melange des mondes

So, my daddy's here. This is a photo of us at the American Center. I don't really have the time to write much, but I'll just say it is extremely bizarre to have my two worlds meeting like this. Not bad, of course, just like...odd.

Today is Armistice Day for France (Veteran's Day for USA), so we're going to go explore the city and see what's open on this grand holiday. A bientot!

ah, non, c'est un peu court...

Je me souviens. So I can't remember if I had said that I wanted to be Antigone in the final performance for my theatre class, but we got our parts this week. And no, I am not Antigone. Instead, naturally, I am...





Cyrano de Bergerac.



Interessant. You know, in my opinion, it's a logical jump between the two. That was sarcasm. The weirdest part was that after I said I'd like to play Antigone, my professor said, "you know, I never thought of you for Antigone. Not at all." I was like um...okay??? But you thought of me for Cyrano?! Honestly, I'm just really not sure how to take it. I suppose it could be a compliment, but it just seems so odd. In my view of myself, I see Antigone as a pretty logical part for me, but the fact that he didn't even once think of that for me just kind of boggles my mind.

Anyway. I was really upset at first, mostly about not getting to be Antigone, but I think it'll be great. I've always wanted a huge nose. Not.

Off to pack!

partiels, shmartiels

This picture has literally nothing to do with this week, but it reminds me of less stressful times. And it's pretty. That's Liz and I at the amphitheatre at Arles. It was so cool. They still have like big events there. It's crazy.

Anyway. This week was midterms (=partiels), and it was extremely exhausting. Something that was a little strange was that although I didn't really study much/enough for I feel like any of my exams, they all seemed rather okay. There were always a couple of things I just did not know, or forgot, or something, but it was kind of amazing. Because if I study like I did this week for an exam at Williams, guaranteed I'll get like a C. But here, I get the impression that I didn't do too bad. And really, I only need to pass my classes, I don't actually have to do well. Nice.

But yes. A long week. A long, rainy week where the Yankees failed to close out the ALCS twice. Dammit.

MY VACATION HAS STARTED. ALSO I JUST ACCIDENTALLY PLURALIZED (is this a word?!) VACATION BECAUSE IN FRENCH VACATION=VACANCES AND IT IS PLURAL. GAH.

Anyway. Here's my itinerary for the next week-ish:

Tomorrow (Saturday-samedi), 24 October
Arrive in London (after flying to Birmingham then taking a bus from there) around 11pm (which sucks...), where I meet up with the lovely Isa St. Clair. I'll spend the next day and a half-ish with her (totally wish it were more, but I want to go too many places...).

Monday (lundi) 26 October
Fly to Dublin, get in around 3pm (I think?), find my hostel, and explore my homeland. Or, well, the capital. I am stoked. It's been so long since I was last in Ireland, and it'll be the first time that I'm there alone. I don't even know what to expect, but I cannot wait.

Wednesday (mercredi) 28 October
Take a ferry and a coach to Edinburgh. Theoretically. The fricken website, for some stupid reason, won't accept my card or my mom's, so I'm thinking it's just a matter of like international incompatibility. Kind of like what we talked about in French Cultural Patterns--how pretty much a "heterocultural" relationship just won't work, because you'll never understand fully the other. Kind of depressing, I think.
Anyway. I'll be staying with the glorious Tarra Martin in her flat in Edinburgh, and then Mindi, Joy, and Terrence from AUCP will be there also and we'll have a GRANDE FETE for Terrence's TWENTY-FIRST!! Wooo. I'm excited. Also, it'll be my first time in my secondary homeland. I'm not as Scottish (ecossaise!) as I am Irish (irlandaise), but it'll be super cool anyway.

Friday (vendredi) 30 October
After taking a bus from Edinburgh to Glasgow, I'll fly from Glasgow to Paris, where I'll meet up with the MAGNIFIQUE Emanuel. I suppose this is when I'll resume speaking in French (un peu), and we'll tear up the City of Lights. Yes. I am so excited. The 24 hours I had in Paris 3 years ago really didn't quite do it for me. I need more!

And finally,
Sunday (dimanche) 1 November
Take the high-speed train (TGV=train grande vitesse) from Paris Gare de Lyon back to Aix, getting here I think around 3. Or maybe 6. I forget. Whatever. I'll figure it out.

I really should get packing. And a shower would be good. It's very odd to me that I won't see most of my American Center-ites for over a week. Tristesse. But everyone is going off on some wonderful adventures, so it'll be great to come back and hear about it all. And I'm kind of jazzed to be off on my own. It's actually my first time traveling alone. I can't wait.

I'm sure I had more to say about this week. Hmm...

presque la moitie

I really can't believe that I've been here 6 weeks. That boggles my mind. I can't imagine being anywhere but here, and yet in December I'll be leaving. So weird.

Classes this week were excellent, as usual. We watched Jacques Tati's Mon Oncle for my cinema class, which was hilarious and which I could actually follow because there was hardly any dialogue. Awesome. Mon Oncle won the Oscar for best foreign film in like 1958, and the interesting thing about it is that when it was subtitled with English, they didn't even bother to put subtitles for a lot of the dialogue, because it just really didn't matter. And it still won the Oscar. I love it.

