Bonjour à tous!
I've been occupied by the feeling of drowning this week, hence my lack of posts. This week has been a stressful, overwhelming blur that I did not expect. 19 hours. I haven't taken 19 hours at an American university, let alone thought about taking that many hours in French. These classes are like any other classes one would take in the US, but in a foreign language. Needless to say, I was battling homesickness pretty badly all week.
It has also been incessantly cloudy. I am from Texas, the sun is a staple for my sanity and not having it for a week has been absolutely miserable. A few other women in my group have had much worse homesickness than me, considering neither of them are French majors and came here for a normal study abroad, lightly paced program where they'd have the chance to travel and socialize more often. We found out this week that this program is NOT the case. Granted, I'm content with it, the first week is over and I know that I'll adjust, especially with the encouraging words from my honey and family.
Sociology and media of language, etymology of French, grammar and structure, global simulation, and written and oral expression are a few of my classes. All of them are at different times and all of the rooms and times were changed at some point this week. Ugh. Yesterday though, the global simulation class was pretty awesome. The teacher is one of those crazies who is really expressive and funny, so she made class bearable.
We also spent the class period creating a character. Exciting, considering I love to write and all that that entails. She wrote a grid on the board with two columns labeled les hommes et les femmes (men and women). The rows then, corresponded by age groups beginning with 20-25 and going up to +65. She explained that there is only one name per box and practically threw markers at us and ran. Thank God I came in late and was sitting on the end, because guess who got the 20-25 year old woman? Hehe.
From this, she had us create a name, birthday, birth city, mannerisms, ticks, family situations, and other personality traits for our French character. Then she explained that we will be writing from this person's point of view all semester. That class is three hours straight, so I ran down the hallway during our break to get some coffee. (I love France, there are more coffee vending machines than bottle or can vending machines.) At that point, I would have injected the caffeine, just to keep up with our professor, she talks so quickly.
We left that class in good spirits, but then arrived at our literature class. Granted, I love literature, but when your teacher is deathly ill, as in her eyes are watering from her sinuses and she barely has a voice and there are too many of us in a little, stuffy room, no one likes literature. After suffering 2 hours there, we went to written expression and left completely deflated from that class too.
A mountain of things I miss and the frustrations of having such a trying and arduous day came crashing down on top of me. I came through the door to my new home and just wanted to crash. I didn't though. My host mom came back on Wednesday night from her theater tour and brought back delicious 73% cacao chocolate for me and for the family.
Mine is infused with Earl Grey flowers and the family's is infused with orange and clove. MMM. We had lentils with sausages from Alsace, which made me feel tremendously better. It tasted like a normal meal I would have at one of my parents' houses, so it was incredibly comforting.
Today, I had to wake up before the birds and leave while the rest of the family was having breakfast, and I was still late. Still. It was at 8 AM. A few entries ago I explained that if you're late in American time, your perfectly safe in French time. Ha. The one punctual professor I have this semester, and she teaches a class at 8 in the morning. Joy.
One consultation though, is that it's two straight hours of grammar, which sounds tortuous, as in cruel and unusual punishment, but I actually enjoyed it. Perhaps it is because grammar is the one class in which I do not feel like a completely moronic imbecile.
To "make-up" for coming into class late, I began answering questions about word natures and functions, why the same pronoun word is used for different functions, explaining the difference between direct and indirect objects, and then I realized that I was the only one answering. I couldn't help it, the professor is an adorable elderly woman who kept looking to me for the answers. Everyone else looked at me like I was from another planet or like I was Hermione from Harry Potter.
I kind of just slunk into my chair a bit and tried to let other people answer, but no one else had any idea what she was talking about and she kept LOOKING at me, damnit. So I just kept answering, because I am rather tired of awkward silences in my classes. At this point, I will answer when I know that I am wrong, just to make the teacher move on to the next subject.
Leaving class, feeling as though I might actually be able to catch my breath and keep my head above water this semester, I walked into the sunlight smiling. Oh the sun. I missed him dearly. While waiting at the tram station around 10:30, I realized that I really wanted some coffee and bread from Paul's, so I ignored the incoming tram and crossed the street to the castle.
Walking the pedestrian path through a castle is not something people get to do everyday anyway, so I took that way to centre-ville. Wandering down the streets, I actually remembered where Rue Froide begins, and went to the recycled book store that I mention a few entries ago.
No tea, I just browsed the books and came across a special edition historical magazine that covers Marie Antoinette (my favorite historical character) and a relatively short novel about the natural world. After leaving that store, I was overcome by intense hunger, so headed back from my detour and arrived at Paul's. He gave me a double espresso which REALLY helped my happiness at that point, and I decided that shopping would be fun, considering all of the shopping I've done has been rushed or not very fruitful. I actually knew where I was going today!
