, since her Korean name is too hard for us to pronounce. I was very, very thankful that I was here when she arrived, because she hardly speaks French, and understands very little of what Jacqueline says. I've spent the past couple of nights translating into English and trying to make her feel as at ease here as I can. It is very difficult for Asian students to pick up the accent and structure of French.
Last night was a wonderful French food night, because February 2 is the French holiday of La Chandeleur (Candlemas). I didn't know what it was, so I researched it a little and found that it was "originally Virgin Mary's Blessing Day but became known as "avec Crêpe Day", referring to the tradition of offering crêpes. The belief was that if you could catch the crêpe with a frying pan after tossing it in the air with your left hand and holding a gold coin in your right hand, you would become rich that year." I didn't test out the whole gold coin bit, but I certainly became rich in crêpes last night!
On a slightly odd note, I caught up on a little news from Arkansas yesterday, and I found out that UCA is not only reconstructing its sidewalks (in the same place), but they are turning Arkansas Hall into a science/math/technology residential hall. Interesting idea, but somehow I just can't see college students flocking to use study rooms called "Nerd Nodes." Really, UCA?
Anyway, I have to leave a little early today to show Soni the bus system (and hope that it isn't late)! A bientôt!
Monday, February 1, 2010
the rest of "that week from..."
That brings me to Thursday. More classes, nothing extremely remarkable. Still a lot of mental processing going on, though. Kendra and I started talking about how we were feeling after our first week and a half abroad, and we decided that it felt good to have a separation from life at UCA. After being immersed in that for over two years, it has almost become like a cocoon, so it’s helpful to take a step back, or in this case, a huge leap back. From here, it’s much easier to have a fresh perspective on life. As Kendra said, being here is means that parts of you are being drained that have never been drained before, but the other parts of you are being refilled and refreshed. Another thought? Living on my own here is so much different from “living on my own” at UCA. And, I’ve realized that it’s okay to not figure all of this out perfectly the first time. Learning by trial and error is a process I’m finally learning to accept. I’ve also found it much easier to look at life with a bigger picture mindset -- beyond college life. University classes and credits and hours are just little paths in life that move you from Point A to Point B. Why keep staring at the road when you can look up and find relationships and the little experiences in life that make the journey worthwhile? :) There’s nothing like a little perspective.
So, Friday afternoon, I decided to take a trip to the Carrefour, because I was almost out of groceries and needed school supplies. I had four hours before my night class, so I figured I had enough time to catch the bus over and get back in time. I did make it there, fortunately, and I found most of what I needed, but things got interesting when I tried to get back. An African man struck up a conversation with me at the bus stop, and he seemed pretty friendly. I couldn't understand his french, so he switched to english, which I could hardly understand either. We chatted about studies and work - you know, the usual small talk. He said he came from Darfur, Sudan, a year ago, and I couldn’t quite catch what he does here in Angers. But he kept getting more specific about what I was studying, where I was studying, and where I lived...to which I gave very vague responses. And then he goes, "You have family?" Yes, in the US: a mom, dad, brother, sister. “Baby, you have baby?” Oh, noooo, I don't. “Ah, ok ok." And then he leans in closer. "I'm looking for baby, you give me number for you?" Uhhh. No. “No? You no give me your number?" No. Thanks though. "Ah ok. What is your name?" Katrine. :P
*sigh* Never a dull moment here. And then ended up getting on the bus going the wrong way, and had to get off and turn around...lugging a HUGE bag and a stuffed backpack, because I underestimated how much I would have to carry. I thought my arms were going to fall off by the time I got home, and my shoulders are still sore. :P Oh well, another lesson to chalk up to trial and error.
So Friday night was my first ALP class, i.e. crash course in Angers history, art, language, and culture. It was actually really interesting, although it will take some work to remember all of the names and dates and stories. Kendra and a friend unexpectedly picked me up after class to go to Bible study at the evangelical church. They’re beginning a study of Habakkuk, which I admit I’ve never read. (I don’t know a lot of people who have!) It was good, but it made me miss Christ Church a lot. There wasn’t anything wrong with the Bible study - not at all - it was just one of those times when I realized that I just don’t feel at home. It’ll take some time.
Anyway, Saturday afternoon was my first ALP excursion. We were going to visit the cathedral St. Maurice, l’Abbaye Toussaint, la Galerie de David d’Angers, and some other historical landmarks, and I was looking forward to it because the sun had actually come out. Of course, by the time I arrived at the school, the sun was hiding behind the clouds, and it was starting to snow. :P Figures. I hadn’t worn my heavy coat because I’d gotten much too warm the day before. Again, it figures. We all nearly froze to death walking around Angers, and let me tell you: it’s really hard to take notes by hand in blowing snow. Ugh. It’s also really difficult to take notes on an outdoor lecture about architecture and art when you don’t know how to spell the vocabulary you’ve never seen before. 0_o
By the time Saturday evening rolled around, I was tired and discouraged and frozen through, but trying my hardest to hold it together. After all, I’m in France - I should be having a great time, right? Yeah. It’s hard to feel that way after a week like that. I started talking to Ali and my mom that night, and I fell apart, and then I felt worse because I felt guilty for not holding it together. :P But, Ali and mom both encouraged me and helped me to learn a valuable lesson: life has rough spots wherever you are, even in the most idealized country of all, and you don’t have to pretend that everything’s perfect when it isn’t. It’s okay to have a bad week, and it’s completely understandable to feel less-than-ideal after adjusting to so many new things in such a short time. Another valuable lesson I learned? It’s ok to ask for help, and just because I’m here doesn’t mean I don’t need my support network back home. God gave them to me for a reason. :)
Sunday morning, one of the young ladies from the evangelical church came to pick me up with Kendra and Gilly in tow. I was looking forward to the Sunday service, but I was a little nervous too. I found that it’s about the size of Christ Church, probably smaller. They start by interspersing songs with commentary on a passage of Scripture - that day it was Joshua 1:7-9 (big surprise...God's been teaching me about courage and refuge everywhere ).
Only be strong and very courageous, being careful to do according to all the law that Moses my servant commanded you. Do not turn from it to the right hand or to the left, that you may have good success wherever you go. This Book of the Law shall not depart from your mouth, but you shall meditate on it day and night, so that you may be careful to do according to all that is written in it. For then you will make your way prosperous, and then you will have good success. Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous. Do not be frightened, and do not be dismayed, for the LORD your God is with you wherever you go."
The encouragement of that verse and the songs were just what I needed to hear. Of course, I was getting teary-eyed, so it was hard to sing, but some of the tunes were familiar, like translations of Shout to the Lord and I Need Thee Every Hour. So, after God had encouraged me to be courageous and strong in Him by reminding me that He will make me successful in accomplishing His plan in His time, and even though I am weak and cannot keep from turning left and right from His law, that I am covered by His blood - yes, after that - we prayed together, like popcorn prayer, and then took the Lord's Supper. That was when I felt like God actually said something to me again. (He keeps doing that here.) I put the cracker in my mouth and I felt like He was saying "I am in you and you are in Me." Which completely pulled together everything He's been teaching me lately, from the Psalms, from songs, from encouragement from people. I've been reading about how He's my refuge and my strength, and from the song “This is Home” the other day, I felt like He was telling me that in Him, I am home. And then Sunday, He made me realize that Him being in me, and me being in Him by His body and blood - that IS what refuge means. I never leave His refuge, because He is in me, and I am always in Him.
