Trip to Rouen and Overall Update

The gas stations here are hilarious. From the outside, they look completely american. You could be in Detroit, not Normandy. But inside the stores, they sell expensive cheese and baguettes and apple tarts and bags of sweet belgian waffles. It made me laugh. I encountered a gas station yesterday because we spent the entire day in Rouen, and driving was involved in getting there. After seeing Rouen, I can kind of understand why the French kids say Flers is boring and unattractive. It was beautiful. Cobblestone streets and old fashioned French appartements where the wood structuring of each building was painted a different color. Rouen is the town in which Joan of Arc was convicted and burned, so we visited the site of her burning and the church next to it. There was amazing stain glass inside the church. Breath-taking. We also saw, but didn't go inside, a giant cathedral, that was so detailed it was hard to fathom creating it. I am not religious, but I have to admire how religion has inspired some of the most incredible art in the world. Then again, it also inspired burning a girl for heresy who just freed a town from the English for the government that burned her and the crusades, so I don't know.

We got to Rouen at about 11:30 and looked for a place for lunch after marveling at the scenery a bit. We settled on a tiny little restaurant on a tiny little ally. Lunch was delicious: an appetizer of salad and cheese (I just had salad) and a main meal of some kind of beef stew (specific to Normandy) and pasta. For desert, tart tatin. Completely delicious, and my first real experience of eating out in France. After lunch, Alice and I went and browsed some shops for an hour, but didn't buy anything. Then it was time to see an impressionist painting exhibit at the museum. Apparently, Rouen was a favorite painting site for many impressionists, including Monet, Gaugin, and Pissaro. I love painting exhibits, and the art was beautiful, but the whole world decided to visit on the same day and it was difficult to get around. After a while, it became too much, and Alice and I returned to the streets for shopping. We looked at many different stores, and the clothes were all very nice and chic, even more so than Flers. They were also expensive. Really expensive. I know it's french, and everything, but I couldn't bring myself to spend 200 euros on a sweater. I finally bought just a simple striped t-shirt at one of the lesser expensive stores. I needed some stripes because everyone wears stripes here and I had none. In the USA, I like to be original, but here I'm doing everything to fit in. We got back home at 9:30ish and I had a quick dinner and went to sleep. Great day, but long day.

Last week, I said that it felt much longer than a week. Well, if last week felt like a month, this week only felt like a couple of days. Maybe that means things are getting easier? I hope so. Or maybe it is because I actually had less school. My history teacher was absent monday, and in France there are no substitute teachers. This is much more practical than in the USA because we never actually get anything done with subs. And, it allowed me to go into town and buy a pastry with some friends, which was nice. It was also my birthday (finally finally FINALLY sixteen!) so I was in a good mood. Then thursday, there was the strike. Again. In the morning I participated in a protest with all the other high schoolers (second protest of the month--they do love their protests here), which was fun and interesting, but I'm not sure how I feel about the issue. There are protests all over France because you have to wait until 62 to get welfare rather than 60. I don't want to get on anyone's political bad side, but they have it really good in France. Great benefits and lots of vacation time. Two years of more work sucks, yes, but is it really something to get thaaaat worked up about? Anyway, I eventually went home to eat lunch. Alice told me that only the Math teacher was there, so my first and only class of the day was at 5:00 PM. There was some kind of confusion, though, because when I showed up to math class I was the only student. It was horrible. Once the teacher saw me, there was no escaping, and I was caught doing math problems in an almost empty room with Madame Hauttement hovering behind me for an hour. Horrible.

But yeah, less school. The school that I did have was still hard, but maybe not quite as much. It is getting easier to distinguish words when people talk fast, which means a bit easier to take notes in class. I find that I can usually participate in class and follow along if I really really try to pay attention. It is hard to stay motivated to pay attention, though. It is so easy to just check out and let your mind wander. I have to focus really hard on eliminating that reflex. Another thing that is hard is that sometimes I have no idea what is written on the board. In the odd chance that my teacher writes something rather than just speaking, they shorten words and use a notation that everyone knows except me. And some of their letters and numbers are written differently enough that I don't know what they are. But, one day this week I was actually able to take a few notes in SES. That was an incredible accomplishment. We had a test in SES friday, and I will be surprised if I passed, but I did manage to answer some questions. I think it must mean my language skills are improving. Sometimes I catch myself thinking in french, and when talking to my mom last week I answered "ouais" instead of "yeah" once by accident. I chose to take that as a sign that fluency will eventually get here. Oh and I forgot to mention that I am taking art at school. So far it is boring and we don't do much. I'm sticking with it, though, and holding out hope that it will improve. There are a lot of things you can teach yourself with practice, but there is a limit and eventually you want some pointers.

