What about...gee, I don't know..life? How does it feel to be living in France?
In short, fantastic, except for my poor wallet, which has had far more currency go through it then I would care to admit due to the high cost of living and the generally high costs that anyone experiences when having to buy new household items because they now live on the opposite side of the Atlantic. But you, of course, were expecting that answer, because virtually everyone who chooses to study abroad says that they enjoy the experience. But HOW is life different?
Any discussion of my life so far in France, however, should start with one little disclaimer. I have, so far, only experienced one part of the country, Provence, a region which frequently, well, isn't very French. In most aspects of life, Provençal habits are closer to neighboring Italy and Spain than they are to northern France. Many people say that the French have a unique character which is a curious mixture of Celtic froideur (a cool, aloof, toughness) and Latin warmth and love of life which might not always be 100% sincere, but is a hell of a lot more fun. Provence, as the part of France where the Romans first came to Gaul and where a good part of the population has always come from somewhere else, belongs just about entirely to the second category. Our history professor from the last couple weeks, Claude, said that in spite of Marseille's ugly reputation when it comes to race relations, the average Marseillais would have a far easier time living with Arabs from North Africa than with Bretons, the Celtic people from Brittany, in northwest France (a traditionally more seafaring, religious culture where a good number of people still speak the Breton language. And where it rains all the goddamn time), and I can believe it.
For starters, when it comes to the weather, it's a hell of a lot hotter here than in the rest of France. In the middle of the day, then, it only makes sense that you don't feel like moving around a whole lot (although that's starting to change as the weather slowly gets cooler). So, we take our fair share of siestas and often don't get terribly active until later in the day. People also have a way of looking sharp and at ease in what they're wearing - this is a Mediterranean climate, so people are generally dressed pretty casually during the day. But we're also pretty close to Italy both geographically and in mentality, and once you combine that influence with the fact that Aix-en-Provence is a rich city, people generally seem to be pretty conscious about their appearance. This shouldn't come as a surprise to anyone, but you don't see girls with laughably slutty outfits (you know - women who clearly don't know what their appropriate clothing size is or are about to have an episode of free booby. Anyone who was at Michigan City High School's prom knows what I'm talking about) or guys with shorts or saggy pants going out at night here. Guys wear an ungodly amount of cologne (getting smacked by a cologne vortex when a large group walks by on the street is normal) as well.
There's also apparently a slight problem with the Corsican Mafia here, which our history professor warned us about during our second week here, although he ranted about it in a way that made it sounded conspiracy theory-esque. Nope. I couldn't find the English-language article that I meant to put a link to here (Danielle, Sara, or Shannon, I remember it was of you that found it, post it in the comments section if you're reading this!), so I'll put this one in French from L'Express, a well-known French hebdomadaire (weekly magazine), for you all to struggle through instead. It's entitled "Aix-en-Provence in the grips of the Mafia", and it's from last year. http://www.lexpress.fr/actualite/aix-en-provence-sous-l-emprise-du-milieu_1224847.html And moving on...
People also have a completely different sense of time, much like in nearby Spain. Unless you're getting on a plane or a train, don't count on anything being on time, and definitely don't have the annoying habit that some Americans have of arriving super early to things... you won't piss anyone off, but you'll just spend a longer time waiting. And unlike in America, people won't feel awkward making you wait for them. Appointments and classes usually start a few minutes late (and occasionally quite a bit more than that). Hell, even my German class started almost 15 minutes late yesterday, and that's GERMAN. Once, I was slightly late to my first meeting with the Massons before I moved in, and later, I was seriously late to a friend's house because I was waiting for someone else who ended up not coming with. When I started apologizing profusely, they seemed confused. "What was the big deal?" they thought.
I don't go to restaurants or get food out very often (and when I do, it's often pizza or ethnic food- Middle Eastern/North African or Vietnamese food is often way cheaper than going to "French" restaurants), but a few words about customer service: you waiter is (usually) not an inconsiderate asshole - there's just not an expectation that they will check on you every few minutes to ask you how your meal is, and you have to ask for your check. The French would see that as being intrusive otherwise. And you need to just take your time and expect to wait a little. RELAX. If not, those workers who are doing their job (while not feeling the need to bend over backwards for the customer) will get annoyed, and then your service will be that much slower. This ain't America, folks. Likewise for other stores. When I went to get my cell phone plan, the guy working at the desk kept having friends coming into the store, and heaven forbid, he wasn't giving his undivided attention to the customer. The job still got done. Imagine that.
