So I haven't blogged in a REALLY long time. Sorry. Not having internet, French strikes, and just life in general gets in the way. I don't think anyone reads this but my mom anyway (Hi Mom Happy Mommy's day!).
I'm trying to think if I should continue this or not. I hate plugging my blog it makes me feel like a nerd/idiot. Which means no one will start reading it. Oh whatever.
I leave France very soon. I'm not sure how I feel about it. I know I will miss it but at the same time, I never really miss the other places I've lived but more so the people I had with me. Kirsten will be back in the US and Marjo is probably moving there. Martin, god knows what he'll be doing, probably chasing skirts his whole life. I'm packing up all my things now, leaving the shelves to their empty state I met them at. It's bizarre to think that I've made a life here and when I'm gone I leave no mark. Maybe that's why someone scratched "MK '44" into my desk. Or maybe why there is so much graffiti everywhere in Europe.
Since I haven't had class a lot lately, I've been thinking a lot about my future. I have one year left to my formal studies, unless I decide to go to an advanced degree, which I doubt I will. Why the hell do I want to be a writer? Maybe I want to leave my own mark.
I went to Dublin a while ago and visited The Writers' Museum. It was one of the sadest places I'd ever been to. The Yeats display at the National Library was amazing though. But I don't want to write for fame, I want to write because I feel I have to. But what to write I don't know. I don't want to just be a nobody, which is really hard. I want people to actually READ what I write. And I want them to understand it. I am not an avant-gardist. And I don't want to be just another PoMo. I need something more. One side of me doesn't want to be sold in Wal-Mart but the other side does, I want everyone to read my writing. I want it to change how they think about themselves and their world.
But how do I do that? I've got a lot of great ideas in my head but I never follow them through. I think it's mostly because I know they aren't the best. But I also can't wait for the best. I have to make it the best.
Okay, I really need to get back to studying for my exam on Avant-Gardes. And pack.
8.2.09
Rain, Rain, GO AWAY!
So this last week it rained from Friday night till Wednesday. Pretty ridiculous for the south of France if you ask me! Last Saturday we were supposed to have a sleep over with a new American/Ukraine girl to think about her life’s plans. But because she forgot she had a dinner to go to, it was pushed back till ten at night. Not much time for life’s plans! So by the time ten rolled around, Kirsten and Marjolaine and I decided we would bring the party to Mariya. Even though none of us had any desire to go into town because we were tired and it was raining.
But we went anyway, walking in the rain and waiting by the fountain forever for Mariya to show up. But we made it into a fun night, entitled “Nuit de Merde”, where anything that was bad was actually GREAT! It ended up being an awesome time.
Saturday morning there was a meeting for all the ISEP coordinators of France on our campus and all the ISEP students were invited, so we went to meet all of the coordinators. It was kind of interesting, although I didn’t talk to any of the coordinators and pretty much just stuffed my face with free food. Best kind of food is free!
So in the US we have ground hog’s day to determine the weather for the next six weeks. In France they have Chandeleur, to make you fat on crepes. The tradition is that you hold a gold coin in your hand (traditionally a Louis) and flip a crepe. If you succeed, then you will have good luck for the year. If not, well, sorry! I should have pretty good luck for the year, along with everyone else who tried. But Chandeleur also has a weather aspect. If it rains on Chandeleur, it will continue to rain for two weeks. Of course, it was pouring outside.
Tuesday morning I went to class only to find a sign on the door that class was canceled and that our homework was in the library. My professor had sent out an email the night before stating she would be going on strike. Of course not having the best access to internet, I didn’t find out till I saw the sign. The teachers voted on Tuesday afternoon to go on strike but it’s only a few departments and not even all the professors in that department. So far, my French literature professor is on strike and that one English professor. Other than that, all my other professors are teaching still (I have eight this semester whereas a French student has about ten).
Why are they on strike? Well at first I didn’t know but after a few days both of my professors on strike sent out emails explaining the circumstances. Pretty much there are three reasons:
So as far as I’m concerned, yes the universities need to be improved. At least this one. I recently went to one of the others in town and their campus looks so much better, which is a pretty strong sign that they have more money. If research is the only way they can make money, science and business universities are going to have more money than humanities. It’s a given. So what is poor little Paul-Valery to do?
