Angers Management

Graduate School!

2010-08-25T05:12:00.003+02:00

Hey all,

Graduate School orientation has begun, and things are pretty fun, if intense. The weather has been very hot and humid here in Madison, WI, and it is finally starting to cool down a little bit. I'm hoping we have a cool, sunny Fall before the snow hits! We'll see.

I wanted to let my reader(s) know that I'll be taking a break from the blog for a little bit. My amount of free time has dropped significantly, and will likely go down much more once the year starts. I am also concerned about what I can and cannot say here: again, I find myself negotiating between the private and public, and worrying about the sensitivity of the things I post on this very public blog is a source of stress that I'm not prepared to nourish. Which isn't to say that blogging should be a source of stress: on the contrary!

...thus begins my hiatus. I look forward to coming back some time and writing with gusto and abandon!

Best,
Ben

PS: For those interested, I will still be updating the "What I'm Reading" part of the blog, just to the left of this post.

Private Parts

2010-08-10T09:25:00.004+02:00

In the last few days, I've talked with various people about the difference between public and private. Technology, a huge factor in my generation and the following generation's social development, has changed the rules quite a bit concerning what is considered private and intimate and what is more public or open. Blurring the lines quite thoroughly are sites like Facebook and Twitter, but also devices such as the iPhone and digital cameras.

Playing petanque with my buddy Stephen, I had no qualms when it came to his taking pictures with his smart phone and uploading them to Facebook. On the contrary: I wanted our friends to see what they were missing out on! In our shoes, some of our friends may have even posted something on Twitter about just that. But it's not just our friends who are seeing the photos and tweets: it is our extended network, which can range from family to friends of friends all the way to employers. Hence the lively debates taking place in living rooms and on blogs such as this one about what shall be deemed "public" (fair game) and what shall be deemed "private" (off limits to employers/advertisers/strangers).

In our discussion, I brought up the point that instead of becoming restrictive in what I post to Facebook and being deemed a social recluse, I simply learned how to have fun in responsible, respectable ways and to be a little bit more discreet in talking about things like parties or personal disputes. Of course, there was a relatively short adjustment period in which I posted some images and aired some opinions that may have been better kept to myself: in that respect, I can only hope that those with access to that data will see it through understanding, human eyes and will take into account the person I am today. Knowing that somehow all that which is posted on the internet becomes more or less etched in stone, one must choose to resign oneself to reality and accept the past as is or struggle and fight (what may be a losing battle) to remove anything that could possibly be considered sensitive or damaging. I was lucky in that the increase in transparency coincided with my emotional development: I became mature enough to not really have to worry about people judging me based on the things I posted/said on Facebook. To take it one step further, I would even say that I have become rather dismissive of those that feel the need to look into my recent activity to judge who I am as a person; why try to grasp who I am via a middleman when one would be likely to get better answers to his/her questions in addressing me directly?

That said, not all people my age have been lucky enough to benefit from the awareness and confidence that I've developed over the years. Some struggle with the blurred line between their public and private lives and renounce online social interaction altogether, and others simply ignore the knowledge that the internet's audience is more or less infinite. As usual, I search for a middle ground: neither obsessing over virtual popularity nor retiring into a small isolated shack at the foot of a valley. Not yet, at least.

My generation will be defined by the way we navigate this moral ambiguity, and we'll likely set the standard for the generations to come. Share your thoughts!

Also, check out what I'm reading! I get the most out of my reading when I get to discuss it with someone else, and I've decided this blog will serve as a good medium to promote that kind of exchange.

Ben

What makes you happy?

2010-06-19T06:41:00.003+02:00

At just about every moment in my life, I am hunting down happiness: learning to recognize it, understand it and especially how to encounter the elusive beast a bit more frequently.

And yet, the things that make me happy seem to change at a pace that resists any attempt to examine them. For example, I've always had trouble answering the general questions people ask when they are trying to get to know me. They're the questions that allow us to weigh each other in the palm of our hands, trying to get a feel for who we are, what defines us, and what definitions one might share. But for those of us who are compulsively introspective, coming up with precise answers to nebulous questions isn't always a given: the answer you would get from a question as simple as "what is your favorite movie" might vary greatly from one month to the next, and certainly would from one year to the next.

Recently, reflecting on the things I do that bring me pleasure, I realized how much they've changed over the years. "What do you do for fun?" Senior year in high school? Having barbecues at home with lots of friends and playing dominoes until the sun went down. Freshman year in college? Partying, living in the moment. Last year in Angers? Seeing movies, talking with friends in a cafe or on a walk. This summer? Read, meditate, ride my bike. If you were to judge me based on this paragraph alone, you might think I'm many different people and not simply a flighty, indulgent individual. Not only that: I can't say in complete confidence that there is any indication of progress in my pastimes: who is to say that seeing a movie is any better than playing dominoes? Or that meditation is more worthy of one's time than partying might be? Of course, I exaggerate: though I have changed a great deal in the past ten years, there are a few things that have remained constant: my thirst for company, interaction and exchange with those around me; my leaning away from overstimulation and mainstream trends.

Am I the only one who struggles to answer these general questions? And is it a result of my own constant state of curiosity and exploration? Or is it a result of a meandering nature which inhibits more opportunities than it presents? If I were forced to choose between curiosity and consistency, I'd gladly pass on the quick answer and take instead my rich, introspective life.

And you? What makes you happy? What brings you pleasure here, now, today? What about last year? What about five years ago?

101th Post! (no dalmatians involved)

2010-05-18T03:31:00.001+02:00

Hey all,

So I've safely made it back to California. No longer in France, I am once again subject to what is called "reverse culture shock" by my fellow travelers: living in another country and acclimating yourself to a new, different culture, one tends to fall out of sync with his or her own culture. Hard to believe, but I can't tell you how true it is!

1. It always dumbfounds me to hear everyone speaking English; not only does the hubbub ring differently, it rings clumsily. I am so fond of hearing the French language!

2. I live in a Californian suburb, and the ample, freshly-paved streets contrast sharply with the narrow, cobbled streets of Angers. In French, there are two place words for "walking in the street": either "on se promene sur le boulevard" ("we walk onthe boulevard") or "on se promene dans la rue" ("we walk in the street"). The difference is a boulevard is large and wide, while a rue can be just about anything, but is usually rather narrow with tall buildings that tend to lean inward, depending on the street's age. We may have similar nuances in the English language, but until you've walked in a small French street, embraced by the leaning walls on your left and on your right, you won't know quite what I'm getting at...

3. California, apart from San Francisco and Berkeley, is not terribly walkable. I really enjoyed wandering around in the streets of any French town, knowing I wouldn't be alone; here in California, the sun seems to burn ever brighter to reinforce the sense of isolation as I stroll down the ample sidewalks.

I have been having a very nice time since my return; I got to see my buddy Simon in the city last Thursday, and we did a few things I had been dreaming about for the past year. The first thing was taking a walk in Golden Gate Park. I have so many memories at that park, mostly from my childhood, and every time I return it builds upon those memories, reinforcing them at the same time. We also tasted tea at Aroma Tea Shop on 6th and Clement in the Richmond District, one of my favorite parts of SF. I'm a big tea drinker and the owner of the shop, Haymen, is always ready to give impromptu tastings of fine teas. Lastly, we got a drink in a dive bar in the Mission District. I had been hearing from friends and family that the Mission District, thanks to cheap housing, has become a young area of SF, hosting students and artists. We got to see some pretty cool graffiti; I think I could spend a whole afternoon wandering around the area looking at graffiti.

I'm currently helping my mom move out of her home in Berkeley to a new place north of San Francisco. This move means a lot of things to all those involved, and like all obstacles, I'm looking forward to its being over!

Ben

Sayonara

2010-04-28T18:27:00.003+02:00

Hey all,

I had originally planned leaving Angers at the end of May, but a recent phone call changed those plans: I am now leaving Monday, May 3rd from Angers.

There are a million things to do before leaving, among them teaching one more week of classes, closing my bank account, canceling my cell phone, and packing my bags, but my introspective self, as usual, inevitably draws my thoughts inwards.

How am I feeling right now? Stressed about packing. Confused about what to do first. Saddened by what, and more importantly, who, I am leaving behind. Exhilirated by what lies ahead.

I've done a thorough job of neglecting this blog this year, but that is not something I regret. That might meet with disappointment on your side, but on my side, it is a reflection of a richer, lighter year spent less weighed down by brooding and more savoring the richness of my life here.

Am I ready to leave? No. Will I ever be ready to leave? No. Can I see myself living here? Yes. Am I paradoxically whole-heartedly committed to the work I will be doing in the US next year? Yes.

My time in France is over; when I come back, we will both have changed a great deal.

It's been pleasant. Ciao, bella!

Ben

On the (Rail)road

2010-04-08T19:30:00.001+02:00

Hey all,

I haven't posted much of anything because there hasn't been a whole lot to say. I'm sorry to all those who have been disappointed by the long silence; rest assured that I have at least one or two big posts left in me before leaving the country in the beginning of June!

I'll be interviewed by some French college students tomorrow morning about education in the US. Check out the previous post for the answers I have prepared to their questions!

I had a nice visit with my mom and sister, who came for ten days to visit France. We spent a few days in Paris and then went down to Bordeaux, where they got to meet my host family from last year! It was really wonderful for me to be able to reconcile these two families; after this visit, I almost consider my mom and sister witnesses of my time here in France. They met the people I stayed with, they met a friend I made in Bordeaux, they walked the streets I walked every day in the beautiful city. They can now corroborate my story; it no longer exists simply in my memories and those of the friends I've made in France!

Going to Paris was nice, not just to see my mom and sister, but also because it is for me a breath of fresh air. As much as I love Angers for the small, quiet, beautiful town that it is, I definitely need to go to Paris once every two months or so to reacquaint myself with the fact that there is a world outside of mine own. I read the New York Times and the New Yorker, I hear about events through Le Monde and word of mouth; but until I go to Paris and see the international hustle and bustle, it doesn't really sink in that things such as the passing of the health care bill, Sarkozy's alleged affairs, and the rapid development of my life and the lives of my friends are really happening.

Friday night (tomorrow night) I embark on a serious journey: I will go from Angers to Bordeaux, the first leg of the most ambitious trip I have ever made in my life. On the 13th I will go from Bordeaux to Paris, spend a few days with friends there, and then move on to Strasbourg on the night of the 18th. Strasbourg is supposed to be one of the most beautiful places in the world, playing host to a unique combination of French and German culture. On the evening of the 20th, I will go from Strasbourg to Lyon, another beautiful city of which I have heard many good things; and then on the 23rd I will go from Lyon to Marseille, home of Marius, IAM, and la bouillabaisse! On the eve of the 24th I will go to Montpellier to visit my buddy Lera whom I met at Bordeaux last year. On the 26th, I'll head off to Nimes, a lesser-known but reputedly very beautiful city a half hour away from Montpellier. I wanted to go to Nimes because I had read Le Charroi de Nimes, a famous story from the 12th century, and was curious to see for myself what it's like. Finally, I will leave Nimes on the 27th for Paris, where I will spend the early afternoon wandering and then head back to Angers. Should be wild! My goal is to write a poem for each city I visit, as a reflection of my impression of the environment but also my state of mind. Given how much I'm traveling, it could turn out to be quite dynamic, to say the least!

Of course, this whole journey has been made possible (affordable/feasible) by France's high-speed rail system. Let's hope California and the US manage to get their hands on a similar technology soon! I recall California purchased France's TGV2 technology in the November elections of last year, but that doesn't seem to be the case anymore considering the news popping up about China offering to sell us technology...

I have news about what I will be doing with my life next year, but full disclosure of the juicy details will have to be postponed until the end of April, at the very earliest. Know that I will not be living in California come next Fall... very exciting news for this globetrotter. (Am I a globetrotter? Don't feel a particularly forceful wanderlust...)

Thanks for checking the blog and I look forward to giving you more updates soon!

Ben

Education Q&A

2010-04-08T19:19:00.005+02:00

Tomorrow morning I will be interviewed by French college students studying English about the American education system.

In the past few years, I have reflected a great deal on the differences between the French educational system and the American one. I would say the one feature that stands out the most between my experience and the typical French experience is the boxing of French students. Their classmates from kindergarten follow them all the way up through high school most of the time. In a student's freshman year of high school (year 1 of 3), based on his/her performance in certain subjects and the motivation apparent in their behavior, a student is recommended by each of their teachers for a track or "filiere". They will either study socioeconomics and become philosophers and politicians, study science and become doctors or scientists, study literature and , or study business and pursue a higher degree or begin work right out of high school. The order I just listed is more or less based on the order in which students are ranked: the smartest kids study socioeconomics and the kids with the lowest grades get dumped in the business track, or STG. There are exceptions of course, but this is certainly the rule. And these tracks play the central role in who people associate with during high school.

I welcome your input on my answers to these questions! I will be conducting the interview tomorrow morning, so this is your chance to influence what changes between now and then.

1. What do you study at UCLA?
Actually, I studied at UCSC – The University of California, Santa Cruz. Santa Cruz is a small town two hours south of San Francisco. It was once a large retirement community, but when the University was founded, in 1965, it became a large part of the city’s culture and now accounts for most of the city’s economy. It also gave birth to a Progressive population and surfer culture in what was generally a community of conservative Republicans.
At UCSC, I studied French Literature. UCSC is not well-known for French Literature, but since I was not accepted to UC Berkeley or Yale, the top two French Departments in the United States, I was determined to make do. I took one French Literature class and one Literature class (usually American or World Literature) each quarter for three years.

2. What are the steps to go to university?
In order to attend a university in the United States, an American must first obtain his/her high school diploma or pass an equivalent test, called the GED. After having thus finished high school, one must apply to universities. In order to apply, one must complete an application process far more complicated than the typical French University application. One must take the SAT and/or ACT, standard tests that provide schools with an idea for the student’s competence in general subjects. Then, an online application is filled out; this application asks for the student’s family racial background, income, and composition (divorced/married/separated, how many brothers/sisters), his/her interests, and then one must write a two to three-page essay explaining why the student would like to attend the university in question and what makes he/she a qualified candidate. Finally, the student must pay an application fee. For privately-funded schools, one must provide a letter of recommendation from one of his/her high school teachers in order to show the teacher’s confidence in his/her student.

3. What are the levels from 3 to 18 years old?
From three years old to about five or six years old, a child attends preschool, or nursery school. Between five and six years old, a child attends kindergarten, followed by first, second, third, fourth, and fifth grade. These six years are called ‘elementary school’. When one is eleven or twelve, one attends middle school, or sixth, seventh, and eighth grade. Finally, Americans in high school are between fourteen and nineteen years old.

4. Did you have ceremonies when you received diplomas?
Yes – I had a graduation ceremony for my high school and college diploma. For my high school graduation ceremony, all the graduating seniors (equivalent of terminales) took a seat in the gymnasium and the family members sat to the left and right of students, on the bleachers. My school colors were black, red, and white, so the boys wore red and the girls wore white gowns with caps. Students who had made great achievements were given separate awards, but otherwise each student’s name is called followed by a short mention of their achievements and they receive their diploma one by one. For my college graduation, the ceremony was held outdoors and the graduating class sat on bleachers to the left and right of the friends and family. Several speeches are made by students and professors, and then each student is called to take their diploma and shake the provost’s hand.

5. What kind of relationships do you have with your teachers?
That depends on the teacher and the class. In a class with 100+ students, a student will not be able to meet the teacher one-on-one unless he/she goes to office hours, which are hours set aside by the professor to speak with students and establish a connection. In smaller classes with twenty to thirty students, the students spoke about as much, if not more than the professor. UC Santa Cruz is known for being progressive, so the majority of my professors embraced a more informal approach to learning: for example, the class sat in a large circle in order to make everyone feel equal. I am still in touch with four professors via email: I recently asked them to write me a letter of recommendation for graduate studies, which allowed us to catch up and gave me a chance to seek their advice on a more intimate level.

6. What have you to do to become [a] teacher in the USA?
In order to teach in elementary, middle, or high school, one must have a master’s degree in education and a teaching credential valid for the state in question. Getting these two degrees generally takes about two and a half years, the typical duration of a master’s degree. There are, however, more competitive, extremely intensive programs in which one can attain both degrees in a year and a half.

7. Can you describe a normal week in an elementary school (timetable)?
Tough question: that was a long time ago! If I remember correctly, an elementary school student has class from 8:00am until 3:30 or 4:00pm Monday-Friday. On Wednesdays, class usually only goes from 8:00am until 1:30pm. Lunch is usually between 12:30 and 1:30pm and there are two fifteen-minute breaks at 10:00am and 2:00pm.

8. Are there educational reforms under Obama’s presidency?
Yes; he is currently trying to implement a system to raise educational standards. Some schools in the US are very good and some are very bad. I don’t know much about the reform, but I do know that it would provide incentives for the schools that are improving and would cut federal aid to schools that are not getting any better. I think there is currently a debate over how to measure a school’s performance. President Bush’s “No Child Left Behind” law made students take a lot of standardized tests, which helped compile data on schools that are struggling, which has subsequently helped the new reform take action in more effective ways.

9. Do you think education needs reforms?
Yes! The only way to find out whether alternative educational systems work better or worse is to implement them, and as long as the representatives making those decisions are defending the people’s best interests, reform is very important.

10. What did you like during your year in France?
This year, I have really tried to immerse myself in French society. It has been a very enlightening experience to see how the French view things, as opposed to how Americans view things. For example, I was brought up with the expression “time is money”, and it has become central to how I make decisions. I might decide not to do something because there is no economic benefit to doing it, especially if it requires a lot of time and effort. Here in France, I don’t think this way of thinking is common: instead, I see people making decisions based on what they want to do, people choosing the path in life that will make them the happiest, not necessarily the richest.

11. How pupils are valued? (How are pupils evaluated)
Students at all levels (K-12, even into college) are graded on a letter system that runs from “A+” to “F”. An “A+” is given for an exceptionally good piece of work; it is almost never given. An “A” is for an excellent piece of work, and an “A-“ is for something just short of excellent. The system continues all the way down: A-, B+, B, B-, C+, C, C-, D+, D, D-, F. Anything below a C- is a failing grade, and the student may choose to receive very little to no credit for his/her work, or in some cases may do the work over again. An “F” indicates no effort on the part of the student; literally, “failing”.

12. In France, from 3 to 6 years old pupils go to Maternelle. What system takes place in the USA?
In the USA, children go to preschool from 3 years old to five or six years old. I believe it is the parents’ choice to decide when the child enters kindergarten, but that may not be true for all schools.

13. What surprised you most when you arrived in a French school?
The students are so shy! In the USA, participation is a large part of the grade: sometimes it counts for as much as 30% of your final grade in a high school class! Students are encouraged to ask questions and speak their opinions. This is a good thing because it promotes a diversity of ideas in the classroom, but it can be a bad thing when the teacher does not make enough time for his/her lesson or when a student simply talks too much.

14. Did you practice repeating a year?
No. I have had friends who had to repeat a year because they were too young; sometimes the state needs to step in to regulate to correct misplacement. I have known people that have not earned passing grades and have had to repeat a year, but in my neighborhood, those cases were rare and exceptional.

Houston:

2010-03-07T02:27:00.003+01:00

Things are not terribly peachy keen at the moment. More later. Over.

We are in touch with mission control and we will land this sucker; just bear with us as we grapple with the wheel, spiraling through the endless sea of stars that knows neither up nor down. Fortunately, we know the meaning of life is 42 and we are keeping the moon in our sights.

:)

Break

2010-02-23T11:44:00.003+01:00

Hey all,

So, it is now the second week of my Winter vacation. Here in France, primary and high schools get four two week-long vacation periods, with very few days off in between. Toussaint, or All Saint's Day holiday is during the last two weeks of October; Christmas vacation (it is, after all, a Catholic country; no surprises here!) is during the last two weeks of December; Winter vacation is the last two weeks of February and Easter break is April 10th to the 26th.
Although I have serious issues with having too much free time, I'm doing my best to appreciate my vacation. Not having money set aside, traveling to another country isn't an option, and I have yet to explore the region. I have picked up some good reading (Freud and Aldous Huxley), and have gotten better about working out.
I have a lot of trouble with the fact that I have trouble having free time. What's more, I find myself with no shoulder to cry on: all my good friends are employed and dream of being in my place, while no one I know struggles to the extent that I do when it comes to drawing satisfaction from free time. Restlessness is the best word I can think of to describe the sensation that builds up in me when a weekend feels a bit too long; a sensation that grows exponentially during these two-week vacations. I attribute my unease with the fact that I don't work enough when I'm not on vacation: I only teach twelve hours a week. Taking classes at the local university and starting to tutor here and there has been a nice outlet to ease the tension that can build up in me. But the problem, for me, is that the problem exists in the first place. Is my happiness and sense of self-worth so closely bound to the regard of another that I can't be satisfied with the pride I draw from my achievements alone? Why do I yearn so for a grade, a pat on the back, a paycheck? Why can't I simply make myself aware of the fact that I am doing something worthwhile, doing it well and take pleasure from that knowledge? But all these questions are better saved for the couch than an open letter.
It is worth mentioning that I am waiting to hear back from universities about acceptance to graduate programs in Literature. Starting my career by submitting an application and waiting four months to hear where life may take me is enough to make anyone anxious, I would imagine. To be honest, the best thing I've done for my own well-being during this time has been to distract myself.
The foodie in me has led to the discovery of a very endearing part of French culture: open-air markets, the papa bears of smaller California farmer's markets. Two large markets, one on Wednesday and the other on Saturday, are a veritable cornucopia of francophile delight: as if the endless stalls of delicious cheese, fresh meat, fruits & veggies galore aren't enough to slate your appetite for culture, take a gander at the wine and cider tables, the crepe stands, baker's booths and flea market fare. My big favorite has been the honey vendors. Offering more varieties than you could imagine, from liquid honey to creamy honey, from fir tree to lavender to acacia to buckwheat honey, this sweet-tooth Heaven can also be the undoing of the indecisive.
I'm looking forward to bringing two good friends of mine to the markets when they come visit me at the end of March; it's been difficult for me to not be able to share my experience with the people I already know and love. As much as I wish I could wrap everyone up in a polka-dotted handkerchief and sling them over my shoulder as I stride the globe, it's simply not possible. The strangest has been not sharing my experience in France with the people that define the country for me; the Californians I met in Bordeaux last year; my high school French teacher; my mom; my French Literature colleagues and professors at UC Santa Cruz. I have no doubt that this sensation is nothing new; I only wonder at how the intimate disconnect of the Internet has changed its fundamental nature.
I may have a four-hour layover in Beijing on my way home this summer. This might surprise those who know me, but I swear it wasn't planned! The fact that my cheapest flight home takes me from a country I love and brings me back home, making a stop in a country I have dreamed of exploring for the past three years, is pure, happy providence.

Ben

Happy New Year! 新年快樂!

2010-02-14T21:53:00.004+01:00

Hey all,

Happy Lunar New Year! I had a great time celebrating Chinese New Year at a big event - there were about 200 people there. I had committed to singing Jackie Chan's Mandarin interpretation of Mulan's "I'll Make a Man Out of You" on a whim, thinking it would make for good laughs in a group of 20-odd people. So you can imagine my surprise when there were so many more people there than expected! I look forward to seeing a recording of my performance - it can't be good! I'll be sure to post the evidence up here as soon as I get my hands on it...

I also thought I'd share this short entry I wrote in my Moleskine earlier today. Reflecting on my homesickness, I realized why it is so strange for my friends to want to hear about my travels. I realized there were a few loose ends in my thoughts; add an imaginary "...than they are when I am sharing a cup of tea or playing dominoes with them back in California." after "...their movements"

Best,
Ben

Class

2010-02-04T14:04:00.003+01:00

Hey all,

Things have been going well; I'm sorry I haven't made the time to update the blog in a little while.

A film festival called le Festival des Premiers Plans, recently passed through town. I'm pretty sure this is the biggest event that attracts people to Angers: judging films from all over Europe, film students come down from Paris to take part; directors come to Q&A sessions after the screening of their films, and hotshots like Jeanne Moreau, Bertrand Tavernier, Melanie Doutey and Pierre Lhomme grace the event with presentations of films and round-table discussions. Alain Delon, the poster boy of the festival, decided he was sick and wasn't going to be able to make it. According to some locals, he is allergic to every city in France that isn't Paris.

This festival was the source of great pleasure for me; never before have I been exposed to so many films in such short a time, nor have I had the chance to ask famous people dumb questions, let alone confirm their existence first-person. I think, by the way, that America's pedestal tends to be several meters higher than France's: they manage to remember (somewhat) that stars are less celestial ornaments than plain ol' human beings.

I took full advantage of the opporunity to see old films on the big screen. The festival was doing a retrospective on Jean-Pierre Melville and his followers, which included Jim Jarmusch, Quentin Tarantino, Takeshi Kitano and John Woo. I got to see L'Armée des ombres, Le doulos, and Le cercle rouge; I would have seen more if I didn't have to teach these darn classes! hahaha.

I got to participate in the festival - I got an email from the Anglophone Library in Angers mentioning that the festival was looking for anglophones who would donate their time to "dubbing" films for the jurors and directors who didn't speak French or read French subtitles. For the films not in English, or not subtitiled in French and English, I sat in the front and whispered into the microphone each and every line of about ten films, my voice being carried off into small earbuds scattered about the enormous theater. It was really cool. My favorite film, which shared the first place award with a Franco-Iranian film, was called Eastern Plays. I highly recommend it, along with North, a dark Norweigan comedy.

To take part not only in a film festival, but in the interpretation of a film itself in front of 150+ spectators was a total rush. But that rush was the gateway drug that led me to simultaneous translation for interviews here and there, which really got my heart beating. One essentially must think on two frequencies: to hear in one language and speak in another, without ever falling behind or mistranslating sticky expressions. Not to mention a thorough knowledge of that which is being discussed is compulsory. It was really exciting, and I look forward to doing more work like that in the near future: I don't quite know where or when, but I'm looking forward to it nonetheless.

I've started classes at the local university, which is going well. I have a lot of catching up to do in my Latin class, which I have been neglecting for work and dubbing, but I'm enjoying and staying on top of my class on Michel de Montaigne's Essais. Class at the university is a breath of fresh air for me; a reminder that a full time high school teacher might not be my ideal career.

Following the strain of random musings tied in with current events, I've found that French girls are practically timid compared to American girls. Perhaps it's my own shyness, or sheer clumsiness, but I've found it a lot harder to strike up a fulfilling conversation with a French girl my age than with an American girl my age. And as long as I'm dipping my toes in broad generalities, something is to be said for the role opinions play in French society. I've found that people in France (men and women, old and young alike) are much more likely to stick with an opinion or belief than I am. Perhaps that's the California in me speaking, but I find it strange and almost stressful to feel compelled to have a strong opinion on each and every current event or social debate.

I read the first installment of Twilight after all. Thanks a lot, Isabelle... It was a fun read, although I refuse to accept that it was written by an English professor in the US. English high school teacher, maybe; professor? No! Once I've finished Goethe's Faust I'm going to try to really dig into Freud's L'inquietante etrangete (The Uncanny), of which I have yet but scratched the surface.

