First few days of work

Tuesday was my first day of work, and really, you could’ve barely called it work. Cecile came to look for me at the train station. I may have not explained it before, but the family lives in a small town called Cap d’Ail, right next to Monaco (as in you walk 3 blocks and you’re IN Monaco). So to get there, I have to take the train or the bus from downtown Nice, either is a 10 minute walk from my apartment. She came to get me at the station, and since it was a gorgeous day out (24 degrees… how’s the weather in Vancouver??) we took the kids to a small park with inflatable jumping houses right on the beach- in Monaco. Cecile explained to me that since Iannis works there, and it’s closer than Nice, they spend a lot of time in Monaco for their shopping, going out to restaurants, etc.
Lisa, the little girl I look after, went to play in the castles (after her mom paid TWENTY EUROS to have her play there for 3 hours) while Cecile , the baby Sacha and I sat on a table in the restaurant next to the play area. We ordered Diet Cokes (She is also in love with it, sign from the universe I’m really really supposed to be here!), and sat in the Mediterranean sun, watching the ocean, and talking about each others’ lives. She’s a super amazing lady, who studied law and practiced it for 5 years before quitting after she had Lisa. It’s not really like they need the money, since Iannis has his own investment company and works with the Stock (and yes, is stressed right now with the crisis). But anyhow, it was so surreal for me to be sitting in a gorgeous sandy beach in Monaco, being paid to talk to this amazingly nice person, and with two super kids. Monaco is gorgeous, but a little overwhelming to the senses, since there are buildings everywhere. We definitely drove by the Montecarlo Casino, and saw the Prince Albert’s castle on the peak of one of the mountains. I will be going back with regularity, so don’t worry I’ll be telling you more about it. Iannis came to meet us for lunch, and then we went back to the apartment.
So far, I have really enjoyed being with the kids. Lisa is a firecracker of a 2 year old, and listening to her talk in her little French accent is the cutest thing ever. She likes to play doctor, cook (we made crepes together!), and anything artsy. Sacha, the baby, is an angel. He rarely cries, always laughs, and is happy just to be hanging out with all of us.
As predicted, I’ve definitely been exhausted after each day of work, not because it’s hard, but because it’s a big change from what I was doing in Nantes. I haven’t had any huge adventures, but I’m definitely just loving the atmosphere of the city, and having my independence again (I missed living alone!!). I went to the open air market today and bought fresh produce, fresh fish, cheese, olive oil, and bread… I wish I could take back all the amazing food to Canada! Annndd, the cheap wine. A good bottle of wine costs between 2.50-3 euros, so I’ve become quite a connoisseuse, and at a cheap price!
My new address is:

Maria Ruiz chez Bok Invest
10 Boulevard de Bouchage
Nice 06000
France

Hope to get mail soon, so I can use my new mail key!

The first couple days in Cote d'Azur

The bags have been packed and unpacked, the train ridden, the welcome at the station given, and now I’m sitting peacefully in my internet-less apartment, writing the my blog’s draft on Microsoft Word, so I can post it later. It was a wonderful last week in Nantes. After all my trials and tribulations at the start, I ended up being quite happy in that city, and very blessed and fortunate to have met the people that I met. My life in the past year has felt like a constant parade of goodbyes, and unlike everything else in life, they don’t get easier with practice! I was definitely sad to leave my French family, as they had been nothing but wonderful with me. And, I made some good friends at the University that I will strive to maintain in touch with. But, life goes on, I had many open doors waiting for me in Nice, and ultimately, I’m convinced I made the right decision.

Leaving for Nice Sunday morning, I found myself with a knot in my stomach, and with the same fast heartbeat and lack of appetite I had when I was coming to France. After a tearful goodbye at the Gare, I rode the train to Marseille, and then to Nice. It was really beautiful to see the change of scenery from the Northern flatlands, giving way to rolling hills, and finally turning into the craggy Alps of the south. My train wagon was nearly empty for over 80% of the trip, but knowing my luck, I had to have the only seat where someone else was sitting next to me. It so happened that it was a woman who had apparently never heard of deodorant, or showers, perhaps. It was a lovely experience to sit next to someone like that for about 4 hours.

