Spring has finally come to Aix.  Everything is blooming, and the sun is always shining.  It has been a beautiful week, and nearly the entire population of Aix has spent the majority of the day lounging around the parks.  The one cloud on the horizon is that the situation at the university has not improved, and in fact, may have worsened.

Monday, no class.  Tuesday, no class.  Wednesday, no class.  The reason for this can be seen in the picture at the right.  The students on strike have taken the chairs and tables from the classrooms and barricaded the doors and the halls.  This is a picture of the main hall in my university building.  The students in the picture are from my class.  It took us a while to decide what to do with our days, since we had planned on spending most of the time learning.  The sign says "The struggle is class against class."  (This meaning class as in upper class and lower class, not class as in under-water basket weaving.)  There are always students hanging around the barricades, making sure that no one tries to sneak through.  It's quite intimidating.  

Sarkozy is trying to make the French university system more competitive, which includes some major reforms that no one seems to like.  All the students who are trying to go to class, mainly the international students, are hoping for a quick resolution.

In the end, the question is who is the strike actually hurting?   

Even more of Paris

We got to see a very interesting sight while under the Eiffel Tower.  This model was trying to do a shoot under the tower with the tourists just grouping around her.  I felt so sorry for her because 1) it was freezing out and she must have weighed a hundred pounds, 2) the men kept trying to get in the shots with her, which would make her laugh, and then ruin the shot, and 3) everyone was trying to get a picture of her so there was a huge mass of people that she had to try to work around (including my friends and I...)

More of Paris

Very small door in the Louvre that had been removed from some building and placed against a wall.  Its purpose?  I obviously do not know.

Very nice shot of the Seine with Notre Dame in the background.

Amy and I jumping for joy.

Shot of the very modern pyramid that sits outside the museum and serves as the main entrance.  There was a decade of debates over whether or not that pyramid was a disaster or a triumph.  I haven't decided because I'm afraid a French person will ask my opinion of it, and then I'll be told, in very strong language, exactly why I am wrong.

Le Louvre

I don't know about you, but I would have loved to have elementary school field trips in the Louvre.  

Amy and Nicole were trying to reenact the the sculpture.

Two shots of my favorite rooms in the Louvre.

Winged Victory

Nothing Special

Since I do not have anything that is of particular interest to write about this week, I figured I would do another, "This is why the French are crazy," post, except backwards.  Living in a foreign country has helped me gain a better perspective of the American culture, which can be seen as a blessing and a curse.  I came up with a little checklist to help anyone traveling abroad be able to spot their fellow Americans in a crowd.

How to spot the Americans in a crowd:

1. Look for smiles.  Americans tend to be overly happy.

2. Listen for poor pronunciation of common French words.  If Bonjour sounds like "Bun-jer", watch out. 

3. Keep an eye out for books titled "The Essential French Phrase Book: All You Need to Know for Your Vacation," or "The Beginner's Guide to French," or "Speak it like a Native."

Over the weekend, my friend and I stayed in a small, French hotel near the center of Paris.  Being the only one who spoke French, I had to communicate all of our wishes and needs to the concierge.  He explained to me that there had been a problem with one of the wings of the hotel, and they were going to have to move us to another hotel.  I then translated this into English for my friends.  The concierge then asked me where we were from, and I told him that we were from the States.  He looked at me for a moment and then complimented my French.  I assumed he was complimenting the fact that my accent was not strong enough for him to automatically assume that we were Americans.  He said, "No, its just that most Americans think they can speak French, but cannot."  It didn't sound much like a compliment after all...

4. Beware of beer-bellies, sweatshirts, and baseball caps.  

All dead giveaways.