Ciao!
Ben

PS: I finished Goethe's Faust on Tuesday night and have since started Marlowe's 17th-century version of the story. Luck would have it that a ticket for the opera fell in my lap last night, which was none other than Berlioz's The Damnation of Faust. It was a lot of fun - my first ever opera/symphony! I must say though, that I would have been much happier had it been one or the other, instead of both: I found it hard to appreciate the voices when they were overpowered by the orchestra and vice versa.

Reading Reflections

2010-01-11T20:13:00.004+01:00

Hey all,

I recently finished reading Vladimir Nabokov's Lolita, which utterly and completely awed me. I tore through the text in 8 days (I counted), which is nothing short of remarkable for me; I consider myself a slow reader. The only other book that I have torn through that fast is André Gide's La Symphonie Pastorale, which I read in a sunny day on the grass of Bordeaux's Jardin Public. Let's say I started 2010 the right way: with a good book. Nabokov amazed me on many levels: the plot had me hanging at the corner of every page; it was extremely well crafted, playing on sonorities and double entendre with dexterity and dropping trite French clichés left and right. Finally, and most importantly, the protagonist lifted himself up from the page and pressed his filthy nose to mine as he told his story; I saw my own reflection (in negative, but myself nonetheless) in his watery eyes, inspiring here laughs and there tears. Mind you, I didn't cry: I seem to have lost the ability to use my tear ducts some years ago.
For the record, I have recopied three (3) pages from Lolita and led a few advanced English classes through a close reading of the first chapter. I won't bore you with copies of these: if you're intrigued, I'll leave it to you to borrow the book from a good friend or library!
Alone in my apartment, I am learning to be at peace with myself. Thoreau said something to the tune of 'I have had many good friends, but none so amiable as Solitude'. For me, knowing oneself (Cognais-toi toi-mesme...) and being at peace with loneliness allows for a greater capacity to enjoy life and appreciate company.
But like anybody, it does me a lot of good to hear people's voices. Listening to music can be good for that, but at times, the best thing can simply be to hear people talk. This year, more so than last year, I have been downloading and listening to Podcasts of my favorite radio programs through iTunes. I wanted to share my favorite podcast with you in the hopes that you may discover it and come to love it as I have, or at the very least so that you might know me just a little better. NPR's Fresh Air is a popular radio program that airs five days a week - it's been going strong for some 20-odd years, all the while being hosted by the same person, Terry Gross. The format is relatively simple: a 30-minute long one-on-one interview with politicians, actors, directors, musicians, academics, and writers. At the end of the 30 minutes, there is often a movie, TV, or music review. It is always surprising to me how intimate the interviews can be in such a short time: I have convinced myself that Terry Gross has some kind of magic up her sleeve that strips her interlocutor of all pretenses, whether it be a tender, gentle removal, or a violent, shocking exposure. This fits in with my taste in literature: remove all that is unnecessary and return to a simple, straightforward formula that is both flexible and constraining. Why bother with three mediocre plot twists when one, done with great care and precision, attains the sublime? Why overload the listener with multiple voices and opinions when three suffice? By three, I refer to Terry, her guest, and the listener.
On Saturday night, I donned the azure guyabera under my navy blue blazer and set out to meet a friend for a movie: I had been itching to see Francis Ford Coppola's Tetro ever since it arrived, and her return from visiting with family elsewhere on the continent made for an excellent pretext. The film was good, the conversation was better.
My luck seems to be increasing when it comes to good conversation; I had begun to despair in early December, thinking I'd leave France without truly connecting with someone new. Perhaps in response to this despair, or in response to its subsequent aching for the transipermanent 知音識趣, I experienced several encounters in the following weeks in which I felt so understood and understanding that I would go so far as to call them euphoric. Not two hours ago, I had a great discussion with the school's receptionist.
The fact that I have had so many of these conversations (intimate, engrossing, fulfilling exchanges) makes me wonder at their cause: has it taken this long to find people with whom I can get along? Or is it more indicative of my growth as an individual? It is my belief, as guided by my cursory knowledge of Maslow's pyramid and Buddhist meditation, that with a small degree of Nirvana or self-actualization (I don't dare suggest full self-actualization or Enlightenment), one is aware, spontaneous, and present. Aware of the past, the future, and conscient of one's surroundings; spontaneous in every decision, acting with confidence and the absence of regret, past or present; and present in the here and now, at once aware and at peace with the troubles and joys of the two worlds, micro- and macro- cosms.
Long story short, I think I'm doin' good and when you're doin' good, the skies are bound to be blue.
Last night I watched Wall-E and Ashes of Time redux (东邪西毒) on my computer. Both excellent, and I look forward to watching them again! I also watched a Pixar short called Partly Cloudy, which was fun. I'd like to mention my housekeeping; on the upper-left hand corner of my blog is a list of blogs I prefer. I read them at least once a day, if not more; which is sad, considering they're usually updated about once a week. The attentive reader will notice I have taken a couple away and added "1day:1poem", which is a blog maintained by a good friend of mine. He has set a goal of writing a poem a day for the next year; an admirable goal, and one of which I plan to take full advantage. I'm still trying to convince him to quit his day job, and I'm hoping this blog brings me a little closer to that... in any case, he has disabled comments, so you won't have to worry about the incessant nagging you get from yours truly about 'feedback' and 'encouragement', pithy frivolties in which only the most imperfect minds indulge.

Be well, do good work, and keep in touch.
Ben

PS: After going for a quick jog, I popped into the teacher's lounge to check my box. Little did I know one of the more mischevious English teachers had malevolently infected it with the first fatal dose of Twilight. Dare I catch the villanously vapid vampire virus so soon after basking in the youthful virility of Nabokov? Or would I do better to die in agony with Flaubert's flaunting his scientific clout? ...we shall see...

PPS: Stefan: your ward against evil in Ferlinghetti-an verse, taped to my box, failed to protect me from this attack. Have not faith in its fickle promise of protection!

Videos!

2010-01-05T17:53:00.004+01:00

Hey all,

So... at long last, here is the promised video of me playing guitar. It's not much; I've really just begun, so be gentle! I'm taking my time, trying to do things properly from the get-go. Not to mention, I'm not playing with any specific goal in mind beyond being able to jam with friends.

Also, here is a video of my and Erina's attempt at a mochizuki! For about four years when I was about ten, my dad, who worked for a Japanese company, used to take me to celebrate with his coworkers and their family. I still have fond memories of fifty-odd people, all distant aunts, uncles, nieces and nephews, gathering at the house to watch football, chat, and make mochi. Of course, it was a little bit awkward being the only one not related to everyone else there (not to mention the only white ones!), but once I got used to that awkwardness, I had a lot of fun. I hope someday to do it again, maybe with my family! It's a great tradition and fresh mochi is just about the tastiest thing in the world.

-Ben

Happy New Year!

2010-01-01T21:41:00.000+01:00

知音識趣: Kindred Spirits

2009-12-27T19:26:00.005+01:00

Hey all,

Alas, Christmas has come and gone. A belated Merry Christmas to you all, especially those of you who celebrate it.

I had given you my word two weeks ago that I would post, on Christmas, a video of me playing the guitar to this very blog. Well, as fate would have it, I was unable to post the video. Not having permission to upload photo or video content from the computer lab and falling ill with a fever impeded me from fulfilling that promise: for that I am sorry.

This news will undoubtedly come as a relief to a select few (or a great many) among you, to whom I issue a gentle warning to remain vigilant: someone has yet to formally forbid me (in writing via petition) from continuing to play the guitar, and the guitar itself is still in working order, so in reading this blog you run the risk of seeing a video of me playing guitar. You may even see two. Be warned.

Christmas was sad for me. I can now speak from experience when I say that spending Christmas away from family, utterly alone and sick in bed is not as pleasant as some might make it sound. It may even be dangerous, should you run out of instant noodles, or should tuna and carrots in oyster sauce over rice cease to pique your appetite.

If, like you or my mom, you are a fan of post-Bolshevik Russo-American identity, collecting sponges, collecting empty boxes, America, philosophy, beauty, or life, let me suggest checking out Maira Kalman: I was given one of her books for Christmas, and she's pretty wonderful.

My reading of Thoreau has been very interesting: I won't go into minutae on how I feel about every aspect of Walden, but I would simply like to say, without attempting to speak in too general of terms, that 89.3% of it is worth reading.

I have recently taken to re-copying texts that I appreciate. This is an undertaking that brings me great joy: writing and reading can feel so different from one another, and re-copying reconciles the differences in a way nothing else ever has for me. This is a process that began when I started learning Chinese and had to copy a character thirty times over before starting to get the hang of it. It was reinforced last year when a French Literature professor, M. Francalanza, suggested that I take excerpts from notable French authors, copy them over and read them aloud in the presence of an authority that could correct me on pronunciation. I continue to do both, taking great relish in what I consider to be a modern appropriation of 'outdated' pedagogical technique.

One could make the argument that Henry David Thoreau is both the most cited and most unknown writers in the American canon. It is thus with extreme caution that I venture to post an excerpt of Walden. I do it not to sever the text from its context, effectively decapitating the work in its entirety, but instead to attempt to render it all the more evident that the great fingers and toes of wisdom floating through the American consciousness on tea bags and moleskine covers, particularly the digits of Thoreau, were once joined to hands and feet, limbs and a whole that are no less significant.

Reading Thoreau last night, I stumbled upon a text that intrigued me on a very intimate scale: he had described, albeit rather briefly, a tender friendship that can exist between two individuals. This understanding between coupled spirits fascinates me to no end. The phenomenon of a non-romantic love exists across cultures and is often considered the pinnacle of human communication. In English, we have the term 'kindred spirits', in French, one seeks the 'âme sœur', or 'sister soul'. My favorite, and the expression with which I am least familiar, is '知音識趣' 'zhi1 yin1 shi2 qu4'; a Chinese idiom that apparently alludes to the harmonic aspect of true understanding: playing the same tune, being on the same page. This concept is at the front of my mind when deep in discussion, contemplating life, and especially when playing my guitar.

The Thoreau text I have re-copied does a little bit of justice to friendship, and it is on that note that I share it with you.

Ben

PS: If anyone knows anything or has any more information about "zhiyin shiqu", please let me know! I'm really eager to learn more about it first hand, reading Chinese lit, but that probably won't be for another three years or so...

Walden: Former Inhabitants; and Winter Visitors

2009-12-27T19:24:00.001+01:00

"
Sometimes, notwithstanding the snow, when I returned from my walk at evening I crossed the deep tracks of a woodchopper leading from my door, and found his pile of whittlings on the hearth, and my house filled with the odor of his pipe. Or on a Sunday afternoon, if I chanced to be at home, I heard the cronching of the snow made by the step of a long-headed farmer, who from far through the woods sought my house, to have a social "crack;" one of the few of his vocation who are "men on their farms;" who donned a frock instead of a professor's gown, and is as ready to extract the moral out of church or state as to haul a load of manure from his barn-yard. We talked of rude and simple times, when men sat about large fires in cold bracing weather, with clear heads; and when other dessert failed, we tried our teeth on many a nut which wise squirrels have long since abandoned, for those which have the thickest shells are commonly empty.

The one who came from farthest to my lodge, through deepest snows and most dismal tempests, was a poet. A farmer, a hunter, a soldier, a reporter, even a philosopher, may be daunted; but nothing can deter a poet, for he is actuated by pure love. Who can predict his comings and goings? His business calls him out at all hours, even when doctors sleep. We made that small house ring with boisterous mirth and resound with the murmur of much sober talk, making amends then to Walden vale for the long silences. Broadway was still and deserted in comparison. At suitable intervals there were regular salutes of laughter, which might have been referred indifferently to the last uttered or the forth-coming jest. We made many a "bran new" theory of life over a thin dish of gruel, which combined the advantages of conviviality with the clear-headedness which philosophy requires.

I should not forget that during my last winter at the pond there was another welcome visitor, who at one time came through the village, through snow and rain and darkness, till he saw my lamp through the trees, and shared with me some long winter evenings. One of the last of the philosophers, - Connecticut gave him to the world, - he peddled first her wares, afterwards, as he declares, his brains. These he peddles still, prompting God and disgracing man, bearing for fruit his brain only, like the nut its kernel. I think that he must be the man of the most faith of any alive. His words and attitude always suppose a better state of things than other men are acquainted with, and he will be the last man to be disappointed as the ages revolve. He has no venture in the present. But though comparatively disregarded now, when his day comes, laws unsuspected by most will take effect, and masters of families and rulers will come to him for advice. -

"How blind that cannot see serenity!"
A true friend of man; almost the only friend of human progress. An Old Mortality, say rather an Immortality, with unwearied patience and faith making plain the image engraven in men's bodies, the God of whom they are but defaced and leaning monuments. With his hospitable intellect he embraces children, beggars, insane, and scholars, and entertains the thought of all, adding to it commonly some breadth and elegance. I think that he should keep a caravansary on the world's highway, where philosophers of all nations might put up, and on his sign should be printed, "Entertainment for man, but not for his beast. Enter ye that have leisure and a quiet mind, who earnestly seek the right road." He is perhaps the sanest man and has the fewest crotchets of any I chance to know; the same yesterday and to-morrow. Of yore we had sauntered and talked, and effectually put the world behind us; for he was pledged to no instutution in it, freeborn, ingenuus. Whichever way we turned, it seemed that the heavens and the earth had met together, since he enhanced the beauty of the landscape. A blue-robed man, whose fittest roof is the overarching sky which reflects his serenity. I do not see how he can ever die; Nature cannot spare him.

Having each some shingles of thought well dried, we sat and whittled them, trying our knives, and admiring the clear yellowish grain on the pumpkin pine. We waded so gently and reverently, or we pulled together so smoothly, that the fishes of thought were not scared from the stream, nor feared any angler on the bank, but came and went grandly, like the clouds which float through the western sky, and the mother-o'-pearl flocks which sometimes form and dissolve there. There we worked, revising mythology, rounding a fable here and there, and building castles in the air for which earth offered no worthy foundation. Great Looker! Great Expecter! to converse with whom was a New England Night's Entertainment. Ah! such discourse we had, hermit and philosopher, and the old settler I have spoken of, - we three, - it expanded and racked my little house; I should not dare to say how many pounds' weight there was above the atmospheric pressure on every circular inch; it opened its seams so that they had to be calked with much dulness thereafter to stop the consequent leak; - but I had enough of that kind of oakum already picked.

There was one other with whom I had "solid seasons," long to be remembered, at his house in the village, and who looked in upon me from time to time; but I had no more for society there.

There too, as every where, I sometimes expected the Visitor who never comes. The Vishnu Purana says, "The house-holder is to remain at eventide in his courtyard as long as it takes to milk a cow, or longer if he pleases, to await the arrival of a guest." I often performed this duty of hospitality, waited long enough to milk a whole herd of cows, but did not see the man approaching from the town.
"

Snow

2009-12-17T16:19:00.000+01:00

Hey all,

Today it snowed! You all can imagine, I am sure, the reaction of a young Californian to such weather... It was beautiful! I was in the middle of class, having the kids write up a dialogue about ordering food in a restaurant, when I noticed the tiny flakes of white floating down from the skies. My first instinct was to ignore it and continue with class, but the other students began to notice and get a bit distracted. The magical part of the snowfall was its swiftness; it went from a gentle dusting to a soft fall to a flurry in a matter of minutes, practically begging to be appreciated. The kids saw the smile spread across my face and they began to giggle. "You can imagine," I said, "how special this is for a Californian!"

Later, I went to the cafeteria to have lunch and said the same thing to the surveillant/surveillantes (think RAs of a boarding school), other people around my age and smiled at them and the snow for a good five minutes. They thought it was great that I was so amused, but I think the sincere glee was contagious and they seemed to appreciate the snow a bit more.

Tomorrow is the last day of classes before Christmas break (the French will rarely say "Happy Holidays / Joyeuses fetes". Their being Catholic is no secret) and the Scrooge in me is softening ever so slightly.

Last night the boarders (a little less than half of the student body) had a big party in the cafeteria - a lot of the kids dressed up, there was a big meal, performances, and they had a big dance afterward. It was really a lot of fun - the costumes were really creative. The best were three "Totally Spies!" girls, an Edward Scissorhands, and a Tintin. Edward was great - no scissors allowed, so he used knives from the cafeteria, some wrenches and a fork instead. The Jackson 5 were also present, but seeing as they were in blackface, I'm going to hold judgement on that one.

This experience is completely selling me on boarding schools.

My trip up to Paris last week was great - if you have a Facebook account, you can check out all the photos I posted. If not, tough. :)

There will be another update before Christmas... I'm going to see a hip-hop dance troupe on Friday, may go listen to some gospel choir this Saturday, not to mention Where the Wild Things Are and Avatar just opened over here.

As if that isn't enough, playing the guitar has been a lot of fun and I believe I'm progressing. I have also put down some reading that didn't particularly captivate me (les Essais de Michel de Montaigne) and have picked up Walden and Civil Disobedience, by Henry David Thoreau, which so far suits me to a tee.

Best,
Ben

Videos Galore!

2009-12-06T15:35:00.002+01:00

Hey all,

So today I saw Santa Claus. He was riding in a carriage preceded by a cavalcade of French gendarme. He does exist: to this I can attest. He is, however, French; and a great deal skinnier than the jolly, supersized American Santa Claus.

Video footage of the spectacle:

In other news, an association called the Confucius Institute opened three blocks away from my high school last Saturday. I'm hoping to enroll and be able to once again take classes in the language I have half-learned (as far as the UC system is concerned...). To say that I am excited would be an understatement.

Learning Latin on my own has been fun and eye-opening from a linguistic perspective: but I am definitely in need of someone to correct the exercises I've already done... I'd hate to cultivate bad habits right from the get-go!

I've put together lesson plans to teach The Giving Tree, Where the Wild Things Are, and Harold and the Purple Crayon to a couple of my more advanced classes. Working up the nerve to do so might prove challenging... I'm so attached to these books, I have a profound fear when it comes to sharing them with my students, who lie somewhere between strangers and new acquaintances on my social scale.

I've been practicing the guitar assiduously; and although it is taking some time, I am improving. I wouldn't dare torture you with a video until I've got something respectable to show off: I'd say at least a month, maybe two! Let it be known, however, that I have every intention of recording my playing and posting it on the blog.

Here is a video from my Thanksgiving. Erina, a fellow English-language assistant from Seattle and her housemate Blandine, Angevine extraordinaire, were kind enough to welcome me and some of their new friends to their apartment. Erina managed to find a poultry vendor at the open-air market which takes place every Saturday morning, and lucky for us, he was able to get his hands on a turkey!

I realized there were a few videos from my trip to Brest that I had yet to post, so here's the compilation:

Last but not least, a video of me cooking in my apartment.

Enjoy!

Ben

Turkey

2009-11-24T01:57:00.001+01:00

Here I boldly present to you, my ever loyal audience, an essay originally intended for adorably French adolescent ears. Alas, it is imperfect and rather dark, but I accept it as such and submit it here as the future subject of your scorn/ambivalence/approval.

Thanksgiving

Thanksgiving is an American holiday that occurs on the last Thursday of November of every year. It celebrates the first meal shared in the seventeenth century by the pilgrims, who had emigrated from England, and the Native American Indians. It celebrates fraternity, the common good, and satisfaction in what we already have, also known as "thankfulness". It emphasizes the appreciation of non-material things: health, happiness, family, friends, safety, community.
To celebrate Thanksgiving, one must have something to be thankful for. In the event that you feel you have nothing to be thankful for, you are in luck; as this holiday is tailor-made especially for you. You are a miserable wretch who finds nothing pleasant in everyday life: work is a burden seldom rewarding, your family nags at you until you are on the brink of wringing their throats, and school is¡ well, school. Your girlfriend never gives you what you want when you want it: sex, affection, attention, space. You're not particularly beautiful, and you could do with losing a few pounds. Who couldn't?
But then you remember your cousin's good friend that passed away this last summer. You recall the absolute desolation she felt when that friend erased himself from her future, forever to remain a source of sweet agony whose memory she at once relished and dreaded. And you are reminded of your bulimic ex-girlfriend, whom you could not invite to dinner without a pang of powerless guilt. You are reminded of the unfortunate protagonist of Le père Goriot, who witnessed a relentlessly generous father waste away and die following his being abandoned by his two wretched daughters. A distant relative sends you some pathetic email about the blessings that God benevolently endows on the suffering children in that dilapidated continent that is considered a country, and you set aside your religious doubts and recognize the unfathomable suffering those children (who do exist, unlike G--) and all the unjust torments they are destined to experience. In this rather shallow yet genuine moment of humanity you are enticed to consider, too, the unfortunate families that in the past year have lost jobs, and with jobs, homes, and with homes, sanctuary, and with sanctuary, dignity.
And you begin to realize that perhaps your job doesn't need to be such a burden as you make it out to be; and perhaps your family's incessant nagging is an acceptable condition of their unconditional love; and maybe your girlfriend is all the more precious to you because she is an individual and does not act in conjunction with your every whim; you remember that an education is a privilege and not a birthright in some not-so-distant lands, and you accept that mole on your brow and the handles on your haunch as visible evidence of who you are right now. And then, all of a sudden, your soul begins to grin with the warm expanding sensation and a sense of impeccable beauty that surpasses description. And you sit, or you stand, marinating in the lemon-fresh batter with a gentle smile on your face as you feel your corners being smoothed and your jagged edges softened. Your being exfoliated, you wonder at the meal shared some four centuries ago and you ask yourself if this was perhaps how the Native American Indians felt when they decided to share their food, land, and company with the pilgrims. And you realize the true meaning of the Thanksgiving holiday is simple and good.
But every shaft of glittering moonlight has its shadow. You recall the fact that the Native American Indians who weren't killed by ruthless indiscriminate violence or blankets were cordoned off into Reservations and stripped with great relish of their language, culture, and identity as they burned at the base of the Melting Pot.
Ah, well. Happy Thanksgiving.

Videos

2009-11-21T14:37:00.004+01:00

Hey all,

Here are a couple movies I took recently. The first is of my fridge, which will allow me to eat cheaper and healthier on the weekends, when there is no cafeteria. The second is a video I took walking home last night. You'll notice I took some liberties with it... I cut my blathering on about Angers' castle and St. Maurice's Cathedral and replaced it with Death Cab for Cutie's "Talking Bird", which I find much more pleasant.

Things are going well; I'm really enjoying reading Jane Eyre. I have also resumed work on my pronunciation of French text - I copy an excerpt from Diderot, Voltaire, Rousseau, or some other author from the eighteenth century, and while reading it aloud, an authority on the language can distinguish the sounds that I have yet to master. An especially kind teacher at the high school has offered to help me in learning Latin - until I figure out a way to enroll in a class at the University. So I'm keeping busy, all the while getting out and having fun.

Speaking with a French man who had sought an anglophone to do some work on his English accent, I was treated to a great little story. He had gone to the bibliotheque anglophone and paid a small fee to have ten sessions with an American. He had high hopes until he realized that the man correcting his pronunciation was from the Bayou, and that he could hardly understand half of what he said, on a good day. To make matters worse, the man was half deaf. Though this southern gent obviously has a heart of gold (he donated the fees to the library, providing the lessons for free), he is just about the worst candidate for pronunciation work...

I recently saw "Waltz With Bashir" at the local movie theater, Les 400 Coups, a cool little spot that hosts sneak previews and post-film discussions. In distancing myself from Gaumont and UGC (the French theater goliaths) and seeking out smaller theaters, I have found an intriguing, alternative movie culture. Before a special showing, the audience is welcomed by a humble MC, and after the movie they are encouraged to stay for a discussion, led either by a professor or the director of the film him/herself. It's much more fulfilling as an experience,and allows me to indulge in one of my fancies - connecting with complete strangers. "Waltz With Bashir" was absolutely splendid, and I highly recommend it.

I am posting this in a nearby cafe while I do my laundry, eating a tuna sandwich in yummy baguette and sipping on a glass of the Beaujolais Nouveau, my latest cultural discovery.

Best,

Ben

PS: I hate soliciting comments, but I get a wee bit angsty thinking no one reads or appreciates this stuff! So write a comment! Even if the comment is a measly stand-in for facebook's "like" option in which you simply write "(like)", it will be greatly appreciated.

Antics in Angers

2009-11-15T11:10:00.002+01:00

Hey all,

Aaah... where to start? I finished my reading of Mark Twain for the moment, which I'm taking as a good and bad thing; it's good in that I can now begin something else (I've started a collection of Robert Frost's poems, Jane Eyre, and maybe some good French stuff... La Rochefoucauld?), but it's bad in that the ride through Missouri English is over. I really enjoyed Twain's critical spirit and impeccable wit. I would consider it a lifetime achievement to write something worthy of dedication to his generous legacy.

Things are going well. I am becoming more and more comfortable teaching, developing lesson plans that are supple and relatively dynamic. I'm becoming more flexible, using a bit more French with the classes

that have a lower level and pumping up my general spontaneity. It will take some time, but I am going to have to accept that certain students simply don't care in the least for English, while others find it captivating (much in the way that French and Chinese captivate me). Playing 21 Questions with my classes was genius; the French love George Clooney and Twilight, for whoever asks.

Often times the classes that struggle with the subject will be extremely resistant to speaking English. On Thursday, a student struck a sick kind of middle ground and had me in stitches for about five minutes on end. She adopted one of the most absurd American accents, speaking the French equivalent of fake nails exfoliating a chalkboard. I admit I enjoyed my laugh before trying to continue with the class.

Hopefully this weakness of mine won't be exploited.

I caught the flu during my Halloween weekend in Paris (not the swine flu, mind you: my buddy Florent, who kindly put me up for the weekend, had a colleague fall ill with the swine flu during my visit, which was quite scary). I think my falling ill was due to a bit of stress the week before (see: Graduate School Applications), a late night on Halloween, and pushing myself to see the Renoir exhibit at the Grand Palais the following Sunday. The Renoir exhibit was well worth the two-hour wait in the rain, and perhaps even the flu. Warmth and humanity ooze from his paintings as does honey butter from cornbread slabs at T-Rex.

Paris was excellent, by the way: I ate some delicious pasta chez les di Meglio, tried to go to a graffiti exhibit and ended up in a Senate session, and generally let loose. It was fun.

In any case, I gave myself a good two weeks to fully recover from a debilitating fever, fatigue and cough. Mind you, I taught every class - didn't miss a single one! In this week or two, I got fairly lazy and heavy. It was time to start running again! I went for a jog in the park near the high school last night around 5:45. It was really interesting to see this park - tranquil and innocent during the day - transform into a menagerie of shadows, hosting foreboding sculptures of Greek gods and goddesses, fleeting silhouettes, and mystery floating upon warm breezes in the late autumn dusk. I finished my jog, approaching one of the looming gates. It then dawned on me that the park closing at 18h00 was no joke. In Bordeaux, the park closing was a thoroughly open affair, park attendants zipping by on scooters to make sure they weren't locking anyone in. Apparently, things are done a little differently here in Angers. I was locked in with nothing but my keys to the high school. No cell phone, no ID, no wallet, no flares, no rape whistle.

