I've been here almost two months now. For my semester abroad in Aix, two months was just a little shy of half way through. Two months here is approximately 1/4 th of my total time. Somehow, (okay precisely would be via Amazon Books, the University book store, and the book store at Captiol) I have acquired a ton of books in two months. Here's my current list :
An Introduction to English Literature
GRE Literature in English
Barron's GRE
GRE Advanced Verbal
Grammaire Pratique du Français
Huysmans - Against Nature
Huysmans - A Rebours
Claude Simon's The Flanders Road
Claude Simon's La Route des Flandres
Initiation a la Langue Latine
Latin/English Dictionary
Ancien Français
Précis de Phonétique Histoire (Ancien Français)
Ancien Français Fiches de Vocabulaire
Chateaubriand - Atala- René
Verlaine - Poèmes Saturniens
Baudelaire - Les Fleurs du Mal
Flaubert - Trois Contes
Oscar Wilde - Salomé
Vigny - Stello
Nerval - Les Filles du Feu/ Les Chimeres
Technically, a few books for my current courses are missing off of that list because they are supplementary texts (supplementary just in name...the teacher 'strongly' encourages we read them for the final exam). So, when you are wondering where the blogs about actual Toulouse have disappeared to, you can blame the aforementioned books that I am drowning in at the moment.
-Tam in Toulouse
Friday, October 29, 2010
Wednesday, October 27, 2010
Typical Day
BUZZ! Bolting out of my wonderful sleep complete with fabulous, positive dreams, I stumbled my way to my door. Some overly happy fed-ex mailman greeted me BONJOUR! and held up a package with a smile. You are Mlle. Tamra .... - I interrupted his confirmation by pointing to myself (sans actual communication) and motioning for the package. Barely giving him time to hand it to me, and certainly not enough time to sign for it, I mumbled 'merci', closed the door and went immediately back to sleep.
Much later...after some GRE studying, I motivated myself to visit EDF (the electric company). I hadn't received a bill in the mail and definitely did NOT look forward to a late notice for this month's overdue payment. So, I thought I'd visit and seek out the missing 'fracture' (bill). Except that, when I reached the office it had disappeared. I looked at the address from an old bill just to be certain I was indeed at the EDF office; I was, but EDF didn't seem to exist anymore. Bewildered, and annoyed that I had not received a letter in the mail about a change of office location, I asked the nearest person I could find. 'Oh, they aren't working here anymore, you can find an office at 'Place Capitol'. Awesome, what was going to be a thirty minute errand (because of all the walking) was now going to be much longer.
Arriving at Place Capitol, the town square of Toulouse which has several busy streets branching off from it, I knew I would need help. Timidly I approached the gentleman manning the tourist office's counter. He drew a circle on my map of Toulouse and pointed to the door while telling me it was just a right and a left away. 'Okay'. However, upon consulting my map his circle looked like it was down a side street from the Place. Off I went to discover EDF's top secret hiding place.
I had walked for over an hour down every side street off the Place and asked at least 6 people on the street (all of whom gave me conflicting directions) and still could not find EDF. I decided to ask just ONE more person and was resigned to giving up for the day after that. In front of the MacDonald's on the Place, I approached a gentleman and asked him if he knew where EDF was. He signaled that he was deaf. AWESOME! Okay, not awesome that he was deaf, BUT I knew the alphabet in sign language so this prospect would not be a loss. I spelled out E-D-F and raised my hands in a lost manner. He motioned for me to sit with him and wait for his wife, who was not deaf, but who was in the line getting coffee. I signed m-e-r-c-i, thanking Heaven for my mischievous friends in sixth grade who had learned the alphabet with me so that we could annoy teachers with across-the-classroom 'silent' conversations.
Soon his wife joined us, 'Do you need something?' 'I'm looking for EDF and I have searched and searched and the man at the office of tourism said it was just right here (showing her my map) but I don't really know where that is...' The woman softly turned me toward the Place and pointed straight across from our location to three golden letters, EDF, on the opposite building's facade. She gently rubbed my arm when I admitted my stupidity. I explained that I was new to Toulouse...still. After thanking her, and her spouse, I headed across the square toward the building thinking, "I may not speak French with grace...but at least I know the alphabet, and in some situations it's enough."