In Theatre class, we first wateched the movie version of Cyrano de Bergerac, which was so good. Gerard Depardieu is incredible. The quality of the video was pretty bad, but it in no way took away from the film itself. After, Jean-Claude gave us the script for our final performance, and it looks really cool. There are scenes from: Antigone (Anouilh), Le Bourgeois Gentilhomme (Moliere), Cyrano (Rostand), La Cantatrice Chauve (Ionesco), and Fin de Partie (Beckett). I REALLY want to be Antigone. It's the scene where she's talking to a guard about how she's about to die, and I WANT IT. I'm just afraid that someone else will want it too. Jean-Claude already has ideas of who he thinks should be what, but he's a) not telling us until Tuesday, and b) going to let us have input in the casting also. Eep.

Also, in my rock dance class, I solidified my friendship with a 16-year-old French girl named MaryLou (I know, right?? What the crap kind of French name is MaryLou?? Like, come on) and also may have been hit on by multiple creepy French guys. Their creepitude was somewhat lessened by the fact that they can actually dance so that's pretty cool.

Sidenote: I'm really pleased by the fact that Firefox/Blogger/whoever it is did not mark "creepitude" as spelled wrong. That seriously makes my day.

Anyway. When I got around to the instructor in the dance circle (did I explain this already? The guys stay stationary in a big circle around the room and the girls--"cavalieres"--turn so that every girl dances with every guy), he had me do a turn that we hadn't learned yet, and after I did it, he said, "impeccable! Impeccable!" It made me feel very, very good. And yeah, I'm kind of in love with him. He's approximately my height (maybe even a little shorter...), bald, is probably late 20s, has a slightly emo fashion sense, is an incredible dancer, and is SO SWEET. I can't even handle it. This week was kind of funny because there was another girl that was helping him out, and usually Virginia lets Cyril (the instructor, AKA mon amour) talk and only interjects a little bit to say something specific about what the girls have to do, but this girl was very commanding and kept cutting him off and stealing his thunder and I was personally getting pretty annoyed. MaryLou and I were laughing about the major drama that was going on, so it was good in that we bonded more. But yes. A sucessful class.

Wednesday, I went to see the new Matt Damon movie, The Informant, with my language partner, Claire. There's one cinema here where they show movies in the original version with subtitles in French, which is super awesome for us. The movie was really cool. Matt Damon is an incredible actor, and the story was surprising and interesting but not unbelievable. One of the tristesses de ma vie right now is that the movie Fame is coming to a cinema in Aix but not to the one that shows the original versions. Like, come on. How is that even possible?? I want to live forever, dammit!

Anyway. I hung out with Dave Gorleku from Williams and his friends from the Wellesley program a bunch this week, which was a total blast. It's very different for them, because they're all living in apartments or houses with just other students, as opposed to homestays. It's just a different experience from the one that everyone in my program is having. Neither is necessarily better, it's just interesting.

Okay. Time to get going on studying for Midterms. Yeah. I have like almost-real work. Not okay.
A bientot!

Joyeux anniversaire, maman!

Have a wonderful day.

More later.

vitalite' intellectuelle

This is my school right now. Like, where I have classes. There are palm trees. Word.

Oh, how I wish I could use accents when I type on this thing. It's rather irritating, and it makes that many of the the things I say in French make little to no sense. Whatevs.

This week has been pretty freaking amazing in terms of my classes. I mean, in terms of everything else as well, but it's been a long time since every single one of my classes makes me actually want to do my homework and want to actually try. Sad, I know, but that's kind of what pre-med did to me (and why I'm no longer bothering with it).

My cours d'expression francaise is always a blast. For some reason, every single person (there are 8 girls in the class) becomes totally crazy and giggly every class and Jean-Michel, our professor, just doesn't understand at all. And then he teaches us something that I leave class and start hearing everywhere I go. I'm like, "how the crap do you do that?" It's as if he knows about all the conversations I've had and am about to have which I guess is pretty creepy but like WOW. For example, we had a vocab test (which I majorly bombed...oops) yesterday, and of the words that I actually did know was "se debrouiller," which means "to cope." Literally I left class and went to my community service, which is hanging out with an old lady for 2 hours (more on that later), and Madame Ros used "se debrouiller" in a sentence. Awesome.

Hold on, going to make some tea and get something to eat--STARVING.

Little note on that: I bought myself some Darjeeling today, and I am stoked. My host mother has a box of Lady Grey, but I've been drinking so much of it and starting to feel bad about it, so I figure it's more polite to just use my own tea. Right now I'm legit drinking Darjeeling and eating leftover cooked vegetables while sitting in the dining room looking into the backyard of "Villa St. Jean" (yes, the house I'm living in has a NAME) and at the cat who's lounging on the table just outside.

ANYWAY. So my French expression class is only one of the 5. My cinema class, architecture class, French cultural patterns, all are so interesting (note: sometimes French cultural patterns is snore-central, but this morning we had a really interesting discussion, so I'm hoping that that's just the start of many more!).

