The Flower Market

So one of the interesting things I discovered about Aix, while showing the girls from Pau around was the fresh flower market in the center of Old Town.  This is a picture of the fountain (in Aix, there are always fountains, everywhere) and the flower market in the background.  In the morning, the scents from the flowers mingle together into a fresh breeze that covers the square.  These are the mornings in which it is hard to imagine being anywhere more satisfying.

Rediscovering Aix

One of the best things that happened during my winter break was that I was able to show a few of the girls from Pau, France around my town, Aix-en-Provence.  It was interesting because we discovered even more amazing parts of Aix.  One morning we found the Hotel de Ville (every French town has one; it was home of the government for centuries, but now its just a pretty building) which houses a fresh flower market every morning.  We sat in the sun, sipping cafe, watching the florists go about their work.  I also found two different cathedrals in downtown Aix, both of which we were able to go into and listen to mass, something I have never done before.  

Here we have a picture of all of us standing around Paul Cezanne's statue in downtown Aix, a picture of us in front of one of the cathedrals, inside the cathedral, and then the big tower is the Hotel de Ville.  All located in my town!

Pau

I was lucky enough to have a friend that lives in Pau, France, which is about seven hours west of Aix.  The town boasts a beautiful castle built by some king, quite a few years back.  It also has an amazing view of the Pyrenees mountains which stretch along the border between France and Spain.  There is a picture of the castle, the boulevard that runs in front of the castle, Claire (my friend), Emily (her roommate), and I sitting a one of the fountains in the town, me pretending to be a statue in the middle of the castle's courtyard, and a picture of the downtown cathedral.  

San Sebastian and Friends

So I'm sorry that I haven't written in quite a while.  I have been on many, many adventures and I am just now catching up on sleep.  These pictures are of a day trip I took to San Sebastian, Spain.  It is a beautiful town on the Atlantic Ocean.  These are pictures of the main bridge, the Hotel de Ville, the Aquarium, and one of the cathedrals in town.  Its a beautiful city, and has a very interesting vibe.  Even though the high was only about 10 C (45 F), there were people out all day surfing.

La Greve

The reason I haven't written quite as regularly as the past few weeks is mostly due to the fact that I have finally gotten into a fairly routine way of life that does not lend very many note-worthy (or blog-worthy) experiences.  Altough nothing in my daily life has been terribly exciting this week, there is an aspect of French culture that is affecting nearly every student at my university: La Greve.

La Greve in French is a strike.  Unlike America, strikes in France are common and tend to be terribly disruptive to the daily lives of the French.  When I was planning on taking a train down to Aix from Paris, I was worried that the conductors would go on strike, and I'd be stuck in Paris.  However, my friend informed me that there is less of a chance of a strike on Fridays because over the weekend conductors are paid time and a half.  Luckily enough they did not go on strike the the Friday of my departure; they went on strike the following Monday.  

At the end of last semester (end of January), the majority of the professors in L'Universite de Provence decided to go on strike.  It has not affected me because my professors are kind enough to show up for classes since we are foreigners and have no power or influence with the French government.  However, I have a friend who has yet to start any of her classes.  If the greve ends soon, hopefully my friend will be able to make up for lost time by having classes during breaks, but if it continues, it could mean that she will be forced to take another semester of classes.

During my time here, I have met with some shocked expressions when I tell other European students how much my university costs every year (thank you parents).  They, as is common in Europe, do not have to pay for college.  Their parents are taxed through the roof, but the system allows all young people the opportunity to go to university if they wish.  Many students have mentioned that they think the American university system is too elitist, that it only allows for rich people to go to university and leaves the poor in an endless cycle of uneducated generation after generation.  I laugh at this because I have never been described as rich, and even when I explain that I received scholarships, they still have a fairly negative view of the system.

The only I can say now is that I have never and most likely will never have to deal with a professorial strike that threatens my education.  It may be that its free, but if it means that students are forced to deal with the influence of the French government in their education, it is not worth it; especially given that the length of their education is left up to the whims of fate and their professors.

I left America as a capitalist and am now quite certain that I will return with an even greater passion for privatization.

Elise

The Saturday Market

Yesterday, I was lucky enough to chance upon the outdoor market in the older areas of Aix.  I can't believe I've spent this much time in the city without having gone to the market.  It was exactly what you expect the French Saturday market to be: cluttered, buzzing with people, and amazing.  There was everything you could possibly want: hand-made soaps, herbs, old books, flowers, a ridiculously old, vintage Louis Vuitton handbag, cheese, fruit (fresh and dried), jewelry, and a million other things you would expect to find.  I was lucky enough to make it out with only having bought some dried apricots, but I have the feeling that the next time I go back, I won't have the strength to be so frugal.  Its just too much fun!  I'm going to try to get some pictures the next time I go down.  Between the lavender, soaps, and herbs, its a violent rainbow of scents and colors.  Definitely one of my best discoveries so far... although I can't really say I discovered it given the fact that I was lost and stumbled upon it...

