Le Med a La Manche

Salut! I am back in Nantes from a weeklong vacation and it was absolutely incredible. I started out in Marseille, which blew me away.
The city is right on the Mediterranean Sea and it is just buzzing with this amazing North African vibe that permeates everything. The soul of the city is super raw (and a bit dirty) yet at the same time warm and inviting. There are wonderful little winding streets, old buildings with blue-green shutters and orange tile roofs, laundry hanging out to dry, sea gulls chatting away, and so many gorgeous and historic monuments scattered throughout the city.

I climbed the highest point in Marseille to experience the Cathedral of Notre Dame de la Guard and its unbelievable view, took a boat to the islands of Frioul to hike around beautiful secluded beaches and climb on top of old fortresses, had a love affair with cous-cous, and strolled the docks of the Old Port, embracing the sights, sounds and sun.

My hostel was super cool (its called Vertigo and I highly recommend it) and I met a bunch of really great international travelers that I ran around town with. It was such a great experience to meet and get to know other people traveling by themselves because we were all there to do the same thing; see the sights, explore the city, and experience whatever was going on as it unfolded. One of the guys I met there happened to be going to Paris around the same time as I was so we had a Rendez-vous in the Marais with another dude and it was great fun. Lots of random, serendipitous energy going on.


Paris was beautiful, as always, and I stayed with a girlfriend Ali Mandelkorn, who lives near Saint Sulpice and St. Germain de Pres. We spent three days strolling through Paris, seeing a few sights and being tourists for a minute, and then getting drunk on cheap champagne and going to bars to find new boyfriends.

The boyfriend hunt was kinda bunk for me because though we went to Paris’ largest gay bar, Queen, located on the Champs Elysees, it was ladies night, which meant tons of girls (no cover charge for them) and tons of straight guys trying to take advantage. Ali found about 4 prospects and I was left with a bunch of Italian girls that didn’t really understand that though I was interested in their bangin’ outfits and hair, I wasn’t that interested in taking them home.


My last stop was St. Lo in Lower Normandy to visit a good family friend, Christine. The minute I got off the train I went with her and her colleagues to an amazing 4-course lunch at a beautiful restaurant, which was one of the most delicious meals I had ever had. Seriously. I had lamb and the meat was so tender it was literally running away from the bone. Christine has a fantastic house, a friendly maid named Renée, a golden lab named Lucky (but pronounced Look-y because he’s French) and I was able to have a whole guest suite to myself. I took baths and showers at the same time (just cause I could), slept in a big bed, and ate tons of fabulous food.


We went on a tour of the coast of La Manche and visited tiny ports, beautiful coastal towns, had a seafood luncheon by the docks of St. Vaast, saw the D-day beaches, and basically did a lot of standing, looking, inhaling, and wow-ing in silence. Normandy is bitchin’.


I returned super revitalized and inspired by the whole thing and am feverishly planning and setting into motion my next Tour de France in April. I have a lot of time to plan too because the University is back on strike. If there’s anything I’ve learned here in France its that if it looks like a duck, quacks like a duck, and walks like a duck, its probably a strike. Vive la Grève.

Fight for the Night

We went out. Finally! Luba and I fought the urge to stay in and nest and got our Saturday night on! There is a club venue here in Nantes called Hangar a Bananes, which is a bit of a trek (its on an island and a 20 minute walk from the Tram stop) but we figured if we kept saying “we’ll TOTALLY go next weekend”, it’d never happen. So I whipped out my Google map skills, located the club complex via aerial photograph, used a website that I use to map distances for running to calculate the distance from Tram stop to the front door (it was 1.38 miles), checked the weather report, and bought a bottle of supermarket brand vodka. After the 3-S’s of night-out preparation (Shit, Shower, and Shave) I was ready!



Turns out that though Google maps shows you the street layout, they don’t tell you that you might have to walk for 15 minutes through a construction site that may or may not be closed to the public. Luba and I were pretty drunk from “front-loading” in my room and I just told her “pretend we’re walking in a sand-box” (because that’s really fun when you’re wearing Gucci Boots and cashmere?).


