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!