I went around to another gate, thinking perhaps the attendant was still in the process of closing the park. Nope. Only a band of tweens gossiping on the other side of my gilded cage. They suggested I jump, so I began to scale the relatively tame gate heavy with footholds. At the top, sheltered white boy from a California suburb notices pointy arrowhead-type devices decorating the top of the gate. Sheltered white boy remembers how little practice he has had scaling fences. Sheltered white boy then reflects on the children he has yet to have and the equipment needed to bring them into existence. "Perhaps there are other, friendlier gates," he said to himself as he slid down the gate and slithered away in retreat.

Sure enough, I found a nine-foot tall stone wall not far away with a kind of chain-link fence box at its foot. I cautiously stepped up on to the trailer cage, making sure of my footing and judging the feat conceivable. Preparing my cowardly soul for the leap, I sprang off the trailer to get a hold on the top of the wall and boost myself over.

That's when I realized the trailer had wheels.

Laughing at my own foolishness, I drag the cart back against the wall and wedge some nearby chopped wood under the wheels, scaling the wall without much trouble. Triumphant, pride relatively intact, I strutted past the tweens, who were relieved and amused to see their new friend had ben victorious. Ben 1, Park 0.

In other news, I have more or less finished with Graduate School Applications. I look forward to hearing back from the institutions sometime in May, and am greatly relieved to have the whole process behind me. I applied to both Comparative Literature and French departments across the US. Comparative Literature is an academic field that permits a study of texts in their original form: I would study French, Chinese and English texts and compare them. All this operating under the belief that analysis is deepened by a working knowledge of the language and culture in question. In French Literature, I would more or less adhere to seventeenth and eighteenth century French theatre, promoting awareness of lesser-known texts in the States and furthering research in the field, working hand-in-hand with French colleagues. Needless to say, I'd be happy to do both! I've applied to Columbia, Duke, Princeton, NYU, and UW-Madison.

My newly obtained guitar should be out of the shop (don't ask...) in a few days. If I'm feeling inspired I might just post a morceau of something that vaguely resembles music. You can hold a wabisabibanjo accountable for that.

I love speaking French oh so much. It makes me terribly happy to be given the opportunity to do so on a day-to-day basis with intellectuals and beautiful women. Less on that later.

Best,
Ben

2009-10-30T10:59:00.016+01:00

Twain

Hey all,

It is late Thursday night and I cannot sleep. Consumed by stress about my grad school applications, and still buzzing from copious amounts of jasmine tea consumed earlier in the day, I set myself down to do some reading until my eyelids got the best of me. Unfortunately, instead of picking up a geology textbook, or Marx, or some other reading denser than rye, I decided to continue my reading of Twain. He had me laughing out loud not long ago with his "Conversation of the Tudors".

This evening, in my restlessness, I stumbled upon a light piece of his that reminded me of a friend of mine. Though not a native, she lives in New England, and often has speculated on the curious (and mostly cold) weather there. It is thus that I dedicate to her a transcription of Twain's speech entitled "The Oldest Inhabitant - the Weather of New England". In blog format, this piece may seem rather long and tedious, but should any one of you find a more tangible text, I assure you it is an easy and pleasant read.

"The Olderst Inhabitant - the Weather of New England
Seventy-first Annual Dinner, New England Society of New York
Who can lose it and forget it?
Who can have it and regret it?
Be interposer 'twixt us Twain.
Merchant of Venice
Gentlemen: I reverently believe that the Maker who made us all, makes everything in New England - but the weather. I don't know who makes that, but I think it must be raw apprentices in the Weather Clerk's factory, who experiment and learn how in New England, for board and clothes, and then are promoted to make weather for countries that require a good article, and will take their custom elsewhere if they don't get it. There is a sumptuous variety about the New England weather that compels the stranger's admiration - and regret. The weather is always doing something there; always attending strictly to business; always getting up new designs and trying them on the people to see how they will go. But it gets through more business in spring than in any other season. In the spring I have counted one hundred and thirty-six different kinds of weather inside of four and twenty hours. It was I that made the fame and fortune of that man that had that marvelous collection of weather on exhibition at the Centennial that so astounded the foreigners. He was going to travel all around the world and get specimens from all the climes. I said, "Don't you do it; you come to New England on a favorable spring day." I told him what we could do, in the way of style, variety, and quantity. Well, he came, and he made his collection in four days. As to variety - why, he confessed that he got hundreds of kinds of weather that he had never heard of before. And as to quantity - well, after he had picked out and discarded all that was blemished in any way, he not only had weather enough, but weather to spare; weather to hire out; weather to sell; to deposit; weather to invest; weather to give to the poor.
The people of New England are by nature patient and forbearing; but there are some things which they will not stand. Every year they kill a lot of poets for writing about "Beautiful Spring." These are generally casual visitors, who bring their notions of spring from somewhere else, and cannot, of course, know how the natives feel about spring. And so, the first thing they know, the opportunity to inquire how they feel has permanently gone by.
Old Probabilities has a mighty reputation for accurate prophecy, and thoroughly well deserves it. You take up the papers and observe how crisply and confidently he checks off what today's weather is going to be on the Pacific, down South, in the Middle States, in the Wisconsin region; see him sail along in the joy and pride of his power till he gets to New England, and then - see his tail drop. He doesn't know what the weather is going to be like in New England. He can't any more tell than he can tell how many Presidents of the United Sates there's going to be next year. Well, he mulls over it, and by and by he gets out something like this: Probable nor'-east to sou'-west winds, varying to the southard and westard and eastard points between; high and low barometer, swapping around from place to place; probably areas of rain, snow, hail, and drought, succeeded or preceded by earthquakes, with thunder and lightning. The he jots down the postscript from his wandering mind, to cover accidents: "But it is possible that the program may be wholly changed in the meantime."
Yes, one of the brightest gems in the New England weather is the dazzling uncertainty of it. There is only one thing certain about it, you are certain there is going to be plenty of weather - a perfect grand review; but you never can tell which end of the procession is going to move first. You fix up for the drought; you leave your umbrella in the house and sally out with your sprinkling pot, and ten to one you get drowned. You make up your mind that the earthquake is due; you stand from under, and take hold of something to steady yourself, and the first thing you know, you get struck by lightning. These are great disappointments. But they can't be helped. The lightning there is peculiar; it is so convincing! When it strikes a thing, it doesn't leave enough of that thing behind for you to tell whether - well, you'd think it was something valuable, and a Congressman had been there.
And the thunder. When the thunder commences to merely tune up, and scrape, and saw, and key up the instruments for the performance, strangers say, "Why, what awful thunder you have here!" But when the baton is raised and the real concert begins, you'll find that stranger down in the cellar, with his head in the ash barrel.
Now, as to the size of the weather in New England - lengthways, I mean. It is utterly disproportioned to the size of that little country. Half the time, when it is packed as full as it can stick, you will see that New England weather sticking out beyond the edges and prokecting around hundreds and hundreds of miles over the neighboring states. She can't hold a tenth part of her weather. You can see cracks all about, where she has strained herself trying to do it.
I could speak volumes about the inhuman perversity of the New England weather, but I will give but a single specimen. I like to hear rain on a tin roof, so I covered a part of my roof with tin, with an eye to that luxury. Well, sir, do you think it ever rains on the tin? No, sir; skips it every time.
Mind, in this speech I have been trying merely to do honor to the New England weather - no language could do it justic. But, after all, there are at least one or two things about that weather (or, if you please, effects produced by it) which we residents would not like to part with. If we hadn't our bewitching autumn foliage, we should still have to credit the weather with one feature which compensates for all its bullying vagaries - the ice storm - when a leafless tree is clothed with ice from the bottom to the top - ice that is as bright and clear as crystal; when every bough and twig is strung with ice beads, frozen dewdrops, and the whole tree sparkles, cold and white, like the Shah of Persia's diamond plume. Then the wind waves the branches, and the sun comes out and turns all those myriads of beads and drops to prisms, that glow and burn and flash with all manner of colored fires, which change and change again, with inconceivable rapidity, from blue to red, from red to green, and green to gold - the tree becomes a spraying fountain, a very explosion of dazzling jewels; and it stands there the acme, the climax, the supremest possibility in art or nature, of bewildering, intoxicating, intolerable magnificence! One cannot make the words too strong.
Month after month I lay up my hate and grudge against the New England weather; but when the ice storm comes at last, I say: "There - I forgive you, now - the books are square between us, you don't owe me a cent; go, and sin no more; your little faults and foibles count for nothing - you are the most enchanting weather in the world!"
-Mark Twain December 22, 1876"

That's better. This, by the way, is me resisting the temptation to transcribe the other three quarters of this volume I deem worthy of such a task. As you can see, I've become quite taken with the fellow; his style of writing, his audacity, his wit. I admire him a great deal. I say this especially because I look so rarely to American authors for inspiration: I who search for jewels in France and China when there are perfectly good ones callously overlooked sitting just outside my doorstep.
I'll be sure to follow up with you all about my grad school applications with whatever good news there is to be had! I gladly invest my time into the process of applying, knowing that this is a formative time of my career and thus my life. I'll be seeking respite in Paris for the weekend following a rather rigorous week of editing, correspondence and translation. Perhaps I'll be given the chance to celebrate Halloween amongst the French: my costume will be that of an American in Paris. :)

Ben

PS: Try as I may to render this post pleasing to the eye, I have failed at indenting the first line of each paragraph. My utmost apologies. If you have helpful hints, please feel free to offer them - I will make changes post haste.

Videos

2009-10-23T13:26:00.005+02:00

Hey all,

Here are two videos I've put together of my first few weeks in Angers. I have a few more that I'd love to post, but I'm only able to post them in a cafe, so they will be slow to make their way here.

I also uploaded my photos from my weekend in Brest to my photobucket.

Enjoy!
Ben

Pity Pater

2009-10-20T20:35:00.005+02:00

Hey all,

It is currently raining cats and dogs on my small window as I work away on my French Writing Sample and listen to Muse/Rise Against. Fortunately my window is on an angle, one of the benefits of living in the attic: the cats and dogs will not be crushed, just slightly battered and bruised as they make impact and subsequently roll down the shingled roof to cling to the eaves overflowing. Does a cat always land on its feet if it falls from the seventh floor? I hope so. If it weren't raining so much outside I might be able to tell you, but for now that inquiry will have to go unanswered.

Things are good; I just received a Halloween care package from my mom - I'll have to remember to talk to the kids in class about that peculiar holiday of costume and candy that approaches...

Right now the song most popular in France appears to be "Fuck You" by Lilly Allen. Thank goodness they don't censor the radio here; that song wouldn't have half the charm if it were stripped of its title.

I will try to upload pictures and videos on my photobucket: I have lots to share! They should be there come next week, so be sure to check them out.

Here is a photo I took of a stranger in the train station. I liked his outfit. I'd love to hear what all the Sartorialist fans think!

Here too are a couple photos from my weekend. I visited three enclos paroissiales, which were apparently all the rage in 17th century Bretagne. They're essentially local cemetaries with a bit more embellishment and a small chapel. I'm fascinated by the lugubrious gloom that these stone monuments to the dead, and they may conveniently work their way into my studies. Like Baudelaire, I find an elegant and mysterious beauty in all that is death... Creepy, huh? Unfortunately I forgot my camera on Saturday, which featured silver skies perfect for the appreciation of the melancholy, so the photos will have to stand the blow of blue skies.

Right now I'm doing some cursory readings of authors that straddle the 17th and 18th centuries - I'm currently reading Le Diable Boiteux(The Hobbling Devil) by Alain-Rene Lesage, which is a lot of fun (see above morbid fascination) but I will likely be reading some of Voltaire's plays and some Regnard in the next few days. Lesage's devil is actually Cupid (or Cupid is actually a demon) in a white overcoat and supported by crutches. Pretty cool - although I had a much lankier, creepier image of a demon Cupid.

The French National Library (BNF) has quite conveniently digitized a wealth of texts, from classic to modern, which makes for easy access to texts I normally wouldn't have access to: texts from the 18th, 19th century. They can be found and downloaded on Gallica.

Should any of you feel an overwhelming compulsion to send me anything at all (postcards appreciated), I might just consider returning the favor. My address is:

Lycée Joachim du Bellay
1 avenue Marie Talet
Angers 49105
FRANCE

Back to work! Wish me luck! I'll need it!

Bisous,
Benjamin (French accent plz)

Journal entry

2009-10-19T19:48:00.008+02:00

Hey all,

So I was on the five-hour train ride to Brest this weekend when I decided to write a little bit in my Moleskine, something I hadn't done in a while. You'll notice that my recent reading of Twain has had a marked effect on my writing...

Brest is a city on the western extremity of France and it was bombarded during WWII, leaving it just short of entirely demolished. So the architecture is mostly 50s-era apartment buildings, which are not quite as aesthetically pleasing as 17th-century architecture might be.

In Brest I tried couch surfing for the first time, which turned out really well. The way it works is: one signs up for an account on couchsurfing.org, completes a profile with personal information and searches for lodging in the destination of their travels. One contacts a host, who has also created a profile on the page, and once both parties agree that the stay will work out, they coordinate a time and location to meet and go from there.

It has the potential to be a great medium for cultural exchange - perfect strangers meet and coalesce/collide for the embetterment of each. Unfortunately, I only stayed one night and spent most of my time with a friend who is working in town. I look forward to my next encounter with couch surfing, perhaps in a week or so on a trip to Strasbourg!

This friend of mine showed me around what is just outside of Brest - a small town named Quimper, which was perfectly charming in the way smaller French towns are: cobbled streets, beautiful cathedrals, wandering locals, and cafes a-plenty. We also visited Morgat, which had a great view of the ocean and a cool old fort. All the while we ate plenty of crepes and drank cider by the pitcher, both of which are specialties of Bretagne - fun stuff!

A teacher at the high school was kind enough to lend me a bike! This might be my ticket to taking classes at the public university here, which is about an hour's walk away. I'm thinking Spanish, Chinese, French Lit or even a class in botany... who knows.

Still working on uploading 4 video compilations. I should be able to get them up this weekend. I'm currently knee-deep in grad school applications, and feeling a remarkable pressure to work on just that: fortunately, France takes the next two weeks off as a holiday, which will be perfect for finishing up applications. For those of you who remember my posts last year will recall that I went to Sweden to visit my friend Kim for the same break a year ago! Ahh time does fly.

Ciao!
Ben

PS: I left my fountain pen somewhere in Brest. I'm hoping it's in my friend's car and he can simply send it to me... Writing with a ballpoint certainly doesn't bide well for my handwriting, as far as legibility goes... and I sure am a sucker for the fountain pen look!

Fragments

2009-10-11T18:30:00.002+02:00

I sure wish exchanging smiles were easier here in France. Growing up in sunny California I developed a slightly awkward penchant to smile at anybody and everybody in an attempt to appear open, approachable and friendly. Here in France, where the muscular jaws seem to be permanently set on scowl mode, I quickly fade to a lighter shade of awkwardness as I start to question my permanent grin.

Meeting my friend at the Anglophone library yesterday, we perused a book sale where every book was priced at a euro. A sucker for old good books, I picked up six... a collection of Robert Frost's poems, some Keats, Charlotte Bronte's Jane Eyre, A Brave New World by Aldous Huxley and some English grammar stuff for my students.

The colors of the leaves are turning, and I'm looking forward to winter on the Maine river. Walking with my friend this afternoon, I tasted October on the air and swayed about in a slightly euphoric nostalgia as I pounded the cobblestones. Things are good, not marvelous. I wouldn't have it any other way.

Cafe hopping

2009-10-07T11:07:00.003+02:00

At long last, thanks to a cafe studded with Jean-Paul Belmundo posters, voila my "first" post in France. Pictures on their way soon; it will be much easier once I get my flashdrives...

Hey all,

It is 10:30pm France time on Tuesday, September 30th.

Tomorrow I observe my first class, the beginning of a week-long period of observation before I am expected to teach 12 classes, each one hour a week.

I just got back from watching Grand Torino with some of the students; there is a movie screening every Wednesday night, and more often than not, it's an American film.

I've plunged myself into life in Angers - I met yesterday with an English professor who gave me a brief tour of my workplace for the next year. Everyone, from professors to staff members, has been very warm in welcoming me to the school. It seems that there is a tradition of assistants at the school, and I feel like anything but an intruder.

Determined to get the ball rolling on life here, I set out directly after my meeting with the professor yesterday and changed my bank account from Bordeaux to Angers. I then walked what seemed to be about two miles down a main street in search of a few necessities and a bike to rent for the year. Based on the size of the town, a bike would be a great resource! Not to mention I brought a bike lock and lights from my home in California with just that in mind. In any case, I was not able to rent the bike: I was missing a document quite commonly asked for here, which is called a Justificatif de domicile. Essentially, they want to confirm that I do in fact have a fixed location and am not simply a bum looking to pawn off public property. On the way back from getting the bike, I walked down smaller, prettier streets, stumbling upon such monuments as the musee des beaux-arts (the fine arts museum), the theatre, and crowds of people, local and strange alike.

The streets of Angers are very beautiful - though not as old-looking as the streets of Bordeaux, there are plenty of small cobbled streets which humble the presence of the larger, newer buildings. A clean, white-washed stone architecture pervades the city center, giving it a fresh look without being hideously post-modern. Unfortunately, there is a great deal of construction going on - Angers is one of the towns rather late in the process of building a tramway, and it's not something that's done overnight. Plus, in the name of efficacy, it is the most significant parts of town that are under construction, which grieves not only bumbling passers-by, but locals as well.

Last night, the fellow who will be living next door to me for the next few days invited me out to watch a soccer game; Lyon vs. some team from Holland. You'll excuse my having forgotten their name, but Lyon absolutely crushed them. It was a fun night out, and though I was falling asleep towards the end thanks to a ruthless hit of jetlag, I had an overall good time.

I moved into my room on the sixth floor of the arts & sciences building, which is also the boys' dormitory on one side. The facade is rather modern, as is the interior. My room itself is rather like the attic, with a slanted ceiling furthest from the door and a small ensconced window. It is rather large, however, considering how low the rent is. I won't give you the exact price, but I will tell you it is a number consisting of two digits, monthly, utilities included. :) There doesn't appear to be anyone else on the floor, and as far as I have heard that will be the case for the year, so I pretty much have a floor to myself, which means that I thus have the communal bathroom to myself. The flat's size, price, and proximity make it an ideal place to make my home for the next year.

Two drawbacks are: the lack of internet, which could be a positive depending on your perspective, and the state of some of its features. I can't yet open the window, which makes things a bit stuffy, and the electric outlets decided to work only long enough to make myself a cup of tea this evening. Nothing that can't be solved, however! I've already requested help with the window, and I will be sure to inquire about the outlets tomorrow. The lack of internet, however, means less access to communication: the many nights I spent on Skype in Bordeaux chatting with my mom or friends may be far fewer than I had anticipated. We shall see.

Going through my drawers yesterday, I had a few pleasant surprises waiting for me. Yes, me. They were: 4 empty folders, handy for fitting A4-format paper; 50 envelopes for letters domestic and international; 1 stack of printer paper, 3 maps of the town, 1 bag of Twinings Earl Grey tea, 1 box of band-aids, 7 tealight candles, 1 bottle of shaving cream, 1 bottle of contact lens solution, 1 iron, 2 rolls of paper towels, 2 rolls of plastic bags for the waste baskets, 1 bag of disposable cups, 2 tubes of toothpaste, 20 coat hangers, 1 set of towels, and 1 large three-ringed binder. You'll notice that I have put the large three-ringed binder at the foot of this tall inventory. There is, I assure you, a good reason for this. But before going into that, I would like to simply give thanks to whoever decided to put those articles there: they make up a large part of what I consider an especially warm welcome from everyone here in Angers.

The binder. Oh, the binder. Some good soul decided to write 53 pages on the life of a Language Assistant in Angers at the Lycee Joachim du Bellay. I nearly shed tears of joy opening the pages of this tome, seeing how beautifully its written and how resourceful it was. Concise, funny, and free of all grammar/spelling errors that I could catch, it is chock full of advice for navigating French bureaucracy, high society dinners, and the school's administration. It also has short reviews of bars, pubs, laundromats, and restaurants with addresses. Informal tips on French society and teaching French high schoolers are the higher points of what seems to be a complete work. It is nothing short of a gift from Heaven itself. Not to mention the classy young man/lady who decided to take on the task of writing this beastly thing decided to start it all off with a quote from Mark Twain, which I've included below.

"We wish to learn all the curious, outlandish ways of all the different countries, so that we can 'show off' and astonish people when we get home. We wish to excite the envy of our untraveled friends with our strange foreign fashions, which we can't shake off. All our passengers are paying strict attention to this thing, with the end in view which I mentioned. The gentle reader will never, never know what a consummate ass he can become, until he goes abroad. I speak now, of course, in the supposition that the gentle reader has not been abroad, and therefore is not alread a consummate ass. If the case be otherwise, I beg his pardon and extend to him the cordial hand of fellowship and call him brother. I shall always delight to meet an ass after my own heart when I shall have finished my travels." - Mark Twain, The Innocents Abroad

A la prochaine fois,
Benjamin

Update!

2009-10-06T17:35:00.003+02:00

Short update:

I went downtown today and bought a new power cable for my laptop. Although it set me back a bit, it will be worth it in the long run.

I was hoping I'd be able to pop into the computer lounge and send off my Statement of Purpose to some very generous eyes, but alas I only have access to email or blogspot from the lab computers and not my own. The purpose, as well as an old blog post, will have to wait until I get a flashdrive, which should arrive by the end of the week.

I start teaching tomorrow at 8am! Don't know quite what to do with them yet - I have choices! Will be working on that tonight.

Wish me luck!

Ben

Roughin' It

2009-10-02T17:30:00.005+02:00

Hey all,

So I find myself in the teachers' computer lab trying to eek out what will be as close to a satisfying blog post as I'll get until I a) get a working power cord for my recently out-of-service laptop and b) get a flash drive through which I can zap pre-written blog posts, statements of purpose and other savory delights from one computer to another.

So please be patient - I'm doing what I can!

Things are going very well here in Angers - I hesitate to expound too much on the developments as I've got a sizeable post typed and ready for publishing on my quiet little laptop, but I'll try to do what justice I can with the events which have yet to be recorded.

Finding a bike to rent has been a bit of an ordeal, and it doesn't look as if it's going to get any better - in France, it is quite common in smaller cities (aka anything but the all-imposing Paris) to find a city service which lends bikes for FREE. This is a service I took advantage of last year in Bordeaux, and I have every intention to do the same here in Angers. The problem here is that there are not enough bikes. Racing out of class and setting out on a half-hour walk to the rental place, I found several people waiting outside. They, apparently, had beaten me to the chase. Arriving at 4am to wait until 10 was the key, they said. Speaking with the clerk, he suggested doing either that or coming later in the afternoon, in the hopes of a return. I will go some day later in the afternoon.

I will start teaching next Thursday - until then I'm observing classes, introducing myself and trying to scrum up some semblance of a lesson plan. (see below)

That isn't blood, mind you: it's the latest in runny ink cartridges that loves nothing better than explode all over my hand and incite fear among the more innocent French. Any input is appreciated! Especially if they're in the form of tongue twisters. Oh if only I could capture a film of French highschoolers trying to wrap their mouths around those shells that she sells up on the seashore... You would surely receive a copy of it, neatly wrapped, as a birthday present.

I am very happy with my room. Earlier today I made a small investment in pillows for a wicker chair and a throw for the floor, promising myself that making oneself comfortable is well worth a bit of money. Even if that money is in the form of Euros...

I got a card at the Anglophone Library yesterday, which should be a cool resource! My friend Welly, who just happens to be doing her master's here in Angers (we met in Bordeaux), said that they feed English speakers pizza and drinks once a month... aren't we special?? In any case, I checked out Five Plays by Oscar Wilde and a collection of Mark Twain's works. I'm hoping to make up for lost time, familiarizing myself a bit with the English/American canon so that I'm not put to shame every time I talk to a French student.

One of the professors I'm working with is quite interested in the US, and I've been able to have some really engaging conversations with her. I'm looking forward to working with her and her students, who are in their second year of preparatoire. Preparatoire is a program in which the best students from high school undergo extremely condensed lessons in just about everything - it is the hardest part of a student's career, and entirely optional. At the end of two years of what must be either Heaven or Hell, they must pass a national exam, a concours, and will then proceed to attend the most prestidgious universities in the country, depending on their scores. These kids are sharp, and I'll be able to have fun tossing them poetry and literature, as well as discussing politics and philosophy.

The classes I'll be teaching will resemble sections, with no more than 15 students in a class. I'll be teaching 12 hours a week, Wednesday - Friday. I'm thrilled.

I will be sure to send pictures as soon as my computer starts working again!

Hope you see me soon!

Ben

In Angers!

2009-09-28T19:06:00.002+02:00

Hey all,

It is 2:50am California time, 11:50am France time.

I just touched down in Paris and, after playing musical chairs with my train tickets, will arrive in Angers two hours earlier than expected. This is good news and bad: I am glad that I will be able to see the high school before its closing at 6pm, and perhaps move in to the room where I'll be staying for the next 9 months! It is a bad thing, however, in that I had planned to be picked up at the train station by a teacher at the school. Not only was she going to pick me up, she was going to feed me dinner and let me crash chez elle for the night!

I'm hoping I will simply run into her/intercept her at the school before six rolls around. If only my cell phone was activated for the month of September... ah well. Pay phones work too!

The nine-hour flight went by far faster than I had expected! I watched a good film called "On va te manquer" and listened to Johnny Cash to pass the time. The great food served by Air France didn't hurt any, either: I had requested low-sodium meals on a whim, only to realize that my meals were served a good ten minutes before anyone else's. Though a bit awkward, I got the most delightful ego inflation out of the deal.

Leaving Albany was hard - having had such an eventful, productive summer, it was hard to believe that anything could top the sheer pleasure I had of coming home after a long stay abroad. I worked for ten solid weeks, spent quality time with friends old and new alike, saw my only sister get married, got to know San Francisco better, began an ongoing gardening project in my mother's backyard, cleaned out the garage, and learned how to lay brick. I got teary-eyed thinking that I won't see my mom for a long time, and had a hard time leaving my old cat, Mercy, who I worry may not be around when I return. We've spent a good fifteen years together, and he's the best pet I could ask for.

Caught up in looking back on all the great things that have happened this summer, I lost sight of what lay before me: a trip back to a country that I am slowly coming to love, a language that feels more and more like home, and an adventure unlike any other. This year I hope to be completely financially independent of my mother, earning my wages as a teacher and learning to budget. Needless to say, this is going to be an exciting, formative year for young Benjamin Calder Hair.

Waiting for baggage claim, I got to talking with two other guys who had gotten off the same flight - they were two Marseillais who had just returned from spending a week of vacation in San Francisco! I got to chatting with them and I'm going to plan a visit to Marseille soon... perhaps at the end of October.

Speaking of traveling, I'll be making my way to Brest, a college city at the westernmost extremity of France, Bretagne (Brittany) on the 14th of the month. I'll be paying a visit to Assistant Prof. Francalanza, a professor who had taught two of my classes in Bordeaux and will be writing a letter of recommendation for my graduate school application. For those who don't know, I'm applying to various PhD programs across the US in Comparative Literature and French. Were I to be accepted, I would start graduate studies Fall 2010. If I am not accepted, I will most likely stay to teach another year here in France.

