Paris, Part II

Ok, still catching up with the present here. If the lack of extemporaneity bothers you, you can pretend this is an exciting postmodern experiment and feel intellectual when you tells your friends that you follow a travel blog that brashly kicks to the curb traditional narrative structure.

Back to Paris (hey, it was only two months ago. Memory like an elephant). After traipsing around the city trying to find the Rice School of Architecture, I finally succeeded and the irritation of schlepping around what felt like nine thousand pounds of crap subsided (kind of) on seeing my friend MJ. She had even saved me a half-baguette! She kindly gave me the key to her apartment (which seriously looked like a medieval torture device) and a Paris map book (which was to stay with me longer than I ever suspected…[FORESHADOWING]) so that I could go get settled in while she was in class. In short, MJ is the best. That night she and her room-mate Tim, who graduated from Hanszen but is cool anyway, came back and we all went to Picard, a store which only sells frozen foods. Seems kind of un-French, right? I sampled the classic Gallic delicacy, frozen lasagna.

The next day was great. I was generously invited to go with MJ’s whole architecture class on a walk through Paris focusing on urbanism, which was exciting because urbanism is basically what I want to do. In life. Although teaching French high schoolers about peanut butter comes in at a distant second, I guess. At least de facto. It was fun to see the architecture class because I recognized all of the undergrads (or, uh, recent-graduate-post-preceptor-sixth-year-students? Whatever) from Rice. Anyway, the guide for the walk was a very funny and knowledgeable professor named Françoise who apparently has her own Wikipedia article (that’s about all it takes to impress me). One of the first things we did was walk along the Promenade Plantière (or something like that—I don’t have Internet access as I write this so I can’t fact-check). It’s basically a way, way cooler version of New York City’s new High Line Park—an elevated, linear park full of greenery. The New York one is pretty neat, but Paris’ strikes me as a much more pleasant place to actually be. Maybe in time as the High Line becomes less of a novelty and the crowds subside, it will settle into itself.

This was also the point at which I was informed of the concept of the sanisette, a type of French public toilet that CLEANS ITSELF with a WHOLE LOT OF WATER between each use. I was so entranced and horrified by the concept of a magic robot toilet that I kept a wary eye on each one I passed in Paris, though never got the chance to test them.

Later in the walk, we visited a fascinating public housing project in one of the inner suburbs of Paris. It was designed by an architect named something like Renaudet (again, can’t check at the moment) and I found it to be a really inspiring example of forging livable space. Basically the project is a reaction against uniformity in institutional housing, and it is designed so that each unit is different. Despite the fact that it’s molded from concrete, the development has an intricacy and randomness that makes it (to me, anyway) instantly pleasing both aesthetically and ambiently. It’s built around a triangle pattern, and balconies and roofs and windows jut in all different directions from any given point. It’s hard to explain, and if I can find pictures of it online I’ll eventually put them up here. Over all I was very moved by the project.

I’ll describe the rest of the walk and my Paris visit next time.

Où est la Bibliothèque?

I found the library!!! In case you can't tell, I'm thrilled. I love libraries. Also, now I have a place to access the Internet that's a little more peaceful than the teachers' room at school. The library here has a really impressive collection of CDs and films, which I'm also very excited about. The book selection (and graphic novels-- great for learners! France youth culture seems to be going through a major Japanophilic phase right now) will help give me a lot of much-needed practice. The building is really nice and new and cozy, and will be a great place to get away from the lyceé when things get crazy. And the people here are even nice! It's supposed to only be free for students (16 EUR subscription otherwise!) but they looked at my age and the fact that I live at a high school and gave it to me free anyhow. Thanks, very kind and grandmotherly quimpéroise librarian!

First Day of Work

Yesterday was my first day of work! I’m going to be obnoxious and cut straight to current time in order to catch up. Hopefully I’ll be able to go back and fill in the rest in time. This might not make a ton of sense without any context but hopefully it’ll eventually all come together. I was a bit nervewracked for my first day of classes. For the first period, it was pretty simple. The class was divided up into groups of three (sent in turns to see me in another classroom), and the topic was introductions. I would introduce myself, have them say their names and a fact about themselves, and then the floor would be open to any questions about me…or something. It went pretty well, and I was usually ready for the next group by the time the conversation really began to dry up. These kids were not very strong in English at all. For the next period, the teacher just left me in a room alone with about fifteen kids and told me to make them talk for an hour. These students were slightly better at English but damn, an hour? With no prep? Eventually I was really grasping: “so…foods? Does anyone like any specific ones? Your thoughts on foods and their relative merits are sought, particularly in mumbled, broken English.” The kids were very nice but may have thought I was an idiot. For the third class, most of my responsibilities were, thankfully, lessened and all I had to do was stand in front of the class while the teacher squeezed them for as many possible questions about me as possible. They must have thought I was either a serious egomaniac, or, once they heard my answers, really boring. Actually, in two different classes I was asked if I had seen any stars in New York. Also, most of the students were seriously perplexed that someone from New York (apparently) would come live in Quimper. I think they’re under the illusion, from movies, that everywhere else is super-exciting and fun. Well the joke’s on you, kiddos—everywhere sucks! Just kidding…I think.

