Chapitre Deux: In which KK goes to Provence and a miracle occurs.

 

Photo courtesey of Callie Feingold

As promised, I spent a lovely weekend in Provence with my fellow Swarthmore-in-Grenoble-ians.  Also as promised, I charged my camera properly to ensure I would be able to take a plentitude of pictures for your viewing pleasure.  With my camera ready to go and my backpack full, I boarded the bus (oddly called an autocar in french) and we went on our way.

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Provence is south of Grenoble and is known for its beautiful scenery and lavender - and boy do they love their lavender.  We stayed in maisonettes, little houses one could rent for a family vacation, etc., and the one I stayed in reeked of lavender.  I suppose it was nice, but I'm sure I would have been alright if I didn't feel like a bouquet of lavender had been tied to my face.  In all seriousness, it was a wonderful place to stay and I did enjoy the lavender.  Moreso than that, I enjoyed the extent to which the natives enjoyed their lavendar.  As we drove through the countryside, I saw a farmer strolling though his lavender fields with a rifle in hands, just in case any intruders were trying to steal his crop.  It reminded me of home.

Me at my hobbit house; photo courtesey of/stolen from Callie Feingold

Anyway, first on our itinerary was a stop at Chateau de la Croix Chabrières for a wine tasting.  We toured the wine-making operation, which was quite interesting, before moving inside for the main event.  Unfortunately, my camera was in my backpack under the bus, so I didn't take any pictures.  However, a few kind friends have volunteered to donate some to my/your cause.  As for the wine-tasting, I'm just not cut out for that aspect of life.  I'm not nearly discerning enough to appreciate the subtle differences between types of wine ("Rosé, is that the pink kind?") and therefore I felt ridiculous attempting to smell certain things after carefully swirling my wine as directed by our guide.  Not to mention the fact that people make absolutely ridiculous faces while at a wine-tasting, since you have to swish the wine in your mouth the right way and smell it properly, people have this strange combination of concentration and monkey faces that cannot and should not ever be taken seriously.  I found it impossible not to laugh.  I don't mean to be rude to connaisseurs of wine, I just lack the necessary qualities to fully appreciate it.  Still, it was a lot of fun.  

Saturday, we headed to a small village called Roussillon, which is known for its beautiful ocres - the brownish-reddish pigment of the earth.  It was lovely (there's a surprise...) and the perfect opportunity for me to take pictures with my fully charged camera.  After some picture taking, I accidently dropped my camera on some rocks while someone was handing it back to me.  Much to my dismay, the lens refused to close or retract all the way back.  The screen informed me that I should attempt to restart the camera, which I did.  It then informed me that there was a lens error and could not function.  After futiley trying a few more times to get it to work, I put it back in my pocket and contemplated the value of buying a new camera here or trying to get it fixed or just making do without a camera for the rest of the trip.  At a loss for answers, I put it out of my mind and enjoyed the rest of the day, being sure to ask if others could take a few pictures of me that they could email to me.  We had lunch in a beautiful village called Gordes, where Johnny Depp vacations (no sightings though) and had fun wandering around.  Then we got back on the bus and headed to l'Abbaye de Sénanque - a cistercien abbey built in 1148 and still in residence by monks who have taken a vow of silence. The church was very plain, there was a cross behind the altar and a statue of the Virgin Mary, but that was it.  It was a very interesting tour and very calming to walk through such a quiet and peaceful place, although I can't imagine how difficult it would be to live your life in silence. 

After the tour I waited just outside the giftshop with a few people while some other people were buying things.  I felt my camera in my pocket and pulled it out again while I waited.  I pushed the power button, just like I had been doing all morning to no avail, and voilà, the lens closed and went back in.  Curious, I pushed the power button again, and the lens moved back out to its functioning position, recharged and ready to go!  No scratchs, no blurriness or problems with the images or zooming functions.  Incroyable! Whether it was the soft interior of my sweatshirt pocket or the pure and blessed air of the abbey that did it, I guess I'll never know, but I'll consider it a little miracle and a divine message to take more pictures since I have a working camera. 

