Oh, Internet! How do I love thee?

I’m drafting this post even though I know I may not be able to update my blog for awhile. We haven’t had Internet in our dorms for several days, and the campus-wide Internet just went down about half an hour ago. I promise I’ll be back in touch as soon as things are running again.

I’ve also been very busy with new friends. I’ve been spending a lot of time with Christophe and Vincent, fraternal twins (or “false twins,” as they would say) and Florient, all of whom live in the building that faces mine. Florient and I ran five miles on Saturday and five more on Sunday. This is something that I definitely hope to make a habit as I have been eating all sorts of wonderful things in generous quantities.

Saturday, after our run, Florient and I placed bets on the distance we’d gone. Five kilometers, he insisted. We’d been gone for an hour and fifteen minutes! Granted, we had stopped to stretch and had walked for a few minutes to lower our heart rates, but I knew that we had gone further. Finally, we agreed on the following terms: If we had run fewer than six kilometers, I would have to cook Florient an American meal. If we had run more than six kilometers, he would have to cook me a French meal. For those of you who know your conversions, five miles is about eight kilometers. Tomorrow night we’re eating French food at Florient’s apartment. He’ll still get his American meal from me, though, because Vincent suggested that I make a traditional Thanksgiving meal in November. Turkey, stuffing, mashed potatoes, cranberry sauce, and pumpkin pie. We only have burners, a toaster oven, and a microwave, so modifications may have to be made.

Stephanie, Colin and I also recently met Anika, a German girl who speaks English with a perfect Australian accent, and Gregory, who is from Cameroon and wants to practice his English with us.

With our new copains et copines (pals), Colin, Stephanie and I have been eating, dancing, bar-hopping, and speaking loads of French. I feel myself improving every day.

I miss you all dearly. More posts soon.

cqn qnyone even understand ,e§

We still have no Internet and French keyboards aren't a snap to get adjusted to. I'll post as soon as my fingers limber up, or when the WiFi is up, whichever comes first.

a drumroll for the rain, s'il vous plaît

I'd like to dedicate a post to Bordeaux's climate. For the most part, it's on the mark with what I expected from it. Temperate, sandy soil, windy--the sorts of things one expected from the Atlantic coast.

But Bordeaux's weather is a tricky, two-faced little monster. It rains an average of five or six times per day, I'd say. And it rarely rains unless it's [drumroll] sunny. That's ride. The old two-for-one sun and rain routine. At least it's not too cold.

Ah, that's right. It IS freaking cold sometimes. Mornings and evenings are brutal. I came a bit under-prepared for this chilliness with only an ultra-thin North Face fleece and a faux leather bomber jacket. Today I bought a really great wintery-yet-not-too heavy coat from H&M. Because I found it in the kids' department, it was trés cheap, too.

Colin is out of town this weekend visiting a French woman who was once an exchange student in Akron and lived with his family. Stephanie and I were invited out by three new friends of ours (Vince, his fraternal twin, and another kid whose name we're not sure was ever given to us), but Stephanie thinks [insert French name here] got my phone number wrong and we have yet to hear from them. I guess it's not too late yet because last night we met them as they were on their way out around 23:00. It could end up being a sleepy night in.

Ethan called me today to tell me that he and Monique (his host mother) will pick me up from my dorm at noon tomorrow to go dine at their house. I'm very excited to meet their family, but also disappointed that I may not make it to the market on the quay. It starts early, so if tonight ends up being one without plans, it's straight to bed for me.

Classes start Monday and I finally have my schedule set nearly in stone. Let's call it wet concrete. I have an 8:30 class Monday through Thursday, but I have most afternoons completely free. Somehow I ended up with a night class on Tuesdays. It focuses on literature written in the French language but not originating in France, so we're studying a lot of authors from the Maghreb (French-colonized north Africa), etc. The professor of that class, and of many of my other classes, is Mme. Abdelkader. She's this drop-dead gorgeous woman of Arab decent who gave me my interview during placement testing. I really liked her immediately, and she also highly complimented my speaking abilities. Not only that, but as I was leaving her office, I noticed several boxes of my favorite perfume, Lolita Lempicka, sitting on a shelf. Did I mention that in a previous post? Obviously we're a match made in heaven.

this post is short but read it anyway

I tested into the highest level courses at DEFLE. Ironically, these courses are called the "third degree." No kidding. It looks like I'll be in class more than those in lower levels, but hopefully not too much more.

