When I made this blog, you had me send you a link, so I figure an AFSer is reading this. I'm going to set the tone of this note as not in the least bit complainy: As I've said before, this is an incredible opportunity I'm more than fortunate, and happy, to be a part of. That being said, I have to bring this up:
You're kind of giving me some mixed signals here. It seemed that a key theme was going to be the complete cultural submersion and becoming a member of a French family, and while that's generally what's going on I seem to be a little put off by all these events. Now, I know they're not obligatory (in that you're not the one making me go), and I do enjoy them, it just makes me feel like a tourist all over again. There's an overwhelming urge to speak English, and I feel alienated from the general French cultural I'm supposed to be bathing in.
I don't really know why I said all this, but I suppose I adopted this as a personal blog above being a France journal, and I'm bound to discuss things on my mind. I do look forward to tomorrow night's dinner, I did enjoy last week's balade and I assume I'll be at the next. It was great meeting all the other AFSers in the program too, and the energy and atmosphere is always positive.
Again, I have to admit my point is moot in that you're not the ones making me go, so don't let this be at all accusatory.
And just because I've already started one blog, might as well throw in some more thoughts: It's unfortunate that American culture has put it's fingers into everything. This is actually the main reason why I've been feeling deprived of a nice soapy soak in the bath of French culture. Whether it's some of the games that are still in English with French subtitles and text, or the American TV shows, the music in English filling the radio, the billboards and advertisements that use English slogans. I've always thought a familial world culture would be beneficial in the whole "world community" vibe, but I feel almost disgusted by hailing from the main catalyst of this movement. I suppose there's always things the receiving culture will reject, allowing a customization of the influx of all things alien, but it's by no means a stopper in the bottle - the bottle that is the delicious syrup I enjoy on my crepes. And where is that syrup from? Well, Canada, actually, but...it's close enough I guess. Terrible analogy, sorry.
Really needs to sleep before his babble becomes too incoherent,
Taylor en France
Friday, March 20, 2009
Tuesday, March 17, 2009
Long Time, No...Anything, really
Firstly, the country of France, perhaps all of Europe exists in a different time frequency. Much like radio frequency, this means the undulations of the "time waves" is different, in this situation: sped up. As a result of this entirely proven scientific phenomenon, time passes more quickly here. I think it's because I'm living in the future now (except if you live far enough East of me. Time must be even faster for you guys!).
I have a lot of things to say, and I'm going to try and do most of it without going and finding emails and copy/pasting the stuff for everyone else. Here we go!
J'ai beaucoup des choses pour dire et je vais essayer faire ca sans cherche dans les emails j'ai deja ecrire. Allons-y! (note, that was terrible french)
What kind of things do you want to know about? I've been meaning to say this for a while: it was like the second week, I had 6 different cakes in 9 days. It was awesome.
Qu'est-ce que vous voulez savoir? J'ai voulu dire quelque chose depuis longtemps: c'etait la seconde semain, je crois, j'ai goute 6 gateaux differents dans 9 jours. C'etait tres chouette. (by the way, I'm using my lappy, and I'm too lazy to use accents)
I bought pants, they're really cool. I wore a tie and the only one who said something was some authority member guy, but he wasn't really nice in general. And a CD, but it's Mika, which isn't French but whatever.
J'ai achete des pantalons, ils sont tres genials. J'ai porte une cravate et le seul person qui dit quelque chose etait un homme d'autorite, mais il n'a pas ete sympatique. Et un Cd, mais c'est Mika et c'est pas francais mais c'est pas grave.
