Enjoy:
Sunday, February 17, 2008
"Mais non! C'est Jean Phillipe Mercier!"
I'm trying to find my way around the Catholic University because I have my first class in Genesis/Exodus. I find the staircase marked "i", which is where the room is located. An old woman was entering the staircase and asked me if this was the was where the class was. I said, "yes, are you the professor?" (in French of course) and she turned to me and said, "But no! The professor is Jean-Phillipe Mercier!" She made sure she really pronounced this guys name. It's like I didn't know who Sarkozy was or something... I took two steps back. Apparently I offended her by not knowing who this guy was.
On my way up to the classroom, I tried to think of who this guy was... some suave-looking Theologian who dresses himself in the finest French clothing and can recite Baudelaire without flinching. I walked into the room, which was about the size of an Auditorium, and it was almost full already and the class didn't start for another ten minutes. They were also notably very, very old. However, I just tried to find one of the last available seats so I didn't have to stand.
Finally, the doors opened. I waited for a red carpet, but it never came. In trotted a short man, who I couldn't really see over the heads of the sea of people in front of me. He crossed behind the desk, and I could barely see what looked like a camel's hump going up and down. Finally, he stood onto the podium, revealing his true form. Jean Phillipe Mercier was a 70-year-old version of Danny Deveto with liver spots and below his nasty french comb-over rested coke-bottle sized classes that enlarged his eyes and made him look like a frog. I saw everyone in the class sit up. This was their idol. This was their McJagger.
Froggie hands out the course syllabus and we go over it briefly before he jumps directly into the course. He starts directly with Genesis, and the first thing I notice is how animated he is. He pauses at the end of every sentence like a punchline. And surely enough--his audience laughs.
When speaking about the Garden of Eden, he became a little bit vulgar. "So, God lets Adam hang out in his junk yard. 'Yeah, man, you can mess with anything you'd like, just watch out for the electric fence.' Adam says okay but one day, he has a little too much pressed cider and Adam goes and pisses on the electric fence. What an asshole!" Everyone in the class roars at this. The nuns are looking up doughy-eyed, as if they're hair hoppers from the fifties staring at the Fonz , and the priests and seminarians seem to be taking notes (on how to be cool).
When he turns to write Hebrew on the board, I swear I saw one of the nuns throw her delicates to the front of the room. This man was clearly a fan-favorite amongst the clergy of Lyon. His intelligence and wit made everyone melt around him. I bet there wasn't one woman in that room who wouldn't have given up her vows for seven minutes in Jean Phillipe Mercier's heaven, if you know what I mean...
We begin with the genealogy, you know... Abraham and Sarah and all their children and their children's children. I'm reminded why I've put off my Genesis studies until now. Jean Phillipe Mercier, however, is making huge jokes about how many years pass from generation:
"That means when Sarah finally has a kid, she's about 700 years old. That must have been some very, very nasty sex. I don't imagine that their neighbors enjoyed it either! Imagine the smells emanating from that apartment! Merde!"
The class moves along at the same pace until the end. We're all quite exhausted by this guys energy and he has worked up a sweat not unlike the artists Meatloaf. And when the class finally finishes, I pack up my books to go talk to the professor (because I'm a foreign student, and I want to introduce myself to him so that he'll have sympathy on my situation). But, I'm halted by a line of people (apparently waiting for an autograph after that performance).
I didn't have time for this. It's time for "The Bible and Violence" class. This conversation will have to wait 'til next time.
And until next time, you'll have to enjoy that brilliantly crafted story of Jean Phillipe Mercier.
The End
On my way up to the classroom, I tried to think of who this guy was... some suave-looking Theologian who dresses himself in the finest French clothing and can recite Baudelaire without flinching. I walked into the room, which was about the size of an Auditorium, and it was almost full already and the class didn't start for another ten minutes. They were also notably very, very old. However, I just tried to find one of the last available seats so I didn't have to stand.
Finally, the doors opened. I waited for a red carpet, but it never came. In trotted a short man, who I couldn't really see over the heads of the sea of people in front of me. He crossed behind the desk, and I could barely see what looked like a camel's hump going up and down. Finally, he stood onto the podium, revealing his true form. Jean Phillipe Mercier was a 70-year-old version of Danny Deveto with liver spots and below his nasty french comb-over rested coke-bottle sized classes that enlarged his eyes and made him look like a frog. I saw everyone in the class sit up. This was their idol. This was their McJagger.
Froggie hands out the course syllabus and we go over it briefly before he jumps directly into the course. He starts directly with Genesis, and the first thing I notice is how animated he is. He pauses at the end of every sentence like a punchline. And surely enough--his audience laughs.
When speaking about the Garden of Eden, he became a little bit vulgar. "So, God lets Adam hang out in his junk yard. 'Yeah, man, you can mess with anything you'd like, just watch out for the electric fence.' Adam says okay but one day, he has a little too much pressed cider and Adam goes and pisses on the electric fence. What an asshole!" Everyone in the class roars at this. The nuns are looking up doughy-eyed, as if they're hair hoppers from the fifties staring at the Fonz , and the priests and seminarians seem to be taking notes (on how to be cool).
