Better late than never

I’m officially here now, and have been for a while (sorry about the lag in updating)… France, the land of McDonalds, Subway, and Pizza Hut—oh wait, those just happen to be here…
France, the land of boulangeries and people carrying their baguettes under their arms after work, the land of 2 hour lunches and 35 hour work weeks, a country where women can be (and are) beautiful at any age.

A side view of the Chateau de Suscinio, one that we visited during an orientation in the Brittany region.

A typical street in Vannes (where we stayed for orientation).

Me being hardcore during my first time on a bike since middle school, on the Ile-aux-Moines.

These first couple weeks have been about getting used to changes, both big and small. There’s a lot of tiny things that start to add up: for example, there’s the “salle de bain,” and then “les toilettes”—the toilet is not in the same room as the shower. Fortunately, I had experienced this during a previous trip to France. Other things, like keeping the bathroom door shut, and door handles in the middle of doors, take a little getting used to.

One of the bigger surprises for me so far has been water. My mom probably drinks way more than the recommended 8 glasses per day, and I’ve been encouraged to drink more water since before I can remember. I come from the land of Nalgene bottles, where everyone always has their own personal water supply with them and a bathroom is always close by.
When I landed in Paris, I looked for a bathroom right away. In each of the 3 American airports I had been in a few days previously, bathrooms were located within sight of one another. In Paris, this was not the case. I ended up getting my bags, going through customs, and walking for quite a while until I found a tiny 2-stall bathroom where I had to leave my bags outside. During the next few days, I discovered why: they don’t need bathrooms because they never drink any water! I don’t know that I’ve seen a single French person with a water bottle. I don’t know if they ever drink directly out of water bottles, because if you order a bottle of water in a café it comes with a plastic cup.
Also: I was so busy during my sophomore year that I got used to eating extremely fast, and I spent all summer telling myself that I needed to slow down or I was going to look like a crazy person at the dinner table in France. In reality, I’ve found that I have a hard time keeping up, and I’ve heard similar stories from quite a few of the other American students.
Speaking of food: I’ve been eating very well here, but it’s definitely different than at home. Breakfast is not an important meal in France, and I get my choice of bread and jams and/or cereal, and coffee (the coffee mug is considerably larger than the bowl and in the middle of the place setting, which confused me terribly the first morning). The milk is different: I think it must either be whole milk or somehow more than whole milk… the bottle I’ve been using doesn’t expire until mid-November, and it only needs to be stored in “a cool place”. Lunch changes a lot—I think I’ll eventually end up buying some food and storing it somewhere, but during our busy orientation schedules I’ve been picking up sandwiches and the like at various places around town. There are also several student cafeterias around town where I can get a good amount of food at a decent price, which I’ll probably start going to much more often starting next week. Dinner has multiple courses: the entrée (not the main dish), the main dish with a salad during or after, the cheese course, and then dessert. I have wine every night if I want it, and often the choice of an aperitif (pre-dinner drink).

I live in Nantes (as in “Edict of,” for any history buffs: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Edict_of_nantes), in the Loire-Atlantique department of northwestern France. Nantes, with a population of about 790,000 is currently the 6th largest city in France. Nantes is a sister city with Seattle and Jacksonville. The author Jules Verne was born here. Nantes was occupied by the Germans during WWII, and I learned that members of one of my professor’s families died under American bombs here in Nantes. Just yesterday I visited a 15th century cathedral whose stained glass windows were also destroyed by American bombs… strange to think about.

During the past two weeks I’ve not only been adjusting to speaking French, living with a French family and eating French food, but also to living in a city. I live about a 30 minute journey from where I need to be during the day, so I have to take the bus everyday. I got lost the first time I tried to find my way back to the right bus stop on my own. Here, I’ve learned that I really have no sense of direction. I’m also picking up on the urban art of starting to cross the street before the little walking guy lights up (but the traffic lights here are almost hidden!).

My host family has been wonderful so far. I live with a couple with 7 grown children collectively, the youngest of whom is 21 and is home on the weekends. They’re very nice and above all they have great senses of humor and seem to enjoy life: I like being around them, even though I’m just listening most of the time.

My classes start Monday: for the moment I’m signed up for 3 at the program center (with American students, but still all in French) and 3 at the Université de Nantes. The Université de Nantes is the second largest university in France, with approximately 32000 students (more than 16 times the size of my college in the States). We’ll see how that goes.

I’ll cut myself off here at the moment—let me know if you have any questions (really, I’ll be happy to ramble on even further about anything with you)!

p.s. I loved Boston (just not the airport).

My friend Malia and I enjoying some fabulous Cannoli, sitting on the other side of the Atlantic.