As one would imagine, I'm very excited about the prospect of pursuing a PhD - applying and being accepted is the single most significant step on my career path following the obtention of my Bachelor's Degree. I am applying across the nation - North Carolina, California, New York, Wisconsin, New Jersey... I'm seeing it as an opportunity to see another part of the country about which I feel I know so little.

I'm currently reading a novel lent to me by a friend of a friend, Caroline. The book is entitled Please Don't Call Me Human, and it was written by Wang Shuo in 1989. It is an extremely satirical piece on late 20th century communist China, and it would provide laughs far less painful had the social ills which incited the satire not become so dramatically virulent in the past twenty years. Corruption, greed, and excessive pride run rampant, and though I'm only halfway through, I can tell that Shuo has no intention of sparing any of his characters any kind of sympathy; he is absolutely ruthless, and perfectly justified in being such.

A smile the size of a watermelon slice has spread its way across my face as my ears bask in the radiance of the French language.

It's 7pm, and I am currently chez the teacher who offered to take me in for my first night in Angers - I wasn't able to move right in to my room at the school (at which many male students live as well, along with the other language assistants), so I will be staying with her and her husband for the night. She very kindly drove me to her place, which is a bit removed from the city center, and now we are settling in, getting ready for dinner.

I had arrived in the town at 4pm, and at the high school at 4:30. The teacher who was to take me in was teaching until 6pm, and I found myself with an hour and a half to kill. I took advantage to soak in what I could from the town by foot. My first stop, the Jardin des Plantes, is gorgeous - about the same size as Bordeaux's Jardin Public, there is a beautiful lake in the middle with a small waterfall. The flowers are amazing, and more than a few formidable trees broke up the stunning colors. What suprised me most was a windy purple plant that looked like a mini alien tree - upon closer inspection, I realized it was no other than kale! The same stuff I'm growing in my mom's backyard is principally featured in a public garden! And let me tell you, it was a glorious plant - a deep, taro purple were the stalks while the huge crinkled leaves were a darker purple-green. Unreal. Photos soon.

The town is under construction for a tramway which they hope to have in two or three years, so thus far it hasn't been much to look at. I suspect with time, and especially a bike, I will gain a deeper appreciation of the city's style.

Ciao!
Ben

Caneles in the USA!

2009-09-04T01:20:00.003+02:00

Hey all,

So I made some caneles last night using the professional copper tins, which go a long way to creating a good crunchy crust without sacrificing the custard inside. I was not only excited to use these tins, but also to make these Bordelais delicacies in the US. I was really happy to be able to bring a bit of Bordeaux back to my mom's kitchen - and to her! The tins are officially hers!

Ciao,
Ben

My Birthday!

2009-09-02T19:17:00.003+02:00

Hey all,

Today is my birthday! Though I'm not big on overblowing the whole birthday thing, I'm looking forward to a good day, one of many in what is turning out to be a great summer.

Ben

Sayonara

2009-08-22T07:23:00.003+02:00

Hey all,

Today was the last day of summer camp. After working there for ten weeks, I'm leaving my fun summer job proud and eager. I biked the 3.5-mile path to work pretty much every day, leaving at 6:30a and returning at about 4:30p. Thanks to Stefan for making that beautiful bike available to me! I played a little bit for the camp's intramural soccer team, which ended up winning the championship! I learned how to stretch my patience with campers, and when patience is the last thing they need. I flexed my creative muscles, pouncing on every opportunity to speak with campers in other languages, or chances to incorporate stories into activities. This reminded me of just how valuable storytelling is, even in the age of video games.

I also realized just how much I crave structure; though I insisted that it was a necessity for the campers, oftentimes I found it was I who relied on it the most. I'm learning to invest more in taking care of myself; my allergies are more than seasonal, and not something I can afford to brush off. I also woke up physically to my body's needs: though the sedentary lifestyle suits my studious tendencies well, it's borderline deadly when it comes to relationships. If I want to be happy, I need the energy to spend time with the people that make me happy: without exercise, I don't have that energy.

Last night, I attended my mom's weekly meditation class, where I listened to a talk given by Phagyab Rinpoche. It was lengthy (his words were being translated), but well worth it. After, she took me out for boba, which I had been craving all week. Normally I get red bean, but recently I've taken to hot black sesame boba on cold nights... yum. I love Berkeley.

Last weekend, I went on a rampage in my mom's backyard. The normally hard dirt had turned into clay from slight neglect, and last Saturday I felt the satisfaction of tilling the soil of my home. There are plants happily living there now, and I plan to give them some more neighbors before debarking for France at the end of September.

I'll be teaching at a high school in Angers. Assuming I get my visa, that is...

The end of camp also indicates a shift in priorities: instead of making my lunch the day before and investing everything I've got in the days to come, I'll be working on an application for graduate school. If accepted, I'm looking at the biggest step of my career. I'll be getting a PhD in Comparative Literature, for the curious among you.

Summed up, this night is bittersweet. But once we've acknowledged the bitterness, it only allows for a deeper appreciation of the sweet. So I'm indulging my sweet tooth tonight with happy reflections on my past, present, and future.

Best,
Ben

Springfall

2009-08-02T21:58:00.002+02:00

Hey all,

My life has been for the past few months content.

I've been reading and practicing my characters, both of which elicit a kind of guiltless joy which puts up a struggle when neglected. The characters and books draw my to them with an inexplicably strong magnetism. I take it at its face value and try not to pollute it with too many thoughts.

I've been waking up early and riding a bike, seeing a landscape that has been familiar for 21 years with new eyes. I'm learning to appreciate that ever present fog as a feeble bond between Earth and the heavens. I'm also learning to appreciate the dismissal of rational thinking.

I'm doing work that gives me great pride and pleasure. And although I get lazy, frustrated and tired from time to time, there is a pervading sense of purpose that lifts me by the hips and spins me around until I'm giddy. I've consciously glided through the past two months of my life, and I wouldn't have it any other way.

Now that I've wiped the dust off the blog with dry palms, I think I'll moisten them and attempt the same for my Moleskine.

Ben

Exuberance

2009-06-24T05:15:00.002+02:00

Hey all,

So I've started my job as a camp counselor; halfway through my second week, and things are going well. I found that during my time in France, I got very serious, almost to the point of surly. I was turning into an old man. And, at twenty-one years of experience playing the game of life, that's a bad sign.

Fortunately, I fell into what is the perfect cure for fogey-ness. Surrounding myself with children. So, at the moments when I feel goofy, random, or just plain clever, I have pairs of ears pining for my attention. An on the contrary, when I am bogged down, dragging my feet and lamenting my cruel fate for all the bite-sized obstacles god(s) has thrown me, I have only to see a smile or hear a laugh to remind myself that life is just too good to give in. To give in to weakness, fatigue, sorrow.

So buck up!

Ben

Back in the Bay!

2009-06-07T17:00:00.002+02:00

Hey all,

So, I just hit the one-week mark. I've officially been back on American soil for seven days!

I'm keeping busy reading some Dickens, cleaning out the garage, and tentatively getting a grad school application together. All this, of course, subject to long hours of time wasted on the computer.

So far, the best part has been seeing friends and family; catching up on the Earth-shaking events that have gone untold for the past nine months has been a leisurely, reflective experience. After all, put in perspective, the most dramatic events that have crossed my path have often become minor, though significant, in retrospect. But it's been sharing these experiences and re-hashing things past that has kept me close, and even brought me closer to friends and family, old and new.

A friend asked if I missed France: a totally legitimate question! And for the moment, my disappointingly simple answer is "no"! I'm happy to be back in California (granted, it's only been a week), and I'll be back in France soon enough. What I do miss, and which I have truly appreciated over the past nine months, is operating in French: making small talk in French, sharing simple interactions, and having in-depth discussions in French are all things I'm missing out on right now. A good compromise has been listening to French radio, and I'm currently trying to get in touch with some native French speakers that would like to practice their English.

It's also been interesting seeing my life in France clumsily integrate itself with my lifestyle here. Riding a bike, eating yogurt (mmm plain yogurt!), taking walks, and reading in the park are all things I've been able to do just as well here as in France.

This post is seeming painfully boring (I'm talking about yogurt for goodness sake), so I'm going to cut it short and fill y'all in when I've got something more interesting to say.

Navigating Sentimental Clouds

2009-05-21T01:29:00.000+02:00

Hey,

I'm in a funny place right now. It's a state of emotional limbo that lies somewhere in between a realist's heaven and hell. The past few days, I've floated in and out of the conscious realization of the fact that I am living part of my dream: I am in France, speakingsmellingsavoring French. I leave the house in the morning surrounded by amazing architecture that has made a lifelong impression upon my concept of beauty. In all its imperfection (for it wouldn't be perfect if it were flawless), Bordeaux right now is my heaven.

But so is California and everything/everyone associated with it. Which brings me to what I'm going to call hell, for lack of a more neutral term. I'm not going to rattle off a list of the things I miss in California, but lets just say that it transcends the material and slips into a more cultural realm: the mindset of the state, the general approach to life, which differs oh-so-much from what I have been living here in Bordeaux. Like Bordeaux, this heaven will always have its shortcomings, which is part of the reason why I love it so much.

I can't say that I'm okay with this limbo, or that I've made peace with it: it can be exhausting at times, especially right now, when I've got so much to be happy about! I'm leaving tomorrow afternoon for Nantes, a city in the Northwest of France to spend an evening with friends I lost touch with six years ago. I can't put in words the anticipation for this trip; though it's only for a day, I feel like it's a day I spend with my old self, seeing how much or how little I have changed through this wonderful family's eyes; individual closure, if you will.

Friday afternoon, soon after I return to Bordeaux, my friend Julie is paying me a visit from Paris, which should be awesome as well! Hearing jazz, maybe watching a soccer game (I went to one last week! The local team is #1 in France!), seeing a movie, going to the beach, and visiting Montesquieu's chateau are all on the menu. And after such a charged few days, I get to look forward to packing up and shipping off for home! In all honesty, I feel blessed (ugh can't believe I just used that word) to have what I have and be where I am, right now.

I'm going to make this a short post, wrapping it up with what has become a mantra, without the brand names or little TM signs. Be here, now. As easy as it is to get caught up with what has yet to come, I've found it's crucial for me to ground myself firmly in the present, not only for the sake of my own happiness, but practical purposes as well! I look forward to the days that lie in wait, but for now returning to my book and going to bed is just fine with me.

Ben

PS: I've decided to continue this blog through the summer, and perhaps changing the title next Fall to something that has to do with Nantes, where I'll be teaching English. I'll 'tag' posts with "Bordeaux", "Berkeley" and "Bretagne" or something like that so things will be a little more organized.

Canelés!

2009-05-17T23:53:00.006+02:00

Hey all,

So I finally succeeded in making edible canelés! Not only were they edible - they were tasty! As if bathing in the accolades I received from the host brother and host father weren't enough, I decided to make a video to share the experience with all of you!

I'm always looking for ways to take culture with me, without submitting to the typical pack-rat tendencies of souvenir gathering, which gets tacky quickly. Reading, learning recipes and sharing them, conversating, and writing have become my preferred forms of imbibing, processing, and regurgitating culture.

I also thought I'd fill you in on a tentative summer reading list. Upon speaking with many international people about literature, I realized how little justice I had done my native language, English! I can't begin to tell you how guilty I felt to be lectured on Virgina Woolf without having read a single thing she had written. In a perfect world, I suppose, we would be able to read everything ever written in every language ever extant. That could prove for quite boring conversations, however.

Would love for people to join me in reading them so we could discuss some of the themes! Also free to post stuff in the comment box if you have suggestions! Especially poetry.

The Sun Also Rises, by Ernest Hemmingway
Leaves of Grass, by Walt Whitman
A Tale of Two Cities, by Charles Dickens
Letter to a Young Poet, Mrs. Dalloway, by Virginia Woolf
The Great Gatsby, The Short Stories of F. Scott Fitzgerald, by F. Scott Fitzgerald
Ulysses, by James Joyce
The Gift, by Toni Morrison
A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius, by Dave Eggers
Alice's Adventures in Wonderland, by Lewis Carroll
Howl, by Allen Ginsberg
Jane Eyre, by Charlotte Brontë
Mansfield Park, by Jane Austen
The Complete Poems of Emily Dickinson, by Emily Dickinson
The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock, by T.S. Eliot
A Raisin in the Sun, by Langston Hughes
The Yellow Wallpaper, by Charlotte Gilman
The Good Earth, by Pearl S. Buck

By the way, I fully recognize that getting through all these books while working full-time and installing a raised bed in my mom's backyard is going to be a challenge! Let's just say I'd like a wake-up call after life in the slow lane following two months of strikes here in Bordeaux.

Bisous,
Ben

Happy Mother's Day!

2009-05-10T22:06:00.004+02:00

Hey all,

Happy Mother's Day!

I just spent last weekend (4/30 - 5/4) in Paris! It was amazing; I did a million things! Traveling alone opens up a world of possibilities that come only with independence. Loneliness is the price you pay for that independence. Fortunately, I was able to meet just enough people to feel just fine alone.

I spent most of Friday at Versailles, an extravagant garden that showcases the wealth of Louis XIV, the king of France from 1661-1715. He called himself "Le Roi Soleil" or "The Sun King", which is where I got the idea behind my blog URL, which was originally used for a course on the fella.

Thoroughly satisfied, but wiped out from a long day in the sun, I rested for a bit at the hostel before meeting my California friends Sherry and Stacey in the 13th arrondissement (district) for dinner. I confirmed the rumors that the 13th is the place to go for cheap Chinese food! On Saturday I would have lunch in the 10th following a tip I had gotten about Vietnamese sandwiches; I would definitely be more willing to call the Belleville stop in the 10th French Chinatown than the Maison Blanche stop in the 13th, where I got dinner the night before. There are far more restaurants, as well as a predominantly Sino-Vietnamese community, and the area seems like it's got some history behind it.

I spent Saturday morning at an Andy Warhol exhibit at the Grand Palais, the same place I went to see the Picasso exhibit earlier in the semester. I hate to sound like a snob, but I didn't think it was great; I feel like the mass reproduction of Warhol's stuff (be it his doing or not) has made him mainstream to the point that there's very little that is surprising or interesting for a media-imbued culture zombie like myself. His work with diamond dust surprised me, though; the lavish idea of using them as a kind of sheen to his work profoundly struck me. I felt like it called upon Americans to recognize that a mineral is a mineral, and whatever value we have attributed to them is completely secondary from their generation.

That night I would meet Lauriane, one of the host family's daughters, in the 5th arrondissement for dinner. This might be my new favorite area of Paris: a happy balance of young energy from the law school and other universities nearby mixed well with the beautiful old buildings, spawning short bursts of artistic energy that shrink and swell in different ways throughout Paris.

Sunday morning I went to the Centre Pompidou to see an exhibit on Alexander Calder, an American sculptor and my namesake (Benjamin Calder Hair). There is a great deal of nostalgia that goes along with his work, but there's also the fact that it's just good stuff. He excelled in what he called "drawing in the air", bringing long thin lines of wire into profiles of people, often turning them into three-dimensional caricatures.

I was happily surprised by a Kandinsky exhibit happening at the same time; I didn't know much about him, and still don't - I spent far more time at the Calder exhibit, which interested me much more. Kandinsky's use of colors was amazing, though - there was an audacity in his approach to the canvas that blew me away, even if I didn't like how the piece turned out on the whole. I overheard a fellow giving what seemed to be an impromptu tour of the exhibit who said that Kandinsky actually had a disorder that made colors literally resonate with him, producing frequencies. This guy could hear colors! Crazy stuff.

I got a quick lunch, thinking I was going to race off if I wanted to see Sainte Chapelle and le Pantheon in one day. Fortunately, I ended up having just enough time on my hands; getting lost and crossing the Seine five times in an hour made me earn it, that's all... Sainte Chappelle was much smaller than I expected (I think they worked on a more human scale in the 13th century), but very beautiful, though brimming with tourists.

I really liked the Pantheon - it, too, is smack dab in the 5th arrondissement, a straight shot from the Luxembourg Gardens. It's a very cold, dry building in and out, which is fully appropriate considering it is home to the ashes of many great French thinkers and generals. Among them are Voltaire, Rousseau, Zola, and Dumas. Though it doesn't quite merit a second trip, it certainly was special to be so close to the tangible remains of these visionaries who, in my mind, had become idealized (even deified) to an almost mythical extent.

I stocked up on rou bao 肉包 (pork buns), jiaozi 餃子 (potstickers), and tofu 豆腐 before hopping onto the Metro to go back to Bordeaux Monday morning, barely making my train by ten minutes!

Fortunately, I got back in time to set my things down and decompose for a bit before heading back out to work; right now my work at BabyLangues is the realest sense of meaning in my life, since the stressful comfort of school has been stripped from me for upwards of two months now.

I'm happy to be back in Bordeaux, but definitely ready to return to California. I feel like I've done what I need to do here, and the water is quickly stagnating: without a full-time job, classes, or the money to travel, I will have to become a bit more resourceful with my time. The GRE is calling, I suppose! I've started sending out requests to meet with my former professors in order to discuss my graduate school options; I sure wish I could ask for some of my French professors at Bordeaux for letters of recommendation!

I've posted a few pictures and videos on my photobucket, so it might be worth checking it out if you'd like to see some more recent photos of me and where I've been!

France 2, one of six broadcast channels on French television, sat in on my atelier Wednesday evening, developing on what appears to be a growing interest in BabyLangues, the company for which I work. Here's a link to the video; it's not long, but it's all in French... I'm only at the last two seconds or so, so... yeah. The page you open will ask you to download Silverlight; if that doesn't interest you, make sure to click on "Ou bien retrouvez une version simplifiée en cliquant ici." Cliquer = "to click". Gotta love Anglicisms... hahaha

Best,
Ben

Morocco Video!

2009-04-26T23:05:00.004+02:00

Hey all,

After much time and hard work, here is one of two Morocco video compilations that I am going to make. The first is a bunch of movies I took on the way to the Sahara Desert. By the way, my friend Houman found a video of a beautiful prayer call in Turkey; very similar to the ones we heard in Morocco! The second video is pretty much everything else; I'll explain it when I post it. I worked really hard on this one, so please let me know what you think!!!

I just finished Les Liaisons Dangereuses today, and picked up the host family's collection of XIII comics. XIII is a series about an American secret agent who lost his memory - Bourne Identity-type thing. I love the video game that came out about six years ago for game cube, and thought I'd give the comic a chance!
Ben

Class

2009-04-22T14:04:00.012+02:00

Hey all,

Things have been going really well teaching - though technical difficulties in the multimedia room take up more time than I'd like, I feel very accomplished after three days, and look forward to the last two with anticipation!

I'm learning how important structure is in my work habits: I establish reasonable goals before starting, but gladly sacrifice certain goals if bigger, better ones present themselves in the course of the day.

I'm putting these kids through the ringer: yesterday and today, we've worked up food-related vocabulary, and today I had them order a full meal from a made-up menu. I had them take turns reading through a New Yorker article from the Talk of the Town section yesterday, and today they read an article about voter turnout in the 2008 election from the San Francisco Chronicle.

I've incorporated a ton of music in my curriculum: I provide them with lyrics, hand-written with my fountain pen, which they read before and after listening to the song. After, I mostly answer vocabulary questions, though I wish we could discuss songs as poetry... at first I thought it was due to lack of comprehension, but then I realized they're just not as passionate about poetry as I am!

So far we've listened to (day 1) "Blackbird", by The Beatles, "A Man of Constant Sorrow", by the Soggy Bottom Boys, (day 2) "Sleeping In" and "Such Great Heights" by The Postal Service, and (today) "It's Not Easy Being Green" and "The Rainbow Connection" by Mr. Kermit the Frog. I indulged today, giving them lyrics and showing them more songs: "In The Garage" by Weezer, "We Are Going to be Friends" by The White Stripes, and "Dance With the Devil" by Immortal Technique. After listening to Immortal Technique, a gritty underground rapper, I felt compelled to lighten things up a bit with "Shake Your Tail Feather" by Ray Charles and "Big Rock Candy Mountain" by Harry McClintock - neither of which were supplied with lyrics.

On Friday, my class of seniors (terminal) and a class of juniors (premier) will spend the last hour and a half of class watching "The Graduate" with English subtitles. I'm really excited, not only because it's one of my favorite films (and oh-so-French... an older woman training a younger man in the ways of love? Come on!), but also because part of it takes place in Berkeley!!! Though seeing the Campanile and Sather Gate will surely provoke a longing for home, it will be fun showing this group of French adolescents exactly where I'm from!

For the first time, my students asked me to tell them about California - something that, though excited and happy to share, I wasn't prepared for. An awkward conversation followed in which I stumbled over myself, both trying to give them a sense of the Berkeley/San Francisco I know without reinforcing/creating stereotypes.

After class, I caught up with my friend Stephen, a fellow temporary English teacher: he wisely preceded a talk about California with an establishment of stereotypes. He proposed an exchange: he tells them about American culture if they will tell him about French culture (as much as we're curious about French culture, this is a ruse to get the excessively timid French students to speak more than anything else). After his breaking the ice with a few typical American stereotypes, the French students felt more comfortable suggesting their perspective. Here's a photo he took with his iPhone of the white board after having done the activity:

I swelled with a familiar combination of admiration and jealousy when he told me about the activity, spiked with a tinge of regret for not having conducted a similar exercise before jumping right into my awkward discussion. Though reluctant to weigh down the atmosphere once again tomorrow, I'm tempted to discuss stereotypes with my students tomorrow, which would work very well with the clips of Martin Luther King, Jr. speeches and Bob Marley songs which I've prepared in advance... I think I'll plan an alternative, decide which one I prefer, and have them decide; that has worked very well in the past.

Today I will try making ratatouille, and if I'm feeling ambitious, will prepare canele batter for this weekend...

Ben

Update: The ratatouille was a success! I could have cut the garlic larger, instead of pulverizing it and burning it, and it could use some salt.

First Day Teaching

2009-04-20T17:47:00.003+02:00

Hey all,

Wow. I just finished my first day 'teaching' as a scab English teacher at a nearby high school. For the first time, the high school is offering conversational English classes during the two-week long Easter break, and the salaried English teachers are boycotting. It attracts exchange students and retired Anglophones like ants to a log.

I have a newfound appreciation for teachers. Not only had I forgotten my main course material (New Yorker articles) at home, I didn't have a pen for my white board for the first half-hour of the three-hour long class. Calling it 'awkward' hardly comes close to how it felt.

Three hours, you say? Oh, no, it's not that bad. Fortunately French students are really chatty, especially in a foreign language they hardly know. Argh.

I take great solace knowing that I will learn much from this experience, and will get paid pretty darn well too. And, as the sucker for a beating that I am, I look forward to jumping right back into it tomorrow morning, better-equipped and much more comfortable.

Just tossed a batch of cannelés in the oven; thought I'd master the Bordeaux specialty before heading back to California at the end of May!

Other than that, I'm just working on the final papers for a couple classes, studying for the GRE which I'll be taking in June, and closing up shop here in Bordeaux.

Ben

Update: The cannelés couldn't have turned out worse. Not only did I burn them into tiny carbon blocks, I had mistaken salt for sugar... As if it's my fault my host family keeps a copious amount of salt in a clear container! :( fortunately, enough of my tastebuds survived the bitter defeat to fight another day...

...And Now For Something Completely Different

2009-04-13T22:59:00.003+02:00

Hey all,

So, um... this has absolutely nothing to do with France. I just thought it was too cute to not share.

http://www.tweenbots.com/

Best,
Ben

mmm...

2009-04-11T19:32:00.004+02:00

Hey all,

So following my last post, I'm taking the hint that pictures work when it comes to seeking comments! Hahah let's see if I can keep it going...

Last night was a bit nuts; the parents are at the country home for the weekend, so I'm alone at the house with the son, Timothee, and the youngest daughter, Lauriane. Lauriane doesn't come by often, and I know neither of them cook much, so I offered to whip something up for dinner.

Of course, it wasn't until 6pm that Lauriane let me know she was interested in taking me up on the offer; and that she'd invited a couple of friends to join us. Cool, I thought: but what is there to cook? With an empty fridge and two hours to get groceries, I was at a loss. The kids suggested frozen pizza; "Blasphemy!" I cried, refusing to sacrifice this opportunity to show off my skills in the kitchen.

Biking full speed to Auchan, the French equivalent of Wal-Mart, in a torrential downpour that I hesitate to dismiss as simple rain, I rushed through, picking up the bare basics for dinner, tortellini for the next two nights and some 18-month old Comte that was super on sale... I'm a sucker for good cheese.

Rushed back home and got to work, forcing back the haunting flashbacks of the 2-kilo lamb leg ordeal in Paris. Fortunately, the girls were late and ended up arriving more towards 9pm. 9:30 came around, and we were finally at the table huddled around a big bowl of pasta a la Ganino:

Though the conversation was lacking (apparently anyone who doesn't watch the OC, Desperate Houswives, or One Tree Hill has absolutely nothing in common with French 20 year olds), the food was excellent, complimented by the sounds Barney Wilen and a Blues compilation I had quietly slipped on before anyone could object.

I hope your culinary lives are as fulfilling as mine: there are few things I find more rewarding than cooking a good meal for close friends.

Best,
Ben

Written Post #1

2009-04-09T22:12:00.003+02:00

Hey all,

I thought I'd take advantage of my host family's scanner to swipe Simone's genius concept of handwritten posts. The pictures below are my first page of my Moleskine, and the other two pages is the introduction to a book I'm reading right now; I thought it was very well written and interesting to see it handwritten! I feel like my generation is quickly losing touch with the handwritten language with the digital revolution.

That is all!
Ben

wow

2009-04-05T12:16:00.002+02:00

Hey all,

Just wanted to share last night with everyone; I had spent the day doing little chores, working a little bit on a paper due tomorrow, and reading. At about 7pm, I got a text from a friend asking me if I wanted to go hear some jazz and get a drink. This of course, long after I had given up on my search for good live music in Bordeaux. I remember at the beginning of September missing nights at Caffe Trieste in Berkeley, where my mom and I would go listen to Michael or some other amazing musicians whip up some seriously good stuff. Cheeseboard Pizza's trio comes to mind.

Not knowing what to expect, but excited to go hear live music, we biked down to Saint Michel, which is casually referred to as the 'immigrant' quartier; most of the locals are originally from North/West Africa. This makes for great food, and the best open air markets on Sunday mornings. We found the bar, stepping inside to find some seats. There was a trio playing; guitarist, vocals, drums. Sitting down next to the drummer, I could feel his hands slapping what looked like an ordinary wooden box, but was actually a percussion instrument. The music was a selection of music from Brazil, Peru, Chile, Argentina, Mexico, and Cuba. The singer (her voice was smooth and thick, velvet molasses) was Chilean, the guitarist was Peruvian, and at some point the drummer vaguely alluded to being from Granada, a city in the south of Spain. Little did we know, the modest, soft-spoken guitarist was actually Kiri Escobar: not a name I recognized, but one that I quickly respected.

