Bonjour boissons, baguettes et beaute

             So I realize that my previous post was rather one long complaint and thought I should make a supplementary one with all the things I really like about being here. Firstly, I went out for drinks with some French kids the other day!! Cool me would try to pretend that I wasn’t extremely excited, but I was—and was extremely nervous, too. This girl, Elodie, was one of the people who met us at the train station and she invited Christian (another American kid from Maine) to go out with her and her friends and he told me I could go, which of course I instantly agreed to. I ended up way over-dressing in my nervousness, but had a lovely evening in Franglais and everyone I met was really sweet and inclusive. Last night France was in the handball world championship (go figure) so they were airing the game in bars and everyone was shocked when I asked what sport it was…oops. But I got to try a very French drink (the name of which I still don’t know) but it’s a mix of a light beer and a flavored syrup. I was initially skeptical, but it tastes exactly like a Shirley Temple (which I looove)—the French are not shy with their syrup.

            They play American music well, everywhere. And only the 95xxx kind of American pop. The French girls, despite their limited English, knew all of the words and unabashedly sang them loudly in the bar. Interestingly, too, it’s common to go to the bar and order an alcohol-free cocktail which a number of the girls were drinking and, I think, shows a level of self-restraint that Americans tend to lack. But it worked in my favor as Elodie graciously drove us back to campus so I didn’t have to take the bus. Anyway, I hope I get to hang out with them again because they were really great.

I hate to make a list of things I like, but it seems to be the simplest way to go about it.

1.      

      1. I love my tiny little room. It’s the perfect size and I can completely trash it without having to answer to anyone.

2.      2. The architecture. Its unbelievably pretty. The fact that right in downtown, amongst shops and restaurants you can stumble upon a gothic cathedral and then, ten minutes later, a massive chateau is incredible. I keep sounding like an idiot when I turn a corner and loudly say “OOOH!” but I can’t help it. We just don’t have a lot of that at home.

3.      3. The students are incredibly friendly and gracious. Even in passing everyone always says “Bonjour” or, beginning promptly at 5 pm, “Bonsoir!” and, in our shared kitchens, when they leave they’ll say goodbye or “bon appétit!” It’s so chummy.

4.     4.  The cheek kisses. It’s incredibly welcoming. There was probably a group of almost 20 of us last night and whenever a new person arrived they would go around the entire group and kiss everyone’s cheeks. It completely alleviated my constant worry about whether or not to shake peoples hands.

5.      5. All of the buildings in Angers are made of this whiteish beigeish stone which is gorgeous and makes the city look so filled with light when it’s sunny.

6.      6. The grass is green. And there are flowers. In January. Yessssss

7.      7. You can park anywhere. Not that I’m driving but I think it’s hilarious. Sidewalks = perfectly acceptable places to park your vehicle. If there’s a tree, park next to it. If theres a curb, drive over it. Cars appear in the most arbitrary little nooks of the city.

8.      8. There are a couple really old little cobblestoned streets which are adorable and completely eliminate all city noise. You feel like you’ve gone back in time.

9.      9. The bread is awesome. The crepes are awesome. The cheese is awesome.

1    10.  Unlike Burlington, the city buses are not filled with creepy people. They are clean and new and pleasant and young kids take them home from school.

That is all that comes to mind right now, but there are many more things I could say. For now, however, I will go and enjoy my lazy Sunday.

Tiring Travel on Trains

Sorry, there are no pictures because this internet is terrible and hates me.

This is the first time I’ve had internet in what feels like 73 days. And I’m in the library. The process for acquiring internet access in your room, it seems, is an Odyssey. You’d think the French system would be technologically advanced, however, it requires meeting with seven different people, taking the bus to various locations downtown, paying about 400 euros and negotiating the completely baffling Universite of Angers webpages to gain access to internet in your room. Not even wireless, just internet. Anyway, I will attempt to recap all that has happened in the last few days during which I’ve been perpetually tired and overwhelmed. My travels were actually quite a success (thank God) and I had plenty of time to entertain myself with witty musings about my adventure…I will copy here what I wrote on my voyage from Burlington to Angers though I must warn you its nearly all petty complaints…