I've gotten the feel for the city and the orientation. Not to mention, I've made several ventures alone, just to explore and force myself to figure out where I am located, and may I say that being lost is a good way to find oneself, in more than one sense. Being lost on foot in a foreign country is exhilarating, in that once you figure out where you are and are able to find your way back to something familiar, the sense of accomplishment is worth the scariness of being lost.
Two other women came with me on Tuesday, because I told them that I was going to Paul's and they hadn't been yet. We began walking and they asked where we were. When I said, "Oh, I don't know. I'm just walking until I find it." Their eyes grew to the size of saucers.
"You don't know where we are? I thought you knew where Paul's was!"
"Yea, but I found it by getting lost the last time I went, don't worry, we don't have to be in class for like 2 hours."
It was funny, a few years ago I would have been the mousy, fearful one.
Today I found some boots that were on sale, a scarf, a shirt, and wedding stuff. Speaking of wedding stuff, wedding thoughts kept me from sleeping last night. I probably fell asleep two hours before my alarm clock sounded, but I'm beginning to get excited. Day dreams of the reception area, and getting ready with my ladies, and of course seeing my man at the end of the aisle have been sappily washing around my mind's eye for the last two days.
Before I left, it seemed like it was so far away, but now, thinking about getting home, it'll be two weeks after I step off the plane. Ugh, I'm starting to get squishy and bubbly about wedding nonsense. Even though I wanted to elope, our day is going to be a blast and a wonderful memory. I can't wait!
Well, my host family should be home soon and I have some homework. Big surprise there. Oh! Before I sign off, another interesting observation that I've made while in France is that there are no toilet seats. Anywhere. There's one in my host house, but otherwise, zilch. French women must have strong legs. Also, the toilet paper is pink. Except at the amazingly decorated house of the child psychiatrist (her's had little blue designs on it), all of the toilet paper is pink! It makes me giggle a little every time I go into a W.C.
On that lovely note, au revoir.
I've been occupied by the feeling of drowning this week, hence my lack of posts. This week has been a stressful, overwhelming blur that I did not expect. 19 hours. I haven't taken 19 hours at an American university, let alone thought about taking that many hours in French. These classes are like any other classes one would take in the US, but in a foreign language. Needless to say, I was battling homesickness pretty badly all week.
It has also been incessantly cloudy. I am from Texas, the sun is a staple for my sanity and not having it for a week has been absolutely miserable. A few other women in my group have had much worse homesickness than me, considering neither of them are French majors and came here for a normal study abroad, lightly paced program where they'd have the chance to travel and socialize more often. We found out this week that this program is NOT the case. Granted, I'm content with it, the first week is over and I know that I'll adjust, especially with the encouraging words from my honey and family.
Sociology and media of language, etymology of French, grammar and structure, global simulation, and written and oral expression are a few of my classes. All of them are at different times and all of the rooms and times were changed at some point this week. Ugh. Yesterday though, the global simulation class was pretty awesome. The teacher is one of those crazies who is really expressive and funny, so she made class bearable.
We also spent the class period creating a character. Exciting, considering I love to write and all that that entails. She wrote a grid on the board with two columns labeled les hommes et les femmes (men and women). The rows then, corresponded by age groups beginning with 20-25 and going up to +65. She explained that there is only one name per box and practically threw markers at us and ran. Thank God I came in late and was sitting on the end, because guess who got the 20-25 year old woman? Hehe.
From this, she had us create a name, birthday, birth city, mannerisms, ticks, family situations, and other personality traits for our French character. Then she explained that we will be writing from this person's point of view all semester. That class is three hours straight, so I ran down the hallway during our break to get some coffee. (I love France, there are more coffee vending machines than bottle or can vending machines.) At that point, I would have injected the caffeine, just to keep up with our professor, she talks so quickly.
We left that class in good spirits, but then arrived at our literature class. Granted, I love literature, but when your teacher is deathly ill, as in her eyes are watering from her sinuses and she barely has a voice and there are too many of us in a little, stuffy room, no one likes literature. After suffering 2 hours there, we went to written expression and left completely deflated from that class too.
A mountain of things I miss and the frustrations of having such a trying and arduous day came crashing down on top of me. I came through the door to my new home and just wanted to crash. I didn't though. My host mom came back on Wednesday night from her theater tour and brought back delicious 73% cacao chocolate for me and for the family.
Mine is infused with Earl Grey flowers and the family's is infused with orange and clove. MMM. We had lentils with sausages from Alsace, which made me feel tremendously better. It tasted like a normal meal I would have at one of my parents' houses, so it was incredibly comforting.