I arrived at the gare with my multitude of bags, and the Bokkias family was waiting for my with huge smiles on their faces. Lisa, the little girl, had a “Bienvenue Maria” card, and it melted all my nerves away. We piled into their “station wagon” (I use quotation marks because I think it’s a travesty to call any car from the brand Mercedes a station wagon) and rode 5 short minutes to my apartment. My neighbourhood is one of the nicest ones in downtown Nice, it’s a grand boulevard lined with olive and palm trees. The buildings are all beautiful, with live colours, and very clean. Iannis, who had conveniently forgotten to mention it before, told me that my building used to be the old Russian Tsar’s residence in the 1890s. It was a 3 story mansion, which was converted into this 5 story apartment building in the 1930s. That’s when Iannis’ grandmother bought the place, and it’s been in the family since. It was un-inhabited for 3 years, until Iannis and Cecile decided to take on an AuPair, and voila, now it’s my home. The building has a grand marble staircase, and an old-fashioned elevator that can fit about 2.5 people in it. I love it!!

Cecile and Iannis spent the last two weeks tweaking and working on the apartment, and it really shows. The paint is fresh and crisp, the wooden floors waxed (original parquet wooden floors from the 30s!), and I even have a brand new duvet and duvet cover, and linens. The double bed is a welcome change from my little single bed in Nantes, which had a horrendous mattress. The other room is a dining/tv/living room with a table for four, and a bed-made-sofa for watching TV. I also have the nicest television I have ever had in any of my former abodes- a SHARP flat screen. Don’t ask me how many inches, all I know is that it’s pretty.. hahahah.

Sunday night was spent unpacking a bit, and going to bed early, since I had woken up early and had been traveling all day long. Monday I had off, so I could ease into the routine. I unpacked the rest of my stuff, and went exploring with my camera, since I had no pics. Nice is definitely a grittier, tougher city than Nantes, or even Paris. From the few cities that I visited in the North, I found them all to be very proper, and their architecture sharp and clean. Nice is the opposite… if Paris is your mom, where you go for comfort, Nice is your mistress, where you go for pleasure. The streets are lined with cafes, restaurants, live music, and people are warm and welcoming.The rugged peaks as its background, the city is filled with noisily colourful buildings, sporting hanging lines of clothes waving in the wind. Ladies dressed to the nines and walking all sorts of yappy little dogs seem to be the norm… as is their poop on the sidewalk. Apparently Mediterranean French have never heard of scooping.

Walking around downtown, I heard every language imaginable, except French. I heard a lot of English from England, some Spanish, and definitely Italian. The food displayed at bakeries and restaurants is deliciously Mediterranean, with lots of fresh herbs, tomatoes, olive oil, and fish.

Tomorrow is my first day of work… I think I’ll be completely fatigued by the end of the day, since I haven’t been used to working. My French courses start really soon also, so I’ll be busy right from the start. This is most excellent, since I’ll have no time to sulk around about not knowing anyone yet. But, I’m sure friends will come quickly when I start my classes… and when all of you come to see me in my sweet pad here in the French Riviera.

That’s all for now, folks!

Hi all, just a quick post to say that I have arrived in Nice safe and sound. I have nointernet, and no telephone yet, so Im kind of in limbo and restricted to using internet cafes ahere the owners dont wear deodorant, there's rows of teenagers playing internet games, and the damn keyboards ,ess you up with their mixed up letters. Mais bon, everything else is stellar. My apartment is beautiful, huge, and posh, and so is my neighbourhood. I will post pics and tell more as soon as I can. And remember, just because I can't use the internet, doesn't mean that YOU can't use YOURS to leave me loving messages about how much you miss me. Word.

Monkey on my shoulder: The French Bureaucracy

So, as previously mentioned, I'm going to Nice. To get to Nice, there are two options, you fly ($$$$$) or you train it ($$). Since I'm a low-maintenance gal, I bought a train ticket for Saturday the 25th, for 100 Euros. Making use of the wonderful advances in modern technology, I used my bank card (which here in France allows you to make online transactions like a credit card, very convenient!), and agreed to pick up the ticket at the train station (from now on, referred to as the SNCF or bastards).

A few days before I was due to pick up my ticket, I had the misfortune of losing my bank card. No big deal, it's replaceable, and aside from the mild headache of my account being frozen for a couple days until I got the replacement, it's a problem with a solution. So, I asked the bank to give me a statement which proved that I had, indeed, paid for my ticket, so I could pick it up. Armed with this, and my passport as my ID, I went to the SNCF to get my train tickets that I had already paid for. Little did I know, that the universe was conspiring against me through the form of French bureaucracy.

