How do they do it?
As I sat in class last week shivering, I looked around and noticed the new wave of apparel all the French girls are sporting. Their garb completely baffles me. Sincerely, I want to ask them if their sanity has disappeared with the colorful fall leaves....
My outfit last week consisted daily of tights under jeans, two pair of socks with my pair of penny loafers, an underarmour turtleneck with a cardigan over it, a hoodie and my peacoat. Also I wore gloves and a jersey scarf. All of that clothing and I was still thawing my poor toes after an hour of being in my warm apartment.
Meanwhile the French girls in class seemed to be split 50/50 on two insane outfits (although admittedly they looked quite pretty in either style).
Half of the girls were wearing black or brown riding boots with black tights (not leggings), sweater dresses with a turtleneck underneath, and had draped around their shoulders chunky, extra long, knitted scarves. These girls sat through class showing off their slim figures and long legs, seemingly not feeling the 30 degree temperature, while I spent my time blowing on my fingers to keep them warm.
The other half of the girls in class donned leggings or skinny jeans, wore flats and had on long sleeve light sweaters under ridiculously two sizes too big knitted cardigans. I could more easily understand the warmth of these latter ladies; after all their top halves were basically shrouded in knitted blankets in the shape of cardigans...but it's the flats that I couldn't fathom. Within my two pair of socks my toes were numb by the end of the day. How could these girls go through the day wearing thin little flats?
I'd like to dress as the French girls do, but I'm fairly certain that I'd catch a severe cold or lose some appendages to hypothermia - no kidding. H&M has been calling to me for weeks from the sleek ads in the metro, saying "come buy warmer things" but thus far I've resolutely resisted upon principle. Remember how I packed two huge suitcases just bursting full of clothes to come to France? After lugging all those clothes here, I refuse to buy more that I'll have to lug home. If only the french girls would share their secret with me of wearing less while staying warm ..... If only.....
~Tam in Toulouse
Saturday, November 27, 2010
Thursday, November 25, 2010
A Happy Thanksgiving
If you've been following my blog for the last month or so you may have noticed a decidedly negative tone. Life here hasn't been exactly what I expected.... I already knew about French living, however going to a real French university and having my own apartment were new things for me. Both situations have been getting better little by little, but the process has been excruciatingly slow and filled with multiple pep talks.
This year is my dream - I've wanted to live in France and go to school here since I was 10. All of my friends have observed my love of Camembert and rose wine. They have sat through tons of anecdotes about "When I studied in Aix-en-Provence..." and "My French family...." I double majored in undergrad in English and French because I loved the history, culture, and literature of this magical place. Yet, despite my 'inner French self', I've been highly disappointed and bewildered at my lack of social/cultural outings and my lack of friends here in Toulouse. Being an extrovert I actually become lethargic and depressed the more time I'm by myself. Conversely, the more I'm around people the more energetic and happier I am. Living alone, completely alone, and having no friends here, combined with tough classes and graduate school worries, has been really hard on my spirit.
However, I think that God has answered the prayers in my heart that I was too sad to say aloud. Yesterday, two girls who are in a couple of my courses randomly came up to me and started speaking to me. Since such situations happen frequently, because I'm the shiny new American student, I figured they'd ask me some questions, say "wow" a few times, and saunter off, proud of themselves for having used their English skills to converse with 'the American'. To my complete delight and surprise they talked with me for quite some time; one of the girls rode the metro with me, continuing our conversation until my stop separated us. Today in class they saved me a seat and we passed notes back and forth during the dull moments in a mixture of French and English I like to call Franglais.
I'm a bit nervous at this recently development. I have, after all, attempted to make friends here with no luck. One girl and I had Latin together and we chatted for a couple days, but she stopped showing up and, although we have other courses together she does not sit by me in those. Another guy who I also had Latin with used to sit by me and chat a bit until I caught him outside class one day and tried some conversation. After that, he now sits as far across the room as possible, leaving me with an entire row of desks to myself :-(
My third attempt at making a friend was a girl from my 19th and 20th century Lit classes. She sat next to me once, but upon the next class meeting she was back to sitting in her usual spot. We chat sometimes - there may indeed be a friendship there some day, but right now I get the feeling that she pities me more than anything. She's constantly asking if I understand the course and how I'm feeling academically. Today I finally extracted some personal information out of her (she has a boyfriend) and I, in turn, revealed that I have one as well. Perhaps now our conversations can become less focused on my growing fear of French academic failure.
I've tried befriending English people as well (from Britain) with the same lack of luck. I went to a pub quiz night and had a wonderful time with a mixture of English and French students trying to answer the quiz questions, but those students are leaving in three weeks, and with my GRE's I haven't hung out with them outside of that one encounter, so I suppose that's a dead end. Similarly, I met some kids at the Harry Potter premier who were very kind and witty, but they never asked my name (even though I got theirs), or my number, or my facebook and they ended our convo with "Well, see ya around."
So, although I'm wary that these two new girls will abandon our burgeoning friendship, I'm also really excited at the possibility of retaining some friends finally. People to commiserate with over assignments and to drink coffee with on cold days, a little group to see a movie with or some girls to shop with, someone to check out funky restaurants with; I've missed such interaction.
