Apprendre à Parler le Français!

ENGLISH: Here’s a little message to let you know that everything is going alright. I am starting to really fit at my job. I am an intern, but I am gaining more and more responsibility and I am beginning to feel more and more important for the company. I sit in on meetings where I am invited to participate and my ideas are actually valued! It is truly an extraordinary experience!

I remember when I first started learning French eleven years ago. I wanted to learn a foreign language and my grandma bought me a software program called “Learn to Speak French”. As soon as I started learning, I had a burning desire to speak, write, read and understand this magical language. I could only dream of the day that I would speak this language on a daily basis. Today, the fact that I am able to work for a French company is just as magic as the day I first touched the CD-Rom of the “Learn to Speak French” program.

My grandma is no longer alive, but her modest gift has provided the foundation of a fantastic future. If she were still here today, she would read this post and say the same thing that she always said since the day I moved to France, “I just hate myself for buying that d@mn program! Otherwise you would still be in the US!”

FRANÇAIS: Un petit message pour dire que tout va bien. Je commence à vraiment intégrer l’entreprise dans laquelle je travaille. Je travaille en tant que stagiaire, mais je gagne de plus en plus de liberté et je me sens de plus en plus important pour l’entreprise. J’assiste à des réunions auxquelles je participe et mes idées sont valorisées ! C’est vraiment une occasion extraordinaire !

Je me rappelle de quand j’ai commencé à apprendre le français il y a onze ans. J’avais envie d’apprendre une langue étrangère et m’a grand-mère m’a acheté un logiciel qui s’appelle « Learn to Speak French ». Dès le début de mon apprentissage, j’avais un envie ardent de parler, écrire, lire et comprendre cette langue qui est devenue pour moi une langue magique. Je ne pouvais que rêver du jour que je parlerais cette langue dans la vie quotidienne. Aujourd’hui, le fait que je sois opérationnel dans une entreprise française est aussi magique que quand j’ai touché pour la première fois le CD-Rom de mon logiciel extraordinaire.

Ma grand-mère n’est plus en vie, mais son cadeau modeste a fourni la fondation d’un avenir fantastique. Si elle était toujours en vie aujourd’hui, elle lirait ce poste et dirait la même chose qu’elle disait depuis mon déménagement, « Je m’en veux d’avoir acheté ce p^t@|n de logiciel ! Sinon tu serais toujours aux Etats-Unis ! »

Elevator Pitch!

ENGLISH: You know some times there are things that come out of our mouths and before we realize what we are about to say, it’s too late… Imagine the most ideal place for such a wonderful moment to pass: the company elevator!

This morning I came to work with some pastries to celebrate the return of my boss after her two weeks of vacation. While going up to the 5^th floor, the elevator stopped on the 4^th floor to let one of girls from human resources get on. When I told her that I had brought pastries for everyone, she said to me “how is this so?” which, in French, sounded to me as if she had said, “How do we spank ourselves?”, to which I respond intelligently, “How do we spank ourselves? Like this!”  As soon as I strategically place my hand towards my behind region, I see the look on her face… I thought that she was going to cry… For 5 seconds I was convinced that I would be arrested for sexual harassment! How would I have explained to my family that I was fired because I wanted to spank myself in front of a co-worker in the elevator?!?! Luckily for me and for my future career, I was able to get my way out of such a mess! Woo! Given the fact that we were in such an enclosed space, I couldn’t pretend like I hadn’t said anything, so I just hurried up and changed the subject by saying, “I can’t believe you just said that! Anyway, how are you doing?” Fortunately she followed me in this sudden transition! Afterwards, I wasn’t convinced that she had fully understood what had just happened, and I didn’t care! She followed me to my office while telling me about her life while I tried to regain my natural skin color. So as far as I am concerned, the story is over; however, as we all know, women do not forget anything! It is 11:23pm and I’ll bet that she is comfortably sitting at home telling her boyfriend about our little incident. I am afraid that when I get to work in the morning, I will have to face a masked man with an axe in his hands!!! I’m dead! I love you all! Sweet dreams! Good night!

FRANÇAIS: Vous savez que parfois il y a des choses qui sortent de nos bouches et au moment où nous nous rendons compte de la bêtise que nous venons de raconter, c’est trop tard… Imaginez l’endroit  idéal pour une telle connerie : l’ascenseur de l’entreprise !

Ce matin j’arrive au travail avec des viennoiseries pour fêter le retour des vacances de ma responsable. En montant au 5^ème étage, l’ascenseur s’arrête au 4^ème pour laisser monter une de mes collèges des ressources humaines. Quand je lui dis que j’ai ramené des viennoiseries pour tout le monde, elle me répond, « Comment se fait ce ? » chose à laquelle je réponds intelligemment, « Comment on se fesse ? Ben comme ça ! » Et au moment où je place stratégiquement ma main vers la région de mon derrière, je vois son visage… Je pensais qu’elle allait pleurer… Pendant 5 seconds j’étais convaincu que je serais bientôt emprisonné pour harcèlement sexuelle ! Comment allais-je dire à ma famille que j’étais viré parce que je voulais me fesser devant une collègue dans l’ascenseur ?!?! Heureusement pour moi et ma future carrière, j’ai réussi à m’en sortir ! Ouf ! Etant donné l’espace réduite dans laquelle nous nous sommes trouvés, je ne pouvais pas faire semblant de n’avoir rien dit ; donc, j’ai vite changé le sujet en disant « Tu dis n’importe quoi ! Sinon, comment vas-tu ? » Elle m’a heureusement suivi dans ce soudain changement ! Après, je n’étais pas convaincu qu’elle avait bien compris ce qui venait de se passer, et je m’en fichais ! Elle m’a suivi jusqu’à mon bureau en parlant de sa vie lorsque j’essayais  de retrouver la couleur normale de ma peau. Du coup, pour moi, c’est la fin de l’histoire ; néanmoins, comme nous le savons tous, les filles n’oublient jamais rien ! Il est 23h23 et j’imagine qu’elle est tranquillement chez-elle en train de raconter cette affreuse histoire à son conjoint. J’ai peur que quand j’arrive au travail demain matin, je vais devoir me défendre contre un homme masqué avec une hache à la main !!! Je suis cuit ! Je vous aime tous ! Faites des beaux rêves ! Bonne nuit !

Mangeons Ensemble!

ENGLISH: The photo in the post was taken by my friend Kayser as we watched the fireworks for the 14th of July! Merci Kayser!

Today I say to myself, “You know what Self, if you write on your blog at least three times per week, maybe people will come back! Your friends in the States will come to see what is going on! They will be delighted to know that you found yourself standing next to the man that decided to fart in the metro on line 6 today during rush hour!”

In order to update you on what is going on here in the “BIG P” (as my little brother would say (today is his birthday! Happy birthday little brother!!!)), I would like to let you know that I am on an internship. There you go! Consider yourself updated. No, but seriously, I am currently on an internship in the department of Marketing and Communication at a company right off of the Champs Elysées. I am the Marketing and Communication Assistant! Yeah! You know what that means… It means that I create Excel spreadsheets and PowerPoints that rock! I know you are jealous! But don’t worry, maybe one day you will also have the chance to be a Microsoft Office Master!!! But to be truly serious, I am lucky because I work with really nice people and I have several projects on which I am currently working. At noon I eat with a very eclectic group of individuals. Sometimes there are 5 of us and sometimes there are 50 of us (I might be exaggerating just a bit). There are individuals that don’t talk; individuals that talk only when they feel like it; individuals who tell their life story (and the life stories of other individuals) and then there is me. Sometimes I don’t talk because I like to take the time to reflect (like today when I stopped for 10 minutes to think about the lives of Cher’s (the singer) kids) and sometimes I talk with those individuals who tell their life story. Every day we go through the same ritual. I go down to the 4^th floor to get a few colleagues who then follow me down to the 2^nd floor to get more colleagues who follow us down to the street where we all stand around and decide where to get food before coming back to the office to eat together in a meeting room. And when I say “we” allow me to remind you that everyone fends for him or herself! Sometimes there are 10 of us trying to think of a place to eat, but we never eat at the same place. That’s the beauty of the Champs Elysées! You have so many choices and you know that no matter where you go, you will be forced to spend half of your month’s salary. So enjoy yourself! In any case, I like my little lunch group. When we had our company party in June, we danced the night away! Personally, I danced so much that I started to sweat out of my butt cheeks… The others thought that I had sat down in a puddle of water! Never again will I wear a grey pair of pants to a company party!!! People took photos and now have black mail on me! If I ever work up the courage, I’ll show you one of the photos… we’ll see…

FRANÇAIS: La photo au début de ce post a été prise par mon ami Kayser lorsque nous regardions les feux d'artifice du 14 juillet! Merci Kayser!

