A Thief

Sunday started out as a great day. I've been desperate to see the movie Nine since whenever I first heard about it forever ago and Sunday I was finally going to see it. I should have known. 9 has always been my unlucky number.

Hannah and I parked at the Aubagne train station at 11:30. We caught the train to Marseille and had loads of time to waste before the movie started at 2. We spent 2 hours wandering back streets of the city that were obviously quite far from the tourist track.

The most disturbing sight was this huge flea market type thing that looked like it was from the slums of a third world country. It was a shock to see so close to the Vieux Port.

We also explored the Cathedral of the Majeure. It's actually closed to tourists Sundays but we snuck in anyway. It was creepy in the dark, especially with the sounds of this little kid's voice coming out of the shadows. It ends up we weren't the only tourists that day but my first thought was definitely ghost.

Anyway, we walked until we were almost late for the movie, and because of my inappropriate boots, my feet screamed at me for it for at least the next three days.

Nine was great. What a cast! The only character I despised was the man. What a jerk.

Then we caught the train home, arriving in Aubagne at 5:30. We got in the car. Hannah looked for her backpack. It was gone. I thought she was joking. I didn't even know she had her backpack with her. But no, it was definitely gone. And at second glance, my front passenger door was also bent in half. Oooh crap.

So, seeing nothing like this has ever happened to me before, what with the biggest crime near my house being cow-tipping, I had no idea what to do. We drove to my house and let the family know. You have no idea how I was dreading that moment.

Later we got the door taped up and I took Hannah home. Then I picked Camilla up from the train station for our already scheduled homework time. Instead of homework, we ended up translating the items stolen into French and figuring out how the heck to say "Someone broke the car and stole stuff" in French. I was freaking out a bit so she offered to come with me to the police station in the morning.

Then I took her to the train station. Her train had been cancelled. So, I drove her back to Cassis. It was my first time driving there and after that day, it was just one more thing. I panicked about getting lost but it all went well. I got home and called to let her know I was ok. Then my phone ran out of money. What a perfect ending.

Next morning: After barely sleeping all night, I managed to get to the police station even a little before it opened at 8. Too bad they were all more intested in their coffee and gossip than me so Camilla and I had to wait until about 8:30 before anyone said more than good morning.

We made the declaration and the policeman seemed to be enjoying trying to understand what we were saying. I'm so glad we made his morning so entertaining. In the meantime, we were checking our watches hoping desperately to manage to make it to school sometime, even if it was a bit late.

Miraculously, we finished there, took the paperwork home, got back to the parking garage (not the train station parking!), and ran all the way to the train station. We made it just in time for the 9:08 train, getting us to school at 9:45. I felt like we had salvaged the day.

At 3, I got back to Aubagne and the only thoughts in my head were lunch and a nap. Instead, I had a phone call that I had to take the car to the garage immediately. Oh. So after getting a pain au chocolat and barely scraping up the 6 euros change for the parking, I set off to find the garage.

Getting there was easy. Finding it, not so much. I drove back and forth on that stupid road for at least 15 minutes, with people honking at me and zooming around. Finally I gave up, parked, and walked to the nearest place to ask directions. Interestingly, that was where I was supposed to be.

The woman at the desk was excited. A jeune fille au pair! She had all sorts of questions. Apparently she was thinking about getting her very own au pair. I gave her the website I used and she started looking people up while I was there. I was informed that she wanted a British girl "because your accent is too hard." Oh, I'm so sorry my accent is bothering you.

Then she needed the registration card for the car. It was the second time that day someone had been mad at me for not having it. I was about to fall apart. I called the family. It seemed no one even knew where it was. Great. So she sent me home.

I got the kids and the rest of the day went. When I finally went back to my room to sleep, I found that an apple sauce had burst open in my purse. There may or may not have been some tears as I washed it out.

So the moral of this story is, I hate people who take stuff that don't belong to them. Oh, and this is probably a really bad time to run out of anti-stress stomach medication.

Carcassonne and Albi: A Trip Back in Time

This week I went on a vacation into the past. First stop was Carcassonne, home of the biggest medieval fortress in Europe. Some of you may recognize the name from the game based on the city. I've never played it but I've heard it's cool. Also, some movies were partially filmed here like Timeline and Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves. Next was Albi, which houses the largest brick building in the world and the Toulouse-Lautrec Museum. Since these are such visually interesting places, I'll mostly let the pictures speak for themselves.