When he turns to write Hebrew on the board, I swear I saw one of the nuns throw her delicates to the front of the room. This man was clearly a fan-favorite amongst the clergy of Lyon. His intelligence and wit made everyone melt around him. I bet there wasn't one woman in that room who wouldn't have given up her vows for seven minutes in Jean Phillipe Mercier's heaven, if you know what I mean...
We begin with the genealogy, you know... Abraham and Sarah and all their children and their children's children. I'm reminded why I've put off my Genesis studies until now. Jean Phillipe Mercier, however, is making huge jokes about how many years pass from generation:
"That means when Sarah finally has a kid, she's about 700 years old. That must have been some very, very nasty sex. I don't imagine that their neighbors enjoyed it either! Imagine the smells emanating from that apartment! Merde!"
The class moves along at the same pace until the end. We're all quite exhausted by this guys energy and he has worked up a sweat not unlike the artists Meatloaf. And when the class finally finishes, I pack up my books to go talk to the professor (because I'm a foreign student, and I want to introduce myself to him so that he'll have sympathy on my situation). But, I'm halted by a line of people (apparently waiting for an autograph after that performance).
I didn't have time for this. It's time for "The Bible and Violence" class. This conversation will have to wait 'til next time.
And until next time, you'll have to enjoy that brilliantly crafted story of Jean Phillipe Mercier.
The End
Sunday, February 3, 2008
Family, Initiation of Movie Sunday, New Semester... in 20 seconds
So the internet has been more a luxury than an actual feature of living with a host family lately. For that reason, I haven’t been able to blog. Also, since my host my mom needs the office, here are the highlights in twenty seconds.
Over Christmas, my family came and visited. It was a lot of fun! We were in Paris for a while, seeing Art Museums and the Eiffel Tower and such. Then, we came back to Lyon were I got sick. However, it was still a fun trip and I’m happy that my parents are planning another trip, probably to Italy, for an upcoming summer.
Since then, my friends and I have initiated what is known as movie Sunday. As there is rarely anything else to do on a Sunday, my friends and I got to the movie theatre and indulge ourselves with English-speaking movies. There has been far too much French lately and this provides ourselves with a little comfort. Hooray.
I finally got my classes set for next semester this past Thursday. Yep, the French do wait til the last minute because the new semester starts Monday. I’m taking three philosophy and three theology classes: all in French. And here’s the kicker—four day weekend every weekend! Monday and Friday, no classes. I’m not the only one, too. Amy and Amanda will also have that schedule, which will provide the three of us with time to travel every week.
Yes, you can take this time to be jealous.
In other news, my friend Kate got a job at a bar, so we’ve been hanging out there a lot. Mostly drinking coffee because she works during the day.
I will probably post pictures, etc. Soon. There was a giant breakfast party at my friend Wayland’s place and I’ve also cut my hair. So look for more… soon?
Over Christmas, my family came and visited. It was a lot of fun! We were in Paris for a while, seeing Art Museums and the Eiffel Tower and such. Then, we came back to Lyon were I got sick. However, it was still a fun trip and I’m happy that my parents are planning another trip, probably to Italy, for an upcoming summer.
Since then, my friends and I have initiated what is known as movie Sunday. As there is rarely anything else to do on a Sunday, my friends and I got to the movie theatre and indulge ourselves with English-speaking movies. There has been far too much French lately and this provides ourselves with a little comfort. Hooray.
I finally got my classes set for next semester this past Thursday. Yep, the French do wait til the last minute because the new semester starts Monday. I’m taking three philosophy and three theology classes: all in French. And here’s the kicker—four day weekend every weekend! Monday and Friday, no classes. I’m not the only one, too. Amy and Amanda will also have that schedule, which will provide the three of us with time to travel every week.
Yes, you can take this time to be jealous.
In other news, my friend Kate got a job at a bar, so we’ve been hanging out there a lot. Mostly drinking coffee because she works during the day.
I will probably post pictures, etc. Soon. There was a giant breakfast party at my friend Wayland’s place and I’ve also cut my hair. So look for more… soon?
Sunday, December 9, 2007
Get out of my city, Jerks
This week was interesting, to say the least. Monday, I brought in cookies to my class. They were peanut butter chocolate chip-my mama’s recipe. It was a gesture of friendship and I pulled it off quite well. I got invited to my friend Beibei’s for dinner with a couple others. It was nice because there Anti-Americanism is starting to run heavy in Lyon due to many of the political and educational decisions. I’m glad people are looking beyond that with me.
To explain further, some of the strikes at the public school are happening due to changes that will turn the socialized education system more “capitalistic.” My friend Kathryn, who is an obvious candidate to be a victim of Anti-Americanism with her short blonde hair, got spit on when trying to get to class this week while the students shouted, “They’re trying to turn us into you!” She was pretty disturbed. For the most part, the French have showed no signs of anti-Americanism up to this point. It’s been mostly the international students at the Catholic University who have provided those problems for me.
Tuesday night, salsa night, my friend Ima Young (yep, you can laugh at that one) who is from Korea and Y Chang, Taiwan, came out with us. It was a lot of fun but I think they were having fluidity problems. And there was one step that the professor tried to teach him for half an hour and he just stood, terrified. I would say I felt bad, but watching his discomfort made my evening wonderful. Yeah, I’m a jerk.