The last picture taken before my camera went comatose.  The picture above is the Abbey, the first picture I took after the miraculous recovery.

 A picture of the countryside taken from the bus.  Despite the clouds, we actually had lovely weather.  The wind always blows in Provence which made it a little chilly, but it was much nicer than when we arrived back in Grenoble to 30 degree Farenheit weather.  It appears that autumn has arrived all of a sudden.

Moral of the story thus far:

Always check your camera battery.

I've done many things since my arrival in France, including learning the proper way to say "since my arrival in France 3 weeks ago" in French.  The one thing I haven't done is remember to charge my camera battery at appropriate times.  Last weekend, upon arriving in Annecy, the battery promptly died.  This weekend, after working long and hard all day Saturday, my camera couldn't muster the strength to take more than a few pictures on Sunday.  Whoops!  Unfortunately for you guys, this means you'll have to read 4000  extra words (I probably would have posted 4 pictures, 1 picture = 1000 words).  I was originally going to go hiking on Saturday with a group from the CUEF, but the hiking trip was moved to Sunday to accomodate the weather.  Thus, I decided on Friday night to go to Lyon with a few other people from my group on Saturday instead.  We met at the train station bright and early - except it was actually quite dark and dreary.  The train ride was great (how could it not have been?) despite the fact that it was early and a bit crowded.  When we arrived in Lyon (the second biggest city in France), we decided to skip the maps/directions/plans of any sort and just wander towards the river, where we were under the impression we'd be able to find places of interest. 

It turns out we didn't have to go far out of the train station to find something of interest, as we were accosted by a giant Mango as soon as we walked out!  It turns out that a drink company here is having a Fruit of the Year Contest, so they had people dressed as each fruit out campaigning.  To be honest, this was really the highlight of my trip.  I'm definitely voting for the Mango because he was the most friendly to us, but if you'd like to vote, you can check out the contest on Facebook (facebook.com/oasisfunpage).  The strawberry and raspberry both seemed a little conceited and the pineapple was nice, but I just don't see him as a true leader.  The nice thing about France is that, despite their overwhelming devotion to bread and cheese, they still find it in their hearts to support fruits and vegetables.  Speaking of bread and cheese, those are always the 2 things that people mention when they are asked about the differences between their culture and French culture.  This has happened with some regularity in my classes and it never fails that after the professor asks about differences, someone responds, "The food is different... so much cheese and bread!"  Cheese gets mixed reviews; I think it's wonderful, but a lot of other people aren't so fondu of it, particularly people in my classes who are from areas of the world where cheese and dairy is not very popular.

Anyway, the rest of the day was well spent.  It happened to be the weekend of the Journées de Patrimoine, which meant that there were a lot of  museums etc. open for free.  We walked through the beautiful Lyon Hôtel de Ville and went to the Musée de Beaux-arts for free.  The museum  was great, and I impressed myself with my art history knowledge from 8th grade art class.  For example I recognized a painting by Degas because it was a painting of red-headed ballerinas (Degas was a ginger himself and Degas and Dance both have 5 letters and start with D - Thanks Dahlquist).  We ate lunch at a cute little restaurant with good food and appropriately snobby weighters.  My friends are convinced that the waiters were snobby because we're American, and I'm convinced that my friends are paranoid, so we'll just chalk it up to French people being French.

Sunday, I woke up bright and early again - this time to go hiking.  We took a bus to a tiny village in the Vercors (a mountain range) called Villard-en-Lans and I fell in love as soon as we got off the bus.  It was a picturesque little mountain village and I would live there if I could.  After an hour or so for breakfast, we started off on our hike ... and ran into some donkeys.  I knew it was going to be a good day when we started off walking by some farm animals, since in my dream life I would live on a farm in a mountain village in the Alps.  The hiking was beautiful.  To be honest, while we were walking through the woods it looked an awful lot like Maine (not a bad thing) but once we got out into the open it was clear that we weren't in Kansas anymore, and definitely not Maine.  And then my camera died, before I could even snap a picture of the mountain people who gave us bread and the best cheese I've ever eaten.  When I returned home and told my host fam. about the cheese, they told me it was delicious because it wasn't pasteurized.  This was probably true and its making me rethink my stand on pasteurization.  The cheese was THAT good.

