7.2.2007
Today makes me 19 ½. Even though I didn’t eat any cake, it was a good day. This afternoon, I tried talking to my parents via Skype once again. However, this time, it actually worked! I have a little camera which I connected to my computer, so they could actually see me, too. At one time, we even had a conference call going with the Sabow household! It was rather incredible: dad was sitting on the patio at home; Aunt Andrea and Uncle David were drinking their morning coffee; I was sitting in a building built hundreds of years ago in Avignon; and it sounded like we were just next door! It was especially exciting for me because I got to talk to my cousin David who is back from Cali for the week. He, Heather, Sam-bo, and Aisling are driving to MN tomorrow to spend the 4th at the Lake. Last night, Aisling watched fireworks with Kari. I’m not going to lie; I was a bit jealous. I hope they have fireworks on Bastille Day.
Before returning to the apartment, I stopped by the tourism office and picked up a program for the “Festival Off.” With the “Festival In,” (the more prestigious and “official” festival), I will have between 600 and 700 plays PER DAY to choose from! The city is painted with colorful publicity posters pasted down every street, on every fence, and even onto the ground. It makes for a bizarre scene when mixed with the stone buildings and medieval architecture. I paged through the 250-page program a bit this evening, and there were just too many to choose from! Do I go to the ones that I have seen or read in English? Do I go to the ones that I have heard of before? Or do I take a chance and see some random French creation? Looks like I’ll be seeing a lot of theatre in the next three weeks...
7.3.2007
I had class this morning, nothing remarkable. After my lunch—which I made from fresh ingredients that I picked up at the market this morning, including some amazing multi-grain, organic bread—I worked with two other girls on the history project we have to present on Thursday. We are talking about American stereotypes of the French, their significance, origin, and validity. For our presentation, we are integrating some clips from the movie Talladega Nights, so it should be somewhat funny. I’m talking about the stereotypes associated with French cuisine. For example: the French eat lots of baguettes (vrai); the French are all drunks (faux—they produce between 6.7 and 8 billion bottles of wine a year, so why not drink a few?); the French eat smelly cheeses (vrai/faux—they have over 400 types of cheese, some more potent than others…); the French eat frogs legs (faux—this on menus in the US more frequently than in France); the French are proud of their gastronomic customs (vrai—fresh ingredients, tasty recipes, sitting down and enjoying meals, need I say more?).
I talked to my parents again on Skype this afternoon. It was pretty cool because now they have a camera on their end, so I got to see the whole dam-fam, including the dogs! I’m happy to be able to say that everyone looks good. Then I went out to café with a friend and had a refreshing appertif. For dinner tonight, Françoise made “tabbouleh,” except that it was really couscous with lemon juice, olive oil, tomates, puréed zucchini, and red peppers—no bulgar, mint, or parsley to speak of. Nonetheless, it was tasty. Instead of hitting the books this evening, I lounged out in front of the télé and watched Greys. Now it’s off to bed because I’m bloody tired.
7.4.2007
Do the French have a Fourth of July? Of course they do. They just don’t celebrate. Unless you are an American in France, that is…
Today was my easy day of classes. In the afternoon I joined a few other girls to go get some ice cream in celebration of our “holiday.” We went all-out and ordered decadent, yet delicious sundaes. Mine had pistachio ice cream in it, and to my great surprise, it was actually quite scrumptious! I could not imagine why anyone would want to make anything pistachio-flavored, but I must say I can see more pistachio ice cream in my future.
After spoiling my appetite, I returned chez Françoise and had dinner. No Hawaiian-roasted boar or Uncle Frank’s buffalo, but I still ended up eating more than I should have. What is it about holidays and eating too much? While working on my theatre presentation, I got a SSM (a text message) from one of the students wondering if I wanted to go out and celebrate this evening. It was nearly 9:30, but I thought about what dad had told me earlier in the day about “getting my head out from my books,” and decided to go. We met up at the pub—a little weird celebrating the American national holiday at an Irish pub in France—but we had fun. I didn’t have too much fun, however, as I still had to walk back to the apartment, and I prefer to have my wits about me while walking at night. Fortunately all the streets I take are well lit, and I made it back safe-and-sound. Yes, ‘twas a memorable 4th of July, indeed; fireworks are over-rated.