Clippit from an email (I'm getting lazy):
They don't have substitute teachers in most French schools. When a teacher doesn't show, class is canceled and either replaced by another class if that teacher is available or all the kids go to "permanence." "Permanence" is a giant room full of seats where you just sit, be quiet and work for what should be your hour long class. I thought it was pretty cool, and I still kind of do, but it's happened like 5 times this week. Also, all my afternoon classes were canceled yesterday because there was this "regulations" thing we did. It was about 10 students and 3 teachers and it was supposed to be a dialogue about how to make the class better (i.e.: how to make the students behave better). I guess it was the first time it's ever happened. Oh, and every now and again, random authority members of the school (intimidating graying men in nice suits) come into the class and talk to us about stuff. Today I think it was about how the class doesn't take Histoire des Religions seriously. Which they don't. At all.
Oh la vache, je ne veux pas traduire ca, c'est trop dure. Donc, je ne vais pas. Desole.
Okay, that's all for now, maybe more later
Okay, c'est tout pour maintenant, peut-etre plus plus tard.
A bientot!
Taylor en France
I have a lot of things to say, and I'm going to try and do most of it without going and finding emails and copy/pasting the stuff for everyone else. Here we go!
J'ai beaucoup des choses pour dire et je vais essayer faire ca sans cherche dans les emails j'ai deja ecrire. Allons-y! (note, that was terrible french)
What kind of things do you want to know about? I've been meaning to say this for a while: it was like the second week, I had 6 different cakes in 9 days. It was awesome.
Qu'est-ce que vous voulez savoir? J'ai voulu dire quelque chose depuis longtemps: c'etait la seconde semain, je crois, j'ai goute 6 gateaux differents dans 9 jours. C'etait tres chouette. (by the way, I'm using my lappy, and I'm too lazy to use accents)
I bought pants, they're really cool. I wore a tie and the only one who said something was some authority member guy, but he wasn't really nice in general. And a CD, but it's Mika, which isn't French but whatever.
J'ai achete des pantalons, ils sont tres genials. J'ai porte une cravate et le seul person qui dit quelque chose etait un homme d'autorite, mais il n'a pas ete sympatique. Et un Cd, mais c'est Mika et c'est pas francais mais c'est pas grave.
Clippit from an email (I'm getting lazy):
They don't have substitute teachers in most French schools. When a teacher doesn't show, class is canceled and either replaced by another class if that teacher is available or all the kids go to "permanence." "Permanence" is a giant room full of seats where you just sit, be quiet and work for what should be your hour long class. I thought it was pretty cool, and I still kind of do, but it's happened like 5 times this week. Also, all my afternoon classes were canceled yesterday because there was this "regulations" thing we did. It was about 10 students and 3 teachers and it was supposed to be a dialogue about how to make the class better (i.e.: how to make the students behave better). I guess it was the first time it's ever happened. Oh, and every now and again, random authority members of the school (intimidating graying men in nice suits) come into the class and talk to us about stuff. Today I think it was about how the class doesn't take Histoire des Religions seriously. Which they don't. At all.
Oh la vache, je ne veux pas traduire ca, c'est trop dure. Donc, je ne vais pas. Desole.
Okay, that's all for now, maybe more later
Okay, c'est tout pour maintenant, peut-etre plus plus tard.
A bientot!
Taylor en France
Wednesday, March 4, 2009
The Alps: Part 1
Dimanche: 22 fevrier
I went snowshoeing in the Alps today. It was incredible. Incredible doesn’t cover it. I would stop, and just look around, just to try to take in everything around me. It is one of the greatest things I’ve ever seen nature do. The best part, I didn’t have my camera.
