One Month Down!

Hey everyone! Sorry it's been so long since my last blog, I guess I've been pretty busy...and procrastinating... so I definitely have a lot to say this time. And since I'm catching up on everything, I'm going to have a separate Florence blog, because it deserves its own, and I will hopefully post it tomorrow. So I'll just get right to this catch up blog.

I know that I've been meaning to write a lot about cultural differences in this blog, but I didn't have my black book with me because i couldn't find it...story of my life... but now I do have it and so I only have a few this time. The first is just so European. I walked to the hypermarché (supermarket) the other day and there is an enclosed basketball court that people have turned into a concrete soccer field. The hoops have long been abandoned and the basketball lines on the court have worn away from the sneakers and soccer balls. It's funny really. And I also noticed since I was wearing my sweatshirt and jeans on my walk, that the French always look nice. I know it's a stereotype, but their dress down is a blouse and jeans for girls, and there are definitely no sweatshirts or sweat pants in sight. Oh, and no Uggs here either (sorry Pam). But I can’t really talk because my clogs don’t seem to be fitting in well either. They make that brushing noise against the pavement, and I never thought anything of it, but apparently the French do. Erin, Sara and I counted the looks I got from my shoes scrapping against the ground and it was well above 20. It is not an exaggeration when I say that people heard my shoes, stopped walking, and turned around. It sounds too extreme, I know, but I am not kidding. I dunno if they thought like someone was sweeping the pavement or something but they stared at my shoes and I couldn’t do a thing about it because clogs work like flip-flops except with a brushing sound. If you don’t want the noise then you’d have to pick your legs up in an extreme marching position, so I’m not sure which is worse, me walking regularly and sounding like a street cleaner or me walking like a mentally challenged soldier. Needless to say, those shoes are now in the back of my wardrobe.

Anyway back to the French dressing up all the time, Erin was talking to a French student at the college and he said partly the reason that he can tell if a girl is American is because they wear sweatshirts and sweatpants. This is soo typical United States, because when I think about it, everyone dresses like that; you can even say its trendy. If your not going out for the night, why dress is anything else? Well, I obviously will not be telling French guys anytime soon about Britt, Cait's, and my wearing pajamas to high school everyday. Well, not so much Cait because she was always more proper, but whatever. Andddd I don't know if I mentioned this because I had already realized this from my first trip to France, but the French take their dogs EVERYWHERE. The other day when I was in Zara, I was looking at pants and I bent down and a dog (just like Shannon's dog) came up and licked me. I think its really cool that their dogs are obedient enough to not do anything bad in stores and stuff (because we all know Missy would probably eat the store), but it never ceases to surprise me when their in the most unconventional places in terms of American standards.

Oh, and I do want to mention that dairy is kept at a warmer temperature here and I kind of like it except for the fact that I'm probably going to die of food poisoning. For instance, the milk for breakfast everyday is in milk jugs (sadly not acidophilus Shan) just sitting out at room temperature, and when I bought cheese at the supermarché it was like kind of cold, but no where near as cold as it is in the states. They say that keeping it slightly chilled brings out the all the flavors (just like Iron Hill’s beers temperatures!), which is definitely true and delicious ... but it also brings out salmonella.

Also, its been a month and I'm seriously convinced the people here never work. Not only do shops and restaurants close in the middle of the day, but Sara and I were shopping last Monday at 3:00 pm and the sidewalks were so busy with people, strollers and dogs that it seemed like it was a Saturday afternoon (I'd say it's like Sunday afternoon, but literally EVERYTHING in town, is closed on Sundays: shops, supermarkets, restaurants, movies, arcades, stands, etc, and you can't do a thing) So that's that for this week's culture conundrums.

So back to the real topics at hand, it has officially been a month since I began living in France, and I can happily report that as much as I miss you guys, I have no desire to come home at all. Actually, I already discussed this with Becca, but I found that the only thing I can really bring myself to miss is the river. Lately I was wondering why I miss it so much since I wouldn't be there at this time anyway, but I realized that since its my favorite place in the world, and its where all my closest friends and family go, I think I have subconsciously allowed myself to miss my family and friends through the association of the river. And I know it sounds stupid, but I came to this conclusion being that I told myself I wasn't going to allow myself to think about missing anyone because I knew it would make me sad and I just want to be as happy as possible here. I have been doing pretty well with leaving my past in the past, moving forward and basically living off the advice of 500 Days of Summer, and I really want to believe that I was so dreadfully unhappy the past 6 months before I left so I could be my happiest here.

