French Visa.

Wednesday I went into Boston for the day for a Jose Gonzalez concert at the MFA. While I was in town I planned on getting my French Visa taken care of so I could just get that over and done with.

I took the 8 o'clock train into South Station and then went straight over to the Arlington street station to try to find a place to get two more photos and find the consulate.

The consulate was pretty hard to find, possibly just because of my occasional poor sense of direction and also because they don't put the numbers on Hotels and there are a number of them on St. James St near the consulate. Expecting the consulate to have it's own building, I was looking outside all the buildings for a French Flag. Course I didn't find one.

The consulate is actually inside of a large office building, 31 St. James. I finally found it after being asked a billion questions by people passing by. "Where's the Ipod store?" "Do you know a Kinko's here?" Of course not. And the Ipod store is like six blocks that way. Do I look like I know where I am? No, because I'm looking down at a little notebook that I sketched out streets in and addresses. So should you ask me for directions? Probably not. Two young black men with heavy accents were looking for a Kinko's and I realized I could make a copy of my single passport photo and then have three.

So I went off on my own and found a Kinko's, to where I was given horrible service and wasted $2 on copies I found wouldn't work. Ironically the two young guys where there with little envelopes that passports come in when they mail them. Photos must be PHOTOS not copies. (duh)

So I went into another copy place in the same building as the Consulate to see if they had a machine that could copy photos or make more. Another girl who I had seen on the street who looked lost was behind me in line when the manager came out and said that the copier was broken and that we could go to another one one street over.

We walked together and I asked her where she went to school, obviously a college freshman or sophomore. She was at her orientation and is going a semester abroad to Spain and they didn't tell her she needed to go to the consulate today or that she needed to bring copies of everything. She was also without any money. We went down a set of stairs and into a long busy copy center and I spoke to one of the men and he suggested I just go get them redone because they might not accept a copy. One man who was there picking up copies told me to try a CVS around the corner where I could make photo copies of photos.

I said goodbye to the other girl and went over to the CVS and found that taking six more would be actually cheaper than making copies. The guy at the desk was super friendly and then after cutting them out, I skipped back to the consulate.

Going up to the seventh floor, I walked down to suite number 750, past two men speaking in French in the hallway. Ah, I am in the right place!

A little guard opened the door for me and directed me to the Visa section. It was a small little room with a closed off room attached through a glass window. I sat in one of the chairs around the outside of the room, next to a middle aged woman who struck up a conversation with me. We waited and listened to an old French woman trying to fight in English with a woman in the hallway, where the younger woman then yelled at her in French and then the old woman yelled back in English and French and then the young woman again in English. I laughed and the woman beside me said, "That's what happens after you've been here a while, you can fight in both!" she said she was from a DOM, probably la Martinique by her accent.

As I thought, the two young Kinko's men walk in and sit down after hovering by the window for a minute. "Find your Kinko's?" "Yes? Ah! It's you!" They went up to the window, turned in forms they had forgotten and were on their way "Bonne chance!"

There was one girl in front of me after la Martinique who was studying abroad in France for a semester from Uni of New Haven. Her mom was with her and they were talking about her paperwork and she was mentioning how they didn't have the financial guarantee. Out of self-interest, I asked her if she needed help, showed her my notarized form, gave her a blank copy out of the forms box and told her to go notarize it at the Post Office. Still, they didn't get out of line and went up to the window after la Martinique was finished. At the same time, a father and daughter walked in, looking like Nantucket people.

Nantucket people, for those of who don't know, are typically self-righteous rich people, dressed in casual but very expensive Polo's, khaki shorts, and boat shoes. Men always have impeccably white teeth and a short buzzed hair cut that still is long enough to style and women usually wear pearls and headbands. I kid you not. There swarm the beaches like flies in the summer.

Anyway, young miss unprepared went to the window, couldn't understand what forms he was looking for and would hold it up to the window guessing if it was the right one or not. Of course the financial guarantee is last. "Do you have you have a bank statement?" "No." "Financial Guarantee?" "No." And with that the young, obviously intern, Frenchman ran his fingers through his hair in that classic, "Agh" look. Finally, mom steps in. "If I get this notarized, will this work?" she asks, holding up the form I gave her. "Yes, that is it." "Okay, you wait here," she says, pointing to her daughter and scooping up her purse. "I'll go run to the Post Office and do this."

