A Philosophy

Not being able to communicate in the language of an entire country provides extended opportunities to talk to one's self. Considering I spend most of my time in my own head anyway, this hasn't been too difficult of a transition. In fact, I've realized it's actually a blessing to be able to tune out the crowds around you. For example, I'm glad I can't understand what the gang of unruly teenage boys at the train station are saying to each other (or to the girls passing by).

But while I've been in my head bubble, I've been thinking a lot about language in general. It is astounding to realize that I may never understand 80% of the people of the world. While I am absolutely against forcing one global language, I understand some of the benefits. Imagine what it would be like to understand those in our neighboring countries, or the countries with whom we are at war, or our new friend who just moved here from France, China, or Mexico. Imagine what we could learn, avoid, and understand.

I have come to the conclusion that we just have to try harder. We should break out of our own shells and make the effort to understand others. We make such huge generalizations about people based on one random fact, like their country of origin. I certainly had stereotypical ideas of French people, most good, some bad, and I know I have similar opinions of other countries as well. But once you're living among them, living like them, it's so much easier to understand why they do the things they do. Sometimes you even find it makes more sense. Minor example, they eat kiwis differently here, and it works better than what I used to do.

So all that to say, I've been thinking a lot about my preconceived notions of people groups. This even applies to pockets of people within a culture. Everyone is a person. We all have bodies and bodily functions, we all eat food, we think, we feel. We each live the way we see fit. It's a unifying and comforting feeling, particularly when you're in the middle of an unknown culture.

If I've learned anything so far it's that, just because I believe something is right, and everyone I grew up with thought it was right, there may be 95% of the world who has never even heard of what we think. This doesn't always mean we're wrong or that there is only one answer, but it's worth considering before we defend something without really thinking it through.

These are just my random thoughts. Writing them helps me understand what I'm thinking. I'm not meaning to be preachy or boring, I just thought it was food for thought, and thinking is what I've been doing a lot of lately.

A Way to Make the Purple Blob Edible

When life gives you eggplants, don't make what I made.

I received a note this morning in French that I think was asking me to use the eggplants in the fridge for Marie's and my lunch. Well, actually it said "aubergines" so I first had to look it up to see what vegetable I was supposed to be cooking.

When in France, it may seem like a good idea to find an American website online that gives you simple, Grannie-style recipes. There are drawbacks however. For one, we don't have the same ingredients or cooking utensils here. Two, if I didn't even know what an aubergine was, the chances were slim that I could make anything edible out of it, no matter how much butter the recipe called for.

So I tried anyway. I peeled and sliced an eggplant. This being the first time, I couldn't be sure, but I'm pretty sure it was a bit overripe. Then I coated the slices in butter. I made my own breadcrumbs (but I now understand that big chunks of broken crusty bread don't count) and then mixed them with salt and pepper. Then I attempted to roll the slices in the crumbs. It didn't work so I just put the slices on the baking sheet and drizzled crumbs on top. Then it went into the oven.

Since I was planning for disaster, I went ahead and made eggs too. They are my backup in any situation.

I didn't set a timer so when I felt that the eggplant might be ready, I took it out of the oven. I tasted it. I spit it out. But, I decided to just see if Marie might eat it. She's a lot less picky than me. What a success! She loved it, oddly enough. She ate almost a whole eggplant. It was amazing.

So, if anyone was searching for a sure-fire way to win my heart and keep it forever, I've just discovered that you just have to like my cooking. Really like it, not just pretend. Also I decided that I need to learn how to cook something other than eggs and pasta.

A Sheep-Dog

This is Mech-Mech. She is a sheep who thinks she is a dog. Until three weeks ago, we thought she was a boy. She is a girl. She tries to eat my books. She likes me to pet her around her ears. Today, she slept on my feet.

Doors

This post has a lot more content than just my pursuit of doors, but I thought the title fitting since doors are what I want most right now. As of Friday afternoon, there have been almost no doors in our house. Why? you might ask. Well, the house is in the process of being renovated, as it has been since before my arrival two months ago. We are at the point of sanding and painting the doors. Therefore, no one has bedroom doors or bathroom doors. This is unfortunate. It means that when I want to change clothes in my room, I'd better be uber fast, or when I want to shower, I have to wait until the children are soundly asleep because they can see the shower from their rooms, and, most unfortunately, if I must make use of the other bathroom facilities, I have to make absolutely sure no one in the family, or the other three men helping with the renovations, are anywhere in the near vicinity. Awkward.

