Bonjour chers amis!
What a weekend, huh? Is it fall there yet? It's starting to be here, little by little. I finished the books The Hours and Devil in the White City this weekend--I'd recommend them both, but for different reasons. Now I'm going to start reading in French, which will inevitably slow down my usually fast pace.
So I went to Besançon this weekend (also known to some as Baykwan). It's a city about an hour and a half from Lure by train. Much bigger, and very charming. A river cuts through it and everything is centered around it. Beautiful bike paths with French families pedaling along, and cobblestone piétons, which are simply walking paths. I did a lot of window shopping, as almost nothing is open on Sundays, which nice because no one is bothering you while you look at shiny new things. I stayed in a little place called Hotel Regina. Very cute. I wish I could upload pictures, but I'm not at that level of sophistication yet with the school computer--I can't even get on Facebook, it's prohibited.
After I got back to Lure and my apartment, it really felt like I was coming back to my own little cozy home. Because my studio is so small, it started to feel homey very quickly, which is great. Lure itself is a very small French town. It has one main road that I would guess is less than a mile long. I work at the lycée and my apartment is almost directly attached (which will be nice in the winter I think). Many of the teachers live outside the town center and have lots of land. All the houses are so beautiful--in touch with nature in a way that houses in the US are not. And all the cars are exactly what you would think, tiny little Euro cars that fit down very skinny Euro roads. The landscape itself is similar to the midwest, with a bit more elevation--the Alps are merely two hours away. Fall hasn't quite come yet, but the trees are changing little by little and it's beautiful to watch during a long train ride.
It's funny how, in a new place, the simplest things feel like accomplishments. When you're speaking in a second language, just leaving your apartment and going to buy some apples feels like a great feat. Or, just getting to Besançon was such an accomplishment that I didn't even feel like I had to do anything once I got there. I had two people ask if I was German, and one who was sure I was British.
Oh! Friday, I had a man chase me down on the street to ask if he could "faire ma connaissance," which simply means he wanted to make my acquaintance. It was flattering, and I was so surprised that I was actually speechless. He asked if he could walk with me and we walked and talked; he said he was a pompier--I had to look that up later--which is a fireman. He asked for my phone number, but we all know how that works out for me, so as a compromise he ended up giving me his instead. And an Algerian man, while I was traveling, asked me to coffee, but I again declined. Maybe I'll say yes to someone just to see what the French dating world is like. Mostly, I'm afraid that I'll sound like an idiot--which I will--because I can't articulate myself as well in French and can't convey any depth of intelligence, really. Perhaps I'm not giving myself enough credit, but I wouldn't want to have lunch with me, someone who smiles and nods more than she does anything else. I'm also afraid that any utterance of the word 'oui' is code for green light go go go let's get married!!
Okay, well that's enough of an update for now. The internet told me that my backpack is set to arrive tomorrow, so we will see if I'll finally become a whole person again. And if it is in any way near the state of my other bag, all hell will absolutely break loose.
à la prochaine,
Sam
Monday, September 28, 2009
Friday, September 25, 2009
Good news, bad news
Hello again!!
I have received one of my bags: completely demolished. What began as a regular piece of luggage, with rolling and handle capabilities, is now a broken down, poor little bag. It no longer has wheels, they were sacraficed in the journey. The handle had been ripped off, and taped to the front with duct tape. There was a huge rip in the front, which was also patched. But, when it arrived, I saw none of that. I saw simply one half of my precious luggage; and I was happy. Unhappy, however, to find out that my other bag, part of my heart, my backpack, was still somewhere, floating in a liminal land. It needs its home, it needs me there to love it. I'm sure it misses me. On the internevet, unfortunately, it still says: tracing; check back later. Not a good sign. Maybe if we all will it back to me, it will show up!!
Last night, I had a wonderful time! In the staff lounge, I saw a sign advertising volleyball with the word 'loisir' beside it, which means leisure. Some fun, not serious volleyball. I asked about it, and before I knew it two other professors had arranged a pick up for me and I was going to be playing at eight o'clock. In my chacos, of course, because my running shoes are also in my backpack. (I don't want to talk about it). I borrowed a pair of shoes from Joel, a man, because my feet are apparently huge. Okay, I knew they were huge. But Nhamid brought me a pair of 7.5s. I mean, come on. Anyway, I felt like I was having a growth spurt or something, tripping over my feet a bit. But it worked out. And they thought I was apparently good enough to play on their team that travels!! They got third out of fifteen teams last year, so it could be really fun.
And today, I hope for my bag. I have a meeting with Carolin today to hopefully get a bike and go to the super marché.
Love,
Sam
Is this too boring to post? Likely. But I don't have any French lovers or exotic European trips to write about. You just wait though, it's going to get so juicy I'll have to censor it*
*That's probably an exaggeration.
I have received one of my bags: completely demolished. What began as a regular piece of luggage, with rolling and handle capabilities, is now a broken down, poor little bag. It no longer has wheels, they were sacraficed in the journey. The handle had been ripped off, and taped to the front with duct tape. There was a huge rip in the front, which was also patched. But, when it arrived, I saw none of that. I saw simply one half of my precious luggage; and I was happy. Unhappy, however, to find out that my other bag, part of my heart, my backpack, was still somewhere, floating in a liminal land. It needs its home, it needs me there to love it. I'm sure it misses me. On the internevet, unfortunately, it still says: tracing; check back later. Not a good sign. Maybe if we all will it back to me, it will show up!!