I had one specifically harrowing experience on the metro while in Paris that was so stereo-typical of Americans, that I could not keep from laughing.  Three or four people squeezed onto the metro with backpacks and luggage (doesn't automatically mean American).  My friend and I were sitting on seats that face the doors, so as these people were trying to get on, we had a front row seat to what French see as typical American.  One of the guys, in particular, had just barely made it into the train because his potbelly was so big that he was having trouble squeezing in.  He decided to try and turn a bit so his backpack wouldn't get caught in the doors.  By turning, he virtually blocked me from any avenue of escape.  When his wife kindly mentioned, "Honey, you're about to squish that poor girl." (insert me trying to awkwardly turn my head so I didn't eat his backpack)

He replied, "What?" (spoken at typical American volume, which is about ten decibels higher than the French)

"You're about to hit that girl with your bag."  (Insert other passengers beginning to stare) "What?  Oh right, sorry.  I mean desolee." (insert very poor pronunciation of the French word for sorry)

So the man adjusts about two centimeters, I can now face forward in my seat.  Then, the train decides to take a turn, and the very large man loses his balance.  Bam.  Face full of backpack loudly accompanied by more poorly pronounced "Desolees".

  

5. Watch for the chronic line-makers

If someone is trying to form a line, anywhere, everywhere, whether it is necessary or not, assume they are American. 

If someone becomes upset over the fact that there is not a line, assume they are American.  

If someone becomes uncomfortable due to the fact that the European version of line is "form a compact, semi-circle around the cashier", assume they are American.  

If someone leaves so much room in between himself and the next person in line that other people are cutting in because they didn't realize there was a line, assume said person is American.  

I have done a few posts bashing some ridiculous French habits, so I thought I would just remind myself that Americans can be just as ridiculous.  These are mostly extremes, but I have come across most of them (or been guilty of them) enough times to realize that there is some truth behind all the French grumbling.

Until next time.

Elise

Paris

One of the best things about France is that it has a very fast train that runs directly to Paris from Aix en Provence in about three hours (when the workers are not on strike).  I decided to skip class on Friday so I could head up to Paris for a long weekend with one of my friends who lives in Spain.  This trip was interesting because neither of the girls I was going with speak any French, only Spanish, which meant I was the translator...

Once I got over the mind-numbing fear, I was actually quite excited to show the girls around one of my favorite cities.  We spent the first day in the Louvre, which, even though I have spent about twenty hours in the museum, I still find new rooms and new paintings that I have never seen before.  Its an overwhelming feeling knowing how many masterpieces are in one building, and how many masterpieces I just cannot seem to appreciate.  There are only so many paintings of a somewhat masculine-looking Mother Mary holding a blonde haired, blue-eyed baby Jesus that I can stare at before I have to move on to another era.  But the girls were extremely impressed with the size of the museum as well as the amount of art, and my love for the Louvre has grown every time I have been, so I was happy to see the Mona Lisa for the third time.  We had quite a bit of fun trying to dodge the Japanese that seem to have overrun nearly every part of Paris.  They tend to surround the Mona Lisa, which is never a problem for me because I stand a head taller than all of them, but the other girls had to use their best European manners to shove their way through the throng.

Throughout the weekend, we were able to hit most of the major sights: Le Tour Eiffel, L'Arc de Triomphe, Sacre Coeur, and Versailles.  We spent a lovely afternoon biking around the grounds of the Chateau Versailles, which is just outside of Paris (Marie Antoinette lived there until the Revolutionaries beheaded her...)  It is always moving to be in a place with so much history.  We saw the bedroom of the queen and the door that she had escaped through the first time the Revolutionaries stormed the palace.  

One of the highlights of the trip was being able to see a concert in the Opera House of Paris, which was the inspiration for the book, The Phantom of the Opera.  Usually tickets are about 100 Euro a seat, but when they have open seats, they sell them to students for 10.  It was quite the deal, and we were all very excited about it.  The Opera House is so beautiful that its very hard to concentrate on the music because your trying to memorize all the details of the hall.

In the end, a long weekend in Paris turned out to be just the thing I needed.  The stress of living in the South of France, having perfect weather all the time, and being so close to the ocean, sometimes makes me want to get out of town for a while.  Paris was the perfect answer.

Hope everyone is doing well.  I love get emails!

EQ

I'm heading to Paris for five days, so I will be back soon with photos and more stories, hopefully.