Today's a busy day. I have a lot of professors to meet with for registration, and about a million other things on my mind.

la vie ne vaut à peine d'être vécu

I just created an account with Picasa, Googles image hosting service. Now you can view all my photos as a slideshow at the left of this blog. Or you can link to the album - just click below the slideshow. Check back as I'll be frequently uploading new photos.

I've discovered that it rains a lot of Bordeaux. Invariably, one dresses for a chilly drizzle in the morning, but then one is also invariably met by a shining sun and high temperatures in the afternoon. Once one has sucessfully adapted to afternoon weather (sunny and gorgeous), it cools down - A LOT - for the evening. Life is tough.

infos indisponibles pour le moment

I had to buy a new SIM card from Stephanie today. Fortunately, she had bought one without buying a phone because our friend Florian promised her his old cell. The card cost me 20 euro, but it changed my number. My new number (for those of you in the States) is +011 33.6.80.14.10.13. I'll try to learn to set up a proper voicemail tomorrow

Benji was nice enough to give me the SIM card from his phone before I left the U.S.A., but I bought a recharge on Orange without realizing that the card was from SFR. For those of you who are unfamiliar with French phone providers, this would be like buying Verizon minutes for an AT&T phone. I used the SFR minutes until they ran out (there were still quite a few left).

Tonight we waited too late for dinner again and were already desperately hungry by the time we started looking for a restaurant. (Our dorms have kitchens with burners but no oven or refrigerator. The investment in pots, pans and the like is hardly worth it when one can eat out so cheaply here. I do plan to buy a pot to make pasta and oatmeal from time to time, but other than that, I eat out every meal. Bonjour love handles.) After a long search, we settled on a wonderful Chinese/Vietnamese place we loved a few nights ago. Tonight I had a wonderful Asian salad, sautéed duck with pineapples, and banana cake with coconut milk to finish. I’m more than satisfied and ready for a good night’s sleep. In the morning I’ll meet Ethan on his long lunch hour, and then Stephanie, Colin and I are going to meet some French friend of Colin’s. Also on my list for tomorrow are: (1) buying a hair dryer (today I learned that in French it’s a seche cheveux); (2) buying a new TBC pass (TBC stands for Tram et bus de la CUB); (3) buying a backpack and (4) organizing the bottom right cabinet of my desk. Honestly, it’s a mess.

leave a note on my door to tell me that you're coming

For all those of you (Mama) who think you can't comment on posts without a Google account, it ain't true.

Just choose to leave the comment as "anonymous" and then sign your name at the bottom of the post. It's hard for me to send personal notes to all of you, but if you comment I'll try to reply.

Gros bisous. (Fat kisses.)

Here's me and Colin at a café yesterday. (Thanks, Jonah. Sorry about your wallet.)

suivez-moi, les animaux domestiques!

We had placement testing all morning to determine which class level we’ll attend throughout the first semester. I’ve seen my fair share of crowds, but I can safely say that I have never felt as much like a herded animal as I did this morning. There were hundreds of foreign students, the gross majority of them coming from the United States or Asia. There also seemed to be many students from Arab-speaking countries and lots who spoke some dialect of Russian. The French professors led us in groups of about one hundred to huge amphitheatres, where we were given our tests (in French, épreuves, or “trials”). I was glad to see that most were more lost than I. First we had to read an essay (it was about pets) and then answer a series of questions about the essay without repeating any of the text from the essay itself or the question word-for-word. The second trial was a listening exercise where the professor read a sentence and we had to choose the sentence we heard out of the group of three. There were other similar dictation exercises that followed. Next we had a writing exercise, which involved writing speech bubbles for pictures and then writing a one-hundred-word essay using about 12 expressions. Finally we were sent off to our interviews, where we were given a sort of oral exam. The professor who tested me was very beautiful with Middle Eastern features. She was also incredibly easy to talk to and asked me about my interests, my education, what I planned to do after this year abroad, etc. Then she gave me a short essay to read to her. I think I did quite well. She told me that I spoke at a very high level and that I shouldn’t have any problem testing high as well. She told me that I would profit from my studies here, but that a student at my level really should try to benefit as much as possible out of the classroom. It is by living, she said, that a student learns most. I thought that was very wonderful and welcome advice.

After the placement tests I went into the city by myself for the first time. I bought a few school supplies and then walked around, trying to orient myself. I didn’t get lost, which is a plus, and a I bought a book of that funny penmanship grid paper they use here. I absolutely can’t wait to use it.

I’ll have the results of my tests on Wednesday morning when I meet with an advisor. In the meantime, here are a few pictures of my modest dorm room. Excuse the underwear; I hung a clothesline.




