One-Month Maggie

I don’t like this one bit. Not being on top of my blogging is making my jam-packed head hurt to think about, dare I say it? LAST WEEKEND! I’m sure there are some of you who think, “How could one week as an exchange student possibly have more than ‘go to school, eat, and sleep’?” Essentially, you’re right; that’s the big picture. However, those of you who look like this:

yeahh.... I'm re-reading Harry Potter in French

Those of you who know that one week can capture snapshots of life-changing experiences, no matter how seemingly insignificant, give me knucks. Here are some of mine that I was able to get on camera:

I. Love. Snails.

Flipping my first crêpe - SUCCESS!!

These adorable chip things that are still happy even when you eat them. Thanks for making me feel a little better. Animal crackers, work on it. 

HA! So while Kiana, Connor, Calina, Eduardo, and Sid are all posting pictures of Asian food, this is my contribution. Feeling the culture and getting really jealous.

THE FREAKISH STORM! Hail, thunder, lightning right by my house - I was out on the veranda where it was at its worst. Bring. It. 

It was cold and windy at school during our ten minute break. We huddled up, I whipped out my camera, you know the rest.

My lovely friend Léa who is moving to another school. Of course I will be able to visit her, but she's definitely one of my best friends here.

Johanna, Nathalie, and I 

Pouille + my boots = uncomfortable yet determined kitty in my closet

I have to say that at school it's not like in other countries where if you want to take a picture you're already beat to it and there are multiples already on Facebook. I wish I could show you more of my class and friends because they are so nice!!! Eventually. 

                  Yesterday was my one month mark and even though I know it’s supposed be a freak-out moment, I’ve settled into my life here so much so that measuring my time here in months has little to no meaning for me other than to remind me that my days here are limited. I’m pretty sure that France and I were meant to be from the get-go because the only thing I don’t like here is the taste of marzipan. I even love how at school they habitually take little salt and pepper shakers from a rack to season their restaurant-style meals and replace them when they are done eating. They’re so sophisticated I’m surprised they don’t jam to Beethoven.

                  That being said, I think that it’s finally hit me that I will be a part of my new friends’ lives this year. Maybe my personal bubble has popped at last from all the bisous because suddenly I’ve found that I can no longer hide myself under a façade of lab coat and pen and paper in hand, only here to observe the culture. My name is no longer “Maggie, the exchange student from America” but just “Maggie.” To me that means that all the effort I’ve made to talk my head off, look stupid asking questions over and over, say “bring it on” to all the double-language-induced headaches, introduce myself to random people, and take everything in a positive light has recreated me as a person again. You know in Star Trek (I swear this isn’t going to be nerdy, I hardly know the premise…) when they can be transported from one place to another but their bodies separate into molecules and rejoin at the destination? It’s like little pieces of me are still being shipped over here after every conversation, every joke laughed at between my friends and I, and every new thing I try. It’s just weird to think that I’m the same person in essence whether I’m in Northfield or Puget; however how my friends here and back there arrived at their conclusion of who I am as a person has come to be in completely different ways (and languages).

                  Since that just took a lot of energy and a good twenty minutes to write (one thing you really don’t think about until you’re the one writing things for all your friends and family back home to read…) I’m going to make a crazy shift and update on what I did last weekend.

                  Here’s where you get to pick the super-duper fast version or the version where I talk about men who shop and sport purses because it’s part of the culture. Your choice.

                  Fast version: I went to Montpellier. Ditched school on Friday. Picked up my host sister, Lucie, in a town by Marseille. Stayed at my host sister, Mary’s apartment in Montpellier. Went shopping. Absolutely loved it, especially taking pictures. Skyped Diatou. Ate lunch in Aix-en-Provence. Went home exhausted and a little more fashionable.

                  Extended version (don’t tell the fast version people, but I love you more): While shopping at the Odysseum, which is like an outdoor MOA, I noticed that:

a) Any shop we stepped into I wanted to buy everything, but my host sisters and I agree that everything was made for uncommonly thin people.

b) There are people randomly making out everywhere. I was taking pictures of the mall and accidently took a picture of a couple embracing. Oh well, now you can laugh at how awkward it must have been when the lady looked at me like I was deliberately taking a picture of her and her chéri :

Kiko is the store with the nail polish bottle that broke, just so you know.

c) ATTENTION: here’s a quick style update that I find hilarious. Guys, your French counterparts are now wearing floral scarves and sporting murses aka man purses. Also, don’t be afraid to venture into the girls section; there were times when I couldn’t tell if I was just in a women’s clothing store, but I swear even guys can rock the collared sweater. As for hair, the Zac Efron gelled faux hawk is all the rage. Girls, don’t complain when your mothers accompany you on your way to Forever 21 because there’s no such thing as mom jeans. Plus, economically speaking you can steal their clothes J.

d) There is one clock in my high school, therefore everyone wears watches (or sneaks a peek on their cellphones while “searching for a pen”).

e) The ratio of male to female shoppers is pretty much equal.

f) Wearing obnoxiously colored clothes is, well, obnoxious. The French stick to their neutrals during the cooler months.

                  Just a side-note, there was a girl who dropped a bottle of nail polish in a cosmetics store and, now that I think about it, it just so happened to land on a guy’s leather shoes. He was pissed. She just stood there for a minute or two then finally helped one of the employees clean up the baby blue polish. Then another girl who was in a completely other world just clomped through the entire mess while the employee gave her a death glare. I came out alive after watching the comical scene of several people de-smurf their clothes and shoes.

