Blogging in the Rain

When it rains, it pours. For a city that has clear blue skies three hundred days a year, Aix has sure dropped a lot of water today.

Which is why I am now sitting inside blogging. It's as good a time as any (better) to finish background information, so I can just tell stories in the future.

Food:

Not really French food, but it tasted good:

Food here is great. The French love bread. I love bread. The French think of fruit as a dessert. I'm inclined to agree. My host family thinks bleeding bird makes an appetizing dinner. I think it makes an edible one. Well it wasn't really bleeding, but it sure looked like it would. I ate seconds anyway.

On the flip side, cheese is a well known staple of the French diet. I'll suffer through it; the bread that is served with it far more than makes up for it. Mushrooms have appeared a little more often than I would like as well, but I hardly notice them in most of the dishes, and would much prefer an authentic meal experience to one catered around my petty dislikes, which I've realized are not quite as strong as I'd thought.

Oooooh, anecdote: Apparently there's some stereotype that American's don't like spicy food. Eve (my host sister) told her mother that I shouldn't be eating poulet indien (Indian chicken) because it was too hot. I hadn't noticed that it was the least bit spicy. In conclusion: Americans out there, stop being wimps.

Courses
There are five levels of French here:

Fort City of Gordes. I'm about to attack.
Just for the challenge of it.

• I:   Beginner
• II:  Low Intermediate
• III: High Intermediate
• IV: Advanced
• V:  Superior

Before leaving for France, I got courses from levels III and IV pre-approved for credit at Pitt. Last Friday, we took a placement test that encompassed listening, grammar, reading, writing, and oral assessments, in that order. The only one that took place tête à tête (head to head, I'm pretty sure it's infiltrated English though) was the oral portion, where I was informed that I was High Intermediate. So much for my ambitious hopes of Advanced.

Then we got the results Tuesday: I was placed into Superior. I might have dropped a level, but I was quickly told that level V was probably too hard for me. And while I might try to correct a mistake, I can't resist a challenge.

I haven't taken all of my courses yet, but the core courses seem manageable. I will also be taking Histoire de la Langue Française, which is about the evolution of the tongue itself, and Phonetique, which will hopefully improve my miserable accent.

Think I'm being self-deprecating? At phonetics lab, the professor asked me to read a short poem in my best French accent. After hearing me, she laughed. Then she thought for a few moments. Then asked if I had an apparatus in my mouth (to which I tried to explain that I wear a retainer at night). The finally told me to improve my French by going to a mirror and saying "ooo" and "aaa" to get my lips to move more.

I'm going to have to take one course beyond that, either Literature et Politique or Histoire des Idées, but seeing as I haven't had Monday or Tuesday class yet, I haven't gone to either, and thus haven't decided.

Oh, and Fridays are free for me.

 

A typical Friday, I believe.

Piano
My host family has a full electric piano here. 'Nuff said.

Guess that's it.

"Whoa. Wait. It's Tomorrow There."

By the way, I'm alive.

Jet lag was not particularly significant; I didn't come near falling asleep on my feet at any point. Given that, I think I've over adjusted, because my internal alarm wakes me up at 7 am. Well, when my host family doesn't.

My host family is wonderful. When I first arrived on Tuesday, I was greeted first by their dog, Ermine, who is a very friendly little critter [on a related note, the first morning, I discovered that I had unsuccessfully closed my bedroom door, and Ermine was very keen to make sure I was only sleeping, not dead (my bedroom came very well decorated, complete with framed posters of The Beatles, Led Zeppelin, and The Simpsons)]. After Ermine, my host mom came out and met me, followed by Charles and Eve, her 12-year-old son and 10-year-old daughter. Charles speaks a mile a minute, so I frankly I don't really know him. I picked up "Je fais du sport" (I play sports), but that was the extent of it. I learned later from my host mom that he had been going biking. While she took him to biking, I was left with Eve to speak French. I'm not particularly good at having a conversation with someone half my age in English; French was challenging to say the least. It didn't help that she speaks nearly no English yet, but I'm not complaining. It's a good experience. Later in the day, I met my host dad, who's just as friendly as everyone else here, and Manon, my other host sister. She's in her first year of college in Paris, and will be returning there today. Oh yeah. Charles plays Call of Duty. I think that's been the hardest blow of culture shock.

Church near the school. Parts of it date back as far as
the eleventh century, and there's remnants of Roman-era
road inside.

Yeah. That's right. I've experienced virtually no culture shock. I don't want to speak too soon, but I haven't found the move a quarter way around the world to be all that intimidating. Sure, there are some differences: the frugality regarding electricity and water (though I still can't reconcile that with there being champagne that costs much less by volume than water), the distance maintained by strangers (it is very odd to smile at people on the street, though I have found that if you step out of someone's way so they can pass you on a narrow street, they absolutely brim with joy - as in they smile. Also, the Aixois love exact change. Give a waitress exact change, and she'll forgive you for being American. Don't tip either, unless service is particularly good, because it's included in wages here...okay long aside over, where was I?), and the pervading language of, gasp, French. No, I have not mastered French yet. There is no chance of me placing into the top level of French here.

Fountain in a square. Italian-inspired design. Apparently some
resident of Aix was not impressed with his backyard view, so
he bought the land across the street, tore down the houses,
and had this constructed.

Classes still haven't started, and they don't until Wednesday. Which is a good thing, because I don't find out my class schedule until Tuesday. It's not like that's a short turn around or anything, but nowhere near as long as my walk to class [20 minutes, 1.6 km (1 mile), which wouldn't be such a big deal, except I expected it to be a good bit warmer here than it is. The average highs are in the low to mid fifties, but it's been low forties or lower since I've got here (from now on temperatures will be in Celsius). Hopefully it will warm up soon, January's the coldest month in Aix, and the snow I saw a few days ago is extremely rare].

In order to maintain the superior quality of my blog, I will stop here - don't want to overwork my mind. Tune in next time for discourse on courses, food and academic.

An Explanation

Hey. So, I searched my soul, and I decided it would inexcusable not to blog while in Europe. That said, I just can't take a blog very seriously.

Here's where I'm coming from: Suppose I sit down and write a blog about my life. It would be just about as interesting as if I did that in Pittsburgh. As my friend, you would feel mildly obligated to read my blog. "Hey, Rubin's in Europe! I gotta hit up his blog, know exactly what's going down in his life!" Pshh. Yeah right. Obviously you'd check my blog regularly at the outset. Maybe you'd read my first two posts. Then you'd start skimming through them, feigning interest. Eventually, you'd start wondering why you even bother. And since I couldn't stand to cause my friends overwhelming guilt and grief, I might delete the blog to ease your pain. In any case, I wouldn't blame you, even if I did expect you to hang onto my every word.

But I figure I'll keep it as interesting as I can. I'm going to make stuff up. So when you read about alien invasions, sagas of seduction, etc, only believe ninety-five percent of it. But the majority of these posts will be genuine.

I finally got my housing address today. Veritably, I got my address today. As I got a homestay (whew, sigh of a relief/joy), I won't be giving out that address to non-family members until I actually meet my host parents.

Oh, I still don't leave for Aix-en-Provence for almost two weeks. I have a short layover in Amsterdam (scarily short, I hope I can get through customs fast enough). If you're wondering. I'm all set, if not packed. And now you're up to date.