Wednesday, I finally got to see the new Bob Dylan movie. All new movies are released on Wednesdays in France because the kids don’t have school. Fortunately for me, I rarely ever go see movies that would be popular and thus, despite the fact that it was the first showing, there were like 5 other people in the Theatre. The music was amazing—especially Calexico’s cover of “Goin’ to Acapulco” and Antony and the Johnson’s cover of “Knockin’ on Heaven’s door.” Performances were strong, but the Richard Gere parts seemed really forced. Overall, it was excellent. It got horrible reviews in France—which is to be expected because there are years and years of American music history packed into the movie, along with subtle political references. Additionally, a decent grasp of Dylan’s discography is needed to really appreciate the order of things.
I'm Not There
Thursday marked the beginning of the Fete de Lumieres, (The festival of lights). It also marked the beginning of me being really frustrated with tourists.
It’s really popular. In fact, people come from all around Europe to come check out our cool light festival, which is literally the span of the entire city with different events that go from Thursday night to Sunday night. Because of this event, (which is totally awesome by itself), the metros were free and millions of people flooded the streets of Lyon. At the same time, someone thought it would be a good idea to start going on strike. So, with slow metros and millions of strangers in my city, I had to wait nearly a half an hour to get on the stupid metro. What normally takes me about 15 minutes is now taking me 45 minutes. GET OUT OF MY CITY, JERKS. I pay to use that metro and you are just trashing it and slowing it down.
Okay, now that I got that out of the way. Thursday night, I went out with a large group of people to see the fete. There was a lot of stuff to see, namely a gigantic ball of color that was flooded with light from every direction, making the surrounding buildings really beautiful and colorful. In the Croix Rousse neighborhood, there were green bulbs in the streetlights, surrounded by red Christmas lights lining lots of trees. There has also been the most enormous Ferris wheel I’ve ever seen staked out in Lyon for the past couple days. In Bellecour, they turned the statue of Louis XIV into a giant snow globe, with fake snow being blown around inside and falling down on top of him. I couldn’t help but wonder if that was one of his final requests.
The Opera House
Hotel de Ville
Place de Terreaux
Place de Terreaux
Cordelliers
Ferris Wheel in Bellecour
Louis XIV Snow globe
Rue Victor Hugo
Place Carnot
Croix-Rousse
Rue de la Republique
Moving Industrial Exhibit
Guillotiere, river-side
Bellecour, river-side
I walked way too far on Thursday night and didn’t get much sleep for Friday. Needless to say, my body completely shut down from Friday night to Saturday night. I went home early on Friday night because I was tired and I ached everywhere. I slept until 11, ate a little food, and stayed in bed until 5 on Saturday. I finally feel rejuvenated though after getting some much needed rest. I’ve been pushing myself a little hard in the physical realm because I just want to see this city so much; I am walking nearly half of my day away outside. I can still do that, but I really need to proceed with caution.
Saturday, I went to Beibei and An’s house for dinner. There was sushi and spicy Chinese fondue. It was the first time I had tasted spice in nearly 4 months and it was so HOT. But it was absolutely wonderful and it was good to share stories with others about our country at home.
SPICY
Yi-wen, An
Stupid American with a fork, Yi-wen, An, Beibei
Afterwards, we went out for the Fete and there were even more people out on Saturday than there were on Thursday. It took forever to get anywhere. However, it was really nice to hang out with everyone and just walk slowly. Since I had already seen everything Thursday night, I wasn’t in any rush.
Me and Yi-wen
Today (Sunday) will also be very relaxed. I’m going to go for a walk in the park, but I’ll keep it short. I will be pacing myself in the next couple days.
Hope that the Christmas season is bringing cheer wherever you are, my friends. Much love.
To explain further, some of the strikes at the public school are happening due to changes that will turn the socialized education system more “capitalistic.” My friend Kathryn, who is an obvious candidate to be a victim of Anti-Americanism with her short blonde hair, got spit on when trying to get to class this week while the students shouted, “They’re trying to turn us into you!” She was pretty disturbed. For the most part, the French have showed no signs of anti-Americanism up to this point. It’s been mostly the international students at the Catholic University who have provided those problems for me.
Tuesday night, salsa night, my friend Ima Young (yep, you can laugh at that one) who is from Korea and Y Chang, Taiwan, came out with us. It was a lot of fun but I think they were having fluidity problems. And there was one step that the professor tried to teach him for half an hour and he just stood, terrified. I would say I felt bad, but watching his discomfort made my evening wonderful. Yeah, I’m a jerk.
Wednesday, I finally got to see the new Bob Dylan movie. All new movies are released on Wednesdays in France because the kids don’t have school. Fortunately for me, I rarely ever go see movies that would be popular and thus, despite the fact that it was the first showing, there were like 5 other people in the Theatre. The music was amazing—especially Calexico’s cover of “Goin’ to Acapulco” and Antony and the Johnson’s cover of “Knockin’ on Heaven’s door.” Performances were strong, but the Richard Gere parts seemed really forced. Overall, it was excellent. It got horrible reviews in France—which is to be expected because there are years and years of American music history packed into the movie, along with subtle political references. Additionally, a decent grasp of Dylan’s discography is needed to really appreciate the order of things.
I'm Not ThereThursday marked the beginning of the Fete de Lumieres, (The festival of lights). It also marked the beginning of me being really frustrated with tourists.