-Tam in Toulouse
Much later...after some GRE studying, I motivated myself to visit EDF (the electric company). I hadn't received a bill in the mail and definitely did NOT look forward to a late notice for this month's overdue payment. So, I thought I'd visit and seek out the missing 'fracture' (bill). Except that, when I reached the office it had disappeared. I looked at the address from an old bill just to be certain I was indeed at the EDF office; I was, but EDF didn't seem to exist anymore. Bewildered, and annoyed that I had not received a letter in the mail about a change of office location, I asked the nearest person I could find. 'Oh, they aren't working here anymore, you can find an office at 'Place Capitol'. Awesome, what was going to be a thirty minute errand (because of all the walking) was now going to be much longer.
Arriving at Place Capitol, the town square of Toulouse which has several busy streets branching off from it, I knew I would need help. Timidly I approached the gentleman manning the tourist office's counter. He drew a circle on my map of Toulouse and pointed to the door while telling me it was just a right and a left away. 'Okay'. However, upon consulting my map his circle looked like it was down a side street from the Place. Off I went to discover EDF's top secret hiding place.
I had walked for over an hour down every side street off the Place and asked at least 6 people on the street (all of whom gave me conflicting directions) and still could not find EDF. I decided to ask just ONE more person and was resigned to giving up for the day after that. In front of the MacDonald's on the Place, I approached a gentleman and asked him if he knew where EDF was. He signaled that he was deaf. AWESOME! Okay, not awesome that he was deaf, BUT I knew the alphabet in sign language so this prospect would not be a loss. I spelled out E-D-F and raised my hands in a lost manner. He motioned for me to sit with him and wait for his wife, who was not deaf, but who was in the line getting coffee. I signed m-e-r-c-i, thanking Heaven for my mischievous friends in sixth grade who had learned the alphabet with me so that we could annoy teachers with across-the-classroom 'silent' conversations.
Soon his wife joined us, 'Do you need something?' 'I'm looking for EDF and I have searched and searched and the man at the office of tourism said it was just right here (showing her my map) but I don't really know where that is...' The woman softly turned me toward the Place and pointed straight across from our location to three golden letters, EDF, on the opposite building's facade. She gently rubbed my arm when I admitted my stupidity. I explained that I was new to Toulouse...still. After thanking her, and her spouse, I headed across the square toward the building thinking, "I may not speak French with grace...but at least I know the alphabet, and in some situations it's enough."
-Tam in Toulouse
Sunday, October 24, 2010
Diagnosis: Needs Christian Fellowship
I miss Sundays.
Greeting sweet elderly ladies and gentlemen, settling into the pew while admiring the stained glass, feeling a sense of peace as the piano strikes the opening chords of my favorite hymn....I miss church. It's not 'any' church I miss. If that were the case, I'd take a stroll and come across a half dozen Catholic ones. No, I miss my small, close knit Baptist church from home. I even miss the big, beautiful Episcopalian church from Sewanee. To sing together with other believers, feeling the harmony wash over me as the words both challenge and call to my heart, I long for singing. Communion, soft bread turned red from it's brief moment dipped in the bitter wine, remembering the blood and body of Christ that was given in my name, I hunger for Communion. Listening to the teaching, to the message, of the minister while I think about how his words apply to my life at present, I need direction, accountability, scripture. Where is Sunday here?
In defense, I did look up an international church when I got to Toulouse. There's one in a suburb nearby that I'm not sure how to get to. The website for the church boasts lots of Bible studies and Sunday services in ENGLISH! I've just been nervous about going to a new church all by myself. More honestly, I'm nervous that I may encounter beliefs radically different from the Christianity I know. I realize that my lack of spiritual nourishment is no one's fault but my own. However, like all things French, it's not just a general experience I miss, but rather my own, specific experiences unique to America.
