Language Contradictions

Languages are a fun thing.  While they all have many things in common grammatically, each language has it's own specific way of making words, phrases, and grammar that makes it its own thing.  However, when two languages try to come together, it makes often for an awkward combination, such as this:

Literally: Japanese Noodles (ready in 3 minutes)

Yes, ignoring the fact that I'm eating cup-of-noodles in France, I find the name of this product interesting.

First off, the French.  Noodles (Nouilles) is plural.  Japanese is the adjective modifying the noodles- meaning that they are noodles in the style more or less Japanese.  For agreement, a plural 's' is added to it (as well as an 'e' because Nouilles are feminine).

In Japanese, however, there is no plural form of nouns, or really anything- words don't change depending on their number.  It's like 'sheep' in English- it can either be one or many.  Disregarding the fact that in Japanese, the language is "Nihongo" it is still weird seeing anything Japanese with an 's' at the end.

Sloth

In my searches for random words that I want to know how to say in French, I stumbled upon a particularly funny and somewhat tragic name for an animal: the sloth.

The word used in French for a sloth is "un parasseux."  Parrasuex, as an adjective, means "lazy." Therefore, the literal translation of sloth is "A Lazy."  It's not innately tired, slow, or sleepy.  It's just lazy.  Lazy as in, "I'm just gonna eat Cheetos off my stomach while I sit and watch TV instead of trying to enlighten myself" lazy.

"I don't feel like doing anything today."

I'm sure that, given the ability, one of these animals would go and do something amazing.  But according to the French, it just doesn't care.  Really classy.

Ramen of France

With most of the money that we college students having access too going to our educations, it leaves little room for stuff like 'high class,' especially with things like food.  As much as I would like to explore the probably mind blowing word of French cuisine, I have to go with what's just below it.  OK, a few steps below it.  Basically, if I were in United States, it would be something like ramen.  But since the only form of dry, ready-in-under-a-passing period noodles is still over 1 euro, I have to go with other things that this country has to offer me:

1.  Bread.  It's the staple in France.  I can buy a baguette from the bakery literary a hop, skip, and a slight slip down the wet sidewalk down the road from my host family's home for 60 euro centimes.  I even bought one the other day that was right out of the oven, steaming hot.  If I want something slightly sweeter, I can go to the store and buy a bag of rolls for under a euro.  Sure, I'm carbo-loaded for the rest of my life, but there's also other options including meat:

2.  Kebabs.  Me and my roommate concluded that Kebab shops are pretty much like the Taco Bell of France, as they're basically another country's food bastardized and turned into something that the natives would like.  That being said, they're pretty much better than anything that you could get on an average day at Taco bell, and with fries they usually aren't more than 5 euros.

3.  Fruits.  I heard recently that most of the little oranges- clementines- that are found in United States are grown in Spain.  Here in France, we're quite a bit closer, and there's fruits and vegetables here that I haven't even seen before.  And at the market every weekend, I can buy several pounds kilograms of them, fresh or dried, every week for under 5 euros.  So don't worry mom, I'm eating good.

Paris en Panoramique

So to finish up my suite of posts about my travels, here's a presentation of my abuse (and sometimes failed use) of the panoramic feature.

Paris, Part Three/Brussels

I'm gonna try to finish this up the trip this post because the details are starting to fade- I'm basically just trying to remember what I did at what time based off the pictures now.  So without further ado...

The dawn of the third morning, I set off to the north bank of Paris, first to find the Train Station I would be leaving from the next day.  Confirming that I would be able to keep myself from being stranded in Paris (even though it wouldn't be terrible to be stuck in such a city) I started off finally to see the most elevated part of the city: Montmartre.

Most of Paris is pretty flat.  There is only one real hill in Paris, which is absolutely massive, Montmartre, which even has the French word for 'mountain' in the name.  Atop it sits the Sacre Coeur (Sacred Heart) Church, which has an absolutely amazing view.

 The church was pretty cool too.

Around there was a pretty big touristy section, where I bought some postcards, and, even though it was 7 euros, was the best hot dog I've ever had.

 Also, I saw a mime.

