Since I'm not en France anymore, you can find me here:
http://worrisomethings.blogspot.com
where I will write about the real issues and things that happen to me when I am not en France.
Monday, May 30, 2011
return
I've been home just about two weeks now.
and it's real hard.
I miss France more than I can say, and getting used to life back in the States is proving to be really difficult. I hate driving to the grocery store, I hate feeling stranded at my house, I hate how people interact with each other and I really really can't stand being home in general.
This is a short post as I figured I should probably say something about being home, but maybe I'll make a real blog for, you know, real things. I'll let you know.
and it's real hard.
I miss France more than I can say, and getting used to life back in the States is proving to be really difficult. I hate driving to the grocery store, I hate feeling stranded at my house, I hate how people interact with each other and I really really can't stand being home in general.
This is a short post as I figured I should probably say something about being home, but maybe I'll make a real blog for, you know, real things. I'll let you know.
Saturday, May 14, 2011
thanks, mom
Tonight, my mother told Hayley and I to go out for one last dinner in Besancon as I think she was appalled by our plans to stay in and eat dry cereal and lunch meat.
We went to this little Italian place "en ville" that we had gone to twice before and had never let us down. It's food is fantastic, well priced and everyone there is just so nice. Usually, French people get really irritated when you don't speak perfectly and they will respond to your pretty bad French with the most dreadful English you'll ever hear in your life and then treat you like the scum of the earth for the rest of the time you're in their establishment. Not these wonderful people. They appreciate our French and they use the opportunity to practice their English -- something they don't get to do often in Besancon. There's this darling boy who's waited on us two out of the three times who takes our orders in English and when we respond, confirming he had spoken coherently, he struts away proudly, smiling the brightest smile possible. It's nice.
Today was also some semi-cultural event planned by Emilie's friend Charlotte to raise money for some cause. It was something about "the return of" some duck and basically, you bought a rubber duck, decorated it and then sent it floating down the Doubs. It was raining so the "thousands of ducks" Emilie had promised turned out to only be a couple hundred. People huddled under the overpass and watched these "canards" float down the river, some went astray so some guy jumped in the water to rescue them and it was the strangest thing because everyone was so excited. I guess it might have been more exciting had it not been raining.
French Youth amazed at the "canards" floating down the dear ol' Doubs
Hayley looks on at those looking on.
Tomorrow is my last day in Besancon. I've told myself that even if it's raining, I'm going to go walk around to all my favorite places. I don't know when I'll be back here. When I come back to France, there will really be no reason to just come to Besancon -- unless I'm with my rich yachtsman husband and I want to show him where I studied or unless I want to come back and see the new TramWay that is supposed to be finished in 2015.
We went to this little Italian place "en ville" that we had gone to twice before and had never let us down. It's food is fantastic, well priced and everyone there is just so nice. Usually, French people get really irritated when you don't speak perfectly and they will respond to your pretty bad French with the most dreadful English you'll ever hear in your life and then treat you like the scum of the earth for the rest of the time you're in their establishment. Not these wonderful people. They appreciate our French and they use the opportunity to practice their English -- something they don't get to do often in Besancon. There's this darling boy who's waited on us two out of the three times who takes our orders in English and when we respond, confirming he had spoken coherently, he struts away proudly, smiling the brightest smile possible. It's nice.
Today was also some semi-cultural event planned by Emilie's friend Charlotte to raise money for some cause. It was something about "the return of" some duck and basically, you bought a rubber duck, decorated it and then sent it floating down the Doubs. It was raining so the "thousands of ducks" Emilie had promised turned out to only be a couple hundred. People huddled under the overpass and watched these "canards" float down the river, some went astray so some guy jumped in the water to rescue them and it was the strangest thing because everyone was so excited. I guess it might have been more exciting had it not been raining.
