My Grenoble in Photos: the Good, the Bad, and the Ugly

This is it! I left Grenoble for my eurotrip equiped with a 30lb backpack. My body hates me already. It still hasn't set in that I'm done. Anyway...Grenoble...

The Good:

My favorite park in Grenoble. I've passed many an hour there "studying".

This girl. Wow, what an amazing friend! The funny thing is that we lived next to each other freshman year and just got to know each other this semester.

Kebabs: There are no words to describe this deliciousness. It's the North African version of Taco Bell.

O'Callaghan's. In the words of Forrest Gump, "That's all I have to say about that." Seriously though, I've spent many great nights there with Vivien and his friends.

The Bad:

Beggars. This woman yells curses at me each time I pass by her and don't give her anything.

Enough said.
I don't have a picture of my bus stop but it is definitely in the bad column. If I added up the time I have spent waiting for buses or on them, I'm sure it would add up into days, if not weeks.

The Ugly:

Whoever invented these was a man.

I have nothing to say about this except that I wasn't the person who stepped in it.
Bye from Portugal!

Marseille the second time around

Hi again,

When Lindsay and I bought train tickets to Marseille, it was with the understanding that we'd be soaking up the rays along the Mediterranean... then we checked the weather. Instead of being 80 degrees and sunny as we had envisioned, it rained all day on Friday and Saturday and most of the day on Sunday, but we still had a great time.

The last time I was in Marseille it was a very short trip so I really didn't get to see the "real" city outside of tourist attractions. This weekend we walked around a lot and saw some things that gave me a different opinion of the city. We checked into a hostel that was highly recommended by Lonely Planet and after walking through some sketchy areas we finally found it. It wasn't until we were unpacking that Lindsay came across a little paragraph in the guide book warning of dangers in Marseille. There is a four-block radius southeast of the train station that the book did not advise spending time in. Our hostel was smack dab in the middle of this area. We never had anyone accost us but every time we went area we had to walk past at least 20 cafes full of North African men who would either say something, whistle, block our path, stare at us, or all of the above. It was Morocco all over again, but a tiny bit less intimidating.

After unloading our bags, we headed out to explore. Within an hour or so we came across an extremely drunk homeless man who exposed himself to us. Our day improved after eating bouillabaisse, a fish stew, which is legendary in Marseille, (Lindsay happened to spot a rat in the restaurant next to ours) and then going to the Vieux Port where we sat and watched the sun set over the harbor.

Saturday, we went to the legendary Chateau d'If of Dumas fame (The Man in the Iron Mask and The Count of Monte Cristo). It was quite a depressing visit, actually. The docent gave a very long explanation of the different famous people who had been in the prison and the ways they were killed. It's amazing how creative the jailers got. The inmates faced stake burnings, strangulations, drownings, starvation, etc., etc. or they spent upwards to thirty years in a stone room with one window and lost their minds. The carvings in the rock were extremely inticate and some date back to the 18th Century. All in all, it was interesting but not worth the 10 euros it cost to take the ferry there and back, especially considering that it was mating season for seagulls and we were getting dive bombed by enormous birds while walking around the island.

Cell from The Man in the Iron Mask

Water surrounding Chateau d'If

The cliffs that killed anyone who managed to escape from the cell, get past the guards, and scale the fortifications.

Cell of Edmond Dantes from the Count of Monte Cristo

After that upifting visit we walked around the fish market around the port. It is quite an experience. The smell is absolutely overpowering and there are hundreds and hundreds of seagulls hanging about waiting for the heads and bones that the fishmongers (who are almost all women) toss away.

We also happened to stumble across a regular market where we bought some gifts and then yet another protest, the preferred national past-time. The video below is hard to understand because the music was blaring, but you can see that it was basically a parade. I estimate that there were well over 3000 people there all handing out flyers and shouting their slogans for retirement, socialism, arachism, students' rights, you name it.

That night we had couscous at a North African restaurant around 9:00. It was so good that we didn't even mind the creepy men there that stared at us as we ate. While we were walking back to our hostel and bypassing the numerous piles of garbage lying in the street, we saw quite a few rats running across our path. I'm just thankful that we were not there during the garbageman strike that happened a while ago. Trash was not picked up for at least a week and you can imagine what a paradise that would be for our furry friends.

Our last day was a fail in terms of travel. We wanted to spend the day in Cassis but we missed the bus in the morning and had to take a later one. It's a long and annoying story but we only managed to spend ten minutes there (most of that in the tourism office) before we had to return. The weather finally cleared up in Marseille so we spent the rest of our day walking and sitting along the port. Not bad, not bad at all.