I held it together saying goodbye to Gabe and my parents, Anya and Elena—held it together waiting in BVT and getting on the plan and waiting ( the flight was delayed for half an hour on the runway) but the second we left the ground and I saw Burlington—my Burlington— disappearing beneath me, I lost it. I called it myself—slobbering mess. As most of you readers know, I am not an elegant crier. No single tear dripping silently down this girls cheek. I was gasping and snorting and shaking. The picture of class and poise, I assure you. Anyway, after crying my way halfway to DC, I collected myself by making faces at the cutest little Middle Eastern baby in a fuzzy pink onesie. I can’t believe fuzzy pink onesies ever went out of style. Imagine how much better overnight lights would be if it were required that you wear a onesie. 1. No belts to take off at security 2. No metal pieces 3. Honestly, where would you hide anything for the government to be suspicious of in a onesie? 4. When you’re wholly uncomfortable on the plane there wouldn’t be jeans cutting into your love handles or layers of shirts getting awkwardly bunched as you fidget. Instead you’d be lounging in soft fleece. Sounds perfect.

They warned us before we got off the plane in DC that it was “cold” outside. Haha. Yeah right. IT’s gotta be at least 45 and sunny. I’ve been outside naked in colder weather…

Also, if you intend to travel soon I now recommend cutting your hair or wearing it in a samurai-knot on top of your head. The obscene amount of static electricity around my head aside, I’m sitting back-to-back with a large man in the Dulles air port and my hair is trapped between his oversized back and the back of his chair—ow.

About 1 hour into my 6.5 hour flight to Paris, a perky blonde stewardess named Cheryl dropped a half-full water bottle on me—drenching my arm and pants. Showing little remorse, Cheryl handed me an extra blanket and asked if I’d like any water. I replied dryly (despite the excess of moisture now making its way to my butt) that I had plenty, thank you very much. A cat nap, some crappy pasta, and two mediocre films later I touched down in Paris with a wet ass, dry throat and smudged mascara. The answer is yes, if you even needed to ask, I looked awesome.

I passed the most boring and uncomfortable three hours of my life in the Charles de Gaulle train station wishing I could sleep and complaining to Marielly (I met her on the plane and we discovered that we were in the same program). Finally we were off on my first TGV trip. I was woefully tired by this point and fell asleep almost immediately on the train and then woke up and panicked that I’d missed my stop and had slept for hours. I think I probably slept for ten minutes. I tried to ask the woman sitting next to me how long it would be until we got to Angers and if she were getting off there  (hoping that she might wake me up in the very likely event that I passed out again). Unfortunately, I was so tired and distressed that I think all I said to her was “You going Angers? I sleep.” Or something equally stupid. She looked sarcastic and disgusted, if that’s possible, and just turned around. Being afraid to try my idiotic questions again, I promptly fell asleep. When I woke up she had switched seats—meany. Luckily some very nice bald guy told me we had two stops to go and it would be about an hour. Thank you, bald guy. I arrived successfully and was escorted by bus to the campus.

Unfortunately, the school is a commuter campus so no one really lives here and the downtown is about 20 mins away by bus. Also unfortunately the buses stop running at midnight I think and there is no way to get back to campus unless you’d like to pay 20 € for a taxi, which I would not like to do. But, I met some nice Irish kids the other day who have been here since September and seemed to have figured out a way to make it work so hopefully I can tag along with them sometime. Since Friday there’s been so much crap we’ve had to do. Seeing this person, getting this form, seeing these twelve other people and signing their forms and paying them fees and getting extra identification photos and returning to those people and stupid junk like that so I am still very tired, and not at all well-fed. When a French school says they have a university Restaurant for our use, they mean that there is a mediocre cafeteria at which we can eat lunch Monday-Friday. Other than that we are expected to buy groceries and make our own food in the small kitchens in each residence hall. Oh yeah and there’s no oven. Oh yeah and you have to buy utensils and cook-wear if you want to make anything. Oh yeah and the grocery store is a 15 minute walk away. Oh yeah and if you want a bag you have to buy one. Oh yeah and everything is closed on Sunday. D’accord? Thank God for 0.28 € baguettes and 1.89 € bottles of wine.

