So French English teachers – I met a few, right? Those who passed their exam (or took it even) had to study lewis and clark, so they know Missouri really well. And the definitely know St. Louis b/c guess where Lewis and Clark left from? St. Louis? (I thought it was Independence, but maybe I’m just thinking about the Oregon Trail game…banker from boston, y’all! RIP pepperoni and chease)
They have to study Coriolanus for the next exam ( a lot of ppl don’t pass, like, 1500 out of 5000) and like, how boring does Shakespeare get, really? Like, Coriolanus is it. It is the most boring Shakespeare play ever. I only know it b/c it was in a scandalous part of the song, “Brush up your Shakespeare” from Kiss Me Kate. I wonder if I can teach the French how to say “like” all the time just like me. I’ve discovered I say, “like” a lot and “I mean,” at the beginning of sentences, and I also say “its annoying that…” – and I don’t know the word for annoying. To the dictionary! I also don’t know the word for “spell.”
Solène knows words like velvet in English – impressive! I tried to teach her how to say “jk” and “omg” – but I realized I would be making her sound like a semi-weirdo/13-year-old/me by doing so, but then I realized that if I met a Frenchie who said, “OMG, zees eeez amazeeeng!” I would think they were the coooooolest French person EVER. I tried to teach Solene about “holla back” – its only a matter of time until I have her saying “rep yo citaaaay!” --- did you know that rappers and like, cool kids in france say, “big up” when they really mean to say Holla, or like shout out, or something. Like, good try, but no rapper would ever say, “Big Up to Snoop” or whatever. I’m not expert, but I really don’t think it would happen. I saw a French rap video, and it was pretty good, the French part was a little confusing/funny to me, but one thing I thought the whole time was, “ French rap videos: why are they playing basketball?” Does ANYONE in France play basketball? That is like playing lacrosse or like, Beirut/beer pong in a video. Americans do these sports for American reasons, right? There aren’t any basketball teams that will pay you big bucks in France – so in your rap video about the street, mr. French rapper MC man, why do you have street lookin’ people shootin’ hoops? They have no hope for social mobility in a measly hobby of street hoops! basketball!? Make them play soccer! Or better yet, have them play “go to university”?
Or at least have them shaking a polaroid picture, or getting their eagle on.
Come on.
Take your cues from the RIGHT rappers, France!
Don’t even get me started on the French people dancing hip hop I saw on the French version of American Idol (which I LOVED)….it was like, all the cheese you could hope for from American Idol but don’t get. Plus, there’s the added element of big-brother, so its quite comprehensive. And Pink sang! She did not understand French. But there were back up dancers, and like, wow, even when they were doing semi-interpretive stuff they were just not good. But I love hip hoppin’ French people, who am I kidding?! It’s got that awesomely bad silver lining that I am so often drawn to.
Speaking of awesomely bad, not only are there no French clip shows (do the French know how to make fun of themselves/are they capable of it? Submit your essays in the commentary section) …. There’s no phrase with the same caché as “best ___ ever.”
It bums me out.
I have to find all new phrases. It’s probably a good thing, since when I speak French I say about 10 different sentences all mixed up, and I always make sure to throw in a bunch of French-looking weird faces and sounds. I think it is working and that people understand me, though I do NOT think anyone at all thinks I am French. I have had mostly English dreams, though I did have ONE in French with English subtitles, and no I am not trying to be cute. It really happened (in my dream). It was a good translation, too.
Anywah, you can lead a horse to water, but you can’t make him French. …which reminds me, dirt came out of my faucet when I first turned it on today. Its ok, I’m used to well water from the farm, so I thought it was just iron in the water, but it was dirt. Lucky for me I’m very ok with dirt. Its not dirty anymore, though! I am a little bit, but I’m really not looking forward to using the Camp Tuckahoe showers they have going here in the super old-school dorms. I hope to metaphorically drink the French water if that means like, being fluent. But I’m not so sure about the devoid of technology prison-y dorms. It’s waaaay too Camus for me. (Bonus points for existentialism reference: 15)
Thursday, September 21, 2006
And it was good. Bon? Bien?
Bon? Bien? I don't know how to properly say 'and it was good' in french yet. It's like the well vs good thing in english, and I'm one of those people that does not get it right. I get the feeling that there are not many of "those people" in france, so i'd better learn quick!