The guitar does something to me that I can't quite explain; there's a magic in its versatility to yell, to laugh, to weep. Last night made me consider coming back to the instrument that I abandoned, soon. Long story short, last night was great; my ears were spoiled by unexpected treats from familiar sounds of far away, reminding me why I had been aching for the sounds of Los Lobos earlier in the week. I have been enamored with the Spanish language since I was a kid, picking up French in 7th grade instead of Spanish because everyone else was taking Spanish. But I had learned quite a bit from my dad and Spanish-speaking friends, and had a great time taking a couple classes at the end of high school. The sounds of the language spoken, and especially sung, soothe my ears and loosen my tongue; I feel like I'm singing every time I speak it. Perhaps I'll come back to it, but for now I'm happy with things as they are.

Fortunately, my friend April smokes. It seems that smoking cigarettes and drinking coffee are the two best ways to meet French people; being pretty doesn't hurt much, either. Unfortunately (or fortunately), I practice none of the above. And it shows! It was a couple of guys that told us just how lucky we were to have stumbled upon this bar. They also filled us in on the tidbit that the same place has jam sessions every Monday night, and that this coming Monday, the Ethnic Heritage Ensemble, a trio from Chicago, would be paying Bordeaux a visit. Again, the name rang no bells, but the respect evident in the voices of my informers convinced me that this was something big. Sure enough, after doing about two seconds of research (thanks internet!) I found a wealth of reasons for going to see these guys tomorrow night. As if the fact that they play jazz and are from Chicago isn't enough.

So things are good. I was beginning to feel a bit disappointed (things didn't work out to stay in Bordeaux over the summer), and this is more than enough to bring my spirits back up. Last night was almost surreal; I'm a bit giddy just thinking about it.

Today is the host dad's birthday, so we'll be having a few guests over for dinner tonight: should be fun!

Besitos dulces y hasta pronto,
Benjamin

Life is short in its longest days

2009-04-03T10:54:00.003+02:00

Hey all,

Things are going well here in Bordeaux; the weather has become a bit warmer, and even sunny at times. The political climate, however, holds little promise on the horizon.

On Monday, the faculty and students voted (again) in favor of the continued barricading of campus. I've resigned myself to the thought that classes will not resume before May, if then; I've spoken with most of my professors (still waiting to hear back from one) and will turn in my final assignments in the weeks to come. The atmosphere is a bit depressing though; here is a culture where activism is valued, the tradition of the French Revolution is far from being history, and people are willing to stand up against a government that condones police brutality. But what is even clearer is the government's refusal to listen in this period of worldwide tumult; and though I do not ally myself with every aspect of the anti-reform movement, I recognize that change is needed and fear that it will be imposed.

It's April and I still don't know where I'll be come June! My underwater basket-weaving classes end mid-May, so I've got a good month to be indecisive before I (literally) pay the price for the situation in which I find myself. Of course, like all 'serious' matters these days, the heart of the problem is money; though I know it's less cost-effective to stay here in France, I also know that I want to be here. In the end, it will come down to the charioteer favoring the black horse or the white horse.

I'm currently reading Les Liaisons Dangereuses in between Corneille plays, which is a lot of fun. My aunt gave me a fountain pen as a graduation present, and I'm really starting to enjoy how beautiful calligraphy is; I recently ordered a Moleskine to log the excerpts of French texts I copy down. I have hideous handwriting, and I never thought I was capable of writing something so pretty! I had accepted that Chinese calligraphy is more beautiful, hands-down, but now, thanks to the fountain pen, I'm challenging that approach.

Until next time!
Benjamin

PS: The quote comes from John Mellencamp. I heard an interview with him on my Fresh Air podcast, which I highly recommend to you all. In it, he also said that everything he hears is his, regardless of who or where he heard it from.

Letter From France

2009-03-27T00:59:00.003+01:00

Hey all,

So I just got back from work; it's 1:00am my time, and I thought I'd record a little video! As it turns out, I work in a bar! I mostly washed dishes and loaded/unloaded the dishwasher at the bar, but I also set up little plates to be served, along with drinks! Mostly wine - their selection comprises about 40 reds and 20 whites! They even have a Californian wine! They did have a few cocktails, however; all named after Disney characters! Cute or what??? Tinkerbell, Prince Charming, Little Red Riding Hood, along with two others I forgot.

I also met a little boy named Baptiste for the first time; I'll be taking care of him twice a week, picking him up after school and spending some time teaching him English. I say 'teaching', but at the moment it's very spontaneous: I speak to him in English, most of which he understands, and from time to time try to get him to say things back to me.

Yay! It feels great to work again. Earlier today, someone suggested that the reason I'm so happy to work is that it really makes me feel included in French/Bordelais society. She totally put her finger on it; every year since I was sixteen I've worked on the side, compelling me to better manage my time, but also giving me great experiences.

Yesterday was my good friend Paul's birthday. We went to my friend Ippei's haunt, the Oxford Arms (where he was curiously AWOL) and played mahjong for a few hours, sipping on snakebites and sharing laughs. Things are good.

Best,
Ben

Letter From France

2009-03-25T22:11:00.002+01:00

Hey all,

I love my new headphones. Go get good headphones (if you don't have them already), and sit down with your favorite album, or one you know nothing about, and have a good listen. "What is this thing called love" by Charlie Parker is bouncing between ears at the moment, and I feel like I have a clear image of what the recording studio looked like... awesome.

Yesterday I finally put the mahjong set I bought in SF Chinatown to serious use! My friend Paul and I made some friends studying abroad in Bordeaux from all over China, and yesterday they were kind enough to welcome us into their dorm and teach us how to play Shannxi mahjong. It was awesome!

There was a meeting this morning for all the students in "Lettres", which, for lack of a more thorough understanding, is the French equivalent of the Literature department at Bordeaux 3. The lecture hall was packed with students and professors, both duly concerned about the strike/barricade that's been going on for months now: students in some classes have only had class once this whole semester (whereas by now they are supposed to have had 10, for each class, at least).

The professors proposed six weeks of catch-up ("rattrapage" in French ~ a great word) following the end of the movement. This so-called end, however, is nowhere in sight: Sarkozy is as stubborn as ever, even as his approval ratings plummet in and outside of the classroom. The intentionally unfixed date of conclusion for the movement posed a problem for students: would they be able to work their summer jobs? What would happen if the movement didn't end; would they get grades? How would professors recognize the extra time commitment made by students active in the movement?

All these questions were followed by equally unsatisfying answers. My conclusion: have each student get in touch with their professors via email, have each professor set their own requirements for grades. I spoke with my professors and figured out what I needed to do to get a grade for the semester, which set my mind at ease.

Returning 'home' after the meeting, I was pedaling through downtown and saw a guy with an A's hat. Ecstatic to meet another East-Baydestrian in the heart of southern France, I shouted a feeble "Go A's!" as I passed him, which was received with one of the blankest stares I've ever seen. Not an East-Baydestrian. He put out his hand and said "Ça va?" Maybe I should start another blog about American culture in Bordeaux, France... haahhaha

Politics are interesting; we live in tumultuous times. I implore you to read Evan Osnos' blog, "Letter From China"; not only is he quite a writer, it's interesting to get an American perspective from the other side of the world, especially in the midst of such a profound financial crisis.

Best,
Ben

Current Events

2009-03-23T01:16:00.004+01:00

Hey all,

Happy Persian New Year/Norouz to everyone. I gleam with pride to have voted for a modest, respectful President.

Soooo I've gotten pretty restless, not having class for nearly two months now. Sure, I've done a ton of reading on my own; not just what's assigned, but all kinds of things I read for fun. I've decided to start working: you already know I do tutoring (currently have two students), and that I'm teaching toddlers English, but Thursday night I'll also try my hand at waiting tables in the coolest bar/restaurant I've ever been in. I'm really looking forward to working in a restaurant again; though exhausting, it's definitely a tight-knit group of co-workers, and a lot of fun.

I just got a nice pair of headphones, which I haven't had in a while; for money and convenience purposes, I've been submitting to the earbud craze. But, knowing that one both protects one's hearing and gets better quality sound through real headphones, I invested in a pair that I can't get enough of. I'm hearing sounds I hadn't heard before in songs I knew well, getting some pretty tasty frequencies that keep me glued to iTunes for hours. These suckers are responsible for my newfound appreciation of The Beatles and Santana.

Earlier today, I saw two movies: first, Brendan and the Secret of Kells, and then later in the night, 24 City. They were both great films; Brendan was a lot of fun, and quite pretty. Not to mention I got a wave of factory-generated solidarity with the Irish part of my lost white identity. 24 City was completely different; along with the film about Harvey Milk, I find that the movies that I'm seeing are tugging my macho self closer and closer to shedding tears instead of satisfying myself with my habit of detached reflection on the sad world we live in. My interest in China plunges its roots ever deeper in my consciousness with every glance I get. Of course, you should all go see every one of these films, as soon as you're done reading my entry on my travels to Morocco and Spain. :)

This week should be interesting! I'll be sure to fill y'all in with work updates soon as I have something worthwhile to say.

Bisous,

Ben

I Deliver

2009-03-23T00:53:00.005+01:00

Hey all,

Wow where to start. Morocco was great, Madrid was great.

I think the best part about Morocco was just how different it was; people have asked me what I liked most and I can never put my finger on one thing I did that stood out from everything else. Stars, green grass, and red dirt come to mind: not the answer people are looking for when they ask about vacation.

We left Bordeaux pretty early on a Saturday morning, taking a train to Toulouse, a town just southeast of Bordeaux. We spent the day in the young, energetic city of red brick, visiting a really cool old church. We flew out that evening from Toulouse to Casablanca, a flight that took merely two hours!

Landing in Casablanca wasn't anything special; the airport, however, had a completely different feel. I remember being in the SF airport seeing all kinds of people, but the population being predominantly Western/European folks. Here, however, we were the minority, which is always a strange experience.

We also didn't have any solid ideas of how to get from the airport to the hostel, having faith in our French to get us by. It wasn't long until we realized that Arabic is truly the first language of Morocco, and that French and English are distant seconds.

My five friends and I climbed into a taxi that smelled strongly of curried meat and cheap gasoline; I sat on Stephen's lap in the front seat, awkwardly jostling about for what I hoped would allow him to keep circulation in his legs. We were the lucky ones, however, as the four others that piled in the back found that the door didn't exactly close. No, scratch that; it didn't close whatsoever. So Paul, the silent martyr, quietly held the door closed the 45-minute drive from the airport to the medina. I remind you it was pitch black by then, and drivers in Morocco are slightly insane; our taxi, going about 100mph on a highway, could have easily gotten into 5 accidents before getting into town. All this while I'm giving Steve the lapdance of his life in the front seat and Paul is holding on for dear life, quiet as ever (no seatbelts, by the way).

We arrive at the hostel without too much trouble, paying the cab driver approximately twice as much as we should have and crawling into our rooms, exhausted. We were hungry though, and thus started an adventure that would last pretty much the entire night. Asking for directions at the front desk, the fellow told us to head out the front door and go right, as we'd be sure to find a restaurant right around the corner. Four corners later, quickly getting lost among buildings of chalk dimly lit by a hanging bulb every 100m, as well as alleys inciting nightmarish thoughts and piles of trash heaped left and right, I head back to the hostel, discouraged, hungry, and a little freaked out. I say 'little' relative to what was to follow.

Asking the owner once again, and getting the same inept response, I decided we were better off heading out of the medina (old city) and taking our chances on the wild streets of Casablanca, where we had nearly ended what must have been an interesting life led by a man pushing a rickety wooden cart at midnight on the equivalent of a Richmond freeway.

As I was heading out of the Medina (a long driveway dips down to street-level), I was hit by the smell of urine and seawater: not a pleasant combination. I was just starting to walk down the badly lit, but cleaner and more modern street, when I heard the voices of my friends, accompanied by a stranger's, calling me back. I looked up and sighed at the sight of my friend Sherry being hit on by a skinny, greasy guy. He saw me approach and warned me, saying that things are dangerous outside of the medina; better to stay in if we wanted to get something to eat. He assured us that the medina was his, and insisted that we go to his place to prove his integrity, which none of us had challenged. We all watched, confused and a little worried as he scampered over to a nearby apartment, unlocking the door, opening it, and beckoning us in. Satisfied with his proof, he rejoined us, telling us to follow him to find some food. I walked up front with the fellow, named Said, down some of the shadiest streets I've ever seen; everyone out at this hour of night clung to the walls as if there were some invisible chain running from the gutters to their ankles. Scared, I found myself in a bad cartoon where shapeless red-eyed creatures are spotted lurking in the shadows, rejoicing in our naive unease. Said was not helping; talking to me of what it is to be a man and a leader, gushing phony philosophy that reeked of condescension.

As we passed sandwich stand after sandwich stand (not all that many were open at this hour), the streets got ever darker, ever narrower, as if they were closing in about us. Those on the side of the street grew ever older, and more ruthless-looking; these were people whose eyes had seen death first-hand, perhaps even induced it. I began to think about how to get back to the hostel; not only had I lost my way following Said down unnamed, directionless streets; I felt my instinct (paranoia?) creeping up on me, reminding me that if we got jumped, whoever did the mugging would be very rich and we could end up very dead. Legs quivering in anticipation of the unknown, I stopped and told Said that we were going back to the hostel. Chuckling, he told me we were only five minutes away from the restaurant; the same thing he had said 30 minutes ago when I asked him how far away this restaurant was. I confronted him with this, to which he replied "You don't trust me?" "No," I said, "why would I?" Imploring me to stop being scared and continue following him, he tried to turn around and keep walking, but I wasn't buying.

I started retracing our steps the best I could, Said quickly catching up to me, sniggering under his breath and trying to resume the most disgusting conversation I've ever had.

Eventually, we ate. Eventually, we returned to the hostel, appetities sated and insecurities put to rest as we settled into beds temporarily ours. We slept well. I woke up at about 9:30 to a beautiful day in a medina completely different from what we had known the night before; the sun had swept the cobweb-clinging lurkers from the walls, uncovering a fresh layer of pale white. A port appeared across the street from the medina, brimming with sailboats and merchant ships threatening to pave the way to Spain, and explaining the smell of saltwater and urine I had picked up on the night before.

No one else was awake, and I had no interest in going back to sleep, so I took my book and leapt up a floor or two, stepping outside the windows onto wrought-iron fenced balconies not made for sitting, where I passed the next hour enjoying the sea air, blue sky, and timeless poetry.

Once everyone had woken up and Jasmine had escaped from her bathroom, we began to wander around the medina, which was suddenly thriving with merchants and tourists. We spent the day buying scarves and listening to Cynthia get marriage proposals from every man we bumped into. Weaving through crowds was actually a lot of fun; my feet did the thinking for me, I simply kept my head up for posture as I squeezed in between two people that were right next to each other not ten seconds ago, dodging heaps of garbage and wooden carts by fractions of an inch without any hesitation.

Looking back to Sherry, I felt compelled to vocalize what had been going through my head for the past twelve hours: we're not in Kansas anymore.

Our next stop was Essouira, a city to the west of Casablanca, also on the coast. We hopped on a bus heading that way; leaving at 7pm, we ended up getting to Essouira at about 2am the next morning. It was a long and interesting bus ride; before leaving, people walked up and down the aisles selling candy and snacks, some more aggressive than others. On the long bus ride, we occupied our time doing various things: listening to music on our iPods, snacking on provisions we had bought before leaving Casablanca, sleeping, and chatting.

From the windows of the shaky bus, I could make out a beautiful starry sky on a pitch-black night. The bus made many random stops, picking up a few people every two hours or so. These stops were always anxiety-inducing for me, and I felt like I had to remain vigilant, not knowing who was coming on to the bus.

We spent a lot of our time in Essouira with a couple of locals, Khalifa the poet and Youssef the sleaze. They introduced themselves as drum players, hitting on Sherry and offering us to come into their shop for tea. What I took as an intimate invitation was actually just business; it was Youssef, the businessman that proposed a trip into the Sahara for the first time. Later that night we went to their apartment and made chicken tajine (a typical Moroccan dish; basically a stew with everything good cooked for forever) and talked a lot of business, negotiating the kind of trip we would take into the desert, and what we were willing to pay.

Though all this was great fun, and we ended up doing some great bargaining, things turned sour when we arrived to Marrakech on the Tuesday night, February 24th and saw that our sumptuous hostel offered a far more interesting, legitimate trip to the Sahara at a much more reasonable price.

Negotiating ended up being a lot of fun; we learned how to get competitive prices for simple things we bought in the market, whether it was dates, scarves, or camel-leather purses. We even got to see a chicken killed before our very eyes, only to be dumped into a bucket to be bled so we could eat it later that night in our tajine (it was delicious). I also hand-picked (literally) some delicious, fresh fish and the best squid I've ever had, and got to watch it skinned and cleaned: something I had never seen done and wanted to know how to do. Life seemed to take a timeless tone in Morocco; away from 'organic' and 'green' commerce, we were eating and consuming in ways very typical to what I would imagine people have done for centuries.

Naturally, being the lead negotiator for the Sahara trip (Steve actually being the more effective businessman), I was the one who had to make the call, canceling on the people we had slipped into considering friends. Long story short, the call got quite ugly and vulgar on one end of the line, but I remained curt and grateful and ended it on the best note I could. This didn't keep me from being apprehensive: after all, the people that spent the past two days with us, driving us from Essouira to Marrakech, were staying in the same city and could definitely find our hostel if they tried.

Apaprently Jimi Hendrix stayed in Essouira for two years; on a camel ride our first afternoon there, we got to see his place, which was surprisingly large, yet flat. It is so far removed from everything it made me wonder how he was able to tune his electric guitar so far removed from society and so close to the beach. On our last afternoon in the city, I made some remark about Britney Spears, an artist unknown to the locals we were hanging out with. The fact that the names of Cat Stevens and Jimi Hendrix are better known than that of Britney Spears gave me hope in the human race.

The night of February 25th was spent in the Sahara Desert, under the stars. I had been really looking forward to this trip and seeing the stars the days preceding it, but on the way to the camp, on the back of my camel, my stomach started feeling really uncomfortable, which was to become a full-fledged stomach flu as the night went on. Though it certainly was beautiful under the stars, my memories of the experience are slighted by the suffering induced by whatever it is that I ate/drank the days before. Though I was sorely disappointed (and pretty miserable!), I made a serious effort to make the best of the situation and soak up as much of the desert as I could. To this day, the daylong trek into the desert still holds fonder memories than the doubtlessly beautiful night spent under the stars.

The landscape that we passed by in the van was surreal; we went from Marrakech, a huge, modern city, into the Atlas mountains where patches of snow capped the green and brown mountains at the foot of which pink almond trees grew amongst mud huts that seemed like they could have risen from the ground of their own accord. The strangest part about these beautiful, simple structures were the satellite dishes that sat on top of them. Our tour guide, from the mountains himself, pointed out one of the villages where he said the women did all the work cultivating what they needed to survive (with little to no extra) while the men stayed at home, watching TV. This hit me as the most familiar thing in this alien land.

After the Atlas mountains, things got very flat and very red; I felt like I could have been in an Western, with the Arizona mesas dotting the horizon. Never have I seen such red dirt; I had imagined it, never thinking I'd see it with my own eyes. This deep, primeval red contrasted fiercely with the long spreads of lush green grass, as if the Garden of Eden was crumbled into a few dozen mouthfuls and scattered across the Moroccan landscape at random. The green, like the red, was of a constant, full, vivid brilliance I had previously known only in dreams; appearing and disappearing, I convinced myself I was hallucinating, like a thirsty traveller falling victim to the cruellest of mirages in the savagest of terrain. To contribute to the surreal, unbelieveable aspect of this eyeful, the green had an abundance of palm/date trees: wild, Robinson Crusoe, Malibu Rum palm trees.

These were not the carefully landscaped palm trees that spread cramped roots in a tiny delegation of LA strip: no, these were real, furry, beastly palm trees. As if all this wasn't enough to take in at once, the arid landscape would be cleaved here and there by wide, clear rivers leaving the most exquisite paradise in their wake. We even passed a forest of palm trees. An enormous clawed footprint would not have felt out of place in this arid, prehistoric landscape.

At one point in the ride, our guide pointed out date trees; news to naive Californians who thought dates grew in styrofoam packages and cultivated shrink-wrapped in the aisles of Ranch 99. Naturally, we stopped to see a tree that had a few dates left hanging from its leafy branches (the season was over and the good ones had already been cultivated). Acting on my timid fantasies, Stephen scampered up the tree without warning and spent a good half an hour cracking up the tour guides, amazing the Californians, and thoroughly surprising the locals as he scanned the tree, shaking dates down on his minions and earning the title of Monkey King. As we left, we realized the locals had gathered on the other side of the street to watch a crazy Californian in sunglasses and Converse All-Stars do what very few likely dared to do. The leader of the village invited us in for tea, which our tour guide was quick to refuse, saying we had to hurry if we were going to make it to the desert before sundown. This cast a pallor over Stephen and myself, both tempted to leap out the van and join these people, sitting down and connecting with Morocco in what felt like a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. Like all good stories, this one has a sad ending: we continued our trek through prehistoric paradise with the stubbornness of tourists who wanted to get what they had paid for.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Madrid was cool; it was so different to be back in Europe after spending a week in Morocco! The air smelled different, the buildings were much taller, the roads were paved, and people were speaking Spanish instead of Arabic or Berber. We had returned to the West after a week-long stay in a world a part. Hearing Spanish was a big deal for me; I hadn't really heard it spoken since high school, some four years ago, and I had forgotten how much I loved hearing and speaking the language. It certainly has a way of relaxing me that French never really did. Exhausted and smelly, I was basking in the Spanish language, my happiness betrayed by a grin that spread across my face before I could hide it, and like a flow of water couldn't be stopped once it had started.We got to the hostel at about 5pm on Friday, February 27th. We checked into the hostel (I had booked us a 14-bed room, the cheapest they had available. About 10 euros more expensive per night than our hostels in Morocco) and then gave my friend Vic a call to go get some dinner. I hadn't eaten for a little over two days by now in an effort to work the stomach something out of my system, and I was looking forward to tasting again. We went to a greasy restaurant not far from where we were staying, just off Gran Via, Madrid's equivalent of Market Street in San Francisco.

Later that night we went wandering around the area a bit, where we stumbled upon a statue of Don Quixote and Sancho Panza, which was really cool. I gave in to the shameless tourist in myself and took a picture with the statue.

The next day we slept in a bit and went out for a free tour, offered by New Europe, a new company that sponsors free tours of major cities in Europe, as well as paid pub crawls and other touristy stuff. Apparently, things are a bit controversial, as the free tours they give are inevitably one less paid tour led by professional tour guides. So, after a brief setback with the police and angry unemployed tour guides, we set off on what was to be a relatively informative, though a bit vulgar and unsatisfying tour of Madrid. I peeled off from the group early to do some laundry, and ended up playing a few rounds of dominoes on the laundromat floor with my buddy Vic while all the blue from my brand new Moroccan scarf generously made its way into every white piece of clothing I had packed with me on the trip. So, with fresh, baby-blue clothes, I returned to the hostel, where plans were being made for the night.

On the flight from Casablanca to Madrid, I had been surprised by the desire to do some research on the city; where we could eat, what's fun to do at night, so on and so forth. I had found a good Flamenco club, which we then went to see on Saturday night. It was really interesting; I'd like to go again, on the condition that I get a seat in advance.

Sunday I had decided I wanted to see the museums, so we set off for the Reina Sofia and then went to the Prado. Though the Prado certainly had some cool stuff on the first floor, such as the "Gods and Men" exhibit featuring ancient Greek sculpture, it didn't make much of an impression on me after having seen the Paul Thek exhibit at the Reina Sofia, which pretty much satisfied me for the next week or so.

Overall, Madrid was a really nice city, to which I'd like to return: clean, has a wealth of history and culture, along with some very interesting architecture (the Moors controlled Spain for 800 years) and decent food (though a bit heavy in ham).

I suppose that wraps up my trip to Africa (not a country!) and Spain... I could certainly embellish here and there, the extent to which will be entirely determined by the questions asked by you in the 'comments' section of this post. All apologies for the delay!

Ben

Yay Kids!

2009-03-16T18:41:00.006+01:00

Hey all,

So last week I went to a job interview for a company started last September that teaches infants and toddlers English! I was skeptical at first, but after speaking with the impressively sane couple of people that work there, I was convinced that teaching children a language at a very young age is genius.

Today, I sat in on a 45-minute class for 5-7 year olds; these are kids that have been at school from 8:00am until 5:00pm and they come to this 'workshop' to pick up another language. Naturally, they were a bit pooped; but things picked up with the energy of the teacher, and soon they were hopping around, singing songs, and smiling modest French smiles.

It was a lot of fun: I teach chess at a summer camp, and I tend to put a lot of pressure on myself and the kids, stressing myself and the kids out, and we're all exhausted by the time we're done. This hands-on, fun approach to teaching kids was refreshing and productive; the kids not only seemed to have a better time, they picked things up really quickly and seemed to have retained a lot from previous lessons.

Made me happy to see these adorable little French boys and girls - it's always interesting to see cultural differences at such a young age. And of course, even though I was doing my part as a passive observer ('fly on the wall'), I was totally the epicenter of distraction, an exotic American with a funny smile and furry hands, the kids staring at me with big curious eyes as their fully capable (and patient!) teacher did her best to keep their eyes on the prize.

At the end of the 45 minutes, the parents came to pick their kids up. I was introduced, and the parents proceeded to speak to me in French. I looked to the teacher for direction, not knowing if I should show the kids that I can speak French! My friend, Victor, has had problems getting his kids in Madrid to speak English with him now that he's blown his (beautifully fluent) Spanish-speaking cover. The teacher assured me that it was fine, and following a bit of coaxing, I responded to the parent's questions, garnering even more attention from the bewildered little kids. Pretty cute.

On my bike ride home (I live in a beautiful area, and the language school is merely a 10-minute bike ride away), I got to see the Basilique Saint-Seurin at dusk, just before sunset. I stopped my pedaling on the timeworn cobbled street to gaze at an impressive cherry tree placed in the courtyard of an equally beautiful chapel. The orange-golden sun brushed softly past the old sand-colored stones of the chapel, bringing out the deep lagoon positioned in the middle: a circular window that could have easily been from the 18th century. This provincial image was made unique by the pale beauty of the fully blossomed cherry tree, bursting with the most delicate purity of color one could imagine, scattering its elegance across the ground until the streets were dotted with precious pink petals, the once profane gutters purified by a thin stream of flowers.

Though I'm not feeling great (have a bit of a sore throat), this evening certainly lightened my spirits, which weren't all that heavy in the first place.

For those of you (all of you?) waiting on my Morocco post, rest assured that I have it started. My own thorough, perfectionist nature works against me at times, however, and the post may take time.

All the best,
Ben

Rise Up?

2009-03-11T22:15:00.004+01:00

Hey all,

So the University of Bordeaux III officially voted in favor of blockading all buildings last week. This means neither I nor my professors literally cannot get into the buildings where we normally have class because the students and professors have set up barricades at entrances, stopping people from entering.

I couldn't cut through a building today to go eat lunch because of the blockade! Tomorrow at 12:30pm there will be a General Assembly to vote on what could become a second consecutive week of official barricading of the buildings. All this, in addition to marching in the streets once or twice a week, to protest an educational reform being imposed by Valerie Pécresse and Nicolas Sarkozy.