Anyway, we continued on our way.  The top of the mountain (I don't know its name) was 1,700 meters, which is just higher than Mt. Katahdin, although I think we started at about 800m so it was really only a 900m climb.  The views from the top were spectacular, we overlooked the valley that Grenoble is in, but we couldn't see the city because it was covered by a mer de nuages - a sea of clouds.  With the clouds swirling around us, we caught a glimpse of Mt Blanc, covered with snow and true to its name, and the other mountains all around us. 
All in all, it was a wonderful weekend and I was ready for bed at about 7 pm on Sunday when I got back from the hike.  But before I could go to bed, I had to find a bathroom.  French people don't drink water the way Americans do, which I think explains the lack of public toilets.  Even in the train station, there were no restrooms.  Isn't that absurd?  Everyone has to use the restroom whilst travelling.  I just don't understand.  This weekend I am off to Provence with my Swarthmore group.  Wine tasting, delicious food, and a visit to a monastery are all on the docket, so I'll let you know if there is indeed "more than this 'provencial' life".  Just kidding, that song is actually about 'proVINcial' life, not life in ProVENce, but I felt the reference was appropriate. 

Hiking friends at the top with a sea of clouds behind us!

Chapitre Deux: All settled in

At Lac-Aix-les-bains

Now that I've been here for 2 full weeks, I'm finally all settled in.  I know which tram to take, I know where certain cafes and restaurants are, I know which markets to stop at to buy a delicious peach, I feel like a true Grenobloise (almost...).  Some of my classes have started, but I'm still deciding which classes to take so I'll save that for another post.  However, I have done 3 thing worth describing.  I've done some other things too, but all in good time...

I went to Annecy.  The CUEF, where I take classes, organizes trips for the international students.  This Saturday I signed up to go Annecy with 2 other girls from my program and a bunch of other international students.  Annecy is a lovely town about an hour away from Grenoble towards Switzerland.

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We left at 7:30 in the morning and stopped in a town called Chambery along the way for breakfast, which was also lovely.  Chambery and Annecy are both very old towns, with architecture and history dating back to the 1400's. After an hour in Chambery, we reboarded the bus and took another quick stop at Lac Aix-les-Bains, one of the biggest lakes in France (or so I'm told), which was nice.  The water was clean and clear, the sun was shining and the mountains were huge as usual.  Men in speedos and small dogs abounded, creating a very French atmosphere.  Soon after this stop, we arrived in Annecy.  I took a picture or two of the Lac d'Annecy and a swan... and then my camera died.  Eh bien, c'est la vie.  But let me assure that this was a truly beautiful place.  The buildings were old, well maintained and colorful, resting next to the beautiful canals and filled with flowers.  Picture the old city areas of Epcot in Disney world, except its real, not made of plastic!  After eating lunch (where we were conned into ordering our own pizzas while sharing would have easily sufficed), walking around, we boarded a paddleboat and peddled around the lake for a while.  The water looked so deliciously refreshing while we were paddling around that after our 30 minutes of boating, I donned my maillot de baigne and jumped in the lake with all the locals (verdict after the beach: most French women do shave).  After a full day it was nice to get back on the bus and watch the scenery (mountains and corn fields with a few vineyards and chateaux thrown in) go by.