Raise tuition is the first step. Right now French students here pay about 200 Euros for each major per semester. Some have scholarships and some don’t. A few weeks ago the government stopped offering a lot of scholarships. I know to an American 200 euros is a tiny amount. But consider what we get and what they get. They get huge lectures filled with 500 other students. They don’t have any kind of relationship with their professors. Almost half of all students fail. They have libraries but other than that, there are no other resources. No gyms. None of the extras we get in the US. No after school activities funded by the university (except maybe theater because that’s a major but I’m really not sure on that).
How can French university be changed? Well sure, Americans can offer a lot of solutions. But they don’t fit into French culture. It’s a huge task to change a whole country’s education system and making broad generalizations about “those French” just don’t work. It doesn’t acknowledge their distinct culture. I couldn’t even tell you how to go about changing it.
I can only say the things that need to change. First off, the teaching style here is not very effective. They pretty much recite and the students copy down word for word what they say. That style doesn’t fit many types of learning and you have to be able to write pretty fast as well. Any kind of learning disability and you will probably be left behind. There is also no motivation to go to class when professor teach like that. I’ve seen students talk on their cell phones in class at times because they are bored.
Each lecture is paired with a smaller class that is supposed to be more homework and more intense study. Many times the topic is completely unrelated to the large lecture. In theory, the lecture is supposed to be guidance on how to work in the smaller class. For example in literature, it’s supposed to give you a general overview in which to place the texts you work on in the small class. But of course, it doesn’t always work that way.
The smaller lectures vary a lot by professor. But in general the grading is the same. One oral and one paper. That’s it. Each counts for half the grade for the small class, which in turn counts for usually 2/3 of the final grade. The large lecture is one final exam that counts for 1/3 of the final grade. You can flunk the lecture portion and still pass the class with a mid-range grade, which is all a French student shoots for. Getting a perfect grade, no matter how hard you work, is unheard of. So why work any harder than you need to get that mid-range grade? Yes, you do have to study to pass; it’s not quite as easy in the US, but getting an A NEVER HAPPENS. Pretty discouraging.
Also another interesting part is that students only have to pass the semester, not each class. The grades within their major are averaged and if they get at least a 10, they get to move on. But often, students are really close but not quite a ten. Then it’s taken to a review board who decides if you get to go to the next year. Although I’ve never heard about how it works, I’d imagine it’s pretty easy if you have at least a 9,5 since there is a vast majority of students who have an average of something around that. So say you’re really good at one thing and really stink at another? Why not focus all your energy on that one thing you’re good at, get an awesome grade, and flunk the other. It just evens out. So that leaves a lot of French students who know some things very very well and others they don’t know at all.
Remember, this is just an American talking about French education. There are obviously a lot of problems and also not all French students fit this stereotype. Marjolaine, for example, works really hard at everything she does and is a super smart girl. But her future is still really up in the air because of how the system works. Can she get a job after? Who knows? Only time will tell.
Strikes are part of French culture but apparently this strike is unusual as its wider spread than strikes in the past. Last Thursday it wasn’t just one group, it was many. That’s the weird part. Also universities that don’t normally join in are joining in. But that doesn’t always mean teaching stops completely. It just means that some professors aren’t teaching and some are. It’s a wait and see kind of deal. I just go to class and cross my fingers that the professor will be there.
As for the weekend, it was a pretty fun one. Friday night we had martinis. They are not the same as in the US. They come in one bottle and you just pour it out and drink it. And they’re super sweet. But be careful with them, you can’t taste the alcohol because they are so sweet but they are also only 14,4% compared to your average American cocktail, that’s a lot less (Don’t worry Mom, I only had two).
The next morning Kirsten and I took a bike ride to the outside of the city. It’s pretty sad to say that we have not seen very much in the surrounding area. So we got bikes and just went away from the city. We got a little lost and almost ended up on the highway but we made it back home safe and sound. Along the way we saw a 18th century aqueduct that I’m pretty sure a professor of mine talked about, comparing it with the Pont du Gard, the oldest and largest aqueduct in France built by the Romans.