Today is Thanksgiving in America, and though I imagined I'd miss out entirely on the holiday, I haven't. I get to be thankful today for the continued support and love from friends and family back home, for the opportunity to learn more French and be in this gorgeous, friendly country for the year, for Christmas break in three weeks, for HP 7 (which I saw twice in less than 24 hours), but most of all for the possibility of friends!!! :-)
~Tam in Toulouse
This year is my dream - I've wanted to live in France and go to school here since I was 10. All of my friends have observed my love of Camembert and rose wine. They have sat through tons of anecdotes about "When I studied in Aix-en-Provence..." and "My French family...." I double majored in undergrad in English and French because I loved the history, culture, and literature of this magical place. Yet, despite my 'inner French self', I've been highly disappointed and bewildered at my lack of social/cultural outings and my lack of friends here in Toulouse. Being an extrovert I actually become lethargic and depressed the more time I'm by myself. Conversely, the more I'm around people the more energetic and happier I am. Living alone, completely alone, and having no friends here, combined with tough classes and graduate school worries, has been really hard on my spirit.
However, I think that God has answered the prayers in my heart that I was too sad to say aloud. Yesterday, two girls who are in a couple of my courses randomly came up to me and started speaking to me. Since such situations happen frequently, because I'm the shiny new American student, I figured they'd ask me some questions, say "wow" a few times, and saunter off, proud of themselves for having used their English skills to converse with 'the American'. To my complete delight and surprise they talked with me for quite some time; one of the girls rode the metro with me, continuing our conversation until my stop separated us. Today in class they saved me a seat and we passed notes back and forth during the dull moments in a mixture of French and English I like to call Franglais.
I'm a bit nervous at this recently development. I have, after all, attempted to make friends here with no luck. One girl and I had Latin together and we chatted for a couple days, but she stopped showing up and, although we have other courses together she does not sit by me in those. Another guy who I also had Latin with used to sit by me and chat a bit until I caught him outside class one day and tried some conversation. After that, he now sits as far across the room as possible, leaving me with an entire row of desks to myself :-(
My third attempt at making a friend was a girl from my 19th and 20th century Lit classes. She sat next to me once, but upon the next class meeting she was back to sitting in her usual spot. We chat sometimes - there may indeed be a friendship there some day, but right now I get the feeling that she pities me more than anything. She's constantly asking if I understand the course and how I'm feeling academically. Today I finally extracted some personal information out of her (she has a boyfriend) and I, in turn, revealed that I have one as well. Perhaps now our conversations can become less focused on my growing fear of French academic failure.
I've tried befriending English people as well (from Britain) with the same lack of luck. I went to a pub quiz night and had a wonderful time with a mixture of English and French students trying to answer the quiz questions, but those students are leaving in three weeks, and with my GRE's I haven't hung out with them outside of that one encounter, so I suppose that's a dead end. Similarly, I met some kids at the Harry Potter premier who were very kind and witty, but they never asked my name (even though I got theirs), or my number, or my facebook and they ended our convo with "Well, see ya around."
So, although I'm wary that these two new girls will abandon our burgeoning friendship, I'm also really excited at the possibility of retaining some friends finally. People to commiserate with over assignments and to drink coffee with on cold days, a little group to see a movie with or some girls to shop with, someone to check out funky restaurants with; I've missed such interaction.
Today is Thanksgiving in America, and though I imagined I'd miss out entirely on the holiday, I haven't. I get to be thankful today for the continued support and love from friends and family back home, for the opportunity to learn more French and be in this gorgeous, friendly country for the year, for Christmas break in three weeks, for HP 7 (which I saw twice in less than 24 hours), but most of all for the possibility of friends!!! :-)
~Tam in Toulouse
Saturday, November 20, 2010
Thanksgiving
It's still days away from Thanksgiving...days away if you reside in America. Here in France Thanksgiving doesn't exist of course - no Native Americans to make peace with. Around Halloween I felt pretty nostalgic, and now I feel more waves of nostalgia crashing down on me as my American friends talk of 'Thanksgiving break' and 'Turkey Day' and 'Black Friday' deals - not that I am in favor of Black Friday - I did it like three times and that was enough for me....
I want turkey, ham, cranberry sauce, my grandmother's stuffing and homemade gravy, candied yams with brown sugar, butter, and marshmallows, the deviled eggs that my grams always allows me to make, green beans with probably too much salt, mashed potatoes with entirely too much butter and sweet iced tea to top off my meal....yum!
I'm not a huge holiday person in terms of throwing parties and buying presents and cooking for five hours for a meal consumed in one. However, I miss being a part of the American holiday season that runs nonstop from October through March, beginning with Halloween and ending in St. Patrick's Day. I miss loads of left over candy from Halloween, Thanksgiving food followed by football games, and I know I shall miss familiar Christmas carols blasting over the radio, 'What a Wonderful Life' & 'The Grinch who Stole Christmas' on television, New Years' from Times Square while I countdown midnight in Mississippi, hating on Valentine's Day by anti-celebrating with single friends, and pinching my friends because they forgot their green in March.
Perhaps I wouldn't feel so detached if I had a group of American friends with which to recreate Thanksgiving in France. Perhaps I would be fine if I knew that I'd be coming back to America at the end of December. Just maybe I might not miss the Holidays so much if I stayed off the internet and facebook.
But the reality is that I don't have a group of American friends, or any friends here for that matter, I'm missing all the holidays I love because I'm here till May livin' my dream, and being on the internet as much as I am helps me stay in contact with everyone stateside.
So, what's a girl to do? Well she's going to go see Harry Potter and The Deathly Hallows (twice)! At least that's the plan -if I can't have my holiday day every month I shall find alternate reasons to celebrate !!!
~Tam in Toulouse
I want turkey, ham, cranberry sauce, my grandmother's stuffing and homemade gravy, candied yams with brown sugar, butter, and marshmallows, the deviled eggs that my grams always allows me to make, green beans with probably too much salt, mashed potatoes with entirely too much butter and sweet iced tea to top off my meal....yum!