Anyway,-
So I’ve only been here like, 4 days, but I’ve been hanging out with French people! Its been pretty neat, and they’ve all been extremely charming, and I feel quite lucky, especially since all any well intentioned American wants to do when they travel is : MEET FOREIGN PEOPLE, and chill with them. Trade off: living in the arab/algerian ghetto, and its not even cute like Casablanca, or Lawrence of Arabia or like “Algiers” where all the people partied in the 20s and wore interesting and colorful hats…though it is not like Not Without My Daughter, thank heaven. Rent the French movie “la Chutte” and you’ll have some clue as to where I live, though to an extreme. I don’t hang out with those guys, they’re on the other side of the gate. I sortof wish I had never seen “La Chutte.” Its cool though, I’m locked in my (2 stories tall awesome 60’s concrete block architecture with awesome lung-colored radiator) “tower”.
I hung out with a lot of French English teachers, or candidates for English teachers on Saturday night. I tried not to sit and look blithely overwhelmed the WHOLE time, and managed to squeeze in a few conversations. There was one English girl there who had her French wedding ring on her English finger that she got from her French husband. She said, Oh, I’m just like you! I came to be an assistant when I was 23! Um, ahhhhhhgghh! We agreed that I did not come over to find a French husband, but she did, so hey. I didn’t go to Penn to find a husband, and like, I didn’t. So we’re good. Enough foreign husband paranoia, I don’t want to develop a complex and end up with a xenophobia reserved only for foreign boys. Because that would really happen.
All these people I partied with the other night are friends of Solene’s – she’s a student teacher at Duchere. She’s 24! It’s very cool, and she is very cool. One of her friends Melanie (I think) – did the sister cities exchange probably right around the time I did, and she lived in Webster Groves, can you believe it! When I see her again I will ask her what family, though I am sure I don’t know them b/c I don’t know anyone from Webster,I really don’t. Another gal there, Tini, she said her sisters – who live in new york, queens to be exact, with her family, told her she had a Canadian accent. I told her no, but she did not have a London accent like she wanted. It’s hard to describe Canadian accents, though I did ask her if she said, “..,eh?” at the end of sentences a lot. But French people do that a lot, too…putting something like a nasal/guttural “eh” that’s spelled, “hein?” Either way around it, I was not good at asking if she said eh at the end of sentences b/c she was way confused. So I just said, not to worry, Canadians were very polite.
I get the vibe that everyone’s a little bit racist in France, but they don’t talk about it as much as we do in USA (can you imagine?). I’ve only been here for 4 days, but I really don’t think an equivalent of Chris Rock could exist here, and definitely no David Chapelle…or even Blue Collar Comedy for that matter. Solene told me that her jewish friend didn’t tell many people about it b/c people get judged for being jewish here. I guess its sorta like that in the US, but people are proud of their ethnicity to the point of making things annoying, so maybe its just being polite? And we’ve got the racism in the US. It just feels different for me as a foreigner. Speaking of which, Its really exciting for me to be here b/c I keep on getting to go around saying, “I am an American!” all the time, and I feel like I am totally repping my country by default. I sortof want to do a little arm motion you see Jimmy Durante do when he goes, “atcha chachacha” when I say it, and sometimes I do.
Here is also one of the rare times when all I have to really be is American, and not like, oh, but are you irish? business…since I never can do that anyway b/c I have no ethnicity, and I think “American” is foreign enough for most Joe’s on the street. And - since I’m more apt to feel connected to where I was brought up, its nice to be seen through that lens, only w/o the “aren’t southerners stupid, and Midwesterners overly enthusiastic” or whatever. I can deal with the American stereotypes of like, food re-namers – which I’m not running into, actually.
I
I feel sortof “Look at how wise I am. I am so wise.” --- about saying all this crap about class/racism/whatever but hey, I’m not trying to be that girl. Walk in my shoes, these are occasional deep things things I think – when I’m not trying to think of how to form the correct tense = impossible -- about over all the tartes I’ve been eating. (I think the tart count is something like 6 now…tartes of all kinds! Lots of plums.) Can I mention now that French people eat a lot, and for a long time, and they take really BIG bites? Yeah, I think I can mention that now. Its sortof crazy dudes. I’m always the last one finishing my tarte. Aaaand apparently you’re not to cut your salad ahead of time, but rather as you eat it. And, at agnes and Philippe’s, we’re always eating like, little deli slices of ham with dinner. It all works for me, its just different. Vive la difference, hein?! I am really loving the having 2 drinks like an hour before dinner with peanut flavored cheetos and vinegar flavored chips…l’aperatif. Though I’m sure no one ever does homework after dinner, b/c you’re all full and like, not drunk but all ready to chill…so that would not work, unless you do all your work before dinner. Which would not only be genius, but possible, since they eat here (expectedly) around 9.