It probably sounds stupidly simple, but I felt like I *understood* for the first time. Anyway, the preacher then got up and gave a message on Acts 20:16-38, where Paul is talking to the Ephesian elders, and how what he says outlines how the church should be. I was really happy that I was understanding most of the French. And then, after more prayer, they ended the service, we got to talk to several people, including a homeschooling family from London who was in town visiting family. They still get strange looks for homeschooling in England, because it's so rare. Anyway, we started getting to know the people better, and soon, we all ate lunch together. The pastor’s wife makes it and some stay to share the meal every week. It's only 2 euros, if you can pay. So, we took advantage of the opportunity to visit with French Christians, chatting with the few college girls who go there. The pastor asked me about Christ Church, too, and he was interested by the idea of us teaching each other during the service.
And I ate SO MUCH. It was really good.
I also found out that the bus system really has been taking advantage of me. One of the girls told me that they sell a 1 week pass, but no one told me about that when I went to the terminal. I don't even think it was listed on the sign. Of course, it's to their advantage to have me buy a ticket each time, because they're only valid for an hour after their first use. Unfortunately, the 10 tickets I bought = the price of a one week pass. :P But as Mom said, God knows what they did. ;)
Sunday afternoon was the benefit concert put on by Jacqueline’s choir, and she was kind enough to pay for my ticket! I asked to be dropped off at the church where I thought it was after we left church, and it was empty. I thought it was because I was an hour early, so I started taking pictures, and then I noticed the sign that advertised the concert, which was at a different church. :P I didn't know which streets connected where, because my map didn't detail all of them, so I headed off in what I thought might be a good direction to find a main road, and I found a park that was on the map, and then I realized that the road up the hill looked familiar. I started thanking God for my semi-photographic memory, because I remembered where I was from the one time she drove me to church, and I was able to figure out how to get back to my street, and then to the right church. It was a good 45 minute walk, but I made it just in time. :) A nd the concert was so wonderful. There's nothing like hearing French people sing What a Wonderful World. ;) One of these days I’ll find an internet connection fast enough to upload my video of it. Anyway, the music was so enjoyable. I find that choral and classical music concerts are my favorite way of relaxing and refreshing my mind. :)
Just in case you were worrying/wondering, Jacqueline and I are getting along quite well now. We just needed to get used to one another. Now I think we’re reaching the point where we can be friends. I asked her how I could pray for her the other day, and I realized that she is still carrying all of the pain from her son’s death and her husband’s leaving. Please pray for her, that God would release her from that bondage and bring her peace.
That’s about all I have to say for now. I feel much better, being caught up. I’ll try not to get behind anymore, if only to keep it from bothering me. :P I know, I’m weird. Anyway, à bientôt - may the God of peace shelter you beneath His wings.
So, Friday afternoon, I decided to take a trip to the Carrefour, because I was almost out of groceries and needed school supplies. I had four hours before my night class, so I figured I had enough time to catch the bus over and get back in time. I did make it there, fortunately, and I found most of what I needed, but things got interesting when I tried to get back. An African man struck up a conversation with me at the bus stop, and he seemed pretty friendly. I couldn't understand his french, so he switched to english, which I could hardly understand either. We chatted about studies and work - you know, the usual small talk. He said he came from Darfur, Sudan, a year ago, and I couldn’t quite catch what he does here in Angers. But he kept getting more specific about what I was studying, where I was studying, and where I lived...to which I gave very vague responses. And then he goes, "You have family?" Yes, in the US: a mom, dad, brother, sister. “Baby, you have baby?” Oh, noooo, I don't. “Ah, ok ok." And then he leans in closer. "I'm looking for baby, you give me number for you?" Uhhh. No. “No? You no give me your number?" No. Thanks though. "Ah ok. What is your name?" Katrine. :P
*sigh* Never a dull moment here. And then ended up getting on the bus going the wrong way, and had to get off and turn around...lugging a HUGE bag and a stuffed backpack, because I underestimated how much I would have to carry. I thought my arms were going to fall off by the time I got home, and my shoulders are still sore. :P Oh well, another lesson to chalk up to trial and error.
So Friday night was my first ALP class, i.e. crash course in Angers history, art, language, and culture. It was actually really interesting, although it will take some work to remember all of the names and dates and stories. Kendra and a friend unexpectedly picked me up after class to go to Bible study at the evangelical church. They’re beginning a study of Habakkuk, which I admit I’ve never read. (I don’t know a lot of people who have!) It was good, but it made me miss Christ Church a lot. There wasn’t anything wrong with the Bible study - not at all - it was just one of those times when I realized that I just don’t feel at home. It’ll take some time.
Anyway, Saturday afternoon was my first ALP excursion. We were going to visit the cathedral St. Maurice, l’Abbaye Toussaint, la Galerie de David d’Angers, and some other historical landmarks, and I was looking forward to it because the sun had actually come out. Of course, by the time I arrived at the school, the sun was hiding behind the clouds, and it was starting to snow. :P Figures. I hadn’t worn my heavy coat because I’d gotten much too warm the day before. Again, it figures. We all nearly froze to death walking around Angers, and let me tell you: it’s really hard to take notes by hand in blowing snow. Ugh. It’s also really difficult to take notes on an outdoor lecture about architecture and art when you don’t know how to spell the vocabulary you’ve never seen before. 0_o
By the time Saturday evening rolled around, I was tired and discouraged and frozen through, but trying my hardest to hold it together. After all, I’m in France - I should be having a great time, right? Yeah. It’s hard to feel that way after a week like that. I started talking to Ali and my mom that night, and I fell apart, and then I felt worse because I felt guilty for not holding it together. :P But, Ali and mom both encouraged me and helped me to learn a valuable lesson: life has rough spots wherever you are, even in the most idealized country of all, and you don’t have to pretend that everything’s perfect when it isn’t. It’s okay to have a bad week, and it’s completely understandable to feel less-than-ideal after adjusting to so many new things in such a short time. Another valuable lesson I learned? It’s ok to ask for help, and just because I’m here doesn’t mean I don’t need my support network back home. God gave them to me for a reason. :)
Sunday morning, one of the young ladies from the evangelical church came to pick me up with Kendra and Gilly in tow. I was looking forward to the Sunday service, but I was a little nervous too. I found that it’s about the size of Christ Church, probably smaller. They start by interspersing songs with commentary on a passage of Scripture - that day it was Joshua 1:7-9 (big surprise...God's been teaching me about courage and refuge everywhere ).
Only be strong and very courageous, being careful to do according to all the law that Moses my servant commanded you. Do not turn from it to the right hand or to the left, that you may have good success wherever you go. This Book of the Law shall not depart from your mouth, but you shall meditate on it day and night, so that you may be careful to do according to all that is written in it. For then you will make your way prosperous, and then you will have good success. Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous. Do not be frightened, and do not be dismayed, for the LORD your God is with you wherever you go."
The encouragement of that verse and the songs were just what I needed to hear. Of course, I was getting teary-eyed, so it was hard to sing, but some of the tunes were familiar, like translations of Shout to the Lord and I Need Thee Every Hour. So, after God had encouraged me to be courageous and strong in Him by reminding me that He will make me successful in accomplishing His plan in His time, and even though I am weak and cannot keep from turning left and right from His law, that I am covered by His blood - yes, after that - we prayed together, like popcorn prayer, and then took the Lord's Supper. That was when I felt like God actually said something to me again. (He keeps doing that here.) I put the cracker in my mouth and I felt like He was saying "I am in you and you are in Me." Which completely pulled together everything He's been teaching me lately, from the Psalms, from songs, from encouragement from people. I've been reading about how He's my refuge and my strength, and from the song “This is Home” the other day, I felt like He was telling me that in Him, I am home. And then Sunday, He made me realize that Him being in me, and me being in Him by His body and blood - that IS what refuge means. I never leave His refuge, because He is in me, and I am always in Him.