7.5.2007
This morning we gave our presentation on French stereotypes in History class. It went pretty well. We did a PowerPoint on my computer, and the professor seemed to enjoy the film clips. In between classes I stopped by the Tourism Office and bought a loyalty pass for the “Festival Off” that will give me a discount of at least 30% when I see a show. I went through the mammoth program again this afternoon and marked down all the ones I am interested in seeing—way more than I’ll be able to see, but at least I have options. I’m afraid my “souvenirs” will be seeing these plays. Oh, well, I’d rather do that than come home with more stuff. I hate stuff.
I have been getting some responses from the journal entries I have posted recently, and for the most part people seem to be enjoying it. While it does take a decent chunk of time out of my Sundays to type the week’s entries, I will try and keep it up. It’s a good way for me to reflect on what I’ve done and, at the same time, not have to write a dozen of the same emails or make pricy phone calls on a regular basis. Please keep the comments coming! I love to hear your responses and find out who is reading this. Peace and love to you all. ; )
7.6.2007
The Festival du Théâtre commenced today, and the town is wild with people. While walking down the street, reading in the park, and sitting at a café, I was bombarded with people handing out post-cards, flyers, and bookmarks advertising the several hundred “Off” productions. Company members took to the streets in full costume trying to spark interest with publicity stunts: music, ditties, dancing, acrobatics, even some furry cave-men covered in mud. It felt like Disney World minus the long lines and roller coasters!
For lunch, I met three girls at the Crêperie next to the Institute where I had an apple crêpe with honey, cinnamon, and crème fraiche. Then Jessie, a NYC native and French and Theatre major at Swathmore University, and I ran off to catch my first show of the festival: Le Malade Imaginaire by Molière. It was a crazy-over-the-top production—an eccentric mélange of multi-media video, rock-opera/techno music, circus stunts (the Invalid’s wife and brother were on stilts), modern dance, beautifully elaborate costumes, exaggerated masks, and Molière’s signature satire. The main set piece was a giant bead that was shifted and tilted at different heights and angles throughout the play. I was even more impressed when the curtain call came around and I realized that all the characters in the show were portrayed by a mere five actors! I had no idea! I did struggle a bit with the language comprehension, but it helped that I have read the play in English and was, thus, familiar with the storyline. The ultra-dramatic acting helped too.
In the evening, there was a significant parade down the Rue de la République, the main drag in Avignon, to kick off the Festival. The actors marched down the street, publicizing their events and handing out cards. And for some reason, which I’m still not clear on, there were about 100 horses in the parade. Not horses that were saddled or harnessed, but just a huge herd of horses tromping through the streets of Avignon! It was quite a sight, let me tell you! It reminded me of the bull runs in Spain, except not quite so extreme. I don’t think anyone was hurt, fortunately, but I saw some close calls. It must have been a logistical nightmare getting them to and from the city.
After dinner, I met up with some girls at a restaurant where we were going to have some drinks. When I arrived, they had already ordered their wine and were panicking because apparently you can’t just order wine. They ordered some dessert, but when the server delivered it to the table, she said to eat it quickly, pay and leave. This was one of those situations where if we had spoken French more fluently, there wouldn’t have been a problem. However, because the woman was busy, she took advantage of the poor girls and made them very upset. I tried to get them to take it as “a grain of salt” and enjoy their desserts and wine, which was actually pretty darn good, but I think my efforts were worthless. I looked at it as a difference between the capitalist and socialist systems, but they didn’t quite see it like that. After that snafu, they went to hang out at one of their houses, but I was feeling antsy. Instead, I walked around town for a bit. I ended up wandering in to an art gallery and chatting it up with the artists for a bit. It was cool to talk to them, even though they picked out my American accent right away. Earlier in the evening someone asked me for directions in French, though, so I guess I look the part; it’s when I open my mouth that I have issues. Zut alors!