My theatre class is fantastic. Jean-Claude has a very interesting way of teaching acting that is partly things I've seen and done before and partly exercises that are fascinating and incredible for building a group and getting to know each other. One of my favorites from last time was when we had to pair up and one person closes her eyes and the other has to lead her around the room by saying "a droite, a gauche, etc." Sounds easy at first, but Jean-Claude, while we had our eyes closed, started placing chairs and things around the room and having the guides manoeuver around them. Those of us in the first group of the blind didn't know this was going to happen, so the reveal was pretty damn cool. When we reversed it, I had to have Leigh (who was my partner, duh) crawl under a chair that was placed on top of two other chairs...and it totally worked. I finished by having her climb on top of a chair. We were a kind of epic team.

So yeah, that's just a little update on how my classes are going.

Yesterday I had my first one-on-one with the "personne agee" with whom I'll be meeting with and talking to for about two hours per week for the rest of the semester. I met her last week, along with a representative from ACLAP (I know, I giggled a little too), which is a group that connects elderly people with students and also does various other things for them of which I'm not entirely sure. My first meeting with Madame Ros made me a little scared, as I was very worried that we wouldn't be able to understand each other. She speaks fast and has a (I think?) Lyonnais accent, and also she has bad hearing, so she can't always hear what I say nor can she understand my beautiful American accent.

Side note: I keep forgetting to capitalize things. The French just do not capitalize. Only for countrys and peoples. For example, we are "les Americains," from "les Etats-Unis," but I have "un accent americain." Yeah. Whatever.

Also, mmm Activia.

Despite my worries about comprehension, I ended up having a wonderful two hours--and even stayed a little longer to have some gateau! Madame Ros and I told each other our life stories--incredibly different and now we've crossed paths; incredible. Her story is heartbreaking, inspiring and fascinating all at the same time. She was orphaned at age 4 in Lyon, put under the care of the state, started working at 13, never had much formal schooling, returned to Lyon around age 21, met her husband, lived happily with him just until I think around 15 years ago, and has been living alone, with only American students, her adopted family (who actually adopted her to be their grandmother. I can hardly comprehend it, but it brings tears to my eyes nonetheless), and all her neighbors (who all adore her) for company. She's pretty old and sick now and can't leave her appartment, but she's incredibly vivacious quand meme. And then she welcomes me into her home, feeds me cake and shows me pictures of her husband, her friends, the previous American students she's had, and more. When I left last night, I wanted to cry and laugh and dance around in the rain and fly to Moscow all at the same time--just writing this now is getting me kind of choked up.

I really can't believe how much this semester is changing me. I know that inside I'm still the same Tess as I was in Williamstown, but here in Aix, I'm living so much and seeing so much and LEARNING so much that the Teresa who returns to my beloved hometown and my beloved college is pretty much guaranteed to be ready to live as much as I do here--something that this past year has prevented me from doing, I really regret to say. I wasn't myself last year. I know this. I was coming back into myself some this summer, but now I really feel that I'm back. And I'm ready for the world. Bring it.

I've got to run and get dressed for dinner on the town with my girls. :) A bientot!

P.S. Sorry for the random, sudden emotional paragraph, this city has just really gotten to me. In the best way possible.

il n'y a pas un mot en francais pour "nerd"

And oh, how appropriate it would be.

Right now I should be doing at least 3 other things, but I did promise a blog update today to multiple people, so here goes.

Saturday I went on another field trip with my program. This time our chaperone was Jean-Do, my cinema and architecture professor, who is ridiculously skinny and hilarious. We left super early (ughh...) to the city of Arles, about an hour from Aix. Arles was a surprisingly important city in the Roman Empire, so there are tons of artifacts from around the 1st century BC (no, I'm not politically correct. What are you gonna do about it?). We went to the museum of Arles, where there are legit sarcophagi and statues of Augustus and things that in my opinion are really freaking cool but the museum was basically empty besides us. I cannot fathom this. Maybe it was an off time? But...Saturday in early October is kind of perfect in Southern France, so I don't really know. Anyway.

We saw the remains of the Circus (not like Ringling Brothers...like, chariot racing), the amphitheater, the baths, and the THEATRE. That's what the picture is of, me on the stage, with the audience behind me. God it was amazing--and there are still productions there today. I must. But yeah so pretty much I was Latin-nerding out all over the place because it was so freaking cool and I couldn't handle it. And no, there really isn't a good word in French for nerd.

It became an extremely hot day and we ended up walking so freaking much that by the time we got back on the bus we were all so freaking tired--though we managed enough energy to play MASH on the way back. I so miss middle school. Kind of.

Saturday night, despite our exhaustion, Liz, Emily, Grace and I went back to the Vietnamese restaurant we love so much and had a ridiculously slap-happy dinner--honestly, I can't really explain it. I blame LA PLEINE LUNE--and went out on the town.

OKAY. I have to go eat and run errands and go to my WINE TASTING class. Oh, France.

joyeux anniversaire a mon papan et gandhi!