Here I am getting ready to enter the medieval city of Carcassonne. I'm so excited!!

This was taken outside the walls of the city. I got to walk all the way around on the ramparts. It was so cool and the view was fantastic.

This is inside the castle. There in the background is where soldiers used to shoot arrows down at the enemies outside the gates. As I was informed by the obnoxious audio guide voice, they only shot arrows, they never poured boiling oil onto their enemies like people like to think. That would be too expensive.

And here we have the beautiful Basilica of Saint-Nazaire.

This is the hostel I stayed in. That was an interesting experience. Not as bad as I thought but still weird. The first night I had the room to myself. The second I had 2 American girls and a Chinese girl. It ended up being pretty fun because we chatted about our various travels and our lives here.

The shower was the worst thing about the hostel. You know those sinks in public places that you push the thing and water runs for about 2 seconds? That's not even enough time to wash your hands. Now imagine a shower that works the same way. And imagine that you didn't know you have to bring your own towels and that your room is all the way down the hall. Ew.

This is cassoulet, the famous dish of the region. It seems to consist of duck, sausage, and white beans. It was good but I could only eat half, partially because it was so heavy and partially because I had already scalded off half my tastebuds on the French onion soup right before.

And here we are in Albi. You can see the Cathedrale Sainte Cecile towering over the old part of the city. It's this cathedral that is the biggest brick building in the world. Isn't it fantastic!

Really, it's impossible to really describe how huge this thing is.

This is the inside. So ostentatious but beautiful.

And finally we have the building that houses the Toulouse-Lautrec Museum. Albi was his birthplace and this palace (Palais de la Berbie) holds the largest collection of his works, including his posters and even doodles in his Latin book from when he was young. It was a really awesome museum. Probably my favorite ever. He was really, really talented.

So in the end, it was a fantastic trip into medieval times and the world of Toulouse-Lautrec. But, as much fun as I had, after spending 11 hours on trains over the three days, it was definitely a relief to see the familiar skyline of Marseille coming closer.

Bizarre Occurences

This is just a list of the bizarre things that happened to me yesterday:

One- I was on the train from Carcassonne to Marseille when a quite smelly man with a dog stopped by my seat asking for money. As I am basically broke, I said no. He moved on. Then he spotted my cookies in a ziplock bag I had brought along for a snack. He got excited. He asked if I was planning to throw it away even as he reached for it. I said there was one left and he could have it if he wanted. So he took the bag and proceeded to dump all of its crumbly contents onto the seat across from me. He tried to feed half a cookie to the dog who didn't want it. Then he left with only the ziplock bag. Bizarre. And embarrassing as I now had a cookie's worth of chocolate crumbs completely covering the seat across from me.

Two- I was riding the escalator in the metro in Marseille last night heading out to eat dinner (at a really fantastic Chinese restaurant by the way. It was kind of nostalgic since it seems that all Chinese restaurants smell the same and therefore I remembered Red Palace and eating there with my family, etc... I ate duck. It was good. Back to the point.) I came across another smelly man. This one was right behind me on the escalator and he was talking to himself. He felt really quite close and I was getting uncomfortable. I was ready to wallop him if he tried anything. And then he touched my hair. I pretended it didn't happen and then booked it off the escalator once we reached the top. I was later informed that he also appeared to be smelling my hair. I think the best I can do in this situation is take it as a compliment. Even though it was freaky, and bizarre.

Three- Then, minutes later, we ran into three American guys who were visiting Marseille. They were excited to run across people speaking English. They stopped us to chat. Now, I'm not going to lie, when I first saw them, just glancing in passing, I was pretty sure they were mentally incompetent and I was looking around to see if they had someone nearby who was helping them. This turned out not to be the case, they were just typical Americans walking around with stupid looks on their faces. It's amazing how easy it is to pick out an American by their glazed, stupified expressions. Really it's embarrassing. Anyway, they wanted to hang out with us and we brushed it off politely. We said we had to hurry and eat so we could catch the last train back home (although in the end our train had been cancelled and we had to run frantically to catch a bus.) They "generously" offered to let us stay and party at their hotel. "We have like, a huge room." "Yeah man, like, eight beds or somethin'." I wish we'd had a picture of our faces at that moment. Really? That's the best you've got? Idiotic and bizarre.