                 

                  Overall it was a great weekend filled with a lot of time to hang out with my host sisters and be extremely girly – shopping, nail polish, and fashion shows made me happy J. There was a random runway in the center of the mall where all three levels looking down on the show were filled. I had to smile at the way France was fitting its fashionable stereotype.

Church in Montpellier

Host sisters, Mary and Lucie

The cute marzipan apple that I bought and thought tasted icky.

This was the fashion show that we saw in the mall. 

These boys were so cute!!!

                  Here’s a quick update about this weekend:

                  Yesterday I found out that one of the girls in my district decided to go home to Taiwan and left with her dad after visiting Monaco. It’s only been a month and I’m sad that she found rotary wasn’t the right thing for her at this time. All of us remaining exchange students (wow. I’m making it sound like this is the Hunger Games…) are getting together for the second time next Sunday to take a boat from Port Fréjus to St. Tropez so it’s too bad she couldn’t say goodbye.

                  I woke up this morning at 6:45am to rain but looked over at my bike shorts and shirt longingly and decided to tough it out on the first day of VTT (vélo tout terrain or biking on every terrain). Apparently I was a little too eager because the director walked from his house to the meeting spot and informed my host mom and I that due to the weather they would be meeting next week. Although, it was a good thing that we came because Simone could introduce me and we could find out if it’s the right level for me. We’ll start out with biking 15km (9.3mi) and work our way up to between 30km and 35km (18.6 – 21.7mi) and we will be going at an easy pace to start. I’m glad I found that I love to bike this summer and that I know I can get up to at least 30mi (48km) because I’ll get off to a good start (plus after not biking for a month it’s going to be difficult to start with unfamiliar equipment and jelly muscles!). The director also mentioned that we will be having a Halloween ride where we’ll dress up in costumes (how cool is that?! Especially since I’ll be missing the Halloween festivities this year) and we will take a night ride and use lights. I’m so pumped.

                  After finding that I am kind of in love with biking my host mom mentioned that she has a friend that she’ll ask to take me along with her to the Roc d’Azur races in Fréjus. It starts the second week of October and is the last of the big races and biking competitions in all of Europe. People come from all over the world just to compete in all sorts of biking events, not just distance rides. Okay. I think I need to stop squealing from excitement…

                  Today has been a fun day to hang out with my host mom and looking back, we did so much stuff! First we biked to the meeting spot for VTT, shopped for groceries, ate lunch in Fréjus, took a walk by the beach, and chilled during a freakish storm. At one point I showed her a blog written by an American who moved to the Provençal area of France (by us) and has now published a book on all her experiences. We scrolled through some of her posts until we came upon a picture of the lady’s beau-frère (literally “handsome brother” but it means her brother-in-law). The conversation about this guy was something as follows (imagine my computer on our kitchen table and us with our heads propped on up by our arms, but still standing):

“Hmmm, not bad! Wow.”

“Yeah, you’re right!”

“Beau goss (meaning “good looking kid” but used to say “he’s attractive”) he’s a good-looking French guy…”

(Me laughing my butt off and close to tears)

It was seriously the best mini conversation ever and I can’t even begin to recreate it. So. Funny!

When we “did the rounds” I swear I met half the town. My host mom and host dad work in the hospital know a lot of people through work. Every time we go out to get something at the store we run into at least five people they know. All the better for me! Today I met two co-workers, a sister-in-law to my neighbor (sister?), previous co-worker and her daughter who live in a boat (so cool!!!!), someone at their equivalent of Menards, my host mom’s friend whom she works out with, the grocer (it was the cutest version of a co-op and I am SO TOTALLY taking pictures next time. Even the eggplants were adorable.), another previous co-worker, and I think that’s it for today. I honestly can’t remember.

                  I just want to briefly talk about the grocery store because I’m planning on staying there overnight just so I can check it all out after hours. Especially the fish. I mean, seriously, they had this whole ticket system where you waited for your number and it was intense. The French are pretty used to waiting, but I occupied myself with checking out all the eyes staring back at me. There were red fish, huge fish, enormous salmon, shrimp, brown crabs, squid (which someone bought and it was over $50 worth… “Dinner’s ready!?” I honestly don’t know what you do with squid other than fry it, but not with $50 worth…), clams, mussels, oysters, scallops, baby octopus, and sardines. I was absolutely fascinated and wanted to touch everything (Kiana… you with your whale bacon, me with my squid, clams, and shrimp, we’d have a search party for finding Nemo all over again)

                  So you know when you can get a taste test of maybe meat or cheese at a grocery store? Here I witnessed a lady ask to sample a raw oyster. I kid you not. The grocer, in her heavy-duty wetsuit uniform (for when they use a giant sprayer to clean the produce and suddenly it becomes Wisconsin Dells), took a knife, hacked away at the shell, poured the salt water all over the shrimp, handed the lady the oyster who then downed it. I just couldn’t help but wonder what would happen if I just took my oyster and ran, maybe got a bite of bread, and a few grapes? (Wheels turning)

                  Like I said to my mom and dad tonight while skyping, don’t worry about me, I have a lot of friends, it’s hard not to smile here, and I’m healthy (everyone else is sick with a cold here which I have not caught yet – knock on wood, no really, please do – it’s a mystery to me as to why it spread so quickly. It wouldn’t have to do with the fact that everyone touches everyone else’s faces every day, now would it?) In short, I am doing well.

Bisous,

Maggie

P.S. My photo link isn't working because I'm not technologically savvy so here's the link: http://cestlavieaccordingtomephotos.shutterfly.com