I continued (not intentionally) my tour of Churches, and took the metro over to the Ile de la Cité to go see the Notre Dame.

As the day was winding down, my new gay friend from the hostel called me up and offered to go shopping with me in the Galleries Lafayette, pretty much the most expensive designer mall in the world.  I ended up seeing one of my teachers from Montpellier there, and then me and Sylvan bought expensive-yet-tasty macaroons.

Sadly, this was the only picture I got of him.  But I have his Facebook and his phone number, so maybe I can hang out with him again before I leave France.

So I spent my last night in the hostel, then left early the next morning for Brussels.  Being way too tired from walking around for three days, I spent pretty much the whole day in the hostel there, talking with my cool ex-Soviet and German roommates.

Next morning, went exploring once again.  Brussels was a little harder to find my way around with much fewer landmarks, but I was able to find my way to a touristy area.  Saw some cool sights, ate fries.

Saw lots of shops.  Lots of Chocolate, pastries, and even some beer.

Then I wandered around a bit, got lost, found the concert place, and got my ear drums rocked and face melted by Coheed and Cambria.

Next morning, seven hour train right back to Montpellier.

Next post, just pictures.  Panoramics.  Wooo!

Paris, Part Two

Continuing from where I left off:

The Champs Elysées and the areas that are on either side of it form a really long line of tourist sights, from the Louvre at one end, all the way to the L'Arc de Triomph.  The map of Paris that I got from the hostel was pretty detailed as far as sightseeing goes, but the size of the city, and the walking distance between all of these seems a lot shorter than it actually is.

Above is a picture from the Place de la Condord, with the Arc in the background.  While it looks fairly close, the Champs Elysées is actually about several miles (or kilometers, if you prefer) long.  Yes, I walked all of it.

From the Arc, I started my walk to the Stereotypical image of Paris, the Eiffel Tower.  Once again, it was a long walk- across the River Seine even, but being a tower and all, it's really not terribly hard to find.

It is possible to go up in the tower, but every tourist and their entire family wants to do the same, and waiting in line for literally half my vacation didn't seem like fun.

After seeing all that, there wasn't anything terribly specific that I wanted to see, so I just started walking.  I saw a big gold-domed building off in the distance, so I started to walk to it, and, with little effort, I turned up at the Hotel des Invalides, a really nice piece of Architecture by Napoleon.

Pictures were taken.  More walking ensued.  Somehow, I crossed the river once again, and found myself at a really fancy looking building with a statue of Winston Churchill, the English WWII General.

Continuing on, I retraced my steps a little bit to go back to the Louvre- seeing the line to go in, I backed away, took my pictures and left- art doesn't really suit me anyways.

My last bit of walking for the day took me back to the Hostel, where I hug out with my new French friend Sylvan, and prepared for the next, the final, day...

Paris, Part One

Paris- I really forget what people call it; the city of love, the city of lights, whatever.  For me, it was the city of walking.  

I arrived in Paris after a four hour train ride, which was really relaxing.  Trains are so much better than airplanes, especially here in Europe (it's one of those things like I mentioned in my last post; people have their sh*t together here.)  Stepping off the train, I immediately bought a tourist map, because I am absolutely horrible with directions, and while a taxi is extremely easy, it is also extremely expensive, something which I learned not even my first day in France.

It was a pretty straight shot to my hostel from the Gare (Train Station), right past the monument to the Bastille; basically one of the biggest traffic circles I've ever seen.  Checking in, the lady at the front desk complimented me on my French, which was nice, even though she didn't know I was a student in France...

Being tired after lugging around a big suitcase to the hostel, I elected to stay nearby for the evening, so I ended going to the nearest thing: The Cemetery Père Lachaise.  Let me mention that this was also the 31st- Halloween.  I'd say it was pretty cool being able to wander around a cemetery during Halloween at sunset.

A not-so-secret of The Père Lachaise?  It's the final resting place of Jim Morrison, lead singer of the Doors (which happens to be my father's favorite band.)  Of course I had to see his tomb, where I found other Americans having the same thing in mind.