The title kind of says it all. Happy birthday to two wonderful men!

garcon

So, yeah. That's Clement. Not Martin, but his best friend. They actually call each other "Papillon." Yes, I did manage--naturally--to find the most adorable/frustrating bromance in France. I have skillz. Kill me.

tout est bien qui finit bien

So. The Luberon. Pretty freaking beautiful. The title of this post is probably pretty easy to figure out, but it's All's Well That Ends Well in French. Which is appropriate, because I WAS FREAKING IN ROUSSILLON AND SHAKESPEARE NERD-ING OUT ALL OVER THE PLACE.

The first town was Lourmarin, which was tiny and had a gorgeous chateau and like a billion fountains. Liz and I wandered around before settling at a cafe, she with her Orangina, and I with my noisette (a little coffee with a little bit of milk or something). After taking stalker photos of our waiter and his man-pris, I bought some pretty jewelry (including Le Coeur de la Mer...seriously...kind of) and we got some little quiches and various lunch items. We then got back on the bus and headed to Bonnieux, which is literally on the top of a mountain. The ride there was slightly--understatement--terrifying, as the little mountain roads of Provence were not created for coach buses. Yeah. Not so pleasant. We made it there alive, and it was totally worth it. This town has a view of what seems like the entire of Provence--including the chateau of the Marquis de Sade. Craaazy--and I took like a million pictures (which I will upload eventually, I promise...yargh). We picnicked in the park of the church at the very very top of the mountain--gorgeous.

Last and certainly not even close to least was Roussillon. Roussillon is most famous for its ochre quarry-ish thing. It was unbelievable. Brilliant orange rocks set against the green of the trees and the perfect blue sky--also, I was wearing mostly blue so those colors looked great in contrast, too. Literally, I felt like I was in the Grand Canyon. Granted, I've never actually been to the Grand Canyon, but I imagine it's a lot like that. We hiked around the quarry for a while--it was really, really cool. After, I got some lavender ice cream--bizarre, because it literally tasted like I was eating the smell of lavender...does that make sense? But it was in no way unpleasant--and wandered aimlessly around the center of town. These little villages are so unbelievably perfect; I kept thinking I was in Chocolat and I could turn a corner and find Johnny Depp coming up the docks (sadly, this did not happen. Though he DOES live in France, so it's more possible...maybe...).

We got back to Aix at around 6:30. I then changed, ate dinner and went to the exhibition Picasso-Cezanne at the Musee Granet with my host sister, Alix. I already talked some about it, but I'll say a little more. This exhibit was incredible. First of all, it was free for us (ballin'!). The Musee Granet always has tons of Cezanne (because he lived a while in Aix), but I guess this year is some sort of anniversary of Picasso's time in Aix, so there have been events all year long. What I really loved was that the museum didn't only show the abstract, "usual" Picasso. We also saw some magnificent paintings by Picasso that at first glance, and in comparison to the rest of the exhibit, seemed to be by Cezanne, just by their delicacy and accuracy. Very cool. Also, we got there just before 9pm, when it was supposed to offically start, and when we left at a little after 10pm, the line outside was absolutely absurd. Probably helped that it was the very last night of the exhibit, but whatever.

Sunday was yet another "Aix, why do you rock so much?" day. There was a random big like garage sale on Cours Sextius, where it seemed like everyone from Aix just brought out all the random stuff they had lying around and sold it at ridiculously awesome prices (e.g. I bought 2 necklaces and a ring, all really beautiful, for 4 euros. What!?!). Liz, Emily and I hung around there for a while, then went a little cafe-hopping. At the first one, in Place Richelme, the son of the waiter was like helping him, and it was probably the most adorable thing I've ever seen in my life. This little boy was wearing almost Harry Potter-like glasses but the frames were red instead and he was super eager and ahhhh soo mignon.

At around 6, I met up with Martin (!!!) so he could, as he put it, "make me a visit of Aix." I already knew a lot about the city, but I pretty much just wanted to see where he would take me. He showed me to the south of Cours Mirabeau--where I like never go--and various other random places. He is like really smart. He knew all these random facts about the city and was telling them all to me in slightly broken but surprisingly good English. He's such a sweetheart. We also discovered that his parent's house isn't at all far from where I live. Kill me. He had to go back to Marseille and is having his housewarming party tomorrow (Friday) night, and I can't go because I have a stupid trip with my Architecture class (okay, I know it won't be stupid, I'm just bitter) and I am very sad. Oh well. When we parted, he was like, "okay, not this weekend, but next weekend! And the one after that!" I almost died. And I made him hug me. I was like, "Americans hug." :-D

Teehee.

degustation de France

I've found it's terribly difficult to have to think back to what I did exactly when and how best to explain it. I guess that's my punishment for taking three weeks to start this friggin' thing that I've been talking about doing since like before I left...awesome.

OK. After a lazy Sunday of homework and sporadic rain storms, I started my first "real" week of classes. There had been some uncertainty about whether the Cinema course would happen or not--it needed at least 5 people, and only 4 were there the first week--but yay for Amanda F, because she decided to enroll, so now I get to watch the most famous French movies and have a glorious time.

Mmm yeah. So, pretty much the same as the week before, but now I'll describe some of my classes more.

