Mayhem in the Streets!

Ok, the title is overkill- there wasn't mayhem in the streets, but I did come across a demonstration one day.  Lots of honking, lots of dread-locked people with their dogs, some burning of flags...

"Freedom, Equality, Brotherhood, Health, Security, Tranquility

 

"Let's not forget history. 1939-1945: Nonconformist Population; Pursued, Executed. 2010-20??: Nonconformist Population; Condemned, Expelled."

"Declaration of Rights of Man and Citizens. Article 35: When the government violates the rights of the people, insurrection is for the people and for each portion of the people the most sacred of rights and the most indispensable of duties."

The Declaration mentioned in the caption above is the principle document from the French Revolution (1789) and, as you can see, it was heavily influenced by our Declaration of Independence and Thomas Jefferson, who was the French diplomat at the time.

I never found out exactly what prompted the protest.  I descended into the nearest metro station, where I had been headed, and never heard another thing about it.

Oh, Learning

Startling fact: Substitute teachers do not exist in France.  If a teacher is absent, the students don't go to class.. they hang out in the cafeteria, otherwise occupy themselves, who knows!  A teacher has to be out for 15 days- THREE WEEKS- before a replacement is brought in.  I don't know why this is.

Education Never Ends: My week was full of French classes!  I found two free courses offered by the University of Toulouse to international students and people like me.  Both are oral, focused on improving our speech.  (You learn to speak by speaking!)  They're entirely in French (at this level, I'd be extremely disappointed if they weren't), partly because it's the only common language: each class has 12 or 15 people; in both, I'm the only American; Spain is the only country represented more than once; people hail from Iceland, the former USSR countries, Colombia, Asia...

My Thursday night class will be language taught through culture-- French film, photography, literature, painting... Knowing nothing of the subject, I'm glad to be learning it from a connoisseur.  In the introductory class alone I took a page of notes on grammar, French history, current political figures, movements in film, colloquial expressions (learned how to say "I don't give a damn" and a few more vulgar phrases).

Another unofficial French class: I began my weekly meetings with the librarian from one of my schools who wants to maintain her English.  We met at her house, with her Jack Russell terrier, drank tea, and exchanged an hour of English for an hour of French.  Her topic of choice for the English hour was "mama grizzlies," referring to Sarah Palin and the political fad in the States.  The ensuing conversation taught me a lot about French politics my knowledge of which went from nothing to something.

... Interesting stuff, people. Take my word for it.

Make Friends In 7 Easy Steps!

If you ever find yourself in a new place in need of friends, do the following:

1) Pray.
2) Attend some social function where people are easily met.
3) Converse. Be charming so that they exchange numbers/emails/info with you.*
4) Accept all invitations to group events.**
5) Act as if you've been hanging out with them for years, even if they're [pleasantly] surprised to see you and you feel as if you're awkwardly pushing your way into their circle (which you are, but it needn't be awkward).
6) When in doubt, bring a hostess gift.
7) Be patient.  Someday you'll notice that you're no longer pretending to belong, you actually do belong.


*Get out of charming mode before going to the bus stop or laundromat, because you don't want to give out your digits there.
** Keyword: group.


In September, I prayed to God and asked for friends in France.  As always, He answers in his own time.  Four months later, I've met some fun people to hang out with.. I've even thought, "now that I have them, it'll be a shame to say good-bye in only three short months..."

Every Wednesday I go to a small group Bible study with these friends of mine.  It's in English; there are some Americans, a Canadian, a Kenyan, some Frenchies and others... We meet at different peoples' apartments, sometimes eat quelque choses, sing, have quality discussions... I've gone to the movies and a Peruvian concert (?) with them, eaten Thanksgiving dinner with them, and made cookies with them...

Last Saturday I went to a card-making party (in the same vein as a Mary Kay or Tupperware party, a womanly get-together with the hope that people spend money at the end).  We made BE-U-tiful cards with fancy paper and stamps, while drinking hot apple cider and feeling genteelly domestic (hot cider makes any occasion cheerful, so it was quite a nice time).