I'm not a huge holiday person in terms of throwing parties and buying presents and cooking for five hours for a meal consumed in one. However, I miss being a part of the American holiday season that runs nonstop from October through March, beginning with Halloween and ending in St. Patrick's Day. I miss loads of left over candy from Halloween, Thanksgiving food followed by football games, and I know I shall miss familiar Christmas carols blasting over the radio, 'What a Wonderful Life' & 'The Grinch who Stole Christmas' on television, New Years' from Times Square while I countdown midnight in Mississippi, hating on Valentine's Day by anti-celebrating with single friends, and pinching my friends because they forgot their green in March.
Perhaps I wouldn't feel so detached if I had a group of American friends with which to recreate Thanksgiving in France. Perhaps I would be fine if I knew that I'd be coming back to America at the end of December. Just maybe I might not miss the Holidays so much if I stayed off the internet and facebook.
But the reality is that I don't have a group of American friends, or any friends here for that matter, I'm missing all the holidays I love because I'm here till May livin' my dream, and being on the internet as much as I am helps me stay in contact with everyone stateside.
So, what's a girl to do? Well she's going to go see Harry Potter and The Deathly Hallows (twice)! At least that's the plan -if I can't have my holiday day every month I shall find alternate reasons to celebrate !!!
~Tam in Toulouse
Thursday, November 18, 2010
Red (rouge) Tape
Thus far I've had several frustrating, hilarious, confusing administrative situations. And thus far I've neglected relating them. However, I feel it is my duty to give a very quick run down of a few of them for anyone reading this that might someday decide to live/study in France.
1) OFII - Can't tell you what it stands for but basically the OFII has power over my 'Titre de Sejour'. That 'Titre' is the piece of paper accompanying my visa that allows me to live here for the duration of my studies. Even though there's an office here in Toulouse, I was supposed to mail copies of important papers to OFII. After a month, I receive a piece of paper in the mail telling me they received my papers and are reviewing them. One month after that I receive the seemingly same piece of paper, except this time my birthday is wrong and there's a fancy stamp on it. I go to the OFII office today. They set me up with an appointment for December 4th and have no idea why I received two almost identical papers. Furthermore they tell me that my address is bizarre. They don't say why, and no one else has mentioned this little tidbit to me, but yes, my address is bizarre.....
2) Vittavi - When you come to France you are required to get health insurance. It's also smart to invest in Traveler's Insurance for when you flit off to other countries sight-seeing. Supposedly when I signed up for school on October 4th they forwarded my paperwork onto my chosen health insurance company, Vittavi. However, one month and one cold later I had received nothing in the mail assuring me of coverage. I visit the Vittavi office here in Toulouse. "You need a pink paper from your school." I go to my school but they assure me my white paper will do. I return to Vittavi. "No, this one doesn't have 'proof of health insurance payment'. We need proof to process your request." Back to my university and this time the woman circles something on my white piece of paper. Back to Vittavi - "Okay. Perfect. We'll give you a provisional social security number for now and an attestation, but you have to mail us some documents." UGH! Okay so I ask which documents they need..."Copy of birth certificate in English and French. Bank account number." Luckily I had my birth certificates on hand. Unfortunately I didn't have my account number. Back to Vittavi the next day with my number - wait for twenty minutes just to hand the secretary my number.....
3)Caf - In France, if you're a student, and depending on other various factors, the government will reimburse part of your monthly rent payment. I filed the Caf in early October. In early November I receive 5 different pieces of paper telling me that I'm missing a social security number, copies of my birth certificate in English and French, and my "Titre de Sejour" - TWO OF THOSE WERE DEPENDENT ON OTHER ORGANIZATIONS!!!! - With little patience I went to the Caf office and handed over my OFII letter saying I had an appointment, my attestation of provisional social security number from Vittavi, and copies of my 'act de naissance'.... "Maybe this will work. Wait for something in the mail..." says the secretary. I foresee another letter telling me that I'm missing things....
The moral of these 3 situations is....always visit the organization at their headquarters - always bring every single important document that you needed to get into France (passport, photos, birth certificates, attestation that you are here on bourse (grant), etc) AND bring any that you received here (attestation of residence, bank account number, proof of housing insurance, proof of university registration, insurance attestation, etc...).
You're going to stand in line, you're probably going to be sent to 5 different offices in 5 different parts of the city, and you're probably going to be told that you are missing some document, number, or form that you didn't know you needed. C'est la vie! C'est la France!
~Tam in Toulouse
1) OFII - Can't tell you what it stands for but basically the OFII has power over my 'Titre de Sejour'. That 'Titre' is the piece of paper accompanying my visa that allows me to live here for the duration of my studies. Even though there's an office here in Toulouse, I was supposed to mail copies of important papers to OFII. After a month, I receive a piece of paper in the mail telling me they received my papers and are reviewing them. One month after that I receive the seemingly same piece of paper, except this time my birthday is wrong and there's a fancy stamp on it. I go to the OFII office today. They set me up with an appointment for December 4th and have no idea why I received two almost identical papers. Furthermore they tell me that my address is bizarre. They don't say why, and no one else has mentioned this little tidbit to me, but yes, my address is bizarre.....
2) Vittavi - When you come to France you are required to get health insurance. It's also smart to invest in Traveler's Insurance for when you flit off to other countries sight-seeing. Supposedly when I signed up for school on October 4th they forwarded my paperwork onto my chosen health insurance company, Vittavi. However, one month and one cold later I had received nothing in the mail assuring me of coverage. I visit the Vittavi office here in Toulouse. "You need a pink paper from your school." I go to my school but they assure me my white paper will do. I return to Vittavi. "No, this one doesn't have 'proof of health insurance payment'. We need proof to process your request." Back to my university and this time the woman circles something on my white piece of paper. Back to Vittavi - "Okay. Perfect. We'll give you a provisional social security number for now and an attestation, but you have to mail us some documents." UGH! Okay so I ask which documents they need..."Copy of birth certificate in English and French. Bank account number." Luckily I had my birth certificates on hand. Unfortunately I didn't have my account number. Back to Vittavi the next day with my number - wait for twenty minutes just to hand the secretary my number.....
