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."
Sunday, September 30, 2012
Tuesday, September 25, 2012
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.
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,
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.
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| Ma Chambre/My Room |
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| 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,
Friday, September 14, 2012
Spain? Italy? Nope, Caves!
You know on those long trips where the scenery all starts to blend together and you end up just blacking out and waking up to something totally different? Morning excursions on a comfy bus are perfect for this...
Being where Montpellier is located, it is not unthinkable that one of these could take us to Spain or even Italy. Waking up to a body of water on one side and a whole new type of architecture on the other can be a real surprise. Sadly, none of these excursions took us out o the country, but if I showed you pictures without saying otherwise you might be fooled (that is if I remembered to bring my camera, so instead here is a picture of more French architecture.)
Above is the Town of Avignon, which housed the "Palace de Papes," the palace of the pope, back when a sect of Christians left the Vatican and the Catholic church to make their own division, Protestantism; which goes to show even people back then knew when some religion is just to extreme to deal with. After this, we went once more to the sea, to a town on the Coast called Saint Marie de la Mer, a town which, despite the French name, could have fit right in with Spain.
The one final excursion took us through the river valleys to what looked like basically a whole in the wall- which it turned out to be, and much more. A several thousand year old one, to be exact- La Grotte De Clamouse. Now caves aren't particularly photogenic, especially with the whole "flash photography will destroy everything (but all the other unnatural human interaction somehow won't)" rule, but if the tour guide says that a certain rock formation looks like a word you recognize to be a sea creature, you should take a picture of it.
There's also what they call a "light opera" inside one of the bigger rooms, captured here by a certain mustache-adorned person in our group:
Just up the road from this was a small town. And by town I mean more like a village, one with just the perfect amount modernity of to cater to tourists- not that it needs that. I've used the term "too beautiful to be real" before, but it couldn't fit here better. The town looks straight out of Italy, and is mostly made up of one single road that winds up the side of the hill, with a path in the middle just wide enough for several people. There is constantly water flowing down on the sides from springs where people can fill up their water bottles, or just to sit and look at. Also in the town is a monastery and a church, a little square with restaurants, and pretty much little else. But to be honest, it was pretty much good that way.
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| Medieval Timepiece |
Being where Montpellier is located, it is not unthinkable that one of these could take us to Spain or even Italy. Waking up to a body of water on one side and a whole new type of architecture on the other can be a real surprise. Sadly, none of these excursions took us out o the country, but if I showed you pictures without saying otherwise you might be fooled (that is if I remembered to bring my camera, so instead here is a picture of more French architecture.)
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| Avignon |
The one final excursion took us through the river valleys to what looked like basically a whole in the wall- which it turned out to be, and much more. A several thousand year old one, to be exact- La Grotte De Clamouse. Now caves aren't particularly photogenic, especially with the whole "flash photography will destroy everything (but all the other unnatural human interaction somehow won't)" rule, but if the tour guide says that a certain rock formation looks like a word you recognize to be a sea creature, you should take a picture of it.
Just up the road from this was a small town. And by town I mean more like a village, one with just the perfect amount modernity of to cater to tourists- not that it needs that. I've used the term "too beautiful to be real" before, but it couldn't fit here better. The town looks straight out of Italy, and is mostly made up of one single road that winds up the side of the hill, with a path in the middle just wide enough for several people. There is constantly water flowing down on the sides from springs where people can fill up their water bottles, or just to sit and look at. Also in the town is a monastery and a church, a little square with restaurants, and pretty much little else. But to be honest, it was pretty much good that way.
Sunday, September 2, 2012
Everyday is Weekend
After about a week our rights to our own private campus started to dissapear as students from other programs started theirs, as well as regular students to the school and dorms started appearing. Another exchange student, this one from Germany, came to be one of one of our friends.
In many places that aren't the United States, the legal drinking age is 18 (not that anybody checks id's here in France anyways) so basically anyone going to college can drink. Basically, our Germany boy- let's cal him Fabbie- knew his way around the clubbing scene for a while, whereas some people in our group couldn't even legally drink in their home country. To top it off, Fabbie comes from a country that, every October, holds a party that lasts half the month and focuses on nothing but drinking. There is even a Germany word- Bierleichen (meaning beer corpse)- which is used to describe people you see lying around after consuming too many steins of their favorite non-water liquid.
It's still mostly summer for most people here who don't really have to wake up at 8 in the morning to go to class, but even if they do it doesn't really stop them from doing it anyways. European clubs, even during the week, just start warming up right about the time American clubs would shut down for the night. Fabbie was all about this. I don't know what classes he had, if there even were any, or what time he would have to wake up, but it didn't seem to matter to him. His response in his funny "English is my second language but I still speak it better than most Americans" way:
The above picture shows the best time of the "Weekend." Estival. Every Friday during summer, Montpellier, various shops, and the various wine makers of the region (Langedoc-Roussin) come together to make one of the biggest open air fesitval/markets. 5 Euros gets you a glass and three tickets to get a glass of wine of your choosing that you can savor while looking at the various stalls, listening to the bands, and smelling the foods that come from all over the world.
In many places that aren't the United States, the legal drinking age is 18 (not that anybody checks id's here in France anyways) so basically anyone going to college can drink. Basically, our Germany boy- let's cal him Fabbie- knew his way around the clubbing scene for a while, whereas some people in our group couldn't even legally drink in their home country. To top it off, Fabbie comes from a country that, every October, holds a party that lasts half the month and focuses on nothing but drinking. There is even a Germany word- Bierleichen (meaning beer corpse)- which is used to describe people you see lying around after consuming too many steins of their favorite non-water liquid.
It's still mostly summer for most people here who don't really have to wake up at 8 in the morning to go to class, but even if they do it doesn't really stop them from doing it anyways. European clubs, even during the week, just start warming up right about the time American clubs would shut down for the night. Fabbie was all about this. I don't know what classes he had, if there even were any, or what time he would have to wake up, but it didn't seem to matter to him. His response in his funny "English is my second language but I still speak it better than most Americans" way:
'Monday is still weekend."Which makes sense I guess, some people may not have hard class at the beginning of the week, until you ask him about the other days of the week:
"Tuesday is weekend." "Wednesday is weekend." "Thursday is weekend." "Friday is weekend."So what do the German people have to teach us about the days of the week? Every. Day. Is. Weekend.
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| La Region |
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| Excursion to wine city complete with degustation (wine tasting). |
Nîmes et le Pont du Gard
More pictures!
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| Colosseum |
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| The Church |
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| Inside |
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| The Forum |
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| The Pont du Gard |
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| The Gard (River) |
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