I have my own sink, at least.

are you trop tired?

This photo update is overdue. I spent the past two days exploring the city with Stephanie, Colin, and Jonah (an American doing post-doc work at another university campus). To situate those of you who don't know Bordeaux, I'm living in Pessac, which is a sort of a suburb of Bordeaux. There is, however, a tram stop at the center of campus that takes me straight into Bordeaux in a matter of minutes.

At an exposition today, these 1600 plastic panda bears in front of the cathedral represented the remaining number of pandas in the world.

We stopped for canelés (a sweet muffin-like treat native to Bordeaux) at this open-air market, which takes place ever Sunday morning along the river (behind me in this shot).

Even the plainest streets are postcard-worthy.

We stumbled across this garden in the center of the city.

It's unbelievably picturesque here, and the weather is quite temperate, too (though it gets very cold at nighttime). Hopefully I'll be able to upload more pictures soon. I chose not to pay for unlimited Internet access this month and instead only paid for 50 hours. I have a feeling I'll upgrade for October.

Tomorrow morning I must take a placement test which will determine all of my courses for the first semester. There are four levels of courses, and I expect to test into at least the third. I feel as well-prepared as I could be. Last night I was roaming the city with some new French friends and was speaking so fluidly with them. We'll see. In the meantime, I need to get a good night's sleep.

send me letters to make me happy

All three exchange students from Kent State (Colin, Stephanie, and I) arrived safely and on time. Stephanie's luggage is still missing, but she's getting by.

Yesterday Colin and I trekked to Ikea on the north side of Bordeaux to buy rugs, sheets, and blankets. Along the way we were aided by a wonderful madame, Michelle. She is fifty-eight years old and lives near the quay. We chatted, she gave us directions (it turns out that Michelle is going to be a grandmother in December and was headed to Ikea to buy a baby gate) and we parted ways. We bumped into her again in Ikea and a third time at the bus stop on our way home. On our second rendez-vous, she gave us her phone number and insisted that if we ever felt depressed or missed our parents, we absolutely must call her. She actually said that she could be like our mother, and we her children. I'm so happy to have made a connection like this.

This morning was bureaucratic nonsense, running from office to office and being completely misled (one assistant in the DEFLE office actually told us that registration was finished and that we must go home and wait until the next semester.) Finally, we got the information we need for our cartes de sejour, which are like green cards. Placement testing is on Monday and we register for classes 16 September.

My brain's a bit too muddled to share more at this point. Speaking French all the time is really taking its toll on my mouth muscles. I'm quite sore! I also took a tiny nap this afternoon which reduced me to the brain capacity of a four-year-old.

In the meantime, I have contact information for those of you whom it might interest. My cell phone number here is 011.33.6.25.52.65.69 (for those of you with Skype who want to reach me on the go). I'm also using Skype for video chats and phone conversations under the username elizabeth[dot]suzanne[dot]brown (just like my e-mail handle). My mailing address is:

MLE Brown, Elizabeth
Village 5
D112
33608 PESSAC CEDEX
France

excuse me, this is a public loo

I actually ended up getting about 45 minutes of sleep between 03:45 GMT and 04:30 GMT. I won’t take any criticism about having packed towels rather than buying them in France because they really came in handy this morning when I was freezing to death on the terminal floor. I also unpacked a Ziploc bag of sweaters to use as a pillow, which I put on top of my purse. I wrapped my arms around my laptop and rested my back against my larger suitcase and my knees against the smaller. I woke up feeling just ever-so-slightly refreshed, and lay cozily under my oversize towel blanket for another 40 minutes before seeking breakfast.

I bought fresh raspberries and vanilla yogurt from Marks & Spencer and ordered a medium café latte from Costa. I know Costa is totally corporate and Starbucks-esque, but I actually think my latte may be the best I’ve ever had, and my desperation for caffeine doesn’t negate the praise. It was perfection.

After relaxing with my copy of Simple French Food (given to me by Kim Corkin), I gathered my bags and sought a trolley. Attention, America! I have found the American dollar’s strength in airport trolley rentals. Because of the respective sizes of these coins,* a luggage trolley may be rented for one £1 coin, one €1 coin, or one U.S. quarter. If you’re responsible enough to return the trolley, you get your coin back anyway, but of course I inserted a quarter as my personal way of sticking it to the weak U.S. economy.