Socially, I'd say things are still improving. But remember Cady from Mean Girls? On her first day of school, Janis and Damien got her to skip class with them and she said something like "I know it's wrong to skip class, but Janis said we were friends. And I was in no position to pass up friends." A lot of times I feel like that. Sometimes I have to choose between listening to the teacher and shutting up or continuing my conversation with the person next to me, and I choose to continue the conversation because I'm scared of losing that chance to make friends. Like if I shut up, they will lose interest. Which is probably not true. But I'm desperate. People are really nice, though, and I have been getting better at finding ways to say things. Like even if I don't know the right vocabulary, I am sometimes able to find ways around it. There are still lots of times when I have something to say but I can't and that is so frustrating because it means that I can't really show my personality. People are nice, but they don't really know me yet.

Speaking of frustrating, the most frustrating thing in the whole wide world is when people talk about you like you aren't there. It is like being five years old again. "Does she like school?" "Yes, she is very happy there." I can always, always tell when someone is talking about me even if I can't understand every word they say. It is so easy to tell. And it drives me crazy.

Now time for some more observations. The supermarket here is a lot like any old american supermarket, except with more environmentally friendly foods. Kids here love rap and sometimes ask me to translate Eminem for them. If anyone has good enough french to translate Eminem, please let me know. Karate is different, less of an art and more actual fighting (It still feels weird to have no friends and be the last one without a partner. I miss my karate buddies!). There is a cheese bar in the school cafeteria, and every day there is an appetizer, main dish, and desert. Lastly, they never ever wear berets. Ever.

Miss you all tons! And now, pictures! Would post more but they take for-freakin-ever to upload.

                                           Rouen

                                           My host nieces and nephews

                                           My house

                                                     Rouen again.

Things are Looking Up

By the time this year is over, I will have lost five years of my life just by breathing. You know that stereotype that all French people smoke? Well it is 100% true. Okay, 99.9%, because Alice doesn't. But she is the only one. I don't know why I didn't mention this in my last blog; talk about something different from California. Maybe because I am already used to being constantly surrounded in a cloud of smoke. There are two fifteen minute breaks in the school day aside from lunch, during which everyone heads to the front of the school to puff on one or two cigarettes. The teachers say nothing. In fact sometimes they join in. Weird.

Other than smoking, I have noticed some more differences between French and American cultures. Some of them are the bigger differences I talked about last time. As I mentioned before, everyone is very stylish and always looks good. But it is common to find someone wearing the same thing two or sometimes even three days in a row. Especially with teachers. This suggests to me that while there is cultural emphasis on looking good, that doesn't necessarily mean owning the entire mall. Quantity doesn't equal quality. In America, more is better. There is emphasis on having lots of stuff and never ever repeating an outfit. Personally I like the French way better. The French are also more politically active and aware than Americans. There was a teacher's strike the first day of school and on the second day I went to a protest march about welfare. It is not unusual to find the TV on with the news at all times. They are also into history. I have heard many fascinating tales about how Flers (the town I go to school in) was flattened during the war and then rebuilt afterwords. Everyone knows the story.

Then there are more of the little differences. At school, everyone has a pencil case with blue, green, red and black pens; white out; highlighters; glue and scissors. They all take notes in the same way, always writing in script. They right some of their letters and numbers differently which is incredibly confusing. Lunch is the main meal of the day and breakfast is almost ignored. They like RARE meat here. I have to be careful asking for the way I want it cooked. I asked for rare, and could almost hear the cow mooing as I took my first bite. Desert is popular here. There is chocolate on everything. The stereotype about the French loving crepes and eating them all the time is also true; one day during one of those fifteen minute breaks, a boy reached into his pocket and pulled out two crepes that he then started to eat. It was funny. The food in general is delicious, but not exactly what the women on TV would recommend to lose 10 pounds a month. I don't know how they stay so thin. Oh, that's another thing. Everyone is slender.