It’s really popular. In fact, people come from all around Europe to come check out our cool light festival, which is literally the span of the entire city with different events that go from Thursday night to Sunday night. Because of this event, (which is totally awesome by itself), the metros were free and millions of people flooded the streets of Lyon. At the same time, someone thought it would be a good idea to start going on strike. So, with slow metros and millions of strangers in my city, I had to wait nearly a half an hour to get on the stupid metro. What normally takes me about 15 minutes is now taking me 45 minutes. GET OUT OF MY CITY, JERKS. I pay to use that metro and you are just trashing it and slowing it down.
Okay, now that I got that out of the way. Thursday night, I went out with a large group of people to see the fete. There was a lot of stuff to see, namely a gigantic ball of color that was flooded with light from every direction, making the surrounding buildings really beautiful and colorful. In the Croix Rousse neighborhood, there were green bulbs in the streetlights, surrounded by red Christmas lights lining lots of trees. There has also been the most enormous Ferris wheel I’ve ever seen staked out in Lyon for the past couple days. In Bellecour, they turned the statue of Louis XIV into a giant snow globe, with fake snow being blown around inside and falling down on top of him. I couldn’t help but wonder if that was one of his final requests.
The Opera House
Hotel de Ville
Place de Terreaux
Place de Terreaux
Cordelliers
Ferris Wheel in Bellecour
Louis XIV Snow globe
Rue Victor Hugo
Place Carnot
Croix-Rousse
Rue de la Republique
Moving Industrial Exhibit
Guillotiere, river-side
Bellecour, river-sideI walked way too far on Thursday night and didn’t get much sleep for Friday. Needless to say, my body completely shut down from Friday night to Saturday night. I went home early on Friday night because I was tired and I ached everywhere. I slept until 11, ate a little food, and stayed in bed until 5 on Saturday. I finally feel rejuvenated though after getting some much needed rest. I’ve been pushing myself a little hard in the physical realm because I just want to see this city so much; I am walking nearly half of my day away outside. I can still do that, but I really need to proceed with caution.
Saturday, I went to Beibei and An’s house for dinner. There was sushi and spicy Chinese fondue. It was the first time I had tasted spice in nearly 4 months and it was so HOT. But it was absolutely wonderful and it was good to share stories with others about our country at home.
SPICY
Yi-wen, An
Stupid American with a fork, Yi-wen, An, BeibeiAfterwards, we went out for the Fete and there were even more people out on Saturday than there were on Thursday. It took forever to get anywhere. However, it was really nice to hang out with everyone and just walk slowly. Since I had already seen everything Thursday night, I wasn’t in any rush.
Me and Yi-wenToday (Sunday) will also be very relaxed. I’m going to go for a walk in the park, but I’ll keep it short. I will be pacing myself in the next couple days.
Hope that the Christmas season is bringing cheer wherever you are, my friends. Much love.
Sunday, December 2, 2007
A Beaujolais weekend
Sure, I drink lots of wine in France. That goes without saying—it’s hard to go a day without having a glass when most restaurants serve it with lunch and dinner. It seems almost king of silly to me, at this point, to think that it might be strange to order a glass of wine with lunch back in the states. It will be a hard habit to kick.
However, that being said, the past few weekends have been wine crazy. Allow me to explain. Almost every weekend here in Lyon, there is some crazy event going on. For the past couple weeks, there have been celebrations of the new Beaujolais harvest. Beaujolais, as you might have guessed, is a region in France that is right above Lyon. The wine, by all accounts, is horrible. It’s often sweet, yet dry. The consistency is nothing to write home about… it’s not my cup of tea. That being said, the French hate Beaujolais. But there is one redeeming quality of the wine: it’s cheap. Yes, it’s remarkably cheap and that means it will be popular amongst at least one group of people: the capricious youth.
So, pretty much every university and international organization has had some sort of Beaujolais release party in the past two weeks. I’ve been to three now—but probably the best Beaujolais stories were created this weekend.
Friday night, I got dragged to what I suspected was going to be an awkward wine and cheese party by one of my Japanese friends. However, for a 6 euro ticket, one could drink as much wine as they could handle and eat plenty of cheese. Additionally, there was a Rockabilly group that performed live. It was quite funny because they were French and their lead singer was doing his damnedest to pronounce the “H” in “Hey, everybody.” Needless to say, there is not enough wine in the Beaujolais region to make this evening not awkward, so we did our best.
What started out as an evening debating over cinematic genius (the source of the argument was over Fellini and Goddard), turned into a wild dance party. After a few glasses of wine, we were up there singing “around the clock tonight” and plenty of old Johnny Cash tunes. It was clear that to the rest of the crowd that we were Americans and we appreciated people trying hard to recreate our music history.
I left that night quite satisfied with my dose of Americanism. I went to Salsa with Amy. We sat and talked a bit, danced a few rounds and headed home. We had a long day to follow.
Saturday, I met up with nearly everyone in the Oregon group to go on a trip to the Beaujolais region itself to check out some vineyards and talk with some horticulturists. They taught us how to examine wine (if you would like to recreate this scenario, I would suggest watching sideways in French), and fed us some specialties of the region—including the most magnificent fresh bread. They all sent us home with a loaf, too.