But, a lot more things happened this week as well. First, I had a lot of free time, which was fantastic. Anne was home all week and therefore, I had some time off. On Thursday night, I was able to go to a gathering in Marseille with a large group of international students who are studying in Marseille. A bunch of representatives from various consulates were there as well and the security was high. I found the hotel because of all the police standing outside it. It was amazing to see how many Spanish people there were. Second to Spanish must be Germans. I was the only American. I felt quite outnumbered. Fortunately, most international people speak English as well so I was able to communicate a little. I met a nice Polish girl there so that was cool. I wish at least my consulate rep had come but alas, he/she did not.

Friday morning I got my hair cut. I was a bundle of nerves but Hannah and Camilla were with me and they kindly forced me to go through with it. I had read horror stories on the internet of girls getting their hair cut in France and walking out with unwanted mullets. I did not want a mullet. So we studied up on our hair vocabulary and marched on in. It was awesome! The place had a great atmosphere and all the girls who worked there were really helpful. We only spoke French but we were able to communicate just fine with a little sign language to help. The assistant washed my hair for probably fifteen minutes and then led me to the chair. Then the girl who actually cut my hair arrived. She confirmed what I wanted and then went at it. My hair was flying everywhere! Most of it ended up in my shoes. It was an amazing process to watch. She definitely knew what she was doing. After maybe 30 minutes, my hair was cut, dried, and the cut was evened up. I was so happy with the result and with the fact that the experience was fun and that I'd had a real conversation in French with someone in my town. I almost felt like a local...almost.

Saturday I babysat for a little while and took the kids to see a creepy, animated, Japanese movie at the cinema. It was about two pandas and a little girl. Most parts were actually really cute but the Papa Panda really freaked me out. I may possibly have dozed a bit to block him out but the kids really loved the film. We were the only ones in the theater too so that was fun.

That night I went out to dinner with seven of my friends from school. We went to a little restaurant themed after the Reunion Islands, a place most of us had never heard of. The food was excellent and it was great to get out with some new people. Since we were all from different countries, we mostly spoke in our common language, French. Therefore, I didn't have a lot to say but it was great fun listening to the conversation. We represented America, Germany, Italy, Columbia, and the Czech Republic. Marseille is incredibly beautiful at night. With all the lights it looked like Christmas but the weather was warm and breezy. Fantastic!

So this afternoon I'm planning to go to the cinema alone and then I'm babysitting for my neighbors, a prospect I'm excited about since I like their family and I could really use some extra cash. I got a little overexcited at the shops this month. Next week is the children's ten day school vacation for Toussaint (All Saints) so I'll be working a lot. I'll let you know how it all goes next weekend!

A Train

The day started out oddly. I left the house a full two minutes early, practically guaranteeing I'd get a parking spot at the gare (train station), therefore eliminating the necessity of parallel parking on the sidewalk. Have done this once before. Not a great success.

Imagine my surprise when I arrive at the gare, only two minutes early mind you, and realize I have almost half of the parking lot to myself. This was unnerving. I was positive I must have gotten up an hour early or something and kept checking my watch to see if the little hand had become possessed recently. It had not.

I believe that the French have a special transmitter lodged in their brains which allows them to automatically know when the SNCF train employees would go on strike. They at least have some kind of sixth sense. I, however, am not French, no matter how hard I may occasionally try to be.

So I waited. I was supposed to leave on the 7:38 train, like usual, but alas, there was no 7:38 train today. So, I waited for the 7:50. The 7:50 was 25 minutes "en retard" meaning, it was really late.

When the train finally arrived, I was lucky enough to end up in the same car as Camilla who I generally meet in Marseille to eat breakfast with. The train was so full that every seat was taken and where we were standing near the doorway, there were so many people, you had no choice but to get really friendly. You know how there's a scale for how close people stand to others, the spectrum probably ranging from strangers to lovers? It would appear that we all loved each other very much today.

