So at 10:30 we started class. I am in the most advanced class, along with Vaune, Laura, Brittany, and Jessica. Brennan tested up into our class today, which means that more than half of Tulane’s program is in level 9. Mostly what we did yesterday was administrative stuff, including having our ID photos taken. Less than an hour later, we had ID cards.
I look oddly sunburnt in mine.
In our class, we also did a dictation, some speaking, and wrote a little bit so that our teacher can decide if we are in the right class. Yesterday we had two hours of Language class, then lunch, then a break. After that we had “expression orale,” which was really fun and reminded me a bit of Ste-Anne and also early level conversation classes. But it was fun, and Vaune and I were reassured by the fact that we were among the better speakers. We did that for an hour, and then had language lab. Our listening comprehension exercise was pretty difficult, although by the end I think most of us had most of the answers. We had that for an hour, and then after that we had two hours of “Civilisation,” which is really a culture class. We learned about le Mont St-Michel and Saint-Malô, which are places that we are going to visit on Sunday. We also learned about the Châteaux de la Loire, which we are going to visit on the 16th. It was pretty interesting, although very long. If you’ve been doing the math, you will realize that we were there from 9:30 AM until 7:00 PM. After that I had to run home because dinner is at 7:30, on the dot.
Dinner is always an experience. Last night we started off with some weird thick slice of salami, and then there was white fish with rice, which was interesting because for lunch we had had salmon with rice. And it seemed that most people had fish and rice for dinner last night – maybe Wednesday is unofficial fish and rice night in Angers? I literally eat everything they put in front of me, even if I hate it, because I don’t want to be rude. This woman must think that all Americans need to eat massive amounts of food to sustain their fatness, because she keeps shoving food at me. Between her and her husband, they eat less than half of what she makes, and then she expects me to eat the rest. Vaune thinks that she is fattening me up to eat me. Every time I stop eating she says, “Mangez comme il faut!” in a very frantic voice.
It’s been interesting living with these two grandparent-types, because I have never really been in a situation where I have had to use the formal way of speaking very often. What they tell you in French class is that you use it with strangers, authority figures, and old people. As soon as I met these people, I could tell that they were very Old France, very polite. They always refer to me as “vous,” and I do the same to them and try very hard to remember the formal ways to say things, like using the conditional to ask for things and using inversion to ask questions. It actually comes very naturally, and I am very pleased with myself.
After dinner I started to get ready for the meet-up at the bar. I borrowed Madame’s hair-dryer and took a shower. Keep in mind that the shower is in the kitchen, so I was taking a shower while she was doing the dinner dishes. They are used to this and don’t seem to care, but it makes me very uncomfortable.
I left around 9, and met up with Jessica and Emerson (a Haitian guy who goes to Allegheny college and lives in the same host house as Jessie) and their friends and we walked together to the bar. It was very crowded, so we grabbed our free sangrias and got out of there. We went across the street to another bar, which was much less crowded. Vaune and I were charged with drink getting, and thus sat down at the bar, next to a guy with many facial piercings who I had seen around at La Catho. Vaune ordered Guinness for herself and Jennifer, and I asked the bartender (whose name is Kat) what she recommended. After talking for a few minutes, she concocted a beverage for me, and when someone asked what it was, she told them, “It’s the Boston Special!” When she handed it me, she said, “Here you go, baby girl,” in this accent that sounded sort of British, sort of Canadian. What it really sounded like was a Quebecoise speaking English learned from a teacher with a British accent, but I have no idea if she is Quebecoise or French or what. She was really cool and seemed very good at keeping rowdy Frenchman at bay.
The "Boston Special." Loving the glowstick. Seems dangerous to my health though.
Around 11:30 this bar seemed randomly to transform into a bar full of gay men. All these guys were singing some drinking song together, which sounded something like “Little Bunny Foo Foo,” and Jennifer asked one of them, “Qu’est-ce qu tu chantes?” This other guy came up and said to her, “You speak ze English? He is my boyfriend,” and then they started kissing, five inches in front of Jennifer’s face. Sadly, I missed this encounter as I was deep in conversation about body art with the guy sitting next to me. He told us his name was Scott, but we called him Stephanie. We bonded over a mutual love of Rocky Horror Picture Show.
Vaune and I being silly.
Scott, looking pensive.
Around 12:15 we decided we should go since we had class in the morning, so we left. I was uncomfortable about walking home alone in the dark, so I jokingly said to Brennan, “Do you want to walk half an hour in the wrong direction so that you can then turn around and walk another half an hour back to your house?” and Brennan said, “Sure!” and walked me home, so at least I didn’t have to feel sketchy walking home alone. I let myself into the house very quietly (this morning Madame specifically told me that she didn’t hear me come in) and went to bed, only to get up at 7:30 again this morning! Ah!!! It never ends.