Was I speaking of stereotypes before? I have an analogy:
Arkansas is to everyone marries their cousin as france is to no one showers ever.
The frenches I’ve been staying with shower all the time, and they all of course smell like Jean Paul Gaultier (the scent I think that is contributing to the spicy apricot smell I remember). Speaking of showers, the other night I had a lost in translation moment when I washed my hair with bodywash b/c I thought “peau” meant hair, which is really dumb. I KNOW deep down in my soul that the word for hair is “cheveux” but in my state of jetlag or SOMETHING I thought I was a cat – b/c the word for cat hair/fur is “peau” so I was like, hey. And then I was like, “this lather is suspicious.”
But alas, it was too late.
I know my French friends are going to read this and throw cheese at my head. It’s just observations, guys! Isn’t it enough that I washed my hair with bodywash?
Anyway,-
So I’ve only been here like, 4 days, but I’ve been hanging out with French people! Its been pretty neat, and they’ve all been extremely charming, and I feel quite lucky, especially since all any well intentioned American wants to do when they travel is : MEET FOREIGN PEOPLE, and chill with them. Trade off: living in the arab/algerian ghetto, and its not even cute like Casablanca, or Lawrence of Arabia or like “Algiers” where all the people partied in the 20s and wore interesting and colorful hats…though it is not like Not Without My Daughter, thank heaven. Rent the French movie “la Chutte” and you’ll have some clue as to where I live, though to an extreme. I don’t hang out with those guys, they’re on the other side of the gate. I sortof wish I had never seen “La Chutte.” Its cool though, I’m locked in my (2 stories tall awesome 60’s concrete block architecture with awesome lung-colored radiator) “tower”.
I hung out with a lot of French English teachers, or candidates for English teachers on Saturday night. I tried not to sit and look blithely overwhelmed the WHOLE time, and managed to squeeze in a few conversations. There was one English girl there who had her French wedding ring on her English finger that she got from her French husband. She said, Oh, I’m just like you! I came to be an assistant when I was 23! Um, ahhhhhhgghh! We agreed that I did not come over to find a French husband, but she did, so hey. I didn’t go to Penn to find a husband, and like, I didn’t. So we’re good. Enough foreign husband paranoia, I don’t want to develop a complex and end up with a xenophobia reserved only for foreign boys. Because that would really happen.
All these people I partied with the other night are friends of Solene’s – she’s a student teacher at Duchere. She’s 24! It’s very cool, and she is very cool. One of her friends Melanie (I think) – did the sister cities exchange probably right around the time I did, and she lived in Webster Groves, can you believe it! When I see her again I will ask her what family, though I am sure I don’t know them b/c I don’t know anyone from Webster,I really don’t. Another gal there, Tini, she said her sisters – who live in new york, queens to be exact, with her family, told her she had a Canadian accent. I told her no, but she did not have a London accent like she wanted. It’s hard to describe Canadian accents, though I did ask her if she said, “..,eh?” at the end of sentences a lot. But French people do that a lot, too…putting something like a nasal/guttural “eh” that’s spelled, “hein?” Either way around it, I was not good at asking if she said eh at the end of sentences b/c she was way confused. So I just said, not to worry, Canadians were very polite.
I get the vibe that everyone’s a little bit racist in France, but they don’t talk about it as much as we do in USA (can you imagine?). I’ve only been here for 4 days, but I really don’t think an equivalent of Chris Rock could exist here, and definitely no David Chapelle…or even Blue Collar Comedy for that matter. Solene told me that her jewish friend didn’t tell many people about it b/c people get judged for being jewish here. I guess its sorta like that in the US, but people are proud of their ethnicity to the point of making things annoying, so maybe its just being polite? And we’ve got the racism in the US. It just feels different for me as a foreigner. Speaking of which, Its really exciting for me to be here b/c I keep on getting to go around saying, “I am an American!” all the time, and I feel like I am totally repping my country by default. I sortof want to do a little arm motion you see Jimmy Durante do when he goes, “atcha chachacha” when I say it, and sometimes I do.