French Cultural Patterns, Monday morning at 10h45 with Jean-Michel Cosse. Jean-Michel is an awesome professor, he's really intelligent and above all really understands how much we can understand. He's obviously taught American students a lot. We have another section on Friday mornings with Elodie Buhrle, but it's sooo hard because it's the end of the week, and also I just blatantly disagree with a lot of the things she says in terms of the similarities and differences (okay, really just differences) between Americans and American culture and Frenchies and French culture. But then I'm too tired to say anything about it. Also, I can't really understand most of what she says, as she speaks super fast and uses a ton of words I don't know--super frustrating.

French Oral and Written Expression, Monday afternoon at 14h, also with Jean-Michel. This is probably the most directly useful class. Jean-Michel basically just straightens out the misconceptions of how to and how not to speak French. So many things that I used to say in French that made sense in terms of translation into English just do NOT fly in French. E.g. the adjective "plein/e," meaning "full," should not be said at the end of a meal, when you want to announce that you're too full to each more, as your host mother will probably be sent into a tizzy at the fact that after only 3 weeks in France, you are already pregnant. Instead, tell her, "j'ai deja mange assez, merci." Much better.

French Cinema, Tuesday morning at 9h (oof) with Jean-Dominique Brignoli. Jean-Do is super chouette and seems to know a lot about film. Also, I found out last week that France had the very first movie EVER. What!? How did I not realize this?? Then, a movie was actually a "vue."

Major Scenes in French Theatre, Tuesday afternoon at 15h with Jean-Claude Azoulay (yes, all my professors are Jean-Something. Oh, France). Jean-Claude is a professional actor--he has a show this weekend in Marseille that I'm really going to try to go to--and speaks perfect English--real like English English, not American English. Pretty sweet--and is hilarious and a wonderful teacher. In the 3 hour class (same as Cinema), we spend the first ~1.5 hours discussing plays (last week and this week is Moliere's Le bourgeois gentilhomme), then the remainder playing around like true Theatrettes. It's perfect.

Last is Architecture and Urbanism in Provence, Friday afternoon at 14h, also with Jean-Do. This class, which is pretty much just Art History of Provence, is really fascinating, especially because the focus is on Aix and Marseille, so I can literally leave class and see exactly what he was just talking about--and in fact, this week we're going to spend the last 1/2 hour actually in Aix, EXPERIENCING the Architecture and Urbanism in Provence. Good lord, I love France.

So yes. Those are my classes. They kind of rock.

On Tuesday, I chose my "club" for the semester--I'm going to take classes in "Rock" dance from a group called RockCaliente at Berny's Cafe in eastern Aix. The class last week was SO much fun. I know it sounds kind of conceited, but I figured that whatever beginning level dance class I take would be no problem for me, but I'd struggle with the language a lot. I found out that not only would I have some issues with the language, but that this "rock" dance is not something I'm used to at all and I was already pushed a litte--a very pleasant surprise. Some of the guys there were a bit "louche" (French for creepy. One of my fave words, duh), but in a way that wasn't so bad. And also, even the louches could dance. Now that was a surprise.

After my super chouette dance class, I went out on the town with Emily--starting at Brigand, as usual, then to O'Shannon, also as is our wont, then to IPN, which had Ladies' Night. This meant that if we paid 3 euros to get in, we could have as many champagne-currant syrup drinks as we wanted. Not a bad deal, even for just one. It was quite delicious, too!

After that long, louche-y night, I spend Wednesday catching up on sleep and doing homeworkses chez moi, then I headed to my very first course in Wine Tasting. Note for all:

WINE TASTING IS HARD.

I thought I could be good at it, mostly because I like to think I have a pretty good nose in general, but no. Absolutely false. I would smell the wine, and it would make me think of something, but I could never place the smell. And as for the tasting part? Fail. Total fail.

After another awesome rendez-vous with my language partner, Claire--she is so cool. She works at the Pavillon Noir, which is the "centre choreographique national," aka AWESOME, and she's said that she can get me tickets to the events there. That like makes my life. I wanted to see the Ballet Preljocaj (the dance company) so bad, but I figured I wouldn't be able to afford it. And now, free tickets?!?! So unreal. Also, this is an epic hyphen happening right now--I think I had a quiet night chez moi with my host family. That's also how my nights went for the rest of the week.

So, it's really late now, I'm really exhausted, and I still have a bit of homework to do for tomorrow, so I'm going to cut this off now. Tomorrow or something, I'll write about my trip to the Luberon yesterday (oh man, I am GOOD at this catching up thing), which was pretty damn cool.

Gros bisous!

HILARITY...err...HILARITE'

I can't believe I forgot to mention the best text ever (yes, I still text WAY too much here. Surprise, surprise) that I got from Martin. So he texts me in English and I text him in French, not really sure why. Often this leads to texts from him that make sense but with awkward/awesome connotations.

This was Friday 18 Sept, when it was raining like woah.
Martin: "ok for happy?brigand"
Moi: "Je vraiment veux aller. Quand il pleut un peu moins, j'irai!" (translation: I really want to go. When it's raining a little less, I will go!"
Martin: "Call me when you want to 'start me up'"

Er.....

des cours? vraiment? nah...

