Thursday, September 8, 2011

La Place de la Comedie et aussi un Creperie

La Place De La Comedie
August 16, 2011
            I came to when I realized that I was drooling on the innocent passenger sitting by me on the bus to Montpellier. Looking around I started to get really nervous because I was expecting all of Europe to look like an extension of Italy. When the bus pulled to a stop and I saw a brightly colored floral train/subway above ground (what I later learned was a tramway system the entire city runs on) I was unsure of what to do. I had emailed the school about my time of arrival but wasn’t sure if they’d received it and the powers that be were aware I wasn’t at a train station but at the bus stop. So armed with my halting French I managed to ask one of the girls I saw if the “gare” for the train was the same for the bus. As I tried to explain myself, « Ehh…est la….umm…gare? je pense ce dit comme ca….le meme chose pour le bus et le umm…le train? » While I was gesturing wildly with my hands and the girl was nodding her head for me to continue a short girl with torso length brown hair tapped me on the shoulder and asked me if I was Valentina studying at the Universite Paul Valery. Thank god! The middle aged man next to me that hadn’t said a word the entire time said in English, “Good luck!” to which I hastily replied “Merci” but also couldn’t help but think if he knew some English why hadn’t he attempted to offer his services? Marion was the name of my savior and Resident Assistant for the 3 week prestage and while she tried to explain to me how the tramway works and the construction that would require us to switch over to a bus. I could understand everything she was saying but after 16 hours on a bus and having spoken Italian for 3 days every time I tried to speak all that would come out was a mélange of English, Italian and French. The worst part is I’d only realize I was doing it when she would then get the quizzical, “Que-est-que tu as dit?” (What the hell did you just say?) I’ve now become entirely used to and pretty apt at spotting this look but I’m not sure if it’s a good sign?
            I was the first one of the 34 students in the orientation program because almost everyone else had connecting flights from some U.S. state to Paris. I took the time to shower and set up my room which was smaller than it seemed in the pictures and that’s saying a lot because it looked like a closet online. Still there was something quaint about the lack in space and it compensated with a half bath and a mini-fridge. I met a few people and quickly discovered that most of the American students in the orientation program were from University of Washington in Seattle, Washington. I went from not knowing one single person from Washington to meeting I want to say about 20? I also had to ask about the Amanda Knox situation and if that affected their decision to study abroad. It hadn’t. I guess it wouldn’t really have affected me either come to think of it because the situation really was just a lot of unfortunate circumstance, trumped up evidence and poor decision making on the part of the defense. Anyways, I commiserated with a fellow and the only other New Yorker in the pre-session (although in a very un-Loyola way she doesn’t hail from 1. Westchester County or 2. Long Island). She was a little peeved because one of her suitcases had gotten lost in the midst of her 11827382929 transfers. It’s funny how people can bond over tragedy more so than good fortune. I found myself commiserating with her because although I hadn’t lost my suitcase on this trip I had in the past for about 2 weeks and knew exactly how she felt. And so a friendship stuck…
            Later that night I was bent on doing something and so with one of the other Resident Assistants, Madina, and August (the other Loyola student) we took the tram to La Place de la Comedie (a big piazza of sorts which is the center of town). I was speechless. It was beautiful from the marbled floor to the antiquated carousel. The fountain of the 3 Graces which sits in the dead center right across from a McDonalds (or McDo as the French people refer to it) and the pink and blue lights that hit the opera house and buildings in such a way that it’s not tacky like one would presume but rather quite breathtaking. We went walking around breathing in the sights and sounds of French people debating, drinking wine, eating at 10 o’clock at night on a Tuesday. Finally coming to a creperie we decided to stop and get something to eat. I opted for a nutella crepe because I have choco-holic tendencies while August had a vegetarian crepe that smelt like pizza fresh out of the oven. After talking with Madina I realized that 1. She knew so much more English than she let on (she explained it was because she had to read a lot of political science papers in English and Dr.House) and 2. She was working on her Phd writing her doctorate 3. She was from Niger (not to be confused with Nigeria which she apparently gets a lot). We spoke in a mixture of French and English to get the point across but I was really impressed with her story of how she ended up in Montpellier and was even able to bring up my service with refugee students of Fulani culture. I’d say for the first official night in France it was a success!
Moi avec la fontaine des Trois Graces