Half the graffiti is loving fans, the other half is angry French people mad that there's an American buried in their cemetery.

I returned to the hostel for the night, where I ran into my roommates for the next three days, a Canadian, a Brazilian woman who spoke little English, and Sylvan.

I actually didn't formally meet him until the next morning, where I saw him on the way back from buying bread for breakfast.  He was sitting outside a café next to the hostel, so I sat down with him.  He was French, from Bordeaux, which, like Montpellier, is in the South of France.  He was gay, which he loved to joke about in his limited (but still very correct) English.  He knew Paris pretty well, and after buying me a coffee, he told me some neat places to visit, including outside of the regular touristy places.

After thanking him, I went on my way to go explore the town.  I actually found Paris extremely easy to navigate, despite my horrible sense of direction.  I literally got of on one of the major Metro stops, and just started to walk.  There are just so many monuments around that you can follow one to another; The Opera, The Place de Vendom, the Jardin de Tuilleries, the Champs Elysées, L'Arc de Triomph...

By the People, For the People

Before I start my whole recount of my mini euro trip, I'm gonna talk a little bit about my home country, the United States, and what has been going on there.

The elections just finished, Obama got reelected, some people are rejoicing, some people are complaining.  To be honest, I don't care.  I didn't vote.  I could have, but I didn't.  I really doubt that anything that will change the course of history can happen in four or even eight years.  Personally, the only thing I see right now is Europe.

If anyone were to ask me what it is I like so far about France, about Europe, or about anything revolving around being outside of the United States, it would be this: I like how people do things here- mostly contrasting against what I've seen and experienced in the U.S.

I always used to think, 'America is a pretty good country, and everyone else who lives here must think the same because they are lucky enough to live here as well."  However, coming here has shown me something; not everything that exists there is perfect, and there are other countries that people would be just as lucky to live in.  I think, finally, I was able to put the reasoning for this into one short, sweet, phrase:

People here in France/Europe have a better idea of how to make things work for everyone, and not just better for people who are more likely to affect percentages and pocketbooks.

I'm not saying the European system is perfect, but then again nothing quite is.  Not everybody agrees on it, but few will argue that is it hurting either.   I, personally, think that is what matters.

Just my .02 €

Retourné

So I'm back in Montpellier now, with tons of stories, pictures, and memories.  Those will come all in good time, meaning when I'm not preparing for school.

It kind of feels funny being back here. my 'home' here in Europe.  I went to two cities here in Europe, neither of which I have never been to before, and I explored them from almost end to end, and now that I know them slightly better, I am back in the town I know the best here.  It's kind of Ironic- I have never been to Chicago, New York, Washington D.C., and I can count the amount of times I have been to Los Angeles on one hand- but now I'm in a city, a country, and a continent that are none of that of my birth.  But I feel like I know them better than any of those places in the United States.

Philosophizing aside, expect lots of pictures soon!

Break

Right now, the United States is all about hurricanes and Halloween.  Meanwhile, here in France, the students are on break.  All of them.  And since I'm part of the system, I'm taking advantage of it too.  So what am I going to do with my week?  Let's just say, 'bon voyage.'

To make it short, I am going by train to Paris tomorrow morning, spending three days there and seeing pretty much everything I can.  The Eiffel Tower, The Champs Elysée, L'Arc de Triumph, and possibly things like the Catacombs, the various cemeteries, the Notre Dame, and pretty much anywhere else I can go to on foot.

After Paris, I am going once again by train to Brussels, Belgium, where I will commence my search for the best French Fries, the best Waffles, and the best chocolate.  Then, Sunday night, Coheed and Cambria, one of the bands on my bucket list, is playing, which of course, I am going to go see.  Strike one off the list.

Finnaly, the day before classes restart, I will voyage back to my now familiar part of a once unknown country/continent.

Another Day, Another ___?

So here in France, I was able to make a friend who I didn't meet through anyone else; meaning that yes, I am capable of autonomous social interactions.  Sadly, he is another Anglophone like me, but instead of American, he is from Ireland, so even though we both only really speak English to each other, it's still slightly different, so I am getting some variety.