She is still at the window. I hop up to my feet and walk closer, nodded on by Mr. Nantucket. "Should I wait over there?" Yes, you should. She looks prepared for the long haul at the window but I walk closer and the young man seems relived to see me coming.

"Bonjour, j'espere tout va bien aujourd'hui." Hello, I hope everything is going well. I try my best to be polite and speak in French to make things easier on our young intern, who looks like he's been talking to idiots all day.

Form by form we go through the list and he inspects them, asks for a copy and gives the original back. Finally, the financial guarantee. "Avez-vous un situation de compte?" Do you have a bank statement? "Uhh, le site dit que c'est le seul chose..." The website said this is the only thing...

He jumps up, goes into a back room, and speaks in French to an obviously older man. Yes, that form is fine.

Phew. An application fee later and I'm due back Monday to get my passport and visa! Yay! One part of French bureaucracy down, a million to go. I decide to go over to the French Library, since it's in the same area. It's in a beautiful old house one street away from Beacon, where the Brown Stones are. ( Photo is from someone else. I couldn't find out who, but it's not mine. Please don't sue me!)

After going to the Library and speaking with a librarian, who took me into the Fiction room to suggest some that I might read before going next year, I went over to Cambridge to Schoenhof's Foreign Booksellers with some suggestions.

I looked through what they had, which was all really expensive. Around $35 and up! So I asked for a suggestion from the man at the counter, who didn't seem to know very much. He just kept saying "There's so much" over and over. Instead of asking questions of what I like to read, he just sighed and gave really bad answers. But he did turn out one book, Les Marins Perdus by Jean-Claude Izzo. So I bought it for 14.96, with tax, and was on my way.

I'm not really sure what it's about but it had something to do with Marseilles and sailors and sounded interesting by the staff review. I know it's also a movie.

After getting back on the Green line I went to the MFA to pick up the tickets and wander around and look at my favorite paintings. Admission was free at 4 so I sat outside on the steps, along with a lot of others. After about fifteen minutes I went in and was told I needed to check my bag.

There was a grumpy old woman at the coat check but I smiled and got my little tag and went across the museum to the box office. Of course, when I got there I realized I'd forgotten my credit card to get my tickets so I went back to get it out of my bag.

"You know it's one dollar for every time you take your bag out." The grumpy old woman said. "Really? Is that a new thing?" I reached into my wallet and pulled out a one reluctantly. "Got you!" she said, pointing at me and smiling. Sure did.

"Are you going to see El Greco?" There was a special exhibit on El Greco and other Spanish painters from the same era. "No, I'm here for Jose Gonzalez." "You're not going to see it?" "I don't know, maybe."

She reached into her chest pocket and pulled out a ticket. "You go now. And don't tell anyone," she winked. I zoomed up the stairs and into the special exhibit. The paintings were interesting, mostly religious but definitely haunting. (El Greco's Toldeo)

In the exhibit I got a phone call from my mom, who was on her way to join me for the concert and dinner. I finished looking at the paintings, thinking soon I'd be seeing paintings in Paris and Montpellier.

I waited outside the MFA for my mom and a man on a bike stopped asking for change for his ones. I didn't really catch on and ended up giving the guy a ten for "the room at the Y." Oh well, hopefully he actually spent it on that. He could probably better use ten dollars than me and besides, the special exhibit was $20 and I got it for free.

My mom arrived and we went back to the Pru and got dinner at a small Thai resto around the corner from St. James Church. Ironic to end the day where I began.

We went back to the MFA and got seats in the third row. The concert was phenomenal. Twi the Humble Feather, the openers, were awesome. Three men with guitars play sci-fi themed music about a character named Twi. Each of the men's personalities matched their guitars, the highest pitched continually nodding his head side to side with the beat, the middle man crooning melodies and tapping his feet and the bass very stoic in movement but certainly not lacking in emotional performance. At times they sounded like a group of monks in chant, other times the guitar paired with mouthed effects sounded like a spaceship whizzing by. (Twi the Humble Feather)

Gonzalez went on finally and played three encore songs. The effects were mesmerizing.

