I see London, I see Fra-- London...

I am sitting in a very expensive internet cafe ready to share with you (in the next 20 minutes) everything I've learned about London.

1. The British Customs Officers are a mean, nasty bunch. I had to go through customs in Paris before catching that Eurostar train (don't worry, folks, they totally had things up and running again on Saturday after that dire weather emergency), and they had some real, live snotty English people to help me through the process. The woman I dealt with gave me so much shit about the fact that I didn't have the address of where I was staying (even though that would have been like 12 places) and told me it was "grounds for refusal." Then she made it all personal and was like, "If it were me trying to get into America there'd be no argument. You have to know the address." Listen, lady, I'm not the effing INS, I don't make the rules, just let me go on my vacation. And she did. After much further badgering.

2. The Tube. What's the big, fucking deal? I know some (snobby) people who studied in London and were all like, "Oh, the Tube is soooo much better than anything we have in America." There were two lines closed this weekend for repairs, and (as we later found out) both our hostels were located on notoriously slow lines. They're supposed to come every seven to eight minutes, but we often ended up waiting upwards of 20 or 30 minutes. Which leads me to point three.

3. The bus = mostly more reliable than the Tube + lots of things to see out the window + crazy late night adventures. The first time we had to take the bus was on Saturday because the Tube closes at 12:30! On a Saturday! The bus we were actually waiting for seemed to be indefinitely delayed, so we took a different one and ended up having to pay a cab to get the rest of the way home, in the end. But while on the bus (in heavy traffic), a very drunk man fell on (not to be confused with stepping into the vehicle), accompanied by his slightly less inebreated friend. This second guy proceeded to try to speak in many foreign languages with the other (foreign) bus passengers and set A up with some guy sitting accross from her named Mohamed.

Today our bus driver hit a pedestrian. Hit someone. She wasn't bleeding or anything, but we all had to get off and walk the rest of the way into town.

4. Big Brother lives here. The whole damn city is monitored by CCTV, there are cameras in all public areas. [Awesome and relevant photograph of grafiti to be added later]

Added.  I love that this was painted under surveillance.

Now my time is up and I don't want to be charged more than half an hour! But I'm actually having an amazing time. More to follow.

A belated note on Obama

Don't worry, guys, just because I'm in France doesn't mean I've totally lost touch. I know that Obama is the new president, and I even watched the inauguration on youtube after the fact. I tried watching it on TV, but the French dubbing was bad and annoying; I mean, one of the many refreshing things about Obama is the fact that he has a nice voice and that he's an eloquent speaker. I got tired pretty quickly of straining to hear him beyond the voiceover. But like I said, I watched the speech, and he was awesome.

And can I just say that Michelle and Barack are the cutest thing ever? They were totally making eyes at each other the whole time he was being sworn in.

Okay, so, maybe not in this picture, but doesn't she look so proud!

Thank you to Jezebel for this video clip of their first dance at the Inaugural Ball. Are they not just so in love?

And Beyoncé is the shit. She totally brought it, and I totally teared up.

Global Warming, anyone?

So, first I get emails from all of my friends and family around Christmas reporting ARCTIC BLAST 2008, the cold front that hit the Pacific Northwest in December. Keep in mind, when I was a kid (and I'm pretty sure this still holds true), a quarter of an inch of snow could seriously shut down every school district in Vancouver, WA. This is a photo (courtesy of my mom) of her front yard/the street in front of the house.


They got 18.9 inches of snowfall! And then it snowed again in late January. I can't tell you how unheard of this is.

And things are no less bizarre over here. Ten people have died in Spain and France due to extraordinarily high winds, there has been serious flooding all over the south of France, London was shut down on Monday by a cold snap, and it's snowing in Flers. Just look.

Normandie: France:: PNW: USA*

This is extremely unprecedented. Are there really still people out there who don't believe we are in the midst of some serious climate change?

I'm supposed to be taking the Eurostar train to London on Saturday. All of this morning's trains from Paris to London have been canceled. Did I mention that London was totally paralyzed by snow? Like, shut-down-all-the-airports-and-stop-running-trains paralyzed? This had better all be cleared up in the next few days. I'm not spending my vacation in Flers.