We were late to school but since everyone knew about/were suffering from the strike, we were quickly forgiven. We proceeded to take an exam to test our level of French (distastrous, particularly the oral comprehension) and then to have a school-wide party with foods we each brought to represent our country. Hannah and I made peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. They were a hit. Our teacher watched, fascinated, as we put them together and we got lots of good comments from other students. We also heard a lot of nervous comments and things like, "You put that with jam?? That's strange." and "Isn't that really heavy? Isn't it fat?"

Next was time to catch the 2:33 train back to Aubagne. I really wanted to get home to finish a movie I'd started last night. The rental was going to expire at 8:30 and I needed to finish it before I got the kids. The train started right on time and I released the breath I'd been holding in nervous anticipation. We were going to make it! And then, halfway through, it stopped. Right in the middle of nowhere. So we sat (and slept) for 30 minutes. Gotta love French strikes.

The happy ending to this long and rather pointless account is that I did indeed arrive home late but fortunately, the family had other plans for picking up the children from school so I was able to finish the movie. It completely made up for the ridiculousness of the trains. Well, that and the PB&Js.

News From Home

Ok, this is one of those posts that I don't really want to write and that's not going to be especially fun to read either. But, I'm going to write it anyway, because I want to keep people updated, with the good news and the bad.

This week was one of the most difficult of my life. I was just coming off an episode of homesickness that had lasted about three weeks. Sunday and Monday I was in a ridiculously good mood for no reason and I was glad to be here. It was nice, but of course, didn't last long. Monday night I had a message on Skype and on my phone telling me to call home. I knew then what had happened but I could only hope I was wrong.

I finally got in contact with my mom to confirm that my grandad, my mom's dad, had died that morning. It was apparently peaceful and he'd been sick a long time but I was not expecting it to be this soon. All I knew is that I wanted to be home. I wanted to be with my family.

I went to school the next day thinking it would be good to be distracted. I was wrong. I got a bad stomach virus on top of it all and spent most of the four hours zoned out or with my head on the desk. That night I told my host mom and she said I could go home for a few weeks and even helped me find flights. It was sooo tempting but everyone from home said to stay here. It's expensive and so short notice. I was sick, would have been struggling with jet lag the whole time, and if I'd missed any flights, it would have complicated things so much more because I'd be arriving the night before the funeral. Basically I had to choose between this and Christmas.

So I stayed here, being basically useless because I just kept thinking how I could be at home right then. Thursday was the worst day. The funeral was at 11am where you are, 5pm here. I stayed in my room all day looking up pictures of haircuts I want to distract myself. At 5 I had just picked up the kids from school and right then, one of them decided to start crying and screaming at me for some reason that I have yet to understand. So there I am, on the verge of breaking down, shaking, and standing in the rain. Here, not where I should have been.

I spent the next few days locked in my room doing what I call "wallowing." I was planning on doing it today too but last night I got to talk to my mom and brother on Skype and that made me feel better and then a friend convinced me to go to her house to watch Twilight while eating Nutella and pretzels and sipping wine. Pretty content to stay in my room continuing my pity party, I first said no but I'm glad she convinced me to go. It was nice to be among people again, doing regular fun things and not thinking about home.

Driving back to the house, I was thinking how much I really do love this place and how lucky I am to live here right now. I just wish there were people from home here that I could show this stuff to. I'm also really missing Barnes and Noble. How bizarre.

Modernity

This week my title has dual meanings. First, my class at Alliance Francaise went on a field trip to the Musee d'Art Contemporain (Museum of Contemporary Art). Thus the first meaning of my title: modern art. Now, I've discovered a deep appreciation for abstract and modern art from my time at Milligan College. I have come to understand that, even if I can't get a thing out of a particular painting/sculpture/etc..., maybe someone else can, and, one would hope, at least the artist got something out of creating it. And sometimes I really do get it. Sometimes it touches me and I don't even know why.

But sometimes, I just don't understand. For example, with our over-enthusiastic tour guide, we spent a minimum of 20 minutes studying, in minute detail, a huge swirly painting/piece of fabric on the wall. It was called to our attention that the color was meant to hurt the eyes and therefore we were forced to stare at it for far too long, just to understand. After that, the white museum walls never did seem to stay still for the rest of the trip.