French Youth amazed at the "canards" floating down the dear ol' Doubs
Hayley looks on at those looking on.Tomorrow is my last day in Besancon. I've told myself that even if it's raining, I'm going to go walk around to all my favorite places. I don't know when I'll be back here. When I come back to France, there will really be no reason to just come to Besancon -- unless I'm with my rich yachtsman husband and I want to show him where I studied or unless I want to come back and see the new TramWay that is supposed to be finished in 2015.
spent
Blogger has been down the past few days, so I have not been able to access my blog to make any new posts and I assume no one has been able to read it. I guess it's working now.
My room is almost totally packed. I dont like packing as it makes me anxious and I just want it to be done. Today, I have to go to the Knox office to drop off stuff I borrowed from there and I think once I go do that and take out the mounds of trash bags I have laying around, it'll be a little easier to sort things out.
As I strutted out of the CLA for the last time yesterday, I realized I was on summer vacation but it didn't feel like it at all because there's been a complete turn-around in the weather and France is getting kind of chilly. We had a thunderstorm the other day and I think that cooled everything down, which is fine because the Doubs has been really low and I think we needed the rain. It's supposed to rain when I am in Paris, which will be a drag because I don't want to walk around in the rain.
As a "resident of the EU," I can get into most Paris attractions and museums for free. This is good because I have no money left and will also give me something to do. They say it would take you a week, or something, to look at every individual thing in the Louvre, so I'm sure I can fill up a day.
I'm worried I'll get arrested when I come home because we've been talking about regulations for bringing things back and I have purchased a lot of chocolate and mustards for my family... not to mention some wine which I am terrified will be taken from me and I will be dragged into the back room and locked up because I am only 20 and not 21 and while it is acceptable for me to purchase, consume and be in possession of alcohol in France, this is not the case in the United States. I don't see what the problem is if it's buried, unopened at the bottom of my suitcase and I explain nicely that I have just been living in France for a while and I have accumulated gifts and things in the time that I was there and maybe if I offered you some Swiss chocolate, Customs Guy, you'd let me walk the 20 feet to my parents and then they can be the ones in posession of alcohol once I take it out of my suitcase.
I'm also getting really nervous about dragging my suitcase through Paris. It's well over 50lbs so fee paying is inevitable, and that also means that I will struggle to drag my suitcase down the stairs of my building, up the stairs of the bus, through the streets of Besancon to the train station, up the stairs of the TGV, which will be the most hellish, then back down the stairs of the TGV, then through Paris, then on the metro, then around the airport until I check in. Jacob was nice enough to offer to meet me at the train station to help me with my things, so at least it'll be a two person job then.
Did I mention I was meeting Jacob? Jacob is a good friend from High School and he's in Paris with the French group from the community college in Port Huron and so we will meet up on the 16th. Too bad it's going to rain.
I guess this means that "Julia en France" is almost done. I'm sure my last post will be from home, sitting on my bed at 1pm, wishing I could hop on the Ginko bus and go into town and buy a "Maxi Suisse" (a delightful pastry with buttery, croissant-like outside and then this custard and chocolate chip mixture inside) and then sit by the river. I guess I could ride my bike to Bulk Food, buy some circus peanuts and sit by the river or the lake, but that's really not the same, is it?
My room is almost totally packed. I dont like packing as it makes me anxious and I just want it to be done. Today, I have to go to the Knox office to drop off stuff I borrowed from there and I think once I go do that and take out the mounds of trash bags I have laying around, it'll be a little easier to sort things out.
As I strutted out of the CLA for the last time yesterday, I realized I was on summer vacation but it didn't feel like it at all because there's been a complete turn-around in the weather and France is getting kind of chilly. We had a thunderstorm the other day and I think that cooled everything down, which is fine because the Doubs has been really low and I think we needed the rain. It's supposed to rain when I am in Paris, which will be a drag because I don't want to walk around in the rain.
As a "resident of the EU," I can get into most Paris attractions and museums for free. This is good because I have no money left and will also give me something to do. They say it would take you a week, or something, to look at every individual thing in the Louvre, so I'm sure I can fill up a day.