Voila. As I told my mom, with my new-and-improved social calendar, I feel like a have a "little life" here in Toulouse. Une petite vie.

Don't count every hour in the day. Make every hour in the day count.

Well, I've been back in Toulouse for three weeks now, so it's about time to catch you up on what I'm doing here!

My calendar has suddenly exploded-- even working as little as I do, everyday I have places to be and people to see!  And when I don't have something penciled in, I always need to run run run, read read read, study study study, and explore!

Why am I running?  To work off all the bread and cheese, of course.  My college days, when I couldn't (and didn't) go two consecutive days without exercise, are sadly over.  Sometimes I miss the 5:15 workouts, grabbing the day by the horns every morning.  I can't be as diligent without my team and coach, but I try to retain a faint shadow of my former Division-I-athlete-self.

What am I reading?  After seeing the Notre Dame in Paris, I was inspired to read The Hunchback of Notre Dame by Victor Hugo; he's quite a story-teller.  Now I'm onto A Tale of Two Cities by Dickens, in preparation for London.  I have a whole list of books set in France or Europe that I probably won't get to... A place is much more interesting if you visit it in your mind, through literature, before you visit in person.

What am I studying?  EVERYTHING. I want to study the language, French history, geography... "the more you learn, the more you realize how little you know," as the saying goes.  If only there were more than 24 hours in a day.  The good news is that when I went to the Mediatheque to read about French history- in French- I found that I can read an average book with relative ease.

What am I exploring?  Toulouse. And surroundings.  It's time for me to get out and see everything-- I've tried to do this all along, but a lot remains undone!  I don't want to come upon my last month in France and have a long list of places still to go (but it's kind of like the magic birthday candles that keep re-lighting-- as soon as one destination is checked off, another one takes its place).  My goal now is to use my three-day weekends to visit near-by cities (Barcelona, Marseille, Nice, to name the big ones) and my days off to discover Toulouse-- more museums, more salons de thé, secret niches...

More to come. And thanks for reading. As Always.

Croatia

On the right, the Croatian flag.

St. Mark's church in Zagreb with a tiled roof featuring the crests of Croatia.

To wrap up the loose ends of my trip:

Jelena's brother, Nikola, rowed for Cal Berkeley for four years (graduated in 2010).  Naturally, I feel akin to anyone who shares this passion of mine and understands the depth of the sport.  Their medals hung from a rod the length of the living room wall.  Nikola showed me the gold medal and the blazer that he won at Henley, the most prestigious rowing race in the world!

Croatian food that I tried:

fritule: sweet little balls of fried dough

mlinchi: flour dough similar to that used to make pasta, but cooked in oil, with chicken (Croatians seem to have no aversion to frying things).

poppy seed cake
We drank a lot of warm wine-- white, as opposed to the red served in France.

Dalmatian cuisine: olives, tapenade, Kulen (proscuitto-like meat from the region of Slavonija).

homemade olive oil (made by Jelena's grandmother! Bread from the corner store, dipped in this oil and salt- SO GOOD. Unlike anything I've ever tasted from the store).

homemade honey and dry goat cheese (Jelena's dad has a small farm near the coast).

sarma: ground pork cooked with rice, onions, and spices (similar to stuffed pepper filling) wrapped in a leaf of pickled cabbage then boiled. Good.

I love trying new foods!

While Croatia may not be too well-known in the U.S., when/where it is known, it's often for its beaches.  Its pristine Adriatic coast attracts tourists.  

Jelena told me about her vacations on the coast and I've seen pictures-- blissful.  If I'm REALLY lucky, maybe I'll get to go back and witness that side of the country for myself. :)

Culture is Cool

As I mentioned in my last post, I talked to three very articulate Croatians and reaped a lot of insight on the nuances between our life-styles.  Naturally, some of it I had already gathered from three years of rowing with "the Croatians" (as our team often lumped the four together).