Aujourd'hui je me dis, "Tu sais toi, si tu écris quelque chose sur ton blog au moins trois fois par semaine, les gens vont revenir! Tes amis aux States vont prendre de tes nouvelles! Ils seront ravis de savoir que tu t'es trouvé à côté du monsieur qui a pété dans le métro sur la ligne 6 aux heures de pointes aujourd’hui!"

Pour vous tenir au courant de ce qui se passe au "BIG P" (comme dirait mon petit frère (aujourd'hui est son anniversaire! Joyeux anniversaire petit frère!!!)), je souhaiterais vous informer que je suis en stage. Voilà! Maintenant vous êtes au courant. Non, mais sérieusement, je suis actuellement en stage dans le département de Marketing et Communication d'une entreprise juste à côté des Champs Elysées. Je suis Assistant Marketing et Communication! Ouais! Vous savez ce que ça veut dire... Ca veut dire que je crée des tableaux Excel et des PowerPoints de ouf! Je sais, vous êtes jaloux! Mais ne vous inquiétez pas, peut-être un jour vous aurez aussi l'occasion d'être le Master Pack Office!!! Mais pour être vraiment sérieux, j'ai de la chance parce que je travaille avec des gens vraiment sympas et j'ai pas mal de projets. Le midi je mange avec un groupe très éclectique. Parfois nous sommes 5 et parfois nous sommes 50 (une petite exagération peut-être). Il y a des gens qui ne parlent pas; il y a des gens qui parlent quand ils ont envie; il y a des gens qui racontent leurs lifes (plus celles des autres) et il y a moi. Parfois je ne parle pas parce que je  réfléchis (comme aujourd'hui quand j'ai passé 10 minutes à réfléchir sur la vie des enfants de la chanteuse Cher) et parfois je parle avec ceux (plutôt celles) qui racontent leurs lifes. Tous les jours nous avons notre rituelle. Je descends au 4ème étage pour chercher des collègues qui me suivent au 2ème étage pour chercher d'autres collègues qui nous suivent jusqu'à dans la rue où nous nous arrêtons pour décider ce que nous allons chercher à manger avant de revenir au bureau pour manger ensemble dans une salle de réunion. Et quand je dis "nous", je vous rappelle que c'est chacun pour sa gueule. Parfois on est 10 à chercher un endroit pour manger, mais nous ne mangeons jamais au même endroit. C'est la beauté des Champs! Vous avez tellement de choix et vous savez que n'importe où vous allez, vous allez verser la moitié de votre salaire du mois. Donc, faites-vous plaisir! Sinon, j'aime bien mon petit groupe de midi. Quand on a fait la soirée d'entreprise au mois de juin, nous avons dansé toute la nuit! Personnellement, j'ai tellement dansé que j'ai commencé à transpirer des fesses... Les autres pensaient que je m’étais assis dans une flaque d'eau! Jamais encore est-ce que je ne porterai un pantalon gris pour une soirée d'entreprise!!! Les gens ont pris des photos et il y a maintenant un petit dossier sur moi! Si jamais j'ai le courage, je vous montrai une des photos... à voir...

METRO JE T'AIME!!!

ENGLISH: I am writing to you today in French, but in order to remain coherent throughout the entirety of my blog, I am (like yesterday) going to post this message first in English and then in French. Otherwise my friends of the Anglo-Saxon influence will freak out.

Speaking of subjects that make people freak out, allow me to talk about one in particular; its name is “THE PARISIAN METROPOLITAN”. The Metro is a Parisian means of transportation that allows city dwellers to easily move about town in an average time of 30 minutes. The stations of this underground iron network are placed at an average of 400 meters from one another, a reduced distance compared to those of other metropolitan networks in the world. Opened in 1900 during the World Fair, this network welcomes today over 449 million passengers each year. In brief, the Metropolitan is every Parisian’s best friend… Every morning Parisians get out of bed with the overwhelming desire to explore the world that moves under the street. As soon as the Parisian places his or her foot on the first step of the descending stairway, the doors of a gold mine open before his/her eyes. It is magic! It is overwhelming! It is _ (I’ll leave the last word to my neighbors)!

If you are still following me, you can imagine that I’m talking out of my bottom… Unfortunately for our dear Metro, nobody likes him! He is the only French person that has no vacation but continues to sing. His favorite song, , "Da da da da da da! Nous vous rappelons qu'il est interdit de fumer dans l'ensemble de la station! Reminder, smoking is prohibited anywhere on our premises! Chishta ba quida mala bapa booba dee!" It is almost a love song that certain individuals will never understand… The smell of a cigarette reminds us that respect is to be merited, but rarely given. That being said, I would like to be the first person to publically declare my love for our dear Metro! Mom, if you don’t hear from me by the end of the week, know that the Coalition of People Who Like to Scowl has closed my up in a wagon on line 13 in order to prohibit the air from penetrating naturally in my lungs. May the following of this love declaration see the light of day!

FRANCAIS: Je vous écris en français aujourd'hui, mais afin de rester cohérent sur l'ensemble de mon blog, je vais (comme hier) publier ce message d'abord en anglais et puis en français. Sinon mes amis de l'influence anglo-saxonne vont péter des câbles...

En parlant des sujets qui font péter des câbles, permettez-moi de vous en citer un; il s'appelle "LE MÉTROPOLITAIN PARISIEN". Le Métro est un mode de transport parisien qui permet les riverains de se déplacer facilement dans un temps moyen de 30 minutes. Les stations de ce réseau ferroviaire souterrain sont situées à environs 400 mètres les unes des autres, une distance réduite comparée à celles des autres réseaux métropolitains du monde. Entré en service en 1900 à l'occasion  de l'exposition universelle, ce réseau accueille aujourd'hui plus que 449 million de voyageurs par an. Bref, Le Métropolitain est l'ami le plus cher de tous les parisiens... Chaque matin les parisiens se lèvent avec une envie saisissante d'explorer ce monde qui bouge sous la chaussée. Dès que le parisien met son pied sur le premier pas des escaliers descendants, les portes d'une mine d'or s'ouvrent devant ces yeux. C'est magique! C'est envahissant! C'est _ (je laisse le dernier mot à mes voisins)!

Si vous me suiviez toujours, vous pouvez imaginer que je raconte n’importe quoi... Malheureusement pour notre cher Métro, personne ne l'aime. C'est le seul français qui n'a aucun jour de vacance mais qui chante sans cesse. Sa chanson préférée, "Da da da da da da! Nous vous rappelons qu'il est interdit de fumer dans l'ensemble de la station! Reminder, smoking is prohibited anywhere on our premises! Chishta ba quida mala bapa booba dee!" C'est presqu'une chanson d'amour que certains ne comprendront jamais... L'odeur de la cigarette nous rappelle que le respect se mérite, mais n'est guère accordé. Cela dit, que je sois la première personne au monde d'annoncer publiquement mon affection pour notre cher métro! Maman, si tu n'as pas de nouvelle de ma part avant la fin de la semaine, saches que la coalition de ceux et celles qui aiment faire la tête m'a enfermé dans un vieux wagon de la ligne 13 afin d'empêcher l'air de pénétrer normalement dans mes voies respiratoires. Que la suite de cette déclaration d’amour ait lieu !  

RE!!!

ENGLISH: Happy Bastille Day!!! It has been a while. It has been so long that I might be the only one reading this post... For some reason, life just happens and we get so used to our new life that we forget how lucky we are to be here. As I tried to get used to this new life I stoped everything that I used to do in English. Thinking, reading, speaking and of course writing. Now don't get me wrong, I still call my family and talk with friends who speak English, but as for me, the only time I function in my mother tongue is when I have an accidental dream in English or get really frustrated (in which case a mean bilingual monster comes out of my mouth and insults every inanimate object in the room). That being said, I am sad to see this blog go to waste. I enjoy so much looking back over the years and seeing how my thoughts and feelings change in accordance with this double culture. So, in order to keep my promise, I will try (try being the operative word) to keep posting, but in both languages. Today I am writing to you in English and will then translate it into French for those Frenchies who might be interested, but more so for my own sanity.

I love France! Today more than ever! Some say that I’ve become Parisian. i don't know whether to be thankful or insulted. According to many French people, calling someone Parisian is the equivalent of saying, "Hey, you know I’ve noticed that you've become extremely irritable and cocky!" To which I always smile and say "really!" as if I were accepting a complement... As I try to reanimate this blog, I will later give more examples of the beautiful Parisian life. But for today I would just like to say hello again and please stay tuned...

