Nantes, je t'aime

I am so happy here. I want to stay forever.

Today I ate dejeuner (lunch) with my family, an older son and his wife, a daughter-in-law and her two month old petit bebe, and a former IES student. We had wine, ate chicken and zucchini and salad with mushrooms and green beans, and finished with an apple tart and a sweet caramel bread. The meal was delicious, but the french conversation made the afternoon. I like meeting new french people and watching the french family dynamic. Although I can not always easily say what is on my mind, it is a fun challenge to speak only in french with each conversation. The extended family is tres sympa and I am excited to continue to get to know them better throughout the semester. I also went to conversation club tonight and ended the two hours wishing we could stay for two more. I was in a group with the same guy from my first meeting (almost best friends now, of course) and his friend. The conversations always start off a little slow but quickly we began sharing stories and playing games. Some insight from my new french friend: It is just fun to meet new people, and speaking in both French and English makes the relationship stronger. We come from different parts of the world but we can easily spend two hours talking and laughing, and that is a great feeling. Did I mention that I love conversation club?

Tonight I confirmed that I will be staying with my host family for Noel. Christmas is my favorite time of the year to be at home with my family (just thinking about it gives my body the warm, completely content feeling of being around the Christmas tree in the morning), but I have a french family too now and I am excited to experience Noel in Nantes. We will stay at the other house in the countryside with more extended family to share the holiday season together. My host brother was excited to hear that I am staying longer and I am excited for my first Christmas with a brother and little sister!

How to make a bed sandwhich

I just found out I have been sleeping in my bed the wrong way: the American way. In the States, we arrange our beds with a bed skirt, a fitted sheet hugging the mattress, a tired student, a flat sheet, maybe a woolly blanket, and then a comforter. In France, the beds have all the same sheets, but the tired student is supposed to sleep sandwiched between the flat sheet and the comforter. C'est bizarre if you ask me (in general, a sandwich is a sandwich no matter what side of the bread the peanut butter is on versus the jelly, but the bed is a particular sandwich that needs to be aware of it's order). Apparently all of the other students that my family has hosted continued sleeping the American way during their stay, and when my host brother went to Colorado this summer, he could not understand why someone would sleep under the flat sheet. It is another interesting aspect of our two separate cultures. For both countries, it is just normal to sleep a certain way and we do not analyze it too much until someone thinks the opposite is normal. I am still deciding whether I will sleep like an American or like the French tonight.

One reason to sleep like an American is to enjoy the extra warmth from being under the flat sheet (oh those silly Americans). It is finally getting cold (froid) here and I am un peu triste to say that the days of shorts and t-shirts are gone. I have been trying to milk the days that I can get away with wearing shorts, but when I speak of the weather now I say "Il fait froid" because "Il fait chaud" (it is hot) and "Il fait beau" (it is beautiful) are only memories. However, I love cold weather clothing and definitely appear more French when I sport my winter wardrobe. I wear a scarf every day (bien sur) and I love stripes so I can pass off as french fairly well.

There is an H&M close to IES in le centre-ville and I am praying that I win a shopping spree while I am here. It is one of those stores where I would literally buy almost every winter outfit there if I had plus d'argent (more $$$). Since my birthday is this weekend, I was thinking about setting up a gift registry that I can post in the IES building. I could mark the clothes that I want from all the tres a la mode stores here and the other students could cross off each item after they buy it for me. That would be about 80 gifts as long as no one buys duplicates, and I would be tres content!

To update my travels, add Mont St Michel and Saint Malo to the list. They are in northwestern France and are tres jolie. Mont St Michel is a massive abbaye surrounded on all sides by a bog of shallow, gritty water. We toured the inside (after climbing halfway up the little island) and saw giant cathedral-like rooms and dozens of small rooms with petits shrines. Below the abbaye sits the town which thrives from the tourism. The stone streets are narrow and overflowing with visitors viewing medieval-looking gift shops and creperies on top of more creperies and sandwich stalls. There is a wall that wraps around the entire ville with a view of the surrounding miles of bog and squawking seagulls overhead. The view approaching Mont St Michel almost makes the whole trip worthwhile because in just minutes the tiny abbaye grows to become a towering stone mountain.

 

Saint Malo is about an hour away along the coast. It is a beautiful little ville with giant golden sandy beaches. The water has four colors of blue that stripe and blend away from the shore and tempt visitors to swim even in the chilly weather. The outer wall holds in a typical french town with cafes, music in le centre-ville, cobble stone streets, and stalls for all sorts of treats covered with nutella. We arrived during low tide and the beach was very large (and probably very crowded during the summer).