Once we found the complex it was wondrous! Hangar a Bananes is a huge warehouse overlooking the water at the end of the Ile de Nantes that houses about 15 bars and clubs. We had a moment in about 4 different bars, mixed rum with vodka, I knocked over a trashcan, Luba chatted with her Mom at 1:15am (sometimes you gotta make do with the time difference between France and Alaska, even when you’re trashed at a bar with an island theme…), took some photos next to the urinals in a bathroom with cool graffiti, and then ran (again through the construction site) to catch the last Tram home at 2:30. We’re officially no longer those Americans hanging out in the dorm kitchen on a Saturday night choosing to drink 0.95 Euro wine till 11pm instead of going out.

BLOCUS

If you thought the Grève was fun times, Blocus will make your head spin! So we already knew that France really hates not getting its way (or going to class) but today, communal procrastination just reached a new high! BLOCUS! Its pretty wonderful. Its where students decide to block all of the entrances to the academic buildings with big signs saying “BLOCUS!” and all classes get cancelled. Ok, I know you’re thinking “psh, ya just like the Grève, show me something I didn’t just read in the blog post below…” Well, here’s the kicker: Blocus lasts for a week. Yup, went to the secretary, asked what the word on the Blocus was (apparently during the Blocus the secretary is visible and existent, unlike during the Grève) and she said that there was a manif (manifestation= big gathering where people complain en masse) and that all classes would be cancelled until Wednesday. Apparently the university system is in great need of reform and both students and teachers are not too happy about it. Needless to say I’m SUPER down with the Blocus (seriously considering buying the T-shirt). As I was walking toward the Tram I ran into some sassy Italian Erasmus exchange students from my sociology class and we spoke of the wonder that is French University closure.


I went into the Centre-Ville and went to the SNCF boutique to buy the last train tickets for my weeklong vacation, which is coming up in a week and a half! I will be doing my first bit of solo travel and I’m super stoked! I’m heading first to the Mediterranean city of Marseille, the 2nd largest city in France with a huge Moroccan/West African influence. I’m kicking it in a cool hostel, seeing the sights, drinking the Pastis, eating the Bouillabaisse and speaking French with the locals. Then I’m headed to Paris to do some museum-ing, sightseeing, wining, dining, and partying with my friend Ali Mandelkorn (Ali goes to Scripps College for Women in the Claremont College Consortium). I finish my P’tit sejour with a visit to St. Lô in the Normandy region, to stay with a family friend, Christine (if you’ve been following along, Christine is the mother of Ewa, my fantastic French hostess from my first days here in Nantes. When Christine was in high school she was an exchange student in the US with my Grandmother, so she and my family go way back).


Since last we spoke I also worked things out with the Office of International Student Affairs here at the University of Nantes and in about 2 weeks I should begin getting 300 Euro per month for the duration of my stay! It will come in handy to cover my travel expenses (those drinks wont pay for themselves…).
Attached is a photo of l’Eglise de Saint Nicholas located in the Centre-Ville, next to the café where I spent my afternoon reading about French Nationalism in the 18th century and drinking espresso. Its kinda big so I captured it in three photos. Enjoy.

So we Greve-ed.

After the unfortunate cancellation of my first class, I decided to just assume that my second class would be canceled and hopped downtown to see the Greve going on in full force! Its more of a ceremonial "Strike" than an actual break down the walls, burn your shoes, kill your neighbor type deal that I was expecting. It was very, Bring the Kids, Grandma will be there, all of the patisseries will be open so you can have a croissant, all while watching farmers, telecomunications employees, and senior citizens march slowly to the beats of American 80's pop. Everyone was taking photos, giggling, and enjoying some good 'ol Greve action! Everyone's invited! Think Labor Day Parade. Emma and I had such a great time we decided to have a celebratory cake afterwards. Enjoy the photos!