FRANCAIS: Bonne Fête Nationale !!! Ça fait un moment. Ça fait tellement longtemps qu'il se peut que je sois le seul qui lit ce message... Pour une raison quelconque, la vie arrive et nous nous habituons tellement bien à notre nouvelle vie que nous oublions la chance que nous avons d'être là. En m'habituant à cette nouvelle vie, j'ai arrêté tous ce que je faisais en anglais. Penser, lire, parler et bien sûr, écrire. Mais comprenez bien, j'appelle toujours la famille et je parle toujours avec mes amis anglophones, mais personnellement, les rares fois que je fonctionne dans ma langue maternelle arrivent quand je fais un rêve accidentel en anglais ou quand je suis très frustré (en ce cas, un monstre méchant sort de ma bouche et insulte tout objet inanimé dans la pièce). Cela dit, je suis triste de voir ce blog en ruine. J'aime tellement regarder en arrière pour voir comment mes pensées et me sentiments changent selon cette double culture. Alors, afin de garder ma promesse, je vais essayer (essayer étant le mot clé) de continuer à publier des messages, mais dans les deux langues. Aujourd'hui je vous écris en anglais et je traduirai après en français pour les "frenchies" qui seraient intéressés, mais plutôt pour mon propre santé mentale.

J'adore la France! Aujourd'hui plus que jamais! Il y en a qui disent que je suis devenu parisien. Je ne sais pas si je devrais les remercier ou prendre cela comme une insulte. Selon plusieurs français, le fait d'appeler quelqu'un parisien et l'équivalant de quand l'on dit, "Hey, tu sais, je me rends compte que tu es devenu facilement irritable et insolant!" Chose à laquelle je réponds toujours, "a bon!" comme si je recevais un complément... Afin de réanimer ce blog, je donnerai plus tard des exemples de la belle vie parisienne. Mais pour aujourd'hui j'aimerais tout simplement dire re-bonjour et restez connectés!

elle est où ma mère? (rêve)

Je reçois un coup de fil. C’est ma mère. Elle vient d’arriver à la station de métro en bas. Elle mangeait dans la rame et quand elle a avalé la nourriture s’est coincée dans son œsophage. Ça m’arrive souvent donc je lui dis d’attendre et de ne pas bouger avant que j’arrive pour l’aider. Je veux lui dire qu’il faut qu’elle vomisse au lieu de boire de l’eau. Si elle boit de l’eau, la nourriture ne va pas descendre et elle s’étouffera sur l’eau. J’ai peur ! Je veux juste qu’elle m’attende !

Je suis à table avec Magali dans un café je crois. On est à l’extérieur. Je dois appeler ma mère ! Elle a besoin de moi ! Je ne connais pas le numéro ! Elle est dans le métro, donc je vais appeler le métro. Je compose le mot métro dans mon téléphone. Ça marche !

-Allo maman ?

-Oui Cole ?

-Allo maman ? Maman ? Allo ?

Elle est où ma mère ? Je cherche partout ! Je n’aime pas cette université ! Elle est froide ! Il y a des toilettes pour les mecs et les filles ensemble ! La France est bizarre ! Les gens qui sont avec moi m’aident à trouver ma mère, mais je n’ai pas l’impression qu’ils sont pressés comme moi ! Ils connaissent les toilettes ensemble. Ils sont habitués à ça. Je cherche dans les toilettes. Le carrelage et bleu ciel. Il n’y a qu’une cuvette de toilette et un lavabo. Il n’y a pas de fenêtre. La lumière est très sombre. Elle est où ma mère ? Il faut que je l’aide ! J’ouvre la porte des toilettes. Il y a un couloir qui est long avec des fenêtres sur les deux murs. C’est l’après-midi. Je vois les gens qui parlent ensemble au lieu de m’aider à trouver ma mère. Ils ne savent pas que ma mère pourrait mourir ! En fait, ça fait tellement longtemps que je la cherche, je me demande si elle est toujours en vie !

Je suis dans un restaurant à Amarillo au Texas (ma ville de naissance). C’est Calico County, un de mes restaurants préféré d’Amarillo. Je pars ! Ma mère a besoin de moi !

Je suis dans une voiture avec un groupe de l’église qui m’amène à la maison de mes parents. Je suis assis derrière avec Ben. Tout le monde est calme, mais il faut se dépêcher parce que je dois aider ma mère ! Je ne sais pas s’ils savent, mais elle pourrait mourir ! Peut-être ils peuvent me déposer en premier parce que c’est urgent ! Je veux pleurer !

Je me réveille.

Une Voiture Bélier

SO WEDNEDAY rolled around the other day! Oh Wednesday! How I loathed thee! I woke up at Laruiane’s house, made some coffee, and then went to Nanterre to sign the papers for my new second job! By the way, I got a second job as an Education Assistant (i.e. hall monitor) at Magali’s school. The job will give me 18 extra hours a week and will fill my schedule so that I work from Monday all the way through Friday.

Anyway, back to Wednesday! OH Wednesday! How I despised thee! After leaving Nanterre, I went to my future neighborhood to deal with the people at my current (unfortunately) bank. I had gone to the bank the day before (Tuesday) upon request that I arrive to sign the insurance papers for my housing insurance. Little did I know that they were the same papers I had signed last Saturday! In other words, I was called in for nothing! Oh well, I went ahead and took advantage of Tuesday by making sure that my account had been transferred (it hadn’t!) and by asking them if I could make a withdraw to pay my rent without fees even though the account hadn’t been transferred. I was told to go ahead, but when arriving at the teller, I saw that it had been closed early (FOR NO REASON WHATSOEVER!). This meant that I needed to return for WEDNESDAY’s incidents!

When I got to the bank on Wednesday to make the withdraw, the teller told me that I would need to take out a cashier’s check instead. He spoke with the woman in charge of my account (Mme Medjaouri) and she needed me to come back in an hour. Whatever! I obliged! An hour later I returned and sat down at Mme Medjaouri’s desk to take out a cashier’s check. She then noticed in my notebook that I had the bank account information of my landlord and recommended that we do a direct transfer instead. Unfortunately my account had still not been transferred from Caen, so Caen had to do the transfer and send a fax to confirm. Mme Medjaouri told me that she would make sure that this happened within the day and that she would call me when the fax arrived. I then left the bank again and wondered around Paris for three hours before deciding that she wasn’t going to call and that I had better return to make her do her job. When I arrived, sure enough, she had not contacted Caen to make sure that things were being expedited. A bit frustrated for some reason or another, Mme Medjaouri made the call to Caen and griped them out. She then hung up and gave me attitude. I thus informed her that I was sorry to bother her, but that I was getting a bit cold waiting on her outside. To that she responded, “You should have gone home!” to which I responded, “I am currently living with someone who lives very far from here and was afraid that if I go back, you would call me and I would simply have to turn back around. She then felt very bad and politely asked me to wait in the lobby while Caen sent the fax.

As I sat in the lobby, all I could think about was how much I didn’t want to be in the lobby and how much I really just wanted to go home to the United States. I was SICK AND TIRED of this horribly run administration! How on earth do they operate on a daily basis without…

CRASH!

What was that? Did someone drop something?

screaming…yelling…panicking…

“CLOSE THE BANK!” one woman yells.

Another woman then instructs me to get up and go up stairs immediately. I’m a bit confused, but soon understand as I see the street just outside windows is filled with smoke. When I arrive upstairs, I find myself hiding on the floor next to Mme Medjaouri. Another woman is crying and explaining that she saw the car just before it crashed into the bank. We are then instructed to go to the basement. We are then instructed to go into a small court yard. We are then informed by one of the bank directors that if we (clients) suffer from any post traumatic stress, the bank will be more than willing to pay for our treatment. HOW ABOUT YOU JUST GIVE ME A FAX AND MY DAMNED DEBIT CARD!

It seems that just as I was waiting for the bank to get their butts in gear, four individuals pushed a car into the ATM machines in order to break them open and steal the money. Realizing that they weren’t successful, they tried to break into the teller’s room and take the cash behind the counter. They were again not successful and all four escaped on scooters. HAPPY WEDNESDAY COLE!

Nobody was hurt in this incident, but I did become closer friends with the people at the bank as I went back today (Friday) to discover that my account was finally transferred! I still don’t have a debit card, but maybe a semi will try to break into the ATM machines soon and get the idiots at LCL to move even quicker! I won’t hold my breath!

Follow the link to see a video of the car on fire outside of the bank: http://www.leparisien.fr/paris-75/encore-une-banque-braquee-a-la-voiture-belier-a-paris-15-10-2009-674993.php

C'est une Vidéo!

This is a video blog! Click on the two videos to see what has been going on over the past week! You might notice a red spot on my head. DON'T WORRY! I just shaved my unibrow!