Get ready for me to spit some slang. There is a type of slang here called Verlan that is popular with the younger French crowd. It involves reversing the syllables of common words. If speaking french with les jeunes is not hard enough already, reversing the syllables is just crazy! Some examples would be saying "reum" for "mere" (mother) or "reup" for "pere" (father). My host brother and his friends tried to explain it to me and I did not really understand, but when it came up again with my family at dinner, it finally clicked in my french mind. When I can communicate with my friends with Verlan, ouem, je serai un keum cool!

Strike Two

There will be another strike (un autre greve) in Nantes tomorrow! I am actually pretty excited because I might get to see some extra chaos in le centre-ville as people fill the streets with unrest. I have not looked up the complete effects of this greve, but I know all the trams and bus lines are limited which means I might get to walk to school (Many nights when I go out, I end up walking to le centre-ville because the tram only comes every twenty minutes and I can walk to my destination before the tram even arrives. If I follow the tram line, it takes about 30 minutes to walk to class. I walk along l'Erdre river and past dozens of cafes, the round tables and umbrellas just a few feet from the tracks, and it is a really safe way to walk from my neighborhood into town. I really enjoy walking everywhere, so if it were up to me, the transportation workers could go on strike every week). My host brother does not have class tomorrow because of the greve, so he is even more excited than me. Les greves usually happen on Thursdays or Fridays so they can "bridge" the weekend (how convenient).

Speaking of the weekend, Sundays (le dimanche) in France give people another reason to take the day off to relax. Except for the necessities (police, hospitals, and transportation), almost all businesses are closed. I personally love it- the sun is warm on your back, you can pique-nique beside le chateau, the streets are calm- it really makes the day feel like a relaxing Sunday. However, there is a little controversy about whether stores should open on Sundays now. Apparently, Michele Obama wanted to go shopping in Paris with her girls, but because it was a Sunday, Nicolas Sarkozy had to call the owners to have them open their stores
for her. Many workers feel like they do not have a choice in whether or not to work on Sundays because those who refuse to work can have their vacation days cut. They are trying to pass a law to open more stores, but I say let the french be french and take the day off!

I feel like you know you are a real part of the family when arguments are not hidden during dinner. My family has really taken me in just like another child, and with that acceptance comes the responsibility of listening to family drama. Like any other family with children, there are little disputes fairly often. My family has been open to telling me beaucoup d'information about grades, daily mistakes, and the topic of a dinner-time argument (During a conflicting discussion, my host dad will ask if I understand, and then he will explain the two sides of the argument). Tonight there was a discussion about internet access and the idea of addictions to computers and tobacco. I usually sit patiently and sip on my shot glass of water during the uncomfortable silences. I try not to take sides because I often agree with my host siblings but I want to please my host parents.

My host sister's birthday is tomorrow so that is another reason to be excited. I am going to probably buy her some flowers to spread around her room before she comes home. We already have a cake (un gateau) for her and there is going to be a special meal for dinner. I asked if french kids have cake and ice cream for their birthdays (since they go so well together at birthday parties across the States), and although they usually do not pair the two together, my host mom is going to buy some ice cream to have an "American" birthday.

My host mom said my french is already much better than before because I can understand and speak with less hesitation (I agree and je suis tres content). I can definitely feel when my mind is in French-mode versus English-mode. I went to my first Conversation Club in Nantes which grouped IES students with native french students. It was actually really exciting and helpful and I already met a french guy who is interested in hanging out with us (Everyone who has been in the program before regrets not making more native french friends. I am going to try to nuzzle my way into some genuine french friendships before the semester is over). We spoke half the time in french and half the time in english so we could all practice our foreign language skills. The people who show up are interested in speaking/foreign languages and can carry a conversation, so it is a great place to practice and learn about french culture. I will deinitely find a conversation club in the States so I can continue to speak french with people while I am away from France. I will also probably just continue speaking in Franglais because some words just make more sense in french.

Le foot

I played my first soccer match in France today (in France, a soccer game is a "match du foot"). I went with my host brother and about eight of his friends to l'Hippodrome, an area close by with dirt and grass soccer fields, and we played against some older French guys who were obviously very skilled with their feet. I started at midfield and worked my way back to goalie by the end of the game. Soccer is so much harder when you can not communicate easily (Everything is harder with a language barrier). I could not understand what the other players were saying half the time, and when they were yelling "Sors!" while I was goalie, my mind was too distracted by the guy with the ball sprinting toward me past all the defenders to realize that they were telling me to go out further from the goal. It was fun and active and good to be around younger French people, but I also felt especially different from everyone else (not singled-out, because they embraced me and included me like just another friend, but I was aware that I was the only foreigner).