The pictures I posted are of another fountain in Aix that sits on one side of the market.  The other is one of the sunsets I was lucky enough to witness out my window.

Classes and Cours

Well, shockingly enough I just realized that I have been in France now for four, full, crazy weeks.  As I look back on my time in this strange land, I remember the stress and resulting gray hairs that have come from trying to adjust to the culture.  We all remember the Sunday where I ate my body weight in Nutella because I had forgotten that the grocery stores, in fact all stores, are closed on Sunday.  We also remember the many blunders I have made while trying to converse with the locals, namely the one where I answered the question, "May I help you?" with, "Bonjour."  This specific blunder is poignantly clear due to the many times my good friend Will has referred to it.  

Needless to say, its been an adjustment.  I have only thought twice about buying a plane ticket back to the United States, once after downing the Nutella and once after meeting my language professor.  Its not so much that she is somehow scary or intimidating, its that she is surprisingly scary and intimidating.  I have only heard one "Well done!" come out of her mouth so far, and I can assure you that it was not directed at me.  When you think of the French in general, you will be thinking of my professor.  She rarely gives compliments or encouragement, she is strict, and she is extremely protective of her language.  

While preparing for my semester abroad (a preparation, which I must admit, did nothing to prepare me for the real France), I had read somewhere that the French go about teaching in a different way than Americans.  When an American student gets something wrong, the teacher says, "Good guess, but no.  Would you like to try again?"  When a French student gets something wrong, the teacher says, "No, no, no."  When an American student gets something right, its "Yes!  Well done!"  When a French student gets something right, its met with, "Moving right along..."  Its an interesting difference that I can't say I find unattractive.  I really actually enjoy the criticism, truthfully, I do.  The fear of being wrong has a funny way of clarifying your answers.

Classes, in general, are very interesting.  I found out very quickly that although I can drift off in class while the professor is speaking english and still be able to answer correctly, it is not so in French.  I have never concentrated this hard in my life, which is one of the draws of the classes.  Everything is interesting and new because I am constantly learning new vocabulary or new ways to express ideas and opinions.  Its a constant challenge to keep up with everyone else in the courses but that's what makes it so fun.  

Classes are run differently by the French, and I have learned quite a few nuances of classroom etiquette.  Cell phones are, in general, allowed, and in one particular case, my professor's cell phone rang during class, and she spent the next ten minutes in the hallway chatting.  

I've also found that having a classroom with twelve students from twelve different countries is the recipe for a unique experience:  

Austrians, because of their educational system, will always question and debate with their superiors.  Its just the way they have been taught to interact with their professors.  

Moldovans will always raise their hands before speaking and treat the professor with utmost respect.  

Italians will always try to make Italian words sound French when they cannot remember the word in French.  They always roll their "r's".

Algerian females are quiet, timid, and above all, always have their hair covered with beautiful scarves.  

Algerian males are talkative and confident, the result of growing up in a male-dominated society, unlike France or the U.S.  

Poles come from a country that forces its citizens to be tough and strong.  The higher quality of life in France is one of the first things they will talk about when they describe their time in France.  They love how much the French squeeze out of life.

Spaniards also always roll their "r's" and have a very hard time switching in between the different accents, which I don't blame them for.  Its all the same vocab, just different pronunciation. 

And lastly, Americans.  Americans have the worst accents of all the groups.  I don't know if we were just born deaf compared to most people, but for some reason, we cannot hear the nuances of the French language.  I know this is a fairly well-known fact because of how many times my european friends have commented on how terrible American accents are, and after hearing all the other accents one might have, I would take all of them, combined, if it meant getting rid of my American accent.

Anyways, I'm having a wonderful time here.  Thank you for all the notes and emails.  I love hearing from everyone.  Have a beautiful weekend!

Elise

Sundays & Mondays

I realized something yesterday when I was sitting on my bed bored to tears.  I realized that I have yet to really get used to the French way of life.  I figured this out when, knowing full well that everything is closed on Sundays, I chose to go home instead of grabbing extra groceries on Saturday night and when I didn't plan ahead for lots of activities to do on Sunday.  

Note to self: Make a plan for Sunday.  If you don't, you'll be singing to yourself by four o'clock.

Note to self: Buy groceries on Saturday.  If you don't, you'll be consuming your body-weight in Nutella.

So Sunday passed slowly with very little interaction with other people, which is unfortunately typical on Sundays. 

But Monday dawned with a beautiful sunrise that lead to a beautiful day.  A day in which I was able to wander around the town in the sunshine and find a great book to take up some of the evening, which makes up for any boredom of the weekend.

Its interesting that each town has its own personality; they are all very French, but some, such as Aix, are calm and simple, whereas Marseille is the definition of a bustling port city.  I also realized that I'm just not used to the amount of history that can be in each town.  Marseille's old port is the definition of old, which is difficult to be in a country where the cobblestones are older than most of the United States.  Aix has more fountains from the middle ages than can be counted, and Arles is dominated by still intact Roman amphitheaters.

