April 4, 2009 BLOG

Hello world. I hope the past week has been spectacular for you all!

As for me, I am remarkably glad that this week is over...not because anything traumatic or bad happened, but simply because I’m so darn exhausted! Classes are so much harder when taught exclusively in a foreign language. I’ve always been one to listen to what’s going on in the background while doodling or something, but that just doesn’t work here. Since the language being used is relatively technical, I actually have to pay attention let I get lost in the shuffle of words I only know in context. Simply living life is difficult too. Easy tasks like...buying grapefruit, or a blueberry muffin for instance, become infinitely harder when you realize you have no idea what the word for blueberry is in French. *sigh* All in all, however, it was a good week.

The last I wrote was Thursday I think, so I’ll start with Friday.

Nothing particularly interesting happened during the day on Friday, other than class (not that that’s particularly interesting). In History, I’m not entirely what we talked about (as usual), but Literature was a pretty good. We discussed the origins of Marseille (it’s 2650 years old) and the Greek-esque myth that goes along with its foundation. Our discussion on Marseille was a lead-up to a discussion on Alexandre Dumas (author of The Count of Monte Cristo, The Three Musketeers, etc).

An interesting sidenote: Friday in Literature class, we truly felt the effects of the University strike. I may not have mentioned this, but the University is currently on strike. The French president is trying to make educational “reforms” which totally suck, and as a result, many French institutions of higher learning have been on strike for the last two months. As International students, we haven’t been much affected by the strike. However, on Friday, Literature started nearly a half an hour late because our room was in “shambles.” First, we could not get into the room because it was locked. Then, we couldn’t find anyone that had a key. When we finally got in, all the desks and chairs were in a pile in the center of the room. Then there was no chalk. Basically, fail.

Friday night the OU students had a rendez-vous with our French correspondents. The correspondent program is incredibly poorly organized (as I’ve found many things about the Avignon program), so I had no idea if my correspondent would show up. It turned up that Soufiane did end up coming with a few friends, about an hour or so. No matter, at least he came. He turned out to be really nice, and we spoke for like an hour (entirely in French! Go me!) It was a really enjoyable evening. Most of the OU students were there (at the Red Sky pub), and even if our correspondents weren’t there, we had fun together. Before Soufiane arrived, I had a really good time chatting with other students’ correspondents. Interestingly enough, a lot of them said that I have a somewhat Canadian accent. I say “zut” to that...and I blame my numerous French Canadian professors. By the end of the program, it will be interesting to see what kind of strange accent I have...American + Canadian + Southern French + Belgian = something only I could vocalize. *le souffle* (or, in Frenglish, *le sigh*).

About five and a half hours after returning to my house with Shawna, we had to get up again (funny sidenote for all you French-speakers: I just accidentally typed “retourning”. Wow. French is getting to me.) Our Swedish housemate, Jonathan, had invited us both to come with him to Montpelier this Saturday. He is a part of an International Exchange program, and they do various activities throughout the semester. Since OU is so disparate from the rest of the international student program at l’Université d’Avignon (je sais pas pourquoi), we had no idea that an International Exchange program even existed. Thanks to Jonathan, however, Shawna and I got to go to Montpelier for only 10 euros Saturday. We left the university at about 8:30 in the morning, and arrived just outside of Montpelier at around 10, where we went to a zoo. Shawna and I considered it a little lesson in all the animal vocabulary we had learned in high school, but forgotten (God, I just typed “lecon.” FMV/L.) It really was pleasant. Plus, it was GORGEOUS on Saturday in Montpelier (which is right next to the Mediterranean Sea).

After re-learning the French words for monkeys, horses, donkeys, ducks, lions, bears, and other random animals, we got back on the bus to head to the beach, our lunch destination. We had brought a picnic lunch, and we got to eat our peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and fruit on the shore of the Mediterranean Sea (jealousy ensues now). The next few hours were spent looking for sea shells (I still don’t know this word in French), skipping rocks (yes Mama, that was for you), making mini sand castles, and lounging on the sand. Sandy and warm, we got back on the bus to travel into the city.



The Mediterranean Sea!