The mistral started blowing yesterday while we were riding out bikes, pushing down on us so hard it felt like we were going up a huge hill when it was just flat. Gear one on flat, perfectly paved bike paths. Great…But it was an awesome time. And now I can say I can pull out my camera and take a picture while biking. I almost crashed a few times but never did :)
Saturday night Kirsten and I went to a Valentine’s dessert party hosted by a bunch of Mount Holyoke girls. I felt really weird at the party, not really sure what to talk about with the girls. Kirsten felt the same way. What do we say to them? Not really sure, nor really sure why we felt that way. I think it’s because those girls there and us lead pretty different lives and hold very different perspectives about things. One of them mentioned to me that the host was very good at acting sugary sweet to people she hated and then saying what she really meant later. It seemed to be a prized trait as other girls chipped in their praise for her talent. I was surprised and wondered what kind of things she said about me when my back was turned. But as I thought that I caught myself. Why does it matter? She’s a nice girl to my face and invited me to her home, so I figured that she is sincere in her words. But it really bugged me that those girls prize insincerity.
As for today, I slept in and have a lot of work to do. Because my professors went on strike, I now have homework I wouldn’t normally have. And on top of that, next Friday is the deadline for Odyssey Funding from Hendrix. Internship here I come!
But we went anyway, walking in the rain and waiting by the fountain forever for Mariya to show up. But we made it into a fun night, entitled “Nuit de Merde”, where anything that was bad was actually GREAT! It ended up being an awesome time.
Saturday morning there was a meeting for all the ISEP coordinators of France on our campus and all the ISEP students were invited, so we went to meet all of the coordinators. It was kind of interesting, although I didn’t talk to any of the coordinators and pretty much just stuffed my face with free food. Best kind of food is free!
So in the US we have ground hog’s day to determine the weather for the next six weeks. In France they have Chandeleur, to make you fat on crepes. The tradition is that you hold a gold coin in your hand (traditionally a Louis) and flip a crepe. If you succeed, then you will have good luck for the year. If not, well, sorry! I should have pretty good luck for the year, along with everyone else who tried. But Chandeleur also has a weather aspect. If it rains on Chandeleur, it will continue to rain for two weeks. Of course, it was pouring outside.
Tuesday morning I went to class only to find a sign on the door that class was canceled and that our homework was in the library. My professor had sent out an email the night before stating she would be going on strike. Of course not having the best access to internet, I didn’t find out till I saw the sign. The teachers voted on Tuesday afternoon to go on strike but it’s only a few departments and not even all the professors in that department. So far, my French literature professor is on strike and that one English professor. Other than that, all my other professors are teaching still (I have eight this semester whereas a French student has about ten).
Why are they on strike? Well at first I didn’t know but after a few days both of my professors on strike sent out emails explaining the circumstances. Pretty much there are three reasons:
So as far as I’m concerned, yes the universities need to be improved. At least this one. I recently went to one of the others in town and their campus looks so much better, which is a pretty strong sign that they have more money. If research is the only way they can make money, science and business universities are going to have more money than humanities. It’s a given. So what is poor little Paul-Valery to do?
Raise tuition is the first step. Right now French students here pay about 200 Euros for each major per semester. Some have scholarships and some don’t. A few weeks ago the government stopped offering a lot of scholarships. I know to an American 200 euros is a tiny amount. But consider what we get and what they get. They get huge lectures filled with 500 other students. They don’t have any kind of relationship with their professors. Almost half of all students fail. They have libraries but other than that, there are no other resources. No gyms. None of the extras we get in the US. No after school activities funded by the university (except maybe theater because that’s a major but I’m really not sure on that).
How can French university be changed? Well sure, Americans can offer a lot of solutions. But they don’t fit into French culture. It’s a huge task to change a whole country’s education system and making broad generalizations about “those French” just don’t work. It doesn’t acknowledge their distinct culture. I couldn’t even tell you how to go about changing it.
I can only say the things that need to change. First off, the teaching style here is not very effective. They pretty much recite and the students copy down word for word what they say. That style doesn’t fit many types of learning and you have to be able to write pretty fast as well. Any kind of learning disability and you will probably be left behind. There is also no motivation to go to class when professor teach like that. I’ve seen students talk on their cell phones in class at times because they are bored.
Each lecture is paired with a smaller class that is supposed to be more homework and more intense study. Many times the topic is completely unrelated to the large lecture. In theory, the lecture is supposed to be guidance on how to work in the smaller class. For example in literature, it’s supposed to give you a general overview in which to place the texts you work on in the small class. But of course, it doesn’t always work that way.
