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!