I'm not sure if I've alluded to this particular phenomenon before in my blogs, but let me just regale how delightful this FB is. Firstly, the French don't believe in saving the world one tree at a time. For them, the more documents, photocopies of documents, photocopies of photocopies, translations, photocopies of translations, receipts, attestations on your honour, Hallmark cards, and all other forms of paper, the happier they will be. Never, never, ever plan on finishing one affair or errand on one day, because you will inevitably be required to bring more documents, more photocopies, and more papers. Also, you NEVER, ever, break the rules. You never tweak the process, alter the order of steps to follow, bypass any parts, or Heaven forbid, override any component of the procedue. Too easy for you? Okay, let's add another obstacle to this race. Offices, institutions, and all other buildings that provide a service (minus restaurants, and you'll see why in a second) are always closed either 1, 1.5 or in some cases 2 hours between 1130-130 on weekdays. The French Lunch Hour is as sacred as their devotion to baguettes and football. So if you're ever in a really big rush to do something between the hours mentioned above, forget about it. It will not get done. You might as well go and sit with the throngs of workers who have left their offices to go have a glass of Muscadet with their lunch.

Okay, so now that you have a better personality profile of FB, I can continue with my story. I've been dealing with the bank since 10:30 am. When I went to the SNCF to reclaim my ticket, they told me it was IMPOSSIBLE to get it without the original card it was purchased with. This is to say, that inspite of my account being debited already, a transaction number, and official documentation from my bank, I had no right to my train ticket. The lady I was speaking with was not at the real train station, but just at an auxiliary branch they have downtown. Thinking that this was a "pawn" , I decided to go to the real train station and sort things out. But then, I looked at my watch, and saw that I wouldn't be able to do anything, because it was the FLH (French Lunch Hour).

So, after a mild cry in the middle of the street (yes, yes, I cry when I get frustrated, got a problem with that?) I went to meet my lovely Colombian friend Walfa, who is like my surrogate mom here. She calmed me down, fed me lunch, and accompanied me to the SNCF. After talking to 4 people, we had the same answer, pretty much to the same word ( I swear, they must have a script), I had to resort to plan B. Plan B included cancelling my original ticket, and getting my money reimbursed into my account, searching for another train ticket online, not finding another one for the same date OR price, and having to buy the second one for 30 euros more, and one day after I had planned to leave.

Complaining about it won't do me any good now, after all, I'm still going to Nice. But, all I could think of yesterday was how ridiculous this whole experience was, how SET in their protocol everyone was, and how not one single person could, after paying my 100euros, get me the freaking tickets... C'est incroyable!!!

A Cinderella Castle Weekend

On Saturday morning, at 7:05am, I left the train station for my second French weekend adventure. The destination was Tours, a city 2 hours East of Nantes, in the heart of the Loire Valley. This time, I wasn't braving out the French countryside on my own, but managed to recruit Daniel (or rather, he recruited me. Credit should be given where it's due!) and we set out for a castle, wine, and sunshine-filled two days. Before we left, there was some commotion in the train station, as a group of 3 guys got into a bit of a fight with one of the guards and some other dude. We didn't know what the fight was all about, because they were screaming and talking really fast, but they kept saying "c'est fou! c'est fou!", which means "it's crazy, it's crazy!" It sure was! I was a little scared, but things seemed to get under control, and we made it to the platform without having to give any testimony to the police.

The train ride was uneventful, spent with Daniel sleeping (from this point on, you will see that phrase very often. He's a bit of a chronic napper... no offense Dan). At St. Pierre de Corps, we transferred to another train. At first, I thought there was a misprint on the train ticket, because it said the second train ride was 5 minutes long... but no, it was true. We got onto this ghetto-looking train, which I'm sure used to be part of the New York subway fleet, and rode 5 minutes into the Gare de Tours. Since it was too early for our check-in, we thought we would ask the hotel owner to let us put our bags away at the front desk so that we could wonder around the city without carrying our luggage. However, our room was ready when we got there, and we were lucky to be able to put our things in the room.