The smaller lectures vary a lot by professor. But in general the grading is the same. One oral and one paper. That’s it. Each counts for half the grade for the small class, which in turn counts for usually 2/3 of the final grade. The large lecture is one final exam that counts for 1/3 of the final grade. You can flunk the lecture portion and still pass the class with a mid-range grade, which is all a French student shoots for. Getting a perfect grade, no matter how hard you work, is unheard of. So why work any harder than you need to get that mid-range grade? Yes, you do have to study to pass; it’s not quite as easy in the US, but getting an A NEVER HAPPENS. Pretty discouraging.
Also another interesting part is that students only have to pass the semester, not each class. The grades within their major are averaged and if they get at least a 10, they get to move on. But often, students are really close but not quite a ten. Then it’s taken to a review board who decides if you get to go to the next year. Although I’ve never heard about how it works, I’d imagine it’s pretty easy if you have at least a 9,5 since there is a vast majority of students who have an average of something around that. So say you’re really good at one thing and really stink at another? Why not focus all your energy on that one thing you’re good at, get an awesome grade, and flunk the other. It just evens out. So that leaves a lot of French students who know some things very very well and others they don’t know at all.
Remember, this is just an American talking about French education. There are obviously a lot of problems and also not all French students fit this stereotype. Marjolaine, for example, works really hard at everything she does and is a super smart girl. But her future is still really up in the air because of how the system works. Can she get a job after? Who knows? Only time will tell.
Strikes are part of French culture but apparently this strike is unusual as its wider spread than strikes in the past. Last Thursday it wasn’t just one group, it was many. That’s the weird part. Also universities that don’t normally join in are joining in. But that doesn’t always mean teaching stops completely. It just means that some professors aren’t teaching and some are. It’s a wait and see kind of deal. I just go to class and cross my fingers that the professor will be there.
As for the weekend, it was a pretty fun one. Friday night we had martinis. They are not the same as in the US. They come in one bottle and you just pour it out and drink it. And they’re super sweet. But be careful with them, you can’t taste the alcohol because they are so sweet but they are also only 14,4% compared to your average American cocktail, that’s a lot less (Don’t worry Mom, I only had two).
The next morning Kirsten and I took a bike ride to the outside of the city. It’s pretty sad to say that we have not seen very much in the surrounding area. So we got bikes and just went away from the city. We got a little lost and almost ended up on the highway but we made it back home safe and sound. Along the way we saw a 18th century aqueduct that I’m pretty sure a professor of mine talked about, comparing it with the Pont du Gard, the oldest and largest aqueduct in France built by the Romans.
The mistral started blowing yesterday while we were riding out bikes, pushing down on us so hard it felt like we were going up a huge hill when it was just flat. Gear one on flat, perfectly paved bike paths. Great…But it was an awesome time. And now I can say I can pull out my camera and take a picture while biking. I almost crashed a few times but never did :)
Saturday night Kirsten and I went to a Valentine’s dessert party hosted by a bunch of Mount Holyoke girls. I felt really weird at the party, not really sure what to talk about with the girls. Kirsten felt the same way. What do we say to them? Not really sure, nor really sure why we felt that way. I think it’s because those girls there and us lead pretty different lives and hold very different perspectives about things. One of them mentioned to me that the host was very good at acting sugary sweet to people she hated and then saying what she really meant later. It seemed to be a prized trait as other girls chipped in their praise for her talent. I was surprised and wondered what kind of things she said about me when my back was turned. But as I thought that I caught myself. Why does it matter? She’s a nice girl to my face and invited me to her home, so I figured that she is sincere in her words. But it really bugged me that those girls prize insincerity.
As for today, I slept in and have a lot of work to do. Because my professors went on strike, I now have homework I wouldn’t normally have. And on top of that, next Friday is the deadline for Odyssey Funding from Hendrix. Internship here I come!
30.1.09
Strikes!
It’s been a super busy week, full of changes and realizations. Which is both good and bad. I’m sitting in my room in my lovely IKEA chair that Lukas helped carry back (Thanks :) ) eating my lunch with my laptop playing some relaxing John Mayer. And boy, do I need to just relax!
To start off with the most interesting part of my week, there was a national strike yesterday in France against a lot of different things but mostly the display of collective disapproval and even hatred of Sarkozy, the current President of France. It wasn’t just students either; it was teachers of all grades, transportation workers, factories, banks, basically anything unionized (which means everything in France). So to find out what a French strike was like, I decided to participate, but certainly not do anything but watch from the inside.