I'm worried I'll get arrested when I come home because we've been talking about regulations for bringing things back and I have purchased a lot of chocolate and mustards for my family... not to mention some wine which I am terrified will be taken from me and I will be dragged into the back room and locked up because I am only 20 and not 21 and while it is acceptable for me to purchase, consume and be in possession of alcohol in France, this is not the case in the United States. I don't see what the problem is if it's buried, unopened at the bottom of my suitcase and I explain nicely that I have just been living in France for a while and I have accumulated gifts and things in the time that I was there and maybe if I offered you some Swiss chocolate, Customs Guy, you'd let me walk the 20 feet to my parents and then they can be the ones in posession of alcohol once I take it out of my suitcase.
I'm also getting really nervous about dragging my suitcase through Paris. It's well over 50lbs so fee paying is inevitable, and that also means that I will struggle to drag my suitcase down the stairs of my building, up the stairs of the bus, through the streets of Besancon to the train station, up the stairs of the TGV, which will be the most hellish, then back down the stairs of the TGV, then through Paris, then on the metro, then around the airport until I check in. Jacob was nice enough to offer to meet me at the train station to help me with my things, so at least it'll be a two person job then.
Did I mention I was meeting Jacob? Jacob is a good friend from High School and he's in Paris with the French group from the community college in Port Huron and so we will meet up on the 16th. Too bad it's going to rain.
I guess this means that "Julia en France" is almost done. I'm sure my last post will be from home, sitting on my bed at 1pm, wishing I could hop on the Ginko bus and go into town and buy a "Maxi Suisse" (a delightful pastry with buttery, croissant-like outside and then this custard and chocolate chip mixture inside) and then sit by the river. I guess I could ride my bike to Bulk Food, buy some circus peanuts and sit by the river or the lake, but that's really not the same, is it?
Wednesday, May 11, 2011
quoi?
I just got out of my writing class and we were discussing how to form solutions to problems.
The problem at hand was obesity and we were supposed to find positive and negaltive solutions.
Naturally, I thought positive solutions might include a healthy diet, regular physical activity, and positive encouragement from others. Negative solutions would be eating disorders, corrective surgeries and verbal abuse.
When it came time for our teacher to write down the examples we had come up with, the positive ideas were thought by her to be realistic but the negative solutions were unacceptable.
Her ideas of negative solutions were things like having the schools control what kids are being served at lunch, requiring kids to take a phsyical education class and having television commercials show kids and role models eating fruits and vegetables.
"What about eating disorders?" I asked.
"Well, that -- no, that doesn't really -- no." she said.
"Why?" I asked again.
"That's a personal choice." my teacher responded quite frankly and unemotionally, moving on quickly to write down something else about kids in school having to take gym class.
So is getting fat, I thought.
Suddenly it occured to me why I was having this conversation and why she was telling the class that eating disorders and liposuction are not negative solutions to an obesity problem -- the French believe that what you do in your own, personal "temps libre" is up to you and as long as you are not inhibitng anyone else's ability to do the same, go right on ahead and do what you need to do.
The French love the concept of the "choix" or "choice." The ability to make your own decisions without the influence of others and to carry out that decision without much thought as to how it might affect those around you. I think it is part of their whole "liberté, égalité, fraternité" thing. I, a citizen of France, am able to do what I need to do. It's very close to the Bill of Rights and Core Democratic Values we learn so much about in elementary school and what we are told makes us "American."
The French do not want to be told that they have no choice but to do one thing or another so the idea of a school cafeteria only offering certain foods, or being forced to watch a commerical for carrots grown in the most favorable of circumstances, or being told that one must participate in physical activity is terrifying because "où est mon choix?" -- where is my choice? Having physical activity or school lunches regulated is an invasion of privacy and "liberté" and is seen as a negative solution here, en France, where it is an absolute reality and ultimately favored in the US.