In better news, the downtown area is gorgeous. We wandered a little on Saturday. It looks like this:

And then you turn a corner and voila!

This is the Cathedrale St. Maurice and it is spectacular. I would actually enjoy going to mass there because the architecture is unbelievable, the art is exquisite and there’s an organ that takes up an entire wall. Its freezing inside, but it’s easy to forget that you’re cold when every sound echoes and reverberates off of the sky-high ceilings. I love the instant peace you feel in a place like that, perhaps that’s why some people love church. You are simply awed into serenity.

When you leave the cathedrale, bam! gorgeous walkway that ends in a pretty fountain overlooking the lovely Maine River.

This river divides the city in two and has a marvelous combination of old stone bridges and new wirey metal ones connecting its banks. I went to my first pub last night with a couple other American exchange students and ordered a beer and a quiche Lorraine, which was quite good. I have yet to go out to a real restaurant because our stupid errands keep taking us into town and back to campus and into town again and its all very exhausting, but I plan to sit down and eat by the end of the week. One of the American girls is planning to stay a non-drinking vegetarian and not spend much money on food while she’s here. Good luck, sweetheart that sounds miserable.

All the exchange students had to take language placement exams today. I enjoyed hearing the same “Well, it’s been nice knowing ya” and “this sucks” and “I’m too tired for this” comments coming from American kids, Dutch kids, British kids, Mexican kids and whoever else was in the room. The test made us write a number of pointless essays with prompts such as “So-and-so has invited you to a barbeque and said you are welcome to camp at their house If you’d like, please write a 80 word essay declining their invitation and provide an explanation for your negative response.” I said something along the lines of “Well my boyfriend doesn’t drink, and I don’t eat, so we don’t like barbeques. Also, we hate nature so camping is out of the question and, in reality, we don’t like you or your stupid kids. Many kisses!” Probably not exactly what they had in mind…

After that I had the lovely experience of taking a bus downtown to pay 200€ for, essentially, a receipt saying I’d paid which I was supposed to bring back to an office on campus which, after a subsequent 20 min bus ride I discovered was closed today. Because offices close every third Tuesday of the month? That’s not true I just can’t think of any reasonable explanation. I then ventured back downtown (grrreat) to open a bank account, which went surprisingly well. I had to make a separate appointment, however, just to deposit my travelers checks, however. C’est la vie, well, in France it is, I suppose. Luckily, the first two weeks of school don’t really count so missing class is not a problem and after that, professors seem to have little expectations of us exchange students which is good because I went to one art history class on Monday and nearly cried. At least I already know who Raphael is and some darling French girl named Tatiana told me I could borrow her notes because, clearly, I was struggling.

All for now, writing this in the library is not entirely pleasant…

Oh but also, how cute is this French kid??

<3

Sweet Suitcase Success.

For the first time in my life I have successfully not over-packed. I suppose now is the best time for such surprising character growth...Theres even extra space! This girls days of sitting on suitcases to force them closed are over (she said smugly before spending all of her money in Europe and then having to try and pack everything up to return home...).

Anyway, this is my last night (being snowed in is a fitting farewell from my dear VT) and I am watching Top Chef (of course) in a state of blissful denial of where I'll be this time tomorrow. Seeing as how if you're reading this blog you probably know me, my zen-like calmness must certainly seem shocking and in fact I feel a little uneasy about it myself. I've barely even cried yet! One might say I'm finally growing up, buuuuut who are we kidding? I'll be a slobbering mess as soon as I'm off the ground.

I'm such a mixture of emotion that they must all be cancelling each other out, but I'm so thankful that after all of this work and planning and worry and disheartening monetary sacrifice (suck it, UVM) that I'm finally going and finally doing something worth talking about and ending my streak as a complete fraud of a European Studies Major who has never been to Europe (run-on intended). I hope it's everything that I imagine and even if it weren't, I have the most wonderful people to come back to--so I find myself incredibly thankful.

So much love for home.