The Manifestation, as it’s called in French, was in front of Peyrou, a large park dedicated to a huge Louis XIV statue and an aqueduct. It started at two thirty, so I made my way to the tram at one hoping to grab one of the last ones before the strike started. The strike was all day long but trams were running about every half hour. Many classes were canceled. I thought about snatching up a bike from the rental station to make sure I could get back later but of course the stupid machine wasn’t working. So I joined the masses in the trams.
The trams were only heading downtown and were pretty often, about every ten minutes. But we stopped short as all the trams were lining up at the stop closest to Peyrou. They let us all out and everyone started walking towards the park, some unrolling banners, others just with cameras and smiles in the southern sun. I walked up towards the Jardin des Plantes, in between the Peyrou and the tram, and texted a bunch of friends asking if they were coming. Two girls in my English class told me to wait there for me and they would “teach me proper striking procedure.” As I was waiting a huge group of students from Paul Valery walked by with banners, many of whom I knew. I waved and said hi and they called me to join them. After fairing la bis while walking backward (quite a feat I must admit J) they started shouting “Yes We Can” and that they had an American with them. I told them I’d meet them later but that I was waiting for other friends.
Finally my two French friends showed up and went to one of their apartments to change out of heels (Lesson number one: Wear cute but comfy shoes!) and we walked back to the place where people were gathering. Of course my American friend who was joining us was on the other side of the street under the Arc de Triomphe. It was next to impossible to get to the other side because there were so many people. We had to plow our way through, holding hands to make sure one of us didn’t get trapped. (Lesson two: Always meet somewhere other than the mass meeting point)
After about half an hour of wading through people we finally met, using banners and flags as reference points. And then we waited. And waited. And waited some more. So Marie, one of the French students pulled out a bunch of one sided paper and her and the other French girl made make shift signs of common slogans about education. (Lesson Three: Always have some paper and pens on hand for impromptu signage) But of course we had no way to hold up the signs. So Liza, the other Frenchie, decided to punch a hole through it with her earring and wear it as a REALLY large earring. (Lesson Four: If it’s a strike, nothing looks silly as long as you get your message out)
A little while later we started moving and that's when I really realized how many people were at the rally. (Lesson Five: Don’t get there on time because it will be late) Students were perched on anything within hands reach holding signs and taking pictures. There were thousands of people flooding down the hill into two in all directions singing and using noise makers. A year ago Sarko told the French that no one notices when they go on strike (probably meaning the international media). But as for French noticing it, there’s no way you couldn’t.
The Police projected that there were around 30,000 people demonstrating yesterday while the Unions say it was closer to 40,000. Either way, for such a small city, that’s a crap ton of people. That’s twice more than the population of my hometown. Can you imagine that? (Lesson Six: Never tell the French what they can’t do. They’ll prove you wrong every time.)
So we walked through the city and were asked to sign petitions (don’t worry Mom, I didn’t. No deportation for me!) And sung songs related to the strike taught to us by Liza. By the time we got to La Comedie, I had learned so much about French politics my head was spinning (Lesson Seven: Know your Ministers)
At that point they were going to sit down in front of the Prefecture, the local government that I know so well from doing my Carte de Sejour. I figured I’d had enough for the day so I decided to take a bike home and rest up for a while before going out. But we ended up having a lovely dinner in my room of couscous stew.
I think the Manifestation was the best way to christen my brand new residency permit. It’s called a Titre or Carte de Sejour and it’s a really lengthy process to get your first one. If you’re an American you’re pretty much set in getting it because you’ve probably been vaccinated for everything under the sun and have enough money. The first part is to go start your Dossier, or file, at the Prefecture. For students, there might be another place, such as the Pole Univerisitaire for me! I went there with all my paperwork (which really varies by region, so go to the place where you need to apply and ask for a list of required papers) and made my first Dossier. Then a while later they send you a blue slip. With said slip you go to the Prefecture and pick up your receipt of filing. It’s a piece of paper with your picture on it and is a temporary thing that allows you to work. Then wait a while longer and you’ll get a letter in the mail that gives an appointment for a doctor’s visit.
