Sneezing :: Eternuements

don't worry, I'm not about to say French people sneeze out of their eyes

In the USA, we have a bunch of things to say when someone sneezes.  People usually choose between God bless you, bless you, and gesundheit (for some reason we use a German word too).

how Americans secretly act inside the house

I suppose it's a bit...traditional, but my host family told what the French say after someone sneezes.  After the first sneeze, you'd say à tes/vos souhaits, depending on how formal you want to be.  After the second, you'd say à tes/vos amours, and the after the third, et qu'ils durent toujours.

Google tells me that all that means, "to your wishes, to your loves, and that they'll last forever", but in France it essentially means "bless you" - in the sense that they say it after people sneeze.

What I dislike, and I think that this is the first time I've disliked something here, is that they don't have boxes of tissues here.  I miss my French class in the United States, where everyone brought kleenex boxes for participation points.

not "bribing", per se...

No participation points for me here (evidentially, French people have more integrity than that).  I haven't seen any of those boxes in any of my classrooms here at all.  No, no, everyone has those little folded up tissues in the little packets instead.

That's not the problem.  My host family gave me a little packet after I started sneezing like mad because of my allergies.  Yay, I can now fit in with all the other French girls!!!

OMG, that kleenex totally came out of like, a box - that weirdo

I suppose any gaffe I make here is excused generally because I'm "American," and people are less likely to call me out on it, but I can't even tell when I'm doing something wrong.

It's always awkward to get up and go to the front of the class to go to the trash can, but I didn't think it'd actually be a problem to do so.  I guess that in France, where everyone is glued to their seats, trying to make an exact copy of the teacher's notes, getting up is inconceivable.  Maybe it was because I'd absentmindedly tuned the teacher out (French turns into a beautiful, flowing babble if I don't pay attention) and I stood up right when she was saying something important.

American light doesn't know when to turn off

The Wine :: Le Vin

I feel like YFU told me in a piece of paper that students in France were allowed to try wine for the "culture."  If not, I hope they never read this because I don't want to be shipped back to America yet.

At any rate, I wasn't binge drinking, and it was one time (my justifications).  One night, my host family had a bunch of dinner guests over and they offered to let me taste a bit of red wine.

Cost of French year = justified

I'd say they poured like 50 mL (look at me, using metric measurements), into a wine class.  Now, I tried to be all fancy and sipped it, like a lady.  

class

Do you remember that awful grape medicine that we had to take when we were sick with the cold or the flu or some other trivial disease that didn't require assaulting our taste buds?  I feel like now I know the cause of that terrible flavor.  Cold syrup companies are deliberately trying to get kids drunk so that we stop whining about having a fever, and - hey mommy, I can fly!

I tried to make the tiny bit of red wine last as long as I could, savoring enduring every drop, since I knew that I wasn't going to waste it by tossing it down in the drain just because I hated the taste.  I was still trying to find the reason why people can get jobs tasting wine.  


Eventually though, I just gulped it down like a shot since I got sick of it.  It burned as it went down my throat.  

them wine cows be fiery

Then my host parents just refilled my glass.  Olé! 

So You've Been Made a Co-Author?

"The Art of Co-Authoring For Labbits"

So, thanks to the wonders of the internet, even though I'm currently a few thousand miles away from the original starter of this blog (Aimee), I am now a co-author.  What co-authors do, I have no idea, but I assume I can just piddle away on here to my heart's content instead of leaving flimsy little comments. 

So, let the piddling begin!

Well, like Aimee, I am currently living abroad as an exchange student, except instead of living in France for a year, I am living in Japan for one semester.

What does one do as an exchange student in Japan, you ask?  Well, one does lots of things, like seeing temples, eating ramen, letting your host mom make all of your meals, 

One of these every morning, neatly packed and ready. Bento anyone?

wearing stereotypical school uniforms, riding trains, chasing down sweet potato trucks (but that's its own story)...that kind of stuff.

Of course, I had lots of expectations that matched these, but some of my other expectations have become quite unreachable, it seems.  