The farm area was gorgeous. It was a dark and cloudy day, and in the valleys, the vines were clouded in a thick fog. I desperately wanted to play hide and go seek—but many of my American companions deemed this too elementary of an idea. So, in lieu of running around a vineyard, I enjoyed the subtle pleasure of pressing the warm soft bread against my face. It smelled like an unsalted pretzel. It was wonderful!
Finally, we returned back to Lyon in the early evening. A bunch of us met up in my friend’s apartment to watch some American Television and enjoy some Ile Flotante (a special French dessert that I discovered a few weeks ago).
The weekend was nice and slow-paced compared to the past few weekends. I’ve managed to get home at a decent hour every night! The rest of the week has been nice, too. I started watching La Maison Blanche (The West Wing). I believe it’s the fifth season I’m watching. It doesn’t interest me too much, but it reminds me of a good friend back in St. Louis. I think she’ll be happy to know I’m watching it.
Things are remarkably wonderful in France. Everything is Christmas-lit right now, in preparation for a grand celebration next week. There is a large festival of lights that goes all night long next week and the entire city stays out to look at the animation projected on large walls, etc. The metros have replaced their lights with pink and blue bulbs to prepare for it. Christmas is in the air and I’m getting excited to see my family.
I hear my host mom calling for lunch, so I must leave you here my friends. I miss all of you during this season, but I wish you good luck near finals and lots of relaxation with your loved ones. Ciao!
However, that being said, the past few weekends have been wine crazy. Allow me to explain. Almost every weekend here in Lyon, there is some crazy event going on. For the past couple weeks, there have been celebrations of the new Beaujolais harvest. Beaujolais, as you might have guessed, is a region in France that is right above Lyon. The wine, by all accounts, is horrible. It’s often sweet, yet dry. The consistency is nothing to write home about… it’s not my cup of tea. That being said, the French hate Beaujolais. But there is one redeeming quality of the wine: it’s cheap. Yes, it’s remarkably cheap and that means it will be popular amongst at least one group of people: the capricious youth.
So, pretty much every university and international organization has had some sort of Beaujolais release party in the past two weeks. I’ve been to three now—but probably the best Beaujolais stories were created this weekend.
Friday night, I got dragged to what I suspected was going to be an awkward wine and cheese party by one of my Japanese friends. However, for a 6 euro ticket, one could drink as much wine as they could handle and eat plenty of cheese. Additionally, there was a Rockabilly group that performed live. It was quite funny because they were French and their lead singer was doing his damnedest to pronounce the “H” in “Hey, everybody.” Needless to say, there is not enough wine in the Beaujolais region to make this evening not awkward, so we did our best.
What started out as an evening debating over cinematic genius (the source of the argument was over Fellini and Goddard), turned into a wild dance party. After a few glasses of wine, we were up there singing “around the clock tonight” and plenty of old Johnny Cash tunes. It was clear that to the rest of the crowd that we were Americans and we appreciated people trying hard to recreate our music history.
I left that night quite satisfied with my dose of Americanism. I went to Salsa with Amy. We sat and talked a bit, danced a few rounds and headed home. We had a long day to follow.
Saturday, I met up with nearly everyone in the Oregon group to go on a trip to the Beaujolais region itself to check out some vineyards and talk with some horticulturists. They taught us how to examine wine (if you would like to recreate this scenario, I would suggest watching sideways in French), and fed us some specialties of the region—including the most magnificent fresh bread. They all sent us home with a loaf, too.
The farm area was gorgeous. It was a dark and cloudy day, and in the valleys, the vines were clouded in a thick fog. I desperately wanted to play hide and go seek—but many of my American companions deemed this too elementary of an idea. So, in lieu of running around a vineyard, I enjoyed the subtle pleasure of pressing the warm soft bread against my face. It smelled like an unsalted pretzel. It was wonderful!
Finally, we returned back to Lyon in the early evening. A bunch of us met up in my friend’s apartment to watch some American Television and enjoy some Ile Flotante (a special French dessert that I discovered a few weeks ago).
The weekend was nice and slow-paced compared to the past few weekends. I’ve managed to get home at a decent hour every night! The rest of the week has been nice, too. I started watching La Maison Blanche (The West Wing). I believe it’s the fifth season I’m watching. It doesn’t interest me too much, but it reminds me of a good friend back in St. Louis. I think she’ll be happy to know I’m watching it.
Things are remarkably wonderful in France. Everything is Christmas-lit right now, in preparation for a grand celebration next week. There is a large festival of lights that goes all night long next week and the entire city stays out to look at the animation projected on large walls, etc. The metros have replaced their lights with pink and blue bulbs to prepare for it. Christmas is in the air and I’m getting excited to see my family.
I hear my host mom calling for lunch, so I must leave you here my friends. I miss all of you during this season, but I wish you good luck near finals and lots of relaxation with your loved ones. Ciao!
Sunday, November 18, 2007
Strikes: The National Sport of France
I don't know how many articles mention the word "Greves" (strikes) when you open the newspaper in here. It must be more than half. It must be said that everyone in this country is on strike right now.
The most devastating is the SNCF (train) strikes, which are keeping most of us from traveling. You see, back when running a train was a really hard, physical job involving coal shoveling and lots of danger, the workers used to get a break. To retire with full pension from the government in this country, you need to work a full forty years--not a day less. The train workers used to only have to work 37.5 years (I have no idea where they got that number), but that changed in the past year because the trains are electric and quite easy to run.
