A Cultural Experience

     Before coming abroad, I expected to learn a lot about France and its culture, but who knew that I would learn so much about other cultures too?  At the university there are students from over 30 different countries.  Being in class with people from China, Korea, Japan, Brazil, Portugal, Iceland, Paraguay, Croatia, Spain, etc., it’s interesting to hear different viewpoints and talk with them about their country.  It was also cool to build a relationship with people based on the French language, as it wasn’t anyone’s mother tongue, but rather our lingua franca. It also meant no cheating and speaking English.

     In my business class, I was the only American student, with 95% of the class being from China.  I was the minority, which is not something I’m used to, but I loved it.  One of my Chinese friends invited me over to her apartment for lunch one day, and she and her friend cooked Chinese food for us. It was delicious and I even learned how to eat with chopsticks properly!

     One night, I went to a fundraiser for Cambodian children with my host mom and housemate.  It was run by a bunch of Cambodian families living in or near Angers.  Their accent while speaking French was a bit hard to understand, even for my host mom, but I was able to catch most of what they were saying.  We were served traditional Cambodian food that was prepared at home by all the families, and we watched different groups of children perform traditional dances.  

                                                                   My homemade Cambodian dinner

 

The best part was at the end anyone who wanted to could go up to the front and dance with the Cambodians. Normally this is something I would think was too humiliating to do, but seriously, when else in my life would I have the chance to dance Cambodian dances with Cambodian people? My host mom and I went up, and we basically just jumped in a group of maybe 15 or 20 Cambodians and tried to join in the dance by just imitating them.  For those of you how don’t know how Cambodians dance, it’s slow with mostly just hand movements. I learned two different dances, but for the other songs, we would just walk around in a circle doing these hand movements.  Yes, I felt silly. And yes, my housemate was laughing at me while trying to take photos or video. But it was a blast.  At one point, a Cambodian woman started dancing with me. Actually, at the time that's what I thought she was doing, but I was probably just doing the movements wrong and she was trying to show me how to do them correctly. Either way, it made my housemate laugh even more.  The video below shows one of the dances I tried to join in on (it was harder than it looks, trust me! haha)  It was overall a very fun and interesting night.

 

                                                                  A part of one of the dances we did

     I’m not only going to miss having my classes taught in French, but also being surrounded by people from around the world.  But I hope that when I return to my university in the States, I’ll be able to interact with the international students.  Now that I’ve experienced what it’s like to live abroad and be thrown into a foreign culture, I can sympathize with them.  

 

 

Christmas and New Year's, à la française

 First of all, sorry everybody for writing this a month late, but as the first semester just came to an end, I was overwhelmed with studying for finals and writing my memoir.  A few stressful nights and 20 pages later, my memoir is complete, turned in, and I have already received me grade (which I’m happy about!).  This week I have been on holiday, work free, so finally I have the chance to update you on my last holiday (Christmas and New Year’s).   Get ready.  Here it goes:

During the month of December, Angers was lit up with Christmas lights and Christmas music played as you walked down the street.  Most of the decorations were pink and gold, which are apparently their Christmas colors.  The center of town held a Christmas market with several red and blue shacks selling all sorts of things, including the best apple cider I’ve ever had (or as they call it here, “hot apple juice”).  We didn’t have a Christmas tree at home, but there was a huge decorated one in town.  One night a few friends and I spent the night in town wandering around, eating churros and pretzels, drinking hot cider or hot wine, watching a lady dance with giant Russian dolls, listening to guys play Christmas music with a horn and bells, observing the people on stilts all dressed in white, and finished the night by escaping the cold and eating a 10pm dinner in a cozy café. 

                                                                 Christmas Market in Angers

            December 21^st was the last day of classes before break, and that night I hopped on a train to Paris to spend two weeks with my friend Romain and his family.  Even though I had my memoir to write, which of course stressed me out, I was still able to have fun and visit places.  

We visited Château de Fontainebleau, which was the château of François I during the Renaissance when Italian artists came to France and influenced the French art of that period.  It was a neat experience to go to this château because I had studied it during the semester in my Art History class.  For me, art and architecture is always more fascinating when I know its history.

                                                           Château de Fontainebleau

One night we went to the Christmas market along the Champs-Élysées.  It was similar to the one in Angers, but of course a lot bigger! The whole street was lit up with Christmas lights…

                                              Champs-Élysées/Arc de Triomphe

 I also got to go to the Edward Hopper art exhibition, which was held in the Grand Palais in Paris.  It was interesting to see the works of an American painter, while in France – paintings that reflected my culture, American culture.  Another day, we went to the Salvador Dali exhibition at Centre Pompidou.  Unlike Hopper who was a realist painter, Dali was a surrealist.  Yes, his paintings are a bit bizarre, but I found them extremely fascinating.  No doubt, Dali was a crazy and egotistical man, yet a brilliant artist.  A different afternoon, Romain and I went to Musée Grévin, which is a wax museum.  They had movie stars, famous singers, cartoon characters, artists, history figures, and athletes.   We had a fun time taking pictures of each other imitating the poses or expressions of the people.  Next to some of the figures there were even accessories that you could put on to be more like that person; so of course we took advantage of that. It was pretty hilarious!

One night we went into Paris to see the Eiffel Tower lit up (something I’ve always wanted to see, but never have).  Every hour, it sparkles for five minutes.  Magical.  It was a rainy night, but I didn’t mind.  For those of you who have seen the film “Midnight in Paris,” Owen Wilson is right – Paris is beautiful in the rain, especially at night.  

                                                         Eiffel Tower sparkling

I thought it would be hard being away from home during Christmas and New Year’s, but actually, I think I was lucky to be able to experience these holidays in another culture.   On Christmas Eve, family came over to their house for a huge delicious dinner.   We spent the night playing video games, and at midnight we opened presents.  I guess that was the major difference – opening presents at midnight instead of Christmas morning, going to bed at 3am and sleeping in on Christmas, and not getting woken up early by my brother to go open our gifts.  ;)  Christmas day we went into Paris to see the display windows (Dior, Louis Vuitton).  

                                                             Display windows in Paris

New Year’s Eve, they had family and friends over for a party.  I again got to try a lot of new and delicious food.  We played video games, cards, and danced.   The biggest difference here was that there wasn’t really a countdown, and once the clock strikes midnight everyone goes around and kisses each other.  Later that night we had a dance competition – Girls vs. Boys vs. Dads.  Each group choreographed their own dance to their song of choice, and then once everyone was ready and had practiced enough, the performances began.   The moms were the judges who voted for the best group.   After the votes were tallied, the dads ended up winning.  I went to bed around 4am, content and ready for whatever this new year would have in store for me.

I had a great two weeks because it was like being home for the holidays, but without actually leaving France.  No, I can’t say that I spent two weeks traveling around Europe like some people did, but I can say that I got the opportunity to celebrate the holidays with French and participate in their traditions. On top of that, I got introduced to new TV series and got to learn some new games; I got to try foie gras, and got to hear pretty much every slang word that I had learned in my Français Familier class used in real conversation.  What more could I ask for? 

"Oh, you're not French?"

           One thing I have come to learn is that whenever I do laundry on Sunday by myself, something interesting always happens.  These days at the Laundromat are never boring.  One afternoon, as I was throwing my dirty laundry into the washer, the man next to me asked for help.  I guess the explanatory signs on the wall aren’t helpful enough.   Sometimes it makes me feel smart that me, a foreigner, has to explain in French to a French person how to use the machines.  I suppose my accent gave me away, because afterwards he asked, “Oh, you’re not French?” – Which is a question I get a lot after a stranger asks me for something.  We ended up talking until our laundry finished, which was a good opportunity for me to practice my French.  He wanted to practice his English too, so occasionally he would mix it up and throw out some English sentences.  He told me many interesting things about his family, his travels, and his job selling lamp parts.

            Next laundry day, a similar thing happened; except this time, I was never asked if I was a foreigner.  A lady walked into the Laundromat and wandered around looking confused, but didn’t even attempt to read the instructions on the wall.  Even when I keep to myself with my head in a book while waiting for my laundry, I apparently still look like the one to ask for help out of the ten other people there.  She walked up to me and asked if I could show her how to use the machines because she had never been there before.  However, because she had so much laundry, she had to use the large washer, which was different from the ones I was accustomed to using – Which means I was reading the directions and figuring it out as I was explaining it to her.  (Who’s the foreigner again?)  Then I had to show her how to buy soap from the machine, which I had never done before either.   By that point, I realized I wasn’t showing her anymore; I was practically doing her laundry for her.  She just gave me money to buy the soap, and then after I put the soap in the machine, she gave me more money to start the washer.   What makes this story more interesting is that, while she was watching me start her laundry, she had left her purse unattended and someone grabbed some cash from it and took off.  But not to worry, the thief didn’t get very far before the lady stopped her and took the money back.  What can I say? – Another eventful day at the Laundromat.

 

            The next time I went to do laundry, I was prepared to once again explain the machines to someone, but it ended up being just a boring laundry day.  Or so I thought.  As I was walking to the bus stop to go back home, two guys walking a ways ahead of me turned around and one of them yelled something.  I thought for sure it was directed at someone behind me, but I turned around to check and no one was there.  As I walked closer, I asked him to repeat what he had said.  It was some joke that I didn’t understand. I guess I should have laughed at it anyways to avoid that all too familiar question that came next: “Oh, you’re not French?”   Once I was given away as a foreigner, we talked for a few minutes and I answered all the usual questions:  Where are you from? How do you like France? Where do you live and go to school? Why did you choose to study French? etc.   Usually I’m more than happy to have these conversations, but this one caused me to miss my bus, on a Sunday when buses don’t run very often.   When they asked where I was going and I told them the bus stop, they insisted on accompanying me.  Once we got to the stop and saw that the next bus didn’t come for forty minutes, these 18 year old guys decided they needed to wait with me so I wouldn’t be left alone in the dark.  We talked about many things, and I took this opportunity to interview them for the memoir I had to write. Turned out to be, again, another interesting laundry day.

            When I talk to people, they don’t always say, “Oh, you’re not French?” but sometimes I know they’re thinking it - I can read it on their face; especially after I use a word in the incorrect context.  For example, when I was at the post office and tried to order 20 stamps, but asked for 20 “carnets” instead of 20 “timbres.”   I can only imagine what they were thinking when I requested 20 booklets of stamps.  Though instead of asking why I needed so many stamps, they just asked if I meant 20 “timbres.”  At the time, I didn’t know this word, but I said yes anyways.  I swear that I had learned “stamp” was “carnet” in French.  Oh well, at least I can now order individual stamps correctly.

               

                I learn something new every day in France.  Whether it’s a new French word, or the life story of a stranger I meet at the Laundromat.