La Grève! (and other things French)

Today France is doing what it does best: La Grève. This means Strike, and people here eat it up. They love striking. Its sort of like supporting a national sports team or watching American Idol. Its a fun activity you can do with all of your friends to speak out against the man, not work (but still keep your job and get paid), not go to school, and yell a lot. It has a very snow-day-esque feel about it too. For instance yesterday, at the bank, I needed to pick something up and the woman said "well its not here now but come back tonight, but not tomorrow because there's a good chance there will be a strike and we'll be closed!" She was really excited about it. She was also sort of reclining and half doing her job and I wanted to say, "listen sweetie, you're not on strike yet, finish helping me first..." (But the inefficiency of French bureaucracy is something I’ll go into later). All around town people were saying "Oh, ya La Grève tomorrow, things will be closed! No trams! No elementary school! No mail! Can't wait!” sort of like Pacific Northwesterners would say, "Did you see the weather report? SNOW! Its a comin' tomorrow and everything’s gonna be closed!" When I woke up this morning I looked out my window in the 6am darkness looking for La Grève like I'd look for a white blanket of snow. I waited to see signs of unrest or organized closure but alas the Tram rode by and I felt a little let down.


I was told that the University doesn't necessarily observe La Grève but after waking up at 6:15 for my 8am class (to compensate for the possibility of no tram), no one was there. I went to the secretary of the History department to ask if maybe the course moved or if it was in fact cancelled, and she said "I'm closed". I wanted to say, "Wait, I don't understand, you're right there! I can see you! You're not fooling me." But instead I just said "OK", re-checked my classroom (now 8:15) and decided that I had been yet another victim of La Grève.


Now for some other fun French things:
Efficiency and Accountability in French Bureaucracy- Both do not exist. This will be a new recurring feature in my blog. First Example: The other night I had trouble with Internet and went to check the "trouble with your internet?" sign on the info board in the hall. The first three "suggestions" were very helpful, suggesting such useful things as "enter your user name!" "Enter your password!" "Make sure both are correct!" (I totally wouldn't have gotten those on my own), and then it said, "It is your responsibility to make sure that your Internet works". Wait, what? My responsibility? I mean I really want it to work, and I'm trying, but its not my server or my building, how am I responsible for it not working? The icing on the cake you ask? The last suggestion: "If you are still having problems with your internet connection please send an e-mail to the following address...” I just sat with that one for a minute... no internet... send an e-mail for help with internet... but don't have internet to access e-mail... Thanks.


So on a happier note, Things France does REALLY well... American Candy! Of course everyone knows that France has wonderfully good pastries, chocolate, and other tasty delights but surprisingly, they make popular American candies about 100 x better than America does. A Snickers bar in France begins with a wonderful world of deliciously rich and tantalizing chocolate, darker and much more complex than the hard, mildly sweet chocolate shell of its American counterpart. It then oozes with Caramel that actually tastes like... Caramel! Its much sweeter, milkier, gooier, and smoother than the American compromise, and it makes all the difference. The nougat is also softer and lighter, as if prepared for immediate consumption rather than bomb-shelter storage (again a reference to the inferior American bar of the same name). The same can be said for Kit-Kat bars and Peanut M&M's! The Peanut M&M's feature a sweeter, thicker shell that breaks with a crisp crunch exposing almost double the amount of chocolate surrounding the peanut than the American M&M Peanut. Again the chocolate is of higher quality, which allows for maximum enjoyment. This is just a primer for my many future blog posts on Baguette Sandwiches, my views on butter as a condiment, cheese, gummy candies, teas, and 0.99 Euro wine! Don't think I'm just eating familiar American favorites while I'm over here... oh no, I'm just helping you Americans hop onboard for your culinary journey across the Atlantic. Peace, Love, and Grève

So you let the University know we were coming, right?

So the first week of classes went pretty well. I find that my comprehension is growing leaps and bounds but my speaking abilities are nowhere near as refined or articulate as my French counterparts'. So I keep my mouth shut most of the time. I'm slowly figuring out the protocol for things like scarf wearing (you take your scarf off when you're seated in class... if coat comes off, scarf comes off), university restroom usage (just because there's a woman on the door doesn't mean that you can't go in and do your thing), and note taking (apparently you have to have at least 13 colors of pen and always underline things with a ruler).