3)Caf - In France, if you're a student, and depending on other various factors, the government will reimburse part of your monthly rent payment. I filed the Caf in early October. In early November I receive 5 different pieces of paper telling me that I'm missing a social security number, copies of my birth certificate in English and French, and my "Titre de Sejour" - TWO OF THOSE WERE DEPENDENT ON OTHER ORGANIZATIONS!!!! - With little patience I went to the Caf office and handed over my OFII letter saying I had an appointment, my attestation of provisional social security number from Vittavi, and copies of my 'act de naissance'.... "Maybe this will work. Wait for something in the mail..." says the secretary. I foresee another letter telling me that I'm missing things....
The moral of these 3 situations is....always visit the organization at their headquarters - always bring every single important document that you needed to get into France (passport, photos, birth certificates, attestation that you are here on bourse (grant), etc) AND bring any that you received here (attestation of residence, bank account number, proof of housing insurance, proof of university registration, insurance attestation, etc...).
You're going to stand in line, you're probably going to be sent to 5 different offices in 5 different parts of the city, and you're probably going to be told that you are missing some document, number, or form that you didn't know you needed. C'est la vie! C'est la France!
~Tam in Toulouse
Sunday, November 14, 2010
Paris GRE weekend Sat afternoon/Sunday
After the GRE, a new friend (named Vallentine) and I hung out commiserating at a cafe for quite awhile. He'd never been to Paris before, and was leaving on a train that evening, so we decided to be touristy and hit the two things you simply CANNOT miss if you visit Paris, the Eiffel Tower and the Arc de Triomphe. It was gross in Paris; misty sideways rain and quickly coming dusk made sight seeing less fun than expected. Inside another cafe a few streets from the Eiffel tower we warmed up, chatted, and reveled in speaking English. A couple of his friends joined us and dragged us to yet a different cafe in the center of Paris where we all hung out laughing and talk about nothing and everything.
I don't miss speaking English because I can't speak French, because I can. I miss speaking English because slang phrases such as, 'gotcha' 'that's what she said' 'sucks' whatever' etc. don't translate, and the French don't get it when I say such things in English. I miss being able to speak and express myself without consciously trying. It's something that I did not encounter when I studied abroad in Aix because my roommate was American. After a day of French, I could come in and say, "Day sucked. Blarg." She'd know exactly what I meant and how I felt. So, did I cheat all day on Saturday and speak English, OF COURSE I DID and you would too I bet.
After seeing my new friends to their train, I made my way toward my hostel trying to decide whether it would be worth it to see Sacre Coeur at night. First I needed dinner. When I realized that I was starving I was already standing in front of Jules Joffrin, so I simply crossed the street and entered Le NordSud. The cafe looked slightly expensive, but I reasoned that I hadn't had a good meal in Paris. The food menu was small and the wine menu was long, which is usually the case with a really good French restaurant. I settled on pasta, water, and an apple tart dessert. Now, I know that sounds normal and bland. But the pasta was tossed with tomatoes, olives, feta, ground beef, and eggplant and the apple tart literally melted in my mouth. The meal was beautiful and I was sorry that I couldn't finish all of it; it tasted SO good!!! I wouldn't mind visiting again and trying something else from their menu. Everyone around me cleared their plates, so the other items must be as yummy. My waiters where attentive, and although I was alone, I didn't feel so alone sitting side by side with two full tables of middle aged people and positioned so I could watch people pass by the window.
The hostel was only a few blocks away from Sacre Coeur, and by a few blocks I mean a few flights of stairs since Montmarte is a hill. Up the seemingly endless stairs I went...and I'm so glad that I decided to check it out. All lit up, Sacre Coeur was gorgeous against the black night sky. There was a mass going on inside which I sat through, all the while gazing up at the white robed, glittering, open armed Jesus set against the brilliant blue background of the dome. Sacre Coeur is now, hands down, my favorite church ever. I've visited multiple basilicas, churches, chapels, cathedrals (including Notre Dame), and only Sacre Coeur made me catch my breath and lower my eyes with humility. She's not gaudy or overdone, there aren't tons of alcoves with tombs or symbolic paintings. The interior is just arch after arch and dome after dome of gorgeous grey-white stone, two small areas of fragrant red and white candles, rows of wooden pews, and looking down on it all, a giant painted Jesus. I can't give her justice, but the next time I visit Paris I want to attend a service during daylight. *I'll mention that the view of Paris from the steps of Sacre Coeur is unforgettable - a must see for sure.
After my time at Sacre Coeur I slept long and hard. This morning, I woke up, caught breakfast in the cave once more, made it to my train just in time, and rode through the French country side back home to Toulouse. To be honest, I was quite sad to leave Paris.
~Tam in Toulouse
I don't miss speaking English because I can't speak French, because I can. I miss speaking English because slang phrases such as, 'gotcha' 'that's what she said' 'sucks' whatever' etc. don't translate, and the French don't get it when I say such things in English. I miss being able to speak and express myself without consciously trying. It's something that I did not encounter when I studied abroad in Aix because my roommate was American. After a day of French, I could come in and say, "Day sucked. Blarg." She'd know exactly what I meant and how I felt. So, did I cheat all day on Saturday and speak English, OF COURSE I DID and you would too I bet.