At the end of the concert my mom offered to buy a t-shirt in exchange for her ticket and I liked the t-shirt for Twi much better than Gonzalez. I went to look at them and the bandmates were jogging in place and I joined in and then my mom came over and the hyper-high tone guitar said "Aren't you going to jog too?" and she started up as well. I introduced myself and bought a shirt and left with a smile.

We walked back the the Pru and got the car out of the garage, forgetting to validate our parking we paid 34$, more than a single ticket to the concert. My mom was nevertheless pissed. I wish i had remembered we needed to do that.

All in all, regardless of being in a major city people are helpful and friendly, although so many of my peers in Arkansas say that Boston is such an unfriendly place without a communal ideal. I think they're completely wrong. You can't just approach someone on the street and expect them to welcome you into their home, as home is considered private and private space is highly cherished.

Why we desire private space is because in the city there is very little of it. On the subway bodies touch in often uncomfortable circumstances. At work we all sit in tiny cubicles with very little space and privacy, where everything said can be heard by anyone who cares to listen.

Hopefully the French feel the same way about public versus private and why that barrier exists. I've been taught a lot in school that French people enjoy their privacy and that things that may be considered common, like a store, are private in France. Bonjour always must accompany an entrance into a store.

But as I'll be a somewhat lost foreigner in France, I'm sure I might overstep the privacy bounds once or twice, although I'm going to be very gingerly about things I'm sure.

Vocabulary and Statistics.

Before going to France I'm trying to build up my vocabulary of daily terms that a lot of the time are not taught in French classes. I've found a couple useful resources so far.

http://albis.vetsin.com - This website is probably the best tool I've found thus far other than sitting down with a stack of vocab cards. It's a self-motivated game to beat the clock and survive with three lives. Each life is taken away once a mistake is made. First you click through a list of word pairs, the English and the French counterpart. Then you click start and the English word is given and you must produce the French. Articles are included but are not counted as part of the score (the only part I don't like). If you wish to go from French to English, click on the French Flag instead of the English one.

Words in a French Life by Kristin Espinasse is also a somewhat useful tool. Here's the Publisher's Weekly blurb:

Vignettes and vocabulary create the base for this lighthearted memoir by Espinasse, whose blog "French Word-A-Day" spawned three self-published books. Born and raised in Phoenix, Ariz., Espinasse followed her heart to France, where she married and started a family. Thirteen years later, she still endures being labeled l'Américaine and experiences the indignities of grammar correction (by her own children, no less). Each short chapter (some are just one page) is inspired by a French word, shares a brief anecdote about French life (incorporating French words into the text), and ends with a list of all of the vocabulary words used in the anecdote, their English translation and a list of expressions using the word. In between explaining words like complicité("closeness, complicity") and égard ("consideration"), Espinasse recounts her adventures, from fitting in with the French moms to undergoing culture shock on return visits to the States, with honesty and humor, never afraid to have a good laugh at her own expense. With its innovative and entertaining way of teaching the finer points of French, Espinasse's memoir will be popular with travelers and expats alike. (May) Copyright © Reed Business Information, a division of Reed Elsevier Inc. All rights reserved.

It's a cutesy book, although I'm not sure about it's effectiveness. I still have to make vocab lists and cards for the book because her little stories typically don't actually include the word but rather the concept. Nevertheless it's a small little crash course in Frenchness. For example, what the tooth fairy is in France.

As for other tools, I'll let you know when I stumble across them!

Yesterday I took my ailing laptop over to Best Buy to see if they could fix it and sadly it had to be sent out to "Geek Squad City" to be fixed. I kid you not. That is the term the manager used when he was explaining where my computer was going. It wont be back for at least a week, if it even comes home at all that is. I have a feeling the motherboard is fried and that I'll be getting a brandy new one! Always buy the three-year service agreement. I've had to use it twice now.

Anyway, since my computer is M.I.A. I've been getting a bunch of reading done. Not as much time spent on the Internet researching trains and planes!

I'm about half-way done with Through French Windows by Corbett. As most books in a college library, it's certainly an academic analysis of the French people and government. But in particular the attitude and tone Corbett takes to his pursuit is something odd. In comparison, the Americans are always seen as less than wholesome relying on European stereotype of Americans rather than statistical information; as far as we can tell that is, as Corbett rarely quotes sources to back up his American bashing and I'm pretty sure he's from Unvi of Grenoble and as academics go, he does cite his stats for Frenchness. Of course, this is seen in his tone that is completely dissatisfied with present France (published 1994) and that the France of the future will be a horrible place if things don't change.