Here is also one of the rare times when all I have to really be is American, and not like, oh, but are you irish? business…since I never can do that anyway b/c I have no ethnicity, and I think “American” is foreign enough for most Joe’s on the street. And - since I’m more apt to feel connected to where I was brought up, its nice to be seen through that lens, only w/o the “aren’t southerners stupid, and Midwesterners overly enthusiastic” or whatever. I can deal with the American stereotypes of like, food re-namers – which I’m not running into, actually.
I
I feel sortof “Look at how wise I am. I am so wise.” --- about saying all this crap about class/racism/whatever but hey, I’m not trying to be that girl. Walk in my shoes, these are occasional deep things things I think – when I’m not trying to think of how to form the correct tense = impossible -- about over all the tartes I’ve been eating. (I think the tart count is something like 6 now…tartes of all kinds! Lots of plums.) Can I mention now that French people eat a lot, and for a long time, and they take really BIG bites? Yeah, I think I can mention that now. Its sortof crazy dudes. I’m always the last one finishing my tarte. Aaaand apparently you’re not to cut your salad ahead of time, but rather as you eat it. And, at agnes and Philippe’s, we’re always eating like, little deli slices of ham with dinner. It all works for me, its just different. Vive la difference, hein?! I am really loving the having 2 drinks like an hour before dinner with peanut flavored cheetos and vinegar flavored chips…l’aperatif. Though I’m sure no one ever does homework after dinner, b/c you’re all full and like, not drunk but all ready to chill…so that would not work, unless you do all your work before dinner. Which would not only be genius, but possible, since they eat here (expectedly) around 9.
Was I speaking of stereotypes before? I have an analogy:
Arkansas is to everyone marries their cousin as france is to no one showers ever.
The frenches I’ve been staying with shower all the time, and they all of course smell like Jean Paul Gaultier (the scent I think that is contributing to the spicy apricot smell I remember). Speaking of showers, the other night I had a lost in translation moment when I washed my hair with bodywash b/c I thought “peau” meant hair, which is really dumb. I KNOW deep down in my soul that the word for hair is “cheveux” but in my state of jetlag or SOMETHING I thought I was a cat – b/c the word for cat hair/fur is “peau” so I was like, hey. And then I was like, “this lather is suspicious.”
But alas, it was too late.
I know my French friends are going to read this and throw cheese at my head. It’s just observations, guys! Isn’t it enough that I washed my hair with bodywash?
In the beginning, there were french people
I really should elaborate on my formative days in france, but dude, we’ll just see, k?
Some bullet points for you:
- on Jet lag – I'm about to pass out from all this drama: 8 or so hours of my life were stolen (along with my guitar, though I’m getting that back, hurrah!) by British airways and the cruel, cruel rotation of the earth.
- driving through the French cornfields with Agnes my English teacher savior
- The school and the library (sortof reminds me of a Priory meets Lindbergh meets Sumner)
- I’m overwhelmed but I don’t feel like inducing a coma (though I never do want to wake up In the morning, like ever – but that is actually nothing new!)
Phillipe and Agnes, Solène and Ciril – cute little French, Martinique family. Les graves, Stevie wonder, la voix de la Mississippi !
- I met solene last Friday, she’s a 24 year old student teacher in English here, and she said “hows it goin’?” Impressive! I spent the weekend with her, and she is totally cool, and managed to help me find a cell phone, and walk me around amid my shell-shocked jetlaggedness.
- Oh my, the weekend means big breakfasts, I almost found housing near solene, but it was sold out, but then we went to her friend’s house for a dinner party (the sort that you learn about in French class in high school…it was a living lesson indeed)….it was a lovely dinner party, and I met French people! How exciting for me!
Some bullet points for you:
- on Jet lag – I'm about to pass out from all this drama: 8 or so hours of my life were stolen (along with my guitar, though I’m getting that back, hurrah!) by British airways and the cruel, cruel rotation of the earth.