Most unfortunately, Jonathan had managed to fall at some point while leaving the beach, and by the time we got to Centre Ville in Montpelier, he could no longer move his elbow. He and his friend Utah (yes, that’s his name...he’s Japanese) split off from Shawna and I to go to the doctor. Meanwhile, Shawna and I wandered around the city. On the main street, there was absolutely incredible shopping. It really is miraculous that I didn’t spend a giant amount of money. Shawna and I found an amazing boutique called “Des Filles à la Vanille” (Vanilla Girls), and we completely fell in love. It was the most overwhelmingly adorable shop I’ve ever been in. If I could redo my entire wardrobe simply from that store, I probably would. Unfortunately, that wasn’t the case, so Shawna and I just savored the fashion (we actually went in twice, just because we wanted to look around again). We got ourselves a little lost at one point, but we found ourselves thanks to the loud sounds of a live concert going on in Place de la Comédie. Although beautiful, it was an overwhelmingly bustling city. Everywhere we looked, there was a boutique, or a store, or a street performer, etc. People had completely taken over the main street, and seeing a car actually silly enough to attempt to permeate the pedestrian traffic was quite rare. To get away from the people, Shawna and I bought some really yummy gelato (Mint Chocolate Chip for me, Cookie Dough for Shawna), some pain au chocolate (basically, chocolate bread), and a blueberry muffin, and took some repose in a lovely park just outside the arch that led to Centre Ville.

The park was, in a word, surreal. I simply couldn’t believe that something that lovely really existed. It was by no means empty, but not busy. There were four long rows of perfectly trimmed trees, blooming tulips and other perennials, a huge statue of a man on a horse (I do not recall said man’s name), and three beautiful landscape views of the surrounding city. The park was populated by several groups quietly playing acoustic guitar, street performers practicing their juggling, couples cuddling on benches, friends chatting, little dogs chasing each other around, and quiet groups of townspeople strolling through. Really, I didn’t know that places like that actually existed. It didn’t have at all a touristy air, and it was just a very pleasant place to sit and eat some ice cream and take advantage of the warm Mediterranean sun.



Montpelier.

The group regathered at around 7, and poor Jonathan arrived with a sling and a cast. In his fall, he had fractured a bone in his upper arm (poor thing!). I didn’t exactly catch why, but the bus was apparently at a different location than where we gathered. We ended up walking back through Centre Ville (for like the third time) and to the other side of town where the bus was waiting for us. We arrived back in Avignon around 9, completely exhausted. The walk from the university to our house (about a 25-30 minute walk) seemed SO long, but Jonathan, Shawna, and I all agreed that it was a very very fun day.

Again, another sidenote. Prostitution in Avignon. I might have mentioned this (or maybe not), but I live in a somewhat shady section of Avignon. I mean, it’s not like I hear gunshots outside my window and fear for my life every time I go outside, but it is a neighborhood outside of the city walls, therefore slightly less safe. Avignon is a walled city, ça veut dire, the entire Centre Ville is enclosed by large ramparts with large arching entryways. When the ramparts were built, it was a method of protection (as they were constructed before canons were readily used in combat). Today, the walls really serve no purpose, other than to distinguish between the “Interior” and the “Exterior” sections of the city. Just outside of the walls are lots of little parking lots. Keep in mind that these are not American parking lots...American parking lots are relatively orderly. French parking lots, apparently, are not. Each morning on our way to school, Shawna and I have to walk through lots and lots and lots of these somewhat unsightly parking lots. It’s kind of a terrifying experience (I think I may have mentioned previously my fear of French drivers. This fear is exemplified in French parking lots. Again *le sigh*.) Anyhow, prostitution in Avignon. Each night, and even more on weekend nights, a small brigade of white vans appear. To an unobservant passerby, this might not look like anything at all. My British friend Emma, upon arriving in Avignon, had wondered “why are there so many people that camp in the parking lots?” These are not campers. These are, in effect, prostitution camps. Yes, Avignon has its own little red light district. As much as this is kind of creepy to have to walk by/through (depending on the side of the street), it is also incredibly sad. Shawna told me that the other night she saw one of the vans whose curtians were not drawn (aka: not occupied). She saw a young woman sitting there, and she said her heart completely dropped. It really is awful...I’m sure these young woman do not want to be in this position. It’s defiling and debasing, and they know it.

Well...I know that prostitution in Avignon is a slightly awkward place to leave off, but I don’t have anything else to say as of now. Again, I hope you are all enjoying your weekend as much as I am! Bisous.