After seeing my new friends to their train, I made my way toward my hostel trying to decide whether it would be worth it to see Sacre Coeur at night. First I needed dinner. When I realized that I was starving I was already standing in front of Jules Joffrin, so I simply crossed the street and entered Le NordSud. The cafe looked slightly expensive, but I reasoned that I hadn't had a good meal in Paris. The food menu was small and the wine menu was long, which is usually the case with a really good French restaurant. I settled on pasta, water, and an apple tart dessert. Now, I know that sounds normal and bland. But the pasta was tossed with tomatoes, olives, feta, ground beef, and eggplant and the apple tart literally melted in my mouth. The meal was beautiful and I was sorry that I couldn't finish all of it; it tasted SO good!!! I wouldn't mind visiting again and trying something else from their menu. Everyone around me cleared their plates, so the other items must be as yummy. My waiters where attentive, and although I was alone, I didn't feel so alone sitting side by side with two full tables of middle aged people and positioned so I could watch people pass by the window.
The hostel was only a few blocks away from Sacre Coeur, and by a few blocks I mean a few flights of stairs since Montmarte is a hill. Up the seemingly endless stairs I went...and I'm so glad that I decided to check it out. All lit up, Sacre Coeur was gorgeous against the black night sky. There was a mass going on inside which I sat through, all the while gazing up at the white robed, glittering, open armed Jesus set against the brilliant blue background of the dome. Sacre Coeur is now, hands down, my favorite church ever. I've visited multiple basilicas, churches, chapels, cathedrals (including Notre Dame), and only Sacre Coeur made me catch my breath and lower my eyes with humility. She's not gaudy or overdone, there aren't tons of alcoves with tombs or symbolic paintings. The interior is just arch after arch and dome after dome of gorgeous grey-white stone, two small areas of fragrant red and white candles, rows of wooden pews, and looking down on it all, a giant painted Jesus. I can't give her justice, but the next time I visit Paris I want to attend a service during daylight. *I'll mention that the view of Paris from the steps of Sacre Coeur is unforgettable - a must see for sure.
After my time at Sacre Coeur I slept long and hard. This morning, I woke up, caught breakfast in the cave once more, made it to my train just in time, and rode through the French country side back home to Toulouse. To be honest, I was quite sad to leave Paris.
~Tam in Toulouse
Paris GRE weekend Friday/Sat morning
This weekend I went to Paris to take the GRE Literature Subject Test. Before I left Toulouse, I made sure I had a well reviewed hostel booked in a part of the city near tourist attractions and an easy metro ride away from my testing site.
The train ride from Toulouse to Paris is 5 1/2 hours, which is long, BUT it's a very pretty ride with lots of vineyards, olive groves, old castles (little ones), and meadows along the way. Second class was nicer than I expected. Then again, I only carried a backpack and my purse, so I think I had an easier time than people with large suitcases that wouldn't roll down the aisle and were too big to be stored overhead. *little piece of advice-travel SUPER light around Europe and just wash if you need to in your hotel room (most will have hair dryers if you need to dry your clothes quickly* Montparnasse, the train station in Paris (one of them anyway) seems crazy at first, but it's pretty organized. The metro is connected underground so there's no need to leave the station, and should you arrive hungry or sans travel info there are plenty of info kiosks, wall maps, and little restaurants.
*Thankfully, Paris has reduced price metro tickets for individuals 14-25. However, apparently I only bought the ones that work on Saturday. When you are buying metro tickets I suggest you buy in bulk and seriously pay attention to the zones that tickets are valid for and the days on which you can use them.* Hopping on line 12, I rode to Jules Joffrin and found my hostel literally right around the corner from the metro stop. The Montclair hostel was a good choice~ it was cheap, super friendly, and in a great location! Unfortunately, if you're on the first floor it can be really loud (I'm a heavy sleeper and it was hard to sleep) because the walls are quite thin and the doors naturally slam shut. But the hostel has a cool hippy kinda vibe and it was really clean! The spiral staircase and the cave made me happy for no reason other than it's a SPIRAL STAIRCASE and A CAVE!!! In my dorm style room I made friends with a New Yorker named Alex who ventured around our area with me in search of some travel supplies and dinner. Cafe d'Albert had yummy food for nice prices and a good atmosphere. The best thing though was the crazy, bejeweled painting on the wall of a wolf, a rooster, and a pot. After the long travel day and some good food it was time for me to put myself in my bed, study for a few hours, and get some sleep.
The next morning was surprisingly simple. I'm not a calm person when it comes to test days of any sort. I worry, I wake up way too early and somehow always end up lost, late, or forgetting something; it's just not a positive experience staring off the day. However, I woke up on Saturday morning, gathered my things quietly in the dark of my dorm style room and descended into the cave for breakfast. The metro stop was on line 12 and only a few stops away from Jules Joffrin, and surprisingly, the actual testing site for the GRE was just a short walk down the road. With the odd name 'Eurosites de la Chapelle' I was a bit worried about finding it, but it was a clearly marked white building. I'd made it, with no negative incidents !!! Awesome. I'm going to skip over the details for the test, except to say that it was so GOOD to hear ENGLISH, and that out of all the people taking the test the majority were Language Assistants.
***I'm glad I'm here, but it gets weirder and weirder knowing that Americans usually don't do what I'm doing. They come to teach or to do study abroad with programs. I feel a bit like Lewis or Clark - striking out into the vast unknown. So, the test was miserable, it was. And it's precisely supposed to be that way: 230 questions to answer in 170 minutes (aka 2 hours 50 minutes) and probably about 215 of those questions requiring you to read long passages and then refer back to those passages multiple times. And we're not talking about simple, factual passages, no we're talking Milton or symbolist poetry or Freudian criticism with words you've never seen before...