It probably sounds stupidly simple, but I felt like I *understood* for the first time. Anyway, the preacher then got up and gave a message on Acts 20:16-38, where Paul is talking to the Ephesian elders, and how what he says outlines how the church should be. I was really happy that I was understanding most of the French. And then, after more prayer, they ended the service, we got to talk to several people, including a homeschooling family from London who was in town visiting family. They still get strange looks for homeschooling in England, because it's so rare. Anyway, we started getting to know the people better, and soon, we all ate lunch together. The pastor’s wife makes it and some stay to share the meal every week. It's only 2 euros, if you can pay. So, we took advantage of the opportunity to visit with French Christians, chatting with the few college girls who go there. The pastor asked me about Christ Church, too, and he was interested by the idea of us teaching each other during the service.
And I ate SO MUCH. It was really good.
I also found out that the bus system really has been taking advantage of me. One of the girls told me that they sell a 1 week pass, but no one told me about that when I went to the terminal. I don't even think it was listed on the sign. Of course, it's to their advantage to have me buy a ticket each time, because they're only valid for an hour after their first use. Unfortunately, the 10 tickets I bought = the price of a one week pass. :P But as Mom said, God knows what they did. ;)
Sunday afternoon was the benefit concert put on by Jacqueline’s choir, and she was kind enough to pay for my ticket! I asked to be dropped off at the church where I thought it was after we left church, and it was empty. I thought it was because I was an hour early, so I started taking pictures, and then I noticed the sign that advertised the concert, which was at a different church. :P I didn't know which streets connected where, because my map didn't detail all of them, so I headed off in what I thought might be a good direction to find a main road, and I found a park that was on the map, and then I realized that the road up the hill looked familiar. I started thanking God for my semi-photographic memory, because I remembered where I was from the one time she drove me to church, and I was able to figure out how to get back to my street, and then to the right church. It was a good 45 minute walk, but I made it just in time. :) A nd the concert was so wonderful. There's nothing like hearing French people sing What a Wonderful World. ;) One of these days I’ll find an internet connection fast enough to upload my video of it. Anyway, the music was so enjoyable. I find that choral and classical music concerts are my favorite way of relaxing and refreshing my mind. :)
Just in case you were worrying/wondering, Jacqueline and I are getting along quite well now. We just needed to get used to one another. Now I think we’re reaching the point where we can be friends. I asked her how I could pray for her the other day, and I realized that she is still carrying all of the pain from her son’s death and her husband’s leaving. Please pray for her, that God would release her from that bondage and bring her peace.
That’s about all I have to say for now. I feel much better, being caught up. I’ll try not to get behind anymore, if only to keep it from bothering me. :P I know, I’m weird. Anyway, à bientôt - may the God of peace shelter you beneath His wings.
And "that week" continues...
Where was I? Ah yes, Wednesday.
More courses, more wrestling with the class schedules. That really took it out of me. I have never seen such a complicated system before! Some courses you can only take together because the test is over both courses...but nothing on a schedule or board or website can tell you that...and some classes are connected to others but not by obligation...and there are year 1, year 2, and year 3 classes with levels 1, 2, and 3 within them, which makes for I don't even know how many combinations...and three or four different groups of each class meet at different times throughout the week...and some classes have names that are one word different than another class, or they may have totally different names but refer to the same thing. And that's just the Language department. If you try to mix classes from different departments, it gets even more complicated. You could take a course at 10:15 in one department, but the classes start at 10:00 in another department, which means that you have difficulties with classes overlapping. Ugh, it was enough to make me want to scream and shatter something breakable. But I didn't.
I did, however, attend an interesting course in Didactics of English, which is the equivalent of Teaching English as a Second Language - except in French, to French students who want to teach English in French schools. Mr. Atkinson says it should be a really interesting course for us, and that he’s excited that we’re the first exchange students to take it. The class includes an internship at a French school, where we would do observations and such. Mr. Atkinson said that they’re trying to expand their horizons a bit in the Language department, so finding a way for two American students to do the internship would be a huge step forward, not to mention a fascinating experience for us. We’ll see how it works out. Until then, I’m enjoying the subject matter in the class. It’s all about learning environments, techniques, and tools, right now, and the difference between pedagogy and didacticism.
Kendra and I also paid a visit to the housing office to ask about a possible relocation for me. Unfortunately, they won't let me consider moving closer until all of the students have arrived, and when I explained my difficulties with the bus system, they just said to be sure to make signals at the busses so they know to stop. Ok...so now it’s MY fault that the bus comes early and doesn’t stop, because I didn’t signal it. I’m obviously psychic and sensed it coming down the street from my seat inside the bus stop. Ugh, but seriously. If there’s only one bus per hour, and it’s 35 degrees outside, and there are PEOPLE AT THE BUS STOP, you should STOP THE BUS! That’s common sense to me! It’s what a BUS STOP is for, and I don’t care if it’s in France or not. Grr, in case you couldn’t tell, it made me really mad. The housing department told me to see if the student who’s moving in with me soon gets along with me, because we could accompany each other, but I’m not going to ask her to go everywhere with me all the time so we can walk home together! For goodness sakes, she’s got her own life, and a different schedule because she’s in a different program. They also recommended getting a bike, which you can get for free if you have a bank account to verify your residency, which is another thing I’d have to get. But, the traffic here is absolutely insane, and I’m afraid I’d be killed. Besides, it’s not much safer on a bike at night anyway. (And my knee won’t let me do that at the moment, all of the other reasons aside.) All that to say, I’m in a bit of a predicament, and I don’t know how to resolve it at the moment. I’m trying to just work with it and let it resolve with a little time, but it’s hard. You all know how I like to have things sorted out and all the pieces of the machine working in their places as soon as possible. ;)
That brings me to Thursday. More classes, nothing extremely remarkable. Still a lot of mental processing going on, though. Kendra and I started talking about how we were feeling after our first week and a half abroad, and we decided that it felt good to be separated from life at UCA. After being immersed in that environment and that life for over two years, it has become like a cocoon, so it’s helpful to take a step back, or in this case, a huge leap back. Here in France, away from everything familiar, it’s much easier to get a fresh perspective on life. As Kendra said, being here means that parts of you are being drained that have never been drained before, but the other parts of you are being refilled and refreshed. Another thing I've realized, and that I rather like, is that living on my own here is so much different from “living on my own” at UCA. It's forcing me to become much more independent and creative, even when it comes to little things like doing laundry or going shopping. And, I’ve realized that it’s okay to not do everything perfectly the first time. (I know, shocker!) I've always fought so hard to do everything "right" and I've always felt crushed when I failed, so one of the biggest steps forward that I've taken so far in France is just accepting that life is a process of trial and error. I can finally say that when I don't get something right the first time, it's not the end of the world! A lot of things just really don't matter in the scheme of things. I’ve also found it much easier to look at life with a bigger picture mindset -- beyond college life. University classes and credits and hours are just little paths in life that move you from Point A to Point B. Why stare at the road when you can look up and find relationships and the little experiences in life that make the journey worthwhile? (That said, I am going to continue paying attention to the streets here so I don't get lost.) ;)
There's so much more in my head that I can't express very well in words: all of the things I'm learning, everything I feel like I'm becoming. It's overwhelming, but it's good. :)
Even so, Friday and Saturday were pretty tough for me. By that time, Kendra and I were totally confused by the schedules, and we decided to go see Mr. Atkinson, because it looked like he was going to be our only hope for making sense of things. We sat in his office for about 45 minutes, and we discovered that even he was having trouble finding the right information. :P Finally, things started to make a little more sense, and we were able to sit down and make a workable schedule that afternoon. We even have Mondays off, so we can take long weekend trips if we want! :) God is merciful.
