Getting around in a city that's sopping wet and rainy is always an adventure. And just when you make up your mind to wait the extra ten minutes for the RER rather than walk several blocks, the rains stops. What I got out of the trek, other than soaked, was my new textbook, an anthology of French literature (in French). We need it tomorrow for class.
Today was all French class. First cours practique, in which we worked with obscure subjonctif rules, and then phonetique, in which we attempted to enunciate the tricky phrases "J'ai un . . ."/"J'ai eu un . . . "/"J'ai une . . ."/"J'ai eu une . . ." It's hard to explain without sound because basically those words all get mushed together so it comes out sounding like "J-aye-uuuue". Or how about the phrase "Il va à Amiens"? Pronouced "Eel vaaaaah-Mien". Unlike English, the French don't separate their words when speaking. We take nice little pauses or halts in breath between words so you know what each word is and in French that's not allowed. Every word is connected to the ones on either side of it, so it comes out a jumble of sound and it's up to you to differentiate words. That leads to changing the pitch when two words next to each other have the same sound, like "eu" and "une", so you have to go either up or down in pitch when transitioning from "J'ai eu (down pitch) une". The up or down depends on where in the phrase the sound falls. It's all very complicated, which is probably why we have a whole separate class for it.
After several hours straight of no food, I gave in and bought a crêpe. With sugar and cinnamon and butter. Heavenly. All I needed was some skim milk, which they don't have here, and it makes me sad. I realized I haven't had milk since I left home in early September and my poor bones are suffering. Which is a nice segue into my next comment: pharmacies here are very odd. I bought vitamin C today, and to get something as simple as that, you have to ask the pharmacist to get it for you because it's behind the counter. OTC doesn't exist across the pond. What is on the other side of the counter is an array of beauty products and moisturizers and toothpaste and creams supposedly for the health of your skin. To even buy Advil, you have to ask the pharmacist, and that's just bizarre. C'est zarbi. Talk about pharmacists working hard. Maybe they don't stand for twelve hours (though I didn't see a seat anywhere inside there), but they have to hold your hand through every type of medication you use, apparently. I miss Target.
But on the other hand, I stopped in a little grocery store on my way home to pick up a can of microwaveable ravioli (even their microwave stuff is excellent—how is our food not this good? Why, and can Obama fix it?) for dinner. I needed a new bottle of water too, and while over by the drinks, I thought, hell, why not? And bought a Heineken. It'll help me sleep and it's cheaper than coke. And I can buy it here.
But weirder than that? When I move back home at the end of the year (first of June), I'll be able to do the same over yonder. When did I get this old and why don't I remember it?
Well, and so. That's what most people say about growing up.
One thing I've taken notice of, in my attempts to catalogue the differences between here and there, is in the classroom. Besides the obvious "Hello, I'm speaking French", there really isn't much to distinguish between an American class and a French one. Until you look in the corner. It's something I'm sure most college students in America are familiar with: there always seems to be a shortage of either markers or chalk (depending on the board). Teachers obviously share classes, and some of them are smart enough to carry their own personal box of chalk incase the classroom has only crumbs or dried up markers to write with. Not in France (or at least not at the Sorbonne). Each classroom, in a corner off to the side of the board, has a small table with tubs of both white sticks and color sticks of chalk (I've yet to see a dry-erase board). Genius. Professors don't have to waste time looking around frantically for where in their bag they stuffed their box of chalk, only to find it and discover it's empty—thus rendering him or her incapable of imparting their hard-earned knowledge.
It's the simple things in life I appreciate. Like good ravioli and beer for dinner. A hot shower everyday. Free internet. Chalk in the classroom. Books in English. Crêpes with sugar and cinnamon. Being able to watch TV shows online for free whenever I want. A nice notebook and pens. Socks. Advil.
Thanks to the dreary weather, I'm staying inside for the evening and catching up not only on sleep but on homework. Unfortunately, I think the weather is also causing me a nice ol' headache. That's why I added Advil to my list. Can't live without it.
That's all for today, folks.
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