Today, I had to wake up before the birds and leave while the rest of the family was having breakfast, and I was still late. Still. It was at 8 AM. A few entries ago I explained that if you're late in American time, your perfectly safe in French time. Ha. The one punctual professor I have this semester, and she teaches a class at 8 in the morning. Joy.
One consultation though, is that it's two straight hours of grammar, which sounds tortuous, as in cruel and unusual punishment, but I actually enjoyed it. Perhaps it is because grammar is the one class in which I do not feel like a completely moronic imbecile.
To "make-up" for coming into class late, I began answering questions about word natures and functions, why the same pronoun word is used for different functions, explaining the difference between direct and indirect objects, and then I realized that I was the only one answering. I couldn't help it, the professor is an adorable elderly woman who kept looking to me for the answers. Everyone else looked at me like I was from another planet or like I was Hermione from Harry Potter.
I kind of just slunk into my chair a bit and tried to let other people answer, but no one else had any idea what she was talking about and she kept LOOKING at me, damnit. So I just kept answering, because I am rather tired of awkward silences in my classes. At this point, I will answer when I know that I am wrong, just to make the teacher move on to the next subject.
Leaving class, feeling as though I might actually be able to catch my breath and keep my head above water this semester, I walked into the sunlight smiling. Oh the sun. I missed him dearly. While waiting at the tram station around 10:30, I realized that I really wanted some coffee and bread from Paul's, so I ignored the incoming tram and crossed the street to the castle.
Walking the pedestrian path through a castle is not something people get to do everyday anyway, so I took that way to centre-ville. Wandering down the streets, I actually remembered where Rue Froide begins, and went to the recycled book store that I mention a few entries ago.
 |
| La Memoranda Librarie Caen, France |
No tea, I just browsed the books and came across a special edition historical magazine that covers Marie Antoinette (my favorite historical character) and a relatively short novel about the natural world. After leaving that store, I was overcome by intense hunger, so headed back from my detour and arrived at Paul's. He gave me a double espresso which REALLY helped my happiness at that point, and I decided that shopping would be fun, considering all of the shopping I've done has been rushed or not very fruitful. I actually knew where I was going today!
I've gotten the feel for the city and the orientation. Not to mention, I've made several ventures alone, just to explore and force myself to figure out where I am located, and may I say that being lost is a good way to find oneself, in more than one sense. Being lost on foot in a foreign country is exhilarating, in that once you figure out where you are and are able to find your way back to something familiar, the sense of accomplishment is worth the scariness of being lost.
Two other women came with me on Tuesday, because I told them that I was going to Paul's and they hadn't been yet. We began walking and they asked where we were. When I said, "Oh, I don't know. I'm just walking until I find it." Their eyes grew to the size of saucers.
"You don't know where we are? I thought you knew where Paul's was!"
"Yea, but I found it by getting lost the last time I went, don't worry, we don't have to be in class for like 2 hours."
It was funny, a few years ago I would have been the mousy, fearful one.
Today I found some boots that were on sale, a scarf, a shirt, and wedding stuff. Speaking of wedding stuff, wedding thoughts kept me from sleeping last night. I probably fell asleep two hours before my alarm clock sounded, but I'm beginning to get excited. Day dreams of the reception area, and getting ready with my ladies, and of course seeing my man at the end of the aisle have been sappily washing around my mind's eye for the last two days.
Before I left, it seemed like it was so far away, but now, thinking about getting home, it'll be two weeks after I step off the plane. Ugh, I'm starting to get squishy and bubbly about wedding nonsense. Even though I wanted to elope, our day is going to be a blast and a wonderful memory. I can't wait!
Well, my host family should be home soon and I have some homework. Big surprise there. Oh! Before I sign off, another interesting observation that I've made while in France is that there are no toilet seats. Anywhere. There's one in my host house, but otherwise, zilch. French women must have strong legs. Also, the toilet paper is pink. Except at the amazingly decorated house of the child psychiatrist (her's had little blue designs on it), all of the toilet paper is pink! It makes me giggle a little every time I go into a W.C.
On that lovely note, au revoir.
Pink toilet paper? You must be in W.C. heaven!
ReplyDeleteAshley, I wish I were there to make fun of you for being a sappy bride. I'll have to pack all the fun you had with me being Sappy Bride in only two weeks once you get back.
I had my first test in French phonetics. I believe it went well. I am so sorry you have such a heavy school load there! I really did think it would be a lighter, more social program.
I'll be online tomorrow to Skype! You'll have to send me pictures of the clothes you got! I am excited to see all the treasures you obtain from France.
Also, I am proud of you for being so confident and assertive in France. I admire that you are not afraid to get lost!
Tu me manque, Eskimo! Je t'aime!