Kendra and I also enjoyed a delightful lunch with two French students who asked us to join them. We talked about our families, our studies, the frequent strikes in France, educational systems, language evolution, and our favorite movies, which was awesome practice when it came to vocabulary and conversational phrasing. There's nothing like having a friend to talk to who can correct your mistakes without getting upset like a professor! They even taught us some of the expressions for "cool" and "fun," which are terribly hard to translate. (In case you were wondering, they don't say "chouette" anymore, but they do say "super-cool!") ;) Evidently, student strikes are really common in the public universities here, because there is a lot of turmoil right now over changes that are being made to the educational system. The government is trying to update it, and the professors are in an uproar because they don't want the old ways to change. I must say, I have never seen an American university physically blockaded by people.....but that's what they said happens all the time. Evidently, strikes among train workers are terribly common, too, enough so that you have to be careful when you want to go somewhere so as not to get stranded.
Anyway, it's time for me to continue being productive today. The laundry is mostly done (I couldn't get it to finish drying at the laundromat, so I have it hanging up in the house now). Jacqueline was kind enough to take me with her to the Carrefour, and I bought myself a French press coffeemaker. Hallelujah, I can make coffee again! Anyway, I still have to buy a monthly bus pass since today is the 1st of the month, so I'm off again! Can't wait until choir practice later. Oh, and I'll tell you all about my Saturday excursions and about Sunday church as soon as I get a chance.
A bientot! Bisous!
More courses, more wrestling with the class schedules. That really took it out of me. I have never seen such a complicated system before! Some courses you can only take together because the test is over both courses...but nothing on a schedule or board or website can tell you that...and some classes are connected to others but not by obligation...and there are year 1, year 2, and year 3 classes with levels 1, 2, and 3 within them, which makes for I don't even know how many combinations...and three or four different groups of each class meet at different times throughout the week...and some classes have names that are one word different than another class, or they may have totally different names but refer to the same thing. And that's just the Language department. If you try to mix classes from different departments, it gets even more complicated. You could take a course at 10:15 in one department, but the classes start at 10:00 in another department, which means that you have difficulties with classes overlapping. Ugh, it was enough to make me want to scream and shatter something breakable. But I didn't.
I did, however, attend an interesting course in Didactics of English, which is the equivalent of Teaching English as a Second Language - except in French, to French students who want to teach English in French schools. Mr. Atkinson says it should be a really interesting course for us, and that he’s excited that we’re the first exchange students to take it. The class includes an internship at a French school, where we would do observations and such. Mr. Atkinson said that they’re trying to expand their horizons a bit in the Language department, so finding a way for two American students to do the internship would be a huge step forward, not to mention a fascinating experience for us. We’ll see how it works out. Until then, I’m enjoying the subject matter in the class. It’s all about learning environments, techniques, and tools, right now, and the difference between pedagogy and didacticism.
Kendra and I also paid a visit to the housing office to ask about a possible relocation for me. Unfortunately, they won't let me consider moving closer until all of the students have arrived, and when I explained my difficulties with the bus system, they just said to be sure to make signals at the busses so they know to stop. Ok...so now it’s MY fault that the bus comes early and doesn’t stop, because I didn’t signal it. I’m obviously psychic and sensed it coming down the street from my seat inside the bus stop. Ugh, but seriously. If there’s only one bus per hour, and it’s 35 degrees outside, and there are PEOPLE AT THE BUS STOP, you should STOP THE BUS! That’s common sense to me! It’s what a BUS STOP is for, and I don’t care if it’s in France or not. Grr, in case you couldn’t tell, it made me really mad. The housing department told me to see if the student who’s moving in with me soon gets along with me, because we could accompany each other, but I’m not going to ask her to go everywhere with me all the time so we can walk home together! For goodness sakes, she’s got her own life, and a different schedule because she’s in a different program. They also recommended getting a bike, which you can get for free if you have a bank account to verify your residency, which is another thing I’d have to get. But, the traffic here is absolutely insane, and I’m afraid I’d be killed. Besides, it’s not much safer on a bike at night anyway. (And my knee won’t let me do that at the moment, all of the other reasons aside.) All that to say, I’m in a bit of a predicament, and I don’t know how to resolve it at the moment. I’m trying to just work with it and let it resolve with a little time, but it’s hard. You all know how I like to have things sorted out and all the pieces of the machine working in their places as soon as possible. ;)
That brings me to Thursday. More classes, nothing extremely remarkable. Still a lot of mental processing going on, though. Kendra and I started talking about how we were feeling after our first week and a half abroad, and we decided that it felt good to be separated from life at UCA. After being immersed in that environment and that life for over two years, it has become like a cocoon, so it’s helpful to take a step back, or in this case, a huge leap back. Here in France, away from everything familiar, it’s much easier to get a fresh perspective on life. As Kendra said, being here means that parts of you are being drained that have never been drained before, but the other parts of you are being refilled and refreshed. Another thing I've realized, and that I rather like, is that living on my own here is so much different from “living on my own” at UCA. It's forcing me to become much more independent and creative, even when it comes to little things like doing laundry or going shopping. And, I’ve realized that it’s okay to not do everything perfectly the first time. (I know, shocker!) I've always fought so hard to do everything "right" and I've always felt crushed when I failed, so one of the biggest steps forward that I've taken so far in France is just accepting that life is a process of trial and error. I can finally say that when I don't get something right the first time, it's not the end of the world! A lot of things just really don't matter in the scheme of things. I’ve also found it much easier to look at life with a bigger picture mindset -- beyond college life. University classes and credits and hours are just little paths in life that move you from Point A to Point B. Why stare at the road when you can look up and find relationships and the little experiences in life that make the journey worthwhile? (That said, I am going to continue paying attention to the streets here so I don't get lost.) ;)
There's so much more in my head that I can't express very well in words: all of the things I'm learning, everything I feel like I'm becoming. It's overwhelming, but it's good. :)
Even so, Friday and Saturday were pretty tough for me. By that time, Kendra and I were totally confused by the schedules, and we decided to go see Mr. Atkinson, because it looked like he was going to be our only hope for making sense of things. We sat in his office for about 45 minutes, and we discovered that even he was having trouble finding the right information. :P Finally, things started to make a little more sense, and we were able to sit down and make a workable schedule that afternoon. We even have Mondays off, so we can take long weekend trips if we want! :) God is merciful.
Kendra and I also enjoyed a delightful lunch with two French students who asked us to join them. We talked about our families, our studies, the frequent strikes in France, educational systems, language evolution, and our favorite movies, which was awesome practice when it came to vocabulary and conversational phrasing. There's nothing like having a friend to talk to who can correct your mistakes without getting upset like a professor! They even taught us some of the expressions for "cool" and "fun," which are terribly hard to translate. (In case you were wondering, they don't say "chouette" anymore, but they do say "super-cool!") ;) Evidently, student strikes are really common in the public universities here, because there is a lot of turmoil right now over changes that are being made to the educational system. The government is trying to update it, and the professors are in an uproar because they don't want the old ways to change. I must say, I have never seen an American university physically blockaded by people.....but that's what they said happens all the time. Evidently, strikes among train workers are terribly common, too, enough so that you have to be careful when you want to go somewhere so as not to get stranded.