Notre Dame de la Guard

The Vieux Port where we spent many hours

Columns on one of Marseille's many cathedrals

Fishing boat in the midst of getting repainted

I have a love-hate relationship with Marseille. Despite the crude men and the general dirtiness, it is an extremely culturally rich city. We saw women wearing traditional African tribal dresses, fishermen selling their catches, Moroccan men drinking their mint tea, and kids swimmig in the port (the color of the water and the debris floating in weren't entirely enticing, but to each his own). It was interesting to note the many differences between Grenoble and Marseille, especially since it takes only two hours to travel between the two cities. It really is like entering a foreign country so, as much as I enjoyed myself, I let out a sigh of relief when we were in familiar surroundings again.

Have a good week!

Hello friends,

Summer has hit full force here and I have a nasty sunburn and pretty flower pictures to prove it. On one of our numerous free days, Lindsay and I ventured to Vizillle, the place where I caught a ride with a random man last fall, to catch some rays and people watch. And we were not disappointed on either point. We went on a Thursday around mid-day and the park was absolutely packed. One can't help but wonder if the French ever work or go to school. A couple of hours into our adventure, we spied a young boy who was in the midst of dropping his pants and then proceeding to pee in the grass while his mom took pictures. This is why French men grow up thinking it is acceptable to urinate in public.

The chateau

In other news, I have taken the bus so much that I am now on first name basis with all the bus drivers. They all tease me for my American accent and I make fun of them for their driving skills and for smoking on the bus, a forbidden act, which they all do anyway. My favorite bus driver calls me "ma cherie" and, strangely enough, I'm going to miss all of them a lot when I leave TWO WEEKS FROM TODAY.

I try not to think about how fast the time has flown, but the saving grace of this is that the beaches of Spain and Portugal await me. If anyone knows of anyone in those countries who'd be willing to house a really cool 21-year-old for a couple of days, let me know. The agenda is Biarritz, San Sebastian, Leon, Porto, Lisbon, Faro, Sevilla, Grenada, Madrid, Toledo, Valencia, Castello, Barcelona, Paris, et finalement, home. Whew!

On to the pictures. I went a little overboard with the flower pictures, but they were too pretty not to take a picture of.

Proof that I do live in the country: this is on the way to the bus stop

It was over 80 degrees and Ben and Mathias went skiing the day I took this photo. No thank you!

Have a good weekend! Marseille tomorrow!

More random things

I just overheard this conversation and thought it was quite representive of how confusing French can be.

Person 1: Salut!
Person 2: Salut! Ca va?
1: Ca va, ca va. Ca va?
2: Ca va, ca va.
blah, blah, blah for a half a minute or so
1: Salut!
2: Salut!

It's all about the intonation when you're using the same three words over and over again.

In other news, I went on my second motorcycle ride. Love it! We went to our favorite Irish pub and I have to say that I felt pretty bad ass walking in with my borrowed leather jacket and helmet and ordering my beer.

That's all.

Wow, it's been a long time

I hope everyone is having a fabulous Monday. I have to start off with some very good news from today. I have a job! I shouldn't get too excited because it's only for two weeks before school starts and only pays $100 a week, but that's beside the point. The job title is International Student Advisor, which is just a fancy way of saying I get to hang with Albion's four international students for two weeks, taking them shopping, to the movies, helping them sign up for classes, and teaching them all the hottest dance moves (hahaha).

So, on to France stuff now. All of the sudden Grenoble has burst in bloom. It's really incredible how fast the landscape has changed from ugly, brown blobs that used to be plants into flowering trees and lush grass. Today I saw a pile of cottonwood fluff and the allergy meds are in my purse and ready to go (just in case).

The other day I was out on the porch trying to get rid of my ghostlike appearance and Mamy (the grandma) came over. We decided to play some Scrabble outside since nothing much was going on. The team selection was going on and no one seemed to want me on their team, which cued me that this was not going to go well. For this family, a game of Scrabble is not a game, it is war. They're bloodthirsty! Yes, they're "those people" who actually have a dictionary, but not just any dictionary, a Scrabble dictionary, on the table. I am horrible at Scrabble in English and there isn't a word to describe my skills in French Scrabble. Two and three letter words were the most I could handle. Mamy didn't even take pity on me! I put down a five-letter word that I was so proud of and according to the Scrabble Bible, it didn't count. Later on I put together some words that I had heard around town. Once I placed them, everyone either burst out laughing or stared at me. One word was "asshole" and the other was a sex position (I didn't know, I swear). That was embarrassing.

The great thing and problem with living with a family is that I learn many slang terms. These words should not be used in everyday language, but I don't know that until I say it to someone and they either tell me right away or they don't tell me and I find out in school or from friends later. Either way, I'm sure I turn bright red.