Four- Then we watched rugby in an Irish pub. I found I actually kind of like rugby. And not just because many of the players are incredibly good looking. It's like football but without the wussy pads and helmets. I mean, they really tackle each other and it's pretty funny. So yeah, interesting and bizarre.

Five- A French man told me I looked French. I said thank you. He said it wasn't a compliment. Oh. Maybe I'll just pass that one off as a communication error because in all other ways he was quite kind. So that was kind of bizarre.

Six- I saw a LOT of really, really nice looking men. Nice and bizarre.

Chapter 2 of "The French Immigration Office is Stupid"

If you recall, last Monday I was forced to strip down and be x-rayed at the immigration office only to later be accused of negligence and told to come back another day with the appropriate paperwork. Well today I went back. It was even more disasterous than the first visit.

Before this little rendezvous, I had to collect a letter from the host family saying I live with them, a copy of their identification, proof that they live here, one photo of me, and a tax stamp that is, in my opinion, exceptionally overpriced. The family held up their end and I got all of their paperwork a few days ago.

Today, for my part, I had to search out a tabacco shop where I could buy the tax stamp. Fortunately I found one on my way to the pharmacy and doled out the money.

Next was the picture. I ended up paying 9 euros for a stupid little picture. The Monoprix tricked me into buying 16 tiny ones that are completely useless. So I had to find another photo booth in the train station and try again. Sadly, I was much worse looking in the second set of pictures on account of it having rained on my freshly blowdried hair and by that point my expression was set to one of extreme annoyance.

So, I finally had all my paperwork. I set off for the OFII office planning to be out in half an hour and then I'd treat myself to hot chocolate in some nice cafe. This was 2:00. At 3:45 I asked the women at the counter if they'd forgotten me. At 4:00 it looked like the rude lady from last time (who was in a slightly better mood today) was going to help me. She went to get my file. By 4:30 I was informed that they seemed to have lost my dossier and I was asked to write down my phone number so they could call me when it was found. Just perfect. I'm so glad I waited two and a half hours in your waiting room so you could tell me you lost my file.

I went to my favorite cafe (pictured above) and got myself a chocolat chaud anyway. And a pain au chocolat. By that point I figured I deserved it. It had been horrendous. I had just listened to people jabbering with their friends in a bizillion different languages (at one point the two girls on either side of me were having a conversation with each other and I have never felt more invisible in my life) while I played solitaire on my iPod. For two and a half hours. With no positive outcome.

No wonder when I went to the doctor yesterday for my random intense stomach pains he diagnosed it as stress. Apparently this country is so stressful that it has made me ill. That's just great.

My Lungs: A Story of Partial Nudity

If you are reading this blog, then you have also just had a good look at my innards. Yes, these are my lungs, and whatever that blobby thing there in the bottom right hand corner is. Also these are my ribs and my collar bones, which I think is awesome. I've always wanted x-ray vision. If it came down to it, I'd rather fly but yeah, if my superpower was x-ray vision, I'd take it.

I happened upon this lovely scan by means of being summoned to the immigration office for a medical exam to make sure I was carrying nothing contagious which I could transfer to France's inhabitants and therefore destroy their quality of life and maybe even bring to ruin their entire country. Mostly they were just checking for tuberculosis.

So I got there. I got lost and ended up getting a lot of exercise but I got there. You know, some parts of Marseille are just not places I ever want to walk through again. Also, don't trust Google Maps. If I'm learning anything from being in a foreign country, it's that you should never trust Google Maps.

Once there, I simply had to wait for my turn to get an x-ray, get weighed and questioned, and finally be told that I was fine and that I had passed. Yay me! In fact, I feel like I got bonus points because the doctor told me I should keep my scans because they looked really good. I'm thinking I might frame them. They are kind of awesome.

There were only two unpleasant occurrences besides the getting lost. The first: I had to get half naked. It was awkward. The x-ray guy just told me to pretend I was on the beach. Um, dude, I don't go topless on the beach even in France thanks! Then he thought he was clever to make some joke about it being too cold for the beach. Ha. Ha. But it really wasn't too bad. It's not like he doesn't see that every five minutes of every day. It's his job. I bet he really likes his job. That makes me laugh.