Maybe it's my optimism from my American standpoint but I think a lot of the things Corbett expounds on as being less than satisfactory are a lot better than previous years. Sure, the French nuclear family has changed in recent years but that's an international trend in developed countries. Does that mean that France's family ties are falling apart? Not necessarily, just changing.

Anyway, enough of my criticism. All told, this book is pretty useful for cold-hard facts about French policies, economics, politics and demographics. It explains a lot of how the Secu (social security) works and the problems it presents. Things like that. As for the reasons why you should keep your hands on the table, that kind of cultural talk is excluded. Don't let the first chapter that contains a picture of Asterix fool you. This is an academic study and can be just as dry as the Sahara. But if you're looking for explanations of tax brackets and the reaction to AIDS, this is the place to look.

But of course as I'm not done with the book this isn't my final review. More to come later.

A second result of the missing laptop is that although I had taken pictures to put up today it's sadly going to have to wait.

La Fete des Peres.

Father's Day is an international holiday, believe it or not. I mean, Dads are a universal thing so of course, they're honored in other coutries as well, the most popular celebration date is the third Sunday of June. Both France and the US celebrate it today!

So while I'm at the shop for the day, giving my Pop the day off as his present, I'm going to do a little bit of research on Father's Day in France.

There's http://www.fete-peres.com/histoire.htm that gives a little information on the origin of Father's Day in French.

It's an occasion for a family get-together and a big meal and of course, presents for Papa!

Pretty much the same as the US but it's nice to know the French celebrate it as well.

Libraries abound!

So I finished up CasaBiancia's travel tips and I have to say that I definitely recommend it but that you could probably find the same exact thing a bit more updated. Towards the end the parts about crime are a bit daunting but the small blurb on terrorism is laughable, considering it was pre-9/11. But nevertheless his advice is helpful. Don't let terrorism deter you from traveling to Western Europe, a generally really safe place. Less violent crime than the US!

I measured my bag today and it is one inch over Icelandair's carry on restrictions, but for weekend trips I doubt I'll ever pack it full to capacity, so a bit of squishing and I think I'm okay. Trains don't really have baggage restrictions and I think that's going to be my primary transportation, unless Ryanair or EasyJet have cheap fares for a weekend.

Now, on to my conundrum of a laptop. Usually when traveling between Arkansas and Massachusetts (which is lugging my bags typically down a few flights of stairs, putting it in someone else's car, having someone drive me to the airport, checking two bags and carrying on one, along with my pink laptop case that is a complete pain in the ass. Needless to say, it is not fun.

So, as a solution, I'm thinking of taking two checked bags, my pack safely tucked into a box and my lovely La Reunion suitcase "given" to me by Adam (it turns into a backpack and has wheels). Then a small carry-on bag with laptop, documents, glasses, change of clothes (?), and carry on contact stuff (so I can sleep on the plane and not worry about fuzzy contacts). Once on ground that small bag will tuck nicely into one of the two checked ones, or will be slung on my front.

The only thing I'm worried about is looking like an easy target for theft and also having to lug my suitcases to a hostel somewhere in Paris. I wonder how much a shuttle from the airport to my hostel would be?


Enough with speculation.

Today I went to the college library and got a card, as now our town library has gone to shit because of lack of funds and we can no longer withdraw from other libraries via interlibrary loan. Bullshit.

But to my pleasant surprise, the college library had a huge amount of French literature and history. After browsing the stacks for a while, I stumbled upon Albert Camus' Journaux de Voyage, the journals from his trip to the US in May 1946. Might be an interesting read. I've never heard of it but that just goes to show Hendrix's supremely lacking collection of French works. It's a sad state, full of really old and water damaged books left over from the library fire.

The second book I picked up is Through French Windows: An Introduction to France in the Nineties by James Corbett. It's a thick cloth bound volume full of some interesting sections, the first titled "From Soap to Smart Cards." I'm sure I wont read the whole thing but it's worth a shot.