However, my comfort level is tested almost every day in France, and by now nothing really makes me feel too anxious. I feel like if I can interact with a group of competitive, slang-spitting soccer players even without much communication, then I can do almost anything. I am not sure if it could be called confidence, but it is definitely expanding my comfort level. Another conflict of feelings I have had involves how I feel around people. In one way, I always feel like I am slightly being judged here for being a foreigner, whether it be my clothes, my speech, or my mannerisms. But I also have a growing feeling that I do not mind feeling slightly different here. Whenever I feel self conscious, I remind myself that I am in FRANCE- I have nothing really to prove, nothing to lose, and everything to gain. My previous feelings or nervousness about looking stupid while doing something are completely gone now. I have to ask dumb questions and exchange slightly broken conversations so often that I would get nothing accomplished if I was afraid to step out of my box.

Things I have experienced recently:
1. A man in the street (drunk?) who was very aggressive and persistent with a large group of the IES students and other people walking in the streets. I could not understand him (nor did I try) but he was yelling at no one and getting in other people's faces. He even messed with a couple and their child in a stroller (literally touching the stroller during his interaction) and made everyone around very uncomfortable.
2. Good crepes. They are always presented on the plate folded into a square with all the ingredients inside. My favorite crepe for dinner right now is anything with mushrooms (les champignons) and fromage. Of course my favorite for dessert is a crepe oozing with warm chocolate.
3. Le Musee de Beaux Art and Musee d'Histoire Naturelle. This weekend was Journees du Patrimoines so all the museums and monuments in Nantes were open and free! The centre-ville was teeming with locals and visitors moving from museum to museum. The art museum was exciting and the white walls were very tall to hold huge paintings. There were paintings by Picasso and Monet and hundreds of French artists and I was amused by "Un Concert des Oiseaux" by Frans Snyders which shows dozens of different types of birds all singing together. The natural history museum was packed with people viewing rows of sparkling rocks and there was even a line just to view the upstairs taxidermy exhibit. It was the at the end of a long day of walking so I opted to skip the line and come back and visit more museums another day.
4. Family game night with a French family! My host mom and sister and I have started playing Settlers of Catan after dinner. I really enjoy this game and now I can play it in two languages! It did not take long to remember the resource cards (du bois, de la brique, de la roche, du mouton, du ble) and it is a fun way for me to practice asking questions and making deals in french. So far, my host mom won the first game and I won tonight. A little family competition only brings us closer together!
5. Lunch choice confusion. It was just my host brother and I home for lunch today and we ate at different times. I was not super hungry, but I ate a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and a peanut butter and nutella sandwich. My host mom was shocked to hear what I had for lunch and was getting mad at her son for not making me a proper lunch. I had to explain that pb&j's are fairly common and acceptable for lunches in the States.

We are all just people

I went to watch my host brother at boxing practice tonight and I had an almost-epiphany. I was watching normal guys and girls in their athletic gear softly punching each other while a coach yelled directions and advice. For some reason, while seeing each person's face become more red after each punch, I felt an overwhelming sensation that we are all just people. We all sweat the same, jog the same, joke the same, and feel the same sting when a glove smacks across the face. The only thing different is our language, but even that is nearly the same too. The French communicate the same feelings and thoughts and questions as I do, they just use different vocabulary. It is hard to fully communicate an almost-epiphany even with two languages worth of vocabulary, but it was a feeling of togetherness that was really satisfying. Also at the gym, I saw a workout technique where people walk around each other like crabs, and black belters flipping and slamming each other until their torsos were red (what an amusing night).

I also recently have found myself going half the day before I remember, "I am in FRANCE." I will be walking around the centre-ville, carrying a baguette and cheese round for a pique-nique, listening to an accordion or sax player in the street, and it all feels natural. Then I look at a sign written in french and realize I am in FRANCE and I remember what an awesome adventure I am on. I think that is exactly how I want to feel right now. I feel comfortable walking around town, but even the smallest things like sitting around a fountain are really exciting and fresh.

During a conversation at dinner, I was told that sometimes Americans think that the French are racist. They call people Blacks or Chinese to collect similar looking people into a group. However, it has absolutely no negative connotation like it would in the States (with the Arabs, there is negative tension, "but that is for a different reason," said my host father). France just implemented a new law where women cannot cover their face with a niqab anymore. I found this to be a huge shock and almost an insult, but my host family is satisfied with the law. They said that women who wear these veils cannot be identified while driving or taking a test. Wearing a niqab is not a written religious law but rather a custom, and my host mother is more in favor of the law than against it. It is with customs like these (and table manners, and people not smiling on the sidewalk) that I have to just remember that France has a different culture and that everything has a little different meaning. Rather than trying to connect everything here to something familiar to my culture, it is necessary to act like an infant and take things as they are without placing my previous ideas on them.