Pretty extreme, right? Apparently... not. According to most of the people I've spoken to, this kind of striking/blockading is pretty normal and happens every other year or so. In which case, is this a good or bad thing? I spoke with my 17-year old host brother, who thinks it's a good thing; poeple's voices need to be heard. I agreed with him: good thing French students and professors can together draw boundaries of what they are and aren't willing to accept.

But I wasn't happy with the fact that striking is overdone: bad thing that it has gotten to the point that peers (and the government) have grown weary of easily-agitated political action, resulting in being ignored which results in turn in more drastic measures taken to get attention. Sure enough, listening to the news on the radio this evening, my host brother talked about the picky students "qui lui ont fait chié" because they call for reform, but reject it outright when it doesn't meet their terms, with no room made for discussion.

As far as classes are concerned, the professors have every intention to hold make-up classes during the summer; I've heard people suggest that, thanks to the two months of striking preceding the blockade, the 'rattrapages' might go all the way into July. Timothée, my host brother, seriously doubts that will happen (his mom is a professor). All I know is that I've got a front-row seat for this show, and it's not ending anytime soon.

The whole thing is beginning to leave a sour taste in my mouth, considering I am paying UC tuition (approximately 20x what French students pay) for public university courses I can't go to.

In any case, I'm doing quite a bit of reading on my own; this weekend, I got ahead of my assigned reading and started some outside reading, as well as finishing A History of Chinese Literature, which I started before heading off to Morocco. I have some written work that's eventually going to be due, so I'll have to force myself to put the books down and pick up a pen in the next couple of days.

Reading Giles' A History of Chinese Literature, published in 1900, the word 'Chinaman' kept popping up, which really bothered me. I knew the term was outdated, and figured he was simply a victim of his time, but it kept nagging at me. After giving it some thought, I decided that the term was probably developed as a very literal translation of "中國人", which means "China person". Maybe that poor translation can now be put to rest.

I can't wait to start reading in Chinese... After reading about the three milennia of classics waiting for me, my heart beats with presumptuous anticipation... I've been very diligent with the characters I already know, practicing five a day, like I did last year. I've joked with my Chinese friends, asking them to 'lend' me their ability to read; they respond in the affirmative, entreating me to promise to give it back as soon as I'm done.

Haven't even started a post about Morocco/Madrid yet. Good things are worth waiting for, is all I can say... hahah.

Best,
Ben

Video

2009-03-03T00:30:00.004+01:00

Hey all! Just thought I'd post a short video of me showing off one of my souvenirs from Morocco. I just got back about 3 hours ago, so be gentle hahaha.

Will follow up with a more in-depth update of my travels, hopefully by next week!

Ben

Stunna Shades at Night

2009-02-19T22:37:00.004+01:00

Earlier tonight, on my way home from meeting my friend Paul at a cafe, I was riding my bike through Cours de l'Intendance, a wide street where tourists and the haut bourgeoisie do their shopping. I whizzed by a trendy young couple (maybe 17?), and the guy was slyly putting on some neon-green sunglasses.

I hesitated for about an instant, then turned my bike around and zipped back to catch up with them. I felt obliged to fill in this unknowing young French man that he was very much in line with the Bay Area uniform, which mandates sunglasses at night, without exception. He was happy to hear it, and told me that California sounds like paradise to the French. I relayed to him that the same fantasies that light up the eyes of the French when they hear about San Francisco spark similar flames in the hearts of many a Californian. Made for a fun, short, spontaneous conversation.

I think I'm forming a habit of short, wonderful interactions with people I never plan on seeing again; in Paris, I had some very deep conversations with complete strangers, and left without exchanging contact info, or sometimes even names. I find an exquisite beauty in leaving the present right where it is without bringing the future into the equation. Emails we never send, phone numbers we never dial, names we never remember: what good does it do anyone? The present is all we've got, and that's just fine with me.

Ben

Politics

2009-02-17T23:18:00.004+01:00

Ugh sorry - just wanted to pose a question to people stateside: what's the buzz on Obama's economic stimulus? What are your friends/family saying about it? I can read the news here, but can't talk to neighbors to see how people feel. Seeing the fierce Republican opposition the stimulus plan met in Congress, I feared talk of secession! Why is the US so divided on this initiative after the election that was supposed to unite the rift between the two political parties?

By the way: if my indulgent, brief posts about n'importe de quoi bother you, let me know!

New New

2009-02-17T21:36:00.003+01:00

Hey all,

Today I did an in-class presentation (an "explication de texte") on a sonnet. I had worked on it all weekend, trying to probe the tenses and syntax for a deeper meaning, but only ended up with the feeling that I was merely scratching the surface. I didn't end up finding any larger uniting theme to the sonnet, and thus didn't work together a clean-cut outline - this made it hard to speak confidently and deliberately in conveying my thoughts, and I ultimately delivered a mediocre presentation.

The teacher applauded my effort and congratulated me for having done a presentation in a second language. In front of the class. And though it felt good to receive that praise, as well as that of a few charitable classmates, I felt more embarrassed than proud. I felt a bit like I was being patronized, a vocabulary word I have yet to learn in French.

I think I'm just a bit rattled - as a foreign student here in Bordeaux, expectations are exceedingly low considering I have been studying French for ten (10) years now. (The professor asked me how long I had been studying the language, and I replied "too long") As a student in general, my expectations for myself tend to be exceedingly high.

I suppose the best way for me to gauge my performance is to keep things introspective. Did I work hard to prepare my work? How did I feel as I was giving the presentation? How do I feel having done it?

Ultimately, this whole thing boils down to the problem of me knowing myself; something that I have definitely been struggling with for a long time, and which has played an enormous role in my trip so far.

Am currently indulging in English reading - I'm tearing through it! I feel so naughty, but it's really great fun to have stumbled upon this book in the campus library.

On Friday I leave for Morocco, where I will be spending five days of vacation with some friends. On the way back, I'll be spending three days in Madrid, hopefully visiting my friend Victor! Now that I have this presentation out of the way I can look forward to my first trip to the African continent! Of course, I'll have to dive into deeper Africa if I truly want to do it justice, but at the moment, Morocco is looking pretty darn epic.

Bisous,
Ben

Sellout

2009-02-15T00:34:00.006+01:00

Hey all,

This is a complete sell-out of a post. I'm not going to offer any interesting insight on the (spectacular) play interpretation of Michel de Montaigne's essays, which I saw last night, or the latest issue of culture shock delivered direct via personal experience expressway.

No, I'm just going to selfishly post two items that recently popped up in my wish list for the next major holiday/birthday. The first is something I have had my eye on for a while, considering the practicality of such a device, but also the interesting cultural repercussions of a digital society.

Kindle 2

The second is a book that I just heard reviewed on NPR's Fresh Air Podcast.

Brothers, by Yu Hua

Call me what you will, but I indulged in this impulse fully aware of the selfish consumerism propagated by such a post.

Oh, and Happy Valentine's Day. ♥ .

Best,
Ben

Persimmon

2009-02-05T18:28:00.000+01:00

On Monday, the first thing I did (before dropping off luggage) was stop in the first Epicerie (itty bitty convenience store) and asked about where I could find persimmons. Being out of season, the owner had none. But he offered to order them. Today, I picked up my persimmons and boy did they taste good.
Especially after listening to a lecture on La Princesse de Cleves, a 17th century French novel of which I have heard much about. This lecture took place in the middle of downtown, Place de la Victoire. It was the culmination of an anti-reformist protest and a means by which the professors intended to show solidarity with the students against the reform and Nicolas Sarkozy's dismissal of the classic as unnecessary to modern education.

Paris

2009-02-03T22:03:00.000+01:00

Hey all,

It is Monday afternoon here in Bordeaux, and I thought I'd start writing about my trip to Paris this last weekend, before the memories slip out of my head and onto the hard wood floor of my bedroom, mixing with the other stories the crazy experience my trip abroad has been thus far.

I left Friday morning from Bordeaux to head to Paris, where I would be staying with Florent, a friend of the family who studied at UC Berkeley last summer. After missing my 8:30 train (I tend to take my time in the morning...), I took the next train at 10:30, making it to Paris at about 2pm. Florent was kind enough to take the afternoon off work to hang out with me; he picked me up at his metro stop and we walked to his (new) apartment.

After a tour of his apartment, which was massive by French standards, he took me to a local greasy spoon to get some lunch. There, we caught up on the past nine months. After, we decided to go see the Frank exhibit at the Jeu de Paume, which was amazing. Seeing this exhibit was certainly one of the high points of this trip. Frank, a Swiss photographer, shot American life in the early to mid 50's - a time in which black and white held an uncommon weight. His photographs are what I would call masterpieces, challenging the human spirit with a wide range of emotions expressed by the artist, his subject, and evoked in the viewer.

For dinner, we got pasta from his mother's Trattoria; an Italian family with exposed and valued roots, Florent's family is as French to me as they are Italian. Truth be told, the pasta was amazing; mom, your stuff is great, but this was wonderful. The next time I'm in Paris, I will definitely have at least one meal at that Trattoria - never before have I tasted such yummy pasta.

Saturday afternoon, after getting a late start, I made my way to Père Lachaise, quite possibly the most famous cemetery in the world. Unfortunately, it was far colder than I imagined, and the cemetery being as large as it is, I was only able to find a few important graves in the two hours that I spent there. Proust was especially hard to find - a modest black grave seated behind some gaudy horror, I must have passed it three or four times trying to find it. No, I didn't kiss Oscar Wilde's grave, and petting the black cat inhabited by Jim Morrison will have to wait for another day.

In looking for Monsieur Proust, I stumbled upon two fellow francophiles - a New Yorker ex-pat who moved to Paris with his French wife six years ago. They were kind enough to tolerate my company, and after finding Proust together, we decided to search out Molière and La Fontaine before calling it a day. In parting ways, I introduced myself as ‘Benjamin’, a name that I have learned is very common in France, and one that I have more frequently embraced as I grow accustomed to its beautiful French pronunciation. The fellow explained the origin of the name as “right hand of the sun”, and I was utterly swept away in the imagery thus invoked. I’m not sure whether that’s what my name really means or not, but I don’t much care, either. My vanity is appeased.

Leaving the cemetery at around 4pm, I had a decent amount of time to kill before meeting my friend Julie for her 25th birthday south of Paris. So, in an effort to regain the feeling lost in my chilled extremities, I hurried myself into the cafe across the street from Père Lachaise, le Rond Point. There, sitting down with the book I'm currently reading, I ordered an overpriced pot of tea and prepared myself for defrost before heading out to my next adventure. As soon as I had started sipping my tea, however, one of the two men sitting in front of me asked me how I liked the book I was reading and invited me over. Preparing myself to either be robbed or somehow abused, I cautiously eased my way over, setting my backpack between my feet. As it turns out, the fellow was Lebanese and his friend sitting to my left was Parisian. The Lebanese fellow was a poet, and launched immediately into broad philosophical theory while the Parisian simply sat and smiled. He tended to stare at me, which was a bit unsettling, but I got used to it as I accepted how bizarre and random the situation was. Apparently, the Lebanese fellow, extrovert and uninhibited, had sparked up conversation with the Parisian fellow in Père Lachaise and asked him to join him for a beer in the cafe. After a somewhat awkward, but surprisingly personal discussion, I paid my tab and left, on to the Picasso museum.

On the way there, I stumbled upon the very same couple I had followed around the cemetery. They suggested I go to Grand Palais to see the ‘Picasso et les maîtres’ exhibit, supposedly the best of the year, and which was ending on Monday (today). I took the advice and made my way to the Champs-Elysees, where an enormous line of people had gathered outside the Grand Palais, a beautiful building situated right across the street from the Petit Palais, another gorgeous (yet more extravagant) work of architecture. By this time, it was 5:30 on Saturday evening, and the already cold city of Paris was quickly becoming freezing. I jumped in line, hoping that it would move fast enough for me to make it to my friend's place south of Paris by 7:30, but after asking a fellow amateur des beaux-arts, I learned the wait was expected to last a full hour and fifteen minutes. Discouraged, but refusing to accept defeat, I decided to stroll across the street through the gleaming golden gates of the Petit Palais, where I was stopped by an elderly man, who notified me of its closure.

Mince! What to do? Freezing cold in the most touristy section of the tourist-packed city, I racked my mind for warm places in which I could kill an hour without losing limbs to frostbite. Acting quickly, I set my eyes on the Louvre, which was right next door, in my mind’s eye. Crossing the Tuileries Garden against the wind, I walked past l'Orangerie (also closed) and countless beautiful stone statues, hardly appreciated by this shivering Californian. Of course, once I finally made it to the Musée du Louvre (4 metro stops away from the Grand Palais), it too was closed. Fortunately, I was still free to enter the enormous glass pyramid, where I could defrost for a bit before leaving for Julie's.

Wandering around the Louvre, my numbed senses unwittingly submitted to a tourist impulse to visit the gift shop. There, I purchased post cards of famous works of art that are now on my wall behind my computer; though perhaps a bit tacky, it is really nice to look up and see these greatly reduced paintings.

That night I had a pretty good time going out with Julie and her friends to celebrate her birthday - it is always nice to see her, and meeting new people can be really interesting. I was surprised (and a bit flattered) when I introduced myself to people, and they immediately reacted with "oh! the Ben from California, right?" After the first few times, I stopped giving people a hard time for stalking me and accepted that word of my exploits has traveled to all four corners of the world, and that I will soon be invited to dine with the classiest of company in the most exotic of places. Am particularly looking forward to people recognizing me when I find myself in China. That should be good.

Sunday I decided to go back out and get a heavy dose of culture at the ‘Picasso et les maîtres’ exhibition, preparing myself for a bit of a wait. Little did I know I would end up spending my afternoon waiting in line in -2 degree Paris! After three long hours of waiting outdoors and attempted bribes (some museum employee brought out a cart of mandarin oranges to appease the crowd, which was quickly turning into a cold, angry mob), I finally entered the museum, only to realize how painful it was to regain feeling in numbed feet after standing for three hours on end.

The show itself was enormous, with plenty of work from Picasso and quite a few works from influential painters of which I had heard and read much about. Though I am not Picasso's biggest fan, I found some of his lesser known works really spoke to me; one painting from his 'black period' and his more monotone sketches. I also really enjoyed being able to closely examine the more famous of paintings, a wide range of still lifes and portraits. By the time 7:30 rolled around, I was definitely ready to move on.

Florent, the friend with whom I had been staying, had invited me for dinner with his family, which was wonderful; being in his home reminded me of my own mom's taste, in which I took quite a bit of comfort. It was nice to sit and eat with their family: conversation was warm and spirits were high on that cold Sunday night.

When I left Monday morning at about 6:45am, about two inches of fine, soft snow had accumulated underfoot, and tiny, delicate snowflakes could be seen falling gently overhead, coming from a seemingly infinite height with a preciousness I had never known before. I felt like Paris was seeing me off, paving the city with this fine layer of down after a trip packed with interesting people and great stories. I was enchanted and moved to see such purity, such uniform beauty spread across this old city so rich in grit and history.

I returned to Bordeaux with lighter feet, happy to be who I was, where I was. And now is where I leave you, until the next now which unexpectedly sneaks up and embraces me with some moment that simply must be recorded.

Ben

'Manifestation'

2009-01-28T22:58:00.000+01:00

Is the French word for 'protest'. Tomorrow morning, starting at 10h30, there will be a nationwide protest against an educational reform being imposed by the Sarkozy administration. As a student from UCSC, never before have I seen so much unity and honest communication between professors and students in regards to current events; courses were 'banalized' this past week, meaning many courses were canceled to open rooms up for informational gatherings in which professors answered student questions about what the reform meant for them.

I went to a section on Tuesday only to stumble upon one such meeting, and I sat down and listened to the kinds of things being discussed. What I took away from the meeting is that neither professors or students stand to benefit from this reform, which is enough to incite my standing against it. When a government takes action against the best interest of the educated masses, it is the people's obligation to unite and take a stand.

Unfortunately (or perhaps fortunately), I am this country's guest, not citizen. I have no right to stand up against what I think is wrong with the governing of the country, though I am certainly entitled to an opinion. I intend to attend the protest tomorrow with the perspective of an outsider: neither entitled to participate nor free from the threat of repercussions, I will play the role of he who watches from afar. Though I feel rather cowardly admitting this decision, I have no doubt in my mind that this is not the time for me to act. The time for action will ripen, and when the fruit is ripe for the picking that I will be prompt in plucking.

We'll be in touch.

Benjamin

新年快樂!

2009-01-26T20:57:00.000+01:00

new new

2009-01-23T17:21:00.000+01:00

Hey all,

Just had a few things I thought I'd get off my chest/fill you in on.

Last week was the first week of classes here in Bordeaux, and I thought I'd share some academic updates with you! I'm reading some really great stuff this semester, and looking forward to dig into my work - I see these texts as the last few (required) contextual readings before I can say I have a decent grip on the many centuries of French literature, which will (presumably) let me get as narrow as I like in the 17th century without feeling too guilty about not doing the other ten centuries justice. I'm reading Proust, Rimbaud, Mallarmé, Ronsard, de LaClos, with more to follow... haven't been assigned readings for two of my literature classes yet. Should keep me busy, but happy!

I'm polishing up my CV today so I can run around Monday morning to apply for jobs teaching English part-time here in Bordeaux! Though tutoring brings home a tiny bit of pocket money, it's not cutting it, and I would love to build my resume a bit - nothing like multi-national references for a confidence booster! My host family's eldest daughter has been very generous with her time in helping me get the CV up to French standards, for which I am very grateful. She gave me a Petit Nicolas book for Christmas, which was sweet! I haven't read any of these children's stories since French 4, junior year of high school, so it will be nice to revisit some of that lighthearted youth lit.

I've been relatively diligent with my Chinese characters, though they certainly take a back seat here in France. Upon finishing The Gate of Heavenly Peace, I found myself a little impatient to reach a level of comprehension of Chinese that would allow me to read more sophisticated literature - among the authors discussed in the text were Lao She, Lu Xun, Xu Zhimo, Wen Yiduo, and Ding Ling, all of which were exceptionally gifted with words, yet met with tragedy in the upheaval of the Revolution. Will simply have to be patient with that one and enjoy where I am and what I'm doing now, which isn't too hard to do! hahaha.

Chinese New Year is coming up this Sunday, and I've been trying to make plans with my friends over here in Bordeaux to celebrate! Still not entirely sure on what we're going to do, but am hoping to get some games of mahjong in, maybe watch some quality Chinese cinema, and hopefully get some decent Chinese food... the restaurants here have been a little sub-par in comparison with what I was used to in the Bay Area, so all I'm really hoping for are some good dumplings! I also got some amazing tea (Pu-er from '98 and Blue People Oolong from a cool tea store in SF), which I'm looking forward to sharing with my friends. I highly reccommend that store to anyone looking for good tea and friendly, generous service! I spent an hour there tasting various teas without noticing hahah.

I had a great time watching the Inauguration on Tuesday night ("investiture" in French - "inauguration" is a term in French, but used only for inaugurating buildings). My professor had no problem with me leaving class a little bit early - I was dressed (tastefully) in red white and blue and was proudly sporting my gaudy Obama pin. More and more I'm realizing just how little difference there is between literature and politics... to a greater or lesser extent, we are all subject to the conditions of our time, and great literature is no exception to that rule. Watching Obama's speech filled me with a great sense of pride; though not overwhelming, I was profoundly impressed with his way with words and seemingly penetrating mindfulness; he handles the complicated issues of current American society with astounding ease and simplicity. One can only imagine how much time he takes writing these speeches... not to mention he's the one writing them! I feel very comfortable knowing he is in office, but also that Bush is out. They are both quite reassuring to a proud Californian/awake American in France. I am celebrating Chinese New Year not only because of my interest in Chinese culture, but in a way I feel like this Sunday, a New Year, a new era will truly begin: new classes consciousness and friends in a new country, pledging allegiance to a new president in the hopes for a renewed pride in my old New World.

Peace and best wishes to you all! 新年快樂!

Benjamin/毛頭髪

Quickie

2009-01-19T21:36:00.000+01:00

Hey all,

Just wanted to let you know (12 days since my last post) that I made it back to France just fine and am settling in quite well. I came in late Tuesday night much to the surprise of my host family, who thought I was coming back on the 20th! Serves them right for not reading the sheet I gave them with my itinerary! hahaha!

Classes started today, but there's not much to say about that; the stress of negotiating schedules and meeting requirements can't be new to you.

I went to Saint Emilion on Saturday afternoon with the brand new set of UC students. It was a sunny, relatively warm day, and everyone was in good spirits. Nothing gets positive energy like fresh faces on a sunny day. This town is absolutely gorgeous - I will without a doubt return, either before or after the coming of Spring. I love old buildings and this town is it.

Leaving from Paris on the 20th of December, I lost my Carte de Sejour, France's equivalent of a 'green card', which extends my visa to a full-year stay in France. Besides being infuriated with the staff (who may have in fact stolen it, considering the time between my losing it and noticing that it was lost), I was very worried about being able to come back into the country safely. Fortunately, all went well on re-entry and I only suffered a mild 4-hour slog through child-infested bureaucracy swamp in the process of obtaining approval for a new copy. Kafka came to mind as I looked at the immigrants who didn't seem to like waiting any more than I did, and I'm sure had much better things to do with their time. It did hurt quite a bit to see so many children; I can only imagine it is out of necessity that these mothers drag their toddlers to this linoleum hell, and not out of some kind of masochistic pleasure they get from calming tantrums before throngs of strangers.

It made me feel very grateful to be in the (privileged, white, middle-class, french/english-speaking, childless) position I currently find myself in.

I made dinner for the family tonight; I had volunteered this last weekend to make pasta rigatoni with sauteed onion, zucchini and bell pepper. I usually toss a couple sausages in there, but was unable to find anything suitable and opted instead for the vegetarian approach; no harm there! It went over very well, and I was happy to see the host mom so effusively praise my cooking. Little does she know I simply stole a recipe from mama Ganino. Thanks, mama!!!

I have been religiously practicing 5 Chinese characters a day since I got back, which I'm hoping will (if maintained) keep my level of written Chinese where it is for a little bit longer. I'm also trying to make plans with the (increasing number) of Chinese friends I have here for the New Year, which is coming up on the 26th! Hoping to put that mahjong (麻將, pronounced ma-jian) set I got to use... I've been trying to get people to play dominoes with me (I brought my set from the US), but according to just about everyone, it's an old man's game. Little do they know how gangsta it is... hahaha.

We have a president to inaugurate tomorrow! Here's to hoping all goes well and that I'm able to slip out of the first day of my lit section an hour and a half early so I can go watch the ceremony! Not to mention the birthday of my little sister Oriana! ;-) Happy Birthday, sis! By the way, the exchange rate is currently $1.3149 to the euro. I'm hoping that by this time tomorrow they'll be on par. Harharhar.

More to come, albeit probably not soon...

Ben

Reflection

2009-01-08T06:36:00.001+01:00

**NOTE**
Scroll down to the bottom of my blog for a new gadget... let me know what you think!
**Thanks!**
Hey all,

Time to head back to Bordeaux after a long short three weeks at home! I was just walking back from dinner with a couple of friends when I decided to look up at the stars. It was a beautiful night with only a modest scattering of twinkling lights to compliment the iridescent moon. But it only swept me away for so long; my body was cold, and after a busy day I decided to continue my walk home so as not to get sick.

Looking back on my visit thus far (my flight is on the 12th), I am happy with what I have accomplished. I have seen my friends quite a bit (Houman, Victor, Noah and Dan being the priority), and I spent a sufficient amount of time with family. My visit has been charged with what I consider to be important events: I saw a wonderful theatrical production of the Arabian Nights, went to my first (and only) American bar, saw some films, ate too much, read a lot, cooked six quiche, and gave/received love in many of its forms.

Tomorrow I apply to a program that would have me teaching English in France next year; this is HUGE: not only would it allow me to stay in France for another year, it would be, like, a job. Y'know? Not to mention it fits perfectly with my academic/career goals. I'm keeping my fingers crossed.

But let's not paint the picture using only pastels; after all, it is the more sombre qualities of a painting that create a space for the light. Family is always tough - I have always been a little too outspoken in my relationships outside the family, and too softspoken in family matters. Having been met with only a couple of relatively serious disappointments, I can be proud of my handling the situation: though I must continue to work on clearly communicating my needs and feelings to those around me, I have without a doubt made progress. I attribute this to the frank nature of the French, and a philosophy of blunt communication that is often perceived as rudeness. Not to worry, I won't go overboard!

In reading about the intellectual environment directly preceding the Chinese Revolution, it becomes evident to me that the American people, and (by proxy) the people of the world are at the heart of a very revolutionary time. What this revolution will look like (because, after all, it will only be one of many) and what role I will come to play in it will prove to be very interesting.

I'm getting a bit droopy-eyed at the moment, so before I start typing gibberish (or worse, philosophizing), I think I'll call it quits.

I'd like to invite you to leave me a comment, doesn't have to be on this post, nor on any of the posts I've already made: after all, this is not the last. There are few things that make me happier than hearing from those of you that read this. Probably because it's so hard for me to believe that you do!

For those who are looking for an opponent, I love playing dominoes, chess, backgammon, and risk. I also just bought a mahjong set and will be learning to play in the coming weeks! Now go read 'muddle of pud'.

Ben 头发

Happy New Year!!!

2009-01-02T07:57:00.000+01:00

...and Best Wishes to all of you for 2009!!!

FINAL POST FOR 2008

2008-12-24T04:33:00.000+01:00

Hey all,

So here I am, back in Albany, CA for the holidays! For me, that means Christmas and New Year's! I was certainly reticent to leave Bordeaux; a fine city in a country that I have grown quite close to; but coming home felt nice.

It has taken four years of college to understand this, but coming home entails a certain degree of introspection: an excuse that I never need, but of which I take advantage nonetheless! I feared coming home might be a bad experience: I might run into someone from high school I wasn't so friendly with, I might have tensions within the family, I might simply be unhappy and not know why. Though all these fears were grounded in ever-available experience, I have seen just how important it is to know oneself in times like these. I ran into some estranged friends from elementary school in the grocery store today, and though we didn't catch up a whole lot, I realized that my feeling confident enough to go up and say hi to the two of them relied heavily on how I felt about myself. What am I doing with my life right now? Why am I doing it? These are two questions, among others, that I feel like I have a pretty solid answer for: I'm proud that I'm pursuing my education in French, and can't see myself being happy doing anything else!

Leaving Bordeaux was sad, as I saw most of the friends I had made there for the last time in a while; we really don't know when we'll see each other next! With them scattered across California, finishing up degrees and working hard, and me staying in France for who knows how long, a reunion in the next year is not promised in the least. This was sad for me; I struggle when I see people close to me leaving. But saying goodbye was a breath of fresh air in some respects: I don't always remind myself enough that the moment is all we have, and that making the most of the here and now is the most important thing, and ultimately the best thing, anyone could do for themselves. So I say goodbye without regrets, knowing that every hello inevitably precedes a goodbye, but also that every sad goodbye prompts the birth of an ever more joyful hello. I believe not in farewells: blame it on my youth. ('yout' as Mary Gaddis says)

Right now I'm focusing on enjoying my stay here; a rare (and steep!) séjour meant to be savored.