D'accord. I just got back from a "sortie" sponsored by the AUCP around the Luberon, which are these gorgeous mountains to the North of Aix that Peter Mayle wrote about in A Year in Provence. We visited the villages of Lourmarin, Bonnieux and Roussillon. I was super excited about the last one, like a true Shakespeare nerd would be, because it's the village where All's Well That End's Well takes place. Eee. Sorry.

Anyway, I'll get to that eventually...I hope...now I'm onto the beginning of my second week in Aix. Okay. Let me attempt to recall...

Monday I started classes. The whole week was an Add/Drop period, so we were advised to go to the first class of all that interested us. We each can take 5 classes, 1 being the required "French Cultural Patterns, 1 being either English-French Translation or French Oral and Written Expression (which I'm in), and the other 3 what we want from the selection.

SIDE NOTE: I JUST WENT TO THE MUSEE GRANET WITH MY HOST SISTER ALIX AND IT WAS SO AWESOME. WE HAD FREE TICKETS (AHH) TO THE EXHIBIT THAT'S CLOSING TOMORROW WHICH IS PICASSO AND CEZANNE AND HOW THEY INFLUENCED EACH OTHER. It was basically Dove-O'Keeffe but bigger and, while my loyalty to the Clark will never be broken, it was better.

ANYWAY. BACK TO WEEK 2.

So I had 4 classes that interested me--Major Scenes in French Theatre, French Cinema, The European Community, and Architecture and Urbanism in Provence. All the classes seemed really cool, but at the end I decided on Theatre (duh), Cinema and Architecture. Sweet.

Other than classes? I spend beaucoup de temps avec Emily and Liz, mes favorites, drinking smoothies and being awesome. Wednesday night, we (just Liz and me at this point? I think?) went to the Brigand (free drinks for girls--what!??) where I met up with Dave Gorleku--yayy Williams abroad. It's so nice to have a little bit of Williams here--and some of his friends from the Wellesley program. After we went to the O'Shannon, where we--really I--made friends with the barman, GABRIEL. Not kidding. He's named after, and resembles, and might as well just BE an angel. Sigh. Most beautiful sight seen thus far in France. Tour Eiffel? Pshaw. Gabriel is where it's at. Vraiment.

Then Martin, Clement, etc. met us at O'Shannon and accompanied us to Scat Club, where we (Martin, Liz and I, pas les autres, parce qu'ils sont lame-os) totally started a dance party. OH and there was the creeper who had been majorly creeping on Liz at O'Shannon's and then appeared at Scat Club too...NOT OKAY.

But yeah pretty sure it was at this point I started kind of falling for Martin--he's way gangly and awkward but he loves to dance, and though he may not be technically very good at it, he's SO eager and adorable about it that I find myself not even caring. So yeah. We stayed there I guess for a wicked long time, because all of a sudden it was like 2:30am and Liz and I had class the next day (she had a 10am, no clue how she managed that), so we said our goodbyes, and I told Martin that we would plan to sortir Friday night.

Thursday around noon, I was walking to the marche (open air market. Incroyable.) that happens Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday every week in Aix, and I saw Gabriel just like randomly on the street (RUE DES CORDELIERS. EPIC STREET. NOT REALLY, I JUST ALWAYS SEEM TO BE THERE.). He approached me and kissed me on the cheeks, and I practically died.

Thursday evening, I went to a salsa class at a place called the Expresso Cafe, which is super far away from like everything. The class itself was really majorly beginning level, and the instructor was kind of annoying. The group itself (not even sure what group it was...) also seemed really disorganized, and I was pretty turned off by the whole thing. I decided like half way through the class that I would search for something else for my "club" for AUCP.

On my way back chez moi, I decided to walk through centre-ville rather than taking the more direct, quicker route, because I had a really good feeling about it. As I passed the Brigand, who should be standing right outside but Martin and Florian. Martin was on the phone, but Florian kissed my cheeks (FAIT LES BISOUS. IT MAKES MORE SENSE IN FRENCH, SO I'M GOING TO SAY IT IN FRENCH FROM NOW ON.) and we chatted a little before I said that I had to go. I then passed by O'Shannon, but Gabriel wasn't there. I was a little distraught. THEN I decided to take a kind of random route, and then I turned a corner and WHO SHOULD BE RIGHT IN FRONT OF ME BUT GABRIEL AGAIN. I SWEAR IT'S LE DESTIN. So yeah. I suppose I discovered my 7th sense (Now, Sara, we're just missing 6th, yeah? Or do we believe Haley Joel and Bruce?): knowing the route to take through Aix to see my boys. Sweet. As soon as I got home, I got a text from Martin that said "rendez vous au brigand!" It was perfect. I didn't go, as I had work for the next day, but I wanted to so bad. So I told him he had to text me the next night, Friday.