There is a little throat scratchiness going around with the IESers and the best advice I have heard so far is, "Wear a scarf around your neck and you will never get sick." So I bought a scarf. If you ever want to look European, just wear a scarf. It does not matter what else you wear, a scarf will give you that European fashion confidence that says "I look good AND I am warm." As for fashion, a scarf should be high on the list in winter for each outfit. French guys have taken the American preppy two steps farther. To fit in, guys need to wear collared shirts with their collars popped (or multiple shirts layered with popped collars) and a sweater wrapped around the shoulders. Their shoes are generally simple and converse-style (except for the high class guys who wear dressy, narrow-toed shoes with their slick business-pressed slacks and button-down shirt). Guys wear capris here very often, but I am not sure if everyone can pull it off. However, I like the way they look and hope it comes to the States soon. People are also wearing parachute-like pants that are baggy around the waist and thighs but tight around the ankles. The fabric is usually light and moves easily, but it is unlike any common pants worn by people in the States. Girls often wear capris styled this way- baggy but tight around the knee- but the only guys who I have seen sporting this style have been more free-spirited/less likely to want an office job type of guys. I think this style will probably stay in Europe.

Some common french utterings:
1. "buh oui" is a pretty normal thing to hear around the house, and I guess the "buh" is just a French filler. 2. When someone wants to get your attention or find where you are, they might say "cou cou." We heard this fairly often on the bus during IES orientation.

Some things I have eaten recently:
1. Kangaroo sausage at a market (probably a joey, sad but tasty). 2. Confiture (jam) de figues et poires. 3. A casserole with cheese and zucchini. 4. A two-foot baguette for .80 euro. 5. Baby flan in a plastic cup at the University cafeteria. 6. La barbe a papa (cotton candy).

The freshness of France

I began today with my usual petit dejeuner (breakfast) of peanut butter and nutella on slices of fresh bread (like a reeces sandwich mmm) with a few shot glass-sized cups of jus d'orange. In France, people do not eat eggs or bacon for breakfast (eggs are for dinner usually) and they drink their hot tea out of large bowls. The milk here is a half milk/half cream mixture and each morning our table is covered with different breakfast choices for all the kids to have before leaving. I eat by myself usually because we all leave the house at different times in the morning.

 

 

I met up with some friends this afternoon and went to a market in town to gather supplies for a pique-nique. There were stalls upon stalls of flakey breads, huge blocks of cheese waiting to be cut, meats and fish that gave the market it's distinct smell, vegetables pulled fresh from French soil, and fruits oozing with ripeness. The market was flooded with people toting bags full of fresh goods for the week. It was very exciting and I plan to make it a habit to browse under the market tents each week. We took our purchases to a park near the train station and down the street from one of my friend's house. The grass was green and dewey, the flowers were blooming reds and golds and blues, and all the benches were filled with people lunching. We ate fresh baguettes, cheese, sausage, and pears under the sun in the grass. After lunch, I went with a few girls to check out a rowing club near our houses. The river was crowded with people in kayaks, paddle boats, and canoes and a giant lunch/tour barge was seating beaucoup de guests. The area along the l'Edre river is very refreshing to be around because everyone is active and lively.

Tonight my family had their neighbors and one of their son's family over. I met the son and his wife and made silly faces to their four month old baby boy. (Apparently french babies make different baby noises than babies in english-speaking families. That goes for all French people. Many people here make a noise like "up" if they mess something up, and apparently kids at the fair nearby scream on the rides in a different manner than in the States.) The neighbors came over for an aperitif (the wine/drinks taken before a meal), we talked with them a little while about hosting a student, Harry Potter, and when their daughters are going to start learning English, and Constance and I played with their two little girls upstairs. I do not think there can be anything cuter than a child speaking French. Maybe I can find a way to bring one back with me to the States.

For dinner we ate lasagna (which my host mom assured me did not look pretty but tasted good) with salad from their garden at the country home. In France, fruit is eaten for dessert (cantalope is not considered a fruit here, so it is eaten with the main plate) along with yogurt and sometimes a tastey gateaux chocolate (chocolate cake). The yogurt is rather sour and each person has to spoon in their own sugar before eating it. At my host house, they do not make big meals on the weekends so my host mom told me just to dig in to the fridge whenever I am hungry. Yes ma'am!

