First, Paris:
I live in a really beautiful Haussmanian apartment in the northern 16th arrondisement. From my street, I have a partial view of the Eiffel Tower, and am about a 10 minute walk from the Arc de Triomph. The metro I take to school (in Montparnasse) is the ligne 6, which is mostly above ground and takes me right by the Tour Eiffel :)
My host mother, Elisabeth, is just what you'd expect out of a Parisienne: 61 but looks 41, tan, thin, impeccably dressed, an excellent cook (4 course meals nightly), likes talking about politics, has a dog (Végas) and a cat (Vic). There are two other American girls living in the apartment. Both are great at French, so it's nice to have them around to chat with.
Our dinners usually consist of some sort of salad or charcuterie, followed by a main dish of meat, a fromage course, and a dessert. And of course, bread, which you do not place on you plate but rather directly on the table. It's rare that our dinners are just my host mom and the other girls and me. Often, my host mom's friend Hédvige (Hedwig) comes over--on which nights dinners (which start at 9 or later) are especially long. A few times, the rest of Elisabeth's family (her three grown children and husband who lives apart) have come over for dinner. On those nights, hors d'oeuvres, dinner, and post-dinner drinks literally take the whole soirée.
Not going to lie, the first few dinners with Elisabeth and Hédvige were really a challenge. Partially because they were late at night (when you're worst at your non-native language) and partially because they talk rapidly about people and things I know little to nothing about.
But now I can concentrate less hard and absorb more, which is a really good feeling. My oral French is improving, and I'm definitely learning some colloquialisms (even though a lot of the time I don't realize it).
Some of my favorites:
1. c'est normale (sometimes if I say c'est gentille (that's nice) to my host mom, she will say mais non, c'est normale! It's sort of like... no, that's expected, or that's nothing out of the ordinary.)
2. à toute (short for à toute à l'heure, "see you later")
So far, most people have thought I'm anglaise... which, though they realized I'm anglophile, at least they get the nationality wrong!
The Stanford program is housed in the top floor of ISEP (Institut Supérieur d'Electronique de Paris), which is in the 6e. All of our classes are held in the same room, so it's kind of like elementary school again. My three classes are all interesting, but the professors vary from extremely strict and "French" (my colonisation professor...who told us our presentations had to be exactly 20 minutes, not 15 or 25) to really relaxed (my European Integration teacher). My third course is architecture- though I'd say it's equally a history class- and we take a field trip to different parts of Paris every Wednesday. I like it because it takes me to places I probably wouldn't ordinarily discover. Last week we toured inside of the Opéra Garnier, which is m
ore ornate even than Versailles. Right around school there are tons of places to eat lunch--anything from crèpes to delicious hot chocolate at Café Cassette (thanks Ellen!) to cheap soup to Thai.
On Thursday afternoon, I participated in a program at the Jacques Prévert Socio-culturel institut, which is an afterschool program for children and families (mostly recent immigrants). It's funded by the municipality and values family and community building, as well as school success. They invite Stanford students to come help their students with their English homework, or just chat in French or English. I went with 3 other Stanford students, and we had a really great time helping the remarkably well-behaved kids and learning a little bit about the French schooling system. I think there are a lot of things Europe does better than the U.S. (not wasting food, public transportation) but education is not one of them. I really think that at both the K12 and higher education levels, the United States' education system allows for mor
e creativity and innovation --and especially at the university level-- a much more well-rounded education.
On Wednesday night, I went to a football match with my language partner and two of his friends. It was the équipe de Paris (Paris-St Germain) against Valenciennes, a town in the north. The match ended in a 2-2 tie, but it was still really cool to see the Paris soccer spirit f
or myself! One thing to note: in France, even football fans go on strike. Yes, that's right. In the Parc au Princes (where Paris plays), the sections behind the two goals are reserved for two rival organizations (Boulogne and Aurteil (sp?) ) who have crazy cheers and signs. But apparently, Aurteil got in trouble at one of the games, so their organization was somehow disbanded (I'm not terribly clear on the details... I was hearing all this in French). So, all the members of the organization still get to go to the games, but to show their frustration at being "disbanded," they went en grêve, on strike! Essentially,
this just means they stood in the stands looking somber and not cheering for the first 30 minutes of the game. The "strike" only lasted until Paris scored its first goal, but I really thought it was funny when my language partner leaned over and said, in French, "they're not ch
eering because they're on strike." Only in France...
Next, Bretagne: The land of Quicksand and Oysters
I spent a weekend in Bretagne with the rest of the Stanford program. We spent the first day and night at the awe-inspiring island abbey of Mont St. Michel. (If you don't know, Mont St Michel is an abbey built on a tiny, pointed "island" off the coast of Western France. It's only an island when the tide is in, and when the tide is out, it's attached to land. pretty cool!) I have to admit that the one road on the island of Mt St Michel, which smells sugary because of all the gaufres and is full of tourists-- reminded me a lot of Disneyland... However, the abbey itself was completely different. Our tour guide in the abbey constantly reminded us that everything was built "sans éléctricité, sans ordinateur," which seems obvious, but is actually incredibly remarkable when you think about the fact that the complex, beautiful abbey was constructed on a desolate half-island/half-mainland area starting around 900.
The next day we hiked for almost two hours to the Ile Tombeleine, an island in the Bay of Mont St Michel. Because the tide was extremely low, we were able to hike mostly through sand and a few shallow rivers to reach the island, from which we had amazing views of the abbey. The BEST part, however, was when the guide told us about the dangers of the bay (currents, tides, quicksand...) and then proceeded to teach us how to make quicksand. Essentially, you find appropriate sand (has a lot of water pockets inside), and everyone starts jumping up and down. Pretty soon the sand starts lurching from side to side, next it starts cracking, and all of a sudden--- you start to sink! Our guide told us that it's actually impossible to get entirely sucked in by quicksand (you'll float, because it's just water inside), so we had a lot of fun making and playing in the sables mouvants.
Later that day we headed to Cancale, oyster capital of France, to an oyster farm where I had my very first oyster. I can't say whether or not I liked it... From Cancale we headed to Saint Malo, a historic town that was completely destroyed (by Americans) in World War II, but rebuilt in exactly the same style. Jacques Cartier (think Canada, not diamonds) was from here! From Saint Malo we took a boat to Dinard, one of Bretagne's stations balnéaire (finally, a word from the text book comes in handy!) where absorbed some great views of the English channel.
St Jean de Luz!
Peter and I both took trains to a convenient half-way point between Paris and Madrid: St Jean de Luz, in the Basque country of France on the Atlantic coast. It was a perfect choice-- we could walk everywhere, got to try Basque cuisine while still enjoying French patisseries for breakfast, and had a few hours of sunshine to sit on the beach :)
I really had no idea how different the Basque culture really is. I think Peter got a little frustrated with me when I didn't know what everything was on the menu (we were, after all, in France, so shouldn't I know?). No, most everything in restaurants was in Basque--and while I understood the ingredients, which were listed in French, I didn't know what Axoa or chipirons were. It turns out that chipirons are baby squid, still with their ink--I learned this by ordering a chipirons risotto dish that was entirely black from the ink and turned my lips black. At least I got a story out of it!
We had a really nice hike north up the coast, and got to see the church where Louis XIV was married, and spent a little bit of time on the beach when the sun came out!
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