Anyway, enough of my embarrassing moments. Some interesting things I have noticed about eating habits here:
1. I was telling the fam about eating corn on the cob and their response was "Thats what farm animals eat." In other words, it's uncivilized. They'll eat pig blood and snails but they don't eat corn on a stick. Weird. The sad part of all this is that you can't find corn ANYWHERE unless it's the canned variety.
2. They peel the skin off everything...apples, pears, potatoes. They also cut their fruit before they eat it (it's more elegant to chew on an apple slice then chomp into a whole apple). I'm a convert to this eating technique.
3. They eat around 8 or 9:00 every night. This was hard to adjust to, but I love it now.
4. They always have bread with every meal, duh, this is France for all. Cheese for every lunch and dinner, too.
5. It's rude to have your no-dominant hand on your lap while at the dinner table. I have a really hard time actually doing this.
6. It's rude to cut salad. You use a piece of bread to fold it on the fork.
7. The plate is always wiped clean with a piece of bread after each course. Gotta get all the juicey and saucey goodness!

There's probably more too, but it's 8:30 and time to eat dinner.

Ciao

Musical success

Hello again,

I didn't trip or start singing at the wrong moment! The musical actually went really well, and I even had fans in the audience. I don't have pictures, but they're rumors that there's a video floating around somewhere, being saved for use as blackmail.

The past week or so has been very emotionally draining because Betty, my adopted grandma, has been in the hospital. It's difficult to know that someone I love is in pain and I can't be there. This is the hardest part about being so far away from home for so long; not being there to celebrate the good events (marriages, pregnancies, etc.) and console each other about the bad (sickness, death, etc.).

Have a good week,
Liz

7 month anniversary

Hello all,

How time flies! I have been in France for seven months, as of Wednesday. In honor of that I thought I'd do a little summary of my feelings at the moment. Have I had the time of my life? Definitely. Has it always been rainbows and butterflies? Not at all. There have been a lot of times when I've wanted to run to the airport and get on the first plane out of France. This past week, the mass transportation workers striked in Grenoble, meaning that one in four buses passed in town and where I live not a single bus passed until 3:00 in the afternoon, by which time I had missed all my classes. It's little things like this that are a normal part of French life that I have not and will probably never become accustomed to. The language is another obstacle. Although I understand almost everything that is said, there are also a lot of times when I have no idea what's going on. This is often the case at dinner when there are at least seven of us at the table every night (sometimes up to twelve or thirteen people) and everyone is talking quickly and loudly at the same time. This has been one of the hardest adjustments for me because I prefer peace and quiet and large groups of people exhaust me after a while.

Despite all these annoyances, there are also many things that I enjoy. I can tell that I have grown in so many ways from my experiences here. Never again will I mock a non-Anglophone's accent in English. Even friendly teasing really hurts and it's extremely frustrating to know that you stick out like a sore thumb the moment you open your mouth (I can't tell you the number of times that I have been asked if I'm German or Russian). I can also say that I am much more sulf-suficient. Being in difficult situations, dealing with them yourself, and coming out OK is a liberating feeling.

I guess I would sum these seven months as a love-hate relationship with the French and their culture. I dislike the fact that the French are always on strike (they get four weeks of vacation and 35 hr. work week, for God's sake), that almost every single person has or currently smokes, that they NEVER pick up dog crap, they don't talk to their neighbors, and that NOTHING is open on Sundays. On the contrary, I appreciate their waste-not attitude (if mold is growing on the cheese, they just scrape it off), they use the least amount of water and energy possible (10 min. showers, at the most; no drying machines), cities are very pedestrian and bike friendly, and they appreciate a good bottle of wine. It's impossible to say if France is better than the US or vica versa, but I can appreciate the positives and negatives of both cultures.

There are a little over three months remaining before I head back home and I am both looking forward to it and dreading it. While I have improved in French, I now find it difficult to express myself in English. It is difficult to think of words that would have come easily to me before and the fact that I will be taking Spanish next semester will complicate things even further. Another small but significant change is that I have followed French culture for so long that I have no idea what's going on in politics (I heard about the health care bill, don't worry), what songs and movies are popular, what clothes are "in". In other words, returning home will be like entering a foreign country again. My host family asked me the other day why I don't follow American news and my response was that France was my home until July. When I left home, my goal was to emerge myself as much as possible in French culture and I've done that to the best of my ability.

One of the activities that I've engaged in is a musical that is taking place this weekend. This past week we have been rehearsing at least four hours each night and we're all exhausted. It's hard enough to memorize 25 songs in English, but this is in French! However, there is one song in English and I'm providing an excerpt because I think it's hilarious.

"Hey man keep going far your own seat.
You should blow your horn and play music as I have told you tonight. Yeah. Yeah.
But if you drink or take bad sweets please watch your mind.
I will fire you and you won't come back.
Listen to music as you start up your set.
Would you please show me that you give me your best.
Listen to music as you start up your set.
You shouldn't relax up midnight time comes up..."

The Haitian man who wrote this was so proud of it and I didn't have the heart to tell him that it wasn't exactly grammatically correct English. This is the one and only song that I have a micro so I have to do it justice. Here's hoping that I don't fall on my face in front of 300 people!