Month: October 2009

I think I chose this title because this act, or however you call it, was the most bizarre thing that I witnessed this week. The show was brought to our attention (Katherine, Malou and I) by our Anthropology and Theatre professor, he considered it an excellent dance options of the season. It is mandatory to attend 2 shows, pick one, and write a final paper about it. So because he was very enthusiastic about this particular show, and because one of my closes friends is finish, I decided we should go. Let it be said that my friend warned be about finish art, rather she told me NOT to go. It must also be noted that my host mom asked me the day before where I was going to watch the show. “A l’Opera?” she said, “No, au Maillon,” I replied. Her face said it all. SO I had plenty of warnings, but I found myself last Thursday sitting there, completely exhausted after a day of internship, classes, and tutoring.

After the first few minutes of a very contemporary dance skit, I spent the rest of the show feeling as I had been transported back to the 60’s and 70’s when half of the world rebelled against society in some very forward ways. That it is: a piece built to denounce some serious social and political matters, such as immigration policies and child abuse. But nevertheless, throughout the show I saw a man’s behind, women’s breasts, an old man crucified on stage…I saw many things I did NOY expect to see that thursday night. Most importantly, the dances were not central to the piece, nor were they strongly used to make a point, they were just there…And tree hours later we left the Maillon. The next morning I could not explain my host mom how the show was, I just told her that neither her nor my host father would have liked it. In fact, they might have even left the show as some people in the audience did. It was only then that she explained why she made that face: le Maillon is a theatre that only brings contemporary pieces that always have an existentialist dimension. It is NOT a place where you will see a Russian ballet, except maybe the Rites of Spring.

So I have NO idea how Katherine and I will come up with 20 pages of a final paper about this extremely bizarre theatre piece, wish us luck.

Professors finally came around giving us a syllabus, mid-way into the semester. It is only NOW that I begin comparing the topics with my notes and realize the chunks that are missing. How I will pass my European Human Rights Convention final ORAL exam is beyond me. God help me. I never thought I would say this, but I do miss Holy Cross. I miss my classes, my professors. I miss thinking. But not so quick, I’m going to Barcelona next week for the break and THAT is certainly something I cannot do back at HC. This year abroad is about experiencing a lifestyle that I built, it’s not about interesting courses. So what happens is that I spend more and more time at my internship and have less and less desire to go to classes. And you must know that I never miss classes, ever. Here…I just might sometime.

So the break is coming up next week and I am leaving France for a few days, even though I have close to zero class work, I do need the break. Like I said, life is intense in the sense that I have the chance to do much more active stuff, like my internship. And I realized last night with my host mom that I’ve been here already for two months. Wow. Time flies. Despite the ‘different’ classes, I have no desire of leaving just yet.

See you after La Toussaint!

This past week was particularly charged with cultural events organized by our one and only Malou. Last Friday we managed, despite the rain and the godforsaken tram accidents that delay the entire system, to go to the Mussee Alsacien. The building itself is far more beautiful than anything inside it, but just going these reminded me of what a truly special city I am living in. When you go the museum and you see the typical Alsatian furniture, dresses and way of life, you really cannot say whether they are German or French. In fact they are both, and I find that truly fascinating. The many cooking instruments for bread were very French, but the heating seats were identical to those I saw in one of Kaiser Wilhelm II’s many castles. Alsace is really a ‘melange’ of both worlds. What I found most interesting is how, despite the change of nationality and language, Catholicism, Protestantism and Judaism have coexisted together for centuries all through Alsace. Except of course when certain kings decided to prohibit certain religions. But regardless, religions here just are, no fuss at all.

This Wednesday we went to what I think is the most unique visit one can make in France: la Cave des Hospices. Allow me to translate: the hospital cellar. Yes, in France, since only 10% of the population was able to pay for medical care in medieval times, people used to pay the hospital with wines that they non-chalantly cultivated in their background. And so we, that is HC students and those from several other American schools, were privileged enough to visit this cave that is hundreds of years old and managed to actually smell the oldest wine in the world ever held in a wine barrel. Oh yes, the oldest. It has only been drunk on three occasions, the end of WWII being the last one. And the of course came my favorite part: the wine tasting. Three glasses of Alsatian wine will make you feel just right 😛 What I love about Alsatian wine is that its clear, because white grapes grow best here, and its bubbly and light. It’s nice and smooth. Something creepy: next to the cellar they had a dissection room, where doctors would have prisoners quietly sneaked out of their cells, drowned in the bridge right next to the hospital, and then used the corps to learn about the human body “because back then we did not have x-ray machines,” as the guide kindly explained. I found it funny because I thought the Nazi’s were pioneers in prisoner experiments that have advanced science beyond believe. Silly me.

Culture aside, I want to share that this week I managed a miracle! I went to office hours in France! I stand firm on my preference for HC education over French education. It took me a week to find the emails of my law professors since the secretary did not have that or their office number.  But I was successful with my theater professor and it almost felt like I was back at HC annoying my poli sci professors for long hours with hundreds of questions. But this lasted about 15 minutes and most of it was about him asking me what Latin country I was from because he could tell from my French accent. Regardless, I succeeded. AND that’s not all. He has a writing workshop once a week! So I am planning on taking his assignment there to get it checked and feel a bit less clueless about the grading system in France. It’s almost like HC….But let’s face it, I am not here for the excellence, organization or dedication of the educational system. I can get my last dose of that next year.

À la semaine prochaine!

The term applies to my new position in the Scouts d’Europe. Before I tell you this story, you need to know that I am NOT into outdoors life AT ALL. As in, I have never lit a fire and I don’t do well in tents. Well, I am not only going to do that, BUT I am in charge of six 8-12 year old French girls for the year.

It all began the Sunday that I went with my host family to the ‘rentrée scout’, which basically means that vacations are over and scout outings begin again. My two host siblings are scouts; it is a family activity of generations.  So as she introduced me to her friends one of them had the lovely idea that maybe I could help out since they were short on leaders, and I naturally said yes. Of course, ‘helping out’, and being cheftaine are two different things. As the day progressed, I took pictures of the ceremonies, especially of my host brother Paul because he was initiating a new stage of the whole scout hierarchy that I do not entirely understand yet. The day was just lovely, while the scouts did their thing, the parents (and I) walked in the woods and stopped in different points to pray for the children. Afterwards we sat in huge clearing for a picnic with tons of families sharing their food. The ceremony ended with a mass out in the clearing where all the scouts participated and sang. It was a really nice day. But I thought the offer was not serious, until a week went by.

A week later we are all having dinner and my host mom tells me she got an email from the female chief inviting me to the cheftaine dinner so that I could chat with them and decide if I wanted to join. Of course I was never pressured into it, I felt honored to be invited and naturally said yes. Then it stuck me: I was going to be cheftaine though I had never done anything remotely similar in my life, we don’t have girls scouts in my country!!! However I want to the dinner and it was so amazing that I could not say no. The girls are so united and nice, these are 18 and 19 years olds who give up their drunken weekends to be leaders among little girls. That means they cannot be seen in the streets with a cigarette and they probably pass on partying the night before a scout outing. I find it admirable. The pictures were hilarious and the videos were even funnier. What is the harm in trying right?

Of course I told them I had never done scouts, though I have had my share of kids in nature (notably my peace summer camp this summer). But scouts in France are different, there is a religious dimension to it, introduced to the children through Kipling’s Jungle Book, and while I am honored, I am scared that I will not be good enough. Not to mention the fact that I am not French. But I am doing it anyway.

Last week we had the parent meeting where they met us and we introduced ourselves. They were all just so grateful that I am sacrificing my time to help the cause, how can I not be happy? I think I will get more than I will give in the end, I’ll speak French, I’ll learn something that is a big part of French life, and I’ll meet very very French people. I do think I am the first foreigner to do this though, and it will definitely be an adventure. So wish me luck!

Anyone who has learned some French history knows that manifestations and strikes are such a big part of their identity that it’s almost a normal occurrence of their daily lives. There was of course the French Revolution, which led to many other revolutions in the world, and from the last century, the strike of 1968. Last year HC students did not go to class because there was a massive university strike. It is just who the French are, and in all fairness, it is a right bestowed by all democracies. Last Thursday I witnessed a relatively small manifestation of farmers. Yes, because Strasbourg is the capital of Alsace and because it was October 1, all the farmers rolled on their tractors into Strasbourg and manifested in all of Centreville (right where I live).

Normally this would have been amusing, and it was, but it was also very inconvenient. It just so happens that that morning I was not aware of the manifestation (my fault for only listening to economic and international news) when I calmly took the tram from my house to my internship at the IIHR. I was so clueless that I did not think twice when I saw trucks and trucks of the French ‘gendarmerie’ around the European Parliament, the Council of Europe, and all the other very important institutions close to my internship. It was not until I left my internship at 12h and I walked (with my injured foot) to the tram stop that I read that ALL transportation was cancelled due to the manifestation. Thus, I had to walk (with an injured foot and ZERO sense of orientation) for almost two hours to get to a tram stop that worked and that would take me to my lovely CIEL classes. I was NOT amused. In fact, I am going to call it the worst experience here so far.

However, it was only awful because I could barely walk and because I was late to my class, not because there was a manifestation. Given that it was all happening in centreville, that is, between where my internship is and where my CIEL classes are, I found myself in the middle of huge tractors with signs that complained about how globalization and the free market are killing the farmers (you don’t say!) Also, I managed to see tons of sauerkraut – a critical ingredient of Alsacian cuisine – being towed by the tractors on the streets. This part was an enriching experience.

It was a very well organized manifestation, the kind I had only read about. Back in my little island you cannot really go out when there are strikes, because let’s face it, if the police don’t function on normal days they cannot be expected to handle a strike. And afterwards, I realized that cutting transportation is really nothing in comparison to how strikes go on in many other corners of the world.

The strike was over at the scheduled time and by the time I left my English student everything was back to normal.

Friday Malou took us to the Modern Art Museum in Strasbourg and I must say it is quite amazing. I have been to some awesome modern art museums (the Tokyo Modern Art Museum being the best so far) and I must admit this one is pretty impressive. The reason why is because Strasbourg is a very traditional city, and the region takes so much pride in their Franco-German history that you would not expect it to also have a museum with Picasso’s, Rodin’s, and Kandisky’s for you to appreciate free of charge. But indeed it does.

This week will be VERY busy for me, and, like I said last time, I will hop on the train Thursday night and visit Geneva for the weekend. So I shall write once again in a week!

A bientôt!