In more banal news, it's cold out here! I thought it would be at least 40 degrees; it's been 29 and 30!!! Crazy! Also, I went cheese shopping yesterday and asked for sheep cheese, something I had been introduced to in Bordeaux. They call it 'brebis', the sharper aged version of which is called 'brebis fermier'. I tasted two and picked the latter - it was dryer and had a grainy texture that I adore. Once I had paid and was getting ready to leave, the cheese seller told me it was an aged cheese from the Pyrenees - I just laughed. Of course my tongue recognizes the taste from two days ago!

I went to Long's to do some basic shopping on Sunday, and found myself stumbling through the aisles, dumbfounded. "Why is everyone speaking English???" I asked my mother, though the answer was plain to see. My consciousness had yet to catch up with reason, I suppose.

I tried my hand at making pie crust for quiche last night, and gave up once I realized that a quiche lorrainne calls for eggs, cream, and ham. So, fearing a massive coronary, I opted for a lighter (but not by much) dinner of fajitas and decided to put the quiche off until Christmas dinner. Will be sure to let you all know how that goes! If any of you have tips, they would be greatly appreciated.

Best wishes to each one of you for the holidays, and I look forward to seeing plenty of comments in the year to come!

Ben

Speechless

2008-12-15T18:11:00.001+01:00

Hey all,

Today was the last section for one of my classes at the university. It's a three-hour long course made up of about eight or nine students. As usual, I talk a lot more than I should, and as usual, everyone else stays relatively silent. Even the boy genius, who has an unbelievable knowledge of literary terms, especially when it comes down to the names of specific poetic techniques.

Today it was especially silent, and I was a bit clumsier than usual. Two and a half hours into the course, after many unanswered questions and awkward silences, the teacher stood up and started putting away her things. Indignant, she said she didn't have the energy to teach a course all by herself, especially if only one person was going to speak up. There was a certain chill in her voice that added a layer of ice to the already glacial room.

Unmoving, I sat with my books and notes spread out in front of me, speechless. I refused to accept what had just happened; never have I seen such a drastic action taken with that degree of tempered composition.

What surprised me, however, was not her resignation; when I had recovered to the point that I was able to look around me, I noticed that the French students around me were calmly putting their things away. A sense of defeat hung heavy on the room, yet I was the only one sensitive to it. Some of them seemed to be talking about their weekends as they stood up and filed out of the room. I felt an unbearable shame; the teacher hadn't abandoned the students: they had abandoned her.

I stayed at my seat long after the professor left, waiting for a student to make some kind of protest, some plea to cling on to the remaining half hour. Something inside me wanted to jump out and implore the students to have some dignity, to put up some semblance of a struggle, but I found myself wide-eyed and voiceless, a little boy in a big country. I eventually left, consumed by the shame of not having taken a stand. This entry is my repentance.

I remain stupefied by what I witnessed today. I look forward to whatever insight you all have to offer.

Ben

Tumult and Tidbits!

2008-12-11T00:03:00.000+01:00

Hey all,

I thought I'd pop in a quickie before heading off for bed.

Today, I'm home sick writing a paper for my class on the Enlightenment. Voltaire and his red lambs (lamas?) will make for dinner conversation tonight.

Last night, my host mom joined me for an end-of-program cocktail party near campus. All the Californian students and their respective host families were invited. Though not everyone was able to come, it was really nice to see the friends I've made over the past three months one last time, and I'm glad Dominique was there to meet them!

Last Thursday I performed an adaptation of Eugene Ionesco's play, La Cantatrice Chauve! In class yesterday the professor gave us DVD copies of our performance! Though there is a lot lacking from the film (mainly the energy in the room the night of the spectacle!), I will do the best I can to post the video itself or at least a link to it here on the blog! I'm very proud of it - do not consider acting one of my strong points.

I'll be heading back to California for Winter Break in a little more than a week; a trip that is prompting both excitement and reflection. I have spent three months abroad! Many things have changed in such a short time, and it's going to take time for me to adjust. I'm learning to give myself time to do so - more and more I realize how little things can seem so big at times, and how big things are so easily neglected. I am hoping to gain the perspective to balance these things soon, but I refuse to hold my breath.

At this point, I'm struggling with my future: never has it looked so blurry! Waiting for things to simply fall in to place was nice, but once opportunities are missed, it seems like such a waste! Taking a step back, I realize that I am finishing my undergraduate career - a tumultuous time for just about anyone - and a great opportunity to learn to sway with the waves. Sorry, going with the flow goes against my grain at the moment. :)

I'm going to call it a night! I look forward to writing about the trip I took to Paris last weekend!

Ben

Procrastination

2008-12-05T22:30:00.000+01:00

Hey all,

So... I have much to say about my trip to Paris last weekend, as well as the adaptation of La Cantatrice Chauve I took part in last night, BUT

due to procrastination, I am going to instead tell you what I am reading and post a couple haiku. That is my plural form of that word.

Instead of reading "Dom Carlos", a tale required for my XVIIe siecle literature course, I have started Voltaire's Dictionnaire philosophique. It is a lot of fun and caters to my shrinking attention span.

poemS!

I love the light mist that coats everything in a soft dew.
I love a soft rain, which sounds a constant drum on the window.
I love a heavy pour, which scrubs stones clean and leaves the world refreshed.

A mist coats softly
All surfaces, silent breath
Fresh skin underfoot

all I want to be
confident steps solid ground
nestled tranquil life

Hope this holds y'all off long enough for me to type up something that will do justice to my life this past week...

xoxo
Ben

Today

2008-11-22T14:13:00.000+01:00

Hey all,

Today I tutored my first student in English! She's a high school student planning to take her BAC (similar to the SAT) in June with a concentration in English, and has to prepare for an oral and written exam. I think it went well. I'm still a little nervous - haven't really taught a language before, and am very eager to learn the techniques that will make me a better teacher.

Last night I went out with a friend to see "A Cross the Universe", a documentary about a French band called Justice. Think "Spinal Tap", only real.

I hadn't eaten, so we got some sushi after, which was good. The owner was Korean and he had Korean pop playing on a TV in the restaurant - I was entranced. I was glued to the screen, totally neglecting the friend I was with. I chalk it up to my being so serious all the time and utterly indulging myself in pretty colors and dancing bodies.

Some of you might notice I added a gadget to the blog... it's a word-a-day (more like word-a-minute) for Chinese characters. Though I don't plan on learning every single one displayed (so don't hold me accountable!), I thought it was interesting.

Other than that, just working on homework today - finals are coming up week after next, so I need to wrap up my readings and get working on some papers. Nothing too serious, though.

Until next time!
Ben

Recent

2008-11-16T01:52:00.000+01:00

12:34a

Hey all,

I just got home from seeing The Visitor, a film that came out in the US about a year ago. I had spent the day working on a presentation I have on Monday and running errands, and it was a little reward to myself for being productive. Rarely do I get this feeling of fulfillment from a movie. It's a strange kind of peacefulness that sets upon you ever so gently, like a great big smile that you're not even aware of.

It is an American film that deals with immigration (post-9/11). Watching it, I couldn't help but think about the beautiful poetry I read by detainees at Guantanamo Bay. The poems moved me to a restless anger and frustration: I wanted to act, but didn't. This future that I have invested so much in, and for which I have so much passion, seemed to hold me back from risking my reputation. It was cowardice.

But this film, though bringing me back to those thoughts, did not leave me with guilt. We all make choices, we all live our lives.

Right now I'm dealing with quite a few unknowns - I know I'm staying here in France for the full academic year, but don't yet know exactly how I'm going to fund it. I know I feel good here in France, but I don't know if I'll stay here after graduating. I know I want to begin to pursue a doctorate, but I don't know where to start. Having been racked with these thoughts for a while now, some more nebulous parts have begun to take form.

But while remaining curious, and dedicated to finding the answers I seek, I'm realizing how important it is for me to come to terms with what I don't know. I live my life struggling to reassure myself, when the only person holding me back from doing so is myself. I'm working towards peace - first within myself, then little by little, work with those close to me.

I spent all day yesterday (I didn't have class, not to worry!) with my friend Paul, a Californian from Riverside. I met him on campus for lunch, and then I took him to St. Michel, the immigrant district in Bordeaux. There is an enormous square with a beautiful old church and a cobblestone courtyard with a basketball hoop. Here is where the flea market is on weekends; here is where you get the best produce in Bordeaux; here is where you can get the best mint tea in town. After his class on French Society (very interesting), we headed out to St Michel. It was about 3:30.

We went with the intentions of talking over tea - I'm pretty passionate about the stuff (mostly green, but mint tea is quickly growing on me). Walking towards the cafe I knew there, Cafe de la Fraternite, a young man approached me asking if I wanted some hash. When I said no, a little surprised, he asked me if I wanted coffee. Even more surprised, I smiled and said, "no, I'm looking for tea". He suggested the cafe next door, as the cafe I knew was closed. After looking around a bit, we settled on the one suggested to us. We sat down and ordered two mint teas.

I liked talking with Paul; it was the first time I had really hung out with him. He's staying for the year, and is renting an apartment not far out of town. I'm trying to start meeting more people here for the year because so many of the Californians I have been hanging out with are leaving at the end of December. I'm trying to get in touch with people in apartments to see what their situation is like; I might not be able to stay with my homestay situation next semester, depending on the demand of the incoming Spring students.

He brought up a Chinese-French author that was recently appointed to the Academie Francaise, Francois Cheng. Continuing to indulge my literary curiosity, we went to Mollat (France's Borders) and I picked up a copy of Le Dit de Tian-yi after two cups of tea across town. I also decided to pick up Aristotle's Poetics since I didn't have a French copy to cite, and it really comes in handy when reading Racine. I saw Aristotle's Ethique a Nicomaque and decided to pick that up, too. I figure I won't be learning ancient Greek anytime soon, and the theory would come in handy. Also picked up a copy of the bible, which I'm reading for a class.

I insisted on getting another cup of tea after and dragged him to a kebab place close to where I live in Gambetta, a yuppie yet surprisingly rough and very beautiful part of Bordeaux. I went home, happy that I had more fun books to read... I'm doing pretty well for my reading in my classes, but still have plenty left to do before the end of the semester. And yet I still make time to read whatever takes my fancy - last weekend, it was Ovide's L'Art d'aimer. This weekend it might be M Cheng, or maybe les contes de Charles Perrault. I could get used to being surrounded by such good stuff! It's like soaking in a bathtub full of warm mud; I can feel the words being absorbed, and with every step I take on these cobbled streets I digest a little bit more, process some of the mud that I have taken in and churn it out like a refined mulch.

I met someone else staying for the year at the DEFLE, where I have my theater class once a week. She's a student from China, Welly, and I'm trying to keep up the little Chinese I've learned in short conversations with her. I've been pretty shy in general and am trying to get myself out to meet French people instead of surrounding myself with the good friends I've made from California. This I see as a start - one step at a time!

Make sure you check out the blogs on my blog list! I check some of them several times a day... more indulgence on my part!

Am going to go get some more tea and do some reading. Hope you all are happy and well.

Ben

2008-11-09T19:13:00.000+01:00

Listening to a Serge Gainsbourg CD I borrowed from my host family. Enjoying his voice.

With the election, we've been speaking more and more about politics - they're socialists and I feel pretty open when it comes to talking with them (not that I have many inhibition in general - French is such a beautiful language, I don't feel like I could say anything wrong when speaking it).

I went to see "W", the new Oliver Stone film with a friend of mine, Emmannuelle - while she was able to watch from a rather detached, critical perspective, I found my judgement clouded by overwhelming emotion. It was painful to revisit the worst parts of the last eight years, especially in the context of Bush's life story. We tried discussing the film at a cafe after, but I found myself far too caught up in anger and sadness to form sentences. I bumbled through the French language, not able to find the words in English to describe what I was feeling. My friend was very patient - she thought it was interesting that the film was able to affect me so, and we both agreed that this was the mark of a well-done piece of art. After all, evoking emotion is art's objective, is it not?

I'm struggling through my reading - feel like I have so much of it to do, and I read so slowly. But to tell the truth, I don't always read what's assigned - right now, I'm growing tired of Zola and slipping between Racine's Brittanicus (required for my 17th century class) and Ovide's L'art d'amour. Hoping to finish l'art d'amour today so that I'm no longer tempted. May go out with the family to see a movie tonight - Vincent Cassel has a new film out, "L'Instinct de Mort", which looks interesting. Loved him in "La Haine", and figure I can't go wrong.

With the cold weather, the family is bringing all the outdoor plants indoors, which means I got a new roommate! Feels nice to have another living thing in the room - I was just thinking about my basil plant back home earlier today, and I'm glad to have a little plant of my own again!

Be back soon!
Ben

Photos!

2008-11-08T01:40:00.000+01:00

For those of you who haven't already noticed, I wanted to make sure everyone knew that I posted my photos from Lund up on my photobucket!

Italian Sausage and Swedish Meatballs

2008-11-05T14:53:00.000+01:00

10/25/08

Hey all,

I'm here in Sweden! I got to Copenhagen late Friday night - the plane from Paris was delayed by an hour. But sure enough, I made it to Lund, where my friend Kim is studying abroad!

On the train from Copenhagen I had to transfer and got a little bit lost, so I found myself asking people if they spoke English. A young woman timidly replied "a little" and proceeded to attempt to explain the train lines to me. She struggled a great deal, but was very kind and eager to help. I thanked her, and said I was glad to have found someone who spoke English! As it turned out, however, she was French! I could have saved her the discomfort of struggling with a language in front of a stranger had I asked if anyone spoke French, instead of English... I chalk it up to imperialism. hahaha

We got to talking, and apparently she and three other girls are au pairs in Lund (nannies - I thought of you, O!). Her fellow au pairs (Germans) met her on our train from Malmo to Lund, and we all got to talking - apparently there's a building called the "Turning Torso" in Lund, which is worth visiting. We'll see! It was funny because we were speaking in German, French, and English - one of the German girls only spoke German and English, the other only spoke German and French, and the French girl and I only spoke English and French. Was a funny little conversation, to say the least.

The weather here was beautiful yesterday, as you'll see in the photos I will upload... we went to Helsingborg and explored a castle and looked for Halloween costumes for my friends there. Kim, the friend from UCSC who put me up, found leopard print ears and a tail - check the photos!

It was nice to see Sweden in the Fall... There's something vaguely familiar about Sweden's Anglo culture... Something about seeing wreaths and decorative squash for sale made me think of Halloween, a holiday that I don't entirely understand. Basically, I found my inner Viking in Sweden.

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11/5/08

Just to wrap up Sweden before moving on...

Candles are a big deal in Lund - in every store, one can find an abundance of them. The light is very soothing - there's something very pleasant about candlelight.

We visited the Lund Cathedral, an imposing old building that closely resembled my image of a haunted mansion on my first night in town. Inside was amazing - I highly recommend checking out my videos.

I left Lund for Milan on Wednesday morning, arriving at about 8pm Wednesday night. I hadn't booked a hostel in advance, so ended up in a dingy hotel with little light and unfriendly service.

I also found myself having a lot of trouble, not knowing a lick of Italian. I had gone banking on the notion that, being so close to the French border, the Milanese would speak a little bit of French, and if not French, perhaps English. However, it was neither French nor English, but my two years of high school Spanish that served me best in Italy!

I went to bed lonely and frustrated with myself for not planning things out better. At the time, I felt I should have either traveled with friends or stayed with Kim in Lund for the rest of vacation!

I woke up the next morning, however, and set out to wander the city, which is quite beautiful. I did a quick visit of Castle Sforza and wandered through the main streets branching off from the castle, getting a small taste of the student protests and having a bit of gnocchi at a little cafe for lunch.

I exercised extreme restraint when passing windows decorated with some of the finest silk shirts, ties, and scarves I have seen - I was even tempted to get a pair of nice socks! I was very proud of myself for not caving to my consumer-driven temptations... now, more than ever, it's important for me to save what little money I have to put towards the rest of my year abroad!

Though I had to leave for the airport at 1pm on Thursday, I am glad I got to see a little bit of what is (apparently) the biggest city in Italy. I learned my lesson, and will be sure to spend more than one day in Italy next time I go.

Oh, good news - I was recently informed that my request to extend my studies abroad from Fall semester to a full year has been approved. Now all I have to do is figure out how those studies will be paid for, and I can focus on my work!

-----------------------------------------------------------------

11/5/08 3pm

Hey all,

Sorry for the late update! Things have been crazy returning from vacation - I have ahd a great time catching up with friends and working myself back into the rhythm of school! It was nice to return to France and start speaking French again. Funny how much I missed it in Sweden... Though it was indeed nice to be in a country where most of the population speaks almost flawless English, there was something I missed about speaking French. Though I still have a lot of room to improve, and most likely always will, I definitely enjoy hearing and speaking the language.

Returned to Bordeaux at about 11:30pm on Thursday night. I hopped on the first tram back 'home' (it was pouring rain!) and settled down for the short ride back to a familiar bed. As it was raining, and I had no umbrella, I asked the girl sitting next to me if getting off at another stop would be closer. She answered me politely - nothing out of the ordinary. However, when I turned my head and made eye contact to thank her, I realized she was sobbing uncontrollably, silently wiping tears away. It felt horrible to know I had callously asked such a trivial question when this girl was bearing so much pain... I felt a pang of guilt, but reassured myself that she must be feeling horribly awkward herself - the tram is certainly not the most private of places.

Fortunately, I had a million kleenex on me (thanks mom!) and I encouraged her to take as many as she wanted. For the rest of the ride, I was a little stupefied, tempted to try to comfort her, but at the same time wanting to maintain a respectful distance, recognizing I had no idea what she was going through. I also didn't want to add to her embarrassment by drawing attention to her sorrow... I was tempted to just reach over give her a hug! (hugs, by the way, are NOT French... not in my experience, at least) I fought back the urge to try and sympathize, as I so often do in my assuming way. I tend to forget that the world doesn't revolve around me, and that my own sadness cannot be compared outright with that of another. In the end, I settled for a meager "I hope things get better", and "there's always tomorrow!" in the cheeriest voice I could muster. I left the tram feeling consumed by thoughts of pain and sadness, and how lonely suffering can be. Sometimes, I feel only a stranger can comfort us in the way we need it most - through unconditional understanding. Though I felt I hadn't done everything I could for this young woman, it felt good to walk home reflecting on what I had experienced.

My host family was still gone for vacation when I returned to Bordeaux, and they wouldn't be coming back until Sunday, so I wrapped up and read in bed for most of my weekend, putting off a measly paper on Stendhal for impossibly dark Baudelaire poems on a rainy weekend.

On Saturday, a Quebequois family came to visit - the father and mother are academics who moved from Bordeaux to Quebec about 4 years ago, and they come once a year during Toussaints to visit my host family and stay in their house in Nice. The mom was away on business, but the father, Bernard, and his two kids Elise (5?) and Matteo (8?) stayed in the daughter's room across the hall. The dad was really cool - the first day they arrived they went "shopping", and he bought what must have been about 3 kilos of candy. The little boy got sick from the candy, naturally, and they ran around the house like crazy for three days straight. The kids were adorable! I really liked having all that energy in the house - the 17 year old son is the most rambunctious between the four of us, but nothing really compares to the positive energy and plain ol' happiness of kids.

It really lifted my spirits at a point when I was feeling terribly homesick and sad. When they left today, the boy clutched on to me and wouldn't let me go - it was really cute but kinda sad! Kids get so close to people so quickly! Though it seems strange to me that he should do so, maybe it's adults that are the weird ones - we form all these barriers to protect ourselves from being hurt to the point that it becomes perfectly natural to say goodbye. Though it was sad to see the boy in tears, I was really touched by his affection for someone he really didn't know that well! I didn't feel like I made a tremendous effort to connect with these kids, but the connection was made nonetheless. Adorable.

It also reminds me that sometimes life isn't all that short, and that fate brings people back together. I was happy to see him leave, because I knew he would have some amazing stories for me the next time I saw him - be it in one year or ten!

Am going to the Grand Theatre tonight with some girlfriends - going to see my first ballet! I'm really excited - for whatever reason, I've never exposed myself to opera, theatre, or ballet! This should be an amazing experience, and these girls are a lot of fun. I'm definitely in for a treat. Not to mention the Grand Theatre is gorgeous!

Before I go back to homework (host mom and I will be reading by the fireplace upon her return from dropping the Quebequois off at the airport), I'd like to indulge in something I've been tempted to speak on for a while now. I'll do my best to keep things short - I could write a book on the politics of the last two months, especially concerning the unique perspective I've been exposed to here in France.

I'm mounting my soapbox, so flee now or forever speak your mind.

Today, on the 5th of November, 2008, I feel like I can once and for all say, with a deep swelling pride, that I am an American. Last night the American people (myself included) elected Barack Obama as President of the United States of America. Not only was he elected, he won by a landslide. And strangely enough, it wasn't so much his speech about the great struggle we have before us, or the culmination of the American spirit coming together that touched me; it was he who graciously stepped aside that I found to be the most moving of the night.

I never thought I'd be praising Senator John McCain, but his performance last night in the face of overwhelming defeat was admirable.

John McCain stepped up to a podium in front of his supporters and conceded defeat with great dignity and poise, giving his own bitter feelings after losing a hard-fought election (and it was difficult, for both men) a back seat for the sake of both the voice of the people and the path of history. He spoke with a sincerity that did not weigh heavy on his words, but instead contributed to a surprisingly surreal feeling that history is actively being MADE. He recognized that now is a time for America to become, once again, as President Obama has repeated time and time again, the UNITED States of America. No longer can we let primary colors dictate the level of respect with which we treat one another.

He stepped up and encouraged his supporters to take all the passion and energy that they contributed to his failed campaign and to put it towards helping their new president rebuild this country of boundless potential. I was impressed with his integrity and clarity - something that did not show in his previous speeches. It seemed like the crowd of booing supporters no longer suited the class act on the podium. What we witnessed was two great men fight the good fight - one made mistakes and lost, the other didn't.

In a gesture of geniuine humility that contradicts the McCain I've seen, he said "Today, I was a candidate for the highest office in the country I love so much, and tonight, I remain her servant - that is blessing enough for anyone".

In stepping aside graciously, John McCain set the precedent and gave the Republican party something to be proud of last night. Not an easy feat, by far. I hope Americans can find it in themselves to recognize how great a feat that is after 8 years of seemingly boundless shame.

Though I was not lucky enough to join most of you in the US to celebrate this historic event, I still feel like I played a special role in it all the way out here in France. I spoke my mind, and represented my ideals without attempting to speak on behalf of the US. After all, I consider myself unique even amongst Californian liberals.

Lastly, Sarah Palin and her sensationalist rhetoric scares me half to death - I desperately hope against hope that she disappears.

I realize praising McCain may seem to contradict my fervent support of President Obama, and that some of you might disagree with what I have written here. I would argue that in the spirit of coming together as a country we must learn to see the gray area that is often obscured by media overload. We must make the effort to show the weakness that is strength, and recognize the good in that which is portrayed as evil.

I wish you all the best and thank you for taking the time to read this enormous update. It's important to me that you're reading this - the only thing better than living an experience is sharing it.

With love,
Ben

New

2008-10-21T22:20:00.000+02:00

Hey all,

Classes are going well, am enjoying my reading and working hard. Performed a piece in my theater class today, which is way out of the ordinary for me - acting is definitely not a skill I was born with, but the performance turned out pretty well.

Got a couple packages from my mom this weekend - in them were goodies galore! New Yorkers, the Obama pin I had been waiting for for a month, a nice leather man-purse, and tons of other surprises. I proudly sported the pin today, earning funny looks from French people and high fives from fellow Californians. Barack Obama has the overwhelming support of the French, and they have trouble understanding why the other guy is even running.

Had an eventful weekend - on Friday I went to dinner with a fellow Californian, which was fun... we ate "Chez les Ploucs" which means "At the Hillbilly's", more or less. Creepy stuffed dolls, candles, straw on the floor and red checkered tablecloth. Interesting atmosphere... I had pork with pineapple, which was really good. The French serve french fries with everything, by the way. Go figure.

The family had a marriage to attend in Grenoble this weekend, so I was left to my own devices, which I rather liked.

On Saturday, I slept in and worked on my calligraphy using the fountain pens Auntie Nancy gave me for my pre-emptive graduation present. Saturday night, I went to see an interpretation of Cyrano de Bergerac at a cute little theater near the banks of the Gironde, the river that runs through Bordeaux. Fortunately, I had seen several other representations of the play (José Ferrer, Gerard Depardieu, Steve Martin) and had read it in high school, so I was able to relax knowing that I wouln't miss anything. The story is really quite moving - unrequited love due to tragically low self-esteem. The performance was amazing - four actors playing the major roles, the minor roles being filled by puppets. I'm becoming more and more aware of the influence of puppets in French culture... interesting, to say the least. Not to mention they frighten me. Hahaha.

I went to the play alone, and mostly enjoyed the silence that accompanies flying solo. I've been feeling rather lonely recently (mostly my doing - I have a long list of people that will corroborate this), but sometimes there's nothing I'd rather do than wander up and down the narrow streets with nothing but my thoughts to keep me company, as they often do. And that is exactly what I did.

It was a beautiful night, not too cold, and the theater opens out onto a little plaza with a beautiful fountain. The French do amazing things with lights - it seemed as if the fountain was illuminated against the dark night. The architecture and sculpture fascinates me in the worst way - I'm an American tourist eagerly lapping up the history that seeps from these ancient stones.

In certain parts of Bordeaux, there are stone masks over doorways - each mask is different and kind of fascinates me. I must pass by the same ones every day, but it always seems fresh and new each time I see it. (Note: link is to a french wikipedia article which is more exhaustive than the english one. Worth checking out, even if just for the pix!)

On weekends, the cafe-lined cobbled streets are filled with people sharing conversation over glasses of wine. To see that many people out and interacting is foreign to me - back home, our streets are wide, dark, and often cold. Not an atmosphere that cultivates community, to say the least. I adore conversation, and have found myself pleasantly submerged in the art so appreciated by the French.

On Sunday afternoon I went to the Jardin Public to practice the piece I performed today, and stayed to sit and chat with Alex (a link to his blog is at the top of the page). A friend that I met on the train back from Paris called and invited me out for dinner. I accepted, both wanting to spend time with French people and get out of an empty house for the night. We had a nice dinner - talked about Woody Allen movies and politics. I'm pretty cynical and a little extreme in my views concerning American politics, and my friend was pleasantly surprised. "Are there many people like you in the US???" was one of the reactions I solicited. We spent a great amount of time discussing the various definitions of 'patriot' and it's many applications... Though it was a nice night and the food was good, I was left feeling a bit depressed about the current state of affairs. Everyone go vote, k? I already did.

I will have successfully opened a French bank account by tomorrow morning. Toussaint's is coming up fast! Taking off for Sweden on Friday at 2pm! Will be paying a visit to my friend Kim in Lund, where she's studying abroad. I will then go to Milan on the 29th and stay for a day or two to see the sights. Then it's back to Bordeaux, where I will finish up homework and rest up for the second half of the semester!