The weirdest part of it all is the stamp. When you go to your medical visit you must bring with you a 55 Euro stamp that can usually be bought at a Tabac near the medical center. It is never mentioned that you need it; I found out from other Americans that had shown up without it. Not planning on spending that much money while on such a tight budget, I just stared blankly at the American girl who told me for a minute and really freaked her out. Do you really need it? Maybe, maybe not. I’ve heard of people in Paris getting away without it. But here in Montpellier you absolutely must have it. No stamp, no Carte.
The visit is really bizarre and when someone told me it was like an assembly line I laughed. But it’s the truth. You go to the office and they put your file in one bin and stick you in a waiting room. Then a doctor calls you and you go into the office and talk about sexual health, vaccinations (so bring your vaccine sheet) and family history. Then you go back to the waiting room. Then an x-ray tech calls you and they take an x-ray of your lungs to make sure you don’t have TB. It’s really awkward because you have to undress and then press your chest up against a machine and inhale at the right time. Then back to the waiting room. Then the last and final doctor takes a glance at your x-ray and asks you a few questions why you’re there. (Mine asked why the hell I would study English in France.) Then back to the waiting room where you wait for some random person who takes your sheets and stamps them and takes your stamp and sticks it to the papers and give you your Carte. And you’re free! YAY!
The Carte is immensely detailed. I couldn’t even imagine how much a fake one of those costs. Probably a few thousand Euros. But who cares? I have a real one!!
So this free French resident is going to go look for some cheap running sneakers. I think it might be hard but it’s still the soldes (super duper sales which I will write about later) so I might have some luck. I decided that I wouldn’t give up eating gobs of butter with my baguettes but just to start running with Kirsten. Okay, maybe not running for now but probably more like fast walking/jogging. Takes time! And god, I am out of shape. Damn you French Cheese :)
To start off with the most interesting part of my week, there was a national strike yesterday in France against a lot of different things but mostly the display of collective disapproval and even hatred of Sarkozy, the current President of France. It wasn’t just students either; it was teachers of all grades, transportation workers, factories, banks, basically anything unionized (which means everything in France). So to find out what a French strike was like, I decided to participate, but certainly not do anything but watch from the inside.
The Manifestation, as it’s called in French, was in front of Peyrou, a large park dedicated to a huge Louis XIV statue and an aqueduct. It started at two thirty, so I made my way to the tram at one hoping to grab one of the last ones before the strike started. The strike was all day long but trams were running about every half hour. Many classes were canceled. I thought about snatching up a bike from the rental station to make sure I could get back later but of course the stupid machine wasn’t working. So I joined the masses in the trams.
The trams were only heading downtown and were pretty often, about every ten minutes. But we stopped short as all the trams were lining up at the stop closest to Peyrou. They let us all out and everyone started walking towards the park, some unrolling banners, others just with cameras and smiles in the southern sun. I walked up towards the Jardin des Plantes, in between the Peyrou and the tram, and texted a bunch of friends asking if they were coming. Two girls in my English class told me to wait there for me and they would “teach me proper striking procedure.” As I was waiting a huge group of students from Paul Valery walked by with banners, many of whom I knew. I waved and said hi and they called me to join them. After fairing la bis while walking backward (quite a feat I must admit J) they started shouting “Yes We Can” and that they had an American with them. I told them I’d meet them later but that I was waiting for other friends.
Finally my two French friends showed up and went to one of their apartments to change out of heels (Lesson number one: Wear cute but comfy shoes!) and we walked back to the place where people were gathering. Of course my American friend who was joining us was on the other side of the street under the Arc de Triomphe. It was next to impossible to get to the other side because there were so many people. We had to plow our way through, holding hands to make sure one of us didn’t get trapped. (Lesson two: Always meet somewhere other than the mass meeting point)
After about half an hour of wading through people we finally met, using banners and flags as reference points. And then we waited. And waited. And waited some more. So Marie, one of the French students pulled out a bunch of one sided paper and her and the other French girl made make shift signs of common slogans about education. (Lesson Three: Always have some paper and pens on hand for impromptu signage) But of course we had no way to hold up the signs. So Liza, the other Frenchie, decided to punch a hole through it with her earring and wear it as a REALLY large earring. (Lesson Four: If it’s a strike, nothing looks silly as long as you get your message out)
A little while later we started moving and that's when I really realized how many people were at the rally. (Lesson Five: Don’t get there on time because it will be late) Students were perched on anything within hands reach holding signs and taking pictures. There were thousands of people flooding down the hill into two in all directions singing and using noise makers. A year ago Sarko told the French that no one notices when they go on strike (probably meaning the international media). But as for French noticing it, there’s no way you couldn’t.