The students were overall really nice and generally assuaged my fears that they would realize I was pretty uncool and throw French things at me. I am looking forward to future classes, because they’re going to have a lot more structure and a lot less of me blushing and generally feeling like an idiot.

Then, in the afternoon, a miracle! I had received a piece of paperwork from the school secretary about a French class for foreign assistants (information here only comes in the form of paperwork. Instead of newspapers, they actually read tax forms). It had a phone number on it, and I tried to call (with my new French cellphone!) but nobody picked up. So I figured I would just go to this place and hope that, a) I would be able to find it, b) they would be willing to add me, and c) the class had even started. So I took the bus (with my new monthly bus pass!) and then somehow managed to navigate my way to the university where the class was, IUT (which somehow reminds me both of UTI and IUD at the same time…lovely). I was able to find the classroom just in time, and the class was great! The teacher is American but fluent in French, and the makeup is very across-the-board—aside from me, there are two people from China, one from the Ukraine, one from Germany, and one from Finland. The class was just at my level of ability, and it was the most people around my age I had met since coming to Quimper. At the end, we all decided to meet on Friday night—wow, real social interaction! I’ll have a reason to venture outside of my cavernous abandoned high school where I live (more on that in later flashbacks), which is nice. The class is a fairly big time commitment (three hours a week spread out over two days) but it seems like it will really be worth it.

Communication is still difficult but I think my French is already improving a bit. Not having real Internet access is forcing me to read my French young adult novels (oy) a lot more. If this blog post isn’t eloquent, you can blame it on the imminent atrophy of my English. gfvjhgrfiojgrdijg

Leaving

Well, the day I left seems like a major blur now. My mom and I had lunch, and we came across a surprise neighborhood festival in Allston Center, with marching bands and everything! It was a pretty cool note to leave on. On the way back, our car got hit by a girl reading a map. Don’t read and drive, folks. Unless it’s a street sign. Then my dad picked me up for the airport and I was off.

The flight was great. I know, right? Who says that, ever? But it really was. Most importantly, the person next to me never showed up. Also, I remembered to pre-request a vegetarian meal. Also also, they had those nifty TV screens on every seat where you can choose between a bunch of movies, music, games, etc. Neat. The music selection really cracked me up because it seemed to have no rhyme or reason whatsoever. It would be something like, Pink Floyd, Hannah Montana, some actual obscure indie band from the UK, an album of folk songs from Syria, and 3LW (that band always confused me—are you trying to make it as an R&B group or as a geometry formula? You can’t have it both ways.) Of course, with all this entertainment (“Crossing Over” was a pretty good movie) I forgot to sleep. I think you’re supposed to sleep on a red-eye. So naturally, when I got to Dublin to switch planes, I was wicked tired. And my abundant goodwill towards Aer Lingus dissolved into general grumpiness towards my fellow man.

Getting off the plane at Charles de Gaulle (I was about to write “in Paris”, but that really seems too charitable to the considerable distances involved), I just wanted to pass out somewhere. But no! First I had to find my way to the RER (commuter rail) station within the airport. Which seemed really damn far away. At that moment I reflected how happy I was to have packed lightly—one big internal frame pack, one day pack, and a guitar case (not that I wouldn’t have sold my guitar for a five-minute nap). Upon arriving at the station, I was really thirsty. If you know me well, you probably know I’m always thirsty. So you’d think I would be able to presage these things. But no; and unfortunately, the first step towards getting a beverage was getting Euros. I wandered around aimlessly with all my crap looking for an ATM—what the heck, do Europeans not use money or what? I’ll spare you the fascinating details of the passionfruit juice transaction; long story short, eventually I was on the train to Paris.

update soon

Hi friends,

I am currently in Quimper and it is wonderful so far. Currently I have very spotty internet access (from a cybercafe with the dreaded French keyboard) and I will be updating this blog as soon as I have actual internet. I will be writing about my travels so far offline, on my computer, so I will post those either when I return to the cybercafe or when I get my own access. Thanks for your patience (especially the anonymous commenter on the last entry, who I strongly suspect of being a relative!) and I miss you all.