Finally, people are more comfortable with being physically close to other people in Provence. I haven't noticed if women do this with each other (not being a woman, there are certain observations that I'm not capable of making), but this is definitely true for guys. At the bars after a few drinks, instead of the brief, somewhat violent bro hug, guys who are friends often put their arms around each other for a little while (high on the backs, folks. This isn't the Marais in Paris). And then, of course, there's the bise, the air-kiss on the cheek thing that Americans all think is weird. It turns out you don't have to know someone well at all for it to be a thing, if the other person is also of student age and the relationship isn't a formal one. Women do it with each other all the time (sometimes blocking the hallway on the way to classes when everyone is trying to move. C'mon people!), and the same can be said for men and women. This sometimes includes with women I've just met and whose name I still haven't really learned yet. And here's the kicker - in spite of what people might have told you (like they told me), it's sometimes done between guys as well, and not just friends who you've known for ages either. It seems like that's not the case elsewhere in France or with people who aren't originally from the region (for a US comparison, when people from other areas come here, it's like a Snowbird moving to Florida. Different cultures within the same country coming into contact), but you can imagine that I was confused as shit when a couple guys I was talking to during Erasmus night at the Woohoo Bar both leaned in for the bise immediately after I introduced myself. We're friends now and I actually went with a couple of their friends on the Mediterranean in a boat belonging to one of them, by the way! Anyway, as far the bise goes, it's generally good advice to just wait until someone else makes the gesture and don't otherwise. It already seems normal after just a couple weeks here.
I also went to some old friends of the Massons and got to have my first 100% legit, 7-course meal (if I remember correctly?) after a couple glasses of absinthe and a few games of pétanque (which got progressively easier as I drank more absinthe. How about that?). The Massons asked me last minute if I wanted to come with, and not wanting to turn down a chance to go out to a house in the country and meet some new people, I came along. Marie-Claire (Madame Masson) apparently hadn't even told her friend that she was bringing a guest, but she knew that I was staying with the Massons and seemed delighted to have an unexpected guest. In the US, bringing an unannounced dinner guest would be considered rude..but this is Provence, and there was PLENTY of food. The main dish was soupe au pistou, a hearty (yet vegetarian) Provençal peasant comfort food standby. Some awesome unidentified appetizers, salad, a fantastic cheese plate with huge hunks of smelly, delicious cheese, homemade tiramisu, Moroccan mint tea and plenty of wine were also part of the meal. It took us..three hours? to eat everything. It was a great time and was definitely one of the best meals I've ever had.
Aside from that, classes have gone well so far. With German finally starting on the 22nd, all of my classes have had at least one session now. This weekend, I also climbed Mont Sainte-Victoire, the mountain just north of Aix that Cézanne loved to paint. I didn't leave until relatively late in the afternoon, and it was still hot when I left, but it was totally worth it. The views of the Provençal countryside were gorgeous, the exercise was refreshing, and I met some cool people at the top. Here's a few pictures from the hike.
And you might notice here that I'm on the summit as the sun is setting. Wonderful picture idea, helped by the fact that some of the Brits, Spaniards, and Americans I met near the top shared a bottle of wine with me unexpectedly at the former monastery just below the Cross of Provence. Bad idea, however, on a practical level, since I wasn't spending the night up there and had to scramble down the mountain to avoid getting trapped in the dark. And sure enough, it was pitch black by the time I reached the parking lot. Kinda freaky. I kept thinking that a wild boar, drug smugglers, or drug-smuggling wild boars were going to leap out of the bushes and attack me. Anyway, I plan to head back here again earlier in the day in the future, both to enjoy the hike again and to try to catch a glimpse of the rare Bonnelli's Eagles which nest on the cliffs on the side of the mountain.
Tomorrow I'm flying to Munich after class to meet up with Till and some other old German friends for a return to the Fatherland and a weekend of this:
Oktoberfestzeit! WOOOOO!! Alright, I'll be posting about this soon enough! Night guys!
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