- driving through the French cornfields with Agnes my English teacher savior
- The school and the library (sortof reminds me of a Priory meets Lindbergh meets Sumner)
- I’m overwhelmed but I don’t feel like inducing a coma (though I never do want to wake up In the morning, like ever – but that is actually nothing new!)
Phillipe and Agnes, Solène and Ciril – cute little French, Martinique family. Les graves, Stevie wonder, la voix de la Mississippi !
- I met solene last Friday, she’s a 24 year old student teacher in English here, and she said “hows it goin’?” Impressive! I spent the weekend with her, and she is totally cool, and managed to help me find a cell phone, and walk me around amid my shell-shocked jetlaggedness.
- Oh my, the weekend means big breakfasts, I almost found housing near solene, but it was sold out, but then we went to her friend’s house for a dinner party (the sort that you learn about in French class in high school…it was a living lesson indeed)….it was a lovely dinner party, and I met French people! How exciting for me!
Friday, September 15, 2006
Mississippi Valley girl finds her own doppelganger
...and she includes useful and educational links about her new city, Lyon, France!
http://lolololori.blogspot.com
I'm through double blogging - so expect this one to get more active, and especially more active once I have found my own internet connection! Oh how lovely it will be. In the meantime, everyone say a real american prayer of thanks that there are wonderful french people who are taking care of Lori - I am so grateful, and I am truly feeling some good karma that I hope to repay!
http://lolololori.blogspot.com
I'm through double blogging - so expect this one to get more active, and especially more active once I have found my own internet connection! Oh how lovely it will be. In the meantime, everyone say a real american prayer of thanks that there are wonderful french people who are taking care of Lori - I am so grateful, and I am truly feeling some good karma that I hope to repay!
Bonjour, Lyon!
I was going to think of a more clever title (la belle et la chutte, for example) but what first entry of a foreign travel blog doesn't begin with *local language way of saying hello*, *city where you are*? So I join the bandwagon for the sake of clarity!
I have a lot to say, but don't have much time to say it (i'm on the computer of Solene, super cool perfect english speaking english teacher at La Martiniere Duchere) but I wanted to update b/c hey, its nice. Speaking of which, so are most people I've met thus far, though they're all mostly english teachers, who are probably grateful that I speak more french than none at all.
Or maybe they just can tell I am awesome. Maybe both?
It's been overwhelming, and I've been here a day, and have yet to get my papers together... the citizen card (I always imagine being at like, some casablanca-esque bar where police come in to demand my "papers" ...anyway, that's what I think of when I have to do all this crappy paper work for the zany french bureaucracy) and what not, and I have not found a nicer appartment, etc...but so far, the experience has been rich, and I have almost been able to articulate just what the Daily Show is.
I'm not there yet, but my hope is by the end of the trip -- among other things, bien sur --- all my french colleagues will have a full and rich understanding of satirical american fake news.
I have a lot to say, but don't have much time to say it (i'm on the computer of Solene, super cool perfect english speaking english teacher at La Martiniere Duchere) but I wanted to update b/c hey, its nice. Speaking of which, so are most people I've met thus far, though they're all mostly english teachers, who are probably grateful that I speak more french than none at all.
Or maybe they just can tell I am awesome. Maybe both?
It's been overwhelming, and I've been here a day, and have yet to get my papers together... the citizen card (I always imagine being at like, some casablanca-esque bar where police come in to demand my "papers" ...anyway, that's what I think of when I have to do all this crappy paper work for the zany french bureaucracy) and what not, and I have not found a nicer appartment, etc...but so far, the experience has been rich, and I have almost been able to articulate just what the Daily Show is.
I'm not there yet, but my hope is by the end of the trip -- among other things, bien sur --- all my french colleagues will have a full and rich understanding of satirical american fake news.
Monday, August 28, 2006
Countdown, y'all
Well, I've returned from DC, and bam!
Suddenly the countdown clock is ticking very loudly.
I intend to continue on my merry St. Louis way, discovering, rediscovering, and revisiting all the old haunts just like I would be doing, and had been doing for a bit of time, despite this france drama that I have intentionally created...only now I have an excellent way of guilt tripping my buddies into coming WITH me to random places they would otherwise shrug off as yet another obscure st.l-lori adventure - as they too hear the france clock tickin' away. Excellent! The joke is on no one! (or everyone)
Hang on Lyon, b/c for now it's hello St. Louis time.
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