The hotel was a charming place, an ancient house, re-made into a budget hotel. It had a winding staircase, vintage wall paper, and creaky wooden floors. Our room was at the very top, on the third floor, and so cute. After lounging around for a little while ( we did get up at 5:30am), we went to the Tourism Office to book our afternoon Chateau tour. The one that we had initially scoped out, with 3 castles and a wine tour was booked up, so we had to settle for 2 of the most famous castles, with the possibility of wine tasting at Chambord. After paying for that, we went searching for a place to eat, since we were both ravenous. We found a delicious restaurant that served plentiful portions of Mussels cooked in white wine and herbs. En suite, we paid a visit to the market, which is always a pleasure. We loaded up on snacks for the afternoon, and off we went.

Our guide was a really nice French guy named David. He was supposed to be speaking English because we had a Brazilian couple with us who spoke no French, but because I kept pestering him with questions in French, he spoke to me in French too. The van ride was about an hour, in which we passed a few chateaus from the outside, and I brushed up on my history with the driver's help while Dan slept. I was informed that the Loire Valley is host to a little over THREE THOUSAND CASTLES, about half of them fortresses from the Middle Ages, and the other half from the Renaissance and 19th century. 30% of these chateaux are public, which means they're owned by the French government, and used as historical patrimony sites, as well as a comfy source of income from the thousands of tourists. The other 70% are privately owned, passed down from bloodlines of the past, or owned by extravagant millionaires. Most of these private ones are either homes to the world-famous Loire Valley wineries, or they're hunting chateaus, a very popular past time even in present-day France.

We arrived at Chambord first. This was King Francois' I second abode, when he wasn't gallavanting with his mistress at Chaunecy, another castle nearby. It is the largest and most luxurious chateau of the Loire Valley, and by default, the largest and most luxurious after Versailles in Paris. Francois I was a young king, who died at 25, caught up in a 5-way bloodline feud for the throne of France. True to French king fashion, his ego was barely contained by the humongous castle, and he sought to make the architecture a homage to his greatness. The castle has 365 chimneys, a futile attempt to keep the place warm. When you have a castle that can host a court of 10,000 people, made in limestone and marble, there are no chimneys that will save you from the winter's cold. As a result, no king could ever spend more than 4 months in a row in the castle. Another important landmark of the castle is its double-helix staircase, designed by Leonardo DaVinci himself. The staircase is a masterpiece of Renaissance architecture. Dan went up one side, while I went the other, and we never met, unless we got off at the same landing... even so, by the time we circled around to meet the other, we could've easily run away. Rumour has it, the staircase was built so that Francois could bring his mistresses whenever he pleased, and they could never accidentally run into the queen while going up or down.

Chambord is also host to France's largest natural reserve, a huge forest spanning for 2000 acres. It is a hunter's paradise, and the fall is prime hunting season. David told us it used to be an exclusive hunting club, where the likes of Jacques Chirac used to hunt. Now, it's open to anyone with a hunting licence. Dan's of the opinion that to make it a fair game, hunters should only be allowed to use bow and arrows....

After awing in the extravagance of the castle, we purchased some wine ( and tasted some too.. obviously!) and moved on to the next chateau, Chauverny. This one is an example of a private chateau. It hosted many generations of officials who worked for the French royalty, and nowadays, a wing of the castle is closed to the public because the Marquis still lives there with his family. Chauverny is much smaller compared to Chambord, but still exquisite in its decor. The walls were draped in Spanish leather and Italian Silk, and there are portraits from important French painters, as well as from Italian Renaissance master Raphael.

We were tired from a lot of walking, and we BOTH slept on the way back to Tours. Back in the city, we had aperitifs in our room (Loire Valley wine, of course), got snazzed up in our fancy clothes, and went out to have dinner. Dan, in true adventurous fashion, ordered frog legs for his appetizer, and I tried some. They were really really delicious... "the best chicken I've ever had".

Sunday was a more relaxed day, where we explored the city with our cameras, strolling leisurely. The day was gorgeous, and we got all the vitamin D that we needed. Mid-morning, we felt like having a coffee, so we walked into the most peculiar place. We thought it was a regular cafe, but we realized by the dog under the table, and the friendly crowd ( who shook our hands when we walked in) that this was no ordinary coffee house. It was called a "communitary" cafe, which I'm sure is slang for hippy. There were board games though, so we sat down, and Dan took onto the patient task of teaching me to play Chess (anyone who's ever taught me anything knows I ask a lot of questions... and anyone who survives that gets a golden medal for patience!). After a few more handshakes from the people in the cafe, a proposal to help me win by another patron, and an unfinished chess game, we left hippy-land to explore the rest of the city. Lunch was at the Place Plummerau, in the old side of town. The rest of the town was spent snapping pics of the city, and relaxing.