While this friend of mine, Scott, uses some sayings that are really only used in the UK, I heard him say something that I hear in the states- and that took me for a loop.  "Another day, another dollar."  It may not sound weird to the average person, but remember: they use Euros over here.  Dollars won't get you anything over here.

Does that means that people who say this think what work they did was for nothing?  What if, when I went back to United States, I started saying "Another day, another Euro?"  It definitely wouldn't work in Japan either, with one Yen being worth about one cent.  Maybe if I was really obsessively choosey about how I get payed, I could say "another day, another pound," because, after all, Britain seems to really like their own personal currency in lieu of something nice and standardized that exists for almost the entire rest of Europe.

Maybe the Europeans secretly know that one day the Euro will crash and the only the American dollar will be around to save the world economy, as weak as it might be.

Graffitti

No matter what country one lives in, I think there is a universal urge lying inside all of us- the urge to take a plain, boring surface and spice it up.

Graffiti- or in French, graffiti (it's the same, just say it with a French accent) is pretty much everywhere.  In big amphitheater classrooms, the desks are basically one big continuous piece of wood that stretches from one side of the classroom to another.  They contain all matters of etchings and drawings in pen, pencil highlighter, marker, whatever- with noticeably less markings near the front where the lecturer can see you defacing school property.  I've seen drawings from ranging from abstract-gothic art to pencilings of Joseph Stalin, all the way to possible gang signs, tic-tac-toe, as well as phrases and sayings in no less than three languages.  Some of my favorite ones include:

"Dubstep saved my life last night."

"Ceci n'est pas un cours" (This is not a class, a modification of a popular French saying.)

Around town, it is hard to find a blank wall (gaffiti or not).

Courtesy Kevin L

Surprisingly enough, people are considerate enough to not paint on most of the two-thousand-year-old buildings which would be probably be near impossible to restore back to their pre-painted-on state.  Modern structures, on the other hand, are perfectly fine.

Part mural part graffiti.

The Canals

Salut and The Republic

*The title of this post is based off of something our adviser (Judith) said during a meeting during the prestage- I believe she said that it would make a good title for an article or something, so I took it literally and decided to make a post on it.  I apologize if anyone has already made a post on this- and if I've now taken your idea, well; you had plenty of time to do it.*

France is referred to as a republic- meaning that it should have a social structure meant for everyone to be more or less equal, specifically in the government.  I believe it has been like this since the French Revolution, where the citizens lobbed off the heads of Marie Antoinette and Louis the 16th- the "Absolute Monarchs" and made their own government.

What contradicts this idea of equality, however strangely enough, is the language itself.  Unlike in English, there are two ways to say 'you': tu, and vous.  Vous works for plural 'you,' as in the ever popular southernism 'y'all'.  However, it is used also in the singular as a more proper, polite way of saying 'tu.'  And people take the use seriously here.  

The general rule of thumb that I would define it that if you can call someone by their first name only, one can use tu. All other cases, vous and all other polite forms (possessive pronouns, conjugations, commands, etc.: pretty much to be expected for the sake of consistency) should be used.  One thing that people tend to forget, though, it Salut.

Salut translates pretty closely to 'hi,' in English, with Bonjour being the more formal "hello," but it is never used the same way.  Salut is another one that you would only use with tu, so while in the United State, we go around saying 'hi' to everybody, if one tries to do the same thing here in France, it would end up with dirty looks, among other things possibly.

So, morale of the story; unless you know absolutely sure, use vous.

Lexical Shift

A long, long time ago, a group of warriors called the Normans arrived on an island off the coast of ancient Europe.  The Normans, speaking an ancient version of what we now call 'French' took over the land of the people that lived on this island, a place now called 'England.'  This is why modern day English, a Germanic language, has so many cognates with French, a Romantic (Latin origin) language.

Cognates help people like me, a non-native speaker, to put together phrases and describe things I wouldn't normally be able to describe because, with luck, if you say an English word with the right intonation and accent, it might end up sounding like a word that is actually used by the native speakers.