Chambery

I joined a gym.  The program I am here with reimburses us for certain activities and programs we want to join.  One of the choices was a membership to a gym, which several of us chose.  At home I would normally just go running outside while its still nice out, but you get very strange looks if you run on the streets here.  People often assume that you're running away from something and need help.  "That girl must really be in trouble, she's been running away from someone for 3 miles now!"  There are some parks nearby that I can run in, but its nice to have the gym membership anyway.  It's particularly nice because I can now partake in french aerobics classes!  Superb!  French aerobic classes are hilarious!  In fact, they're very similar to American aerobics classes, you can do the body building classes, step aerobics, yoga/pilates, etc.  But since they're in French with loud American music playing, I never understand what I'm supposed to do.  Thus I must rely entirely on looking at everyone else, which is really funny.  In addition, one of the male instructors wears obscenely short spandex shorts while he yells at you in aggressive french and pulls people's legs in directions they're not meant to go.  Two days in a row I attended Abdo Fessier.  I didn't know what fessier meant and assumed that maybe it was some technique or method of exercise.  After the first class I looked it up and realized that it means "butt" (upper thighs and glutes to be technical).  All of a sudden things made a lot of sense, since my butt was really sore.  Next on my list of classes to attend: Aqua fun and Body Pump!

Famous statue in Chambery

I went to Quality Burger.  Quick - Quality Burger is a French and Belguim fast-food chain that I've been curious about since arriving here.  Well I finally went, and boy was it great.  Here's the story:  a few friends and I were walking around town after having dinner on Friday night when we collectively decided we needed to find a restroom.  The grand probleme de France is that there are not enough toilets here, so we decided to head into Quality Burger.  We ordered a medium fry, which came with a packet of salt, a packet of ketchup and 3 servings of grease.  We used the sub-par restrooms (apparently French women don't believe in toilet seats...) and then one of my friends decided to order le temptation which has been advertised on the tele recently.  After paying 4.50 euros and waiting 10 minutes, he opened the box to discover a bun soaked in grease and an otherwise degoutant burger.  It was not quick, quality or delicious.  Clearly, we should stick to McDo's in the future (conveniently located just across the street).

One of the cats, in my sink.  Yesterday it hung out in the bathroom, ALL DAY LONG. 

Chapitre Un: Including pictures from the major motion picture!

Sometimes its hard to upload pictures here if my internet connection isn't great, but since it is working now I thought I'd just post some pictures.  Most of these are from this weekend, when I walked up to La Bastille, an old fort on top of a hill.  It had some great views of the area and it was a lot of fun.  We took our time 'hiking' up while other people ran past us, then had a picnic at the top.  We spent all our energy on walking up and lounging in the grass at the top though, so we decided to ride back down in les bulles, which are round gondolas that go up and down to the Bastille.

A weekly market in Grenoble where we bought our picnic supplies

View of the mountains from a foot-bridge over the Isère river

An archway on our way up to the Bastille

Les Bulles, gondola-type structures that you can ride up to or down from La Bastille

At the Bastille

My fellow Americans walking up the the Bastille

La Bastille

When we got back into town, there was a demonstration against a proposed policy to deport Roms (Romanes) from France

Nothing like a little sightseeing and political action to make you feel like you're in France.  The demonstrators were marching along the tram tracks in the centre-ville so none of the trams could get through, which was fine with me because I wanted to watch the demonstration and because I can take a bus home.  The French are full of civil unrest apparently, because today there is a strike of the public transportation system.  They are lobbying for better retirement and higher wages.  Fortunately some of the trams and buses are still running so I can still get to campus, although I must say I feel like this takes a little of the power away from their strike.  What's the point in having a strike if you're still going to work? Eh, bien.

Chapitre Un: In summary

I have now been in France for a week, so I thought it would be nice to do a general overview of life here so far.  First of all, let me review the 3 things I was most excited about:

Very European...

1. French cuisine:  France has lived up to my expectation by providing me with ample cheese, bread and Nutella.  I've yet to have a crepe, but I've seen some creperies around, so I'll have to check one out sometime.  But here's the big news: They eat other things here too!  I've had some meat (not always sure exactly what kind of meat, translations are difficile sometimes), plenty of fruits and vegetables, pasta, etc.  At the sandwich shop where I've been getting lunch on campus, they have a delicious mozzarella and tomato panini sandwich.  It's possible that I'll have one everyday for the entire semester.  Food score after week 1: 9 out of 10
2. Cobbled streets and Vespa scooters:  The legends are true!  Although in hindsight, not as exciting as they seemed.  The scooters are cool, but somewhat annoying because they allow crazy French drivers to drive even more crazily.  Cobbled streets are picturesque, but nothing to write home about.  
3. Grenoble is indeed surrounded by mountains!  3 chains (the Vercors, the Belledonnes/Alps and the Chartreuse) surround the city and provide beautiful views and plenty of activities.  Today I walked up to the Bastille, an old fort on the side of a hill, that gave us great views of the surrounding mountains.  Unfortunately, I must report that I have yet to sing anything while frolicking through alpine fields a la Sound of Music