Correction: I had my camera, but it didn’t have a battery. I hate to be so accusatory, but when it comes to an action that results in someone missing what could be a once in a lifetime opportunity to photograph some of the most breathtaking and famed landscape on the planet (I don’t think I’m over-glorifying the Alps that much, I mean, they are the Alps), then I feel I have just cause to be a little remorselessly angry. The story: Last night, Quentin decided it would be a kind gesture to charge the battery of my camera. So I see him pop the battery out, and this surprises me, I say, “Qu’est-ce que tu fait?” (What are you doing) and he explains that he’s going to charge the battery. I try as best as I can to make clear that it is entirely unnecessary as the battery is full. And it was. I see him put it back in. I guess he popped it out again when I wasn’t paying attention and threw it in the charger. Again, a generally nive gesture, however he didn’t actually plug the charger in. (I have American plugs for my chargers, and one converter, which the lappy was using). Thinking that I was going to sky today I didn’t bring the camera, I was afraid I’d break one of the many times I was bound to fall. However, the plan was to go snowshoeing (faire des racquettes, or something). We stopped at the house, condo, rental area place briefly to drop of the skis we’d rented too, so they weren’t left in the car. I took this opportunity to scootle on upstairs and snatch my shutterbox, then it was out of the house in a flash. So, we get to the stop. I’m wearing sunglasses, which I’m in no way used to, and I have to take them off. There was no way I was going to see what I was going to see through filters. Immediately I wanted to start taking pictures. At first I think it’s funny that the camera doesn’t turn on: I figure it’s because of my borrowed gloves that are awkward, stiff and bulky. I take them off and when it still doesn’t turn on I recall with horror the happenings the previous night that I’ve just recounted. I open the bottom and say “Quentin! Òu est la battery!?” I immediately feel bad because he had already gotten in trouble for losing one of his gloves. But I was pissed, excuse my language, but I was. So I left the camera in the car and tried not to make too many comments about how beautiful everything was, and if only I had a camera. If you feel like that is an immature or snide way to behave, see the beginning of this paragraph.
I will, however, have my camera the rest of the week. I believe we will be snowshoeing again, but I think it’ll be at night by torchlight or something. Awesome, but not the most photogenic of events. But thoroughly awesome. And not the weenie synonym for cool, but I’m sure it will inspire awe. You can look forward to seeing plenty of scenery and essentially no pictures of me. I didn’t bring my snow gear because frankly I’d didn’t think February through July was going to wield enough occasions of need to warrant spending that much weight and space in my already overweight suitcase. The rest of the family all has their cool, personal gear, and I have what the cousin grew out of and left behind. It’s a robin’s egg blue, light lime green, and pasty yellow jumpsuit.
Now, I don’t want to complain. I really hate to do that, considering the incredible experience and the great wealth of generosity that’s been sent my way. I am grateful and thankful for everything. I’m having a good time, enjoying myself, and participating as much as I can. That being said, let me repeat myself: a robin’s egg blue, light lime green, and pasty yellow jumpsuit. Every time I put it on, Thomas laughs at me, using the French words for “ridiculous” and “clown” (which is the same as the English version, just said differently). But it keeps me warm as I trek through gorgeous mountain terrain, so at least I have something.
Fondue: we ate it for dinner. It was delicious but I have a little bit of a stomach ache now. Tonight was the melty cheese one where you dip bread in. Two nights ago was the boiling oil one you dip raw pieces of steak and it cooks them. That is delicious. Matty, I’m going to make it for you sometime, I’m sure you’d like it. The odd thing was, the oil is made from the seeds of grapes. The seeds of grapes. That’s like drinking a glass of water collected from the dew which dripped from the first harvest of the wild lemons. How many grapes does one need to obtain enough seeds to make enough oil to fill two fondue pots? I figure they’ve got plenty of grapes getting squished around here anyways (unfortunately, I dislike French alcohol the same as American), they probably started squeezing seeds from boredom. Then when oil came out…they decided t boil it…and dip meat into it? I guess? I don’t have internet here, so I can’t verify that story, but it seems likely so I’m going to go with it.
And now, I sleep.
Taylor en France
I went snowshoeing in the Alps today. It was incredible. Incredible doesn’t cover it. I would stop, and just look around, just to try to take in everything around me. It is one of the greatest things I’ve ever seen nature do. The best part, I didn’t have my camera.