Cards, Classes, and Eye Candy

I've been spending most of my time at home hanging out with my new brother and sister. Constance and I played cards for probably a few hours today and last night (a card game that I think could last us until I leave after this semester). It is very entertaining because not only do we get a little competitive during the game, we also dance a little in our chairs as Polo plays some electro beats. For playing cards in France, it is important to know the word qif-qif (I dont think it is spelled properly, but it sounds like "keef keef") which is what you say when two stacks of cards look about the same thickness. Constance has been beaucoup de fun already. Her playroom/attic is right next to my room and I talk to her while she plays (Sometimes I return home and hear her talking and think she has a friend over, but she just likes to have conversations with the people and horses she plays with). Polo and I listen to music together on the computer and sometimes I watch him dj in the basement (la cave).

I signed up for my classes today, but they are subject to change within the next few weeks. I will take a French grammar class, a translation class (Traduction, French-English), Contemporary French Society, French Classicism: Art and Architecture (I am really excited about this class because I will be studying art and architecture IN FRANCE!), a class called The Palestinian Question from 1945 to today (I am going to see if I like it and then decide whether to keep it or not), and a Geographie class at the University de Nantes (Another girl who is a geography/conservation/development major and I are going to try out a few classes and see which one is the most interesting). I will also attend a Conversation Club each Tuesday which pairs IES students with University students and allows for more french speaking time. The course load seems pretty feasible for me because I will have three classes on Wednesdays and Thursdays, one class on Mondays and Fridays, and only conversation club on Tuesdays. The rest of the time I will be exploring Nantes, visiting museums, eating fresh bread, and of course talking at a cafe. A teacher here told us that the French do not like to work and have two main occupations: la greve (strikes) and cafes. So far, I can not argue the opposite.

Things I've noticed in France:
1. French people walk on the left side of the sidewalk. I never noticed how smoothly things work in the States where everyone knows to move to the right if someone else is on the same sidewalk walking towards you. It is not that big of a problem (Ce n'est pas grave), but it is intersting to wonder why different societies choose simple unwritten rules like that.
2. Sidewalks are streets and streets are sidewalks. My family and everyone on our block park their cars on the sidewalk. They also have to parallel park in tiny spaces and hop a small curb to get to each spot. In le centre-ville, the sidewalk is paved with bricks like the "streets" and everyone walks everywhere. It is easy to see where the sidewalk begins (closest to the wall, although sometimes cars park along the front walls of buildings at night) but in most places it blends in with the street and cars will gladly drive on anything to swerve around people/bikes/other cars.
3. Everyone is really attractive. I am not sure why French genes are so great, but most people here have really nice bone structure and smooth cheeks (Everyone so far seems to be blemish-free and really pretty. My only hypothesis on why is that they pay more attention to the oily status of their face because they are constantly giving welcome and goodbye cheek kisses). I am not complaining though. It makes people-watching twice as enjoyable.

(Cows say "Meuh" in France)

Hands on the table, s'il vous plait

I always thought I was a fast eater. In the States, I finish my whole plate of enchilladas before my mom finishes one taco. In France, I really have to shovel it down to keep up with my family. Although meals at resturants can take up to two hours here (each part of the meal comes out separately), eating with the family is always a race. Tongiht we ate a dish of tomatoes, cucumbers, and cheese (du chevre) and my plate was still half full after everyone else had already sopped up the juice with their bread. Table manners are so different for me here. The french cut their food and eat it without changing which hand their fork is in. Perhaps that is common in the States too, but I literally cannot eat food off my plate with the fork in my left hand. I am practicing every day though, so hopefully I will master the technique soon. The french also eat with their hands on the table. This habit is probably the hardest for me to get used to. I do not know how many times my mom has told me to put my hand in my lap at the dinner table, but it is a very large number. With my host family, I am torn between two feelings of disrespect. When I rest my hands on the table while I eat, my American conscious tells me that I look sloppy or antsy to do something else. But when I catch myself with my hand in my lap, my French conscious makes me feel guilty also! We will see how well this new habit carries over when I return home.

Tonight I learned a new magic trick! Constance cracked open her new Texas cards and showed me the card trick which involves guessing a certain card in the deck after making a few piles. It completely bemused me and took seeing three performances before I finally knew what to do. It is rather mathmatical but allows for some creativity to make the trick believable. Hopefully I will learn more tricks and card games that I can bring back with me in my head rather than my suitcase. My family has Settlers of Catan here and Racko at the country home, so I know family game nights are not far away.