The Police projected that there were around 30,000 people demonstrating yesterday while the Unions say it was closer to 40,000. Either way, for such a small city, that’s a crap ton of people. That’s twice more than the population of my hometown. Can you imagine that? (Lesson Six: Never tell the French what they can’t do. They’ll prove you wrong every time.)
So we walked through the city and were asked to sign petitions (don’t worry Mom, I didn’t. No deportation for me!) And sung songs related to the strike taught to us by Liza. By the time we got to La Comedie, I had learned so much about French politics my head was spinning (Lesson Seven: Know your Ministers)
At that point they were going to sit down in front of the Prefecture, the local government that I know so well from doing my Carte de Sejour. I figured I’d had enough for the day so I decided to take a bike home and rest up for a while before going out. But we ended up having a lovely dinner in my room of couscous stew.
I think the Manifestation was the best way to christen my brand new residency permit. It’s called a Titre or Carte de Sejour and it’s a really lengthy process to get your first one. If you’re an American you’re pretty much set in getting it because you’ve probably been vaccinated for everything under the sun and have enough money. The first part is to go start your Dossier, or file, at the Prefecture. For students, there might be another place, such as the Pole Univerisitaire for me! I went there with all my paperwork (which really varies by region, so go to the place where you need to apply and ask for a list of required papers) and made my first Dossier. Then a while later they send you a blue slip. With said slip you go to the Prefecture and pick up your receipt of filing. It’s a piece of paper with your picture on it and is a temporary thing that allows you to work. Then wait a while longer and you’ll get a letter in the mail that gives an appointment for a doctor’s visit.
The weirdest part of it all is the stamp. When you go to your medical visit you must bring with you a 55 Euro stamp that can usually be bought at a Tabac near the medical center. It is never mentioned that you need it; I found out from other Americans that had shown up without it. Not planning on spending that much money while on such a tight budget, I just stared blankly at the American girl who told me for a minute and really freaked her out. Do you really need it? Maybe, maybe not. I’ve heard of people in Paris getting away without it. But here in Montpellier you absolutely must have it. No stamp, no Carte.
The visit is really bizarre and when someone told me it was like an assembly line I laughed. But it’s the truth. You go to the office and they put your file in one bin and stick you in a waiting room. Then a doctor calls you and you go into the office and talk about sexual health, vaccinations (so bring your vaccine sheet) and family history. Then you go back to the waiting room. Then an x-ray tech calls you and they take an x-ray of your lungs to make sure you don’t have TB. It’s really awkward because you have to undress and then press your chest up against a machine and inhale at the right time. Then back to the waiting room. Then the last and final doctor takes a glance at your x-ray and asks you a few questions why you’re there. (Mine asked why the hell I would study English in France.) Then back to the waiting room where you wait for some random person who takes your sheets and stamps them and takes your stamp and sticks it to the papers and give you your Carte. And you’re free! YAY!
The Carte is immensely detailed. I couldn’t even imagine how much a fake one of those costs. Probably a few thousand Euros. But who cares? I have a real one!!
So this free French resident is going to go look for some cheap running sneakers. I think it might be hard but it’s still the soldes (super duper sales which I will write about later) so I might have some luck. I decided that I wouldn’t give up eating gobs of butter with my baguettes but just to start running with Kirsten. Okay, maybe not running for now but probably more like fast walking/jogging. Takes time! And god, I am out of shape. Damn you French Cheese :)
20.1.09
After a few weeks.
So it's been a few weeks since I returned to Montpellier. I have a class a lot less this semester so I hope to blog at least once every other week.
The first few days back were really hard; it was cold here and no one else was back yet and all my French friends were with either their families or with their lovers. Lame I know. They also lost my luggage. So I was unhappy and unclothed. But sure enough, things worked out better and Lukas got to visit for a week and my clothes came that day as well.
Since then I haven't been up to much. Lukas just left on Saturday and we had a good week together and visited a bit more of Montpellier, as I had finals last time he was here. I took him to Rue Bras de Fer, which is my favorite in the whole city, and also has an English bookshop/tea house on it. So we took a peek in and ended up spending a good hour in there looking at books.