However, many of the workers are quite pissed that they will be working an extra 2 1/2 years, so I guess they started their retirement early by striking. So, although some trains are running, most are late or not moving at all. This country is at a stand still and it kind of sucks--I can only hope this all clears up before my parents get here. I'm sure it will...
Good job, guys.
Additionally, the students are on strike as well. I'm not sure what they have to complain about--seeing as a university education only costs them 200 euros a semester. That being said, I guess there were some reforms that they were not happy with. As a result, all my friends who have class at Lyon 2 (the university I opted not to go to because they have no Philosophy courses), haven't had class for a few days because the students are blocking the campus. Apparently it's kind of a big deal--they stack desks, chairs, etc up to the top of the 20-foot doorway and if anyone goes near them, they tackle them to the ground.
I'm safe and secure at my private school away from that stuff. I will continue to have classes even if Lyon 2 shuts down permanently, I will be safe in my school from the drama. That being said--it would have been nice to get a couple days off.
Also, I hear the Hollywood writers are on strike in Hollywood. You may all find this silly until you hear that lawyers, (one of the best paying jobs in France), are also on strike. Yep, they want more money, too. The inherent socialism in France's politics/social system has driven this country into so much debt--and it also makes people think that the government owes them something. For once, it's not looking so good.
These people mean business
Everyone else is striking, too. It doesn't really impress anyone at this point. Oh well, as long as I can get my baguette for the day and I can get to school just fine, I'm a happy camper.
The most devastating is the SNCF (train) strikes, which are keeping most of us from traveling. You see, back when running a train was a really hard, physical job involving coal shoveling and lots of danger, the workers used to get a break. To retire with full pension from the government in this country, you need to work a full forty years--not a day less. The train workers used to only have to work 37.5 years (I have no idea where they got that number), but that changed in the past year because the trains are electric and quite easy to run.
However, many of the workers are quite pissed that they will be working an extra 2 1/2 years, so I guess they started their retirement early by striking. So, although some trains are running, most are late or not moving at all. This country is at a stand still and it kind of sucks--I can only hope this all clears up before my parents get here. I'm sure it will...
Good job, guys.Additionally, the students are on strike as well. I'm not sure what they have to complain about--seeing as a university education only costs them 200 euros a semester. That being said, I guess there were some reforms that they were not happy with. As a result, all my friends who have class at Lyon 2 (the university I opted not to go to because they have no Philosophy courses), haven't had class for a few days because the students are blocking the campus. Apparently it's kind of a big deal--they stack desks, chairs, etc up to the top of the 20-foot doorway and if anyone goes near them, they tackle them to the ground.
I'm safe and secure at my private school away from that stuff. I will continue to have classes even if Lyon 2 shuts down permanently, I will be safe in my school from the drama. That being said--it would have been nice to get a couple days off.
Also, I hear the Hollywood writers are on strike in Hollywood. You may all find this silly until you hear that lawyers, (one of the best paying jobs in France), are also on strike. Yep, they want more money, too. The inherent socialism in France's politics/social system has driven this country into so much debt--and it also makes people think that the government owes them something. For once, it's not looking so good.
These people mean businessEveryone else is striking, too. It doesn't really impress anyone at this point. Oh well, as long as I can get my baguette for the day and I can get to school just fine, I'm a happy camper.
Saturday, November 17, 2007
Carnac and Mont St. Michel... finally
I understand that it’s been a long time since I’ve posted. I assure you that this delay is a result of 100% laziness on my part. It’s not like there wasn’t anything interesting that happened—but I had lost my sense of wit and didn’t feel like expressing what’s been happening without it. Although it may still be gone, I assure you this entry will be much more interesting than if I had written it a couple of weeks ago. You can thank me later.
So, I have been back in school for two weeks now after my trip to Carnac and Mt. St. Michel. It was a really remarkable trip—one of the best ever—and it has made my return to this great city quite interesting. I am much closer to my travel buddies (Amy and Amanda) and also to people around me. I think it put me in a good mood—which Esther (the girl who lives with me), is very thankful for. No more sassy Trevor.
We started our trip on a Tuesday morning, very early. We had only purchased our tickets to Rennes and back, and thought we’d leave the details to the trip up to the fate of the train system. Turned out that this was by far the best way to travel—to find a port city and just go from there.
On the train, we decided that I was going to cut my trip short early because I had an unprecedented amount of homework to do and a party to catch on Friday night. So, we made a list of priorities—starting with the stuff I wanted to do because I would be returning Friday whereas Amy and Amanda would be returning on Sunday. On the train, we made the decision that we would go to Carnac, then travel to Mt. Saint Michel, where I would leave on Friday morning and they would continue onto the Normandy beaches. Sorry to say it, but WWII stuff takes backseat to my gigantic Catholic castle.
So, after our four-hour train to Rennes, we purchased all our tickets for the remainder of our trip and hopped on a train to Auray. From there—a 45 minute bus ride to Carnac. Carnac is a small village that is often visited for the sea because it has a really nice port considering many of the Northern beaches are mucked up with tons of gray sand away from land—which makes it difficult to own boats. Beyond that, however, Carnac is one of the oldest Megaliths sites in the world. Gigantic rock formations that pre-date Stonehenge line the streets of Carnac for miles and miles.
