Les Derniers Jours

Aix-amens:
I've already mentioned the comprehension final that I didn't understand, but it turns out I did better than passably on it. For my written expression final with the same teacher, Madame Calvet, I thought I did just passably. And even though I got an entire verb-tense selection incorrect, I managed to do quite well all the same.

I've already mentioned that I believe I did quite well on my Histoire de la Langue presentation, well enough that I think regardless of how poorly I did on the written exam, I'll be receiving an A equivalent (70% or higher).

My other written expression class's final scared me to death because I mistakenly skipped a question out of two questions. But everything worked out in the end. If you want to know more about this one, I'm in the USA; ask me directly.

Phonetics had no final exam.

Finally, only thoughts of Littérature et Politique continue to hang over me. I took its exam Monday, so have had no opportunity since to speak with prof. I finished an hour (of three) early, but when I tried to turn it in, my professor deplored my slightly sloppy essay (France requires that all exams be in pen, so I had a scribble or two) and had me rewrite it, which took me the last hour to complete. But the real reason to worry here is that one can never tell what he wants you to talk about, is apparently a fairly harsh grader, and the exam was the only grade of the semester.

When I get my grades, I have no clue. So no point thinking about them further really.

Last Moments:
I spent a good amount of time in my last week in cafés, watching the Aixois linger past. Granted, the purpose of setting up with coffee or hot chocolate was to study, but truthfully that was much less interesting.

Happy Hour

Wednesday was our last happy hour, after which we proceeded to Cinéma Cézanne to watch Minuit à Paris, as I have already described in an earlier blog;

Thursday, I went to Pavillon Vendôme, a small museum just east of downtown. It was, as my friend Sarah Kay suggested, similar to a miniature Versailles - that's an oxymoron. It also had an abstract art exhibit that harmonized oddly with the classical ornamentation.

Atop Mt Ste Victoire

Friday, I hiked up Mount Sainte Victoire one last time with Ian and Sarah Kay. It was a beautiful day, perfect for wearing shorts, so it was a good thing I'd brought a pair with me to France. I finally took the red path (Les Venturiers) in descent instead of the blue (Imoucha). It was quite steep, and not really worth it: no views. But the whole hike in sum was absolutely marvelous. Ah Ste Victoire, you're walk is so short and so long. Much like my time in France. Much like life.

My trebuchet

Saturday, my program woke up early to go to Les Baux de Provence (The Bluffs of Provence). We wandered around an ancient castle. I saw Le Val d'Enfer, the vale that inspired Dante's depiction of Hell in his Inferno. I wound up a catapult for firing. We then had a two-hour lunch cooked by an heirless 86 year old French chef, Lolo, at his 400 year-old dug-into-a-mountainside house, and afterwards visited the grounds where Van Gogh interned himself after chopping off his ear, and where he painted Starry Night (La Nuit Etoilée). Typical day in France.
Saturday night was free museum night, so a bunch of us met up outside Musée du Vieil Aix, which was supposed to be closed until June, but was open exceptionally. As a testament to my progress in French, I crossed paths with a free tour in French, and proceeded to follow the tour guide around as she talked about things that weren't in my vocabulary (ie porcelain). But I understood everything just fine. From there we took a bus (it was late, so we were going to have to walk back) to Musée Vasarely, a geometrical art museum. And the art was actually good.

Lunch table

Garden for Van Gogh

Oppidum d'Entremont

Sunday, Ian, Cari, and I took a bus north of Aix to visit Oppidum d'Entremont, the ruins of the original Aix-area Celto-Ligure civilization, dating from the second century BCE. Obviously the ruins were so old that they were on top of a hill, so while we'd taken the bus up, we walked back to Aix in time for the barbecue that one our program directrices was hosting.

Barbecues are social places

Monday, we could really feel the impending departure. I bought my last baguette Monday. We all reconvened that night, drank the bottle of Bordeaux red that my mom had so generously given us.

Tuesday, last day. Full of goodbyes. My first class of the day and last class in France ended at 11:30 am. Done. I skipped breakfast so as to be able to eat more crêpes for lunch, and it was a great decision. After lunch, those who were still there, and didn't have class (only a few of us: me, Sarah Kay, and Ashley) went to Parc Jourdan to lounge in the sun. Eventually we headed resignedly back to Aix, where I bought one last crêpe. And we parted ways.
Last host family dinner. Pictures with the host family. Packing my suitcase as my host siblings commented on my possessions. Playing C'Etait Toi by Billy Joel so my host brother could critique his French accent.

My window, opened despite allergies for my last day in France

My last souvenirs of France.