vendredi 8 mai 2009

I spoke too soon.  As I mentioned in my last post, the president of the Fac de lettres came up with a plan to re-start classes and take exams, and the students were to vote on it on Wednesday.  Most of the teachers were just certain that the students would support the proposal.  I only heard one who mentioned the possibility that it might not pass, and all she said was, "The students are being suspiciously quiet about the proposal."

Well the students voted against the proposition, and classes didn't start.

Then the next week the president had a new plan to re-start classes, and there was not an entire public vote, but the voting body of the university assembled and they voted against it.  

This time the president ignored the vote and encouraged teachers to come to the university at 8 in the morning to remove the chains on the doors and to start classes.  They knew that some students wouldn't be happy, and I was even warned that "there might be violence."  I arrived at 9 for my 10 o'clock class, and all the buildings were locked up.  Apparently there had been a scuffle with the police at 8, and the president had given up his attempt to re-open the school.  And well, as a response to the whole situation, he has locked everything up (as in you can't even get on campus.)

I just don't know what to think of all of this.  At this point, the students are angry that the school schedule wasn't good enough--that they wouldn't have enough time to study for exams. But well that is what happens when you go on strike for two months and try to cram 3 months of school into one month.  And well every week that a decision is pushed back, we have less and less time to get what we need done done.   And they are also trying to change all of the exams to "dossiers" or well portfolios of work.  This would supposedly alleviate some of the time strain, but I am starting to get the impression that this proposal is just because students hate exams.   

Sigh.  

For the past few months I have been jealous of my friends who have been able to plan their futures as mine just sort of hung delicately in the balance.  But now with the news that I got the assistant position in Spain (and a little bird told me that there is a really good chance I will end up in Almeria).  So finally I am able to start imagining my future (well as far as next year anyway), and it's a good feeling.

I have my plane tickets!  I was hoping to squeeze in a trip to see my Aunt Zee and Uncle Nik in Mainz before I went to Spain for the summer, and it really worked out since Almeria is a hot spot for German (and British) tourists so I found a cheap direct flight from the Frankfurt airport near them.  So I'll go spend a few days with my relatives and then fly directly to Almeria.  That's right, you heard me.  Directly.  This is the first direct flight I have had in years and years.  No shuffling onto public transportation with all of my luggage, no dragging my suitcases up and down staircases to make train connections--someone will drop me off at the airport; I will take a single flight and someone will pick me up at the other end.  Amazing.

My trip to the United States will not be so simple--on the contrary.  I will have to take a train to Madrid, get a hotel there and then take a bunch of planes.  Why is it so difficult to get to Jackson, Mississippi I wonder?  It is not particularly cosmopolitan, but it is a capital city.  That is something I will be pondering as I jet to one American airline hub after another in wrong directions direction just trying to get back home on August 6th.

So there it is the date I am coming home.  I was trying to come home later in the month since flights in late August are half the price as in early August and because I wanted to go to the huge weeklong party in Almeria called the "feria."  But you know I am getting eager to go home (I can hear my mom and grandmother giving sighs of relief at this) though temporarily.  And well in the end the determining factor for my trip turned out to be--weddings.  I have already missed the weddings of three of my closest friends and I need to make it to the ones that I can.  And anyway when seeing my friends from home is so rare, I can't refuse an opportunity to see them all gathered in one place.  

Now I have more bureaucracy to think about.  The very sound of the word "visa" sends chills up my spine, but it is unavoidable.  
Let's see how getting a Spanish visa compares to getting a French one...
1.) The consulate is in New Orleans, which is a zillion times better than the one in Atlanta, which I had to visit twice last year. (1 Point for Spain)
2.) Bunch of paperwork yada yada yada, same old stuff (a tie)
3.) Criminal background checks from everywhere I have lived in the past 5 years all with an official apostille---WHAT?!!  Spanish visa regulations, why are you ruining my life?   Going through the French police stations in both Nancy and Metz is going to be horrific, and I have the feeling that getting them from the United States when I am not present is going to be quite a hassle.  (-100 points for Spain)

Final Score: Spain -99, France 0

All that work and all the Spanish are going to see on my record is a couple of speeding tickets.

Well at any rate, I can't do anything about it today because it is yet another public holiday (Oh, May, and all of your public holidays!).  Today is the Ascension, and I was thinking that it is pretty funny that 80% of the population probably doesn't even know why it's a holiday, and only a tiny percent of people go to church.  But then I heard singing this afternoon, and I realized that it was coming from a church that is not too terribly far.  That's the funny thing about these small echo-y streets is that well sound really carries so it sounded really close by.   It seemed to me that the people were sort of trying to remind everyone the reason that we are not working today, and it was pleasant.