English books are super expensive here in France, rounding out at around 12 to 15 euros. Compared with the normal french book between 5 and 10 euros, it makes you want to fly to England to stock up on books. So I didn't look at anything but the used books, knowing I would easily spend around 50 euros. But I did stumble upon a book Lukas has been looking for for a while so I bought it for him as a congratulations present for getting into university (which, come to find out wasn't entirely true due to misinterpreted mail).
But Lukas left on Saturday and now eating dinner alone at night is pretty lonely. So I've been working on my German while preparing meals. I downloaded a podcast from Deutsche Welle over break and it's pretty short but super entertaining. It's like a video game but a radio program. I'm pretty sure they also have other ones for other languages, as it's supported by the European Union, produced in England, and one of the producers is French national radio.
I finished it off this evening and really wish there were more episodes. I also tried to use my real computer (I'm now using an EeePC, which works wonders) to update podcasts but of course, it can't find the internet. I've only got one class tomorrow so while I'm doing homework I'm going to go to the library and try to see if it works in there.
I just got off the phone with the registrar at my home university and I'm trying to get approval for a history class here. Basically how the classes work here is there are two lecture sections on two completely different topics that have nothing to do with each other. The classes are around 3 hours long for each section, adding to around 6 hours for 6 credits. Problem is I need six credits for it to count for my graduation. But it is impossible to do six hours of class in my schedule. So they told me to write an email to the head of the history department. Hopefully they will take pity on my soul.
The classes I'm taking this semester seem to be really a lot more interesting than last semester. I'm taking English again, this time with a Shakespeare TD and the CM is on three different topics. My French class this semester is on Avant Garde Literature, which is SUPER interesting. And then a translation course. I'm thinking of sitting in on German as well but I'm having issues figuring out what is the beginners level class.
But my back is killing me from typig on such a tiny computer so I'm outta here.
The first few days back were really hard; it was cold here and no one else was back yet and all my French friends were with either their families or with their lovers. Lame I know. They also lost my luggage. So I was unhappy and unclothed. But sure enough, things worked out better and Lukas got to visit for a week and my clothes came that day as well.
Since then I haven't been up to much. Lukas just left on Saturday and we had a good week together and visited a bit more of Montpellier, as I had finals last time he was here. I took him to Rue Bras de Fer, which is my favorite in the whole city, and also has an English bookshop/tea house on it. So we took a peek in and ended up spending a good hour in there looking at books.
English books are super expensive here in France, rounding out at around 12 to 15 euros. Compared with the normal french book between 5 and 10 euros, it makes you want to fly to England to stock up on books. So I didn't look at anything but the used books, knowing I would easily spend around 50 euros. But I did stumble upon a book Lukas has been looking for for a while so I bought it for him as a congratulations present for getting into university (which, come to find out wasn't entirely true due to misinterpreted mail).
But Lukas left on Saturday and now eating dinner alone at night is pretty lonely. So I've been working on my German while preparing meals. I downloaded a podcast from Deutsche Welle over break and it's pretty short but super entertaining. It's like a video game but a radio program. I'm pretty sure they also have other ones for other languages, as it's supported by the European Union, produced in England, and one of the producers is French national radio.
I finished it off this evening and really wish there were more episodes. I also tried to use my real computer (I'm now using an EeePC, which works wonders) to update podcasts but of course, it can't find the internet. I've only got one class tomorrow so while I'm doing homework I'm going to go to the library and try to see if it works in there.
I just got off the phone with the registrar at my home university and I'm trying to get approval for a history class here. Basically how the classes work here is there are two lecture sections on two completely different topics that have nothing to do with each other. The classes are around 3 hours long for each section, adding to around 6 hours for 6 credits. Problem is I need six credits for it to count for my graduation. But it is impossible to do six hours of class in my schedule. So they told me to write an email to the head of the history department. Hopefully they will take pity on my soul.
The classes I'm taking this semester seem to be really a lot more interesting than last semester. I'm taking English again, this time with a Shakespeare TD and the CM is on three different topics. My French class this semester is on Avant Garde Literature, which is SUPER interesting. And then a translation course. I'm thinking of sitting in on German as well but I'm having issues figuring out what is the beginners level class.
But my back is killing me from typig on such a tiny computer so I'm outta here.
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