Back in Nantes, after such a fun weekend, it's dawned on me, that I leave for Nice in 4 days. YIKES. I've been so excited thinking about all the perks that I'm going to have, that I've barely had time to reflect on what LIFE is going to be like. I'm sure that after 2 months of taking it easy here in Nantes, and enjoying life, the shock of working 25 hours a week, and going to class will be something to get used to. Also, I've built some good friendships here in this city, and I'm sad to leave them behind. I'll be back to spending time by myself for the first little while. But I think now that I've done it once, I can prepare myself mentally for the change, and be a little more relaxed about it. I'm a little nervous, but mostly excited! Packing will commence on Thursday of this week, and my evenings are all taken up with social engagements... i.e. goodbye soirees with drinking, French, and good times.

Okay, I'm finishing this essay, it's way too long. Thank you for sticking with me until the end!
My next blog post will be from Nice, stay tuned :)

My 2 Cents on the World Financial Crisis

Heading to Rennes, I was reading the French paper Ouest France. The editorial piece talked about the bailout plan that the European Union is planning to inject cash flow into the disproportionate debt of American and some European banks, in order to salvage this wreck called our economy. The amount: 1000 billion dollars. With astounding ease, and surprising speed, this amount was unblocked and ready for use to help those banking giants of the USA get out of the mess our credit-happy Western world is creating.

Inevitably, a sum like the one above leads one to think firstly, of where this money is coming from with such ease, and secondly, why is it so easily available during a financial crisis of the rich, but never to bail out the poor? The answer to the first question lies in the complicated lending system of Central Banks to other banks. The electronic games these institutions play everyday with deposits, withdrawals, transfers, and loans are nothing but numbers, that don't really affect the liquid totals of money in Central Banks. Each country, like they do with their petroleum, never really tell how much they have in their Central Banks, rendering the guessing game a nearly impossible one. But, when a situation like the one today arises, it is necessary for these institutions to drop their veil of secrecy and pump out some of their exorbitant reserves.

Countries and their leaders are all for using these sources of cash, as we have seen in the past two weeks, where everyone from India, China and Europe is scrambling to salvage the financial market. But as bankers jump from buildings, and people in the states lose their homes, we fail to see that this money being put into a capitalist market could have just as easily appeared for the millions of starving humans in our world today. For example, if the European Union were to invest 30 billion (less than 1% of what they've pumped into the US economy in the last week) every year, they could insure that 923 million people in the world, who go hungry everyday, receive the basic alimentation they need to survive.

Yet, where is this money going? It is going into saving a Capitalist system that focuses on instant gratification. The western "go happy with credit" society will buy anything, at anytime no matter if they are going into negatives in their accounts. Yet, it's this greed for posession and "well-being" that supports over 60% of markets in the world. Consumer and commodity goods have replaced basic necessities such as milk and bread in the revenue ladder of world markets. So, world governments are happy to dish out the dough that will temporarily stop the crash of a failed easy-credit system. But, we still have close to one billion people in the world with nothing in their stomachs.

Don't get me wrong, I'm not advocating for a socialist system where no one purchases nothing, and we all share our crops. I'm all for spending my GST tax at LeChateau. But, as responsible citizens, we have to advocate for the intelligent and socially-responsible spending of our country's money into causes that are really worth fighting for. It's hard to know where to start from... I myself have no solutions, but I just wanted to share my reflections with you. I know elections just passed, but it's never too late to pressure our government to become more actively involved financially into the markets that really matter- not crude oil, or technology, but the market of humanity.
That's my 2 cents on the financial crisis...

Rennes and Thanksgiving

Another week, another blog! This last week was very enjoyable. Just as I published my blog about the rain in Nantes, the skies decided to open up and let a gorgeous sun come out for 5 days in a row. I took advantage of Apollo's chariot to ride my bike, have picnics at the park, read outside, and plan an impromptu visit to the city of Rennes.