Anyway, it's time for me to continue being productive today. The laundry is mostly done (I couldn't get it to finish drying at the laundromat, so I have it hanging up in the house now). Jacqueline was kind enough to take me with her to the Carrefour, and I bought myself a French press coffeemaker. Hallelujah, I can make coffee again! Anyway, I still have to buy a monthly bus pass since today is the 1st of the month, so I'm off again! Can't wait until choir practice later. Oh, and I'll tell you all about my Saturday excursions and about Sunday church as soon as I get a chance.
A bientot! Bisous!
Day 2 of "That Week."
So, I’m sitting in the “laverie” waiting for my clothes to wash and dry. I’m fairly sure I manipulated the machine correctly, although I may have chosen a washing machine that is too large for fear of cramming too much in one of the smaller ones. It cost me 5.50 euros just to wash my clothes, which comes to about $8. To an American, that’s just insane!
Anyway, Tuesday was yet another day full of adventures and misadventures. My knee was still causing me quite a bit of pain, so I decided to take the bus again. It was one of the coldest mornings we’ve had since I arrived, so everyone was shivering at the bus stop. And we shivered. And we waited. And we shivered. And we looked at our watches (or iPods or iPhones). The bus was five - no, seven - no, ten minutes late. So we waited for the next bus. Nothing. After thirty minutes at the bus stop and two non-existent busses, we finally spotted one. Of course, it was already packed full of people, so there was hardly any room to squeeze on. It was a rather awkward ride to the ‘centre-ville,’ and by the time I arrived, I was at least 15 minutes late for the class I was trying to attend for the first time. I didn’t have much other choice, so I walked in, and the professor just had to be one of those stern looking, no-nonsense, uptight schoolmarm types. *sigh* I was already embarrassed for being late, flustered by the bus mishap, and still mostly frozen, and her cold stare certainly didn’t help that condition. She asked what class I was looking for, and I stammered that I was sorry for interrupting, but that I was exchange student looking for the Version class. “This is it. It starts at 10:15,” she said with a glare. I wanted to tell her plainly that being an exchange student didn’t make me stupid, and that I knew how to tell time, but instead I explained that I was really sorry, but that the bus was late. She didn’t seem to care and told me to find someone in the class who had the text. I slipped as quietly as I could to the back of the class where I had spotted Kendra. I suppose those kinds of professors exist everywhere, but that still doesn’t change my opinion that they need to find another line of work. :P
After that horrible experience, Kendra and I spent a little more time in front of the schedule boards trying to figure things out, and grabbed some lunch at the student café. They have really good tuna tomato sandwiches, even if they are packaged. Then, we ran off to the meeting scheduled for exchange students interested in classes in the History, Literature, and Arts department. It was there that we received a lot of information about finding classes that we should have gotten the week before, which was extremely frustrating. I also found out that some classes change times and classrooms every week, and you have to be really careful to watch the posted notices. When things change, though, they just say “Oh, that’s life!” Gah, this much spontaneity is almost too much for me sometimes!
We met a girl from the states who has been here for a semester already, and we picked her brain for a while about her experiences. Looking back, I think it was a bad idea, actually, because Kendra and I were terrified at the end of the conversation. She shared her difficulties with professors and with understanding the classes, keeping up with the changing classrooms, trying to adjust to the environment, the fact that the professors and officials aren’t always very helpful, the bike accidents she’s seen, the awful final exams that were nothing like what the professor clearly hinted at. Everything. All her frustrations. Granted, there were some good things, but it was definitely not the conversation I needed to have in the middle of last week. I spent most of the afternoon stressed and depressed, and Kendra did too, at least until we went to our next class: Thème with Mr. Atkinson. He’s such a friendly, good-humored British man that it’s hard not to smile when you’re around him. And, I found that translation is what makes me happy! Working with the text and finding the right words and phrases to accurately express the ideas of the author is the perfect mix of structure and creativity for my brain. You have to be faithful to the text, which is where the structure and regulation come into play, but you also have to be creative enough to find the expressions that get at the heart of the text. By the end of the class, I felt energized, and quite excited about the opportunities I’ll have to improve my French this semester. It had been a while since I’d been that excited about school. :) I’ve even come up with some other ideas for improving my French since then, like using my newly acquired translation techniques to translate some of my favorite songs. It feels so good to find something that truly lights me up inside, something I feel God has designed me for.
Kendra and I had the chance to talk to another French student, Azilys, who was super nice and was able to help us with some French expressions that we’ve never been able to get the hang of. She spent last semester in North Carolina, so we talked a lot about the differences between French and American universities. Comparing her perspective to that of our American friend, I would have to say that talking to Azilys was much more helpful! I didn’t feel overwhelmed or depressed after talking to her, just interested and a bit more excited. I learned that there really is a distance between most professors and students, so it’s best not to expect a friendly rapport like we have in the U.S. I also learned that French students don’t stay up until 2am studying -- they actually think that’s pretty stupid. They would rather study during the day (which is easier when your classes only meet once per week) and spend time with friends, go out, and relax in the evenings. They’re very protective of their sleep, and Azilys told us that the one thing she found so strange about American students is that they nap! Talking to her was quite fascinating. Kendra and I were getting hungry again, though, so we left to hang out on the Rue Bressigny, which is where most of the internationals go to hang out at the bars and restaurants. We enjoyed some more good Lebanese food before heading to the famous “Mardi Café” meetup for internationals and French students at K’lypso Bar. It wasn’t too bad at first, mingling with people, but before long, the music was blaring and it was so crowded that you couldn’t move from one side of the room to the other. Not helpful for having conversations at all. I did win a free drink though, so I decided to taste pure apricot juice for the first time. Pretty darn good, I must say. Then Kendra and I got out of there, because it was just too loud and crowded, and it was getting late. A couple of the French students in R.I.R.E., the international welcome club, accompanied me to the bus stop so I wouldn’t get lost and so I would have someone to wait with. They practiced their English with me, and I practiced my French with them, and I realized that they’re so good at English because they’ve been studying it since elementary school! That makes me feel a lot better and a lot less behind, because I’ve only been studying since high school. I can’t expect myself to have an equivalent level of proficiency by any means.
Anyway, there were several other people at the stop, but for some reason, the bus drove right on by without stopping. It was the only one going my direction for another hour, so one of the girls was kind enough to ask her dad, who was going to pick her up anyway, to pick me up, too, and drive me home. It was at that point that I realized that dealing with this bus system was going to be a knock-down, drag-out, fight. To the pain, of course. :P You see, this is what I’m up against:
I am living 30 minutes away from the university by foot, and there are hardly any busses after 8:50pm that can take me to my stop. The night of Mardi Café was the third time the bus system had put me in a predicament, and I’m afraid that one day I’m going to find myself in less than ideal, maybe even dangerous, circumstances because the bus is so unreliable. Being stuck alone at 11pm in 35 degree weather at a dark bus stop is much worse than just being late for a class, although I need to avoid both. I can't risk not having a way to get back safely if something happens and they ignore me again.
So...I was really quite frustrated, exhausted, and emotionally drained when I arrived home after midnight Tuesday. I’m gonna check my laundry in the dryer now...and then maybe update you on Wednesday.