Like any other experience, I survived the test (should get my scores in 6 or so weeks) and it gave me a valid reason to take off to Paris for the weekend!
The train ride from Toulouse to Paris is 5 1/2 hours, which is long, BUT it's a very pretty ride with lots of vineyards, olive groves, old castles (little ones), and meadows along the way. Second class was nicer than I expected. Then again, I only carried a backpack and my purse, so I think I had an easier time than people with large suitcases that wouldn't roll down the aisle and were too big to be stored overhead. *little piece of advice-travel SUPER light around Europe and just wash if you need to in your hotel room (most will have hair dryers if you need to dry your clothes quickly* Montparnasse, the train station in Paris (one of them anyway) seems crazy at first, but it's pretty organized. The metro is connected underground so there's no need to leave the station, and should you arrive hungry or sans travel info there are plenty of info kiosks, wall maps, and little restaurants.
*Thankfully, Paris has reduced price metro tickets for individuals 14-25. However, apparently I only bought the ones that work on Saturday. When you are buying metro tickets I suggest you buy in bulk and seriously pay attention to the zones that tickets are valid for and the days on which you can use them.* Hopping on line 12, I rode to Jules Joffrin and found my hostel literally right around the corner from the metro stop. The Montclair hostel was a good choice~ it was cheap, super friendly, and in a great location! Unfortunately, if you're on the first floor it can be really loud (I'm a heavy sleeper and it was hard to sleep) because the walls are quite thin and the doors naturally slam shut. But the hostel has a cool hippy kinda vibe and it was really clean! The spiral staircase and the cave made me happy for no reason other than it's a SPIRAL STAIRCASE and A CAVE!!! In my dorm style room I made friends with a New Yorker named Alex who ventured around our area with me in search of some travel supplies and dinner. Cafe d'Albert had yummy food for nice prices and a good atmosphere. The best thing though was the crazy, bejeweled painting on the wall of a wolf, a rooster, and a pot. After the long travel day and some good food it was time for me to put myself in my bed, study for a few hours, and get some sleep.
The next morning was surprisingly simple. I'm not a calm person when it comes to test days of any sort. I worry, I wake up way too early and somehow always end up lost, late, or forgetting something; it's just not a positive experience staring off the day. However, I woke up on Saturday morning, gathered my things quietly in the dark of my dorm style room and descended into the cave for breakfast. The metro stop was on line 12 and only a few stops away from Jules Joffrin, and surprisingly, the actual testing site for the GRE was just a short walk down the road. With the odd name 'Eurosites de la Chapelle' I was a bit worried about finding it, but it was a clearly marked white building. I'd made it, with no negative incidents !!! Awesome. I'm going to skip over the details for the test, except to say that it was so GOOD to hear ENGLISH, and that out of all the people taking the test the majority were Language Assistants.
***I'm glad I'm here, but it gets weirder and weirder knowing that Americans usually don't do what I'm doing. They come to teach or to do study abroad with programs. I feel a bit like Lewis or Clark - striking out into the vast unknown. So, the test was miserable, it was. And it's precisely supposed to be that way: 230 questions to answer in 170 minutes (aka 2 hours 50 minutes) and probably about 215 of those questions requiring you to read long passages and then refer back to those passages multiple times. And we're not talking about simple, factual passages, no we're talking Milton or symbolist poetry or Freudian criticism with words you've never seen before...
Like any other experience, I survived the test (should get my scores in 6 or so weeks) and it gave me a valid reason to take off to Paris for the weekend!
Monday, November 8, 2010
Strike Some More Why Don't We?
It's after 2 a.m. I'm definitely supposed to be sleeping. Technically I have an 8 a.m. Latin class tomorrow....or do I?
After emailing my professors about missing their classes today in order to take the GRE, their replies explained that I'd missed nothing. "Le Mirail est en grève." My University has decided to go on strike again. Or rather the students have. Or maybe it's both. I'm honestly not sure. Apparently, last Thursday afternoon, the students blocked the doors to the academic buildings once more with tables, chairs, and desks.
I wouldn't know this because I have an 8 am literature course on Thursdays and no classes Thursday afternoon or Friday.
I'm American; I don't know how to handle strikes. Am I to trudge to class tomorrow morning to see if the University is still on strike? Or perhaps my duty lies in sleeping in a bit and getting some extra GRE literature studying done? There is supposedly a student meeting at noon to decided if the University re-opens...does that mean I will have afternoon classes? Or do classes restart Wednesday morning? And how does this affect our courses - we had ten course meetings left as of last week. Between the October strikes, the week of fall vacances (fall break), and now the November strikes, I feel like exams in late December and early January are going to hit me hard.
~confused Tam in Toulouse
After emailing my professors about missing their classes today in order to take the GRE, their replies explained that I'd missed nothing. "Le Mirail est en grève." My University has decided to go on strike again. Or rather the students have. Or maybe it's both. I'm honestly not sure. Apparently, last Thursday afternoon, the students blocked the doors to the academic buildings once more with tables, chairs, and desks.
I wouldn't know this because I have an 8 am literature course on Thursdays and no classes Thursday afternoon or Friday.
I'm American; I don't know how to handle strikes. Am I to trudge to class tomorrow morning to see if the University is still on strike? Or perhaps my duty lies in sleeping in a bit and getting some extra GRE literature studying done? There is supposedly a student meeting at noon to decided if the University re-opens...does that mean I will have afternoon classes? Or do classes restart Wednesday morning? And how does this affect our courses - we had ten course meetings left as of last week. Between the October strikes, the week of fall vacances (fall break), and now the November strikes, I feel like exams in late December and early January are going to hit me hard.