I also found out that my host dad works with the Pope (le pape, John Paul II) and handles the logistics of his travels. I am not too sure of all the details, but one of my family's older sons will take over working with the logistics of the Pope after my host dad steps down. I think he is working with the travel logistics for a world-wide youth Catholic event called Journee Mondiale de la Jeunesse (JMJ). The next JMJ is in August of 2011 in Madrid, Spain. I still need to continue to dig deeper into this subject to learn more about his involvement with the Pope.

--Edit-- I do not think he actually works with the Pope directly, but they are in charge of organizing all the food, housing, transportation, and activities for a few thousand youth who will be going to Madrid next fall. Apparently the largest groups of youth who will attend the JMJ come from the States, France, and Spain.

Another good acronym to know here is SDF. It stands for Sans Domicile Fixe, or a homeless person. I have not seen too many yet, but apparently they get a little more aggressive at night around le centre-ville. Some more good French words to know are carrefour (intersection), trottoir (sidewalk), laid (ugly), couvre-feu (curfew), and poile (hairy).

Strike One

Today was a long day, and this week already feels like a long week. I woke up and felt like I had back-stepped un peu with my French conversation skills. I had to work hard to put my sentences together, and it was a rather important day to know french. Today Nantes had a strike (un greve) so lots of the transportation either stopped running or had limited routes. I took the bus this morning with some other students who live close by and although it was a little late, it took me to the right stop. But because of the strike, the store that sells passes for the bus and tram was closed today, so I have to continue to buy individual tickets until tomorrow. We waited probably 30 minutes for the bus to go home this evening, but it never came (sounds like the work of le greve) so we took a scenic walk back to our homes instead (I had to walk quickly because I did not want to be late for le diner with my family!). While I was still in my IES orientation, apparently there was an hour's worth of people who clogged the streets in le centre-ville. Hopefully I will be able to see them next time there is un greve (which is probably fairly soon).

Today I bought a sim card for my phone (mon portable). It is hard to buy a cell phone in English, so just imagine trying to work everything out in French. I finally activated and charged my phone after two trips to "The Phone House" where I struggled my way through deciding which prepaid plan would be best. My host mom had to help me activate my "recharger" code because the automated voice on the other line would not slow down for questions. Although it was a very stressful ordeal while it was happening, I now have a phone that works and I just have to recharger each month.

I also finally met my host sister tonight. She is tres sympa and fun to talk with. I showed her pictures from a book about San Antonio and she liked seeing Shamu swim with a trainer at Sea World. We watched le match de foot together with my host mom and cheered as France scored two goals to win the game. During the game, some fans threw a smoke bomb onto the field and caused a little chaos. My host mom explained to me that the French are rather unsettled. Rather than support something, they prefer to oppose the other side. One of her sons visited the States during an election time and said that Americans are very patriotic. While Americans like to support their candidate with flags in their front yard, the French do not vote For a candidate but rather Against another.

I think it will be time for dinner soon in the States, so below are some fun meals I have eaten in France.

At the hotel in Vannes: 1.Salad with a fried cheese topper, salmon on a bed of vegetables (des lugumes), mango ice cream over sliced pineapples. 2. Salad with beets, corn, and hearts of palm, sardines, tarte du framboise (raspberry). 3. Thinly sliced ham over cantalope, a meaty white fish on a bed des lugumes, chocolate mousse tarte.

In le centre-ville in Nantes: 1. un crepe with mushrooms, egg, and cheese. 2. un sandwich with avocat and salmon.

Chez Moi: 1. croque-monsieur (toasted sandwich with ham and cheese. A croque-madame is the same plus an egg on top ). 2. eggs over easy with green beans (les haricots verts)

Franglais in Vannes

C'est bizarre how quickly you can become comfortable speaking another language. Before France, I never really had a real conversation in french that was not preplanned or rehearsed. Now I speak with my host family every day, talk to venders and fellow tourists on the street, and can order drinks or ask for directions without worrying about how I sound. With the other IESers, we speak mostly french with to other. Although native french speakers might not always understand what we say at first, we all seem to understand the other students easily. When we take a break from speaking french, we speak Franglais. It is not a conscious language, but it happens when half of the sentence is in french while some words are in English. It is fun to speak Franglais because a question asked in Franglais can be answered in French, English, or Franglais itself.