Back to homework and such, will be sure to post an update again once I'm in Sweden! Look forward to photos, k? And once again, I'd like to extend an invitation to address any questions you have in the comments section! I'd love to hear what you all have to say, and have no problem answering whatever questions you may have.

Best,
Ben

Update

2008-10-13T21:24:00.000+02:00

Hey all,

For the Disney fans out there, tonight I had my first taste of the (recently) famous dish, ratatouille! It was really interesting - like a complex pasta sauce, without the pasta. Had I been brought up on it, it would definitely have made excellent comfort food. Might look into a recipe soon!

A friend posted this article on Facebook and I've been glued to the computer since... a long one, save it for heavy procrastination/extreme boredom. The New Yorker.

Also, I've been meaning to mention this but haven't had a chance... Converse All-Stars and keffiyeh's are very much in fashion over here. Just a reminder that if you want to be fashion-forward, just go America-backwards.

Went to the doctor today and it turns out I have tonsillitis! This is good news, because I can take antibiotics and be back on track in no time. The bad news is, in taking antibiotics I'm encouraging a super-strain of ubervirulent monster bacteria that will someday wipe out the human race and life as we know it. Lol.

Weather out here is strange - overcast and high 70s. Anticipating some serious rainfall in the next few days.

I'll have a week off for Toussaint at the end of October. I'll be visiting a friend in Lund until October 29th, and then hitting up Milan, returning to Bordeaux on the first or second of November. I'll be sure to take plenty of pictures and keep everyone updated while over there!!! Sorry to be missing Halloween, but I'm sure Toussaint holds in store charms aplenty to last the week.

-Ben

Carnival!

2008-10-12T19:08:00.000+02:00

10/12/08 2am
Hey all!

Had a crazy day today - wasn't feeling well this morning (had a mean sore throat), so I thought I'd stay home and rest up. I've been fighting off a cold for about two weeks now, so it's tempting to brush it off. Had a restful morning reading Stendhal. Later in the day, I went out to withdraw some cash (loving the exchange rate! Not loving why it's good, though...).

Some friends invited me to see "Vicky Cristina Barcelona", the new Woody Allen movie. It was really good - not the biggest Woody Allen fan, but provided the combination of the subject (love) and the setting (Europe), I had a lot to identify with. My friends had just came back from Barcelona - I think I'm officially convinced to visit the city soon! Even if only to see the Gaudi garden...

It was interesting to see Allen's views on the different reasons for which people love. We all bring our past into our relationships, which has a big part to do with what we look for in partners. I would recommend the film.

We then went to get Indian food, which was good - hadn't had a mango lassi since I had left Berkeley! A UCB student and I swore to meet on Telegraph to partake in other delicious cuisines as soon as both of us were back in the states.

Speaking of which, my stay may end up being longer than I had originally intended - it has been suggested to me that I should consider doing a master's here, and at the moment that's something I'd like to pursue.

After Indian food, we played with water by place de la bourse. Photographs were abundant, as it is gorgeous at night and right by the river - will be sure to upload whatever pictures I get from everyone else's cameras ASAP! Got some fun action shots of me 'walking on water'. Don't tell the pious lol.

On the way to a carnival that just happened to be in town, my friends and I stumbled upon a group of young men celebrating their buddy's bachelor's party! In French, bachelor's party = "l'enterrement de la vie de garcon", which literally translated means "burial of the boy's life". I think the term is morbid, but nonetheless fits well. The victim (bachelor) is usually in a costume - in this case he was cross dressing. Pretty funny. Way more interesting than an American bachelor party, if you ask me - not to mention safer... ;-)

The carnival was fun. Rarely do I get swept up in attractions like that - my jaded self usually gets preoccupied with looking beyond all the bright lights to the layer of unhappiness just below the surface. Something; though I don't know what, left that sulky part of me behind and let me romp in the sleazy wonder that is a traveling fair. I might have to content myself with the fact that it was nice to be out on a beautiful warm night and enjoy simple pleasures with happy people! lol

Got to speak to my mom, sister, and later Houman later in the evening. It was really nice to hear their voices, and I look forward to speaking with them again face to face, whenever that should be.

I uploaded the photos from my camera on photobucket, so they're there for whoever wants them!

Bedtime for me! A long day is over and I have a lot of work ahead of me! Good night!

10/12/08 7pm
Good evening!

I seem to have caught a bug that I had managed to dodge the first four weeks of classes... Am doing all the resting I can today while trying to stay productive. I will be sure to speak with the EAP representatives here in Bordeaux about seeing a doctor and getting drugs asap, mom!

Worked on my calligraphy this afternoon using a collection of fountain pens my aunt had given me for graduation. Though it's not obvious in this blog, my handwriting is atrocious to the point of illegibility, and picking up a fountain pen to work on that every now and then doesn't seem like such a bad idea!

It's overcast yet warm today, which has made it easy to curl up with a mug of tea and a book. After a first-day faux pas I had shyed away and used the more formal "vous" in addressing the mother and father of the family, but today I decided to take my host parents up on the offer they made a few weeks ago to 'tutoie' them. I feel that it will go a long way in making me more comfortable here, due to a lack of confidence with the 'vous' form of verb conjugations in more obscure tenses.

I'm going to go back to work before dinner, have a lot of reading to do!

Hope you're all doing well and I'll be sure to update again soon!

Ben

Photo!

2008-10-10T21:52:00.001+02:00

Hey all,

My mom asked me this morning if I had any photos of the family I'm staying with, and unfortunately I had been to shy to ask... so tonight at the dinner table, I brought it up and we promptly took a picture! From left to right: Patrick, Timothee, Dominique, Ben!

Pictures of the daughters are on the way...

Finally!

2008-10-09T23:48:00.001+02:00

Hey all,

I can't believe it's been since September 20th!!! Sorry to keep you waiting - I've been swamped with classes! These past few weeks have been extremely stressful, between figuring out the different system, financial issues, and fighting off a cold.

Am listening to the Killers (Sawdust) and putting the finishing touches on a scholarship essay... feeling a bit nostalgic for the past, but eagerly anticipating my future.

I started classes three weeks ago! Originally I was taking a lot of classes I wasn't prepared for - needed to know Latin for some, others just wouldn't end up transferring. So, after much turbulence, I finally feel secure in a schedule! Boy does it feel good! Currently reading L'Abbesse de Castro, will soon start L'Assomoir. Am also reading L'Heptameron and L'Ingenu. Just finished Candide and Gargantua. At the book store yesterday I got The Portrait of Dorian Gray, for when I get lazy and want to read some English hahah!

Classes are great; I'm understanding about 90%, but having a lot of trouble expressing myself. I've decided to chalk it up to nervousness: I have no trouble speaking French with fellow Californians or strangers my age, but once I start talking to a professor, I start correcting myself and stumble clumsily through my sentences, making me feel just a little bit pathetic. Fortunately, I'll have ample opportunities to change that in the coming weeks - I signed up for an oral presentation on a section of Racine's Britannicus on 11/17, which I'm really excited about. It's a really creepy scene - lines 603-634, for those who have their works handy!

My Chinese class has been disappointing intellectually, but has been great for a weary student who wants to settle in and relax for two hours a week. Apparently it's only a conversational Chinese class, which makes no sense whatsoever. So, I'll have to continue practicing my characters on my own, hoping I'm not completely hopeless by the time I decide to start seriously working on it again. Both my teacher and my fellow students think I'm some sort of genius because I know a few characters and a completely different vocabulary - not something I expected coming into it! Just cashing in on the benefits of a wonderful teacher, I suppose. 我想您的中文棵, 金老师!!! I had my mother send me "Lady in the Painting/畫儿上的美人" so that I could entertain myself with reading outside of French.

My weekend in Paris was amazing - couldn't capture all of it on film, but to be honest I didn't really want to! I've been working on living life instead of capturing it on paper/film... living with regrets gets old after a while! My friend Julie welcomed me with open arms, treating me to a wonderful dinner out my first night in town, and then walking the length of the Champs-Elysees with me. The next morning I met another friend for lunch at the Pompidou Center, which I've never seen - it's hideous in comparison with Hotel de Ville, about two blocks away. We saw a Falun Gong march, which was strange - I had heard about them in reference to the Olympics, but Kelly ended up being the one to fully debrief me on what they're into. Strange!

After lunch, Julie met me at Hotel de Ville and took me to Montmartre - as you can see in the photos, it was an amazing day! As usual, I was totally overdressed; had no idea it was going to be sunny and warm my one weekend in Paris.

I told her I wanted to go to Place de Pigalle to see where Zazie Dans le Metro's Gabriel danced - she thought it was weird, but we went nonetheless. I got us some yummy pastries and then we took a walk down the astonishingly sleazy district - I didn't expect every single store to be a sex shop/strip joint. And certainly not for blocks and blocks and blocks... hahah I decided I was done exploring Pigalle and we sat down and talked for a bit, then headed over to St. Germain-des-Pres, where Sartre, Vian & Co. used to pass their time. The district didn't hold a whole lot for a poor student like yours truly (except for an AWESOME book sale - spent 5 euros on something like 10 books/plays!), so we made our way to the Luxembourg Gardens. After walking there for a bit, she had to take off - girls only dinner for her friend's birthday! I stayed and soaked up the Gardens to the best of my ability - I can see myself settling into one of the benches with a good book and never leaving. Between the trees, lovers, and statues, I don't think I could get enough.

So there I stayed until the sun set. I decided, on the way to meeting Julie and her girlfriends at a bar later that night, I would indulge in Japanese food for dinner. Needless to say, the sushi in Bordeaux is not stellar. It was okay, and not too pricy. On the way to the metro, I stumbled upon a book sale (see above). I headed out to the bar, arriving at 9pm, thinking I would be a bit early. As it turns out, Julie had her cell phone off and the dinner went later than expected - they didn't make it to the bar until 10:30! So, being the patient guest in an unknown city, I settled down in a cafe and started reading Britannicus - a rare sight in that part of town! Got some funny looks, but passed the time well.

The bar was fun - danced a lot, talked a lot. They had TVs set up showing music videos - Prince and Gwen Stefani blew my mind hahahah.

The next day, we went to have brunch at Le Pain Quotidien in the Marais district, not far off from Hotel de Ville. The wait for a table was terrible, but with good company time passes quickly. The meal was huge - hardly needed dinner later that night! I said my goodbyes and hopped on the train - got back to Bordeaux at around 8pm. On the train, I sat next to a really interesting young woman, Emmanuelle. She was reading the Courrier International (see previous posts). We were able to talk a lot about cultural differences, especially in reference to present-day politics. A very rewarding exchange, hopefully I'll meet her again soon!

Will be getting a week off (October 24-November 2) for All Saint's week! Am planning on visiting a friend in Sweden for half the time and perhaps spending the other half in the south of France! Was very disappointed to hear I had missed the Jazz Festival in Nice, which apparently happens in July. My other UC friends have done a lot more traveling on the weekends - too expensive for my budget! Not to mention I will be staying here for the rest of the year and will have plenty of time to travel.

My french family has been great - when I let them know I'd be staying for the year, they gave me the play schedule and asked me which ones I'd like to attend. I'll be sure to keep you updated on that experience - unfortunately, they don't start showing until February/March.

Had salmon with creamy pesto sauce and a side of zucchini for dinner last night, a homemade quiche tonight - the food has been excellent! I showed them an Obama t-shirt that my mom had sent me, and they were very impressed. He's very popular here. Speaking of which, I watched the last debate live the other night - 3am-5am or something silly like that. Was very worth it - makes me feel a little bit more in touch with what's going on over there. By the way, the US's economic crisis is (fortunately for the exchange rate) definitely being felt here in France, and surely Europe as a whole. Everyone's pulling for someone to pull the US out of this nightmare!

Last night at the dinner table, I found myself speaking with the eldest daughter, a recent doctorate, and the mother and father of my host family about gender roles in France and the US. I found that, although my perspective was embraced by some and not entirely by others, the four of us were fully capable of having a serious, intellectual debate without losing our tempers or being insulted. Suddenly, I realized that I was taking part in a French discussion. I appreciated, for the first time, my unique perspective of an outsider looking in.

Hmm... what else? Go vote? You already know that. Hey, if any of you have any questions for me feel free to ask in the comments! No need to be shy! Hope you're all doing well! Until next time!

Ben/毛海东

Saturday!

2008-09-20T15:55:00.000+02:00

Hey all,

Got a great surprise in the mail today - a care package from Kelly! In it were wasabi roasted green peas, a nice shirt, green tea and sesame snacks!!! I'm a really lucky guy.

The weather has been gorgeous the past two days, a rarity in the Fall. So, to take full advantage, I've been going to the Jardin Public to read in the afternoons! It is amazing. As if the architecture isn't beautiful enough, the gardens are lush and well-maintained. Last time I went, there was a children's puppet show. This time there was a group of students!

I've plugged in two videos that I took earlier today of this amazing garden! You can check out some photos on my photobucket, too!

I've been doing a lot of reading - finished Paludes by Andre Gide and am currently halfway through La Symphonie Pastorale. I didn't realize he won the Nobel Prize for La Symphonie... it's pretty interesting so far, not so surprised.

Classes start on Monday! I have worked up a schedule in Excel, but am currently trying to figure out how to post it on the blog so everyone can see it.

The French have a weekly journal called the Courrier International where they take articles from newspapers around the world and translate them - a pretty amazing idea, and a great approach to getting world news. I was very impressed when my french parents showed it to me last night - I read an article from the SF Chronicle in French! It was very interesting.

Until next time!
Ben

Ma Chambre

2008-09-15T19:55:00.000+02:00

Here's a tour of my room

Tours of my homestay

2008-09-14T22:11:00.000+02:00

hey all,

Here's a tour of the first floor of my homestay, followed by a tour of my bedroom! The house is beautiful!!!

video of Ali... was there for the singing but not for the drinking.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=W1ssDOmQUGU

Will post a video tour of my room sometime tomorrow!!!

Ben

Update

2008-09-14T13:15:00.000+02:00

Hey all,

So things have been good. I'm eating plenty, reading lots, and enjoying the city. In terms of logistics, I'm going to apply for a carte de sejour Monday morning to try and extend my visa. I will also head to the University to try and wrap my head around the classes offered - the way they are presented is much different from that used in the US, and it is going to take a little bit of explaining for me to understand it.

Classes start on the 22nd of September, and until then I will take full advantage of my free time to read and take some walks - there is a beautiful park about 4 blocks away.

My family is great - Dominique and Patrick are the parents, and they have three children: Timothee, who just turned 17 and lives at home; Marie, who is 24 and is getting her doctorate in Poli Sci and lives in town with her boyfriend; and Lauriane, who is studying in Paris with her boyfriend and visits on the weekends.

The house is beautiful - I have plans to do a video tour of it sometime later today. I will be sure to upload it as soon as I take it. It's a three-story 19th century house. I'm staying in Timothee's old room, which is papered with pictures of Tintin and Snowy the dog! The mom is a professor and the dad works for a publisher, so they have thousands of books around the house. Basically, I'm tempted to abandon my education at the university of bordeaux until I've read through their entire collection. Lauriane tried to convince me last night to immerse myself in Proust, but I'm still working on a Gide novel and I indulged in some Racine earlier today :-/

We've been eating wonderful food - lots of great cheese and bread to go with. Apparently eating salad with cheese and bread is big here. It's all good!

Lauriane, the 'pasta expert' made amazing pesto gnocci and some peppardelle last night for dinner. Delicious is one of many words that comes to mind in trying to describe how good the food has been.

The family has put a bicycle and an umbrella at my disposal, both of which I'm sure to use frequently in the coming months. Though they speak nothing but French and I struggle with most of the conversations, I feel very welcome in their home. They have a beautiful backyard, where I've been reading a bit - the weather is sunny and warm today, and was yesterday, but it showers frequently here at very short intervals, which can make it hard to dress. Lots of sweater-wearing going on.

I've been trying to learn how to appreciate red wine, which is slow going. For obvious reasons, some of my fellow Californians have cultivated an abundant appreciation for the stuff. Fortunately, we have wine every night at dinner.

Can't think of anything else for now! Feel free to ask questions in your comments!

Ben

Homestay

2008-09-13T12:53:00.000+02:00

Hey all,

Going to make this one short - I moved into my homestay last night!

Things are good - the mother is half Italian and she was very excited when she heard I'm Calabrese by origin...

Will update again soon!

Ben

Homestay!

2008-09-10T22:15:00.000+02:00

Hey all,

I just learned where I'll be staying for my homestay! So, please send mail there instead of to the University!

The address is:

Ben Hair
6, rue Emile Fourcand
33000 Bordeaux, FRANCE

They're a husband and wife with three kids and no pets. The kids are 24, 21, and 17 - the youngest is a boy and the older ones are girls. They will have internet access there, so hopefully updates will come more often once I've moved in (this Friday)!

Have been doing a lot of reading - checked out like 5 books from the library today - French nerd heaven, by the way. Nothing but French books! I'm currently reading Paludes by Andre Gide.

Hope you're all well and I'll talk to you soon!

Ben

Update!

2008-09-07T22:30:00.000+02:00

Hey all,

Listening to Sonny Rollins and practicing some Chinese characters on a sunny Sunday night. It's been raining quite a bit, though the showers are brief. Things are definitely getting colder, though! A perfect time to sport my pea coat.

Some friends of mine went to Cognac earlier today and should be back pretty soon. We'll be metting for dinner once they arrive.

The week has been relatively uneventful - my French class is a bit rigorous, but we're working on grammar, which is exactly what I need. I have a presentation on Wednesday on a district in Bordeaux called St Michel, and I'll be focusing mostly on immigration and the relationship St Michel has to other districts, mainly its ethnic diversity.

I'll be taking another placement test tomorrow morning to rank me for the University classes - a big deal! There will be an oral component to the test in addition to other written components similar to the test we took a little over a week ago. In preparation, I've been speaking French with a lot of my neighbors, who are native French speakers from Gabon and Cameroon. I have also been doing a bit of reading in french to work on my comprehension.

I have lots of Chinese neighbors, too! To be completely honest, I haven't seen a single student in the dorms that is French by origin - mostly recent immigrants. It's been an amazing experience, and I'll be sad to leave the dorms this coming Friday to move in with my homestay family. The proximity to fellow UC students as well as the cultural diaspora I've been exposed to will be greatly missed, and it should be interesting to find out how I adjust.

Had dinner at McDonald's tonight, much to my chagrin... a friend was craving a cheeseburger. I found myself trying to describe my ethical qualms with their business tactics in French, which was fun. Had a nice long conversation with Stam, a friend of one of my neighbors today and we got to talk a little bit about culture. I got to flex my French muscles and he had a lot of questions, saying he would be in the US for three years to study.

I've been trying to keep in touch with the world through Podcasts - am really enjoying Fresh Air at the moment. Am currently dling some BBC podcasts, as well - I like "World Have Your Say". McCain and his vp scare me - sounds like he's really gaining in popularity.

I've been posting videos and photos on my photobucket, so make sure to check that out!

Hope you're all doing well! I've heard it's getting pretty hot. Everyone take care, until next time!

Ben

My Dorm Room

2008-09-06T20:57:00.000+02:00

Happy Birthday!

2008-09-02T09:18:00.000+02:00

yay! I'm 21 today!!!

Classes started yesterday, and I was placed in Group 4, which is the highest possible group to place in. Woohoo! I have a lot of friends in that class, too, which is great.

We did a dictee after introducing ourselves and read a short Jacques Prevert poem, <>. It was fun, but consuming - class from 9:30-12:30 and then from 1:30-2:30. One could say the Dickens Project was a good preparation for the rigorous language program!

Also received my last box, which had all my dictionaries and things from Kelly. Also got my luggage - turns out it was in the front office, and no one had told anyone else about its arrival... I was asking the wrong people! So, I now have belts (from the luggage), a bath towel (same), and Kelly's pillow! What more could a guy ask for on his birthday! I'm very happy with the goodies. No more boxes to wait on!

Also got a really sweet card from my mom wishing me a happy birthday - it was handed to me in the middle of a big lecture and everyone was super jealous hahahah.

I also got a cell phone yesterday! The number (with country code in parentheses) is: (033) 06 45 66 00 39. It costs a lot to call the US from the phone, so I'll probably just stick to local calls. On the other hand, all received calls and texts are FREE regardless of where they come from. So, feel free to drop me a line!!!

Am hurrying off to class right now... trying to think of what I'd like to do for my birthday!

Until Next time,
Ben

Delayed...

2008-08-31T09:47:00.000+02:00

08/27/08

Hey all,

Recovering from a looong time without internet access is tough. Like withdrawl, just without the help of detox hahahah.

Got very lost Tuesday morning looking for a bank, and stumbled upon a beautiful fountain at sunrise - am still trying to get the pictures up on the slideshow.

Until then, take a look at my photobucket album, "Bordeaux". http://photobucket.com/greenisgood85

Moved into my small dorm room at the Study Center on Tuesday afternoon, meeting many a jetlagged UC student. The Study Center is a ways away from the city, which is hard for me and my attachment to creature comforts (see above), but fortunately, it's not too isolated. The tram system here is great.

Will start a language program later this week, which will endure for two weeks following that. Once I've finished with that, I'll take the DEFLE (Department of French as a Foreign Language) on September 8th and begin my courses at the University on the 17th of September!!! Yay!

After the DEFLE, they'll place me at first, second or third level - this will determine the level of French courses I'll take. Let's hope I test into the highest, 3rd level!

Am still waiting to receive my boxes and lost luggage - will hopefully get them later today, but will go shopping for minimal provisions until then.

Bread and cheese sure is cheap out here.

Until next time,

Ben

08/28/08

Not having internet is taking its toll. I'm afraid to check my email for fear of getting a million worried emails asking where I've vanished to... The lack of internet access in Europe surprises me!

Yesterday I went to Leader Price, a grocery store about 5 minutes away, to get a towel. My lost luggage has yet to arrive from Dublin, and my bath towel is in there. All I could find, however, were mop rags :(. So, that's been my towel for the past two days - will rejoice when my luggage arrives!

Also ran out of clean clothes yesterday, which to a certain extent is also a result of my luggage being lost - I only packed about 3 changes of clothes, and completely ran out yesterday. Unfortunately, the washing machine situation isn't the best (didn't find out until I had tried getting it to work for a few hours), and ended up washing my clothes by hand. Gonna take a while to dry in my small window! Will be sure to do smaller loads next time.

All of which to say that I ended up attending a program-wide meeting with the director of EAP Bordeaux in pyjamas and sandals. And of course, she asked me to get up in front of the other 70 or so students to read something aloud. Not every day I get to stand up in front of 70-odd people in my pyjamas! Pretty funny.

Yesterday, I got two boxes I had shipped myself before leaving! Yay for clean clothes! hahaha. Now I can get dressed when I go out! Although, the belts lost along with my luggage would sure be nice...

My friends and I went out last night, because it was one of the girls' birthday. The restaurant we ended up in was a Franco-American restaurant, much to our dismay. Obama's face was everywhere, including on the menu, along with a huge vintage poster of John F Kennedy and Michael Jordan. The moment we walked in, they immediately started playing Katy Perry and Fergie. I requested Brassens, but alas, there was none to be had. :)

Afterwards we went to an enormous fountain - the same place I had gone at daybreak on Tuesday. Check out some pictures of the area here!

Will hopefully get internet access by next week - until then, it's internet cafes, I suppose. Just know that I'm well and safe, as postings will be rare!

Ben

PS: A quick note for those shipping boxes to me:

I made a mistake in the address - the study center is at building E, not D.

Ben Hair #314 (my room number)
Centre D'Etudes de L'Universite de Californie
Universite de Bordeaux III
Batiment E, Domaine Universitaire
33607, Pessac Cedex FRANCE

Also - be sure to write "NO COMMERCIAL VALUE" on whatever boxes you send. Apparently, not doing so can result in extra fees, along with searching at customs.

08/31/08 9:50am

Hey all,

Sorry I haven't posted in a while - internet access is hard to come by. Classes for the Language Program start tomorrow and will continue for two weeks before I move into my homestay and start enrolling in classes at Bordeaux University. Hopefully I placed high on the placement exam on Friday! Am currently reading "La Guerre de Troie n'aura pas lieu" by Jean Giradoux. I have also picked up some Camus and Anouilh and may get to them by the end of the week.

I'm still having trouble with the slideshow, and can't seem to get the photos to appear. If you'd like to see some pictures, check out the "Bordeaux" album on my photobucket page.

Until next time,
Ben

Monday!

2008-08-25T11:30:00.000+02:00

Hey all,

I got to bed last night relatively early – got home from the CyberCafe at around 10pm and conked out. Slept pretty well, despite being awakened in the wee hours of the morning by what sounded like drunk American girls being courted by drunk French men. I went back to sleep and woke up well-rested, thinking it was at least two in the afternoon by now. I had missed so much sleep the day(s) before that I didn’t think it possible to wake up before noon. Much to my surprise, however, it was only 9am! So, I shaved, took some photos and am heading out the door, hopefully to find a cell phone or get some cash.

Back to yesterday – my flights went well until the 6.5 hour (shorter than I had expected!) flight from Chicago to Dublin. I was snacking on dried fruit and eating airplane food the whole way, and became quite sick – uncomfortable and a little bit painful. I failed to find a remedy and ended up counting the minutes until my flight to Bordeaux. On the flight were some terribly spoiled little children I had ever seen, led by parents who had no control over them and no sense of consistency. It was painful to watch, and even more painful to hear – though I think I slept through part of that flight, it was easily the least fun out of all those preceding it. When we landed in Bordeaux, they had lost my luggage – fortunately (I suppose), the baggage official picked up on my horrible accent and insisted on speaking to me in English. By the time I got to the hotel, I was pretty upset, though I had met an interesting Swede on the bus ride from the airport to the city and the hotel owner had an adorable little boy. My hotel is kinda cute and close to town, which is nice – the pictures should be up on the slideshow, along with a short video tour.

The weather is pretty nice - sunny and about 75 degrees. I've been trying to save money, and thus haven't eaten any enormous meals just yet.

But here I go – off to start my day! Hope you’re all well and that I’ll be able to talk to you soon!!!

Ben

Here!

2008-08-24T21:37:00.000+02:00

Hey! Finally, I made it! The second leg of the trip (Dublin-Bordeaux) was a nightmare - ate something that really seriously disagreed with me and made the whole experience miserable, not to mention I didn't get any sleep. They also lost the luggage I checked and are currently looking for it (thinking it's probably in Dublin).

The woman I'm renting the room from for these two days has a really cute little boy and has made me feel very welcome. The buildings all around here are ancient! Will be sure to post some pictures next time, when I'm not about to fall asleep on my keyboard.

Hôtel Choiseul

2008-08-15T03:23:00.000+02:00

Hey all! I just booked a two-night stay at l'Hôtel Choiseul for the night of the 24th and 25th of this month.

Looks cozy! And cheap! Should be exciting - will be sure to post pictures as soon as I get there.

My flight leaves at 6am from OAK on August 23rd... it's coming up...

Until then,
Ben

Bienvenue!

2008-08-09T06:57:00.000+02:00

Welcome, one and all, to my travel blog!

Here I will post photos, videos and updates from my trip abroad!

Hopefully will update once a week.

Ben/Thibault/毛海东