For example: learning Japanese.  I had this great wish to be nearly fluent by the time I went back to America, but I'm already in the third month of my exchange with only about 6 weeks left, and after studying Japanese for over a year before coming here, I can barely manage a few simple sentences.  Am I disappointed?  You bet, but sometimes, the situation just isn't ideal (My host family speaks quite a bit of English, my class has several returnees who have lived in America for several years and are practically fluent, and I have been placed in two advanced English classes for returnee students with American teachers--this means I speak English. A lot.)  But while I probably could've worked harder at learning it, I didn't, so there's much else I can do....at least my listening has improved quite a bit...

Another example of failed expectations: I wanted to lose some weight while I was here.  I was so looking forward to the famed healthy Japanese diet, and also shedding a few pounds.  But unless I actually make myself diet (which I have had to do) I stay about the same, or even gain a bit of weight.  Of course, I wasn't too happy about this, but what can I say?  They eat a lot of carbs here, and everything else is just sooo good!

Ramen museum ramen...what will I do when I go back to America??

At least that expectation didn't die.  The food here really is infinitely better than most American fare.  I've had ramen, udon, and soba that would make anyone never want to eat instant ramen again.  Not to mention all of the little cake and tart shops that are EVERYWHERE.  

this is just one of many...

There's probably at least 10 specialized sweet shops in every main train station, not to mention the ones that are just sprinkled about along the streets.  I think I am now made out of gyoza because I eat it so much, and as for sushi, well, when they serve it from a conveyor belt that pumps out endless sushi, there's only so much self-control I can maintain...

Well, I think I've piddled enough.  Maybe next time, I'll write about my host sister's and my adventure with the sweet potato truck.

Until next time!

Passion Fruit :: Fruit de la Passion

People are always asking me what French food is like, how is French food, are you eating gourmet food everyday?  It's such a small question, but the answer would take forever to type.  There are already books and cooking shows that take hours and days to get through, I don't think that my sentence-long answer suffices.

can't have physicists explain quantum mechanics in one sentence

Of course, I'm eating differently here.  I'm not going to eat the same, boring meals I had in the USA when in the country of haute cuisine.  I feel like my meals in the USA can be summarized by several things: white rice, fruit snacks, 2% milk, ham sandwiches, and microwaved eggs.

the only thing that changed for my dinners was the time

Not that my dad and I didn't try to cook, and I'm not saying that that was all that we ate (except I totally am).  Neither of us though, are as dedicated as my host family is to cooking.  Maybe my mom is, but she cooks Chinese food, and that's like comparing apples to oranges.

I can't generalize my meals here.  I eat something new every week, if not day, if not hour.  Yesterday, I tried the comb on the head of a rooster, and maybe that's something you'd expect more in Asian cuisine than European, but in any case of your presumptions, it was good.  Tasted like bacon.

wrong animal, cat

I hadn't known how I would commence (I couldn't remember if that's a word in English until I googled it, and apparently it's pompous) describing my meals in France, for I feel like each one has a story.

I suppose now I can start with my host family's fruit basket.  It actually changes with the seasons, since my host mother detests the fruit of the supermarket with a passion.  There's no problem buying bananas from another country if they're in season all year long in Costa Rica anyways, but buying peaches from France in winter is a big no-no since they "taste like pesticides and water."

She only buys fruit from one lady, who has this grand greenhouse and has been a friend of the family for ages.  In France, they're friends with store owners, and in turn, the store owners give them their best products, and deals.  

Simple fruit is going to be something I'm going to miss a lot, actually.  I didn't appreciate fruit before, when my mom hacked up apples and pears for me "because they're healthy," but in France, where I eat an apple or a clementine for dessert, fruit are so much less forced.

NO.SHUT.UP

Being new to the whole idea of eating fruit just because they can taste good, I have no idea when they're ripe or not.  Yeah, there's the whole "duh, fruit are ripe when they're done being green, and -" WRONG.  Everyone is familiar, I hope with green apples and green grapes, but there're green grapefruits, peppers, and figs that sufficiently prove my point that I understand nothing about fruit, other than the time I had to learn in Biology that they're plant ovaries.

I've been eating plant baby-makers???

My host sister is more of a pro than I am.  She'll just squeeze a fruit and be like, "ope, not ripe," and I'm just staring at her like "HOW DO YOU KNOW THIS?"  So far I've just taken it to be that fruit are ripe when they're wrinkly.