Thursday, we left for a three day "sejour" and headed for the coast. We rode in a tour bus (le car) from Nantes to Vannes (Bretagne). I was able to fit in an hour and a half of french conversation with some students on the bus. At the beginning of the trip, everyone spoke french with each other. Everyone was friendly but no one was connected with solely one group of friends. By the end of the three days, best friends have been made, secrets have been shared, group photos have been taken, and everyone is finding heir niche in the group. We stayed at Hotel Mercure which is by the port and ten minutes from the centre-ville. Each night after dinner, we went out around the town. In France there are mostly bars open at night, so we went to a bowling/karaoke bar and a sports bar to watch the French soccer match.

Friday we toured Ile aux Moines with a pique-nique on our bicyclettes. All the streets in the port towns, and in France in general, are very narrow and not always paved. The island is pretty small but we saw everything from sandy beaches to forests to croplands (blackberries grow wild all over the countryside and they taste good right off the bush!).

Saturday we visited the remains of la Forteresse de Largoet. It sat on a boggy lawn surrounded by dense forests and a pond. The fortress is empty except for pidgeons (which reminds me of something I learned from hanging out with my host brother's friends: kids "coo" when talking about someone who is a "pidgeon" or someone who for instance might bring extra drinks to a party and give them all away. I have not completely gasped what a pidgeon is yet, but I'm thinking it might be similar to a teacher's pet or someone trying to buy friends perhaps?) and the inside is probably eight floors worth of damp stone. You can see from the ground to the roof because the wood which once separated each floor is gone. We also stopped in Plougoumelen where I ate my first crepes in France! They were simple- egg, ham, and fromage, and for dessert, un crepe du caramal- and both large and fresh.

In Carnac, we took a tour around des Alignements de Kermario. Caranac was built around  three giant fields where hundreds of large rocks (pires) were placed in lines. Like Stonehenge, only on a much bigger scale and in lines instead of a circle, les pires in Carnac were actually more impressive to me than Stonehenge (I have never seen it in person, but I believe it gets more hype than Carnac because it is easier to see the entirety and almost offers more explanation than Carnac). There is probably a mile of rocks perfectly lined up from small to tall boulders. Fourty percent of the pires have fallen and been set back up, but the town does not have enough money to keep the area as preserved as other similar sites so the residents are very careful with the area. I would have liked to visit the site in a helicopter because the view from above really shows the precision of each rock. Our last trip of the day was to Saint Goustan. It was another tres jolie, very touristy port town with beaucoup de cafes and postcard stalls. The french spend  lots of time talking and drinking outside of cafes. A favorite drink here is Orangina (carbonated jus d'orange) and Coca (cola). The only thing I miss about the States so far is the free refills. When you spend over an hour sitting at a cafe, especially after walking all day, it is nice to enjoy more than five sips of a drink, but in France no one comes to the table to top off your soda every few minutes. Even a pitcher (un carafe) of water costs a few euro. At home, the cups are tres petites also, so I guess people in France know of a secret way to stay hydrated.

We took un examen this morning which was difficult because if you lose consentration for a few seconds, you miss part of the question and after that it is all downhill (With English, you can not be paying attention to the speaker but still understand what was said, but it does not work the same for French yet). Before we returned to Nantes, we visited Rochefort en Terre. A sign at the front of the town said it was one of the most beautiful towns in France, and it was true. There are bright flowers everywhere- under the windows, along the streets, scattered around le centre-ville- and everyone had a dog or two with them (the dogs speak french too). What I like about these small towns in France is that they were built into the terrain. Rather than demolishing the landscape to erect a tall city, the houses mold into the rocks and hills and the town's foliage wraps around the buildings.

The last story of le sejour happened this morning at the hotel. Another IES guy and I shared a hotel room with two beds side-by-side and one in the corner. I slept in one of the two touching beds and my roommate slept in the corner bed. This morning I awoke to the sounds of someone cursing loudly in French beside me. This was my thought process: Why did my roommate move into the bed right next to me? Why is he cursing while he sleeps? Why does he have such a good accent? Then the phone rang for our wake-up call and my roommate, who was apparently inbetween me and the phone now, did not pick it up. So I reached over the sleeping lump in the covers for the phone, and to my surprise I saw the face of a young french guy. I was still half asleep though so I layed back in bed, then realized that I did not know the guy laying next to me. When I looked at him for a second while I layed in bed still, his face was a foot and a half from mine, and he opened his eyes and layed with a nonchalent face. I slowly got out of bed trying to make sense of the situation thinking, Am I still in France? Am I in the right room? Why is there a random French guy laying in my bed? What happened last night? I put on my clothes, tapped his foot awake, and asked him who he was and what he was doing in my room (During this whole time, my real roommate was for some reason not in the room). He mumbled and assured me that it was alright before he went back to sleep. It is hard to explain the confused feeling I had during our interaction. I brought my friend from another room over to make sure this was actually happening and we finally convinced the guy that he was not in the right room and that he needed to leave. He walked away very confused but also as if there was no reason why he should not have been able to continue sleeping by me. So that was the first guy I slept with in France.