The Pitzer College study abroad department has seriously fucked up in the last week. It turns out that they forgot to register and pay for one of the Pitzer students studying over here (my friend Emma, one of only 3 Pitzer students here mind you). She received an e-mail after her first day of classes saying that there was no record of her as a student at the University of Nantes. Really Pitzer? So you still expect us to pay full tuition for a semester but you couldn't verify that one of your students, who you sent halfway around the world, was ACTUALLY ENROLLED?? Nice. Fabulous. You're really earning your keep. Needless to say there will be some letter writing to the Dean.
Once we figured out that minor detail, we thought we were in the clear but... nope. Yesterday evening we received a letter saying that our rent payment was late and that if payment wasn't received, our bill would be sent to a collections agency and we would be asked to vacate the dorm. Pitzer had made it explicitly clear (in writing) that our housing would be paid for entirely so the fact that a) payment is late and b) we're even being notified individually to pay, is utterly and completely innapropriate. And a huge joke.

Though we then felt like castaways in a strange and foreign land, we decided that everything would eventually work out, and realized that the only thing we could do was drink a bottle of wine, eat some chocolate and biscuits and try to laugh about it.


Its been quite stormy but we are going to venture into the cold and try and have some fun. Sorry for the bitch-fest of a post but its sort of my world right now. Stay tuned! Hopefully we won't be homeless by next post. Enjoy these pictures of Beautiful Nantes!

First day of school!

So had my first day of classes today! It was fun/stressful. Everything is taught in French (I take my courses as if I were a regular French student), which is exciting because it will give me a chance to improve my comprehension at a rapid pace. It will also give me the chance to get really frustrated and then choose not to listen and decide to eat almonds out of a zip-lock bag hidden in the pocket of my peacoat instead. (I didn't actually do that but if I wanted to I totally could have.)
So in French University land, you usually have two sessions for each course: a Course Magistrale (CM), which is a big lecture class held in a lecture hall with 100+ students, and a Travaux Diriges (TD), which consists of smaller group work (20-40 students) and is held in a classroom. My first class was a History of Modern Art course (CM). My schedule said that it started at 9am but when I opened the door to the Amphitheatre that it was held in, at around 8:45am, class had clearly started and was already in progress. I had opened the door at the bottom of the Amphitheatre so everyone could see me peek my head in, which was terrifying, so i just shut the door and stayed in the hall to contemplate my next move. I went upstairs to the entrance that would be at the top of the Amphitheatre and found a woman who explained that lecture was separated into two parts, Architechture (8-9am) and then Painting (the course I was signed up for, 9-10am) and that they have a smoke break in the middle, and that's when I could go in. Without that bit of knowledge I probably would have just stayed in the hall, shitting my pants and peeking through the crack of the door trying to figure out what to do.
So that class was great, had about 200 students, discussed religious themed artwork of Europe in the 1600's and I understood most of what was said. My next class, Modern History (CM), decided that it was going to change both time and location without notifying anyone, so I ended up waiting at the wrong Amphiteatre, then going to another building to speak with the History secretary to find out where and when my class had moved to. Turns out it was 2 floors up and started an hour earlier than my schedule said. So I caught the last 30 minutes of that course (the professor was talking about taxation without representation in the English colonies of America) and then had a Sandwich with Emma, a super fun Pitzer student who is also studying here.
My last course of the day was the TD session of my History of Modern Art course, which was great because I was there on time, and we received an assignment, did it in class, turned it in at the end of class, and then left with no assigned homework. I went up to the professor at the end of the class and she confirmed that there wouldn't ever be work outside of class. Ever. Super.
They have all of these wonderful cafes around campus, all of which serve espresso, and you have to drink it sitting down, there is no such thing as coffee "to-go". The equivalent (sort of the equivalent but not really) would be getting a tiny coffee from the vending machine, "go"-ing outside, and drinking it while you smoke a cigarette and chat with your friends.
I went for splendid run through village-y neighborhoods near my dorm that led me down to the dirt path that follows the river Erdre. I kept running until I hit a field of horses and then decided to turn back. My rural french countryside running skills are still developing (i.e. I don't know how to get horse shit off of my shoes yet so i wasn't gonna go there...).
I watched Obama's big day on CNN live on my computer, made a dope ham and ementhal cheese omlette for dinner with my Pitzer lady friends, and am now I will go to bed early. I have a 9:30am date with the laundry facilities (which I had to make an appointment for oddly enough) tomorrow morning. My French is getting better by the day which is very nice. See you guys later!