Friday there was a horrid, epic thunderstorm that almost prevented me from going out to meet Martin, but finally the rain slowed down and I met him (after like lots of confusion of where he was, because he told me he was at O'Shannon then I got there and no sign of him because he's totally clueless) at O'Neals (the French LOVE IRISH PUBS. IT'S AMAZING), which is just South of Cours Mirabeau. Liz met us there (oh, and Clement, Florian, Mark, Nicolas and Nicolas' girlfriend, Pauline were there too). We ended up dancing there for a while before going back to the Brigand, then going to Cours Sextius. Sextius is a big street semi-close to chez moi that has a bunch of bars and restaurants and stuff. Liz and I wanted to go to IPN, a dance club, mostly because the bathrooms there are FAR nicer than those at Brigand, but it turns out that it's only free for girls. So Martin, who didn't have any money, disappeared, and because of the fact that IPN is like underground (vraiment), there's no service there, so I didn't get his text that he wasn't coming in until much later. Suck.

Saturday a bunch of us from AUCP went out to dinner at a Senegalais restaurant. After I went out with a bunch of the girls, but I was feeling pretty out of it (okay, I'll admit it. Martin hadn't texted me back. I was not happy.). Turns out he wasn't even in Aix, but then Liz and I ended up finding Florian, etc anyway (and Miquel (sp?)--MAJOR CREEPER. TRIED TO KISS ME LIKE THE SECOND WE GOT ON THE DANCE FLOOR AT IPN. I HAD LITERALLY KNOWN HIM FOR 5 MINUTES. I DO NOT THINK SO.) and having a pretty good time. IPN was playing some pretty epic tunes--(including Lady Gaga and 50 Cent)--and was packed.

So yeah. Thus ended my 2nd week in Aix.

side note

Right now I'm sitting in the dining room of my house in Aix with my host sisters dancing crazily around me to the song "Sexy Bitch" by Akon. I love this place. Seriously. Can this get any better?

observez et imitez

So. Sunday in Aix. A gorgeous day, of course, because literally every day of my first week here was absurdly perfect. Went to a fete with my host family (sometimes I might accidentally say "famille d'accueil," just to warn you) at the house of their friends who turned out to be Australian. So, on my first full day in France, I spoke a lot of English. It was weird. I tried speaking with the French people more, but it was just so good to hear some English.

The next morning was my first day at the American Center (that's what AUCP is called in Aix, as it's also for Frenchies to learn English). I met the other students, promptly forgot most of their names and had quite a whirlwind of a day. We had lunch in groups with some French students in Aix. My group was with two guys, Paul and Christophe, and they took us to a restaurant called like "the Bulldogue" or something, which turned out to be a British restaurant. So weird. We all got burgers. Delicious, but not quite how I was expecting my first lunch out in Aix to be.

The rest of the week went pretty smoothly--each morning I walked to the Center with Liz (Huessy, from Vermont), who lives near me in Aix, and whose grandfather (THIS IS SO WEIRD) was friends with my grandmother at Putney School in the 1930s and remained friends for the rest of his life. Like, wtf. Anyway. Each day was pretty long, as we had "French Cultural Patterns" in the morning starting at 9, then Intensive French class in the afternoons that finished at 5:30. Exhausting. It was also SUPER chaud every day, so that was fun.

Thursday night I went to the official going away party for the Australians, as they were returning after 8 months in Aix to Australia the following Tuesday. That was really fun, and I had my first wine!! It was a rose, therefore mild, and quite delicious.

That Friday, we met our language partners. Mine is named Claire, and she's really cool. Unfortunately, that night she was taking a train to Paris, so she couldn't spend the evening with me, like the rest of the partners did. I ended up tagging along with some of the other girls and their partners to a new bar in Aix called "The Wohoo." Not kidding. Kind of wish I were. So it's this "international" bar with all the signs in English and some in French and kareoke in the basement and all in all pretty strange. It was fun for my first night out in Aix, and it was nice to get to know some French people as well as the other American students.

That Saturday, I kind of bummed around chez moi during the day, then went out to dinner with Liz, Emily and Grace. Emily (from Kansas City, KANSAS) and Grace (from Illinois? Right?) both go to Grinnell, and Liz goes to Oberlin. We had a lovely dinner at a Vietnamese restaurant en centre-ville, then we went to the pub O'Shannon, which just happened to be right next door to our restaurant. We were all just planning on having one drink--I had a Guinness, I felt so Irish...in France...er...--then heading home, but then we were approached by Martin and Clement, two French boys who were fascinated by us. They (well, mostly Martin, who was drunk) ended up taking us (though we dwindled to just Emily and me at one point, then just Liz and me at another) on a tour of "the best bars in Aix," as they said, with their friends: Florian--a "Franco-Espagnol musician. Not kidding. Kill me, please--Mark, Martin's sister Margot and maybe someone else, I don't know. Martin kept insisting that we all had to come to his housewarming party in Marseille on "the TWO October! Two October! You hav to come!" We'll see. We exchanged phone numbers and parted ways at the end of the night. But trust me, that's not the last you'll see of Martin, just wait.

ADDED: I can't believe I forgot to mention this, but Martin actually looks like Roger Federer without the weird nose or the tennis skillz. As far as I know. And Clement is short, but beautiful. Pictures soon, I promise. At least of Clement, I don't actually have any of Martin...damn.

Oh yeah, and we finished ended the night at the Wohoo. Again. Good lord.

Ensuite, ma deuxieme semaine.

apres longtemps...