Day One!

I'm not sure exactly how many hours I've been away from the United States, but everything that happened today is compiled in my head as one day. Right now it is around 1am in Nantes, and I haven't closed my eyes since I left San Antonio yesterday (or today?) at 1pm. After I convinced the baggage checker that my European outlet converter was not a weapon, I had a quick flight to Dallas. The plane was very empty and I talked to my seatmate Melissa for the whole flight. She was in the Air Force in Germany for three years and showed me probably 100 pictures on her iphone of her two dogs. After we parted ways, I trekked around the Dallas Airport and was able to spend some time soaking in all the languages spoken in the international flights area. Up until this point, I had not felt nervous and was surprised that I was not sweating yet. On the plane to Paris, it began to soak in that in only hours I was going to have to rely solely on my french skills. Fortunately, the plane showed two movies (How to Tame a Dragon, and 27 Dresses) and some shows from NBC. Time flew by (don't miss the pun!) very quickly and the meals were not too bad either (chicken and pasta+ salad for dinner, yogurt and croissant for breakfast). I did not talk to my seatmates on this flight because they were asleep most of the time, but the boy next to me fell asleep almost on my shoulder so I feel that we were unspoken friends.

When I arrived at the Paris Airport, I blended in well with the other travellers and only felt nervous as I waited for my baggage to slide across the conveyor belt. There were way too many people huddled around the one-sided belt and I had to work hard not to injure anyone with my 70 pound bag. My first french words spoken in France were <<Ou est la gare?>> which I asked to one of the many guards armed stalking around with automatic weapons. I found the train station but did not find the girls I was supposed to meet, so I sat and people-watched while I waited. The train was very comfortable- there were no baggage-busting gypsies that I encountered- and I became incredibly tired as I sat in the warm seats. I think I was a little delusional during this time because I could have sworn that a girl a few seats away was making noises that sounded exactly like an upset baby.

All the IESers met up at the station, took a taxi to the office, and waited nervously for our host family to come pick us up. One by one, a nice french-looking mother would walk in and the chosen students' face would quickly change from excited-nervousness to "this is it, I hope I don't screw up." My host mother and brother picked me up and took me to my new home. It's small and rather old, compared to American houses for sure, but I was invited in as a member of the family (I was told not to ask "Est-ce que je peux..." for things I want and to dig into the fridge whenever I want). We held a pretty good conversation from the time I got in the car to when we sat down for dinner. Opposed to Americans, the french eat big lunches in the afternoon and usually have small dinners. Also, it is not common for French men to cook for their families, so my host mother was surprised to know that my dad prepares most of our meals each night. I told her I like to bake a little and one day I will make the family a dessert and maybe even a whole meal. Tonight we ate a quiche, salad, a baguette, et du fromage. The family notices that I put my bread on my plate and that I set my cup down on the right side of the plate. In France, the bread sits on the table itself and the cup goes above the plate in the middle. After dinner I said "je suis plein" thinking to myself "I am full," but my host mother informed me that je ne suis pa plein because that would mean that I was pregnant. I cannot wait for more exciting vocabulary gaffes! We talked about the differences in foods in France versus America for a while and I can say I am proud of a few of our snacks which the French lack (peanutbutter, chocolate chip cookies, french toast). Also to clear things up, most foods in the United States that claim "French" in their name do not have a connection with France.

My room is nice, complete with a bed, chair, desk, drawers, shelves, sink, and lights.

Polo asked me "tu veux sortir avec mes amis ce soir" and so of course I said "bien sur, je ne suis pas trop fatigue." I rode on the back of his motocyclette and we hung out with his friends a few blocks away on a grassy hill by the river. From my brief observations so far, every teenager in France smokes and it is seen as completely normal. I did not understand everything they said, but I was able to talk a little with them some after they slowed down their speech a little. My favorite word here so far is "quoi?" and I use it beaucoup.

I almost feel like I am already settled into the house. I feel comfortable with the family and have seen that people in France are not very different from Americans, they just speak a different language. People are very eager to understand each other here, and they do not take offense or laugh at mistakes if you are trying to communicate with them. Tomorrow I will go to Vannes for three days for IES orientation. We were told to bring everything from a swim suit to a raincoat to a warm jacket so I do not even know what adventure lies ahead!