Il Faut Qu'on Fasse des Efforts!

By clicking on the title of this post, you will be taken to a blog on which is posted a video in which I am featured!

I’m going to warn you that I am LE TIRED, so if this blog at certain points makes no sense, please post your complaints in the comment box below. Your comment will be treated with strenuous care and great attention!

TODAY! Today was the day for me to start the big ole’ job in Evry, France! Every year, for as long as I have been alive, I have had a new adventure upon which to embark. Be it my first day of preschool, promotion Sunday at church, or simply the transition from my sophomore year at Baylor to my junior year at Baylor, each new adventure has had one common ingredient: the diarrhea! If you will walk with me a bit; I’m in the process of descending into the Métro at 7h00 when all of the sudden, WHAT!?!? This can’t be happening! I’m truly going to have to go home and miss my first day of work because of a sleepless night, too much anticipation, and (of course!) too much Nutella™! IS THIS REALLY HAPPENING TO ME? Thank goodness for me, but sad for those of you who find pleasure in reading about the painful suffering of others, today was NOT a runny day! Oops! I meant to say RAINY day! That’s it! Today was NOT a rainy day!

Contrary to the past, as I left Laruiane’s apartment this morning, I felt nothing. No fear, no anticipation, no reason for descending the train at Gare du Nord in order to pay 1€ to use the “clean” potty taunted me as I opened the gate of the apartment complex and looked for the shadow of the Eiffel Tower that had been unlit for over six hours. I tried to make myself realize that I was about to start the first day of the rest of my life, but the only thought that came to me was, “How am I going to manage to purchase a baguette this morning and still make it to Evry on time?” The question of being on time was certainly on the mind, but not a concern. I knew that if I ran into any problems in the Métro or couldn’t find the location of our meeting, I would manage and the French wouldn’t be surprised by my late arrival (considering the fact that even if late, I run the risk of being at least an hour early). I did have a little trouble finding the exact train because I had never made the trip to Evry from Laruiane’s apartment, but I did arrive with time to spare (9h05, 5 minutes after the meeting was scheduled to start, and still had to wait to begin for at least 30 minutes). As I sat and listened to the other assistants talk amongst themselves, I made began to make snide remarks under my breath about the fact that they were all speaking English in various international accents. I even texted Rachel to ask her to kill me.

If you read my blog while I lived in Caen, you remember that it itched me som’in ferce (bothered me) when the Anglophones insisted on speaking English and not taking advantage of the fact that they lived in France. Needless to say, this morning brought back many memories of my days in Cow Town, France (Caen). Nonetheless, I tried to seem as if I were a loner so that nobody would speak to me. Unfortunately/fortunately, the sweetest American girl from Rhode Island took her place to my left (the place to my right was occupied by my fancy new Baylor satchel). She didn’t say much except for a few French words here there. I thought that I might fool her into thinking that I was a language assistant from another country who didn’t know how to speak English by hiding everything with me that might suggest that I am American. Obviously, this didn’t work. She eventually discovered the truth and my cover was blown; thus began the English! And oh how magnificently and beautifully did it flow from the lips of my mouth! It was like Cactus juice in the Mojave Desert.

Disappointed in myself for having spoken English when I should have insisted that one practice French, I soon was dealt a blow!

As I spoke with this kind hearted American who calls herself Martha, I was quickly taken back to my first three weeks in Caen. If you have been a long time follower of cole-en-france, you know that the beginning was far from easy and rarely conducted in French! Martha, bless her little heart, spoke to me in French, discovered I was American, held a conversation with me in English, but quickly reverted back to French! I felt like a yoyo being thrown to the ground, only to be returned to the right hand. This young lady had been in France once before in a similar program as I, but unfortunately was not as successful with her friends in convincing them that French should be spoken as much as possible. Needless to say, she was a bit disconcerted and felt the need to return to France for a second round. I explained to her that I had been in the same situation, but discovered that in order to learn, you must make as many efforts as possible until successful. I didn’t tell her that I managed to piss off several people in the mean time, but simply tried to encourage her to expect the best from herself.

After having signed several documents and listening to some “very interesting” people give us some “very interesting details”, we were released for lunch. Naturally, I ate with Martha and spoke French all through lunch. She explained to me how she felt weird because she is all alone in France and still looking for an apartment and friends at the same time. I wanted to hug her and let her know that she would overcome and CONQUER la France, but I figured that might be awkward after only having met someone three hours before. She even mentioned that she had assisted one of these sappy reunions that the other assistants had planned in order that we might all come in contact and, OH MY GOD! SHARE OUR AMAZING WONDERFUL LIVES IN PARIS TOGETHER! As soon as she said that, I almost cried! Let me explain to you why:

First of all, all summer I had ignored every email arriving from any other English assistant. I knew that once I began relationships with these people that they would never go away. They would be to me the English speaking leaches thriving off of my freshly bathed skin. Therefore, I leaned heavily upon my contacts in France and landed on my feet with Francophones lined up to kiss my cheeks (face cheeks). Martha; however, has no such contacts in France and had to stoop so low as to going out with the other assistants! Ok, let’s stop here for a moment. Please note that I am fully aware of the amount of snobbery flowing from this post thus far! Also note that I am fully convicted of this snobbery! Shall we continue? I wanted to cry because all at once, I realized that I was looking at myself (only in the form of a girl from Rhode Island). There she was trying to make the necessary effort and taking anything she could just as I did one year ago. (flashback) Click on the following link: Il Faut Faire un Effort!

After enjoying lunch with Martha, we met back up with the other assistants to walk to a nearby school to see how things are run. WHAT A DINGER! It just so happens that we went to the school in which I will be teaching where the woman had no clue what to do with me when I visited her a month ago. Upon entering, the head of the school recognized me and immediately asked me to leave my information with her. She had tried to obtain it from the lady in charge of my file, but apparently they couldn’t decipher my handwriting well enough to write me an email to the correct address. Oh well!

During the afternoon session, a lady named Nathalie gave us a mock lesson in Russian just to show us how our students might feel when we begin to teach them English. It was very interesting and informative! I can see Nathalie’s passion for the students and hope to obtain the same level of consideration when teaching my students! I noticed that while introducing ourselves earlier in the morning, when asked why we wanted to become assistants, not one of us mentioned the children. It was all about our needs and how we could improve our lives with this experience. When this thought came to mind, I immediately realized that making an effort is so much more than watching out for you!

After our afternoon session, I rejoined the lady in charge of my school (I still can’t remember her name) and gave her my information. I also spoke with a girl from Canada who is distraught over the fact that she is all alone in this country and still has no place to live. She is currently living in a youth hostel, as is Martha’s situation as well. I tried to encourage this young Canadian (whose name I never knew) that although things are difficult in France, it is necessary to make an effort in order to succeed. There is little help from our employers concerning our daily lives; therefore, knowing how to make the necessary first steps is crucial! I have been bless with people like Magali, Lauriane, Abel, Charlotte, Stéphane, Rachel, etc…, but this is most certainly not the case for these other assistants. I have a broken heart for them, but don’t know what I can truly do for them other than be encouraging. I could offer to be best friends with them, but at the end of the day, I would not be able to give them the cultural experience that they need and disserve while living in France. They have friends with whom they speak English in their home countries, but I know from personal experience that the best thing for them would be to submerge themselves in the French culture and meet as many French people as possible! This isn’t an easy task, but as is with all necessary tasks, IL FAUT FAIRE UN EFFORT! (YOU HAVE TO MAKE AN EFFORT!)

J'Aime Les Œufs Sur Le Plat!

And we’re back!

I do apologize for the recent interruption! The past few days have been full of adventures! Ok, so maybe spending all day Friday working on my budget isn’t much of adventure, but hey, you should see what I created! I have an excel spreadsheet to kill, complete with charts and all the necessary bells and whistles! I am SO cool! And when I get bored with that, I just turn the television on and watch the TF1 (French Television channel 1) special about the 60 year old naturist who lives in a minivan on the beach! FIND THE BROCHURES OF THAT HOT VACATION SPOT AND SIGN ME UP! (PUKE)

[interruption] I’m not kidding you, I just saw on TV the fattest French person I’ve ever seen! And no sir, she was NOT wearing clothing! I don’t know who makes the laws in the country, but he or she needs to quit striking and make some new rules concerning what can and cannot be seen on TF1!

This week I did have the opportunity to eat with Laruiane and Charlotte at Lauriane’s house. I was under the impression that Lauriane’s cousin would be there; however, I was the only one invited. The two girls made dinner just for me! How nice! We had the traditional long 5 course French meal and shared hours of conversation! Before leaving, we made plans to meet up for brunch on Sunday.