One Week

I don't have anything to really say, but one week! Crazy. I still need to get a stamp from the consulate.

Two Weeks

All right. Exactly two weeks before I leave the country.

In case you have no idea what I'm talking about, here's the gist of what I'm doing in France: I was hired on a seven-month contract through a program of the French government to be an English language assistant in a public school. I was (pretty much completely randomly) placed in a high school in Quimper, Brittany.

And in case for some reason you're reading this and don't know me: My name is Josh; I'm from the Boston area and just graduated college in Texas with a degree in linguistics.

Ok, with that contextualizing out of the way... When I first found out that I was being placed in Brittany, I was very excited. Brittany (or Bretagne in French) has a different heritage than the otherwise mostly Latinate cultures of France, owing to the double Celtic influence of both Gauls living there who predated the Romans, and Welsh migrants who settled there in the early Middle Ages. (Sorry if understanding of Breton history is a little muddled, I still find it a bit confusing...luckily I don't think any actual Bretons are reading this blog.) I've always been interested in the Celtic world-- to the point of taking an Irish Gaelic class when I was younger-- so I was excited to find out that I would get to experience a piece of it in France. Brittany also has its own native language, Breton, which is a member of the Brythonic branch of the Celtic family. Similarly to its sister languages, it was repressed for a long time but is experiencing a modest revival now. Needless to say, the French language seems to be the absolute standard for public-sphere communication-- it's not like I'll need to carry around a Breton phrasebook.

Brittany is a peninsula in the Northwest of France. It's the region in red on this map. It points at the North Atlantic like an angry finger (apologies in advance if you can't see images-- I can't figure out how to put in alt text):

After I found out the region I was going to be living in, it was a while before I would receive word of where I would actually be. Talk about grueling waiting. There were so many possibilities-- in Rennes or Brest, the two big cities (by French standards) in Brittany, or in the total middle of nowhere sleeping between some cows... it was totally up in the air.

Finally I found out I had been placed in Quimper. It's pronounced pronounced like "kemp aire", or for those of you who can read IPA, [kɛmˈpeʁ]. I get lazy and like to rhyme it with "whimper", because it sounds funny that way. I'm sure the people who live there will appreciate that.

It seems like a really great town. It's in the département (smallish administrative region) of Finistère, which literally means "land's end". As you can (maybe) see from this extremely confusing map, I'll be pretty much closer to home than I would be anywhere else in France:

Quimper is the center of an area called Cornouaille (cognate to Cornwall, just as Bretagne and Britain are related), which appears to be the region in Brittany which retains the most aspects of its traditional culture. Quimper seems to be very touristy in the summer, and not so much in the winter. It's about 60,000 people, and the center of its own micropolitan region, so this will be the first time I've ever lived outside of the area of a major city.

Just wait until I actually get there and everything I learned from Wikipedia and books is totally wrong. It turns out everyone in Brittany speaks only Kannada, lives in ice-houses, and spends 23 hours a day hand-sorting Necco wafers by color.

After receiving my specific placement (at a local high school), I contacted a very nice woman at the school and she informed me that there was housing for me there. Pluses: convenience, cheapness, low-hassle. Potential minuses: ...living in a high school dorm. I get my own room, but I still didn't expect to ever live in a dorm again. That said, it should be a good experience-- I'll probably get to know my students better by living with them, and will be exposed to a lot of the language. And the price is extremely right-- 33 Euro a month. Add to that the convenience of living at the one school where I teach (whereas many language assistants on this program have to commute between multiple schools), and it looks like I will have much more time and money than I might otherwise. Score! There will be a few other assistants at different schools in Quimper, so I'm looking forward to hopefully meeting them. Also, there is a German language assistant living next door to me, who was there the previous year and decided to return (a good sign), so I'll have a fellow foreigner around.

The school is on a road called Avenue des Oiseaux, which translates literally to Bird Ave. (which is kind of punny in itself if you think about it too much). Awesome.

Anyway, I'll stop writing for now because I could ramble forever. Sorry for the nerdfest, this will get more interesting when I actually start traveling... I'm getting very restless to leave, though already sad to say goodbye to my family and friends. On my way to Brittany, I'm stopping through Paris to stay with my good friend MJ, which I'm really excited for. I have a few friends who will be scattered throughout Europe, and I'm looking forward to seeing as many of them as possible. If any of you friends reading this are going to be anywhere in Europe while I'm there, let me know!

I hope everyone reading this is doing great. If you're starting school again (WFR), have an awesome year!