It is a little hard to believe that it is almost time to leave France.  Sometimes it feels like I just got here, and Nancy is big enough so that I haven't had enough time to get bored yet!  As much as I complain about France, I think that I am really going to miss a lot of things about it, although I am not exactly sure what yet.  When I think about the strikes and the bureaucracy and the strikes, I am glad I am leaving...

mardi 5 mai 2009

Je suis lorraine; je serai espagnole; je suis impresionée

First thing's first-- I got the email today confirming that I got the assistantship in Spain!!  Yay!  What a relief.  Knowing that I have employment next year (especially in Spain where unemployment has hit 18%) in this economy is a big source of relief.  And at this point I will take the position even if I don't get placed in Almeria.  Like with the French assistantship, when they tell you that you have been accepted to the program, they don' tell you the city you are in, just the region.  So I know that I will be in Andalucia, which is good because that is the region that Almeria is in, but it is also the biggest region in Spain so I could end up anywhere.  Now to try and pull some strings to get placed in Carlos' city.  I wrote in my essay and basically every white space of my application, "Please place me in Almeria."

Second news of the day...the blocage at the university is getting resolved.  And the president decided that we will make up the missed classes--this came as a big surprise.  I'd gotten so spoiled that I'd scheduled other lessons and doctors appointments and sundry other things at the times I used to have class and now I have to reschedule all of that stuff.  I am glad that my students will be getting their educations,  but selfishly frustrated that the job I thought was over will continue.  The second round of exams is going to take place in September, and this means that I don't have to stay in France any longer than I thought I would.

Now on to my latest adventure.  Life has been so monotonous lately.  It was about time.  My British friend who is dating a French guy named JB invited me to a "bison-themed party" with a bunch of his friends.  I didn't know any more details...but that is ok since the best adventures always start out like that.  Turned out to be in a tiny town--population 86...does that even constitute a town?, which was having a bison-festival since some farmers in the area raise bison.  They brag about how such a small place can get together and put the festival together to attract (they claim) 10,000 "fools" to come hang out and spend their money there.  The atmosphere was quite festive.  There was a nice flea market and well plenty of bison to eat.  My friend's boyfriend's friends were really fun people, and we had a good day.  At one point, I met someone, who I know believe to be the son of the mayor of said village, who after a five-minute conversation (unbeknownst to me) fell in love with me.  After this, I ventured out with my new friends to see the bison grazing, and upon our return to Tiny Village, I realized the son of the mayor had already told the other 85 residents of the town about me and immediately started introducing me to them as his wife.  The news that I have a boyfriend came as an unpleasant surprise, and I spent the rest of the night ignoring his cries of the one sentence he was able to muster in English, "I love you."

In the meantime, the residents of Tiny Village were astonished to meet an American.  This sort of thing doesn't happen in Nancy, but in rural villages, which barely get any visitors from neighboring towns, seeing foreigners is pretty rare.  Now I have to take a moment to point out that the beverage tent, which was charging visitors for beer was giving free beer to locals, and they were taking full advantage of this privilege.  So the drunken villagers took to all calling my name loudly, then yelling their opinions at me, and then telling me what a surprise and a pleasure it was to meet me (which seemed strange because I was never able to get a word in edgewise with all their ramblings).  At this point I was ready to go home, but we had to stick around for a barbecue at a guy's house.  And I was glad I did because I am pretty sure that he made himself the sausages that we ate, and wow...just amazing stuff.  Drunk villagers also attending the barbecue continued haranguing me.  One man in particular followed me around all night telling me how great it was to meet me. The last thing he said to me was...

"Je suis....
Je suis...
Je suis...
Je suis...
Je suis...
Je suis...

Je suis...
Je suis vraiment impressioné de faire votre connaissance."
It took him five minutes of bumbling "je suis"s before I was actually able to understand what he was saying.  


My day at the Bison Festival was long, not always pleasant, but I really liked JB's friends, and well it was just the sort of spontaneous adventure I needed to pick me up from all of my stressful work lately.  And also it was a chance to explore the rural parts of the region was nice  
since I haven't done too much of that.  I jokingly referred to myself as "une lorraine" the other day, but realized that even though I will be moving to Spain, after two years here in Lorraine, I can call myself "lorraine" at least a little bit.  Not too much though since I still can't stand choucroute (sauerkraut)...