We arrived at around 4 in the afternoon after a day on the trains. We found a store to buy chips and salsa and we sat and watched the sunset at the rocks. It wasn’t too cold at that point and it was nice to just sit and relax since none of us were sitting together on the train. Afterwards, Amy was feeling kind of ill so she returned to the hotel while Amanda and I ate at a nice little Italian restaurant. It was warm and cozy and there was this really scraggly dog that was walking to all the tables and visiting the guests. The food was great, the company was great, and it was a nice evening.
SALSA: Amy was incredulous
Megaliths at sunset
Peek-a-boo
Amy was feeling better after dinner, so she met up with us for Crepes. Crepes are the specialty of the north and, much to the dismay of Amanda, I wasn’t really looking to try them as a formal meal—only desert. So we went, Amanda ordered a crepe with Chantilly, caramel, apples, whipped cream, etc. Amy had the house specialty—sugar, butter, and caramel. I had the dark chocolate with vanilla ban ice cream. What can I say—I’m a classic kind of guy.
Amanda with her Chantilly madness
I'm a chocolate monster
We went to bed early that evening in a bed that was firmer than the floor for some reason (consult the video on Facebook), but in a hotel room that was the best room we’ve been in since we got to France. It was big, private LARGE bathroom that even had a footbath because it was close to the sea. It wasn’t too pricey either—which is nice because it’s generally an expensive area.
The next morning we got up early, threw our bags on our backs, and began what would be one of the longest hikes any of us had ever taken. We walked about 15-18 kilometers that day along side the Megaliths, up and down hills, through paths. It was so beautiful outside and the downtown area was quite charming because all the buildings are old and quite homogenous. It was a wonderful day filled with walking, reflecting, great Pizza, and of course—another train.
Charming little pathway
Church on the hill
Beautiful field we spent some time in
The church on the hill, again
We were pretty alone out there...
Awesome shot of the tree and the sun!
The travelers smile for a Kodak moment
This time, going back to Rennes, we had about five minutes between connecting trains. So, we sprinted over to the monitor to see where our train was departing, then sprinted and barely made the train. Naturally, all the good seats were taken so we sat separately again. However, in one hour time, we arrived in Pontorson—a city just outside Mont Saint Michel. It was dark, we were tired and hungry, so we found a cheap hotel, put our stuff down and went looking for food.
We were fortunate to find a menu that was relatively inexpensive with what appeared to have decent entrées. Unfortunately, it was also half restaurant, half porn shop. We thought this unusual until we figured out the only thing to do in Pontorson was to go to strip joints. So, back to the hotel we went after dinner to play Hangman and MASH until we were tired enough to go to sleep. Early in the morning, we took the bus to Mont Saint Michel, which was quite empty. It made me kind of enthusiastic—thinking that we might be alone in this gigantic, 10th century building. However, on arrival, our luck changed as we saw MOBS of people trying to get in. This is how the rest of the day would work itself out.
Those little white things in the front are sheep
We went through the Abbey, it was nice.
The Abbey, from outside
The hallways are still roaming with a couple remaining monks
Plenty of cool stuff to see inside
Garden of Eden
We walked through the village, and that was nice too.
Quick sand--as far as the eye can see!
By the time we had finished with the island, it was still mid afternoon. So we relaxed, had a coffee, hot chocolate, and cider, and sat back and talked. It was a nice break from the mobs because the restaurant was pretty empty. We got back on the bus, and arrived back in Pontorson for dinner. This time, we ate out fancy. I had lamb and a chocolate banana crepe for desert. It was quite yummy. Amy and Amanda had some exotic salads, then Amy had salmon for dinner and Amanda had duck. They finished it with Crème Brule. It was a little expensive, but totally worth it to eat out on my last night of the trip.
The next morning, I started off for home kind of early. I started reading the first Harry Potter book in French on the train. I didn’t get very far because the girl who was sitting next to me was getting constantly harassed by this guy who kept asking her to meet her in the café for a coffee. So, I had to play pretend boyfriend, which was about as fun as it sounds. I sat next to her, she’d grab my arm when he walked by, and then she’d go back to talking about her job search as soon as he left. He was insistent—even with me sitting right there, he continued to make hand gestures that seemed to indicate that he wanted to go have a drink with her in Car 4.
Finally, I got back home in Lyon where I could relax away from mobs of people in Mont St Michel and emotive lonely girls on the train who spoke familial French. I went to a Halloween party that night which was really great and hung out with some nice Americans. It was a nice ending to an amazing trip.
So, I have been back in school for two weeks now after my trip to Carnac and Mt. St. Michel. It was a really remarkable trip—one of the best ever—and it has made my return to this great city quite interesting. I am much closer to my travel buddies (Amy and Amanda) and also to people around me. I think it put me in a good mood—which Esther (the girl who lives with me), is very thankful for. No more sassy Trevor.
We started our trip on a Tuesday morning, very early. We had only purchased our tickets to Rennes and back, and thought we’d leave the details to the trip up to the fate of the train system. Turned out that this was by far the best way to travel—to find a port city and just go from there.