La Greve in Real Life

Today was the day that La Greve affected me, personally.  I had heard various rumors circling around that Le Fac de Lettre (my university) was going to be barricaded last night, but this wasn't the first rumor that had circulated about blockades.  So today I woke up with every intention of going to class and learning.  My first clue that the rumors may have been true was that the typical stream of students that flow towards the university in the morning, was surprisingly light.  It was myself and about five others, and once we reached the gate, we realized that last night's rumors had been fact.  The gate entrance was shut and locked and the doors to the buildings were blocked as well.  

Its an interesting experience standing outside a locked gate, looking onto the barricaded university, holding your books and papers, and just staring.  It usually took about a minute for the students to walk up to the gates, stare at the locks and fences, and then turn and walk away, most likely going to find something else to fill their day.  I stood there a few minutes longer than most because it was hard for me to accept the concept of being locked out of my university, when I had every intention of attending all my classes, like the good American student that I am.  Its hard to know that students in America pray for snow days or cancelled classes or just decide to skip anyway, but students in France, pray that they can get their undergraduate in four years, instead of having it drawn out into four and a half or five years because of all the strikes.  

Some of my friends from Denmark were explaining to me their fears of La Greve because one of their friends was here last year and had to take an extra semester of classes to make up for the semester he lost during another strike.  Last year!  It hasn't even been a calendar year since the last time they barricaded the doors.  I am lucky enough to still have professors willing to teach but that hardly makes a difference when we can't get into the building.  

On the bright side, the weather is fantastic and barricaded doors could mean that the end is in sight.  We'll just have to wait and see.

Elise

La Lutte, La Greve, & Life in General

Well, I witnessed my very first French protest.  Actually, that is not true.  My first time in Paris, three years ago, we were lucky enough to be in France during all of the uprisings in the banlieues (suburbs) of Paris.  Cars were being burned, the police were entering previously declared "no go" zones, and there was general discontent.  I got lucky enough to see one of the protests outside the hotel window.  I think it was something about racism, the outrageous level of unemployment in the 18-25 age group, and the fact that Chirac wanted to make firing an employee less difficult.  

You have to understand that a french business cannot fire an employee (except for something like stealing) until after the employee has worked there for two years.  The philosophy behind this is that workers will not have to worry to much about job security.  Instead, this policy has lead to employers being overly cautious when hiring, which has left the younger age group with a poor chance of finding a job. So Chirac had the brilliant idea of making firing employees a bit simpler, which would then help to free up the job market.   As with any change, the French people were in uproar, and there was general mayhem.  It was for this reason that Parisians were protesting, but the greater problem was within the banlieues. 

For all their claims of being modern and forward-thinking, France is still caught-up in issues that should have been dealt with generations ago.  One of the main issues is racism.  Its hard to describe the banlieues of Paris as suburbs, because in American terms, a suburb is a beautiful grouping of single-family homes, full of bicycles, picket-fences, and general domestic bliss.  The word banlieue, in French, has a more negative connotation.  It is in the banlieue that all the immigrants live, because of the lower cost of living.  It is extremely difficult for immigrants to find respectable jobs, even for the second-generation immigrants.  It was the unemployment due to racism in the system that lead to a sort of revolt in the areas outside of Paris.  There are still "no-go" zones in the banlieues and there is still racism in the system, but for now, there has been a general declaration of peace for the moment.

So because it is the French way of life to always revolte against something or someone, and because the problems in the banlieues have settled down, they have turned their attention to the education system.  Seventy universities in France are now on strike.  My friend's university in Pau was barricaded shut by some of the students.  I have been lucky enough not to be affected by la greve (the strike), but it has been extremely difficult for some of the other, less fortunate students when their professors refuse to teach.  

Mostly, they are fighting against the French public university system in general.  They want more housing scholarships, more university residences, and they want more equality in diplomas.  What that means is that there are some universities in France that are extremely renown, and that, if you are lucky enough to get into one, you will be set for life after graduating.  It's kind of like Harvard on steroids.  The students and professors are fighting for more equality among the universities, so that graduating from one or another will not help or hinder them in their future employment. 