Well, after almost exactly three weeks in Aix-en-Provence, I finally got around to starting a blog. I realized this week how I've been pretty out of touch with my family, and only really contact my friends through the wonder that is Facebook, and that's all without really giving much information about my life here. So, here it goes.
I guess I'll have to take it back to the beginning (it's a very good place to start), with my flight from Newark to Bruxelles to Marseille. After a slight fright on the way to Newark that I was cutting it too close which turned out to be completely unfounded and I ended up having about a 1/2 hour at the gate, I was on my way to France. I typed out this whole saga in an email to my family, and since I'm lazy and tired and it's Friday, I'm just going to copy it and modify it slightly. Apologies. Not reaally.

So I got on the plane in Newark, with a water bottle and a butterfinger bought at a little kiosk in the airport. I found my seat, 25H, which turned out to be an aisle seat. It also happened to be right behind the middle of the plane, where there were bathrooms, so I didn't have any under-the-seat storage, which was a little unnerving. I took out my notebook, my French dictionary, and other things I knew I'd want and just kept them tucked in next to me on the seat. I also for a bit thought I didn't have a personal TV, which was okay, but then I discovered a magical contraption that stored the TV under my seat during takeoff and landing. Cool.

When dinner service came around, I really couldn't understand what the steward was saying when he described the meals, as he had a really heavy Indian accent. There was a beautiful Indian woman, probably early 30s, sitting next to me, so I just waited until she ordered and ordered the same. I wish I had just gone for the Shrimp Curry, because I think I ordered one of the "Western" things. But it's okay, it was fish with gravy and potatoes, along with cucumber something and bread and a brownie for dessert.

The plane had excellent film and TV selections, so I watched the Hangover (starring Bradley Cooper!) and How I Met Your Mother (which my brother and I had literally JUST been talking about in the car). Also, they literally had the entire first season of 24. Awesome. I tried to sleep, but planes are just sooo uncomfortable so that was pretty much a fail.

We got off the plane in Brussels at around 7:45. My plane had docked in Terminal B, and I had to go to Terminal A, so I had to go through Border Control. Let me tell you, this line was absurd. There were probably hundreds of people waiting in front of me. It made me really wish I had made more efforts to get my Irish citizenship, because the EU citizens just breezed by us. Unfair. So to give you a time frame, my flight for Marseille was scheduled to leave at 9:35. I finally got through border control at around 8:50, and by this time I was starting to freak out. Then, I found out that I had to go through a security checkpoint again. This line was even worse. There were more lanes here than at border control, but there were so many people.

My ticket said that the gate would close 15 minutes before departure, so I was starting to get really anxious. When it was my turn, it was already 9:20. Not good. I said to the lady behind the conveyor belt thing, "excuse me, my flight leaves in 15 minutes and--" and she cut me off and said, "well, that's not my fault." I was like AHHHHH

So I zoomed through security. On the other end, I literally put on my shoes and just grabbed everything else, not bothering to put them back on or back in my bag. I followed signs to "GATES A/T" (my gate, I thought, was A58), then could not, for the life of me, find any gate higher than 40. So at this point, I'm really, really freaking out. I ask a woman in a shop where the higher gates were, and she directed me upstairs. I felt pretty stupid at that point. So I found gate 58, and IT WAS THE WRONG GATE. I must have read the wrong number on the TV screen thing. So I dash back to the Departures screen and see that it says A49, and that it's at "Final Call." I just start running. The usually-magical moving walkways going that direction just were not on, typically, so I had to run. I got to the gate, and I saw that a man had just boarded before me, THANK GOD. There was a couple standing in front of the desk and they said, "Marseille?" and the attendant person at the desk said, "Marseille?" and I said, "OUI!" I was panting, I was sweating, it was a hot mess.

So, I made it. AND I had a window seat! It was perfect. But then I fell asleep for most of the flight, just with my head like leaning against the window. Pretty uncomfortable. I woke up just when we started our descent, and looking down I saw the Mediterranean and what I assumed was Marseille.

I deplaned, my luggage came out almost instantly (what?), I didn't have to go through any sort of customs or anything (what!?!?), and my host family was waiting for me right outside the baggage claim. Axel and Babette (my host parents) and Alix (one of my 3 host sisters, age 15) were inside, with Morgane (age 18) and Auriane (age 13) waiting in the car.

We drove from the airport to Sausset, where Babette's parents live, had lunch, found a porcupine in the garden (seriously) then finally got to Aix.

The first moment I saw the "centre-ville" of Aix, I swear, I was sent a sign from God. Lady Gaga's "Eh, Eh" came on the radio. I swear, it was fate. I knew then that I would love the city. Sounds ridiculous, I know, but whatever. Babette drove me around a little, showing me where the sites are--most importantly, the American Center and Cours Mirabeau--then we got to their house. It's gorgeous, of course. I was shown my room, and pretty much the second I sat on my bed, I was completely out for ~18 hours, with a slight break in the middle (not kidding) when I wrote in my journal. It worked out nicely, because when I woke up I was in the French time zone. Word.

OKAY THIS IS A REALLY LONG POST. So I'll break it up a little. Next post will be my first week in Aix. Oh boy. Get ready.