Am I French yet?

After moving my blog over to a different domain, and the utter nightmare that ensues whenever I try to do anything remotely technical, I am finally ready to get this blog on the road and keep you all informed about the absolute saga which is to be my year abroad. I think this may be a long one....

So, first things first- I'm a 3rd year English Literature student at Southampton. In my first year, maybe just over half way through, I decided that I would regret it for the rest of my life (dramatic by nature) if I gave up studying French. After many a stressful meeting with the French department (who I can guarantee think I am an absolute nutjob now), I decided to not change my degree to joint honors but instead to just take optional modules in French. And well, the rest is history...

I guess I made life ever so slightly hard for myself in deciding not to take a joint honors degree, as essentially I don't belong to the French department, and therefore finding somewhere to spend my year abroad was slightly on the difficult side. For me the year abroad wasn't something I had always planned, but after deciding it was something that I was interested in and looking into it, I was sold on the idea. I was given a choice of some incredible places; Canada, Tokyo, Germany and the USA... but for me, it was always going to be France. I don't know what it exactly is, besides having studied French for a long time and being incredibly passionate about the language, but there's also a certain charm about this place. I had never come across Aix-en-Provence before, but I had read a lot of Marcel Pagnol in both sixth form and university, and had always been intruiged by his beautiful descriptions of Provence. Given the choice of either Paris 8 (and being advised that 'In the nicest possible way, I'm going to be honest with you.. I'm not sure how well you'd cope on the outskirts of Paris...') I decided that after my track record of personal safety, losing things and losing myself, I'd probably be safer here in Aix. BEST DECISION OF MY LIFE.





I don't think I've ever been so terrified... leaving my cosy hotel room (and more importantly the kingsize bed and swimming pool) to get in a taxi which would bring me to my university accomodation. Absolutely terrified. But hey, I couldn't have been more wrong...

The most surprising thing was perhaps that I'm a minority... I was expected to be surrounded by a tonne of English students in my halls, but instead there's just me (described by someone as 'sounding like Hermione Granger'... brilliant...) and then a handful of Australian's, German's and Irish. How cultured. I wish I could say that this means I've not spoken any English, but hey- I'm helping those who don't have English as their native language...... right?! Halls in France are also completely different to those in England. After having spent my fresher year in a flat of 6 people, with a nicely sized kitchen and sufficient cooking equipment, I am now faced with one kitchen... for 50 students. All you can do is laugh. My room is, however, lovely... not at all like the horror stories of French accomodation that I had so meticulously read before coming. And the view from my window... well, all I can say is that waking up to a panoramic view of the mountains of Provence isn't too bad at all!

This really is a whirlwind tour of my first month, but I feel that it wouldn't be complete without mentioning the inevitable culture shock... a) in the form of going to uni in France (or atleast trying, I'm not sure if I could say I've actually conquered that mountain yet), b) la vie quotidienne of France in general, and c) trying to translate what other Anglophones are saying to you, if they don't come from England (Australia and Ireland, I'm talking about you).

Okay so, exhibit A: trying to attend university in France, when nobody in the university seems to want you to go to university in France. In England, it's the students who turn up late for class, or perhaps don't even turn up at all. In France, it's the lecturers. Impromptu day off, eh? That aside, life is so chilled out as a result, and I can't really complain about that.

Exhibit B: French people walk so slowly. R e a l l y s l o w. Not even just a stroll but actually so slow I sometimes wonder if they would be quicker to just crawl. I am now a pro at overtaking. Paper work is not, and will not, ever be a strong point of the French and you need a photocopy of EVERYTHING. I'm surprised no one has asked me for a photocopy of my face yet. That being said, whilst vitesse is not their strong point, les Aixois seem to have a certain friendliness that I don't think you would find any where else in France. Maybe it's the sun...

Perhaps my favourite, and the one that has made me laugh so much since I've been here, and I know will continue to entertain me until next May, is exhibit C: Language differences between English Speakers. I would go as far as to say that I've probably spent the majority of my time here trying to translate what other English speakers are saying, as opposed to what the French are saying. For example, if you ever hear the words 'FAR OUT' shouted, you're probably in arms reach of an Australian. Here's a brief lesson (and my favourites so far):

Far out = Dude, what the hell

Bogan (my new favourite word) = Someone who probably had children at a young age, with tacky hair, comes from an unsophisticated background and who lacks education. Warning: Do not ever call a non-Bogan Australian a Bogan (think the scene from Mean Girls where hell breaks lose in the hallway when Regina shows everyone the Burn Book. You have been warned).

Oh, and if you're trying to leave someone's house and you want to explain that 'you must go to bed now', you probably shouldn't use the verb 'coucher'... You probably won't be leaving any time soon if you do.

There is so much more to say, but for now this will suffice! Some more highlights thus far..











À bientôt!

A x