Les aventures

Hey Everyone!

So I have officially been in classes for a week now. Well, kind of. The program from my university is a bit bizarre, because we are enrolled in the Department ofFrench as a Foreign Language(DeFLE) in the "Nancy 2 University", but we are not REALLY a part of that program, and we have a lot of other classes we are required to take as well. DeFLE has 9 levels, and I placed into group 8, which is the second highest. yes! That basically means that by the end of the semester, assuming I pass a big exam, I'll theoretically be qualified to enroll in "real" French university classes. In the meantime, however, I am also supposed to be auditing classes at "the fac" (aka real university classes).
This is where the "kind of going to school" part comes in; because the classes that we're auditing started a good 3 weeks ago, so we're kind of starting in the middle of everything. And oh yeah, everyone's still striking.
I mentioned in my last email how I was so taken aback by the big strike that happened all across France two weeks ago. From what I understand, most of France has gone back to normal", except the universities (well, to be fair, apparently striking is pretty normal here). A lot of teachers are still striking. But, this being France, not everyone is required to strike. Professors basically can just say that they are on strike when they want. And they do not have to warn anyone ahead of time, so often you will go to a class and wait around for 15 or so minutes before finally deciding that a teacher isn't going to show up. This is not fun at 8 in the morning.

Ok, enough with school. On to more interesting things! Last Sunday, I rode a bike for the first time in nearly 2 years! This was completely NOT by choice, but was a nice little contingency that my host dad threw at me, as he insisted upon riding bikes to the pool go to swimming. Technically, I'm not even supposed to be riding a bike in France. True story! Our school "strongly discourages" it because its so dangerous to ride on the same roads as French drivers (who are crazy by the way). There's even a waiver we're supposed to sign to ride bikes, but of course I hadn't signed it as I had no intention of going near one, that is until Jean-Marie (host dad) threw Nicole's (host-mom's) bike at me on Sunday morning. Except for the part where no-one in France wears helmets (what!?), it was actually pretty fun. The bike was nothing like the one's I've grown up on (ie my mother's super hardcore bikes), but is totally a city bike; it even had a little basket in front for my swim bag! I felt like Amelie riding around, and I couldn't stop grinning from the novelty of it.
And then we finally got to the pool! I figured out the secret of where the French go on Sundays! They go to the pool! (EVERYTHING in France is closed on Sundays). That was quite an experience in itself, because the whole thing was much more organized than any American pool I've ever been to. First of all, the entrance to the locker room has turnstiles (like a subway), that one must use a pass to get through. Then inside the (COED) locker room, there is one place to take off your shoes, and another to go change your clothes. There are specific little hangers you have to use for your clothes, and they go in ockers, WHICH ACTUALLY HAVE LOCKS. And the keys for the locks are on waterproof key chains which everyone wears around their wrists in the water. And EVERYONE is required to wear a swim cap, including balding old men. Not to mention all the men wear speedos, something that not even the guys on my swim team in high school did.