~confused Tam in Toulouse
The French Romance
Today was the day. GRE general test day, and I was scheduled to take it at the science university here in Toulouse. Because I live in the city center, it was necessary to take a 40 minute metro ride to the testing location. This ride was followed by fumbling around some academic building on a strange campus until finally arriving at a door marked "Prometric". I expected a prison-like atmosphere with cranky administration and a long list of rules and regulations. What I got was the French manner of handling the GRE, aka the French romance.
For all the infuriating, frustrating things about France (the strikes, the lack of fun, family holidays, the language that I STILL cannot speak fluently) there are counterbalances. And all the counterbalances I can think of are uniquely French, and seduce the individual into loving France. Such seductive counterbalances are the wine (none of which I've had in Toulouse yet), the bread, the language (it sounds so pretty!), the kindness of the people.... and now I can add to that list, the GRE.
Stepping into the outer testing room, I was offered tea or café (coffee) or water. The kind lady told me to sit down and take as many minutes as I needed to compose myself (I'd been running, literally running, a bit late due to getting lost). The administrator helped me put my things in a locker while speaking 'Franglais' (a mix of French and English). She kindly asked for identification and made small talk with me about the weather. After reminding me of the rules, she showed me into the inner GRE sanctum. A room no bigger than a glorified broom closet, the testing room had about 7 enclosed desks and, surprisingly for France, it was nice and warm.
In America the procedure was awful. The administrators were cold and indifferent. The room was freezing! And they even PATTED ME DOWN police-style before I was allowed to take a test that I'd paid over $250 dollars to take! I might also add that I was bitten or stung by something and told the administrator during the break to find out that the testing side had no first aid kit! It seemed like I was inconveniencing the Americans by taking the GRE, while here in Toulouse the administrator seemed happy to be in her position.
I truly believe that this administrator made my GRE experience a positive one today. At least, my score seems to reflect the positive vibe (or it was the more than month of studying - take your pick). She smiled, she encouraged, she reassured.... in short she was both my mother and my friend today. Sometimes you just NEED someone, in your native tongue, to look into your eyes and say, "You'll do great!" Even if it's not true and you fail, it's nice to hear and helps you believe in yourself.
So, for all my whining recently about my university here and all my work and studying, I happily admit that GRE day was a good day here in France. It was a great experience because it was so French, because it wasn't apathetic and intimidating like the experience last November in America.
~Tam in Toulouse
For all the infuriating, frustrating things about France (the strikes, the lack of fun, family holidays, the language that I STILL cannot speak fluently) there are counterbalances. And all the counterbalances I can think of are uniquely French, and seduce the individual into loving France. Such seductive counterbalances are the wine (none of which I've had in Toulouse yet), the bread, the language (it sounds so pretty!), the kindness of the people.... and now I can add to that list, the GRE.
Stepping into the outer testing room, I was offered tea or café (coffee) or water. The kind lady told me to sit down and take as many minutes as I needed to compose myself (I'd been running, literally running, a bit late due to getting lost). The administrator helped me put my things in a locker while speaking 'Franglais' (a mix of French and English). She kindly asked for identification and made small talk with me about the weather. After reminding me of the rules, she showed me into the inner GRE sanctum. A room no bigger than a glorified broom closet, the testing room had about 7 enclosed desks and, surprisingly for France, it was nice and warm.
In America the procedure was awful. The administrators were cold and indifferent. The room was freezing! And they even PATTED ME DOWN police-style before I was allowed to take a test that I'd paid over $250 dollars to take! I might also add that I was bitten or stung by something and told the administrator during the break to find out that the testing side had no first aid kit! It seemed like I was inconveniencing the Americans by taking the GRE, while here in Toulouse the administrator seemed happy to be in her position.
I truly believe that this administrator made my GRE experience a positive one today. At least, my score seems to reflect the positive vibe (or it was the more than month of studying - take your pick). She smiled, she encouraged, she reassured.... in short she was both my mother and my friend today. Sometimes you just NEED someone, in your native tongue, to look into your eyes and say, "You'll do great!" Even if it's not true and you fail, it's nice to hear and helps you believe in yourself.
So, for all my whining recently about my university here and all my work and studying, I happily admit that GRE day was a good day here in France. It was a great experience because it was so French, because it wasn't apathetic and intimidating like the experience last November in America.
~Tam in Toulouse
Saturday, November 6, 2010
Le Mirail prt 2
The professors come in and lecture, for TWO HOURS....it's infuriating for a student like me who needs to interact with the material to learn it. Out of my 6 courses, 2 involve active participation, and that participation is in the form of translating between French and another language.
The 'cold' feeling of Le Mirail also stems from it's location. Far from shopping or fun cafes or cute french 'places' (squares), the students only hang around the school for class and class only. No sports arenas to cheer on sports teams. No cafeteria in which to eat with people while you study or commiserate over an upcoming test or paper. No student union where you can sign up for fun events or check your student mail box.No lounge areas where you can sit in an armchair and finish your homework or wait for a friend. You sit next to people in class that may live outside of Toulouse, and almost everyone takes the metro to get to Le Mirail from other parts of the city and surrounding area.
Trust me, I wish I could gush about how pretty the school is or how great the atmosphere is, but I stand by my honesty. If I've painted a dismal picture of Le Mirail, it's because for me, an American southerner from a small, private college on the top of a mountain in Tennessee, it is dismal. But I'm getting a challenging, good education here and improving my French day by day. Here's to silver linings !