Rennes is the capital of Brittany. It's a smaller city, of 140,000. The trains that go there are TERs, which are regional trains, as opposed to the TGVs that cover longer distances. So, instead of going 280kms/hr like I did when I went to Paris, I traded for a slower version going at 170kms/hr. I have decided that apart from the frequent stops, voyaging by train really is the best way to travel in France. You travel comfortably, at very reasonable prices ( I get a 60% discount when I reserve in advance just for being under 25), and you arrive at the very heart of the city. Perfect for tourism!

I arrived at the gare in Nantes at 9:30am, and settled into my seat with a croissant, a coffee, and newspaper. After what felt like 20 stops later (I swear, there were little stations EVERYWHERE, and we had to stop the train at ALL of them), I finally arrived at downtown Rennes at 11:45am. When I got out of the train, I realized that I had left my map of the city at home. So what did I do, you ask? Well, I decided to not freak out, and just wing it. I started walking, and decided I would go wherever the road would take me...it's not like I was in a metropolis of 20 million. I know, I live life on the edge.. hahaha

Even though it's only 2 hours away, it's incredible how much the feel and architecture changes from city to city. Rennes is famous for its timbered houses, dating back from the Middle Ages. The city's old downtown is charming at every turn of a corner. The houses with different coloured wood planks, crisscrossing on the facades give the streets a cozy, narrow feeling. Some of them are crooked, and leaning into each other, giving you a slight feeling of being inside one of Dr. Seuss' stories. The whole time I was exploring, I was looking up at the facades, which makes for a dangerous hobby, since I almost crashed onto oncoming people and poles more than once.

The city is also host to the Portes Mordelaises, the last vestiges of the city walls from the Middle Ages. To be there and touch those 700 year old walls is very exciting for a History geek like me. I actually took a picture of my hand on the bricks (you can check out the pics here http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2102307&l=6e2a0&id=122504569)
After a couple hours of aimless wondering, I got hungry, and decided to splurge on a nice meal at a nice restaurant. I had baked oysters for the entree, a fish cassoulet for the plat principal, and a pineapple crepe for dessert. After that, I visited the parliament building, which was burnt down in the 1700s and re-built exactly the same 2 years after. Since the sun was shining, and the benches were so inviting, I laid down for a good half hour, just enjoying the peaceful surroundings, and resting from all the walking.

On my way back to downtown, I stopped at the Musee des Beaux Arts. I had heard they had a good collection of 18th century French paintings that I wanted to check out. Unfortunately, the paintings wing was closed due to reparations, so I had to settle for a tour of the Egyptian and Greek artifacts wing, and the French sculpture patio. On the plus side, since some of the museum was closed, I only had to pay 1 euro for the entrance :)

There was an accordion festival going on downtown, so I enjoyed listening to some Breton accordion, and later on to a Celtic bagpipe from an excentrically dressed man. As the time was arriving for me to leave, I walked to the train station, and took the train back to Nantes. Watching a gorgeous sunset outside the window, I had the chance to reflect on the pros and cons of traveling alone:
Pros:
1) You don't have to follow anyone's agenda but your own. You can linger for as long as you want in the Victorian antique lace and doilie store (or whatever you fancy) without anyone throwing furtive looks at their watches, or impatiently tapping their foot.
2) You don't have to worry about entertaining someone on the train, plane, etc. If you want to sleep, do it. If you want to read, do it. If you want to make a royal ass of yourself, do it, knowing that no one will be embarassed that you do.
3) You get lots of time for self-reflection. You know, to ponder about things like the world economic crisis (see following blog post), what colour to paint your toenails, and how many situps you have to do to counteract the pineapple crepe you had for dessert...
4) Helps you grow and become stronger and more self-reliant, as well as learning how you react to situations when there's no other people around. Metacognition!!
5) You never have to carry anyone else's stuff.
6) You never have to be seen with someone who wears ridiculous clothing when they travel. This includes moo-moos, "Canada girls kick ass" t-shirts, ugly animal print, CROCS, sandals with socks, tiger-head t-shirts from the 8th grade, and other fashion monstrosities.
7) You may wear moo-moos, "Canada girls kick ass" t-shirts, ugly animal print, CROCS, sandals with socks, tiger-head t-shirts from the 8th grade, and other fashion monstrosities without anyone criticizing.