*NOTE: The size of British coins seems to me completely arbitrary. Does it make any sense to me that a 10 pence piece ought to be larger than a £1 piece? No, it does not. This makes shuffling through one’s change purse to pay for a cup of coffee absolutely mortifying for those of us from cultures that subscribe to a larger-is-more philosophy. I’ve only have two monetary transactions here excluding the trolley rental, and both times I’ve broken down and paid with ten quid notes to avoid the embarrassment of hunting down £2.12 in coins. The cashiers look equally upset when I fuss with the coins as when I hand them the notes. I seem to be inconveniencing them either way.

After breakfast I set up camp in the ladies’ loo and spent way too long wrestling my short, unwashed hair into a ponytail. Six bobby pins and a barrette later… I had a lot of time to kill! The whole time the most adorable little English woman was watching me and making soft comments under the drone of the electric hand dryers. “Looks lovely, dear.” “I have hair spray if you need it, love.” “You really ought to powder your nose, dear. That shine isn’t terrible becoming on your complexion.” I was nearly annoyed but much too lonely to turn away a new friend and far too disgusting to deny that her criticism had merit. After she was satisfied with my transformation (I changed my clothes, too, since I had my bag open anyway) she asked me if I was from France originally. I had already told her about my plans to study in Bordeaux this year, but really – how poor a judge of an accent do you have to be to confuse French speak with American? I told her that I was from the States, from Ohio. “Oh! How lovely. That’s where I live,” she replied. I responded with surprise, asking her where she lived and for how long, etc. I won’t bore you with our exact dialogue; just know that this lady talked like Mrs. Doubtfire. Anyway, it turns out that she married a man from Akron and has been living in Cuyahoga freaking Falls (adjacent to Akron) for the past 19 years. She’s just back in Britain for a “wee visit.” It’s cliché, but it’s a small world after all.

I still have a couple of hours before I can even check in for my flight and I’m sick both of reading and of paying for Internet.

caution, the moving walkway is ending; please secure all clothing

This is [evidently] my first post on this new blog, whose purpose will be to keep in touch with all those of you whom I will not see for much of the coming year. Hopefully it's redundant to inform you, my dear friends, that I'll be spending the coming academic year at the Université Michel de Montaigne Bordeaux 3 near Bordeaux, France.

So I left Yellow Springs this morning, flying out of Dayton at 06:50 EST and arriving at Chicago O'Hare at about 09:00 CST. I flew from there to London Heathrow, where I wandered around what I certainly hope was the dirtiest, sketchiest section of the airport. Finally I found a middle-aged American couple headed to the same shuttle as I. We had a very uneventful 2-hour ride to London Gatwick (and when I say uneventful, I mean other than the terrifying reality of being in an oversized vehicle barreling down what I have been taught to regard as the wrong side of the road). I parted ways with my new friends, which now included a young Canadian married couple, to instructions to "have a safe flight." I honestly don't know why anyone says that as, in the end, we have absolutely no control. Then, one of my suitcases immediately tipped over into a puddle consisting of what, by its odor, must have served the purpose of extinguishing about a million cigarettes. Awesome.

I traversed the entirety of the south Gatwick terminal (towing my luggage) until I wandered into a Hilton that was attached to the airport. I was exhausted, but rooms cost around 230 British pounds per night. Instead I was directed to the payphones, where I called home collect to reassure my parents that I hadn't died or been kidnapped yet.

The person at the front desk of the Hilton sent me on what I am now nearly positive was a wild goose chase for something called a "yotel." Yes, that's like "hotel" with a "y." He said that there I would be able to rent a room on an hourly rate. After another half an hour (it was at this point 02:00 GMT, I schlepped my hundred pounds of cargo to the north Gatwick terminal because, as a very kind but challenging to understand old lady told me, British Airways does not fly out of the south terminal.

Upon arrival at the north terminal, I again started my futile search for the elusive "yotel," to no avail. Finally I found a really crap waiting area full of sleeping people and unattended baggage. I've locked my two large suitcases, and maybe I can sleep on top of them (avoiding the cigarette water, of course) and clutch my purse and my laptop to catch a few winks. At this point, it's almost 03:00 GMT and I should be able to check in for my flight tomorrow at about 11:00 GMT.

In the morning, I fully plan on making myself enough at home in the public loo to freshen up a bit before my flight to Bordeaux at 13:45 GMT. Then again, I already wasted a long time looking for deoderant before I realized that the girl next to me was emitting a much more offensive odor than mine.

I left Yellow Springs over 17 hours ago and I already miss Mama, Papa, and Hannah, but I'm also itching for the adventure ahead of me. More when I get to Bordeaux.