Now, my 3 top concerns:

1. No milk!  Maman, you were right!  I have yet to drink any milk or see it offered anywhere, unless it is a cafe au lait, or something like that.  I can feel my lactose intolerance building already.  Zut alors.
2. No bidet catastrophes so far.  In fact, I haven't seen any bidets.  Urban legend, myth busted.
3. French women don't shave: myth plausible.  Although I haven't actually asked any french women (could be awkward), the pictures in a pamphlet about campus events leads me to believe that at least some women don't shave.  

Other urban legends:

• French people love red wine: True.  Not all of them, but the vast majority.  They drink it with their cheese and bread ALL THE TIME.
• French people take weird showers: Maybe not actually an urban legend, but its true.  They (often) have just a bathtub with a hand held shower head.  Equally effective, but takes some getting used to.
• French people are mean: myth busted!  French people are great!  The guy at the post office was very patient while I managed to convey that I needed some international stamps, and my waitress last night was very kind and helpful.  No comment on the Parisians, but here in Grenoble people have been welcoming of my obtuse American ways.
• French people love small dogs: true!  There are little dogs  running  being carried around everywhere.
• French people wear berets: plausible.  I haven't seen any in Grenoble but my host father Didier assures me that in other areas of France they actually wear berets.

Other general surprises and reflections:

• There are lizards here!  Who knew?  In my mind, lizards are associated with Florida, Mexico, deserts and rain forests.  Apparently they exist elsewhere, and apparently this only surprises me, because when I pointed them out to other members of my group, no one was as impressed as I was.  One of my goals is to get a picture of one of them, but they're quick little buggers!
• Also, there is corn here.  Just before I left I was wondering if corn is popular in France.  It is.  We went by a lot of cornfields on the way from Lyon to Grenoble.
• Pigeons here are pretty much just like pigeons at home.  I like them, but no one else does...

I have plenty more to comment on, but I'll save it for other posts.  I also have plenty of pictures, but the internet isn't too excited for me to upload them right now, so I'll have to save those for later too.

Chapitre Un (continued again): JE SUIS LA JEUNE FILLE

Grenadine, la chatte

Bonjour again, mes amis!  My real classes at the CUEF (Centre Universitaire des Etudes Francais) don't start until next week, so this week we have only had a French review class before we take the placement test on Friday.  And boy are we reviewing... for 4 hours a day!  But I appreciate it, because speaking french is difficile.  Its one thing in class, where I can usually predict what someone is going to ask me and prepare an answer, but in real life I never know what to expect!  Plus, French people don't like to make anything easy, so they make multiple words have the same past participle, they make different letters have the same sound and the same letters have different sounds, and there are ALWAYS exceptions.  ALWAYS.  If you've ever wondered why french people talk with their hands, let me tell you:  it's because otherwise no one will know what you're talking about; if it was raining or pleasing; if it was going up or if you were lying.  The most experienced french speakers gesture the most because they have years of experience being confused by the french language.

