Song of the moment: Fortunate Fool- Jack Johnson
Dose of amusement: dedicated to vagsam and inspired by a special request by lo (if you think it's funny, imagine me doing it as my final anal. perf. piece as a sexy sex ed teacher :p)
Foucault quote of the day: "Don't think that by saying yes to sex, you're saying no to power"
Philosophical q of the day: If there were no liars would there still be lies?
Well I'm happy to report that I am writing from my destination, the Ardenne Abbey in the middle of beautiful rolling hills and mooing cows. Seriously, they greeted me, it was cute. But I must say that after a day like today it is a miracle that I'm here. Where to begin? At the top I suppose.
So after 11 and a half hrs on a plane, only sleeping one of those (partially because Ryan Gosling makes a hot lawyer in Fracture- and for the record i have not watched the notebook and i refuse cause it looks like crap, there i said it :p), I found myself in Charles de Gaulle airport. Before getting off the plane a french woman was making fun of my suitcase saying "stupid americans, who brings a suitcase that size to europe," asking a few people around her if it was theirs. I hung my head, not wanting to fight. Apparently you're only supposed to bring the clothes on your back when traveling. Regardless, I'm rather proud that I brought everything I need for two weeks and all my thesis books in a small carry on suitcase which I could easily lift above my head. I think it's the lightest I've packed in my life. My awesome single serving friend (if you haven't seen fight club we're not friends any more :p) who was starting her study abroad assued me it was okay.
Being France hit me exactly when I thought it would: the moment I passed through customs and went to navigate public transportation knowing little to no French. Now to preface- the moral of today's story will surely be what you are currently thinking "sarah, remind me why the hell you went to France when you can't speak a word." Point taken and granted. But if a school gives you a $3,000 summer, no q's asked, and you haven't studied abroad you take and run. So at the end of this I am bound to have one heck of an adventure. Plus, I can name at least 6 ppl who spent theirs on kegs. So to each her/his own posion
Any who, back to the progression of the day. I managed to get on my first RER train, which is like the metra. It goes kind of to the suburbs and is a bit more expensive and faster then a metro/el. I realized that paying for a ticket is hard when the prices aren't posted and I can't count past ten, but handing the woman the biggest bill I had did the trick. To bounce back I tried to feign confidence in where I was going, hoping I could convincingly play a snobby french woman which requires no words. That was quickly shattered when a gorgeous french boy approached me. Renaked told me not to smile at boys because it means I want to have sex with them, and after realizing my mistake I tried to force a frown. Apparently he was asking me to close the windown on the train which was open a bit. I got it after the gestures and an incredulous look. Just my luck the window was broken, which meant I had to keep closing it every few minutes, afraid I'd get yelled at again. The next transfer was my only official slip up. I accidentally took a train one stop in the wrong direction which I realized right away and figured I'd just get off and to back the opposite way. Well apparently going one stop put me in a new "zone" so I had to buy a completely new ticket to go back. Anyone who told me everyone speaks english lied. I only encountered one person who spoke english the whole trip. Don't get me wrong, that's totally cool. I hate that ignorant "everyone should speak english" bs. I'm in france I should be speaking french. So it's definitely my fault, but was frustrating none the less. Finally I managed to get on the right train and eventually figured out how to transfer to the train to Caen after a conductor yelled at me until I gave him money for a new ticket.
A few things I learned in the portion of the trip: sometimes signs will point you in the right direction and then just completely stop out of no where; a train's name doesn't always indicate which direction it's going in (ie a purple line linden train wouldn't go to linden); some trains only go half way; and trains heading in the same direction but to different points are on completely different platforms. good times.
Once on the train in caen it turns out I was sitting in some guy's seat, even though no one else but this guy seemed to have an assigned seat. He yelled at me, and then when I gave myself up, pathetically uttering in french that I'm sorry but I don't speak french and handed him my ticket, he realized there was no seat assignment and apologized while still making me move. Finally, I took two buses. To get to a bus a kind man explained to me in english where to go as I stood looking confused. It turns out, that if it says it's a transfer point for a bus, that means that somewhere with in two blocks in no particular direction could be one of the lines you need to transfer to. And if you find the line going in the wrong direction you can't just cross to the other side of the street but need to go a few blocks in two different directions. Needless to say, after this the cta can bring it cause I'm ready.
Sorry for that long ass rant about public transportation, I realized now that it's pathetic and my apologies. But navigating a foreign land for 4 hrs on public transportation (15 hrs traveling on 1 hr of sleep) was quite the adventure. The public transportation system in france is also really nice and clean, and I'm sure it's easy to use if you speak even the slightest French. So any of my issues can be attributed to my incompetence. The highlight of the traveling though was hearing a girl who had "suavemente" on her ringer. That's goin out to you marina ;) I almost started singing, and then remembered the aim of the game was to look pissed off at all times, and when in rome...
At last I found myself at my destination, the beautiful Abbey. Pictures will come tomorrow, as I am exhausted. Fortunately, the one woman who speaks english at the Abbey was working today and was very helpful. She also gave me a much needed cup of coffee, breaking my two week long detox from any caffinated product (which is quite the accomplishment given I was having a huge thermos of coffee, a soda, and a double shot of expresso to get me through my work day and dancing habit). She introduced me to the Directer of the archives who greeted me with a long and warm welcome of which I understood nothing. The woman explained that I could read but not speak french and the woman said "You do know that Foucault writes in French?" Ouch. That was some colder than ice stuff there. I nodded my head and said "oui." (for the record, the abbey has stuff in both french and english)
Demoralized, I was ready to give up on the day, so exhausted I was sure the whole day had to be a dream. But it turns out dinner isn't served monday nights so I needed to bike to the grocery store. Well it turns out that I haven't biked since I was, oh about 6. The fact that the bike was made for a 6' 10'' man and they couldn't lower the seat didn't help either. I had to stand on my tippy toes with one foot and quickly swing the other leg over before I fell. I almost ate it every time I stopped because I would have to let the bike fall a bit before my feet could touch the ground. After traveling on streets with no names, making my map useless, and realizing that I had foolishly set out looking for a grocery store without knowing what grocery store was in french I contemplated how long I could go with out food, and if the answer was not very, which cow would go first :p. Then, miraculously, I found it. I picked up a scrumptious dinner of fresh french bread, brie, grapes, and the biggest bottle of syrah I could find and suddenly the grocery store was my new favorite place. All I needed to know was "pardon" and "merci" to make my way in and out.
And that my friends is where I currently sit, enjoying a good glass of syrah in bed. Contrary to the day's events, life is indeed good. Tomorrow I have the dreadful task of meeting the scholars a breakfast. I don't know a soul and the woman informed me that I'm the only person my age, and the only person who doesn't speak french staying. super. at least the isolation will inspire me to work. this whole thing still seems like a dream.
well sorry for the long email, i promise to try and keep it short in the future. i couldn't help it since today was a day of a lot of firsts. i'm going to watch the devil wears prada...err i mean, i don't own it...err crap. I outed myself. It will be nice to listen to someone talk and understand for the first time today and I figure since it's in paris, and it taught me my second most popular phrase today: J'suis désolé (i'm sorry). And i also must practice some new phrases renee taught me, seriously, renee has saved my life on this trip. i'm proud to be bearing her child in return.
Well night all, I hope all is well in your worlds! i miss you!