Anyway, Tuesday was yet another day full of adventures and misadventures. My knee was still causing me quite a bit of pain, so I decided to take the bus again. It was one of the coldest mornings we’ve had since I arrived, so everyone was shivering at the bus stop. And we shivered. And we waited. And we shivered. And we looked at our watches (or iPods or iPhones). The bus was five - no, seven - no, ten minutes late. So we waited for the next bus. Nothing. After thirty minutes at the bus stop and two non-existent busses, we finally spotted one. Of course, it was already packed full of people, so there was hardly any room to squeeze on. It was a rather awkward ride to the ‘centre-ville,’ and by the time I arrived, I was at least 15 minutes late for the class I was trying to attend for the first time. I didn’t have much other choice, so I walked in, and the professor just had to be one of those stern looking, no-nonsense, uptight schoolmarm types. *sigh* I was already embarrassed for being late, flustered by the bus mishap, and still mostly frozen, and her cold stare certainly didn’t help that condition. She asked what class I was looking for, and I stammered that I was sorry for interrupting, but that I was exchange student looking for the Version class. “This is it. It starts at 10:15,” she said with a glare. I wanted to tell her plainly that being an exchange student didn’t make me stupid, and that I knew how to tell time, but instead I explained that I was really sorry, but that the bus was late. She didn’t seem to care and told me to find someone in the class who had the text. I slipped as quietly as I could to the back of the class where I had spotted Kendra. I suppose those kinds of professors exist everywhere, but that still doesn’t change my opinion that they need to find another line of work. :P
After that horrible experience, Kendra and I spent a little more time in front of the schedule boards trying to figure things out, and grabbed some lunch at the student café. They have really good tuna tomato sandwiches, even if they are packaged. Then, we ran off to the meeting scheduled for exchange students interested in classes in the History, Literature, and Arts department. It was there that we received a lot of information about finding classes that we should have gotten the week before, which was extremely frustrating. I also found out that some classes change times and classrooms every week, and you have to be really careful to watch the posted notices. When things change, though, they just say “Oh, that’s life!” Gah, this much spontaneity is almost too much for me sometimes!
We met a girl from the states who has been here for a semester already, and we picked her brain for a while about her experiences. Looking back, I think it was a bad idea, actually, because Kendra and I were terrified at the end of the conversation. She shared her difficulties with professors and with understanding the classes, keeping up with the changing classrooms, trying to adjust to the environment, the fact that the professors and officials aren’t always very helpful, the bike accidents she’s seen, the awful final exams that were nothing like what the professor clearly hinted at. Everything. All her frustrations. Granted, there were some good things, but it was definitely not the conversation I needed to have in the middle of last week. I spent most of the afternoon stressed and depressed, and Kendra did too, at least until we went to our next class: Thème with Mr. Atkinson. He’s such a friendly, good-humored British man that it’s hard not to smile when you’re around him. And, I found that translation is what makes me happy! Working with the text and finding the right words and phrases to accurately express the ideas of the author is the perfect mix of structure and creativity for my brain. You have to be faithful to the text, which is where the structure and regulation come into play, but you also have to be creative enough to find the expressions that get at the heart of the text. By the end of the class, I felt energized, and quite excited about the opportunities I’ll have to improve my French this semester. It had been a while since I’d been that excited about school. :) I’ve even come up with some other ideas for improving my French since then, like using my newly acquired translation techniques to translate some of my favorite songs. It feels so good to find something that truly lights me up inside, something I feel God has designed me for.
Kendra and I had the chance to talk to another French student, Azilys, who was super nice and was able to help us with some French expressions that we’ve never been able to get the hang of. She spent last semester in North Carolina, so we talked a lot about the differences between French and American universities. Comparing her perspective to that of our American friend, I would have to say that talking to Azilys was much more helpful! I didn’t feel overwhelmed or depressed after talking to her, just interested and a bit more excited. I learned that there really is a distance between most professors and students, so it’s best not to expect a friendly rapport like we have in the U.S. I also learned that French students don’t stay up until 2am studying -- they actually think that’s pretty stupid. They would rather study during the day (which is easier when your classes only meet once per week) and spend time with friends, go out, and relax in the evenings. They’re very protective of their sleep, and Azilys told us that the one thing she found so strange about American students is that they nap! Talking to her was quite fascinating. Kendra and I were getting hungry again, though, so we left to hang out on the Rue Bressigny, which is where most of the internationals go to hang out at the bars and restaurants. We enjoyed some more good Lebanese food before heading to the famous “Mardi Café” meetup for internationals and French students at K’lypso Bar. It wasn’t too bad at first, mingling with people, but before long, the music was blaring and it was so crowded that you couldn’t move from one side of the room to the other. Not helpful for having conversations at all. I did win a free drink though, so I decided to taste pure apricot juice for the first time. Pretty darn good, I must say. Then Kendra and I got out of there, because it was just too loud and crowded, and it was getting late. A couple of the French students in R.I.R.E., the international welcome club, accompanied me to the bus stop so I wouldn’t get lost and so I would have someone to wait with. They practiced their English with me, and I practiced my French with them, and I realized that they’re so good at English because they’ve been studying it since elementary school! That makes me feel a lot better and a lot less behind, because I’ve only been studying since high school. I can’t expect myself to have an equivalent level of proficiency by any means.
Anyway, there were several other people at the stop, but for some reason, the bus drove right on by without stopping. It was the only one going my direction for another hour, so one of the girls was kind enough to ask her dad, who was going to pick her up anyway, to pick me up, too, and drive me home. It was at that point that I realized that dealing with this bus system was going to be a knock-down, drag-out, fight. To the pain, of course. :P You see, this is what I’m up against:
I am living 30 minutes away from the university by foot, and there are hardly any busses after 8:50pm that can take me to my stop. The night of Mardi Café was the third time the bus system had put me in a predicament, and I’m afraid that one day I’m going to find myself in less than ideal, maybe even dangerous, circumstances because the bus is so unreliable. Being stuck alone at 11pm in 35 degree weather at a dark bus stop is much worse than just being late for a class, although I need to avoid both. I can't risk not having a way to get back safely if something happens and they ignore me again.
So...I was really quite frustrated, exhausted, and emotionally drained when I arrived home after midnight Tuesday. I’m gonna check my laundry in the dryer now...and then maybe update you on Wednesday.
Permission to speak freely, Captain?
I shall preface this entry (and the new few entries) with a small but important disclaimer: all experiences related herein are not and should not be taken as expressions of my dreadful misery here or ungratefulness to be in France. Instead, they should be taken in aggregate as my honest commentary on life, which is, as always, not perfect.
In other words, “Permission to speak freely, Captain?” ;)
I just don’t want anyone to think that I’m miserable or ungrateful, because I’m really not. I’ve talked to a few friends from home over the past week, and they caught me when I was in the middle of figuring out some tricky challenges, so they started asking, “Well, isn’t there anything GOOD about Angers?” I’m afraid they started getting the wrong impression. Anyway, I just wanted to correct any misperceptions, because I most certainly am aware of and rejoicing in many blessings in the midst of the struggles. It’s life though -- and it’s still messy. That fact remains the same in France and in any other country. But, I’m so glad to have the opportunity to be here figuring out life on my own (with God, that is).