*Remember analogies and how many you had to memorize for the SAT? Okay, probably for the GRE, too, I wouldn't know.

Some Classic Moments

baiser /be'ze/ (n. masc. French)
1. a kiss

baisser /be'se/ (v. French)
1. to lower
2. to turn down

baiser /be'ze/ (v. French)
1. to screw
2. to fuck*

I probably don't need to explain any further, but I will.

A few nights back, I was drinking with the other language assistants, and we started recounting all of the stupid/embarrassing things we've said by accident in French. One of the German assistants, A, we'll call her, suggested we start a list, for posterity. I thought, Why not? It's always good to look back and laugh at yourself.

So, let me just start by saying, pretty much everything in French seems to have some kind of sexual connotation. You know, the kind of second meaning they don't teach you about in school. One time H, the other German assistant said, 'Oh, ça me fait envie!' which should just mean, 'That makes me want to do it/try it!' (whatever 'it' might be in the context). But apparently, in France, they say this when they really want to do it. You know? Do It? A co-worker of hers kindly explained this after she had already said it to someone else.

My favorite stories, however, have to do with the misuse of the above-described, very delicate word: baiser. Both A and I have fallen victim to this trap. But her story is funnier, so I'm going to tell it first.

So A is a competative badminton player (I know, could she get any more German?) and she practices at a club here in Flers, although apparently nobody is as good as her what with her being a competative player (German)† and them just being silly French people who are out to have a good time. They probably drink wine instead of water during the practice, I don't know.

Anyhow, she was complaining to us one night about the French tradition of kissing people on the cheek, whether you know them or not, both upon arrival and departure. She was like (in French), 'Yeah, I was at practice, and I only know one person there, and I was already sweaty and tired, but before I left j'ai baisé tout le monde!' 'I screwed everybody!' she said. Priceless. The best part was that she didn't realize her mistake until the rest of us were falling out of our chairs laughing. But at least she just said it to us. It could have been worse. She could have asked them all if she had to screw them all before leaving.

My story is milder, but slightly more embarrassing, because I did say it to a stranger. I had to go to the dermatologist a few weeks ago because my skin was getting super dry and making my eczema unbearable. So, anyhow, he told me some interesting stuff about humidity‡, gave me some creams, and told me to take colder showers. What he actually said was, 'Il faut baisser la température de vos douches,' or, 'You need to lower the temperature of your showers.' So, there I was, trying to be all confident and conversational, so I responded, 'Oui, je sais, mais c'est difficile à baiser la température pendant l'hiver.' 'Yes, I know, but it's difficult to fuck the temperature during the winter.' The man didn't bat an eyelash. I suppose it's a good thing I told him I was foreign. And of course I didn't even realize what I had said until it was too late to go back and correct it.

So there you have it, a lesson you (or I) will never forget in French; don't say fuck when you really mean lower, and especially when you really mean kiss. Especially then.



*Okay, so technically, in real, written, dictionary French, it also means 'to kiss,' but no one ever, ever uses the verb in this way.

†A is an awesome, hilarious person, and if she ever reads this, she should know that all of the racists generalizations I'm making are, in fact, entirely in jest.

‡So, people in Normandy are always complaining that it's so humid because it's raining all the time, but the humidity here is actually like 20% lower than it is both in Washington and Minnesota. So that's why my skin was freaking out. Silly Frenchies.

Mondotek-Alive vs. Teletubbies

Omg this is so weird but I love it and it totally cracked me up. First go back and watch the video in the tektonik post, if you haven't already.


I swear I've been traveling and stuff, not just watching youtube all the time.

Not all the time.

Hey, read this

Read my sister's blog.

She's in Spain.

It's good stuff.

(She's also much better about updating than I am and has possibly inspired me to be better.)

French film, in review

Dear Faithful Readers*,

I apologize for my long absence. I have been busy enjoying some European travels during my excessively long vacations and doing my best to get out of my current living situation with the crazy French family. But those are stories for another day. Or, you know, another night when I don't have to work tomorrow morning at the unheard-of hour of 9am. Ridiculous.

