School?

Four months later, and I still don't understand the university system in France. I've got the basics down the "fac"s (normal universities, practically free, universal admittance) and the "grands-ecoles" (elite, specialized schools, Science-Po is also included in this, kind of).
But I still don't quite understand how the greve/blockage was able to last nearly the entire semester. It wasn't all universities, in Nancy it was just the fac de lettres (humanities campus). None the less, it lasted the entire semester, finally neccistating an administrative closure of the school. That was supposed to last all the way until september, with the students losing their semester, but suddenly the fac re-opened this week. The semester is now extended until the end of June so that the students don't lose their semester.
I don't quite understand how a minority of students could completely shut down the university like this, but the authorities could never send in police force against the students, because it would then become an increased problem of students against "the man".
The real problem lays in the nature of the university. While sky-rocketing university prices in the states are completely ridiculous, I think free university in France causes an equally large problem. Without threat of financial pain, there's little incentive to succeed in university. I learned today that 40% of university students (that is the public universities, not the grands-ecoles) fail and have to repeat their first year. There are numerous students who fail but stay in school because its a (relatively) easy lifestyle. My host sister is a perfect example of this. She was 15 days away from quitting a degree when she quit the program and started another. She's now finished, but has decided that she wants to stay in school for another year, just because she doesn't want to get a job. (well, that's the way my host mom tells it anyway). All in all, the French academic system is one that allows top students to succeed, but leaves less motivated/talented students treading water. This is one of the main reasons that students put up with semester long greves. In the states where university can cost up to 30,000-50,000 a year, students feel the push to get through their studies quickly and put some effort into it.

Did you know I used to figure skate?

One of the more disconcerting aspects of getting older is turning around and looking back on things you’ve done. So many things that once seemed of the utmost importance, things your life centered around, are suddenly vague memories. Even stranger? Sometimes when I remember the things that once defined me; I almost can’t believe that I used to be that person. It all just seems so distant from where I am now. I was looking through SYA pictures the other day, and the Italian used to completely define me. Roman history is probably the closest thing I’ve ever had to a religion. Now when I try to speak Italian, it all comes out in French, and I barely remember being that person.

Allemagne

When I was thirteen, my mother planned a vacation to Germany to visit my Aunt Ruth, but I refused to go because I thought I hated Germany after getting in a big fight with a German boy when our family friends visited us in the States. Now, 8ish years later, I finally made my first trip to Germany, and my Aunt Ruth took me to all the same sites that the rest of my family has already seen and visited. And of course I fell in love with it. Not just because it was so much fun to see my Aunt (who’s not technically my Aunt, but a really old family friend to lived with my grandparents when she studied in the states in highschool – yay exchange students!), but also because Germany is AMAZING. It’s kind of funny, because it makes me wonder how different my life might have been if I had just gone on that one family vacation back in middle school – what if I had chosen to study German, and had never gone to Italy or all the subsequent decisions that all stemmed from that year? It’s kind of a head trip.

The funniest thing about Germany was the food. (Really, food seems to be the only thing American’s abroad ever talk about!) As I was leaving for the weekend, my French host family made a comment about I was going to eat such “strong” German food – you know, the ideas of sauerkraut and mustard and sausages and all that. The first thing we did when I got off the train in Mainz was go out to eat…. At an Italian place. Except for some amazing Reisling wine and some white asparagus, I hardly ate any traditionally German food in Germany. Luckily, the Germans have embraced (what I consider) “normal food” – they even had salsa at the grocery store! It’s funny, because there is a lot of “German” food in Lorraine and Alsace because we have such a long history with Germany – here we put mustard on our white asparagus, and serve sauerkraut with our meat.

Oh yeah, the French /German history. Lorraine and Alsace have both been part of Germany; I think they’ve changed hands something like five times in the last 200 years. And Mainz, where my Aunt lives, has also been occupied by France at various points in history. There’s even this statue we saw by the Rhine, that’s up on a hill shaking her fist in defiance in the direction of France. (Apparently, this was the German version of the Statue of Liberty, but it is of course considered very politically incorrect now. But still cool to see).

With such a long history of animosity, I have been really surprised to discover how strong relations are between the two countries are currently. Nancy has the Franco-Allemande campus of one of France’s prestigious universities – ie all the classes at this school are taught in French and German, and all students are fluent in both languages, as well as half of the students are from Germany, and the French students are required to study abroad in Germany in their 3rd year. We don’t even have that good of a rapport with Canada, and we’ve never been to war against them! (wait, have we?). My Aunt (who knows EVERYTHING), explained that this was a conscious effort after by the powers that be after WWII, and that the Marshall plan was also integral in all of this because it forced all of the states to cooperate if they wanted aide. Plus, it helped that they had communism to all unite against.

Aunt Ruth and I in Heidelberg

The Sun Also Rises

I know... the title's corny. But its kind of my favorite book, and really, what better sums up a spring break that included watching bullfights in the south, and drinking in Paris?

Let me back up a bit.
I spent the last two weeks backpacking around Northern Italy, Southern France, Paris, and Geneva(Switzerland). I traveled alone, which wasn't as scary or pathetic as it seems (I always feel the need to explain my decision to travel alone, but it was actually a lot of fun - I recommend you try it at some point in your life). I adore backpacker culture, but I always feel like a bit of a fraud when I show up in a hostel with my backpack; I've never done a really long term trip, and I always meet people doing their grand tour of 6 months to a year. Anyway.

Cinque Terre in Northern Italy was the first stop on my trip. It was absolutely amazing, and all I could think about the entire time was "how have I never been here before" (you know... that whole thing where I lived in Italy for a year). It had everything I could ever want in life; hiking trails, good food, chill people, ocean to swim in, and Italian to be bad at (once again... that thing where I lived in Italy for a year - too bad when I try to speak Italian it all comes out in French now.)
(this is me watching the sunset in Cinque Terre with a couple of Aussies)


I then headed back up the coast to Nice and Monaco. The coastline is beautiful, but Nice is kind of dirty, and I'm just way to poor to ever spend more than an afternoon in Monaco. Monaco is technically a sovereign state, despite being only about 1 square mile large (the second smallest principality in the world after Vatican City). The roads are so sharp and twisty: I can't imagine how that racing grand prix takes place there. I did play /waste 5 euro on my first ever slot machine in the Monte Carlo casino in Monaco, which I'm sure my father's-las vegas-loving-side of the family would be proud of.
(This is Monaco being super glamorous)


Next I headed west to Provence, to Arles and Avignon. Avignon is a beautiful little city, with a Palais des Papes which kicks Viterbo's Palazzo Papale's ass. (Both cities were temporary residence's of the Pope during unrest in Rome back in the day). The real highlight of Provence was Arles. It has a bunch of Roman ruins and Van Gogh painted over 200 canvases there, which would be enough to merit a visit anyway. But when I arrived, I discovered that it was the beginning of the Feria de Paques (Easter Festival), and the whole town was alive with the bullfighting spirit. I went to several events, most of which involved teenage boys proving their manliness by running around with bulls, but the real event was definitely the Corrida. The Corrida consisted of 2 bullfighters who each killed 3 bulls over the course of the evening. Its a really powerful thing to watch, and I was completely captivated by the elegance of it. Its hard to justify it against the cruelty of the fate of the bulls, but the entire spectacle is equally mesmerizing as it is horrible to watch. I kind of loved it. (Even though the Frenchies next to me were worried I was going to throw up at one point).
(this is some bad ass bullfighting in Arles)


In Paris I met up with my program and ran wild with my American friends. It felt a bit bratty to be running around speaking English with such a large group, even as we sneered at other tourists for being "SO American". Oh well, I guess that's why I live in Nancy, not Paris.
(I don't think this one needs an explanation)


I spent the last part of break in Geneva Switzerland. Geneva is pretty much my ideal city. Its home to over 200 international organizations and NGOS, and I got to tour the United Nations and the red cross museum. The city is really friendly and small, and right on lake Geneva. I spent a good deal of time just sitting by the water and biking along the shore. I don't know if my love for lakes is nature (their effing pretty!) or nurture (I'm a summer camp kid - most of the best times of my life have taken place by the water) but I love lakes. Not to mention all of the amazing food and CHOCOLATE everywhere. And there was even a Starbucks as a guilty pleasure American indulgence (god I miss double tall cappuccinos).
(this is why I love Geneva)


Now its back to real life in Nancy! It feels good to be home and see my host family. I like being back in my own bed and remembering how much more French I still have to learn while trying to follow along at dinner.
I still have classes until the beginning of June, and then I'm moving to Strasbourg for the summer to do an internship. woohoo!

Verdun in Pictures

I'm not sure why, but I've been really bad at facebooking all my photos. But I have been. And I have some sweet pictures from this weekend that need internet recognition. So...
This weekend the LC kids from Nancy and Strasbourg went to Verdun. It was one of the biggest battle sites of WWI, and thus incredibly depressing. (The battle had an incredibly high death toll [nearly a quarter of a million deaths] before the French eventually lost to the Germans).

This is the inside of the fortress. Could you imagine living here for all those months?


This is a memorial inside the fortress:


This is Evan looking incredibly French. and angry. and French.


This is us adventuring:


This is the view overlooking the town of Verdun, as seen from the (ironically situated?) World Center of Peace, which we randomly found. Obviously, good things come from hiking any and all hills one can find.

Expats and Identity

On Being An American:
There's a quote by Bob Shacochis that sums up pretty much everything I want to say here. (Really, I'm not very eloquent). It's called "Become an Expat" - and I'm extracting the most relevant parts - but if you want to hear a snobbish rant on why living abroad in Western Europe isn't hardcore enough, feel free to google the entire quote for yourself.


"Sink into an otherness that reflects a reverse image of yourself, wherein lies your identity, or lack of one. Teach English in Japan, aquaculture in the South Pacific, accounting in Brazil. Join the Peace Corps, work in the oil fields of Saudi Arabia, set up a fishing camp on the beach of Uruguay, become a foreign correspondent, study architecture in Istanbul, sell cigarettes in China.
...
You’ll learn to engage the world, not fear it, or at least not to be paralyzed by your fear of it. You’ll find out, to your surprise, how American you are — 100-percent, and you can never be anything but — and that is worth knowing. You’ll discover that going native is self-deluding, a type of perversion. Whatever gender or race you are, you’ll find out how much you are eternally hated and conditionally loved and thoroughly envied, based on the evidence of your passport."

I never feel more American than when I am abroad, and I never really knew being American actually meant until I left. It's kind of like when I moved to Oregon, and I realized how ridiculously New England I am. I'll get around to recording observations / actually writing something interesting one of these days.



On Expatriating:

When I was in Italy, we were all very caught up in the idea of our ex-patriot identity, and our all around badass-ness. This might be because we were reading too much Hemingway (but really, can you ever read too much Hemingway?) - or, more likely, it probably had something to do with the fact that we were cocky 16 year olds.

I've noticed though, that none of the Americans that I know here in France seem to think of themselves as ex-pats, or at least none of them are so pretentious as to talk about it. More fundamentally however, I think its because most of them seem to think of studying abroad as a "trip", a "short" term adventure that they'll come back from with stories of drinking and fumbling around with the language, rather than a real living and immersion experience. I think the word "trip" embodies a fundamental underlying attitude attitude, one that SYA trained me to avoid at all costs. That being said, in reality I'm just as much of a non-permanent American as everyone else I know here, but I'm working on it.



Up next... French Identity.

Greve-ing

Greve is the French word for "strike". And striking (or "greving" in Franglais) is certainly something that the French know how to do well.

AND I AM SICK OF IT!

My first or second week here, there was a huge greve in town, with something like 30,000 people out on the streets of our fairly small city - and proportionate turnout throughout the rest of France. Me, in my naivete thought it was so exceptional and exciting.

It's not exceptional. And its not exciting.
In fact, the French greve all the time, and over pretty much anything. There's another big greve this Thursday. But don't go thinking that the French actually went two months in between greves. No.

The university has been intermittently greving pretty much all semester. This means that sometimes you will show up to class to find that the teacher isn't coming in that day, because they are "on strike". There doesn't seem to be any sort of consistent pattern or reasoning to who strikes or when, and professors can pretty much strike whenever they want to. And if/when there is a formal greve organized by a union - members or that union are not required to strike. They are perfectly capable to going to work that day without being considered to have "crossed the picket line". I don't know how this is supposed to accomplish anything - but that doesn't seem to bother the French.

There are students who greve too. Especially at the university. Two weeks ago they took to the streets and marched in the middle of the afternoon - trouble was everyone else was at work/school, so I don't know exactly who they were demonstrating FOR. Last week they took the chairs out of the classrooms and stacked them all over campus, and in the middle of a rotary down the street. And today? ALL THE DOORS to the academic buildings were locked. NO ONE had classes.
Well, no one except for us lucky DeFLE students (French as a second language). Apparently the DeFLE is under a different statute - so (un)fortunately the teachers aren't allowed to strike. Today was interesting though, because one of my DeFLE classes takes place in the university proper (which was locked) - so we had to hold class in the DeFLE teacher's lounge.
Interestingly, the other university in Nancy (Science Po), is like the DeFLE, in that it is not allowed to strike either. This is because it is technically considered a grand-ecole (elite but accessible university system established by Napoleon in an attempt to abolish aristocratic privilege after the revolution) - and therefore under a different statute/set of laws as well. Cohesive, right?

As a side note, the French still love Napoleon. Jokes about a “small man complex” aside, he is revered for the systems he imposed after the revolution, and helping to re-unite the French public. They still can’t understand why those damn English wanted to go and stop him.

Oh France.



EDIT: I just re-read this post and it sounds really pissed off. It's not supposed to be. More like, "humorously annoyed while giving a fairly accurate picture of French universities?" - but I'm not sure I'm that eloquent

- also I feel the need to brag that I'm finally (kind of) getting my life together, and will hopefully write a bragging post soon if/when things are finalized.