France's obsession with body image and one's visual role in society is overwhelming and can be sensed in any public situation. At the grocery store, people look to see what you are buying and judge accordingly -- even the cashiers whose job should only be scanning the items and giving you your change. On the street, girls look other girls up and down in comparison and the men peacock like I've never seen. Physical perfection is the ultimate goal and the French are willing to do anything they can to achieve what they feel will attract the most members of the oppostie sex and infuriate members of the same. A situation like this happened a few months ago in my speaking class when a girl gave a speech about weight and keeping a "propre régime." She happened to mention that the girl sitting next to her had lost 20 kilos in 3 months by only eating one apple and one egg a day. Rather than look alarmed and concerned, my teacher showed extreme admiration and said the girl looked great. This is diving into another topic of discussion, but to draw my point in, as long is no one is telling you how to become beautiful, anything goes.
France is strange.
The problem at hand was obesity and we were supposed to find positive and negaltive solutions.
Naturally, I thought positive solutions might include a healthy diet, regular physical activity, and positive encouragement from others. Negative solutions would be eating disorders, corrective surgeries and verbal abuse.
When it came time for our teacher to write down the examples we had come up with, the positive ideas were thought by her to be realistic but the negative solutions were unacceptable.
Her ideas of negative solutions were things like having the schools control what kids are being served at lunch, requiring kids to take a phsyical education class and having television commercials show kids and role models eating fruits and vegetables.
"What about eating disorders?" I asked.
"Well, that -- no, that doesn't really -- no." she said.
"Why?" I asked again.
"That's a personal choice." my teacher responded quite frankly and unemotionally, moving on quickly to write down something else about kids in school having to take gym class.
So is getting fat, I thought.
Suddenly it occured to me why I was having this conversation and why she was telling the class that eating disorders and liposuction are not negative solutions to an obesity problem -- the French believe that what you do in your own, personal "temps libre" is up to you and as long as you are not inhibitng anyone else's ability to do the same, go right on ahead and do what you need to do.
The French love the concept of the "choix" or "choice." The ability to make your own decisions without the influence of others and to carry out that decision without much thought as to how it might affect those around you. I think it is part of their whole "liberté, égalité, fraternité" thing. I, a citizen of France, am able to do what I need to do. It's very close to the Bill of Rights and Core Democratic Values we learn so much about in elementary school and what we are told makes us "American."
The French do not want to be told that they have no choice but to do one thing or another so the idea of a school cafeteria only offering certain foods, or being forced to watch a commerical for carrots grown in the most favorable of circumstances, or being told that one must participate in physical activity is terrifying because "où est mon choix?" -- where is my choice? Having physical activity or school lunches regulated is an invasion of privacy and "liberté" and is seen as a negative solution here, en France, where it is an absolute reality and ultimately favored in the US.
France's obsession with body image and one's visual role in society is overwhelming and can be sensed in any public situation. At the grocery store, people look to see what you are buying and judge accordingly -- even the cashiers whose job should only be scanning the items and giving you your change. On the street, girls look other girls up and down in comparison and the men peacock like I've never seen. Physical perfection is the ultimate goal and the French are willing to do anything they can to achieve what they feel will attract the most members of the oppostie sex and infuriate members of the same. A situation like this happened a few months ago in my speaking class when a girl gave a speech about weight and keeping a "propre régime." She happened to mention that the girl sitting next to her had lost 20 kilos in 3 months by only eating one apple and one egg a day. Rather than look alarmed and concerned, my teacher showed extreme admiration and said the girl looked great. This is diving into another topic of discussion, but to draw my point in, as long is no one is telling you how to become beautiful, anything goes.
France is strange.
Tuesday, May 10, 2011
it's that time of the year again
It's that time of the year when you have nothing to do in class because school ends in 4 days and it'd be pretty silly to try and learn something new.
This also means that you will probably finish whatever lesson is being taught early.
In my writing class, we had 10 minutes left of class and instead of leaving early, the teacher asked us to pull out our latest pieces of writing and read them as slow as we possibly could.
come on.
This also means that you will probably finish whatever lesson is being taught early.
In my writing class, we had 10 minutes left of class and instead of leaving early, the teacher asked us to pull out our latest pieces of writing and read them as slow as we possibly could.
come on.
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