Second: The horrible woman at the front desk called me a liar. Well, basically. That's what she meant. She asked me to give her a stamp and a picture and some other paperwork. I didn't understand. I thought maybe I just didn't understand her French although I understood the words she was saying. What is she talking about, papers and stamps? So she looked exasperated and called over some girl who spoke English. That didn't help.

Apparently I supposedly got a third piece of paper in the envelope with the summons and it listed all the other stuff I needed to bring. I swear to you I have never seen that paper in my whole life. And I keep all my mail so it's not like I threw it away by accident. Well, she was mad when I said I hadn't received it. She said, jerkishly, "You did receive it, you just didn't hold on to it." In French.

I was mad but what could I do? So I looked apologetic and she wrote me a list of stuff to bring back. Ergh. I can't read her handwriting so this will take some work. Plus she's a jerk. I know darn well I only had two pieces of paper in that envelope. They've been sitting on my desk since I got them three weeks ago. Jerk.

So that is the story of my being half nude and falsely accused. Put that way it sounds like I had a much more exciting day than I really did.

Eggs

I am proud of myself. I have become quite an experienced cook.

I've now moved on from simple scrambled eggs. Ha, scrambled eggs are for babies. In my newly evolved state, I can now make fried eggs with only partially damaged yolks, and yes, today I even managed my first, brutally mangled ham and cheese omlette.

I am brilliant.

Honestly though, if I had a spatula bigger than an inch wide to work with, I think my results might be a little prettier, but maybe I'm just making excuses.

P.S. I'm not completely hopeless. I also make stellar pasta and my hamburgers and fish steaks aren't too shabby either. It's going to be tough when I get home and only know how to cook using the metric system.

Goodness

You know those occasional days you have where (almost) no matter what happens, you're still in a good mood? Today was that day for me.

I think it may have something to do with the fact that I used my time between school and work productively, like by practicing violin and putting away laundry instead of napping like usual.

I am unfailingly grouchy after sleep. It's just so hard to leave that happy dreamland where everything is as I want it and anxiety free. You know? But I digress...a lot.

Anyway, school was awesome, as usual. Don't even know why I bother putting that in anymore. Has there ever been a day when it wasn't awesome? No. It is my lifeline and I adore it. I'm such a nerd.

Then I got home and, as I said, I was productive. One big story of the day is the fact that our hot water is broken. That means no showers and no heat for the radiators. That also means that my semi-attic room is an icebox, along with the rest of the upstairs. So anyway, I tried to practice violin since I was feeling musical and so on. My fingers really wouldn't move. It was pretty disappointing. It was like trying to play with fingers splinted to popsicles. Not effective.

Then I got the kids. They were fantastic. All day. Miraculous day! We played piano for a long time, we sang, we read books, and we made cute little videos where Paul interviewed me and Marie.

He taught me how to play his new piano music and how to sing it. He's doing a great job with piano and he's really a superb little teacher. I'm not just saying that either. He really knew what he was doing and he really did teach me something I couldn't before do. I was totally impressed. The kid is only six years old.

Then Marie helped me make dinner. She set the table and even helped me stir the ravioli. And she wanted to smell everything.

While we were waiting for the pasta to boil, she and I had a little Cinderella dance in the middle of the kitchen. We waltzed for a while (I wasn't allowed to hum though)and then we spun around and around till we almost fell over. Well, she did fall over but it was ok.

So in the end, they both got full marks on their new points system I made. It's proving most effective and I'm soooo glad.

And finally, in reference to the picture above, the pool froze over. It is awesome. You have no idea how badly I wanted to try to walk on it. But I didn't because I didn't want to be a bad example and I didn't want to fall through and die. But we still had fun. It was like the ultimate skipping stones situation, but instead, we were slinging huge ice chunks and watching them explode and slide across the surface in a million pieces. Magical!

Oh yeah, and when Marie discovered my makeup on my desk, she had to play. She was cute in pink lipgloss but the best moment was when she tried to brush her hair with my eyebrow/eyelash brush thing. Priceless.