I've learned how to eat fruit properly here.  I wasn't a savage before, but apparently there's a posh way to eat an apple with a knife and a fork.  It's good to know for the future, if I ever have a dinner with my boss or something, but I think that if that were ever to pass, I'd just decline eating a fruit at all.

wait...that's not right

Anyways, I now know how to eat grapefruits with spoons.  I don't, since using a knife is easier, but at least I know.  I learned what a passion fruit was, before it was just the weird perfume of my mom's shampoo, and the weird flavor of yogurt.  Pineapples are tolerable in other situations than as a pizza topping.  Bananas that are overly ripe can be set on fire with rum and coated with sugar.

perfect

The Songs :: Les Chansons

The nice thing about being able to speak another language is that it opens you to another world of music.  Lyrics in French are so much prettier, one because it's a language made for rhyming (unlike English, our language is all kinds of mixed up), and two because being able to understand songs in another language is wonderful.

C'est un nouveau monde

I mean, that's what I assume it's like, since I really don't understand French songs at all.  At least, not until I look up the French lyrics, then go to Google Translate, then read back and forth between the terrible English translation and the original.  By that point, the person who wanted to show me the song is awkwardly waiting around while I stare at my iTouch screen.

It's even worse when the Internet here is not working (because of some regional project where the government is changing all of the electrical cables), and the waiting time drags itself out even longer.

That memory is useless without WiFi

When the songs aren't sentimental at all, it's totally fine.  My host brother showed me a...crass, I suppose, French song that totally mocks the idea of a "French lover."  So far, the songs he's shown me make way more fun of the idea of dating than any song I've heard in the USA.

Then again, I wouldn't take what I hear in France as a good generalization, considering how the people that are showing me French songs, my host family, have more American music than I do on their iTunes account.

My iTunes account is remarkably outdated.  I decided that it was pathetic that French people know more about American classics and hit songs than I do, so I finally hooked up my iTouch to the computer a few weeks ago.

When I plugged in my iTouch, I got the whole bar at the top of iTunes that said it was going to take four hours.  Now, I was considerably worried about that, considering the sketchy internet.  My host brothers told me to not worry about it, that the estimated time changed all the time.

They were right.  After about seven times where it got cut, ranging between two to five hours, I got lucky, and the estimated time became only 15 minutes.  I got so excited, maybe I could finally stop hunching over the computer and squinting at the time estimation, praying for it to diminish.

maybe if I stare at it harder, it'll go faster

Nope, no dice.  With a couple minutes left to go, the internet cut off again and BAM six hours became the new estimation time.

completely acceptable behavior

At that point I just gave up and read a book.  At least those don't blank out whenever there's a problem with the printing industry.

The Baby :: Le Bébé

There's something about going to another country that makes you feel like a wailing, dependent stomach.  Forget the brain, just gluttony all the time. Today my host sister made a marbled chocolate heaven of a cake, and I forced myself to drink from my water bottle instead.

just so much sucking

Though I can convey my sentiments now (it only took me, like, two months), I would never chance asking for emancipation in France.  Not that I would've in the USA, but there's something about going to another country that makes me feel younger.

inside are all the languages you don't know

It's like I'm going through another childhood again.  At the beginning, I could not be left alone in the town.  Now, I'm navigating around my city like I have a map in my hand (and I do).  Then again, it is a small city.  Point is, my host parents believe that I won't get lost anymore.

Not that they were holding my hand and coddling me before.  Maybe it's just me, but I feel like everyone in France thinks I'm...naïve.

I'd attribute it to several reasons, of which I have dissected throughly and completely.  Primarily, I cannot, of course, demonstrate my vast internet-thesaurus-cultivated-vocabulary and knowledge, nor my mentally facilitated remarkable intelligence that I do indeed have in my possession, that I developed over my, admittedly not exceedingly long, lifetime, when I talk, like, um...bad-ly???

It's probably because of that one time someone made an dirty joke in class, and I didn't understand.  Actually, that happens with most jokes.  Anyways, my friends always have to rephrase the jokes with small words for me.  Or they don't even bother with the sexual ones.

"we'll tell you when you're as old as we are"

It most likely comes from the fact that I always have to ask what something is.  In that case, people tend to think that I don't know what ____ is, when in fact, I just don't know the word for ____ in French.