~Tam in Toulouse
The 'cold' feeling of Le Mirail also stems from it's location. Far from shopping or fun cafes or cute french 'places' (squares), the students only hang around the school for class and class only. No sports arenas to cheer on sports teams. No cafeteria in which to eat with people while you study or commiserate over an upcoming test or paper. No student union where you can sign up for fun events or check your student mail box.No lounge areas where you can sit in an armchair and finish your homework or wait for a friend. You sit next to people in class that may live outside of Toulouse, and almost everyone takes the metro to get to Le Mirail from other parts of the city and surrounding area.
Trust me, I wish I could gush about how pretty the school is or how great the atmosphere is, but I stand by my honesty. If I've painted a dismal picture of Le Mirail, it's because for me, an American southerner from a small, private college on the top of a mountain in Tennessee, it is dismal. But I'm getting a challenging, good education here and improving my French day by day. Here's to silver linings !
~Tam in Toulouse
Le Mirail prt 1
After attending class for the last month I've decided that class at Le Mirail is never going to be what I wish so fervently it was, which is anything akin to my undergraduate experience.
The students here are very bright. I'm amazed that they take notes in a thorough manner, using highlighters for important things, underlining, and using their margins. I've never seen an American take such fantastic notes, but EVERY Mirail student I've met does so. Aurora, a girl from two of my classes, says that in high school their teachers write on the board the same way, using different colors and highlighting and such, the students simply picked up the habit. I'm stupefied that the students I attend classes with write EVERYTHING that exits the professors mouth. Their highlighters and pens never leave their busy fingers even though classes are two hours long at minimum.
You read that right. Classes here are two hours long. To be honest, and I'm pretty good at paying attention, it's quite hard to sit still for two hours, urgently copying every piece of information that the professor gives, knowing that you have three more classes after the one you are currently in. My American brain, by the last class at 6:00 pm on Monday, is shot. I can't imagine doing homework or even speaking French after a day of full classes.
One of my Sewanee professors warned me that Le Mirail was 'cold'. She was quite right. Every building looms like the gate to some hideous industrial city. Everywhere is concrete, metal, and plexiglass. The tables are false, plastic wood and metal, as are the chairs I sit in for two hours at a time. The classroom floors are linoleum over concrete. There is no warmth and no pride in the institution at all. Graffiti covers the walls and many things are slightly broken. It's November and already I wear my coat in class because the cold air sinks into the stones at night and never seems to leave. There are no blinds for the windows, merely harsh metal grates to protect the classrooms from further vandalism when the school day is done. I attend class in an urban architectural hell.
The upside to the lack of warm surroundings is the professors, which have all seemed kind, although intimidating. Class is class no matter where you are. The first couple of meetings are spent doing busy work and getting a feel for each professor's style. There are differences though from American university, things that I'm missing terribly. Office hours don't exist -yes I've asked- I've been told by my professors to seek help from classmates or e-mail if I have a specific question about a specific assignment. Syllabi don't exist either. I have no idea where my courses are headed or when assignments are due. I don't know how my professors will calculate my grade or what their emails are....As far as I can tell the process is to read EVERY book you were required to buy, and those on the suggested list, hope you never have to miss class, and try to keep up. I haven't seen a single student ask questions in class, none of my courses are discussion based, and the professors don't use any one's names because they don't know them. I'm called 'the American', the Anglophone, the 'neighbor' of my classmate, 'next' or 'you'.
The students here are very bright. I'm amazed that they take notes in a thorough manner, using highlighters for important things, underlining, and using their margins. I've never seen an American take such fantastic notes, but EVERY Mirail student I've met does so. Aurora, a girl from two of my classes, says that in high school their teachers write on the board the same way, using different colors and highlighting and such, the students simply picked up the habit. I'm stupefied that the students I attend classes with write EVERYTHING that exits the professors mouth. Their highlighters and pens never leave their busy fingers even though classes are two hours long at minimum.
You read that right. Classes here are two hours long. To be honest, and I'm pretty good at paying attention, it's quite hard to sit still for two hours, urgently copying every piece of information that the professor gives, knowing that you have three more classes after the one you are currently in. My American brain, by the last class at 6:00 pm on Monday, is shot. I can't imagine doing homework or even speaking French after a day of full classes.
One of my Sewanee professors warned me that Le Mirail was 'cold'. She was quite right. Every building looms like the gate to some hideous industrial city. Everywhere is concrete, metal, and plexiglass. The tables are false, plastic wood and metal, as are the chairs I sit in for two hours at a time. The classroom floors are linoleum over concrete. There is no warmth and no pride in the institution at all. Graffiti covers the walls and many things are slightly broken. It's November and already I wear my coat in class because the cold air sinks into the stones at night and never seems to leave. There are no blinds for the windows, merely harsh metal grates to protect the classrooms from further vandalism when the school day is done. I attend class in an urban architectural hell.
The upside to the lack of warm surroundings is the professors, which have all seemed kind, although intimidating. Class is class no matter where you are. The first couple of meetings are spent doing busy work and getting a feel for each professor's style. There are differences though from American university, things that I'm missing terribly. Office hours don't exist -yes I've asked- I've been told by my professors to seek help from classmates or e-mail if I have a specific question about a specific assignment. Syllabi don't exist either. I have no idea where my courses are headed or when assignments are due. I don't know how my professors will calculate my grade or what their emails are....As far as I can tell the process is to read EVERY book you were required to buy, and those on the suggested list, hope you never have to miss class, and try to keep up. I haven't seen a single student ask questions in class, none of my courses are discussion based, and the professors don't use any one's names because they don't know them. I'm called 'the American', the Anglophone, the 'neighbor' of my classmate, 'next' or 'you'.
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