Correction: I had my camera, but it didn’t have a battery. I hate to be so accusatory, but when it comes to an action that results in someone missing what could be a once in a lifetime opportunity to photograph some of the most breathtaking and famed landscape on the planet (I don’t think I’m over-glorifying the Alps that much, I mean, they are the Alps), then I feel I have just cause to be a little remorselessly angry. The story: Last night, Quentin decided it would be a kind gesture to charge the battery of my camera. So I see him pop the battery out, and this surprises me, I say, “Qu’est-ce que tu fait?” (What are you doing) and he explains that he’s going to charge the battery. I try as best as I can to make clear that it is entirely unnecessary as the battery is full. And it was. I see him put it back in. I guess he popped it out again when I wasn’t paying attention and threw it in the charger. Again, a generally nive gesture, however he didn’t actually plug the charger in. (I have American plugs for my chargers, and one converter, which the lappy was using). Thinking that I was going to sky today I didn’t bring the camera, I was afraid I’d break one of the many times I was bound to fall. However, the plan was to go snowshoeing (faire des racquettes, or something). We stopped at the house, condo, rental area place briefly to drop of the skis we’d rented too, so they weren’t left in the car. I took this opportunity to scootle on upstairs and snatch my shutterbox, then it was out of the house in a flash. So, we get to the stop. I’m wearing sunglasses, which I’m in no way used to, and I have to take them off. There was no way I was going to see what I was going to see through filters. Immediately I wanted to start taking pictures. At first I think it’s funny that the camera doesn’t turn on: I figure it’s because of my borrowed gloves that are awkward, stiff and bulky. I take them off and when it still doesn’t turn on I recall with horror the happenings the previous night that I’ve just recounted. I open the bottom and say “Quentin! Òu est la battery!?” I immediately feel bad because he had already gotten in trouble for losing one of his gloves. But I was pissed, excuse my language, but I was. So I left the camera in the car and tried not to make too many comments about how beautiful everything was, and if only I had a camera. If you feel like that is an immature or snide way to behave, see the beginning of this paragraph.
I will, however, have my camera the rest of the week. I believe we will be snowshoeing again, but I think it’ll be at night by torchlight or something. Awesome, but not the most photogenic of events. But thoroughly awesome. And not the weenie synonym for cool, but I’m sure it will inspire awe. You can look forward to seeing plenty of scenery and essentially no pictures of me. I didn’t bring my snow gear because frankly I’d didn’t think February through July was going to wield enough occasions of need to warrant spending that much weight and space in my already overweight suitcase. The rest of the family all has their cool, personal gear, and I have what the cousin grew out of and left behind. It’s a robin’s egg blue, light lime green, and pasty yellow jumpsuit.
Now, I don’t want to complain. I really hate to do that, considering the incredible experience and the great wealth of generosity that’s been sent my way. I am grateful and thankful for everything. I’m having a good time, enjoying myself, and participating as much as I can. That being said, let me repeat myself: a robin’s egg blue, light lime green, and pasty yellow jumpsuit. Every time I put it on, Thomas laughs at me, using the French words for “ridiculous” and “clown” (which is the same as the English version, just said differently). But it keeps me warm as I trek through gorgeous mountain terrain, so at least I have something.
Fondue: we ate it for dinner. It was delicious but I have a little bit of a stomach ache now. Tonight was the melty cheese one where you dip bread in. Two nights ago was the boiling oil one you dip raw pieces of steak and it cooks them. That is delicious. Matty, I’m going to make it for you sometime, I’m sure you’d like it. The odd thing was, the oil is made from the seeds of grapes. The seeds of grapes. That’s like drinking a glass of water collected from the dew which dripped from the first harvest of the wild lemons. How many grapes does one need to obtain enough seeds to make enough oil to fill two fondue pots? I figure they’ve got plenty of grapes getting squished around here anyways (unfortunately, I dislike French alcohol the same as American), they probably started squeezing seeds from boredom. Then when oil came out…they decided t boil it…and dip meat into it? I guess? I don’t have internet here, so I can’t verify that story, but it seems likely so I’m going to go with it.
And now, I sleep.
Taylor en France
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)