On Thursday I had the opportunity to meet up with another Baylor student who just arrived in Paris to do the same work as me. His name is Aaron Reynolds and he is stressfully in the process of searching for an apartment. He reserved a hotel room for 10 days while he waits to find something, but as of late, his hopes have been pretty low. I invited him over for dinner and later on we met up with Abel (one of my international roommates at Baylor this last year in the Global Community) and Stéphane (another international student who was at Baylor this last semester). Abel and Stéphane wanted to go out, but Aaron was too tired after only having arrived the day before; therefore, he went back to his hotel while I enjoyed the company of Abel and Stéphane. I also invited my current roommate Hara to go with us because I knew that she had been longing to spend some time with people outside of the apartment.

On our way to find a place to eat, we were in the Métro when a hoodlum decided to spit by the door. Some girl saw him and gave him a dirty look. He was drunk, so as he exited the Métro, he also spat on her. She held her ground by simply yelling, “FILS D’UNE PUTE! FILS D’UNE PUTE!” I won’t translate that for you. We ate at a fastfood restaurant called Quick™ and then went to an Enlish pub. It was the 250 birthday of Guinness ™ (beer), so the bar passed around Guinness™ shot glasses filled with Guinness™. Hara recommended that we keep the shot glasses, so I helped her wrap them up and put them in her purse. We later on did shots of coffee at the apartment! After the pub we went to the Discotheque where Rachel and I had gone with Abel and some other students the first night that we arrived in Paris. Our friend Charles had given me several free passes, so it was FREE99! Stéphane was too tired to join us, so it was just Abel, Hara, and I. We danced until dancing was no longer an option because the club had gotten so stinking hot! At that point Hara and I separated with Abel and went back to the apartment.

On Saturday I woke up to a message from Aaron informing me that he was SO VERY stressed with having to find an apartment. I invited him to meet me for coffee and then we walked to Les Bois de Vincennes (a big park down the road). After walking around for a while, we decided to return back to my place, but got lost. I kept wanting to go in the opposite direction of my apartment for some reason, but luckily Aaron has a better since of European direction that I. It might have something to do with the fact that both of his parents are English. WHO KNOWS! When we finally got back to my place we had dinner and then I took him to the Champs Elysées so that he could see L’Arc de Triomphe. We decided that we wanted to go to Hillsong Paris for church in the morning, so we agreed to look at the time and address of the church on the internet when I got back to my apartment and he got back to his hotel then call each other on Skype™ to plan on a meeting place.

This morning I went to meet Aaron at the Métro Station Olypiades, but he had accidentally gone to Odéon. I called him and we straightened things out. We were a bit late to church, but honestly, not to disappointed. When we got there it was exactly as I had expected. Everyone spoke English and a translator was needed throughout the entire service for those three French people that were there. If you don’t already know this, Hillsong is a church based out of Australia but who has a church in London that operates a branch in Paris. That connection may not completely make sense, so let me put it this way: English – English – English – Frenglish. What’s worse than anything was the fact that the girl that spoke this morning was from Texas. I know that all you cowboys reading this now are hootin’ and hollerin’, but before you get too excited, know that she was a Tech graduate and tried to speak French with a HORRIBLE accent. She kept saying, “JUH TAM! JUH TAM!”, which I think is her version of the French phrase, “Je t’aime!” meaning I love you. At one point she tried to speak completely in French and the translator was translating her “sentences” into English. It was alright until she tried to explain that she went with her family to the top of the Tooer Ighfell (Eiffel Tower). What she was saying was so incomprehensible that the translator (unknowingly) translated her broken French into real French rather than into English. It was hysterical! She then introduced her mom and some other friends that were with her and had them stand up. I kid you not; these women looked like clowns they were wearing so much makeup! Their hair was all fake blond and frizzed from head to shoulders and the expressions on their faces made me want to roll on the ground laughing! I know that I’m not being very kind, especially considering the fact that I am talking about church, but if you were me and in another culture trying to fit in only to realize that your compatriots were making you look like a fool, you too would be ruthless! Unless you like overly made up women with fake hair, in which case you might feel at home. Needless to say, we weren’t too sad to leave!

This afternoon I invited Aaron to have brunch with Laruiane, Charlotte, and I. This time her cousin did come and so did her brother and her cousin’s friend. We ate at a Canadian restaurant where I had steak and eggs. We then walked in the Luxembourg Gardens and listened to a group of 50 – 60 elderly people play in a band under a gazebo. It was somewhat surreal as I began to understand that I was standing in the middle of Paris with French people enjoying a Sunday afternoon of music in the park! TROP COOL! The unfortunate side of things is the fact that I am currently sick with allergies. This happens EVERY time I move to a new place! C’est la vie! Needless to say, I went home for a Sunday nap (3 hours). I still have a terrible headache, so I’m going to the Pharmacy in the morning to get some decongestant. OH LA LA! I ALSO HAVE TO GO BUY A NEW CELL PHONE BECAUSE MINE JUST SHUT OFF AND WON’T COME BACK ON! ZUT!

On Wednesday I have to move out of this apartment, but I will be staying with Laruiane in her apartment for the time between then and the move in date of my new apartment. I’m also going to Lyon this weekend for the confirmation of Lauriane’s brother! I’ll be staying with Rachel and because of the numerous amount of family at Laruiane’s house, so will Lauriane! WE’RE GOING TO IKEA ON SATURDAY! DID YOU HEAR THAT JOHN AND AMBER! I’M GOING TO IKEA! WOO HOO! CINNAMON ROLL AND COFFEENESS!

En Ecoute

POST SUPPRIME

JE M'EXCUSE!

Appartager les Bons Temps!

I’m going to go ahead and warn you that this post may be one of the most interesting posts since the one entitled “Chinoise”. If you read this blog while I was in Caen a year ago, you’ll remember a post about certain bathroom incident with a girl from China. If you have never read this post, I encourage you to type in “Chinoise” in the search bar on the right.

I am going to go ahead and warn you that this post may mess with some of your sensitivities; therefore, please note that you have been forewarned!

I am currently sitting comfortably in my room after having taken a Sunday afternoon nap and eaten a nice dinner of chicken and pesto. I write this piece of boring information so that my Grandma doesn’t worry about me too much after having read this post. Hi Grandma!

Yesterday, I had a meeting scheduled with another random person about being my roommate in the apartment. I woke up, had a small amount of baguette with Nutella™ and did some shopping before the meeting (out of toilet paper!). Unlike my last meeting, this person actually showed up! The meeting was scheduled for 14h30 in front of the apartment building, so at 14h32, I headed downstairs to welcome an engineer student by the name of Arnaud. Arnaud has a very particular face and is very tall, so after waiting only one minute for him to arrive, I immediately recognized him as he exited the métro. I walked up to him to greet him and offered that we take a seat at the café in front of the apartment to chat. He wanted to see the apartment right away, but since I don’t currently live there, I couldn’t offer him instant gratification. Instead I just walked him into the building and showed where the apartment is located. He seemed interested, so we descended into the street and took a spot at the café to chat. He explained to me his current situation and how he is in his last year of engineering school after having taken a year to do internships in India and in other places around the globe. I also explained my situation and how I recently graduated from Baylor with a degree in French and Religion and that I am an English teaching assistant in Evry. We hit if off really well and had a lot of things in common, so when he asked me when I would be making my decision about a roommate, I told him that as far as I am concerned, he is it, should he so chose to accept the offer. He smiled and informed me that he was very interested. IT WAS LOVE AT FIRST SIGHT! HA HA HA!

I then invited him up to my current apartment to call the owners of the apartment to see when would be a good time to show it to Arnaud. She told me that we could come by later in the day and we agreed on 18h00. She said that she would contact the family currently living there to make sure that everything was alright with them. She said that she would call back us on Arnaud’s phone. I then invited Arnaud into the kitchen for some coffee or tea while we waited. We then talked some more and after an hour had passed, he recommended that we call back the owner. I did, and upon doing so, learned that she had yet to call the family. No big deal, I told her that we would come by around 18h00 anyway so that she and her husband could at least meet Arnaud.

As it was only 16h00, we had two hours to kill before going to the apartment. Arnaud then suggested that we go to the center of Paris to check out the Techno Parade. Welcome to Europe! Techno is ALL THE RAGE! He asked me if I had heard of the Techno Parade before and then tried to tell me that it was like a pride parade in the United States. I don’t know if he knows what a pride parade is, because the Techno Parade was just a large sum of people gathered in Paris to dance to loud music while going down the street. Arnaud wanted to meet some friends there, but he couldn’t find them. He said that it wasn’t that big of a deal, so instead we just walked around and laughed at the funny people. As 18h00 started to approach, we headed back to the apartment. Upon reached the owner’s (The Londners) door, we were greeted by M. and Mme Londner and the aunt of M. Londner. Mme Londner offered us some coffee and then went to make sure that it would be alright for us to visit the apartment. When she returned, she informed us that everything was a go! We then ascended the stairs and showed Arnaud the apartment.