Last night, I had a wonderful time! In the staff lounge, I saw a sign advertising volleyball with the word 'loisir' beside it, which means leisure. Some fun, not serious volleyball. I asked about it, and before I knew it two other professors had arranged a pick up for me and I was going to be playing at eight o'clock. In my chacos, of course, because my running shoes are also in my backpack. (I don't want to talk about it). I borrowed a pair of shoes from Joel, a man, because my feet are apparently huge. Okay, I knew they were huge. But Nhamid brought me a pair of 7.5s. I mean, come on. Anyway, I felt like I was having a growth spurt or something, tripping over my feet a bit. But it worked out. And they thought I was apparently good enough to play on their team that travels!! They got third out of fifteen teams last year, so it could be really fun.
And today, I hope for my bag. I have a meeting with Carolin today to hopefully get a bike and go to the super marché.
Love,
Sam
Is this too boring to post? Likely. But I don't have any French lovers or exotic European trips to write about. You just wait though, it's going to get so juicy I'll have to censor it*
*That's probably an exaggeration.
Thursday, September 24, 2009
Im in France?
Bonjour, tout le monde!
Against all odds, I am in Lure, France as we speak. I had this great idea that I would describe, in painstaking detail all the trials and tribulations that I went through to get here but, not surprisingly, I am too worn out to do so. Instead, a recap:
Arrived at JFK to the most stressful terminal I have ever witnessed. There were hundreds (no exaggeration) of people trying to get checked in, their bags checked, etc etc etc. After spending 1.5 hours in line to get my bags checked (bags that the man was SURE were going to Paris), I got into line with everyone else to funnel through a security check that had one, yes just one, functioning checkpoint. After arriving 2.5 hours early for my flight, I found myself at the gate with a mere fifteen minutes to spare, already boarding. I thought that was the end of the sweaty, stressful traveling story. I ate some trail mix.
Little did I know it was just the beginning. To summarize: my bags were left in Dublin, I had to go through Irish customs two different times, I had to go to three different people to get a metro ticket in Paris, I missed my train to Lure by one minute after literally running from one train station to another, my bags will take three days to be delivered, I havent been able to check my email or anything like that.
In short, its been an adventure.
Well, you know I dont like being so negative, butI had to blurt all that out so someone, somewhere, may feel sorry for me, and nowI can move on.
My french is rusty, but two people have told me I speak very well (I think theyre surprised an American can speak French at all). The high school where I work is very big, almost as big as Kenyon. It has automatic doors and is filled with students who smoke outside and always seem to be the perfect amount of bored.
I have managed to find the most important store yet, the store that makes all my travel problems disappear: Le Fromagerie (The Cheese-ery). After I got a lot of brie for a mere 2 euros, all the stress melted away. I had a croissant, some brie, and an apple for dinner. Mmmm.
So I hope hope hope my bags arrive today, and I can change out of the clothes Ive been wearing now for four days. If not, cest la vie I guess.
I miss everyone, and I hope all is well. I would love to hear how fall is starting out...
Writing a blog feels weirdlyself involved, but its the easiest way to update the most people at one time. I hope youll check back and see if my life in France goes more smoothly from here on out. Im pretty sure it has to.
à la prochaine,
Sam
Against all odds, I am in Lure, France as we speak. I had this great idea that I would describe, in painstaking detail all the trials and tribulations that I went through to get here but, not surprisingly, I am too worn out to do so. Instead, a recap:
Arrived at JFK to the most stressful terminal I have ever witnessed. There were hundreds (no exaggeration) of people trying to get checked in, their bags checked, etc etc etc. After spending 1.5 hours in line to get my bags checked (bags that the man was SURE were going to Paris), I got into line with everyone else to funnel through a security check that had one, yes just one, functioning checkpoint. After arriving 2.5 hours early for my flight, I found myself at the gate with a mere fifteen minutes to spare, already boarding. I thought that was the end of the sweaty, stressful traveling story. I ate some trail mix.
Little did I know it was just the beginning. To summarize: my bags were left in Dublin, I had to go through Irish customs two different times, I had to go to three different people to get a metro ticket in Paris, I missed my train to Lure by one minute after literally running from one train station to another, my bags will take three days to be delivered, I havent been able to check my email or anything like that.
In short, its been an adventure.
Well, you know I dont like being so negative, butI had to blurt all that out so someone, somewhere, may feel sorry for me, and nowI can move on.
My french is rusty, but two people have told me I speak very well (I think theyre surprised an American can speak French at all). The high school where I work is very big, almost as big as Kenyon. It has automatic doors and is filled with students who smoke outside and always seem to be the perfect amount of bored.
I have managed to find the most important store yet, the store that makes all my travel problems disappear: Le Fromagerie (The Cheese-ery). After I got a lot of brie for a mere 2 euros, all the stress melted away. I had a croissant, some brie, and an apple for dinner. Mmmm.
So I hope hope hope my bags arrive today, and I can change out of the clothes Ive been wearing now for four days. If not, cest la vie I guess.
I miss everyone, and I hope all is well. I would love to hear how fall is starting out...
Writing a blog feels weirdlyself involved, but its the easiest way to update the most people at one time. I hope youll check back and see if my life in France goes more smoothly from here on out. Im pretty sure it has to.
à la prochaine,
Sam
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