--They don't share the idea of a "normal family home:" a house with a yard, a garage... I was initially shocked to hear that people might actually prefer an apartment to a house.  What about privacy, space away from neighbors, land ownership, the American dream?!  Jelena prefers her apartment, as do the others, claiming that by living there, in the city, you don't have the time-consuming commute into the suburbs-- work is done at 3, you're home by 3:30, and you have all afternoon to twiddle away...

-- The apartment buildings that I saw and in which my friends live are what I'd call "socialist" buildings.  They reflect the communist influence of the 20th century: blocky, utilitarian.

--They're big into fashion, or they dress nicely when they go out, at least.  My teammates were taken aback upon arriving in Texas and seeing students attending class and grocery shopping in T-shirts, hoodies, gym shorts, or - heaven forbid - pajama pants. In Croatia, it's always nice pants, nice boots, nice blouse, nice coat... Most young people spend money on brand names. (Side story: When Jelena's cousin came to visit Austin, my jawed dropped as I watched her spend hundreds of dollars in a single day, mostly on a $500 pair of cowboy boots. I lived in Texas and I don't own boots!  It's not that she's rich; she's not. It's just that they have this thing for shopping).

--Many 20-year-olds still can't drive because 1) they use public transportation.  2) The legal driving age is 18.  3) The process (lessons, etc) is far more lengthy and expensive than in the U.S. About $1000. Same goes for France.

--Their movies are in English; no big surprise there.  The French, though, are so staunch in the cultivation of their language that they dub over our movies.  The Croatians don't bother; they just read the subtitles.  When I asked one of the guys how he's speaks such good English, he answered "movies."  I don't believe for a second that he got it all from the cinema-- it's also a requirement in school from an early age.  But the point is worth making that the French effort to keep English at bay versus the Croatian indifference to it might result in more English-fluent Croatians than Frenchmen.  Are the French worse at English than their less-proud European neighbors? I have no idea.  Nor do I blame the French for getting defensive.  It's language imperialism, or language globalism, call it what you will.  How would we feel if we had to watch movies and TV shows where the mouths didn't match the words, or if we were forced to learn a language from elementary all the way up?  (Maybe it won't be long for America.  Many are already disturbed by the inroads Spanish is making).

-- Since college in Croatia is practically (if not literally) free, there's no rush to get out.  It's not uncommon to stay in school until your late 20s, taking it easy and drinking lots of coffee along the way.

-- Their vocational schools seem to be more serious than ours, though.  They asked me how, for example, one could become a plumber in the United States.  Oddly, I couldn't conjure an adequate answer.  I hadn't given much thought to how blue-collared workers get their jobs, besides gaining experience, joining the family business, getting a license of some kind from a voc. school.  (Maybe I'm revealing my ignorance on the issue).  In Croatia, a significant amount of time is put toward becoming such a worker.  It takes three years to become a qualified waitor! (As in France, service is seen as a career, not just a way for teenage girls to make money after school). Vocational schools often replace high school-- teenage years are spent learning a trade... When I asked Jelena "doesn't that mean you have to choose a career path when you're only 14?," thinking it a grave injustice to youth and freedom of choice, she just shrugged and said "people in the United States wait too late to decide; they never choose."  Knowing many peers (myself included?) whose careers still hang in the ambiguous "future," maybe she's right.

From Paris to Zagreb

Eastern Europe! Can you believe it? I hadn't even heard of Croatia before meeting my Croatian teammates four years ago, but there I was, visiting my former roommate and great friend, Jelena! Here's a map, to save you the wikipedia search:

I spent five low-key days hanging out with Jelena, her brother, and her mom. We:

-went ice-skating. Zagreb is inland and rather mountainous so it was cold, with some snow.
-drove to Kaprina, a small town toward Slovenia, to visit a museum about Neanderthals.  It was on the site of one of the biggest and most pivotal fossil discoveries of early man.
-had coffee with another of my Croatian teammates (I have four total).  Croatians drink a lot of coffee (kind of like Turkish people).  The cafe was a little loud and smoky-- not horribly smoky, just the odor.  That's something you don't really come across in the United States anymore- smoking indoors- but my friends said they're used to it, as it's the norm there, and that they get nostalgic for home when they smell cigarettes in the U.S.
-walked around downtown Zagreb, saw a few of its important sites.  It's Croatia's capital and largest city- approximately the same population as Austin, TX.
-visited her cousin, Snezjana, who I knew from her visit to Austin last year.  While drinking hot wine and eating flaky "butter bread," the priest came and blessed the home-- something he does for all the devout Catholics of his parish.
-went to the movies with some of her friends.  They spoke great English and we had a very interesting discussion on the walk home-- about cultural differences, school, stereotypes-- it was gratifying..

More about LIFE IN CROATIA in my next post!


While Zagreb didn't have the pretty views and "grandes choses" of Paris, it had something Paris didn't: FRIENDS! After traveling and sight-seeing alone, being with Jelena and her brother felt like nourishment.. It was nice just to lounge and read in the company of somebody I knew, in their cozy apartment, overlooking the white, wintery outskirts of Zagreb.  I was sorry when it came time to leave!

 

The sunset from Jelena's apartment 

Paris, Encore...

In the words of Frédéric Chopin:

"Paris répond à tous mes désirs. A Paris, on peut s’amuser, s’ennuyer, rire, pleurer, faire tout ce qui vous plaît: nul ne vous jette un regard, car il y a des milliers de gens qui font la même chose et chacun à sa manière... On trouve ici à la fois le plus grand luxe et la plus grande saleté, la plus grande vertu et le plus grand vice..."

Translation:  "Paris answers all of my desires.  In Paris, you can have fun, be irritated, laugh, cry, do all that pleases you: it's useless to throw a second glance, because there are millions of people doing the same thing and each in his own way... One finds here at the same time the greatest luxury and the greatest filth, the greatest virtue and the greatest vice..." 

Indeed, whether you are gleeful or dreary, in love or lonely, content or dissatisfied, Paris seems to  unroll the appropriate backdrop for the scene playing in your heart. 

A city with many sides.  There is historical Paris: not limited to the antiquities in the museums, but the museums (the 800-year-old Louvre) and the city itself.  Its age dawned on me when I was reading Victor Hugo's description of the same streets, squares, and bridges that I had crossed, and in the same paragraph mentioning that "America had not yet been discovered."  

There is artistic Paris with its Rodin sculptures and side-walk painters:

 There is gastronomical Paris: side-walk cafes, french menus that make everything sound enticing, chocolateries with boxes of truffles reaching the ceiling, little trees made out of macaroons.

 There is ritzy Paris, which I discovered by walking into Galleries Lafayette.  The tree inside was as dazzling as the lights without.  A entire floor full of Chanel, french perfumes, beautiful salespeople, women that still wear full-length fur coats...

Last but not least, there is romantic Paris, evidenced by a copious amount of PDA... Le Pont des Arts is a bridge riddled with padlocks, the result of millions of lovers locking their love, then throwing the key into the Seine. Awwww.

And, of course, Paris has a new dress for every season, which is why I'd like to, I'm planning to, return in the spring.  There's even a song about April in Paris.  I'd like to see the side-walk cafes, which I saw veiled against the cold, full of colorful people, and the Tuileries, which I saw under snow, full of flowers.  So, no "au revoir" for Paris, just "A toute à l'heure."

What's Christmas without music?

One of my favorite things about Christmas in Paris was the occasional spontaneous mini-concert on the metro or train: musicians would play their harmonicas, or guitars, or saxophones for donations.  It was so cheering.  Once, there was an entire orchestra set up in the subway; otherwise-hurried commuters stopped and listened:

Similarly, in front of the Notre Dame, I came across a crowd of people singing (what sounded like) gypsy music and dancing wildly in a circle.  Knowing no one in Paris and thus having no reason to be self-conscious, I joined in. A unique experience: