Going away, again

Tomorrow I'll leaving France once again on what will be the tenth plane I've taken this year. That's a lot of flying, and by now I think I could recite the "In the unlikely event of a loss of cabin pressure..." speech in my sleep.

See you next week.

Five months: Aix in the winter versus the summer

When I arrived in Aix, it was January 3 and the town was alittle bleak. After all, we even had snow a few days after my arrival! These days things look quite different, especially given that it's regularly over 85ºF during the day. Here's a quick before-and-after of a few parts of town.

Le Cours Mirabeau.

Parc Jourdan.




And of course, the university.

Finished with yet another class

Friday is technically the last day of Expression Ecrite, but as I won't be there, today was my last day in that class. Campbell and I gave our final presentation, on Le foot en France, which our professor seemed to like. I've now finished with two of my classes here in France.

Speaking of school, there was good news this weekend: many French universities decided to stop striking. Of course, six are still on strike, including La Fac in Aix. Among the problems for French students? Their student loans and scholarships might not be renewed for next year if they don't have finals this semester. If there are no finals, students might have to retake this schoolyear—Damien's girlfriend, for example, will probably have to spend an extra year at university because of the strike. Students can't apply for summer jobs or internships because they don't know when they'll be done with this semester. And foreign exchange students are in real trouble as they can't even book their plane tickets home.

The picture above is from La Fac. This is week sixteen of strikes, and the school is still under blocage—in essence, student unions pile up chairs and desks so that neither faculty nor students can enter the school.

A pool, some wine, and sunshine

One of the many downsides to the strike was that I didn't take classes with French students, and so don't know a huge number of young French people. Among the people I do know is Damien, a French student who lives the nearby village of Meyreuil. This weekend, he was having a barbecue and he'd invited me and some of the other American students.

We took a bus to Meyreuil, which is about half an hour from Aix. Meyreuil itself is a very small but pretty village that resembles suburban America: big houses with lush gardens. (Guess who forgot his camera?) Damien lives with his family, which means he lives in a large house with a big patio and, yes, a swimming pool. He asked that we took wine or pastis, and he'd cook.

There were about six French people, a German and a Hungarian (who were, improbably, a couple), and four Americans. The French kids all knew some English, but the German and Hungarian kids didn't know much French, so we kind of switched between French and English.

For lunch we had tabouleh and pasta salad, then the merguez sausages that are oh-so-popular in Marseille. Oh, and rosé wine and pastis. It was all really delicious and I met some really interesting new people there.

But here's the best part: the sun was shining, we had clear blue skies, and I got to go in the pool. And when I got home last night I saw I'd tanned... quite a lot. If this is la vie française, sign me up right away.

Today is the back-to-reality day: I did homework. It's been tough to focus, though, as it's swelteringly hot in the apartment and all around Aix. I'm writing at 7 p.m. and the outside temperature is 31ºC—which is almost 88ºF. Apparently, it's the beginnings of the cagnard—"a suffocating heat"—that pervades Provence from June to August. If only the Provençaux had air conditioning...

Using iTunes abroad

Back in the fall, my final paper for a communications class argued that DRM—digital rights management—technology wasn't a problematic way to restrict music and movie piracy. I said enforcing anti-piracy laws was a better strategy, and the paper got an A.

Being in France has further confirmed my belief. See, all DVDs are region-coded, which means if I buy DVDs here in France and ship them back en masse to the U.S., they won't play. Region coding is ostensibly to prevent people from buying DVDs cheaply in one region and exporting them to another for profit.But it also means that if I wanted to rent a DVD here, I wouldn't be able to play it on my American laptop... "hacks" excluded.

Here's an oddity that really frustrates me. There's nothing to stop me going into a store today and buying a French CD—it'll work anywhere in the world in any CD player. Yet the iTunes store won't let me buy French music online. Many French songs aren't in the U.S. iTunes store, but because my iTunes account has an American credit card and billing address, I can't buy those tracks.

I understand there may be legal licensing issues at play, but given that I could buy the CD in person, how do the iTunes restrictions make sense?

One down...

Today my group and I gave our final presentation in France en Perspective. It was on nuclear energy in France and seemed to please our professor, Claude. This means FeP is essentially over: I'm going to go next week to listen to other presentations, and that's it. One class down, four to go. It's a shame, actually, because FeP is probably my favorite class here. Claude is funny and has an answer to all of our questions, and the class itself was really interesting without requiring too much work.

Otherwise not much news for you. The universities are still on strike here which poses yet another big problem: students who don't take exams this semester (ie. those at universities that are on strike) won't have passed this semester, and thus won't be eligible for the entirety of their scholarships in the fall semester.

Tomorrow the forecast high is 27ºC—a toasty 80ºF! I get to sleep in, too. Normally I have class at 9 a.m. on Wednesdays but, as was the case with a different class on Friday, my professor just won't be there tomorrow. I could learn to love the French school system...

Cannes you believe it?

I just couldn't avoid a title like that, I'm afraid. Anyway, Saturday was our trip to the Cannes film festival, and as promised, we got to see two different film screenings. The first was an Australian film, Three Blind Mice, about three soldiers about to be sent to Iraq. It was excellent, and if/when it comes out on DVD, I'd definitely recommend it. It's comedic, tragic, thought-provoking, and light-hearted all in one. The acting and writing was really fantastic.

After lunch we saw Ordinary People, which follows a young boy in the Serbian army. He has to take part in the killing of Croats during the war. But the film just wasn't very good: the lead actor showed little emotion, every shot lasted several minutes without any action, and it was just drawn-out and dull.

Afterwards we went to the center of Cannes where the bustle of the festival takes place. The port was filled with huge, expensive yachts, and people were crowding everywhere to stare at the red carpet. We eventually managed to push forward to only a few feet from the red carpet and its assorted camera crews, but I didn't see anybody famous. Some other students in our program saw Quentin Tarantino and Tara Reid, however.

Finally we had some time to walk around Cannes a little more and go to the beach. Cannes is a beautiful town and, judging by the yachts and Ferraris we saw, attracts lots of money during the film festival. Cannes is about two hours by bus from Aix, though, so we left at 8 a.m. and didn't return until almost 11 at night. But still, for the chance to see films at the Cannes festival, it was definitely worth it.

Rainy Friday

My class today is canceled because the professor went away for the weekend, and outside it's grey and raining, which seems like the perfect opportunity for a blog update.

This week I've really started to study—seriously! On Tuesday I have to give a presentation on nuclear power in France and on Wednesday I need to hand in an outline of my final paper on Jules Ferry. On June 3 my history of religion paper is due (10 pages on the Catholic League...), and five days later I'll turn in six pages on journalism in France. The Jules Ferry paper's due June 10, and on June 18 I'm finally done after a test in the history of the French language. Honestly, it won't be that bad.

Tomorrow we're going to Cannes for the famous film festival. As Cannes is far from Aix, we at 8 a.m. which means I may have to set my alarm as early as 7. However, we are seeing two film screenings and hopefully getting to climb the red carpet steps. The films are Three Blind Mice directed by Matthew Newton and Vladimir Perisic's Ordinary People. And other than that, I know nothing about the films.

The latest news on the Fac is that university unions are still unhappy; they demonstrated in Paris the other day, although Sarkozy remains firm and says he won't change his mind.

Finally, two people know from the Michigan have also started travel-around-Europe blogs: Molly, who's hoping to visit ten different countries, and Patrick, who's doing something-or-other in Ireland.

Stuff French people like

Stuff French people like: nuclear power.
A 2001 Ipsos study found that nearly 70 percent of French citizens approve of nuclear power. Nuclear power, of course, generates about 80 percent of France's electricity.

Stuff French people dislike: Nicholas Sarkozy.
The French president's approval rating is now somewhere between 30 and 40 percent.

Studying. But not really.

Now that I'm back from break, I have to do a whole semester's-worth of work in one month. That's why I spent yesterday and today typing and reading online about French history.

But studying here isn't as easy as in Ann Arbor. In Aix, the library is closed on Mondays, so I couldn't get any books for my research. And even if it was open, there's no wifi at the library. Compared to the University of Michigan library, where I can get books almost any time of the week and research online, studying at the Bibliothèque Méjanes seems a bit... pointless.

Another scholarly problem: the French department at home announced a new class that I wanted to take this fall called Spoken French: The Artistic Challenge. It sounded really interesting, and among the requirements was, "Prior daily contact with one of the many varieties of spoken French is desirable"—something I am obviously doing now.

I couldn't sign up for it online, though, because I don't have enough French credits. I do, based on the classes I'm currently taking, but they won't appear on Michigan's computers until July or August. I emailed an advisor and managed to sign up for the class. Yet this just goes to show how different our schedule here in France is to that of Michigan. Michigan's last semester finished at the end of April and spring classes have already started; I only just learned the topics for my final papers and presentations.

One final note: last night for dinner we had mussels and snails, both in garlic butter. I'd had them both before and liked them, although after a whole meal the taste of garlic butter is a little overpower. Mme G told me she thinks trying French cuisine is an equally important part of studying abroad, and I agree—especially given how delicious it is!

Back to normal

Well, since getting back from Dakar it's been back to normal here in Aix: ie. going to classes again. I actually have a fair amount of work to do now as most of my classes are done by June 10, so I only have a few weeks in which to do, effectively, a semester's-worth of school work.

Oh, and La Fac? They and 19 other French universities are still on strike—which makes this the 14th week they've gone without classes.

For some reason Thursday there was an exposition des Ferraris on the Cours Mirabeau. And they had Ferraris of all types: new ones like the F430 and 612, as well as older F355s and Testarossas. It's hard to tell which there were more of: Ferraris or people staring and taking pictures.

Friday was a national holiday to commemorate the Allies liberating Provence from the Nazis in WWII, so there was no school and I went to the beach in Marseille. However, it wasn't really all that sunny so we left early and went to eat near the Vieux Port.

This morning I went to the markets which Mme G and we bought three intriguing items: more steaks de cheval (horse steaks), as well as saucissons d'ane and saucissons de sanglier—donkey and wild boar sausages. Believe it or not, all three are actually quite tasty.

I eat some strange things here in France!

Five days in Dakar: Part 2

The next day I was woken up at 5 a.m. by the call to prayer emanating from Dakar's mosque, not something we have in Aix. And then I was woken up again at 7 a.m. by the early sunrise. Once it was actually daytime, Alex and I went to the Ile de N'gor, a small island not far from the coast of Dakar. To get there, you take pirogues from the beach, which are boats only in the sense that they float. The bottom was filled with water and the boats aren't much more than elongated canoes that can hold far more people than you'd expect. If I recall correctly, it cost 500 CFA per person for the roundtrip. Which is $1.

The island is very, very pretty, with big houses that are presumably very expensive—people tell me that singers Akon and Peter Gabriel have, at separate times, lived on the island. On one side, you stand above huge cliffs facing the Atlantic Ocean, and it's really desolate; we saw a driftwood sculpture and a man fishing. On the other side, facing Dakar, are numerous beaches. They look like they came straight from a postcard for tropical island vacations, although there are few spots on sand left which haven't been commandeered by locals who want you to pay to sit on a mat. Yes, we swam in the ocean, although it was surprisingly cold.

Back in Dakar, I ate with Alex's host family, although due to a recent death in the family, her Momma Coura wasn't there. Instead, the maid Astou had made us thiéboudienne, which is kind of the national Senegalese dish. The word comes from Wolof, the local dialect, for "rice and fish", which is pretty accurate. Ours was rice with chunks of fish, chicken, and assorted vegetables. After, we had atthaya tea, which takes an unreasonably long time to make but is sweet, refreshing, and minty.

On Saturday, Alex and other American students from her dance class were to give a spectacle showing off all the African dances they'd learned through the semester. In the morning was the practice session, then in the evening was the actual performance. I won't embarass her with the video of the dance, but here are the djembe players who accompanied the dancing:

Saturday night we ate with Alex's host family again. This time I'm not sure what the meal was called, but it was millet with beef in some kind of sauce. As is proper, we sat on mats and ate with our right hand only. You're supposed to grab the meat in the sauce and sort of grab the millet all around it, so it all sticks together in a ball. I wasn't too successful and ended up dropping most of my food on the floor until Astou told Alex to get me a spoon.

Afterwards we went to Koulgraoul, a monthly dance party on the beach for students. It was absolutely packed even until the wee hours of the morning. To get there, we took a taxi. The driver stopped at least seven or eight times to ask directions from other taxi drivers, people on the street, etc. Apparently this is normal in Dakar. Traffic and taxis in Dakar is another post in itself.

Sunday was my last full day in Dakar and, after eating chocolate spread on a baguette with instant coffee and instant milk, we went to Oakum. Oakum is a little village outside of Dakar where two other University of Michigan students live. It really is a different planet than the United States or Europe. One of the girls lives in a house with 20 people. Chickens and foot-long lizards wander around. As they pointed out in the comments on my last post, toilets and sinks are just a dream. At the Oakum market, flies buzzed around raw meat and the whole place smelled absolutely disgusting. But rather than being a terrible experience, it was eye-opening and I'm glad I saw it.