Greeting sweet elderly ladies and gentlemen, settling into the pew while admiring the stained glass, feeling a sense of peace as the piano strikes the opening chords of my favorite hymn....I miss church. It's not 'any' church I miss. If that were the case, I'd take a stroll and come across a half dozen Catholic ones. No, I miss my small, close knit Baptist church from home. I even miss the big, beautiful Episcopalian church from Sewanee. To sing together with other believers, feeling the harmony wash over me as the words both challenge and call to my heart, I long for singing. Communion, soft bread turned red from it's brief moment dipped in the bitter wine, remembering the blood and body of Christ that was given in my name, I hunger for Communion. Listening to the teaching, to the message, of the minister while I think about how his words apply to my life at present, I need direction, accountability, scripture. Where is Sunday here?
In defense, I did look up an international church when I got to Toulouse. There's one in a suburb nearby that I'm not sure how to get to. The website for the church boasts lots of Bible studies and Sunday services in ENGLISH! I've just been nervous about going to a new church all by myself. More honestly, I'm nervous that I may encounter beliefs radically different from the Christianity I know. I realize that my lack of spiritual nourishment is no one's fault but my own. However, like all things French, it's not just a general experience I miss, but rather my own, specific experiences unique to America.
Thursday, October 21, 2010
Rude Awakening
I was so proud of myself! All of yesterday I maintained my strike. I ate sushi, pizza, and oreos, watched a movie, and sat on the internet till bedtime.
This morning I dragged myself out of bed at the crack of dawn (literally the sun was just coming up) for my 8:30 am Literature class. Warm in my layers, jamming with American music blasting through my headphones, I set out for class.
Arriving on campus, I noticed there were less than twenty students milling about. Then I rounded a corner and saw a mountain of tables, desks, and chairs still blocking every entrance to the academic buildings.....
LE MIRAIL EN GRÈVE?
LE MIRAIL EN GRÈVE!
My university is still on strike! Not that I'm truly complaining since this gives me extra hours to figure out my grad school personal statement, but I fought myself out of MY GRÈVE to go to school today! Not to mention that I need books from the university library and I had a group meeting with fellow students for a project.
The question now is....do I go back to sleep and revel in the University strike even though my strike is over OR do I flout strikes all together and put my nose to the grad school application grind stone?
This morning I dragged myself out of bed at the crack of dawn (literally the sun was just coming up) for my 8:30 am Literature class. Warm in my layers, jamming with American music blasting through my headphones, I set out for class.
Arriving on campus, I noticed there were less than twenty students milling about. Then I rounded a corner and saw a mountain of tables, desks, and chairs still blocking every entrance to the academic buildings.....
LE MIRAIL EN GRÈVE?
LE MIRAIL EN GRÈVE!
My university is still on strike! Not that I'm truly complaining since this gives me extra hours to figure out my grad school personal statement, but I fought myself out of MY GRÈVE to go to school today! Not to mention that I need books from the university library and I had a group meeting with fellow students for a project.
The question now is....do I go back to sleep and revel in the University strike even though my strike is over OR do I flout strikes all together and put my nose to the grad school application grind stone?
Wednesday, October 20, 2010
Birthday Strike?
France is on strike? But am I on strike?
I don't know. I think I want to be. I think I want to be on strike from my reasonable self.
Everyday for three weeks I've juggled latin, ancient french, modern french, english according to the french, GRE vocabulary, GRE math, and GRE english subject test.....my brain is boggled (---GRE vocab word by the way) and my spirit is approaching 'fed up'.
Today it is my 23rd birthday. It doesn't feel like a birthday though. There will be no party, no little pile of presents, no cake or candles (oh how I long for 23 birthday candles to blow out), no birthday trip to Dublin, and I certainly don't feel 23. Nevertheless, lack of celebration or not, I am 23 today, and I think I want to be on strike.
Various birthday possibilities swirl in my head.....I'd like to eat sushi, I haven't seen a movie in France yet, I have a beautiful outfit I could put on 'just because', I don't own any lip gloss and I've been eyeing Sephora for weeks, eating dinner on a canal boat sounds appealing, maybe I could find a mani/pedi place that could fit me in, I haven't bought a blanket yet for my bed or a good book (in English) to curl up with.
The problem is that I'm one of those rare individuals that cannot 'not care'. I literally do not have the ability to mean what I say when I say 'screw homework'. Thus, even though it is my birthday, I foresee hours spent studying despite my unwillingness.
I wish I could let myself be on a birthday strike.
I don't know. I think I want to be. I think I want to be on strike from my reasonable self.