Kiwi, le chat

Needless to say, it's been challenging to speak french, especially with my host family.  However, I have had some successes.  For example, one night at dinner there was strawberry jelly on the table.  One of my host sisters, who is 15 and learning english in school, picked it up and said, "Strawberry?"  I said, "Oui, strawberry jelly", and we proceeded to talk about berries for the next 10 minutes or so.  We made it through raspberries, blueberries and strawberries, but we got a little stuck on cranberries.  The family friend who was eating with us knew the english word cranberry (as did I), but neither of us knew the french word, so we tried to describe them to everyone else.  It was at this point that my success speaking french ended.  However, I feel like I'm improving every day.  On Tuesday, les enfants Von Trapp weren't there, so I played with the pets in the driveway for a while (about an hour and a half... or more?).  The great thing about pets is you can speak any language to them, and they respond!  Grenadine the cat, who was perched in my lap, kindly meowed every time I asked her a question.  And when Kiwi tried to bite me (only playfully; don't worry Mom, I'm not diseased) I was able to use the new vocab word I learned, mordre, to bite.  Last night, two of the kids had friends over for dinner.  One of them had just returned from visiting his sister in Australia, so he had been practicing his english.  When he left, he said, "au revoir" to everyone else, but "see you later" to me.  His french accent was funny, but I'm sure I sound the same way to everybody here.  It just makes me think of the Muzzy commercials, "Je suis la jeune fille!"  But the more I speak, the better I get so I'll just have to keep trying.  Tomorrow I take my placement test... eek!

Chapitre Un (continued) : La vie en ville

L'arc de Triomphe

Confession # 1: I bought the book Neither Here nor There by Bill Bryson before I left.  The book is a funny account of the author's trip across Europe.  If you aren't familiar with Bill Bryson, I recommend you read something he has written.  Anyway, I got the book because it is by Bill Bryson, because it is about Europe, and because Meredith got a Bill Bryson book to read on her flights to Australia last semester.  But, alas, like my dear friend Meredith, I read about 10 pages on the plane and then opted for the in flight movies and an old copy of Where the Heart Is by Billie Letts.
Tonight, by chance, I picked up Neither Here Nor There again and read through chapter 4, which happens to be about Paris.  I thought about his experiences and how they compare to my own experiences, and realized that one passage really jumped out at me: 

"I know Baron Haussman made Paris a great place to look at, but the man had no concept of traffic flow. At the Arc de Triomphe alone, 13 streets come together. I mean here you have a city with the world's most pathologically aggressive drivers ... and you give them an open space where they can all try to go in any of 13 directions at once. Is this asking for trouble or what?" (44). 

Now, I'm not in Paris but it appears that no one in France knows how to drive or plan a city.  The latter may have something to do with the fact that the downtown of Grenoble was built in the 1600's, but still.  I'm not very used to cities in the U.S. or Europe, but it seems to me there are certain places in US cities where you just can't drive.  This is not true in France, unless the traffic cops are really slacking.  For example, cobblestone paths approximately 12 feet across full of pedestrians and cafe tables - no problem, French cars are only 6 feet wide.  Not only do they drive and park where they please, they drive fast and park inconveniently.  And despite what Drivers-ed-Denis drilled into me, "Rule of the road # 1, someone stops, someone goes," rules of the road need not apply in France.  Someone might stop, and 6 others might go.  Or maybe everyone stops at once, then all go at the same time.  Ils sont vraiment fous!

le tram

However, I have found the public transportation here to be delightful!  I've never had the occasion to use public transportation regularly, since it doesn't really exist where I live.  Here in Grenoble, they use a system of trams and buses.  There are 4 tram lines which go through the busy parts of town, and the buses branch out into the surrounding neighborhoods and areas.  Although I found it somewhat confusing at first, since I oriented myself to where my house is I have found it quite easy to use.  The Von Trapp's street runs between two bigger streets, so I can turn left or right out of my driveway and take bus 31 or 34 into town, or to another stop where I can take the tram to the University.  I feel quite confident using the system now, and I feel really cool because I look like I know what I'm doing.  Except for the first one or two times, when I looked like a nervous, paranoid American.  But despite what you may hear about the French, I have found them to be quite nice.  On Monday morning when I was taking the bus into town for the first time, I was obsessively checking the map to make sure I got off at the right stop.  The man sitting next to me must have noticed, because he asked what stop I was going to.  It turns out he was going to the same one, and made sure I got off alright.  Along the way he asked if I was a student and we had a nice conversation, so Merci Monsieur!