In the evening we walked toward the coast. There wasn't the spectacular sunset over the Atlantic you'd expect; as the sun dips toward the horizon, it just kind of disappears into haze. We did, however, play on what Alex and her friends have named Bouncey-Doo. On cliffs overlooking the ocean are a set of trampolines. For just 500 CFA—$1—you get 15 minutes to bounce, leap, and spring all about. I don't know why, but it was fantastic fun. Also, I've never been on a trampoline so close to the ocean.

And that, sadly, was the end of my sejour in Senegal. I had to go to bed early and sleep so that I could get up early for my flight back Monday morning. I was only there for four full days after my flight was delayed, but it was truly unforgettable. The whole experience was eye opening and I am really, really glad I went.

Five days in Dakar: Part 1

As you could probably infer from the previous posts, I spent the last five days in Dakar, the capital and largest city of Senegal. I went to visit Alex, and I'm really glad I did: although it was the priciest trip I've taken while in France, it was certainly an unforgettable experience.

The excitement started on the way there. I flew with Royal Air Maroc from Marseille to Casablanca, where I'd change planes and head to Dakar. Royal Air Maroc's planes are interesting: written notices are in English and Arabic, while their announcements are in Arabic and French. I waited in Casablanca's Mohammed V airport for my connecting flight, and they didn't start boarding until very late. All the passengers were guided down some stairs to buses that would take us across the runway to the plane. But we waited and waited and waited without the buses going anywhere. After a while, a woman from the airline came and told us to go back into the terminal and wait. It turned out they didn't have a plane for us, so we waited an hour or so while Royal Air Maroc "found" a plane. As we got on to the new one, a French man in front of me asked, "What kind of plane is this?" "It's a 737-500," replied one of the airline workers. "Don't worry, it's a good one."

By the time I got to Dakar it was late so we didn't do anything other than find the university residence where I was staying and go to bed. The next morning, I woke with a start at 7 a.m. thinking I'd slept through my alarm because sunlight was streaming through the window. Senegal doesn't follow any kind of daylight savings time, so the sun rises much earlier than here in France. The room in the university residence was surprisingly roomy and comfortable, although the bathroom was a little primitive. The shower water was warm for almost two minutes. Breakfast was fried eggs and a baguette with cheese and butter. They also gave us boiling water in which to add instant coffee and instant milk.

Outside, it was seriously hot—as in over 80ºF hot. The sun isn't actually as bright as you'd expect in Dakar, because it's mitigated by a mixture of dust and pollution in the air, but the air was still extremely hot. I saw Alex's school, WARC, and got to pose next to a baobob tree like a true tourist. We also briefly saw the coastline as we tried to find the Mali embassy (Alex and a friend are planning to visit Mali once their classes are over), although the embassy was shut.
After lunch we went to the marché HLM, a market unlike any I've seen before. It stretches for the equivalent of four American city blocks and the stands are packed in tighter than the seats on RyanAir flights. It was loud, crowded, and offered all sorts. Alex bought some scarves and we tasted hibiscus juice, sold in little ziplock-style bags and incredibly refreshing in the afternoon heat. Prices at the market were, like most prices in Dakar, up for negotiation; Alex got her scarves for half the price the seller first suggested. As it was by now around 5 p.m., many of the vendors stepped out of their stands to lay down mats, wash their feet, and pray.

Next we went to the Place de l'Indépendance, in some way's Dakar's downtown with banks, shops, and other tall buildings. I don't have any photos because it was busy and we were already being hassled to buy phone cards, "Dior" sunglasses, "Gucci" clothes, and to give money to little children, so I decided against standing around taking pictures. Because it was so hot, we had ice cream from a place called Nice Cream—make up your own joke about that business name.

I'm still tired after all my traveling over the past two weeks, so that's as much as I'm going to write tonight. Check back tomorrow to read about the rest of my trip.

Live from Senegal

Well, here's a quick note from Dakar, Senegal. I arrived early Thursday morning after my flight from Casablanca to Dakar was delayed. Since then, I've done a lot: eaten traditional food and tea, swam in the Atlantic Ocean, visited an African market, and been asked to buy beads/give money/take a taxi more times than I can count.

So far, Dakar has been huge fun. It's a crazy, hot, dirty place, where everyone can instantly tell that I'm a foreigner... and hence asking me to buy everything in sight. At the same time, this is the strangest place I have ever visited: cars drive wherever they want, the sidewalks are just sand, and you really just drop your trash wherever you want.

I'll be back in France late Monday and have class on Tuesday; hopefully I'll be able to fill in more details then.