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:

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...

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.)

Avignon

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.