Everyday for three weeks I've juggled latin, ancient french, modern french, english according to the french, GRE vocabulary, GRE math, and GRE english subject test.....my brain is boggled (---GRE vocab word by the way) and my spirit is approaching 'fed up'.
Today it is my 23rd birthday. It doesn't feel like a birthday though. There will be no party, no little pile of presents, no cake or candles (oh how I long for 23 birthday candles to blow out), no birthday trip to Dublin, and I certainly don't feel 23. Nevertheless, lack of celebration or not, I am 23 today, and I think I want to be on strike.
Various birthday possibilities swirl in my head.....I'd like to eat sushi, I haven't seen a movie in France yet, I have a beautiful outfit I could put on 'just because', I don't own any lip gloss and I've been eyeing Sephora for weeks, eating dinner on a canal boat sounds appealing, maybe I could find a mani/pedi place that could fit me in, I haven't bought a blanket yet for my bed or a good book (in English) to curl up with.
The problem is that I'm one of those rare individuals that cannot 'not care'. I literally do not have the ability to mean what I say when I say 'screw homework'. Thus, even though it is my birthday, I foresee hours spent studying despite my unwillingness.
I wish I could let myself be on a birthday strike.
Tuesday, October 19, 2010
France on Strike!
Here in France, in case you've missed the news, everyone is on strike. Okay saying 'everyone' might be a bit of a stretch, BUT it seems like everyone. France is raising it's minimum retirement age from 60 to 62 and the reform isn't sitting well with French citizens. At first I thought the strikes were a bit ridiculous. Hundreds, if not thousands of people here in Toulouse, and in other large cities around France, walking through the streets shouting and singing their displeasure at the pension reform. However, I'm starting to realize that the French citizens mean business.
A nationwide strike began yesterday with the intention of continuing into Wednesday. The major effects I can clearly see are the multiple teachers that have canceled class - conveniently since I'm sick and my 23rd birthday is tomorrow - and announcements on bus lines and metros and airline websites that transportation in general will be 'perturbed' (disrupted in French, annoyed in English, so the word works both ways).
So what's the big deal? Well aside from what news articles have sited, I have asked several French citizens of various ages for their opinions. The youth are worried that there will not be job openings for them when they are finished with their academic studies, and the middle-aged/elderly who have been working since the age of 18 are not happy that they now have two more years to work. Unlike in America, France is rather static about employment. High schools and colleges emphasize that students must know as soon as they can which career field they foresee for their future, and they must stick with that choice. 'Just going back to school for a second or third career option' isn't a luxury they have.
Today I was confused when I came out of class and saw the entrance to one of the academic buildings blocked by multiple desks piled on top of each other. Now students are joining the movement against the reforms. I'm not even sure if I'll have class tomorrow, or if I do, how I would get there. Oddly, the heightened strike action comes just a few days before fall break for my university. Although I had intentions to celebrate Halloween elsewhere, since Toulouse does not celebrate the holiday, it looks like the combination of my cold and the strike will keep my break within the confines of the city. And since I live on a main road between two metro stops and government buildings, the strikers march right below my window, so I'll get a first hand look at the 'manifestation' (as they call it).
~Tam in Toulouse
A nationwide strike began yesterday with the intention of continuing into Wednesday. The major effects I can clearly see are the multiple teachers that have canceled class - conveniently since I'm sick and my 23rd birthday is tomorrow - and announcements on bus lines and metros and airline websites that transportation in general will be 'perturbed' (disrupted in French, annoyed in English, so the word works both ways).
So what's the big deal? Well aside from what news articles have sited, I have asked several French citizens of various ages for their opinions. The youth are worried that there will not be job openings for them when they are finished with their academic studies, and the middle-aged/elderly who have been working since the age of 18 are not happy that they now have two more years to work. Unlike in America, France is rather static about employment. High schools and colleges emphasize that students must know as soon as they can which career field they foresee for their future, and they must stick with that choice. 'Just going back to school for a second or third career option' isn't a luxury they have.