Another adjustment to be made is the amount of time everything takes.  I've realized that I am truly American.  I walk fast, I eat fast, I decide things quickly, and I expect everything surrounding me to be as streamlined as I want it to be.  The French, however, are a culture that is in many ways more mature than Americans.  Not to say that each individual is more wise, but the group as a whole seems to have learned a certain amount of patience from centuries of existence.  Many inefficiencies of time result from lack of care or planning, but many result from the decision to ensure that something is done well no matter how long it takes.  It is quite the adjustment for Americans, one that will take me years to make (if its even possible, which is still suspect).  

Well those are all of my observations for now.  'Til next time then!

Elise

A Day in Marseille

So the Danish girls that I met last week decided to go down to Marseille for a day trip.  We took the bus from Aix which was surprisingly cheap and took about twenty minutes to get to the city.  The pictures I posted are of a church that faces the port, the port, and an arch that sits in the middle of the city.  

Marseille is a very interesting city.  
Because it is a port city, there is more diversity than in Aix.  The majority of the people are immigrants and therefore very dark haired and dark skinned.  Also, travel guides warn visitors to stay away from certain areas of the city due to the fact that many of the neighborhoods are impoverished and therefore dangerous for women and men traveling alone or in small groups.  Unfortunately, our bus stop was right next to one of these areas so we spent the first twenty minutes trying to get out of a somewhat dilapidated area of the city.

Nearer the old port there are plenty of beautiful areas.  We made it down in time to see the vendors selling their fresh fish and eel along the harbor.  We also trekked up to the top of a hill that overlooks the city.  Sitting on the hill is a beautiful black and white marble church (pictures are further down in the blog) that was built to bring safety to the sailors who sailed in and out of the port.  It was the perfect day for sight-seeing, although a little chilly when the sun went behind the clouds.

Overall we had a great time shopping, walking, and taking pictures of the city, but by the end of the day, we were all very happy to get back to the tranquillity of Aix after the bumping and jostling of the crowds in Marseille.
 

These are some pictures of the church.  It sits on top of a hill that overlooks the city and the harbor.  Its an amazing view.

Scary Week, Number 1

Well, I finally, finally began classes this week.  It has been such a long time since I've been in a classroom that I had almost forgot how much I squirm in my chair.  I had also almost forgotten that I'm really not that great in French.  I've found that it is easy to think that I am proficient when the only thing I have to say is "Bonjour," "I would like a baguette please." "Merci, Au revoir."  

I had taken my oral test last Wednesday, during which the nice lady who was giving the test told me that I spoke very well (always good to hear) and that I would probably be placed in B1-B2.  Niveau B is an intermediate level, and I was very, very content in that level because that way I would have nine hours of French every week and could choose two electives to take on top of the language course.  She then explained that she would read my written test and that the final results would be posted at five o'clock Friday.  This woman was the first French woman who was truly nice to me, who told me tangible facts, and whom I believed was telling me the full truth.

Lesson 1: Do not listen to nice French people, they turn out to be liars.  The others, although mean, at least know what is going on.

I went to my university early on Monday to see my results and find out when and where my first language class would be.  The results were confusing to say the least, and after asking too many questions to the secretary, I was finally given a list of elective courses, one list for Niveau B, one list for Niveau C (the higher level French).  Because no one seemed to be able to translate the results for me, so, going on what I had been told during the test, I chose my electives out of the Niveau B grouping.  I went to a couple classes, had a good time.

Lesson 2: If it feels comfortable, the French will find a way to end it.

Today was my first language class wherein I was told that I am not actually in Niveau B but in Niveau C, the higher level French course.  A shiver of trepidation ran down my spine as those words were spoken.  I do not suffer from false modesty, I'm a Niveau B, and I like it.  I explained the issue to my professor, and she gave me this advice, "Well, its better for you in the end anyways.  Now you have something to work for."  Ah, yes, and something to cry about.  So now, I am choosing different courses from the higher level French and praying that I can somehow pretend to be a Niveau C.  

Lesson 3: Sympathy is not something that I should seek from my professor.

Needless to say my day ended with a French-induced headache and a sincere craving for chocolate.  

Elise

This is one of my favorite fountains and also one of the oldest in Aix.  I walk by this when I go to my favorite coffee shop on the Rue de 4 Dauphins (Four Dolphins).

These are pictures of some of my favorite areas around the town.  The church in the background of the first picture is beautiful, but I couldn't get close that day because there is construction going on all around the church.  The second picture is a house that I walk by every day when I go downtown.  There are vines that cover all of the walls, and I cannot wait until spring when everything blooms.

These are great shots of the buildings in Aix.  I love all of the detail.  The orange building is one of my favorites so far.  It took me hours to figure out what it was, because most private residences are walled and this one was strange because its open to the public.  The picture below is a close-up of what the sign on the gate says.

Photo Time! Encore...

Its a cardiologist's office building!!!  Who would have thought.