On the train, we decided that I was going to cut my trip short early because I had an unprecedented amount of homework to do and a party to catch on Friday night. So, we made a list of priorities—starting with the stuff I wanted to do because I would be returning Friday whereas Amy and Amanda would be returning on Sunday. On the train, we made the decision that we would go to Carnac, then travel to Mt. Saint Michel, where I would leave on Friday morning and they would continue onto the Normandy beaches. Sorry to say it, but WWII stuff takes backseat to my gigantic Catholic castle.
So, after our four-hour train to Rennes, we purchased all our tickets for the remainder of our trip and hopped on a train to Auray. From there—a 45 minute bus ride to Carnac. Carnac is a small village that is often visited for the sea because it has a really nice port considering many of the Northern beaches are mucked up with tons of gray sand away from land—which makes it difficult to own boats. Beyond that, however, Carnac is one of the oldest Megaliths sites in the world. Gigantic rock formations that pre-date Stonehenge line the streets of Carnac for miles and miles.
We arrived at around 4 in the afternoon after a day on the trains. We found a store to buy chips and salsa and we sat and watched the sunset at the rocks. It wasn’t too cold at that point and it was nice to just sit and relax since none of us were sitting together on the train. Afterwards, Amy was feeling kind of ill so she returned to the hotel while Amanda and I ate at a nice little Italian restaurant. It was warm and cozy and there was this really scraggly dog that was walking to all the tables and visiting the guests. The food was great, the company was great, and it was a nice evening.
SALSA: Amy was incredulous
Megaliths at sunset
Peek-a-booAmy was feeling better after dinner, so she met up with us for Crepes. Crepes are the specialty of the north and, much to the dismay of Amanda, I wasn’t really looking to try them as a formal meal—only desert. So we went, Amanda ordered a crepe with Chantilly, caramel, apples, whipped cream, etc. Amy had the house specialty—sugar, butter, and caramel. I had the dark chocolate with vanilla ban ice cream. What can I say—I’m a classic kind of guy.
Amanda with her Chantilly madness
I'm a chocolate monsterWe went to bed early that evening in a bed that was firmer than the floor for some reason (consult the video on Facebook), but in a hotel room that was the best room we’ve been in since we got to France. It was big, private LARGE bathroom that even had a footbath because it was close to the sea. It wasn’t too pricey either—which is nice because it’s generally an expensive area.
The next morning we got up early, threw our bags on our backs, and began what would be one of the longest hikes any of us had ever taken. We walked about 15-18 kilometers that day along side the Megaliths, up and down hills, through paths. It was so beautiful outside and the downtown area was quite charming because all the buildings are old and quite homogenous. It was a wonderful day filled with walking, reflecting, great Pizza, and of course—another train.
Charming little pathway
Church on the hill
Beautiful field we spent some time in
The church on the hill, again
We were pretty alone out there...
Awesome shot of the tree and the sun!
The travelers smile for a Kodak momentThis time, going back to Rennes, we had about five minutes between connecting trains. So, we sprinted over to the monitor to see where our train was departing, then sprinted and barely made the train. Naturally, all the good seats were taken so we sat separately again. However, in one hour time, we arrived in Pontorson—a city just outside Mont Saint Michel. It was dark, we were tired and hungry, so we found a cheap hotel, put our stuff down and went looking for food.
We were fortunate to find a menu that was relatively inexpensive with what appeared to have decent entrées. Unfortunately, it was also half restaurant, half porn shop. We thought this unusual until we figured out the only thing to do in Pontorson was to go to strip joints. So, back to the hotel we went after dinner to play Hangman and MASH until we were tired enough to go to sleep. Early in the morning, we took the bus to Mont Saint Michel, which was quite empty. It made me kind of enthusiastic—thinking that we might be alone in this gigantic, 10th century building. However, on arrival, our luck changed as we saw MOBS of people trying to get in. This is how the rest of the day would work itself out.
Those little white things in the front are sheepWe went through the Abbey, it was nice.
The Abbey, from outside
The hallways are still roaming with a couple remaining monks
Plenty of cool stuff to see inside
Garden of EdenWe walked through the village, and that was nice too.
Quick sand--as far as the eye can see!By the time we had finished with the island, it was still mid afternoon. So we relaxed, had a coffee, hot chocolate, and cider, and sat back and talked. It was a nice break from the mobs because the restaurant was pretty empty. We got back on the bus, and arrived back in Pontorson for dinner. This time, we ate out fancy. I had lamb and a chocolate banana crepe for desert. It was quite yummy. Amy and Amanda had some exotic salads, then Amy had salmon for dinner and Amanda had duck. They finished it with Crème Brule. It was a little expensive, but totally worth it to eat out on my last night of the trip.
The next morning, I started off for home kind of early. I started reading the first Harry Potter book in French on the train. I didn’t get very far because the girl who was sitting next to me was getting constantly harassed by this guy who kept asking her to meet her in the café for a coffee. So, I had to play pretend boyfriend, which was about as fun as it sounds. I sat next to her, she’d grab my arm when he walked by, and then she’d go back to talking about her job search as soon as he left. He was insistent—even with me sitting right there, he continued to make hand gestures that seemed to indicate that he wanted to go have a drink with her in Car 4.
Finally, I got back home in Lyon where I could relax away from mobs of people in Mont St Michel and emotive lonely girls on the train who spoke familial French. I went to a Halloween party that night which was really great and hung out with some nice Americans. It was a nice ending to an amazing trip.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