Today I need to book my Paris and Montpellier hotels, along with my train ticket to Montpellier. I'm not sure to leave the 3rd of September and stay in a hostel or arrive like I'm supposed to the 4th and be met by my ISEP coordinator.

Also, I need to figure out these damn train schedules for Montpellier. Why the hell do they not just have a timetable online like we do here for our Amtrak and Metro lines? It would make my life of planning places so much easier.

There's a First time for Everything.

Since I've been home from Hendrix, that small little liberal arts school in Arkansas that I attend, I haven't been doing much of anything exciting.

But as always, there's been a lot going on. To earn money this summer, I've been work at my Dad's store in Foxboro, Ace Archers. We just opened the store in February so we're slowly building a client base and sometimes we will have days where no one will come in. It's pretty depressing but hopefully as time goes on, things will pick up.

Other than working, I've been preparing for France by reading anything I can get my hands on and joining millions of forums on the internet. Although I'm very nervous and feel really unprepared to live for a year in a foreign language and country, I know people who have gone to Europe for a few months with a single backpack and no knowledge of any foreign languages and they've been perfectly fine.

As for information, I've been assembling lists and links, books and blogs, and a group of worried parents. My parents must be very proud that I'm going abroad because every time someone comes into our store and I say I'm their daughter and can help them, they ask if I'm the one going to France next year.

Anyway, as for information on travel, I've been reading an older book I picked up at our favorite used book store last weekend named, First-Time Europe by Louis CasaBianca. It was published by Rough Guides in 1996, so a few things are outdated like converting currency between countries versus just the Euro and the ability to carry on all you need for two months in Europe on a plane (3oz rule?).

CasaBianca breaks down the book into 12 chapters and a section called "The Basics" where it just has lists of useful info and numbers (who knows if they're still right but it's worth a shot). It covers a lot of questions for general travel for a short term European vacation. And by vacation I mean for budget travel. Although it is meant for short term summer travel, there are still some really useful parts for us exchange students.

1- Planning. I know you want to travel while you're doing an exchange, who doesn't?
2- Budget. Surviving overseas on $5,000. Can it be done? I hope so...
3- Packing lists. These are definitely for the traveler but give some really good ideas for things you might have forgotten, like a first aid kit or a sewing kit. Everyone needs one of those. Also, CasaBiancia's two month packing list is probably all I'll be taking plus a few more things. I plan on buying clothes when I get there and taking a ton of shampoo and contact solution instead, as I hear it's very expensive.
4- A crash course in European travel. Yes, things have changed, along with all the measly low prices he quotes for travel expenses. Nevertheless, this gives the reader a good estimate on how to travel around in Europe. Channel crossing or Tunnel? Hum... Dover cliffs? Yes, please.
5- Accommodation. Where there is travel, there is sleeping. Always thought you could just sleep away in train stations on weekend breaks? Think again.


That's as far as I've gotten but there are some remaining sections on crime and what to see, along with getting home.

The best part of this so far is that it gave a really awesome suggestion for travel gear, like what backpack etc to bring. CasaBiancia writes, "You'll be happiest if you bring no more than what you can carry on the airplane: a large, well-made daypack or a small travel pack" (43). For us exchange students, that's not really possible on the way over, as we have to bring our lives with us on the first way over. But regardless, this minimalist thinking is a thing of which to be proud. Consider his advice wisely. Do you really need those high-heels on cobblestone streets in Paris? Probably not.

As for pack advice, he discusses internal frame packs, which have come a LONG way since this book was written. I had already bought my pack, thinking 60$ (sale at L.L. Bean) for a small pack that can fit what I need for a week was good. But now I'm thinking it might be a bit too big because I might not be able to carry it on a plane. I know on the way over I planned on checking it and taking a smaller bag on the plane with a change of clothes and documents and the like. Then just slipping it into one of my bags after getting them off the luggage carrel, I would be ready to go. I always wondered how to prevent my clips and ties and everything on my bag could stay protected.

I've seen so many people covering their bags in clear plastic wrap, covering it in tape, and writing all their information on the outside. I have no idea how reliable this is. But CasaBiancia suggests getting a box that fits around your bag and checking it that way. No worries of broken plastic wrap. Just throw the box away and you're good to go.

Now, to just measure my pack and see if it'll squish into a overhead bin...