So, another (really) long week survived. It was long, very very long, but not actually bad. It has gotten a lot easier socially. There are still a lot of times where I miss having friends to talk and laugh with, but I feel like I'm on the way to making some new ones. I was worried, based on the initial reactions of people, that they were very cliquey and not into accepting newcomers. I was luckily wrong. It seems to me that the French are just not as outgoing at first; not as likely to come up to you and immediately act like your best friend. But everyone is actually really really friendly. They call me Brenda, because apparently it is a stereotypical name for blond Americans. The kind that wear pink and have little dogs. Academically, it is still hard. No strike this week, just full on school. I feel like I'm drowning in SES (sciences economique et sociale), and French is no picnic either. A few classes are getting easier to understand, but not easier to do. For history, I have to focus incredibly hard on listening to understand the instructions, and then on top of that it is the type of class where native speakers have to think. So it's interesting, but very draining, and I can't let my mind wander for a second. I love math. Math is my relief class, my chance to take a deep breath and just crunch some numbers. Numbers are numbers are numbers, no confusion there.

Wenesday was an exciting day for me because I went shopping in Flers for the first time. I didn't bring my camera, though, which is a shame. My classmates say Flers is boring, but I find it beautiful. I, too, enjoy the excitement and glamor of a big city, but living in Normandy is a nice break from the chaos. The buildings are all made of brick and stone. The streets are crooked and uneven, in a charming way. The little shops are expensive, but very chic and very French. It is definitely possible to find clothes like that in Berkely, but not as common. There are a lot of tacky stores in Berkeley as well as some stylish ones. There isn't much to find by way of tacky in France, although you can find it if you really really look for it.

I really like my family. I miss my real family back home, and I don't quite feel like a member of the family yet, but they are so nice and supportive. It is great having someone my age in my classes. We can do our homework together and talk about travel. It's fun. There are sometimes where I want to talk to her but I don't know what to say exactly. But hopefully it will get easier. My host parents are very supportive, and try hard to teach me French, which I appreciate. The host-nieces and nephews are still adorable. I think I got a lucky house placement.

This experience has been a roller coaster. There were a lot of ups this week, but some downs as well. There are moments where it all gets to me and I am close to tears. It isn't as bad as it could be, though, because I knew there were going to be ups and downs. I am terrified, however, of receiving my first batch of grades. I know that is probably going to be a "down" moment.

I don't have time to post pictures now, but I will later this weekend, I promise.

Au revoir!

Paris, School, and Baguette with Every Meal

Salut mes amis! Welcome, bienvenue, to my very first ever blog post! Let me start from the beginning.

In the beginning God created the heavens and...

Just kidding.

My adventure started in New York. After flying all night long, and getting approximately 1.5 hours of sleep, Asher (another AFSer from Berkeley) and I waited for everyone else to arrive at our hotel for pre-departure orientation. At first, people trickled in slowly, and then around 3 or 4 PM, there was an explosion of incomming students. It was easier than it ever has been for me to make friends, because everyone was in the same position. Everyone was alone and excited and scared. Everyone was looking for allies. The excitement grew over the next two days, and finally, it was time to get on the next plane.

Except for a short tour of Paris, where we saw the Eiffel Tower and other famous sites (Paris is such a cool city, I would love to live there some day), we were trapped inside a hostel for three days. But it still felt like an exploration, because now there were people from all over the world to meet and talk with. New Zealand, Australia, Poland, Czech Republic, Germany, Austria, Switzerland, Hungary, and Belgium. I love Australians! They are hilarious. The Germans are pretty funny too. We spent most of those two days in Paris playing card games when we weren't in orientation, which may sound boring, but it was fun. It was difficult to say goodbye on the last night, because who knows when I'll see those people next? I wanted to savor the feeling of having friends. And it's a good thing I did, because friends are hard to make when you can't really talk to them.

At five AM Sunday morning, the kids headed to Normandy woke up and boarded a bus for the train station. We stopped at another hostel to pick up kids from other parts of the world. There were only 9 of us for Normandy. The train ride was long and bumpy, but we were all getting psyched up for the year, and enjoying the French countryside. We got to the station in Lison, struggled to get our huge bags onto the platform, and turned to see a crowd of people walking toward us. At last, we were meeting the people who would become our families for the next year. We spent the rest of the day at one host family's house for a picnic and swimming. Françoise, my host mother, is very nice and speaks slowly enough for me to understand. Jacques, my host father, doesn't say much but when he does the others laugh, so he must be funny. Alice is my host sister, and when she talks to me she is nice, but she doesn't talk to me very much.