Today I was confused when I came out of class and saw the entrance to one of the academic buildings blocked by multiple desks piled on top of each other. Now students are joining the movement against the reforms. I'm not even sure if I'll have class tomorrow, or if I do, how I would get there. Oddly, the heightened strike action comes just a few days before fall break for my university. Although I had intentions to celebrate Halloween elsewhere, since Toulouse does not celebrate the holiday, it looks like the combination of my cold and the strike will keep my break within the confines of the city. And since I live on a main road between two metro stops and government buildings, the strikers march right below my window, so I'll get a first hand look at the 'manifestation' (as they call it).
~Tam in Toulouse
Sunday, October 17, 2010
I Want my Mommy
My body has betrayed me! I thought that we were great friends, I mean I've known my body since I was born - before that moment even - and now it has become my enemy....
I woke up in the middle of last night suffocating in the darkness. Despite having my head propped up by two pillows, the window cracked for fresh, city air, and having taken Benadryl before bed, I woke up needing to blow my nose and take more medicine. Yesterday I felt a little 'off'. You know the routine....sniffles and a few chills here and there. I thought that perhaps it was the 30 degree change in the weather from the day before that was wreaking havoc on my sinuses. Nope. Not the case, or maybe the case, but now I'm past sniffles and on to full blown cold.
Am I self-diagnosing? Indeed. Twice a year, approximately October/November and March/April, I get sick with the changing of the seasons. I could sniff pollen all day to my heart's content, so I don't think I am allergic to pollen or anything. I'm not sure why exactly but my body just doesn't like changes in the weather. I become comatose once I hit my bed and food tastes like snot for days. Appealing right???
I usually embarrass myself and trudge to class with tissue shoved up my nose, continuously watering eyes, and the general feeling that I'm dying a slow, ugly death. I'm sure I scare the people in class with my odd appearance. Imagine me sitting there trying to take notes with tissue escaping my nose and tears running down my face and flushed cheeks. You'd be scared. There's no need to go see doctors anymore. Ever since high school I've learned to let this seasonal pest run its course while I self-medicate with cold and sinus pills and Halls throat candies (and good doses of Disney movies, hot chocolate, and chicken soup of course).
But I am in Toulouse France. I'm in a country where they have no 'over the counter' medicine or cough drops in the supermarket. No chicken soup either. I have class all day tomorrow and Tuesday and I cannot afford to fall behind by missing. I KNEW I should have stocked up on medicine before I came!!!
Sitting here in my bed bundled in my layers hugging water, hot tea, my laptop and my homework all I can do is try to manifest healthy vibes and get better very (and I emphasize VERY) quickly.
I woke up in the middle of last night suffocating in the darkness. Despite having my head propped up by two pillows, the window cracked for fresh, city air, and having taken Benadryl before bed, I woke up needing to blow my nose and take more medicine. Yesterday I felt a little 'off'. You know the routine....sniffles and a few chills here and there. I thought that perhaps it was the 30 degree change in the weather from the day before that was wreaking havoc on my sinuses. Nope. Not the case, or maybe the case, but now I'm past sniffles and on to full blown cold.
Am I self-diagnosing? Indeed. Twice a year, approximately October/November and March/April, I get sick with the changing of the seasons. I could sniff pollen all day to my heart's content, so I don't think I am allergic to pollen or anything. I'm not sure why exactly but my body just doesn't like changes in the weather. I become comatose once I hit my bed and food tastes like snot for days. Appealing right???
I usually embarrass myself and trudge to class with tissue shoved up my nose, continuously watering eyes, and the general feeling that I'm dying a slow, ugly death. I'm sure I scare the people in class with my odd appearance. Imagine me sitting there trying to take notes with tissue escaping my nose and tears running down my face and flushed cheeks. You'd be scared. There's no need to go see doctors anymore. Ever since high school I've learned to let this seasonal pest run its course while I self-medicate with cold and sinus pills and Halls throat candies (and good doses of Disney movies, hot chocolate, and chicken soup of course).
But I am in Toulouse France. I'm in a country where they have no 'over the counter' medicine or cough drops in the supermarket. No chicken soup either. I have class all day tomorrow and Tuesday and I cannot afford to fall behind by missing. I KNEW I should have stocked up on medicine before I came!!!
Sitting here in my bed bundled in my layers hugging water, hot tea, my laptop and my homework all I can do is try to manifest healthy vibes and get better very (and I emphasize VERY) quickly.
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