Monday was full of stories, so I’ll start my update there. It was about then that walking became really difficult, because I somehow injured my knee. I started to walk to school, and it started hurting so much that I couldn’t keep going, so I had to take the bus. I did eventually make it to school though, to get my ID card made. Unfortunately, after that, I had trouble finding my classroom but arrived on time for what turned out to be English grammar class. How exciting. :P And I even got things wrong...in my own language. At least I made a new friend though! So, the day continued, with me limping from the pain and taking the elevator as often as possible. My second course was called “Thème,” which means translation from French into English. I have an older, very talkative Irish-English professor who gets sidetracked a lot, but loves to make the international students feel welcome. I haven’t decided if I like it yet or not, because while it’s nice to feel welcome, I’d like for the class to progress enough to actually learn something! For lunch, we met up with some of our new friends in the exchange program and walked to a nearby crêperie, -- very slowly, to give me time to limp. :P It was a lovely little restaurant, and I enjoyed tasting real French galettes and crêpes for the first time: the first with cheese and mushroom and the latter with dark chocolate sauce. Mmmm. It’s also worth noting that they don’t rush mealtime, so it’s always really relaxing, unless you’re running late for something! I did need to get back for a class, though -- a class on the Psalms. Unfortunately, I couldn’t figure out where in the world the classroom was, and then I walked into the wrong one. An extremely kind French girl named Hélène led me to the secretary’s office and then helped me find the right room, and then I discovered that the class was way over my head anyway. I made a new friend, Maylis, in that class, too, though, so if nothing else, Monday was a good day for finding friends! The one thing that day was NOT good for, however, was my knee. I left that class early because I was in so much pain, and I called Mom on Skype in tears. There’s nothing like motherly comfort and advice, no matter where you are. Somewhere in all of this, I found the e-mail that notified me that I’d been accepted into the Arts, Langues, et Patrimoine class I really wanted to take, so that brightened the day a bit. :) Anyway, I just happened to find Kendra after her class, and she kindly accompanied me to the student health clinic to find out if they could give me some advice or maybe a knee brace. It wasn’t what I expected though, and the nurse just offered to make an appointment for me with a doctor near where I live. I wasn’t quite ready to take that step yet, since I’m not sure how their system works here, and there was always the chance that it would just take a couple of days for it to heal. Kendra and I also had the chance to talk with the study abroad director to find out about choir opportunities on campus, which resulted in some helpful information as well as some very needed encouragement. She told us that we actually speak really good French, accent and everything.
Now for two very random thoughts before I finish talking about Monday:
- If you start typing in “french boys” on google, the first results are:
1) french boys names
2) french boys names list
french boys in speedos
To remember the random letters and number in my UCO online password, I now say “charles de gaulle killed nazis, sometimes zebras 3” every time I type it in. It works! :)
Ok. :) Kendra and I walked to the one of the nearby pharmacies, because we heard that they’re extremely helpful and the pharmacists are quite knowledgeable, probably even more so than in the U.S. I found a brace for my knee, and the pharmacist took me back into a room to help me put it on. I found out when I came back that I’d freaked Kendra out by following this strange man into a dark hallway! lol By that time, we had to head back to find the choir room, which turned into an adventure itself. We tried the door we thought it was, but it was locked, so ended up making our way through a maze of dark hallways in the wrong building to find the wrong class, whose professor directed us back to the locked door, which had since then been unlocked. The director welcomed us warmly and invited us to join in and share music with the soprano section. It was just the respite I needed after the long day. The choir is small - about 30 people, maybe less, and the director is good-humored and doesn’t speechify as much as Mr. Erwin. ;) They sing mostly French repertoire, but we did practice “Psalm 23” by Bobby McFerrin, which was quite the source of amusement for me. “He leads me beside green meeeedows...” I didn’t have the heart to correct the pronunciation then, partly because I didn’t want to seem like the American know-it-all. Anyway, Kendra and I discovered that choir kid syndrome is universal - other than the language, you couldn’t have told the difference between UCA and UCO students. The tenors were standing on chairs, the sopranos were talking and giggling, the altos were so quiet you forgot they were there, and the basses just went with the flow. When Kendra and I walked out after practice, some of the guys started jumping over things and goofing off, and we just looked at each other and laughed. Some things just don’t change, no matter where you are! The director invited us to come back and be a part of the choir, so I’m super-excited about that. I think it will be a highlight of my stay here.
At that point, we were both starving, so we decided to find something to eat on Rue Bressigny. The Lebanese kebab restaurant called Ali Baba looked warm and inviting, so we stopped in there. As soon as we walked in, the 30ish year old arab-looking-owner-guy pegged us as americans - "So you’re the american girls!" It was really cozy inside, and hardly anyone was in there, so we grabbed a little table for two in the second half of the restaurant, farther away from the cold air at the door. We enjoyed some good conversation, both in French and English, and a yummy dinner of kebab wraps. A few more customers came in, but it was still really quiet. Then the guy (whose father also was working there) brought us sweet mint tea and stopped to chat, because he evidently likes talking to Americans. (Caitlin says it’s also because we’re pretty, which I might also buy.) So, we talked about Arkansas, about France, his favorite places to go, where some interesting zoos are located, and where to find some natural scenery outside the city. We even started comparing "strangest animals we eat" stories. He couldn't believe we hunted and ate squirrels. It was the most hilarious thing watching his face as we explained that people do hunt and eat squirrels in Arkansas, and that squirrel is super-delicious with dumplings. Anyway, we probably spent at least an hour talking, and he offered us more tea, which we were hesitant to accept because it was getting late. But he made some, and we kept talking a minute or two. She and I barely touched the tea, because we were paranoid he might have slipped something in it, however unlikely that may have been. And then the other people in the restaurant began to leave all of a sudden, leaving us alone with him and his dad (who looked like a harmless nice old man). To tell the truth, the son seemed genuinely nice, too, but we were still alone with them, and it was late. So, I started thinking of ways to get out of there as quickly as possible, which had to include paying him for our meal and not seeming panicked. And then his dad left. And locked the door. I tried to speed up the process even more, and the guy started asking questions about why we had to go, and if we had to be home at a certain time. I evaded, making up excuses about not wanting the dogs to make noise at home and having catching the bus on time. He responded by asking where we lived (I evaded) and how far it was (again I evaded). Then he said, "Oh, I have a car, it's not a problem for me to take you home."
Now, this immediately reminded me of Taken and my extreme panic alarms started going off, and I was thinking, "I have to find a way to get out of here NOW." So I pulled out enough cash to pay for both of us, told Kendra I'd get hers, and said "No, it's not far, we gotta go," almost threw the money at him, and we rushed to the front door as quickly as we could. We didn't stop running until we turned the corner. :P And then, the garbage truck drove past and the garbage man catcalled...the first time I’ve been singled out in France, and it was a garbage man. :P Gotta love it.
So, that’s how my first nice restaurant experience turned sketchy. Kendra and I were sitting at the bus stop in the freezing cold waiting for my bus (which only comes once an hour after 9pm), and she goes, “So, the next time a sketchy lebanese waiter offers us more tea, we make like a tea and leaf!” I love how she can make any situation seem brighter. :) It was a good thing, too, because the bus came 6 minutes early and didn’t stop for me. My only options were to call Jacqueline and ask for a ride or call Jacqueline and tell her I was spending the night with Kendra, neither of which I wanted to do at 11:45 at night. But, Jacqueline was very kind and came to pick me up (she wasn’t in bed). And then I discovered just how good hot showers can feel when you’re absolutely frozen through.
That was how my week started...an injured knee, hidden classrooms, sketchy waiters, bus problems, and the fear of being the worst room-renter ever. I’ll let you know about the rest of the week a little later. I gotta go do some laundry now. :) It’s nice having no classes on Monday!
In other words, “Permission to speak freely, Captain?” ;)
I just don’t want anyone to think that I’m miserable or ungrateful, because I’m really not. I’ve talked to a few friends from home over the past week, and they caught me when I was in the middle of figuring out some tricky challenges, so they started asking, “Well, isn’t there anything GOOD about Angers?” I’m afraid they started getting the wrong impression. Anyway, I just wanted to correct any misperceptions, because I most certainly am aware of and rejoicing in many blessings in the midst of the struggles. It’s life though -- and it’s still messy. That fact remains the same in France and in any other country. But, I’m so glad to have the opportunity to be here figuring out life on my own (with God, that is).