Today, I witnessed the protest that was filing down the main road in Aix.  There was quite a bit of yelling, both from the students and professors, and from the crowds surrounding them.  I heard one man yell, "Go back to work!" while the students and professors were yelling, "Resistance!"  I wasn't too worried about safety.  It is required by law to inform the police before a protest, so the event was very well covered by men in uniforms (although French police don't have the same kind of freedom to use force as they do in the States, but that's for another post).  Anyways, the most interesting part of the protest was the volume of everything.  Having spent the last two months with French people who whisper on their cell phones so as not to disturb those around them, it was quite a statement to have them raise their voices to that level (somewhere in between a normal, American conversation, and a yell).  

I have yet to see the results of this action, but, as one French man once told me, "The only way to get anything done in France is to strike." So I sincerely hope that this will make a difference, or else I'm afraid every student will have to take another semester of classes to catch up after this little episode.

From Flappable France,

Elise        

Now I know why books are written about the French

One of the best parts of my travels during winter vacation was that I got to spend a lot of time with younger and older generations of French people.  There have been chapters written on the differences between how the French and English view personal space and personal matters.  I know understand why they were chapters and not just sentences randomly tacked onto the end of another subject.

  

Differences: 

1) Names.  It is not rude to ask people's names over and over again in France, because its not considered an important part of meeting someone.  Usually you just mumble it while going in for the kisses on the cheeks, and if you turn out to be an interesting person, they will ask you for it again, because now they consider it worth knowing.

2) What makes a person interesting.  I have been trained, from infancy, on the specifics of how to make conversation and how to keep it going when meeting someone new.  You ask their name, what they do for a living, where they grew up, if they enjoy their line of work, etc.  In France, most, if not all, of these questions would be considered rude.  The French, when meeting someone knew, instead of asking questions, bring up an interesting topic, such as whether or not Barack Obama is really a Christian or whether the stimulus plan will actually be effective.  From the ensuing debate, small bits of personal information will be unveiled.  That is how you make an acquaintance and how you decide whether or not remembering their name will be worthwhile.  

3) The idea of what is personal.  A very lovely French couple invited Claire (my friend in Pau), her roommate, and I to dinner at their house.  When we made it to their house, the host asked all of us our names and then wrote them down in a little book so he if he forgot any of them he could just look in his little book, which he did from time to time.  In America, I would have already gone through a basic background check (SSN, friends and family, facebook, etc.) before inviting someone to dinner.  

So even though they will invite almost strangers into their homes, those aforementioned strangers would be out of their minds to ask to use the bathroom or to expect a tour of the home.  Dinner might be easy to get invited to, but do not expect to see the rest of the home or the kitchen.  These are considered private areas of the home and only family will ever be invited into them.  

Insert funny story:

The lovely older couple that invited us to dinner mentioned that she was German and had moved to France during college, while he has lived in Pau all of his life.  She adores traveling, and one time on a flight from the States to Paris, she sat next to a WWII veteran.  When he heard her speaking in French to her husband, he says, "Oh, Madame, I fought for you at Normandie!"  She didn't have the heart to tell him that she was German and that he had actually fought against her country.  So she just quietly thanked him.  

Ironic?

4) Their language is everything.  They will correct you when you get it wrong.  I have heard Americans complain that even though a French person knows English, they will still speak in French.  Typically, they do this because they think that we have as fond of feelings for our native language as they do for theirs and would rather not offend us by making mistakes in English.  

The French often talk about how rich their language is, which is interesting because in English we have thousands and thousands of more words than they do.  However, the French will say that we stole most of our words from other languages.  French is rich because each word has a specific meaning that was carefully defined hundreds of years ago; a meaning which has not changed in five hundred years.  Also, the verbs and order in which the words are used will affect the general tone of the word.  Even their slang is respectful of the language.  Instead of creating new, vulgar words for things, they instead switch around the letters in the word.  "Fou" (fool) turns into "Ouf".  The French even fight against accepting American words into the vocabulary such as camera, start-up, cool, etc.  They have an academie that decides which words will be accepted or not.  We do not have the same worries about the English language. 

As a professor once said, "Mademoiselle, to learn French, you must love French!"

Anyways,  that is what I have learned on my travels!

Keep sending emails.

Love,

Elise