7.7.2007
Triple sevens! No wonder today was such a great day! This morning I went to the village of Carpentras—known for its strawberries, truffles (the fungi, that is), and candy—with 8 other students to meet and eat lunch with the Franco-American Alliance of the town. It is an association created by and comprised of mainly French people, in their sixties and beyond, who want to show appreciation for what the Americans did for the French during and after the Second World War. For example, one man was the son of an American GI who arrived on June 6, 1944, and a Belgian woman. It wasn’t until he was 48, however, that he come to the US and got to meet his father for the first time. Another man, Michael, with whom I became fast friends, was born to an Italian father and French mother in 1940. (His dad was the only Italian fighting on the side of the French during WWII.) When the Americans arrived in 1944, it was the first time he had ever seen his parents smile.
Anyway, this French-American association invited us to spend the day with them in celebration of our national holiday. In the morning, we took the bus to Carpentras where a Scottish chap picked us up and took us for a drive through the country. We eventually stopped and took a nice, long “promenade” through the hills. Even though I was in a dress and flip-flops, I thoroughly enjoyed the hike. The country, as I’ve said before, reminds me very much of the Black Hills. Some of the other girls were not so accustomed to hiking in flip-flops (or the physical exercise, sadly) and had a less pleasant time. After working up an appetite, we met the rest of the association at a restaurant for lunch. There were maybe 25 people, and for the most part, everyone was very nice. The man I sat next to was Michael, the Italian Frenchman. He was very grandfatherly and had a good sense of humor. He taught me some French drinking songs and was full of stories and jokes. I felt very much at home.
In the afternoon, we went for yet another drive. We visited Le Mont Ventoux from which we had an excellent view of the surrounding landscapes, including the Alps. I can’t say I’ve ever been to Switzerland, but I’ve seen it! We then drove to another village where I finally got to see (and smell) the beautiful lavender fields that Provence is so often associated with. It was nearly 9 pm by the time I returned to Françoise’s, but fortunately, she had eaten without me.
Yes, the day had been lovely, and I was “very well contented.” J I had tentative plans to see La Mégère un peu près apprivoisée (The Shrew, Now a Little More Tame) with anther girl at 10:30, but I couldn’t reach her. I was pretty tired, but I figured, “Hey, I’m in France, and I only get to live once,” so I went to the show by myself. And, oh, am I glad I did! It was a delightfully charming musical adaptation of Billy Shake’s Taming of the Shrew, full of energy and laughs. (Okay, that sounds like I copied it off of the publicity poster, but I really liked it.) The actor playing Petruccio was worth the 11 euros right there! Coincidentally, he was also the writer and director of the show. After the show, I bought a CD and kind of wanted to hang around in hopes that I could talk to the cast, but then I realized it was quite late and I was horribly tired. Instead, I walked home while humming and tapping my toes. I love musicals. They always put me in such a great mood!
7.8.2007
Mass this morning was jam-packed. No, it wasn’t some holy day of obligation that I had forgotten about; there are simply a lot of people in town now for the festival. Afterwards I lit a candle and said some prayers for Uncle David who will be having a 10-hour surgery on Tuesday morning. Please, God, please let everything go well. After mass, I walked around town a bit, taking some more pictures of the city and the people, as dad had requested. I had a chilled cream of pepper soup for lunch, which—let me tell you—tastes much better than it sounds! This afternoon, I saw a show called Macadam Tap. It wasn’t a “real” play, but more of a rhythmic musical revue, much like STOMP. However, the acts were completely original and creative, performed by four middle-aged women. For example, for one soft-shoe number, they used toasted bread crumbs instead of sand. It was targeted more towards a younger audience, but I enjoyed it, nonetheless. When it was over, I went to a café and intended to drink my wine while reading the next play we are studying and writing some postcards. I didn’t get much done, however, as I kept getting interrupted by actors advertising their productions. I don’t mind, though, because it gives me a chance to listen to and talk to people in French.
*NOTE* Dad requested I put up a link to the Theatre Festival, so here they are:
Festival In: http://www.festival-avignon.com/
Festival Off: http://www.avignon-off.org/site/index.html
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