Monday was full of stories, so I’ll start my update there. It was about then that walking became really difficult, because I somehow injured my knee. I started to walk to school, and it started hurting so much that I couldn’t keep going, so I had to take the bus. I did eventually make it to school though, to get my ID card made. Unfortunately, after that, I had trouble finding my classroom but arrived on time for what turned out to be English grammar class. How exciting. :P And I even got things wrong...in my own language. At least I made a new friend though! So, the day continued, with me limping from the pain and taking the elevator as often as possible. My second course was called “Thème,” which means translation from French into English. I have an older, very talkative Irish-English professor who gets sidetracked a lot, but loves to make the international students feel welcome. I haven’t decided if I like it yet or not, because while it’s nice to feel welcome, I’d like for the class to progress enough to actually learn something! For lunch, we met up with some of our new friends in the exchange program and walked to a nearby crêperie, -- very slowly, to give me time to limp. :P It was a lovely little restaurant, and I enjoyed tasting real French galettes and crêpes for the first time: the first with cheese and mushroom and the latter with dark chocolate sauce. Mmmm. It’s also worth noting that they don’t rush mealtime, so it’s always really relaxing, unless you’re running late for something! I did need to get back for a class, though -- a class on the Psalms. Unfortunately, I couldn’t figure out where in the world the classroom was, and then I walked into the wrong one. An extremely kind French girl named Hélène led me to the secretary’s office and then helped me find the right room, and then I discovered that the class was way over my head anyway. I made a new friend, Maylis, in that class, too, though, so if nothing else, Monday was a good day for finding friends! The one thing that day was NOT good for, however, was my knee. I left that class early because I was in so much pain, and I called Mom on Skype in tears. There’s nothing like motherly comfort and advice, no matter where you are. Somewhere in all of this, I found the e-mail that notified me that I’d been accepted into the Arts, Langues, et Patrimoine class I really wanted to take, so that brightened the day a bit. :) Anyway, I just happened to find Kendra after her class, and she kindly accompanied me to the student health clinic to find out if they could give me some advice or maybe a knee brace. It wasn’t what I expected though, and the nurse just offered to make an appointment for me with a doctor near where I live. I wasn’t quite ready to take that step yet, since I’m not sure how their system works here, and there was always the chance that it would just take a couple of days for it to heal. Kendra and I also had the chance to talk with the study abroad director to find out about choir opportunities on campus, which resulted in some helpful information as well as some very needed encouragement. She told us that we actually speak really good French, accent and everything.
Now for two very random thoughts before I finish talking about Monday:
- If you start typing in “french boys” on google, the first results are:
1) french boys names
2) french boys names list
french boys in speedos
To remember the random letters and number in my UCO online password, I now say “charles de gaulle killed nazis, sometimes zebras 3” every time I type it in. It works! :)
Ok. :) Kendra and I walked to the one of the nearby pharmacies, because we heard that they’re extremely helpful and the pharmacists are quite knowledgeable, probably even more so than in the U.S. I found a brace for my knee, and the pharmacist took me back into a room to help me put it on. I found out when I came back that I’d freaked Kendra out by following this strange man into a dark hallway! lol By that time, we had to head back to find the choir room, which turned into an adventure itself. We tried the door we thought it was, but it was locked, so ended up making our way through a maze of dark hallways in the wrong building to find the wrong class, whose professor directed us back to the locked door, which had since then been unlocked. The director welcomed us warmly and invited us to join in and share music with the soprano section. It was just the respite I needed after the long day. The choir is small - about 30 people, maybe less, and the director is good-humored and doesn’t speechify as much as Mr. Erwin. ;) They sing mostly French repertoire, but we did practice “Psalm 23” by Bobby McFerrin, which was quite the source of amusement for me. “He leads me beside green meeeedows...” I didn’t have the heart to correct the pronunciation then, partly because I didn’t want to seem like the American know-it-all. Anyway, Kendra and I discovered that choir kid syndrome is universal - other than the language, you couldn’t have told the difference between UCA and UCO students. The tenors were standing on chairs, the sopranos were talking and giggling, the altos were so quiet you forgot they were there, and the basses just went with the flow. When Kendra and I walked out after practice, some of the guys started jumping over things and goofing off, and we just looked at each other and laughed. Some things just don’t change, no matter where you are! The director invited us to come back and be a part of the choir, so I’m super-excited about that. I think it will be a highlight of my stay here.
At that point, we were both starving, so we decided to find something to eat on Rue Bressigny. The Lebanese kebab restaurant called Ali Baba looked warm and inviting, so we stopped in there. As soon as we walked in, the 30ish year old arab-looking-owner-guy pegged us as americans - "So you’re the american girls!" It was really cozy inside, and hardly anyone was in there, so we grabbed a little table for two in the second half of the restaurant, farther away from the cold air at the door. We enjoyed some good conversation, both in French and English, and a yummy dinner of kebab wraps. A few more customers came in, but it was still really quiet. Then the guy (whose father also was working there) brought us sweet mint tea and stopped to chat, because he evidently likes talking to Americans. (Caitlin says it’s also because we’re pretty, which I might also buy.) So, we talked about Arkansas, about France, his favorite places to go, where some interesting zoos are located, and where to find some natural scenery outside the city. We even started comparing "strangest animals we eat" stories. He couldn't believe we hunted and ate squirrels. It was the most hilarious thing watching his face as we explained that people do hunt and eat squirrels in Arkansas, and that squirrel is super-delicious with dumplings. Anyway, we probably spent at least an hour talking, and he offered us more tea, which we were hesitant to accept because it was getting late. But he made some, and we kept talking a minute or two. She and I barely touched the tea, because we were paranoid he might have slipped something in it, however unlikely that may have been. And then the other people in the restaurant began to leave all of a sudden, leaving us alone with him and his dad (who looked like a harmless nice old man). To tell the truth, the son seemed genuinely nice, too, but we were still alone with them, and it was late. So, I started thinking of ways to get out of there as quickly as possible, which had to include paying him for our meal and not seeming panicked. And then his dad left. And locked the door. I tried to speed up the process even more, and the guy started asking questions about why we had to go, and if we had to be home at a certain time. I evaded, making up excuses about not wanting the dogs to make noise at home and having catching the bus on time. He responded by asking where we lived (I evaded) and how far it was (again I evaded). Then he said, "Oh, I have a car, it's not a problem for me to take you home."
Now, this immediately reminded me of Taken and my extreme panic alarms started going off, and I was thinking, "I have to find a way to get out of here NOW." So I pulled out enough cash to pay for both of us, told Kendra I'd get hers, and said "No, it's not far, we gotta go," almost threw the money at him, and we rushed to the front door as quickly as we could. We didn't stop running until we turned the corner. :P And then, the garbage truck drove past and the garbage man catcalled...the first time I’ve been singled out in France, and it was a garbage man. :P Gotta love it.
So, that’s how my first nice restaurant experience turned sketchy. Kendra and I were sitting at the bus stop in the freezing cold waiting for my bus (which only comes once an hour after 9pm), and she goes, “So, the next time a sketchy lebanese waiter offers us more tea, we make like a tea and leaf!” I love how she can make any situation seem brighter. :) It was a good thing, too, because the bus came 6 minutes early and didn’t stop for me. My only options were to call Jacqueline and ask for a ride or call Jacqueline and tell her I was spending the night with Kendra, neither of which I wanted to do at 11:45 at night. But, Jacqueline was very kind and came to pick me up (she wasn’t in bed). And then I discovered just how good hot showers can feel when you’re absolutely frozen through.
That was how my week started...an injured knee, hidden classrooms, sketchy waiters, bus problems, and the fear of being the worst room-renter ever. I’ll let you know about the rest of the week a little later. I gotta go do some laundry now. :) It’s nice having no classes on Monday!
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