Upon entering, Arnaud seemed interested, but as he realized just how small the place is, his facial expressions began to change. I could tell that it was smaller than he wanted and began to stress that things weren’t going to work out. He told Mme. Londner that he would reflect and give us a decision soon. We then exited the apartment, said thank you to the Londners, and left the building. I asked him what he thought; knowing very well what he thought, and listed to his concerns. As he explained to me that he wasn’t 100% certain, he said that he would think about it and get back to me. I told him that I would be going to Orange™ to buy a cell phone and that as soon as I had the number, I would send it to him. He then thanked me for taking the time to meet him and mentioned that we would keep in touch even if he didn’t decide to live in the apartment. I agreed; however, I knew better.

Arnaud descended into the métro and I began my walk to Orange™. I cannot express to you how stressed I was! I wasn’t sad, but just EXTREMELY disappointed! I wanted to lie down on the ground in front of me and fall asleep! Sleeping is my coping mechanism for fighting stress. I continued to walk and went into Orange™ to buy a pay as you go phone to use while I wait for the bank mess to clear. The lady that helped me was very nice and efficient and gave me exactly what I needed. Magali had already given me a phone to use; I just had to buy the card to put in it. This means that I NOW HAVE A NUMBER! It’s +33.06.48.62.16.90! Call me anytime! After leaving the store I still felt like lying down, but didn’t want to go back to the apartment and shut myself in my room. I therefore decided to take the Métro to the Eiffel Tower and lay in the Champs de Mars (it’s a park) while the sun set beneath the tower. It was a very nice atmosphere in which to be stressed, but the feelings that were overtaking me made me feel like I was going to vomit! I describe the feeling like this: it feels exactly like the first decline of a rollercoaster. I’ve used the rollercoaster illustration several times to describe my feelings, but this time it was absolutely true! It’s the feeling of being terrified to death, but not being able to do a thing about it! You must descend! The Tower was beautiful, but all I could think about was failing at finding a roommate. I know this sounds stupid, but I was distraught! I just kept praying over and over and over! I said, “Lord! Please take these feelings away from me! Calm me! Calm me please! I am SO stressed!” I figured that I would watch the tower light up and then head back to the apartment to have dinner. I began to enter some numbers into my phone when all of the sudden I received a text. It was Arnaud! WHAT!?!? He wanted me to join him and his friends at a bar near St. Paul! Was I reading this correctly? The same dude that just stressed me out to the max wants me to have a drink with him? I thought that when he said we would keep in touch that he was just being polite! NO! He wants to be friends with me! HOW ON EARTH!

As the tower shone before my eyes while the sun set beneath, I grabbed my things, turned my back from the glorious display in front of me, and got my butt to the Métro ASAP! As I walked with a purpose to the Métro, I couldn’t help but think that God was watching over me. As I sat in sorrow all alone, the Lord heard my cries and calmed the storm in me! I remember thinking that I was absolutely in the presence of God! I began to sing out loud, « Combien Dieu est grand! Chantez avec moi! Combien Dieu est grand! Le monde chantera combien, combien, Dieu est grand! » (How great is our God! Sing with me! How great is our God! The world will sing how great, how great is our God!). Some of you may know this song, so it might mean more to you, but just understand that I was elated by the fact that something so unthinkable just happened to me!

Upon arriving at the bar, Arnaud introduced me to his friends as his possible future roommate. I could see that he still hadn’t made up his mind, but that at least I knew that he was seriously interested. I took a seat, ordered a beer, and began to chat with everyone. One of his friends began to speak to me in English when Arnaud scolded him and insisted that he speak French to me. I wanted to HUG him! After laughing and enjoying our time at this bar, Judith (Arnaud’s friend) and some of the others suggested that we head out and find a night club.

John 8:7 But when they continued asking him, he lifted up himself, and said unto them, He that is without sin among you, let him first cast a stone at her.

You’ll understand why I have chosen to reference this verse in a moment!

We walked towards Place de la Bastille to find a good place to hangout. Along the way, Arnaud suggested that he and I duck into a store to grab some beer and chips. Like a little duckling following his mother, I followed Frenchie! We took our items and descended with the others into the Métro. Arnaud then handed me my beer and I proposed a toast to Baylor and the football game that was about to ensue. I thought that we would just enjoy the beer and enjoy the company; however, Arnaud informed me that I needed to have finished the beer before we arrive at our stop. As any other cool American would do, I beat him to the punch. I thought,”I won’t be drunk off of two beers, just a little more at ease! Besides, it helps to have a little bit of alcohol in the system when speaking a foreign language!” We exited the Métro and went into another bar. Everyone was ordering drinks, so I thought, “Why not!” and ordered a Guinness (dark beer). I began to feel a little happy, but not drunk. We chatted some and then went to meet with one of Judith’s friends who wanted us to join him at a night club. We met with him and he offered to take the girls to the club in his car while Arnaud and I took the Métro. Upon arriving at our stop, Arnaud said that we needed to go into another store and get two more beers. Oh là là! By this point I had no inhibitions and was truly following Frenchie! We took our beers into the street and he suggested that we finish them before arriving at the club. CUL SEC! BOTTOMS UP! When we got to the club, the man wouldn’t let us in because we weren’t dressed nice enough. I was obviously gone by this point, so I tried to persuade him that my jeans were special because they were American! It didn’t work. After some discussion, he let us in and we joined the girls. We danced and I literally almost knocked Judith’s friends tooth out by hitting his beer bottle with my elbow! OOPS! We didn’t drink anything in that club, so I thought that things would even out soon. Upon leaving, I discovered that we were headed to another club. At this club we all had another beer. Needless to say, I danced! I kept insisting that we pay attention to our things because I didn’t want them to be stolen. At one point Judith went outside to have a cigarette and I insisted that someone go with her. Arnaud told me to go ahead, so I followed her. She told me that I didn’t have to wait with her, but I told her, “My mother always said never to leave a girl alone in the street!” I don’t know that my mother has actually ever said that, but it is something that she WOULD say! Later on, Arnaud began to talk with this older woman and she asked for his number. I, in front of the woman, insisted that he NOT give his number to her. He didn’t care. He thought that is was funny.

We finally left the club, but it was 3h00, so the Métro was closed. We ended up having to take a bus called the Noctillian. I was afraid that I wouldn’t know how to get home, so Arnaud told me that I could stay with him at his friend’s house. His friend was gone, so it was just he and I. He made a palate for me on the floor and he slept in the bed. When we woke up the next morning, he looked up, saw me, and said, “OH! Bonjour!” He had forgotten for a moment that I was still there. He then made us some coffee and then I returned home. I was hoping that by staying with him he would give me an answer about the apartment, but I’m still answerless!

Although this story is a bit out of my character, it is absolutely true. I don’t plan on spending several nights on the town as I did last night, but I don’t regret having spent time with new people and possibly making some really good friends! I know this may sound crazy, but I do think that my prayers were answered as I lied stressed in front of the Eiffel Tower! I pray that the Baptist General Convention of Texas doesn’t read this and make me pay back all of the money they gave me while I was at Baylor, but I do believe that although I was under the influence, I don’t feel like I committed so terrible and unforgivable sin. As a matter of fact, I am pretty certain that it was the Lord’s will for me to spend the night with these people and enjoy myself! Please don’t call me to tell me that I’m a bad person or that I should be more careful! Also, if you are a bit older than me and a bit shocked, try to remember your early 20s! If you never did anything like me, you get a gold star! If you did, you know how it feels!

QUE DIEU M’A BENIS ET QU’IL EST GRAND!

J'suis Ouf!

I wasn’t going to write a blog tonight, but I thought that I’d go ahead and say something small since the last post was a bit loaded with upcoming events and because I never explained what happened with Rachel!

We’ll start with Rachel. After having called the French Embassy in the United States, she received another email from Madame MEAN. The email was very political and the mean lady attempted to reword the mean things that she had said. This time instead of insisting that Rachel accept the mean lady’s conditions she just encouraged Rachel to consider the difficulties she might face should she chose to live two hours away. In other words the nice lady at the Embassy contacted someone who gave the mean lady in St. Etienne a spanking! PRAISE JESUS!

As far as meeting with the random guy to see if he would be a good roommate, nothing happened. He couldn’t meet for some reason, so instead of rescheduling, he just ran away. Oh well! At least it wasn’t me having to run away this time!