For the moment, I would like to simply dispel a rumor that has been circulating for (what must be) ages, and this is it: that French cinema is good. Okay, so we Americans see Amélie and we're like, 'Oh the french are so quirky and imaginative!' Okay, so maybe Jeunet is quirky and imaginative, and maybe that's what we think of as 'typically French,' but that so isn't even his best film. (Plus he does way better with Caro at his side.)

So, anyway, blah blah blah, one or two well-known and French directors†, and that's what we think of as French cinema. Only it's not. French cinema is pretty much just like so much Hollywood crap only more (overtly) racist and sexist.

Case(s) in point:

1. Agathe Cléry

"She is white. She is racist. She is going to become black."

This film was wrong in so many ways. The woman on the poster is in blackface! Not just blackface, black body! The movie is supposed to be a commentary on racism in France. This racist woman delevops some rare 'skin disorder' and slowly starts to become black. She then begins to suffer all of the disadvantages that a black woman in France would (she loses her job, which was basically marketing cosmetics to white ladies, and almost loses her apartment), and that's about as far as the so-called commentary goes. Luckily, a young black female doctor (did you even know they had those?!?) takes her under her wing and shows her how to dress, talk and walk more 'black,' complete with hair salon muscial number. Oh, and did I mention it's a musical? It's a musical.

Other highlights: an hommage-to-Michael-Jackson dance number in which the actress most definitely has a body double and that body double is most probably a man; second solo dance number (post-full-black transformation) in a dance club where Agathe (as a black woman) finally lets loose and it turns out (now that she's black) she's a really great dancer (further use of body double)!

So then guess what? She (after loosing her old job) finally gets a job at this office where they only hire people who aren't white, and her boss is this black man, and they immediately start sleeping together! Because they're both black and so obvs they're totally going to be into each other. Does anybody seem to notice that he's her boss and that their affair might cause some kind of, like, business vs. pleasure conflict? No. Because it's France. They take their business with their pleasure here.

Anyhow, blah blah blah, harmony, blah blah blah, she becomes white again, conflict ensues (will her black boyfriend dump her? will she lose her nonwhite job?), resolution: they get married and have an improbable amount of children as she is in her 40s (but this is probably made possible by his virility).

So, basically, a racist movie about racism.

2. De l'autre côté du lit (From the other side of the bed)

"Give me your place and take mine."

Um, did you see the poster? So, she's a busy mom and he's a workaholic and he's all, Why hasn't the worker finished renovating this room yet! You have one thing to do and you don't do it! And she's all, What?? One thing!! Let's trade places! And there is some hesitation and fighting, but then they do it. Also she punches him in the face.

So guess what, she just takes over his job! It doesn't matter that she doesn't have any training, she just shows up in a low-cut business suit and doesn't even have to give an interview or anything! And guess what else, she's really bad at it and it makes her cry! And he can't cook! Or do their daughter's hair! What a disaster!

But then they both kind of get better at it (You mean a woman can open it?), but of course she cracks under the pressure first, because women are all emotional and shit. Also, for some reason they both have to cheat on each other in really predictable and traceable ways (he takes pictures with a polaroid camera), but you know, they're French, so it doesn't seem to bother anyone for too long.

Anyway, she tries to sabatoge his homemaking (conniving womenfolk), but then he kicks her out for cheating on him with someone at the office, but then he wants her back, but then she finds the polaroids (no doy). Resolution: he is arrested over accusations relating to a program she launched in his place (but he's still technically the boss), he takes the blame, and she comandeers a police car whose radio is conveniantly broadcast in all the rooms of the police station; she professes her love/apologies while driving into/over half a dozen police officers who are trying to force her exit from the vehicle. She wraps it up, gets out of the car, and no one even tries to arrest her.

Okay, so maybe those are the only two movies I've seen in theaters since I've been here (besides Madagascar 2, but that doesn't count), and maybe the posters should have been enough to put me off, but I'm bored, okay? I don't have a lot to do, and at least the poor quality of the French cinema inspired me to take up the keyboard once again.



*Um, I mean, Mom

†My knowledge of French directors is clearly so vast.