Cons:
1) You never have someone to take your picture, this often results in the awkward approach to a local (or other tourist), in which you exchange a polite conversation asking to take a picture with the monument/sight/famous building/street name that is the same as yours. With this option, you run the risk of getting ugly pictures b/c you're too embarassed to ask for a re-take. Not to mention, the friendly local/tourist may be a thief looking to run away with your camera. Bastards.
2) You have no one with you to help you make fun of other people.
3) You have no one to drag with you to the "romantic tour for 2" of the city's castles/gardens/river, etc.
4) No one's helping you with your luggage!
5) No one will bail you out from the annoying male/female who is hitting on you on the town square, and who will just NOT take the hint that no, in fact, you don't want a personalized tour of the city's biker bars.
6) Meal times are always spent alone :(
7) There's no one to split things 50/50 with.

So after a lovely and productive train ride of much thinking and list making, I arrived at Nantes, ready for a night out on the town. My friend Dan, from my class, had accepted to go salsa dancing with me. He brought along 4 other Americans, and after a drink to "lubricate the joints" as Dan calls it, we headed to Casa Canne. I gave group-wide lessons of salsa, merengue, bachata and reggaeton, and we had a total blast... not to mention that my students are now resident experts on all Latin dances. I'm that awesome.

After such an agitated 24 hours, I sure would've loved to sleep in. But since I was hosting the first ever French-Colombian-Canadian-American Thanksgiving, I had to make do with 6 hours of sleep.This was my first time cooking a whole Thaksgiving dinner by myself, so I was very excited, but also nervous to screw things up (in spite of my excellent cooking skills.. hahaha) Prep started at 1pm, and at 3:30 the help came. Dan, who has no idea about Canadian thanksgiving, gave me a hand with some of the cooking. At 7pm we had aperitifs with the family, as well as Melanie, a friend of Pauline's from her faculty. Dinner was a lovely, drawn out affair, where we enjoyed roasted chicken, stuffing, gravy, roasted garlic mashed potatoes, glazed carrots and green beans, brussel sprout casserole with wine and parmiggiano, and a made-from-scratch pumpkin pie. Dan had brought us a delicious wine to have with dinner, and we all laughed, talked, and even sang while practicing our French. If you haven't seen pics yet, go here:
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2102330&l=f8b69&id=122504569
It was so nice to be able to share a little bit of home with this family who has shown me so much of the French life.

All in all, a perfect weekend! I hope you all had a chance to share it with your family and friends too! Oh, and on a side note: I am instilling a new Thanksgiving custom: since my French family didn't know what Thanksgiving was all about, they thought maybe we gave each other presents. So they got me a beautiful necklace, as my Thanksgiving gift, and also to thank me for making dinner, and sharing it with them. I was very touched, and had a little tear in my eye ( yeah, b/c it's so hard for me to cry...) So, in future years, if you're coming to my house for Thanksgiving.. dont' forget your present for the cook!
Until next time!

The big "N"

Let's start talking about the rain. In Nantes, very much like Vancouver, it rains 3 or 4 days a week, and 2 or 3 times a day every time it rains. A saying here: "It's beautiful outside more than once a day", which means, every time it stops raining in a day, it's considered beautiful weather.
My umbrella has become a permanent fixture inside my purse, to the point where if I left my wallet home, instead of my umbrella, it would be no big deal.

Nantes is still beautiful in the rain. The drops falling on the River Erdre and the Cathedral give the city a serene and peaceful ambiance. Contrarily, the way it rains in Nantes is quite chaotic. The drops never fall in a vertical manner,neatly onto the shelter of my little green umbrella, but rather in a disarrayed chaos of horizontal showers, diagonal curtains, and even upside down sprays. As a result, I have become quite the expert in yielding my umbrella like a Samurai's sword: in swift strokes, slightly changing the angle at every turning corner, anything to avoid the demented raindrops that are out to get me no matter what. This uneven falling of water often results in bizarre patches of wet: a left shoulder and a right shin completely soaked, while the rest of me is completely dry. Quite an adventure, this rain.