As far as having dinner with Lauriane and her friend, IT WAS AWESOME! We started with a drink at a café near Montparnasse and then ate dinner at the greatest Crêperie in the world! No lies, this place rocked! It was Laruiane’s suggestion, so I am now and forever open to her advice on restaurants in France! She’s also the one that recommended the ice-cream shop in Lyon that has the greatest Ice-cream in the world! Needless to say, I plan on being friends with her!

Now for the story that made me write this post tonight. As I’m having dinner with Lauriane and her friend Charolotte, I am asked to share with them some of the stereotypes that Americans have concerning French people. I just shouldn’t have! Next time someone asks me this question, I plea the 5th! I of course had to mention that Americans don’t think that French women shave their armpits. This probably wasn’t the nicest thing to tell two French girls, but they weren’t offended and in all actuality, I just wanted to make sure that the stereotype is not true. They laughed and explained that Germany is where the women don’t shave and that all French women DO INDEED shave their armpits! PLEASE UNDERSTAND! FRENCH WOMEN SHAVE THEIR ARMPITS! IT HAS BEEN CONFIRMED SO STOP ASKING ME THIS QUESTION! It wasn’t this stereotype that got me in trouble, but the next one that I felt the urge to mention. I told them that Americans think that French people stink. Now, it wasn’t the stereotype itself that killed me, but the explanation that I shared shortly thereafter. I told them, and I quote, “Oh it’s probably because Americans take showers once or even twice a day whereas the French usually only take showers every third day.” PLEASE TRY TO ENVISION THIS IN YOUR HEAD! These girls had eyes the size of half dollars! They could not believe, not only what I was saying, but that I actually thought it was true. After letting the shock pass, they began to laugh uncontrollably while simultaneously explaining to me that French people bathe every day. The idea of bathing once in three days was appalling to these two very clean ladies sitting in front of me. Charlotte even cared to mention that she bathes at night and Lauriane in the morning. I then apologized deeply and told them that it was something that I had learned in highschool. I’m sorry Mme. Frederiksen if you are reading this; I did tell them that I learned this in your class. I must have seriously misunderstood what you were telling us on that day! Oh là là!

Things are still going very well! I’m meeting Magali today to get things settled with the bank and then I’m off to get a cell phone! YAY! Laisser les bons temps rouler!

Je Regarde TV3!

Well howdy!

I’m sorry for not having updated you sooner, but let me just say; although some cool things have occurred, not a lot has been going on every day!

I got back from Lyon on Saturday and had dinner with Magali! It was super! We chatted and laughed and enjoyed a nice evening. She is the one who is helping be get situated with all the necessary things (like a bank account). As I was talking with her about opening an account, she mentioned going back to the bank at which I had my last account in Caen and seeing if they still have my information. I’m SO stupid! Why didn’t I think of that? I went there today, and just as I thought, my account was still open! I just need to change the agency from Caen to Paris by having Magali fill out a few papers saying that I live with her for the moment. Oh là là!

On Sunday I went to a Pentecostal church. It was nice, but I’m not quite sure that I’m quite ready for the speaking in tongues. It’s ok if others wish to do it, but I don’t quite feel at home. I’m therefore still on the lookout for a church. Sunday night I went to see the apartment! It was super! Although it is small, it feels very open and inviting. The building is wonderful and everything in the apartment was updated. There is a kitchenette, a very nice bathroom with a bath/shower combo, and two rooms (one of which serves as a living room/bedroom. It may be the wrong place to live with a roommate if private space is absolutely necessary, but for someone who has lived on a college campus for the past four years, I think having a roommate would be great! I placed an announcement on http://www.apparager.com/ (the site at which I found my current apartment) and have already received over 80 responses! That’s how high the demand is in this neighborhood! I’m not kidding when I say that it is one of the most perfect places to live in Paris! The buildings are historic and the view from the apartment looks out over the street below and the trains in the distance. The minute I opened the curtains and saw the trains, I told the owner that my dad would be in heaven if he saw this! Click on the photo to see a plan of the apartment. Salle de Séjour means living room and Chambre à Coucher means bed room. Salle de Bain is the bathroom.

Last night, I met up with Abel to have a drink! It was SUPER! I told him about the apartment and told him that I would love to have him as a roommate, but he won’t be looking for a place to live until December. Too bad! He paid for my drink and we shared a very nice conversation. I will be meeting up with him again very soon.

Tonight I met up with Collin and Candice Bullard, two people from Baylor who are now living in Cambridge, England. They brought a friend with them and we had a night on the town. We went to a very nice crêpe restaurant near Montparnasse and had some of the best food I’ve had so far. I showed them around and we laughed about several things. I will find there blog and you can see a video that we made in front of the Eiffel Tower. It was HYPER COOL to see some familiar American faces in Paris!

Tomorrow I am meeting up with a guy interested in the apartment. I’m a bit weirded out by the idea of randomly meeting someone that I met on a website to see if they would be a good roommate, but hey, it’s better than Baylor just assigning me a random person! At least if I don’t like him, I can always ask to be excused from our meeting and run away screaming! Please take a moment to picture that!

On Thursday I will be having dinner with Lauriane (the girl with whom Rachel and I had dinner at her house) and a friend. We’re going to have crêpes too! I’m excited! Lauriane also mentioned the fact that maybe her friend would be interested in the apartment. Who knows! All I can say is that there are some potential stories in the near future! Stay tuned!

Que La Justice Soit!

Pour le francophones, cliquez sur la photo pour lire la band désiné!

Coming to France and encountering no problem whatsoever would be a dream, but not a reality! Today Rachel and I walked to the church to access the internet and check our e-mails. I had some junk mail to read for entertainment while Rachel; however, had some more interesting news to keep her amused. As I’ve already mentioned, Rachel lives pretty far from her English teaching job, which means that she must execute a two hour commute every day before and after work. Although this isn’t the most desirable fact of life for Rachel at the moment, it is certainly the spilled milk over which it isn’t necessary crying! On the contrary, there is already a sad pathetic little woman sitting at her desk in St. Etienne with milk ALL OVER her freshly pressed t-shirt decorated with English phrases like “Healthy Beautiful”, and “Mom will be so happy!”, and “I like to think I’m cool because I wear a shirt with English words on it that make absolutely no sense!” As it turns out, Rachel sent her address to the people in her Académie and a woman by the name of Mme Maléchet responded with:

You cannot live in Lyon and work in St. Etienne. I thought that I was very clear concerning this subject matter. Every year we have numerous problems concerning your long-stay card and of course your tardiness, absences…

I ask you one last time to accept our conditions either you live in St. Etienne or you quit.

Cordially
H. Maléchet

Needless to say, this woman is a loser! I understand her concern for Rachel being late to work, but in all seriousness, she DOES NOT have to right to tell her where she may live! That is an issue that concerns Rachel and Rachel alone! At least this is what Rachel, the Pastor of the church in Lyon, the nice lady at the Embassy of France in the United States, and I think!

After Rachel called her parents, we immediately contacted our new friend Carolyn Collins in Washington D.C. who is in charge of our program. She was just as shocked as we were to hear what had occurred. She assured Rachel that she would contact the necessary authority and send Rachel an e-mail as soon as possible. JUSTICE SHALL BE SERVED! If the académie still doesn’t budge, Rachel’s church will find an address for her in St. Etienne because,

THERE’S NO USE CRYING OVER SPILLED MILK MME MALÉCHET, SO PUT IT ON A T-SHIRT AND CRY TO YO MAMA!

Rachel was SO MAD, so we found as many individuals as possible to share her anger. It was a good moment for the soul.

I just told Rachel last night that I’ve finally decided that this time around, the French no longer scare me. The last time that I lived in France, every time something went down administratively that made me feel stupid, I blamed myself; this time I blame the administration itself. For example, I went to the bank in Paris last Tuesday to talk to someone about opening an account. When Rachel and I entered the breezeway and tried to access the front door, the woman refused to let us in. I rang the door bell as she was staring at me and she responded with, “ONLY ONE PERSON AT A TIME MAY ENTER!” I thought to myself, “HOW RUDE!” and dramatically insisted that Rachel leave the breezeway. As Rachel exited, the woman opened the door for me while scolding me for not reading the door. I literally rolled my eyes at her as she finally let Rachel in the door. Upon her entrance, I loudly and dramatically scolded Rachel for not being able to read the door. The woman just looked at us and then directly said to Rachel, “And normally you’re not supposed to enter with a hat either (Rachel was wearing a stylish bonnet of some sort)” I then ripped the bonnet off of Rachel’s head and exclaimed, “SHAME ON YOU!” The woman knew I was mocking her, and I personally didn’t care! I told Rachel that I was going to moon her as we left, but Rachel talked me out of it. If it weren’t for the other nice lady who works in the back that helped me obtain information about opening an account, I might have ignored Rachel and given to the mean lady at the front desk what was justly hers!