Unfortunately, there are always faux-amis: false friends.  Like those people who hag out with you, and as soon as you're not willing to take one for the team (read: them) they're out of there.  Faux amis are words that seem like they are the same word in both English and French, but are actually not, which leads to an exchange student's worst nightmare, MISUNDERSTANDING.

While French breakfast usually consists of bread with butter and jelly (preserves, if you may.), don't ask for "preservatifs," unless you like condoms on toasty baguettes.  

The worst part is when a bunch of faux-amis get together in a while bad friend party (like every party in high school I was never invited to) and decided to all shift over one meaning:

"Attendre" in French does not mean to 'attend,' it actually means to wait.

To attend is "Assister"- luckily, 'to assist' doesn't somehow turn back into a French verb that sounds like 'wait.'

The only thing that makes me wonder is how 'raisin' - the French word for 'grape' somehow got turned into the dried version of said fruit.  At least it didn't turn into a word for wine...

What France Thinks Americans Eat

I've decided to set myself a goal of writing at least two posts a week here, and I'm writing it here so that maybe knowing that people are expecting something will make me live up to it or something.  So, expect more stuff here, probably one post about the culture/country and something about the language. Or whatever happens to cross my mind..

At various places around Montpellier (and probably the rest of France), there are little hole-in-the-wall (literally) places called "snacks" which serve stuff that is cheap and easy to eat on the go.  Usually, this entails food items stuffed into the all important staple of French cuisine, the baguette.  One particular sandwich item is the "American."

Basically, what this is is a ground meat patty and fries in a baguette- pretty much what French people would consider an average american diet (it also usually comes in a meal-deal type thing with a can of coke.)  It's basically the same makeup of most things one could could order at McDonald's, minus about half the mass, as well as a toy.  It's pretty weird to attribute these ingredients to only the United States though- A fried ground beef patty is a common thing to serve in Japan (hamubagu), and fries- or chips if you prefer- are pretty much all over Europe too.  Case in point: the Belge Sandwich,

At a spot I was able to find right next to the school, a sandwich under this name is served.  It's like the American, but apparently the diet in Belgium doesn't include meat, so that gets thrown out; leaving only a mass of fries, some greenery, and plenty of Mayo slathered around.  I'm not sure what it is about it, but it's like saying "come to Belgium, Sean.  We have fries,"  Yeah, probably gonna end up going there.

But this makes me wonder one more thing... what would the French put in a "French Sandwich?"

Oh yeah... they call it a "Baguette."

Chez Nous

It eventually came to a point where we had to say goodbye to the cinder block beds and the alternating overcooked-undercooked meals of the cafeteria, and move into what would be our homes, chez nous, for the rest of our stay.

Anybody I had talked to before going abroad said that staying in a homestay is better than anything.  Living in a French home, talking to French people, eating French food (some of which is interesting, to be explained later,) and conversing in French- it's complete immersion.  But, as my mom says every single time she Skypes me, 'as long as you're having fun everything is fine.'  And that's what has been had.

When we first arrived, me and my new roommate found ourselves in our own little bachelor pad behind the main house, complete with everything a young hip pair of dudes would need; microwave, shower, a lumpy-but-still-somehow-comfortable futon couch, and an extra mattress.  Then, there's the family.

Ma Chambre/My Room

La Rue/Our Street

Madame et Monsier Blache, who had pretty much been on vacation all summer until the day they came to pick us up.  Dinner is always the big meeting time of the day.  Every night, at just the right time (7-8, dinner o'clock for the French) , Madame Blache opens the back window in the kitchen and hollers "Les Garçons!" (tr: Boys!) signaling for us to eat.  This involves the five of us, the Blaches, me, Max, and Christine sitting under the trees in their perfectly sized front yard eating a meal of several small courses; salad or some other raw vegetable dish, the main dish, cheese, fruit, or yogurt.

Of course being immersed in another culture means seeing all the parts of it, including the special foods that are "specialties"of wherever our pallets are taking us.  Some of the less appetizing things we've seen include; head cheese, blood sausage, squid tart,

More Excursions

Avignon:

La Grotte de Clamouse:

St. Guillem le Desert/Le Pont du Diable: