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I still don’t really know what I’m thinking. I wish I’d written more in the first couple of days. The ideas and inferences and meanings seemed to only come when everything was new and exciting. Now it is just becoming the way it is, and I don’t know what to do about it. Maybe it’s just that MY existence is routine. I think I’m going to start buying newspapers and cutting out interesting articles to save. Perhaps by immersing myself in the news - the goings-on that capture the attention of the French people (and hence sell papers) will provide me with new material to work from.

blahblahblah

[Jan. 30th, 2006|02:27 pm]

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I’m not really certain what to write about this evening. I had some ideas yesterday, such as the concert that I went to, but I wasn’t really motivated to put anything down, which makes me sad. I was just thinking about how happy I was that I’d discovered my love of writing, but apparently that was just a passing phase. I fear that my lack of motivation to write will become a cessation of journaling. This makes me think of one of the big questions that is a barrier in my life. Although then I try and put that question to paper succinctly, and I fail. It has to do with my inability to focus on anything for a long period of time without becoming bored. It has to do with my depression. It has to do with my fear of becoming a real adult, of committing to do something with my life. I find something that I love, and then I don’t love it any more.

Headache Party

[Jan. 29th, 2006|02:26 pm]

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Don’t have a lot to say today. I think Philo and Mick fought some last night, but I was able to remain somewhat blissfully ignorant to it. I played stupid exchange student who didn’t know what was going on and then went into my room and played games and listened to music.

Because of the snow the concert was cancelled, so we went to a soiree at Annie and Gerard’s house. They are very nice, but it was super hard for me. I was following along somewhat well, but I could not switch my brain to talking mode at all, so I was vaguely socially retarded (or extremely). But I realized that’s sort of my par for the course in general. Why should I expect myself to join conversation in a room full of strangers who are all speaking French when I can’t do so in English.

Still, I feel like I might have been an embarrassment for Mick, less for Philo. I get the feeling that social status stuff is just as quietly intense here as it is in the United States. I sense that Gerard and Annie have more money than Mick and Philo, and that matters to Mick, less so to Philo. Is this the source of her drive to have a very chic house? The sense I got was that having a smart, articulate exchange student living with her would raise her status considerably, but that having a stuttering or silent one does not.

The question is: Do I give a shit? I don’t think so. I’m here for my benefit - fun and learning French. My purpose here is not to help Mick keep up with the Joneses. I think this reinforces the fact that I need to do things separate from the family. That’s OK with me. I have this week and then classes start. Now that Chris is here it’ll be easier to find stuff to do.

The party itself was very nice. It started off with champagne, then appetizers (crepes with smoked salmon and chèvre, I believe) And an egg thing with tomatoes, ham and some other stuff. It was similar to something I’ve had at Karen’s before, I know that. I just can’t recall the name for it. The hosts were very attentive, always passing around an appetizer tray or refilling people’s champagne glasses. Dinner was served buffet style, which surprised me a little bit. I know the word buffet is French, it just seems against all of their food customs that I’ve seen thus far. Wine was served with dinner. I was feeling a bit tipsy and the champagne had upset my stomach. I’ve been finding alcohol doing that since I got here. Is my body celebrating a respite from the booze-fest that is my American life? I did have some at Mick’s encouragement and it was very good. Dessert was either a chocolate tart which was ridiculously good and/or tiramisu. I think it was just whipped cream, not marscapone, so it was kind of soupy. Got into a bit of a conversation at that point about my tiramisu vs. traditional with Annie, it was good to talk a little bit. Then people had coffee followed by cointreau and crushed ice, and then we left.

What I really want to talk about here is the disconnect between Mick and Philo, and I don’t know what to say. Philo speaks less well and is very against class stuff, I believe. He’s gotten fired up about a few things since I’ve been here: Being yelled at as a child for not knowing how to cut bread or cheese properly; , and last night about the French education system. I asked what a college was. I was told it’s between ecole and lycee, and at the end at age 13 or 14 kids have to chose what they’re going to do with their life. One of the three things I said all night to everyone was that it was hard for me to understand how a child can do that at that age. Once French kids get tracked educationally, it’s very hard to move to a different track if their interests turn out differently. Everyone agreed that it was very hard for the children to do that. What I sensed from Philo, though, was that he thought the system itself was bad. I agree. But what I sensed from the others was that the system is what the system is. The accept that difficulty for their kids, whereas I think Philo challenges the whole structure. Or maybe I’m just projecting, I don’t really know. Maybe I feel the need to put some meaning on Philo’s disconnect from Mick and Mick’s friends, I don’t really know. I’m sure I’ll talk about this more later.

the inability to function continues

[Jan. 28th, 2006|02:25 pm]

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Another good day, thankfully. I woke up at 8:30, which helped a lot. I was able to eat and digest my breakfast before Philo came home. The past several days, having slept later, I had no appetite at lunch because I’d eaten my breakfast too late, but then I’d be hungry well before dinner. Today that was not a problem. After breakfast this morning I skipped the shower. My skin just couldn’t take another dousing in the extremely hard water here until I purchased some lotion. I’d forgotten to look when I went to Galarie Lafayette on Tuesday. I got dressed, did some ballet exercises, made my bed (it seems that everyone her emakes there bed every morning, so I’m making a special effort to be better about that) had lunch with Philo, and then headed out.

I took the number fifteen bus across the river and hunted around for the Centre National de Danse Contemporaine. It was fairly easy to find, however the office closes between 12h30 and 14h00 (12:30 and 2:00) I think I got there around one. I remember having seen the post office marked on my map, so I went back and walked all the way around the block it was marked as being on. No post office. I walked around in again. AHA! It’s across the street form where it’s supposed to be according to my map. How convenient! I went in and purchased a phone card quite easily not having the faintest clue what the French for phone card is. Then I got directions to two different cafes where I went, got some coffee, had a cigarette, and read for a bit. I even managed to ask another customer up at the counter if I had to pay then or afterward#. The answer is afterwards, if you’re interested.

The dance center was really cool. The receptionist was very friendly and helpful (she complimented my French, which always gets people the ego-stroke points in my book). The center occasionally organizes master classes, but primarily it invites artists to come here and do work. She also couldn’t direct me towards another modern dance school in the vicinity. Oh well, I’ve got a few master classes lined up and several performances that I’ll try to attend. That’s something, at least.

Shit, I’m really tired (having finally woken up at a reasonable hour) but I really feel like I ought to keep writing as this was a fairly important day.

Alright, I will continue. Walked across the bridge, took a few pictures on my way. Looked like a total boob tourist. Went back to Galarie Lafayette to look for lotion. While I’m not certain what half the things in there are, I do believe none of them were that. It’s hard to tell because their soap bottles are very strange and they all advertise how hydrating and softening they are. I was able to purchase soap, which was nice. As I couldn’t find lotion, I bought Dove, hoping that might make a difference. Then I went back to FNAC as I’d forgotten to buy an alarm clock. No luck their either. Of well, I still have a week and a half before I really ought to have one. I’ll figure something out.

Then I headed off to UCO to check my email, taking more “Kyle’s an idiot tourist” pictures on the way. Lo and Behold! Who do I run into in the lobby area? Chris! Yay! I checked my email and then we walked back together. I’m very happy with the family I’m in. Chris’ host mother, Anne, seems to be all business. He had to sign a contract, get insurance, and is not allowed to have guests. Ugh.

While walking in the general direction of his house, we came across “Super U” one of the new French supermarkets. It is very strange. I’ll leave it at that. I’m sure I’ll have many more Super U encounters to share. I was, however, able to --eventually-- find and purchase lotion. This was the second time that something had a price listed on the shelf, but it was actually much cheaper and the register. I’ll have to start paying more attention to that in the future.

Talking with Chris made me realize the progress that I’ve already made with my French. While I think I started off better than him in some regards, but not as good as him in other regards, I’m at least equal in all regards now, and much better in some. The release that I felt when I understood that I’m actually getting somewhere was amazing. All the stress of “I’m such a fucking tool. I retarded. Why am I here? I should give up on ever learning this language.” is gone. It has gotten easier, and it will continue to do so. Aaaaahhh! C’est bon.

After that, came home, had a really nice dinner (including a Jameson’s neat and then a vodka with caramel syrup. The dinner was an omelet with something between ham and bacon in it and an endive salad with homemade vinaigrette (vinegar made from raspberry juice wine). They had the two at the same time. Apparently the entrée is meat and vegetables. The special treat at dinner was a special section of cheeses that they bought just for me. Things they’d heard me say I wanted to try as well as things they think I ought to try. They’re super cool. Dessert was fresh homemade pudding (although they insist that pudding is something else, made with flour. They’ve spent too much near those Brits and their understanding of pudding.

After dinner we watched TV, and after looking up some special vocabulary about boats, I was able to pretty much follow along with what was being said. Progress!

And they all fall down

[Jan. 27th, 2006|02:24 pm]

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[Jan. 25th, 2006|02:04 pm]

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A memory that I haven’t yet written about keeps popping into my head. Yesterday afternoon I was on the bus coming back home. Having left my maps in my bedroom I was feeling a bit nervous about being certain not to get off too soon, or too late (I wasn’t successful at that if you’ll recall).

An old French lady gets on the bus a few stops after I when we’re starting to get out of the downtown area and sits facing me. She says something completely incomprehensible in French. I may have asked her to repeat what she said, I don’t recall exactly. If she did repeat it, I still didn’t understand a word of what she said. I apologized, saying that I don’t speak French very well. Either that or I said “I well very don’t French speak.” One of the two.

She continued to smile very sweetly, we made eye contact a few times in an amicable way (it’s hard not to when your knees are a foot apart from each other. Now comes the part that I’m stuck on. She said something which I initially took to be a question, am I here to learn French? To which I responded, Yes, but I just arrived a week ago. Her face continued to glow happily, but she then refused to look in my general direction at all.

In retrospect, I think she might have said that it’s necessary to learn French to be here, or I ought to have learned French if I’m going to be here. Something like that. Not even a question at all. Which would make my response kind of rude. The implication in her (revised) statement being that I should have learned French better before I came here.

Thus I feel like a typical arrogant American asshole who is seen as expecting to be able to pick up a language very quickly just by going to a place. I don’t feel like that at all. I’ve spent so much time studying French, I really thought I’d had a better grasp on the language than I do, and I’m still not certain that I could have a better understanding of the language just from classroom learning.

This also digs up the frustration of loose ends. I have had so many conversations here where I’m not really certain what was being discussed. I’m sure many of my responses have been way off base and did not follow the flow of the rapport. I’m not a person who likes not knowing what was really going on. Having a vague idea what someone is talking about but not being clear, or being uncertain about what my conception is correct or not really bothers me.

I guess, like so many other things here, I’m just going to have to get used to it.

Feelin' Sleezy

[Jan. 25th, 2006|02:02 pm]

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How am I doing today…. I think I’m doing fairly well. I slept too late and was sort of in a funk from that, but rallied well. I think it was because I was able to get on the internet from school and e-mail people. I really needed that re-connection.

I am sad and lonely here, but not depressed, and that is the key. Thus far this journey is a success because I haven’t fallen into an emotional pit.

When I was at Charles de Gaulle, I’d asked for une boite d’eau. The two other people in the area joked about me because I’d said that. I realized that I’d asked for a can of water, not a bottle of water. I had a further realization about that encounter today when I asked Antoine what the bread box was called (very different from our bread boxes) and he said boite du pain. Boite means box, not can. This made me realize when I was at CDG, I’d asked for a box of water. That made me really embarrassed about the prvious encounter and begs the question, what the hell is the word for a can?

Today I realized that I’d left my maps at home after I left UCO and was headed in town. I had the phone numbers of everyone if I’d needed them, so I wasn’t too terrified (although I have no idea how to use a public phone here - I hope it’s easy). I managed to find FNAC and Galarie Lafayette without my maps, which was really nice, it being my third time downtown. Then I was able to get on the correct bus and get home safely (even though I got off the bus two stops early and had to walk for a bit.

When I was at Galarie Lafayette I saw the Jameson’s that I had been telling Philo about, so I picked up a bottle for him. Thus we got a bit tipsy before dinner. I think that inspired Philo to open up a bottle of wine during dinner. So we got a bit more tipsy during dinner. That might just be helping my mood this evening. At least I’ll be able to go to sleep early tonight.

I’m still baffled by the idea that Jack Daniels is the best whiskey to these people. They are fans of Absolut Vodka, which I can understand, but they don’t know what I’m talking about when I bring up Grey Goose, using the French or the English for the name.

Tomorrow I’m going to search for the “National Center for Contemporary Dance” on the other side of the river. Hopefully having that to motivate me to leave the house will help tomorrow to be a good day as well. Maybe I’ll stop by the University again and e-mail people some more.

Kyle

Shopping

[Jan. 24th, 2006|02:00 pm]

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Totally thrown off my game tonight. The son has felt a bit distant for about a day now. Tonight we all went shopping and I had a great time with the parents. I could tell that Antoine was not particularly engaged in the experience. We were clothes shopping for me, which was great fun. It’s the end of season sale, which is far far far more important here than at home. 50% or more off of everything. The urban boutiques become like the outlet sales at home. 45 Euros for two shirts and a pair of pants, all very hip. We got home and had a discussion about laundry, etc. which led to the money discussion. Breaking it down by which meals I ate there, and how much laundry I do a week. I understand that it’s important to be clear about that, but at the same time, it changed what had been a mostly friendly and familial feeling evening for me and turned it into a business relationship.

This is the second time I’ve felt like this since I’ve been here. Isolated and alone, just as I’d warned I’d feel. The happy moments that I have are great, but then little shit fucks me up and I realize how tenuous my happiness is. I wish I hadn’t come over so soon. I’m afraid of doing much without the family, but I need to learn to operate independently of them. When school starts that will be easy, but right now it’s a lot of work. Today I didn’t do anything by myself because it was cold. Tomorrow, even though it’s going to be cold again, I have to not be here when the family comes home. After lunch I’ll head to the school to talk about internet access - if I can get any before I actually start classes. That will help a lot, if I can spend some time connecting with my friends back home.

I find myself wondering if that’s what the family was insinuating with the money discussion, because Philo did say that I could do things by myself if I wanted. Was he saying, “Do things by yourself”? I don’t know. But I’ll take that as his intention. Tomorrow I will allow them to breathe a sigh of relief when they come home and I’m not there. Give them some time for them. I think that will ease things considerably. I’ll ask them what time I need to be home tomorrow night for dinner before they head off to bed this evening.

That scares me. I don’t want this to be a place that I feel unwelcome. The thought of being out tomorrow night and being afraid to come home scares me. I’ve been in that housing situation before. It’s been a long time and I don’t want to repeat it. Maybe by spending some time away the next few days, it will transform the situation back into something more amicable. I hope so.

I need friends. I need something to do with my day.

Tomorrow I’ll take my computer and try to track down an internet connection. I’ll try school and I’ll try at some café’s (If I can find one - I need to ask about that) Hopefully that will give me the purpose that I need to find to give value to spending time out of the house. Not out of the house because I think the family wants me out of the house, out of the house with something concrete to do. Something that’s real for me.

I hope I’m not completely off base with this train of thought. Writing has really helped me work through this. I can understand it as a therapeutic tool now. If however, I have dug into this problem deeply, but in actuality I dug way way east of the problem, I will not be satisfied.