All in all, Rachel and I are learning how to manage the bad administration, but for the time being, we can’t help but feel frustrated. Pray that Rachel’s situation is solved and that all the mean people in France leave their apartment tomorrow morning and become victims of a drive-by baguetting.

Cordially,
C. Casper

Sans Abri, C'est Moi!

This is a photo taken at that long dinner that Rachel and I sat through the other night.

Currently, I am in Lyon, France where I came with Rachel to help her with her bags and to help her find things around town. She is living in a house provided by a church for which she will be working during her séjour in France. It’s a very nice home, but quite far from where she will be working in St. Étienne. She says that she will have a two hour commute both ways every day that she has to go to work. On the flip side, she doesn’t have to pay for rent, and the church is providing her with the finances necessary to use the public transport system. In the house there is another gentleman by the name of Alain-Georges. He is from Cameroun and also a VERY nice individual! He made dinner for us last night when we arrived! He also sat and talked with us for over two hours. All in all, Rachel’s situation is ideal (minus the long commute!).

I went back to Évry and finally spoke with someone who knows what is going on (well, sort of). I met a lady by the name of Catherine Hernandez who is in charge of my schedule and the minor details of the job. I had some questions for her about opening a bank account, but she didn’t know the answers. She went to make a phone call to someone who might know, but there were already two people in the office using the phone. That’s right, in a professional office like the National Inspector of the Department of Essonne for the Académie of Versailles, there are only two lines! Welcome to France. We waited a few minutes, but once one of the lines was free and Mme Hernandez had the opportunity to call someone, nobody answered. She then took my e-mail address and said that when she hears something, she will send me a message. I’ve still received nothing! No surprise!

Before leaving Paris yesterday, Rachel and I were in the hall of my current apartment building when an elderly lady by the name of Anique Pirrat who lives on the 6th floor asked us to carry a couple of small grocery sacks up the stairs for her. She told us that we could leave them at my door on the 5th floor and that when she made it up the stairs that far she would take them from there. Of course we insisted on taking them all the way up to her door. We also waited for her to pass my door so that we could get a chance to talk with her. It was perfect! As soon as she saw that we had left the door open, she was ready to chat! We asked her how she was doing and she asked us about our current situations in France. I informed her that I was looking for an apartment to stay for the next nine months and the wheels began to turn. She began to think of people that might be looking for roommates and of apartments that would suit me. After thinking for a bit, she remembered that there would be an apartment available on the 6th floor of the building just in front of the one in which I currently live. The building has an elevator, so I wouldn’t have to climb all of those stairs everyday if I didn’t feel like it. She informed me that the apartment was smaller than the one I am currently occupying, but that there are two rooms, a kitchenette, and a bathroom. The rent is €750 per month, but with a roommate, it would only be €375. That’s €25 below my budget! She told me that she would call the owner to ask about the place and that we could call her later on that evening once we’ve arrived in Lyon.

Once arriving in Lyon, we were picked up at the train station by the pastor of the church at which Rachel will be living and working. Once we arrived on site, we found an internet connection so that I could call Mme Pirrat. The call was successful as Mme Pirrat informed me that she had spoken with Mme Londner (the wife of owner of the apartment) and that I could call her for more information. She gave me Mme Londner’s number and I called right away. When she answered, I asked a few simple questions about the apartment and then asked if it would be possible for me to have a roommate. She wasn’t sure, so she told me that she would ask her husband and that I could call back at 13h the next day. I did! It was her husband that answered this time who informed me that having a roommate would be no problem. The only problem is that the apartment isn’t available until the middle of October; therefore, I’d have to stay with someone in the mean time. This won’t be a problem because as I have already mentioned, I’ve been blessed in Paris to have friends already who told me to let them know if I’m ever an SDF (Sans (Without) Domicile (Home) Fixe (Permanent)) and that they would help me!

I’ve not yet seen the apartment; therefore, I might be excited about nothing; however, it is in the same place as my current apartment which means that the door of the building opens to a metro station; there is a bakery and two cafés on the first floor, a Monoprix (A place like Target) across the street, and WONDERFUL views! Please pray that this works!

I’m still trying to open a bank account and get a cell phone, but other than that, Things are coming along just well!

Le Mot Pour Enamel Est Émail

Bonjour ya'll!

I am indeed alive! The internet here has been hit or miss (as is the French tradition); therefore, I’ve not been able to update like I’ve wanted. I have; however, the internet for the moment, so I will let you know what’s been going on.

I met Rachel in Charlotte, NC after leaving my family in the High Plains of Texas. We had one last American meal at Chili’s Too and a glass of wine before taking the plunge over the pond. As is normal, we didn’t sleep that well, so when arriving in Paris, we were a little tired.

We went through customs with no problem and received all of our bags, which we soon drug through the Parisian Metro system (OH LA LA!) to our friend Magali’s house in Nanterre (just north of Paris). After asking three different people for directions, we finally found the tower in which she lives. Of course when we got there she wasn’t home, so we followed someone in the front door and put all of our bags in the lobby. We then decided that I needed to go back to the train station to see if Magali had gone to look for us. While I was gone, Magali found Rachel in the lobby and when I returned, Rachel found me and told me that Magali had come by. Rachel was also standing in the lobby with the man who had come to fix Magali’s gas line. We let him in the apartment and he began to ask us several questions. We didn’t quite understand what he was saying, not because he was speaking French, but because we don’t know anything about fixing a gas line. So we laughed as the man insisted that we know what has been going on. When he left, we feel asleep on the couch for 5 hours (bad idea because we didn’t quite sleep that night!). When Magali came home, I realized that I needed to go to Paris to meet with the girl from whom I am renting an apartment for the month. I was supposed to call her earlier on in the day, but because of my nap, I put her in a bit of a panic. Oh well! She’s fine! I met her that evening and she gave me the tour of the apartment and the keys. It’s a NICE place! I wish I could stay here, but I’m afraid that it’s a bit above my budget and quite unavailable. I am; therefore, still on the prowl.

Later on that evening Rachel and I met up with her friend Lauriana that she met from Lyon who now lives in Paris and took her to meet up with our friends Charles, Able, and Stephane who were foreign exchange students at Baylor this past semester. It was a GREAT night! We met them at a bar and then Charles took us to a techno night club. It was quite funny, but we surely enjoyed watching the French try to dance (not that we Americans were any better!). We had to return to the metro before 1am so that we could take the train back to Magali’s house, so we walked with Abel and Laurianne to the metro station and said goodbye for the evening. Tomorrow we will be having dinner with Laurianne at her house!

On Friday Rachel went with me to see the school at which I will be teaching at talk with someone. When we got there, the director was a bit confused. She told me that I should have gone to some other place to receive instruction, so I informed her that my assignment said to come to her. She saw my sheet of paper and said, “This is the first time that I’ve ever seen anything like this!” She then took Rachel and I into her office and called someone. When the person answered the phone, the director said, “Well, I have an assistant sitting in front of me. What do I do with him?” I felt a bit insulted, but not surprised at the disarray of the French administration. The director then said, “It says that he starts on the 1^st of October, so he can’t start today!” WHAT?!?! TODAY?!?! Needless to say, this woman was clueless. She told me to come back Monday and go to some other place where I can meet with the pedagogy instructor. I’ll be going back in the morning!

Yesterday we tried to get a cell phone for me, but in order to do that you have to have a bank account first; therefore, we just walked through Paris, went back to my apartment to take a nap, and did some grocery shopping before meeting Magali and her friends for dinner. We were 30 minutes late to meeting Magali at a metro stop, but for the French we were on time. We then walked with her and her other friends to the restaurant where we waited for an hour for more of their friends to arrive. We finally ordered drinks and yet another hour passed before the others arrived and we had the chance to order our food. By the time we ate and chatted for a while, we had been in this restaurant for over four hours! I’m not kidding you, this is normal for the French! They don’t eat out very often, so when they do, it’s a BIG deal! Needless to say, I was ready to leave!

Today we went to find a church and stumbled upon a protestant reformed church. It was boring, so I won’t go back. After that we joined our friend Andrew who is studying at the Cordon Bleu and had lunch with him. We then went back to my place, took another nap, and had Andrew over for dinner. We had pasta and enjoyed throwing things out of the window just for fun. There is a skylight under the window in the kitchen, so of course we had to have a contest to see who could hit it with something. I won because not only did I hit it, my piece of bread stuck to it. It’s still there! Now I sit in one room of this apartment and write this blog to you! YAY! I hope you are all doing well! I miss you!