It is normal, I know that. I don't know why I always mention the bread. Maybe partly because it is funny and perhaps because part of me still considers it a meal on it's own. But, it's an example of how the everyday has become comfortable, watered down and recognizable. Things aren't so foreign anymore.
When first arrived, my senses were heightened as I was new to my environment, not quite yet a part of it. Its gotten more difficult to see these bizarre, foreign aspects of life and it's become a struggle, trying to retain the details of all that I see, hear, think and do.
Things have slowed down a bit for me, since I have followed nearly the same schedule everyday for the last month. It's been a lot like high school-- go to class for seven hours in 45 minute blocks long blocks, take a lunch break somewhere in the middle of it. Things will change next week, when I will be given actual courses on varying subject matter and it'll be like a college again. I'm looking forward to it.
Monday was the first day of fall. This will be my first time without the Michigan autumn. I tend to overlook this time of year when I'm standing in mid michigan, thinking about the snow, slush and ice that swallows us whole for a good half of every year. I'll miss the CMU trees--all lined up along the streets and how they turn these different shades of fire before they all fall to the ground.
The other day, I watched a TV show from the early 90s. Just the clothes they were wearing and the obviously low budget looked like something I would have watched on Nickelodeon during a time when I have had the entire network programming lineup memorized. It turned out to be some old German TV show. It took awhile to figure it out because there were several American products and sports teams referenced and the dialogue was dubbed over. The French don't like subtitles.
That's something I'm going to have a hard time with-- dealing with television and movies that have been dubbed over in French. It's so irritating when the actors lips don't match up to their words.
Last Saturday was the final excursion for September, and the last for a while, we went to the province of Bretagne to see the Golfe du Morbihan (the Atlantic Ocean) and Les alignements Mégalithes (stone henge-like rock alignments).
We started off the day on the bus around 6:30 a.m. and headed to the Golfe for a ferry boat ride. There were hundreds of small islands and sail boats out on the water. There were even more empty boats that were anchored all over the place without any apparent rhyme or reason. I think it was supposed to be some sort of "marina", but it looked like a clusterfuck to me.
It was a sunny day and the water and the sky was beautiful, but it was still very windy and cold.
We had an hour to eat a picnic lunch, look at the boats and collect sea shells at a beach.
The Megalithes are these rocks that are lined up in rows all over this one part France-- older than stone henge. Experts think they are similar to Stone Henge in that they were used as a sort of calender system. Nearby the sites we visited, there were old houses where people had clearly marked their property with "No Trespassing" signs and lined their yards with electric fencing. I accidentally brushed the fencing and mistook the buzz for a sharp object. The Monolithes have been there for thousands of years and were probably just a part of the landscape when people decided to settle there. Now it's a tourist attraction where people from all over the world make the same "bahhh" noises, mocking the property owners sheep, hanging on their fences and step all over their grass.
We probably spent more than enough time looking at these.
The Megalithes
They go for miles...
Bahhhhh!
This sign was at the parking lot near the Monolithes. It says "If you take my parking spot, take my handicap."
Beach!
Some more shells
Dead crab
I made a ring out of this one... then threw it back on the beach
Siri and Chris
The port city of Vannes was relaxing. I drank cidre, which is basically hard cider and the pride and joy of Bretagne (exported all over the world) while laughing at tourists (pretending that I wasn't one myself.)
The French love Obama. This is an ad I have seen at a few different bus stops throughout Angers.
While we were in Vannes at a Brasserie, a group of us saw an old car drive by with an Obama '08 campaign sticker on the bumper. The car was small (like all cars in Europe), but it looked like something the army would have used a long time ago. It pulled out of a dark alleyway and drove up right beside our table. Then, it made a quick right and rounded another corner before I had the chance to take a picture of it.
Angers stuff
In France, abstinence only sex education is an urban legend. Condom machines can be found in the most bizarre public places. This one was between shops on Fauche, the main street near school.
A few people at school have gotten some weird looks when expressing how pleased they are that the French don't use preservatives in food. The word "preservatif" means condom.
I took a picture of this guy's tattoo's at a bar the other night. It says "The World... is Yours" Back home, you see a lot of Latin, French and Spanish. And the first tattooed words I see are in English. People here are usually excited to learn I am American and ask me to say things in English. I've seen a few ads around for English speaking clubs and finding jobs in the states. I guess the grass is pretty green from the other side-- minus the whole state of potential economic collapse and the zoo of an election, etc.
Je voudrais un coca lite s'il vous plait.
This is spray painted on a wall near my bus stop.
Everyone here smokes. This is a Tabac, a place that's similar to a liquor store, where you can go buy cigarettes, cigars, papers, lighters, etc. This is one of many in the city and across France. The French like having separate stores for speciality items-- bread and pastries at a patisserie, sweets at a chocolaterie, meat at a butcherie, and dairy at the cremerie.
2 comments:
great!! everything. great.
They need to have condom machines here.
Post a Comment