But enough about the mushy stuff, let's get back to what I am actually doing here. Today we switched classes and got a lot of new students! yay! Now with our tiny American group (minus Sara and Paige who are in a new class) we have two Mexicans, one Spanish, one Chinese, and one Kenyan. It’s so interesting hearing their own accents come into French and I loveeee it. Having all these different cultures combining and sharing different ideas from home is so much more invigorating than having just the seven of us Americans talking about things we already know. So, I think I’m going to like this class better, even if Claude still is my teacher :-).

Last night I also started my art class! I am so excited because as much as I wanted to do the cooking class since I can't cook, I love art soo much more, so I think that this is a great thing for me. Alors (so), Erin and Becca walked me to my class which is at Association des Beaux Arts, right next to museum and the Medieval Tower overlooking Cannes, and I walked down stone steps and into a tiny buiding and met my new art teacher. He is gorgeous might I add. I mean I didn't really think about it at first while he was talking because I had almost no clue what he was saying because I didn't know who I was supposed to be talking to, but then he asked me what kind of art class I wanted to take and stuff and I started getting better. The only thing I'm scared of is that there's a lot of art jargon I don't know (I guess I'll be doing research on it this week) and it really hinders the conversation when I have to ask him what a word means. But in his lax style, he tore off a piece of paper from an old calendar and gave me a list of supplies, which is sucky since I have all my oil paints at home, but yea I'm kind of happy there's no syllabus because it makes me feel better that art doesn't need any sort of organization.

The other exciting thing about this class is that there will be no English whatsoever. None. I mean I've taken classes where we speak in only French, but its always in a room filled with anxious English speakers, speaking in incorrect French grammar, and whispering in English to each other about what some random word is in French. This is different. My teacher couldn't even tell me in English that he doesn't speak good English. And that's hard to find. Tons of French people speak English because they have to start learning it in elementary school, which could get me started on the American school system and languages, but I'm going to choose to refrain. Anyways, so all the students are French and he's French, obviously, and he didn't even know if my accent was English, Australian, or American, and that is a beautiful thing. And when I apoligized for not knowing all of the art lingo and making him explain things to me he said that it was okay because when I start the class I will come to realize that art doesn’t need words to be understood. I’m in love. Forget the math boys (haha Reyna); it’s the artsy ones now.

I also started my Art History class today and I’m already obsessed. Erin, Sara and I are taking it together and I can tell that I will be looking forward to this class every Monday and Thursday. It’s two hours and held in the theatre so we can see the paintings really big. There’s about 10-12 of us and our teacher, Corrine, tells us a little about the period we’re learning about then show us paintings and ask us what we pick up on. I might not know a lot about anything, but this is seriously my life. I would like nothing more than to spend every day talking about art, books, language, and writing sooo this class is going to be fun for me being that it includes a bunch of these topics at once. The cool part about this too is since its all in French, it will help me with my French art vocabulary and help me get a different perspective. Bucci has taught me well, so I am sure that I will be able to figure everything out!

The other thing I wanted to mention is how much I am enjoying RUNNING everyday. Yup. I run. I am a runner. I was run-en. Yeaa so anyway, I run along side of the Mediterranean everyday on the sidewalk for about 45 minutes and it is amazing. I would say that I run along side the beach, but there really isn't much beach right now with the full moon. The waves have gotten to the point where Erin and I were running and a wave came over the railing and soaked us. I really always hated running, and I think everyone knows how I like to bike, but since there's no chance for a bike around here, running has become my new thing and I really like it. I mean maybe in two weeks I'll be like "yea I'm over the whole running thing," but for now, I love feeling the ocean spray, watching the mountains jump and down with each of my steps, jogging in tune to my awkward melange (mixture) of rap songs, and listening to bits of French conversation as I pass by. Maybe I’ll even be able to run with Roo one day. Probably not. But maybe.

And lastly, I just wanted to talk about last weekend’s events. Friday was the most fun because Steph, Sara and I made the 7 mile journey on foot to Le Chateau de la Napoule and it was awesome, and probably one of the coolest things I have done here so far. All the pictures are posted on facebook, I threw in some of the artsy ones and there’s a lot of fun ones too. The couple that renovated the Chateau was a little more than strange, but I explain it all in the album- “But I Can’t Stop Taking Pictures in a Place so Picturesque.” And then on Friday and Saturday night, Becca, Steph, Erin and I went to Morrison’s Irish Pub, and seriously we need a new place to hang out. So we’re on the lookout for a new bar. Other than that, we relaxed on Saturday outside because it was sunny and gorgeous and then Sunday we watched Shutter Island on Erin’s computer. I was scared, obviously, but it was still pretty good.

Ok, well you guys are all caught up on everyday life here, so onto my trip to Florence from two weekends ago! Geeze I’m behind! Thanks for reading, as always, and I love you and miss you all!