Monday was really my first day in France. It was the first day of school. Alice and I got to school and 8 AM, and she went to English class while I got registered. The next three classes were canceled because of a teacher's strike, so the students had nothing to do but wait. I followed Alice outside to the front of the school, and was introduced to her friends. In the US, when there is a new student, especially foreign, everyone crowds them and asks them questions and wants to know them. It was SO not like that. I was expecting, maybe even hoping for, a lot of attention, but no. Those French kids put me in my place. No one talked to me for hours; I just sat there in silence. Then, after lunch, someone finally noticed me! A kid named Baptiste decided to start talking to me, and afterwords others did as well. I also met a Finnish girl who is an exchange student with another program, and who understands the way I feel. I felt much better talking to her. It's gotten a bit better since the first day, but I'm still left in silence a lot of the time. It's frustrating, because I'll think of a great convorsation starter, and then not be able to say it in French. It feels like I have so much to say and so much to ask, and it's on the tip of my toungue, but it's being forced back down my throat.

School itself is incredibly confusing. The schedule is ridiculous. I start and stop at a different time everyday, and not everyone starts or finishes together. There are different classes every day. Altogether, I'm think I'm taking 10 subjects, but I'm not actually sure. The teachers change classrooms every period as well, so on monday math is in one room and on thursday it's in a different room. And there is the fact that all my classes are in French. I actually understand Math, Life and Earth Science, History/Geography, and P.E. And I'm a superstar in English. But The Economics/Social Sciences teacher talks a million words per minute. I'm lucky if I catch one word every now and then. Maybe, by next month, I'll have good enough french to understand a whole sentence! French class is also really difficult. And so is Spanish, because it's the third year for all the students and I have never studied spanish before. It's enough work learning French, I don't need another language to confuse me.

Alice has four older siblings and two of them have kids, so I have four little host nieces and nephews. They are adorable, and I am not self conscious to practice my French with them. And they, at least, find me interesting, if none of my classmates do.

It is very different from California, but then again, not that different. There is baguette with every meal. They do kiss on both cheecks to say hello. (It still feels weird to me. If there is a group of ten or fifteen friends and a new person comes, they will go all the way around the circle, kissing everyone. Sometimes, people will kiss you on both cheecks and then walk away, without saying a word. Boys kiss girls but not each other, they mostly just shake hands.) It is true that everyone is very chic here. They don't dress that differently from US teenagers (fewer bright colors, though), but absolutely everyone is well dressed. In the US, many people will look good, but a lot of people pay no attention to their appearance. Not so in France. Everyone has a pencil case in class and takes notes in exactly the same way. Other things are different as well. But these are all little differences.The bigger differences, the ones that matter, are harder to detect. There are things that feel different, but that I can not put my finger on exactly. It has only been a week. I will continue to observe, and see if I can figure it out.

There are differences, yes, but people are people. I am learning that human nature seeps through, even when it is covered by cultural differences. Teenagers are teenagers. Boys are just as immature and goofy as in America, girls like to gossip and discuss things just as much. We all share the same basic senses and feelings. It is interesting to see how similar the interactions are between kids at school here and in the US. It makes me think of my friends. And then I start to miss them, because in California, I can participate in the interactions.

I'm going to do karate and dance while I'm here. Yesterday was my first karate class. I'm used to knowing everyone at karate and feeling completely comfortable, so it was strange being the newcomer. It's more intense at this dojo, but many techniques are the same. Yesterday, it was all hard style, no aikido or anything. And it was more violent than Cuong Nhu. I worked with three different black belts, and it was very satisfying when they realized I knew what I was doing.

It is beautiful here; everything is so green. There are cows outside my window! That's different. It is more peaceful, more calm.

It's exhausting listening in French all day and trying to understand, so I'm going to go rest. Miss you all. Sorry this post was so long, Probably the others will be shorter. A Bientot!

P.S.
If there is anything specifically that you want me to talk about in these posts, tell me and I will incorperate it if I can.

P.P.S.
If  I can figure out how to connect my laptop to the internet, I will post pictures next time.