Fortunately, after our dissection of at least another 6 exhibits and having viewed at least 8 times a short film set on repeat of a man purposely flinging himself down the billion stairs of the Marseille train station to demonstrate a poem, we were set free to roam the museum alone. That was when it was really fun. We got out the cameras and started making art of our own. Above is one of the two giant thumbs featured there. The other is outside the building and is probably a few stories high.

So anyway, that was my trip to the museum. It was awesome and I learned a lot, particularly how much I hate buses and how ill I could easily become while riding one standing up. I also learned about art of course, some new vocab words, and some fun facts about my teacher and fellow students. Overall an exciting day. Who doesn't love a field trip anyway, no matter the destination?

The second meaning is this: I'm attempting to modernize my look. I know you are all thinking, 'Oh no Kaity, you've always dressed so well! You are a trend setter and you always look so put together.' I know, I know, but now I'm going to do even better. (Please, please, note the sarcasm in this paragraph. It is not funny at all if you think I actually do believe this nonsense.)

But really, I am trying. I went shopping Saturday with a goal and did quite well. I've picked a color scheme and a look and I'm trying to only buy things that fit into that wardrobe. I think this is how it's supposed to be done anyway but I'm just now figuring this out. Anyway, I found shoes that hurt my feet slightly less than the ones I had but look radically better than flip flops. I found more leggings and two cute dresses to go with them. I also found awesome earrings to match my new bracelet and necklace that I found last week at the best jewelry shop ever. It has so many shiny things it made me dizzy but it's really inexpensive and pretty. Hooray!

So, this is me striving for a little more modernity. Next step, hair. Definitely planning to cut it. It's in my way and I'm ready for a change. Also probably going to go darker but you've seen that before. Considering some sort of bangs again but not too sure. Anyone with any suggestions on the matter (ex. "No, never cut your hair!" or "Go bald, it'd be a good look for you." or even a mild "Sure, maybe go shoulder length but bleached with blue stripes.") would be helpful. Just looking for outsiders' opinions since I can't really see myself. I only have a handheld mirror at the moment.

To sum things up, modernity is tough. It's tough to understand and it's tough to achieve. I found myself considering whether I even want to achieve it. Everything changes anyway, what's the point in trying to keep up? But then I realized something. I look back through periods of history and I say, 'Wow, it must have been awesome to be alive then, to dress like that and do the things they did.' But realistically, if I did live then with had the attitude I have now, I would have missed out on that life anyway. Therefore, I am striving for change. I am striving to live in the now. I am ready to learn modernity.

Cinema

As I'm settling into the routine here, I'm looking for more and more ways to stay entertained. For example, what was once a momentous occasion, such as venturing into Marseille by myself, has now become an almost daily occurance and has since lost some of its charm. Driving in town, once the stuff of nightmares, is now second nature (well, usually.) Now, I know I need to be doing some travelling. That would certainly break up the routine. No worries though, I have plans to visit Avignon with friends next weekend. I'm also making plans to visit places like Aix, Lyon, Cannes, and Paris. Even bigger goals are countries like Germany, Spain, England, and Morocco. Hey, I'm this close. It's possible.

But in the mean time, I'm looking for entertainment closer to home. I love movies, probably more than any person should love anything less than human. But I do, I love them. So this weekend has been like a dream come true. I got to go to the cinema with a friend on Friday night. We saw The Proposal dubbed over in French. Odd but fun. I missed hearing Sandra Bullock's humorous voice but it was interesting to see her speaking French for 2 hours. After we left the theater, I also saw a bunch of kids sitting on my car making out and smoking illegal substances, but that's more just a random occurance than entertainment. Actually, I was more annoyed and embarrassed than entertained.

Then yesterday (Saturday) I made it back from a jewelry/candy shopping excursion in Marseille just in time to see Le petit Nicholas with my host family. It was so cute! I loved seeing the France of the 50s (I think) and it was interesting to try to follow along since the whole thing is really French.

And today, after spending a few relaxing hours with my friends at a cafe, I'm probably going to get to see another film with Anne and her friend. Yay for cinema!

Alas, I'm sure no one is really very interested in my theater going experiences. So, as the shiny newness of my life here is wearing off, I will attempt to find something truly new and exciting to do every week, for my benefit and for yours. I wouldn't want my loyal readers to become bored now would I?