You might be wondering why I picked the rain as my opening topic, and moreover, why I spent 2 paragraphs speaking about it. Well, that's because, I won't have to put up with it anymore...
That's right Ladies and Gents, I'm leaving Nantes. I'm moving to NICE!!! (Please, I'm begging from now on, don't make any lame "oh Nice is so nice" jokes) I had been toying around with the idea for a few weeks now, since I was contacted by a family who lives in Nice, offering me an AuPair job (no, not out of thin air- I know I'm awesome and everyone wants to work with me. I subscribed to an AuPair agency search thing on the internet that I got from the University). They seemed like a lovely family, young parents, a 2 year old girl, and a 5 month old baby. I struggled with my decision for a while, since my very responsible, organized, side was telling me to stay where I had planned to stay since the beginning. But really, that side of me usually gets its way too often, and I don't give enough credit to my more adventurous, carefree side. So, deciding to root for the underdog, I made the administrative rounds at the university, met with the family, and voila. I'm leaving October 25th!

Let me explain a little bit better what an AuPair usually does. She lives with the family in their household, and takes care of the kids for a maximum of 30 hours a week, as regulated by the French government. In exchange for her services, she is given Room and Board, she is given time to take French courses, and she is given a weekly stipend of a minimum 65 Euros. There are horror stories out there about au pairs turning into the house servants, working overtime, and having to share a room with the kids... Naturally, I would never consider a position like that. This family is the JACKPOT of AuPairing. This is my official job description:

1) I do NOT live with the family. Instead, I get my very own 2 bedroom apartment in downtown Nice. Walking distance from the University. Walking distance from the beach. Walking distance from the bus and tram. Walking distance from the Outdoor Market.

2) I have access to their 2nd vehicle, to drive the kids when needed, as well as one night a week when I do late night babysitting, so I can drive home and not have to take transportation at night.

3) I get way more than the average weekly stipend, with 100 Euros/week

4) In addition to the meals I have with the kids at home, I get 150 Euros to buy food for my other meals.

5) Did I mention I get my own apartment?

6) They pay for half my courses from now until December, and my full courses from January-May.

7) I get 3 days off a week.

8) I will be living 25 minutes away from Monaco, 45 minutes away from Cannes, 2hr ferry ride away from Corsica, and next door to Italy.

9) I may have mentioned it before... but I get my own apartment!

SO really, I would've been a fool not to take it. The French Riviera is one of the most expensive places to live in in the world, and I will be enjoying all its glitz, glam, and gorgeousness (not a word, I know) for practically free.

It's funny, even though I'm approaching 7 weeks of being in France, I feel like my real adventure isn't starting until now. I'm glad things worked out this way though, because here in Nantes, I've been able to really think and know what it is that I want to get from this year abroad. When I was sitting at the airport in Vancouver, I was kind of numbed, not really expecting a whole lot other than to learn French. But these 7 weeks have opened my eyes to the possibilites for growth, adventure, and change from the mundane that this trip is affording me. In a way, I'm glad that this time in Nantes has been calmer and more relaxed, as it's allowed me to ease into a more open mindframe, and be ready to make this year another notch in my belt of successes.
It goes without saying, that now that I'll have an apartment, you're all more than welcome to come and visit. There's plenty of room for all of us :)

As for the latest tales, there's not too much to tell. The French continues to improve day by day, and I've surprised myself a couple times having deep and meaningful conversations, and not really having to think too much about what I'm saying. I think in another 7 weeks, the talking and thinking in French will be automatic! Very exciting! I was given quite a compliment the other day. A French friend (her name is Justine) told me that I had the "Penelope Cruz accent of French". I was SO flattered, because I've always been jealous of Penelope Cruz's spanish accent when she speaks English. I think it's the most adorable thing ever... and now apparently I have it when I speak French. Oh-la-la.

There have been a couple nights of debauchery, both with my new French friends. I met a dude at the library about 3 weeks ago, his name is Geric, and we agreed to help each other, I'd help him with his Spanish, adn he would help me with my French. He's introduced me to his little group of friends, and we've all had a blast. I've always been a beleiver that the best way to get to know a culture is to drink with the people from it... so far I'm right! But, the Frenchies definitely drink me under the table, they have such a tolerance for alcohol, I don't think I could ever develop anything similar without acquiring liver cihrrosis in the process. So I'm not going to try :) (Don't worry mom and dad, I'm not becoming an alcoholic).

I hope I can find a cool little group like this one when I move to Nice too. The "I'm foreign and I want to learn French" face and eyes seem to break the ice everytime! hehehe
As a last note, I've acquired Skype, so any of you who have it, let me know and we can talk. I will keep you all updated on the rest of my trip preparations!
Missing all of you :)
Biz,
Maria