I'm sure that people also tend to think I'm incapable of doing anything.  I might be because of the time I tried to take something out of the oven for my host mom...and I burned my arm.  

I need to be protected under lock and key from the harsh, cruel world

Another example: I told my friend that after I went back to the USA, I was going to take, like, 4 AP classes (after explaining what an AP class was).  

"(American) college classes are so easy!!"

Either that, or she thinks I'm a fool for attempting all those hard classes.  If the twirly-finger-next-to-ear meant crazy in France, I'm sure she would've made the gesture.  As it is, that gesture means remembering.  The gesture for insane in France is literally poking your finger at your temple.  

....and they think I'm silly

La Série

In France, the grades are counted backwards.  I was incredibly confused the first week here, since I kept hearing that I was in première, and I thought that I was in seconde, but then someone mentioned terminale.

Just to explain, in USA terms:
Senior :: Terminale <- year "zero"
Junior :: Première 
Sophomore :: Seconde <-first year of high school
Freshman :: Troisième <- therefore in middle school

I thought I was going to be in the première year of high school, but here that's seconde.  I'm actually in première, which is the second year in high school.  Can you see why I was confused?

a countdown to graduation

In general, students also choose a série in première too.  I'd call it a "major" in English, if only because it serves the same purpose as a major in college.

There are three predominant majors in France: littéraire (L), scientifique (S), and économique et social (ES).  I'm in L, so now all my classes are centered around the arts, history, and literature.  It's supposedly the easiest major, but I think it's harder than S, since I can't just plug a poem into a formula and get a fantastic, analytic essay.

"wait, that's not The Psychological Effect of Accents!!"

I'd call L the artistic party major, since most of my classmates aren't really studious, and there's practically no homework.  They want to become dancers, teachers, animators, stylists, or comedians in the future.  Don't dismiss L though, it's apparently a good choice for those that want to become lawyers too.

"I learned this dance move at the party last night!"

If I were to stay in France for longer than the school year, I'd probably have chosen S, since it supposedly opens the most doors in life.  For example, someone from L can't become a doctor, but someone from S can become a history teacher if they wanted.  Science is my forte anyways. 

I was thinking about being a doctor, but coming to France made me realize that I also like travelling to different countries and learning different languages.  My host mother also told me that being in business is better for traveling, since doctors don't really get to get out much.

the baby's mouth is sufficiently foreign

Then my host dad reminded me that doctors do get to go to other countries with organizations.  Usually with Red Cross or Doctors Without Borders, to countries that are in trouble.

those are all the countries RIGHT NOW that need help

As soon as I can, I'm going to sign up and go give medical expertise to people that need it.  I mean, first I have to become a doctor.

I have no idea how I'm going to get there

Egyptian Ratscrew :: La Bataille Corse

It was a while ago, but I was walking through the lobby of my high school (my friends call it the "airport" due to all the benches that are there) to get to the cafeteria.

I spotted a few of my friends playing a card game at one of the tables, so I put off eating to see if they were playing a fancy French game.

Well, you've already read the title, so you know it was Egyptian Ratscrew, and you know that they have a better name for it.

Corsican battle vs African rodents

I didn't recognize it at first, since they were playing another version.  In addition to sandwiches, and doubles, they had "addition equals ten" - basically, if there was a four and a six, you could slap it.

Joker :: Joker (such a weird word, I know)
King :: Roi
Queen :: Dame
Jack :: Valet

very important in French courts

Hearts :: Coeur
Diamonds :: Carreau 
Clubs :: Trêfle
Spades :: Pique

Card games aren't really common in France.  I don't  make this mistake a lot, but it does happen when I assume every French teenager, for example, plays cards as a time-killer when in fact, it's just a certain group of kids.

Some of my friends think that card games are for old people.  Some can't even think of three.  I wouldn't say that cards sell well in France.

not when they can print them

It was incredibly difficult to type this article.  Most likely because I haven't written for several weeks.  Maybe because my subconscious is raging at me for writing in English while I'm in France.

Ironically, I'm probably going to describe France much better after I leave it.  I have so many ideas, I just don't have the time to type them all.  At least not now.  Especially not long articles like before.