A Sense of Belonging

Anyone who says "I don't care about fitting in" is not being completely honest. I'm not trying to say that everyone is a conformist and individuality is dead; our differences make us interesting and unique. The fact of the matter, though, is that being too different would defy sociology, psychology and biology. As humans, we actually do want to be like everyone else to a certain extent. Even people who actively work to be different from the mainstream society are part of a group: they create their own subculture in which they bond over how different they are from the rest of the world while being exactly like one another. Where you fit is not important, as long as you fit somewhere.

At every major stage in my life, I have had specific structures in place to help me integrate into the existing culture: There was always an orientation or a welcome event or some sort of formal introduction to the group. As a new member, I was always warmly welcomed and inevitably, someone took my under their wing to show me the ropes. Or, in times when I arrived with a large group of people who were equally new, we started the group culture from scratch on our own. Working together to form this new group united us quickly and easily. I guess it helps that I am pretty outgoing and sociable, but I have never had to try very hard to make friends.

Until now.

There was no orientation for me at school. When I showed up, the class had already been together for several months and even though I was told I could start my classes at any time, I immediately got the impression that I was behind. I barely got out "I'm Nicole and I'm from America," before we were already on to the day's lesson. No get to know you activities, no "welcome to Bordeaux", no nothing.

Even though my residence put on a small "pot d'accueil," it was clear that I was the only foreign student in the whole place. I met a few nice people, including two people that both speak pretty decent English, but I haven't seen them since. I don't really see anyone ever around here, actually...

It certainly hasn't been easy trying to break into French culture (or Chinese culture, for that matter) but I think this past weekend was a big step in feeling like I actually belong here.

Saturday started with a trip back to the Capucins market. Hunter and I had some shopping to do for the dinner we were planning to make that evening. I thought it was just going to be the two of us but he rolled up with Louis and Hongli, too. The more the merrier! We even went over to the Asian market down the street to get some special items for the meal. Oh yes.

Capucins market is filled with little stands like this. 

After shopping, we walked by the Église St. Michel, on our way to a kebab place. We got sandwiches to go and took them over to the quai for a little picnic lunch. It had been so rainy and cold the last couple of days, so we planned to take full advantage of the beautiful weather. There are very few things that make me quite as happy as sunny days and hanging out with friends next to a body of water. We finished our lunch and took our time making it back to Hunter's place, stopping to play in the water of the miroir and wishing some newlyweds felicitations as they took pictures.

Église St. Michel (Not Ste. Catherine or St. Pierre as the guys thought. No one wins the bet!)

Bridge at the Porte de Bourgogne

Friends! Hunter, Hongli, and Louis

The Miroir

Hunter, Hongli and Louis all live on the top floor of this beautiful old building downtown. While I don't think I could ever go back to sharing a bathroom or kitchen with random people, it's still a pretty cool place. We had some time to kill before it was time to start making dinner so I taught Hunter and Hongli to play rummy while Louis went off to study. It took a minute for all the rules to sink in, but once they did, we had a quite a little game going. I love watching a new skill click with someone. Teaching is in my soul...

Around 5pm, it was time to start cooking. All I knew was that we were having kung pao chicken. I was not expecting the epic Asian feast Hunter was planning. We made spring rolls from scratch, seasoned eggplant and beef, some kind of carrot and potato dish, pork with bell peppers and mushrooms, and spicy tofu. I was wondering how four of us were supposed to eat all this food when Hunter informed me that we were having more guests: Hao Cheng from class and his girlfriend Xuen Xuen were coming and so was another French guy named Brian. (Yes, a French guy named Brian. Go figure.)

Noms!

I made those spring rolls!

No one's room was big enough for all of us we we dragged the tables into the hall and made ourselves a dining room. Brian brought some beers and Hao Cheng brought two bottles of wine to accompany the meal. After eating until we wanted to die (and still having tons of left overs) we sat around and played a couple funny French drinking games. We laughed and joked and we all spoke a ton of French. It was starting to get late and Hao Cheng was driving so we decided to take a little walk on the quai to get some air.

It's lovely in the daytime but seeing the quai for the first time at night was truly breathtaking. It was still fairly warm outside and the sky was clear. We watched the seagulls in the river below bobbing along happily in the current and flying back upstream for another ride. I showed off my astronomy skills by pointing out a few constellations and explaining how to tell the difference between stars and planets in the night sky. (When did I learn this stuff? I couldn't remember...) We ran and skipped and sang and took in the beautiful evening.

At 1:30am, had to bid my friends adieu and I hopped on the train to go home, smiling the whole ride back. I couldn't have drawn up a more perfect day for myself if I tried. Shopping at a farmer's market, having lunch by the river, playing cards, having a couple drinks and a great meal with people from around the globe... It doesn't get any more ideal, if you ask me. We may not be your typical group of friends that you would see hanging out around Bordeaux but somehow, it works. And I'm in it.

I fit.

FAQs (About France, Not Me) Part 1

Whenever I talk to someone back home, they always have a million questions about what life in France is really like. This is my first attempt at answering those questions. I think it will be very interesting to see how my responses might change when I've been here a bit longer...

"How's the weather?"

Since Bordeaux is pretty close to the Atlantic coast, the weather is quite mild. In fact, it's not really that different from the weather in Baltimore right now: Cold and rainy. It seems to rain in short bursts here and then it will be sunny for a moment, tricking you into believing you can leave the umbrella at the house. Don't be fooled. It will rain some more later. I am told it doesn't usually get cold enough for snow, and if it does, the snow doesn't stick around for very long. This is a shame in my opinion, but I guess I can just hop over to the Pyrenees or the Alps if I need a fix.

"How's the food?"

I'll tell you when I actually eat some! It's hard being a single girl in France with broke friends because you never have the chance to go out and get real authentic French cuisine. Some people like going to restaurants alone but I'm not a fan of it myself. What I do know is that many restaurants here do prix fixe menus, both for lunch and dinner. I have peeked at a couple places and it seems pretty pricey to go out for a nice meal (15€ for lunch, 35€ for dinner) but from what I've heard, it's worth it. 

I am obviously not starving to death, though: I have become a regular at the local supermarket. Jason and I got in the habit or "shopping the perimeter" at the grocery store (all the perishable items are on the outside since there is such a high turnover of products) and I do the same here. The produce is very fresh and most of it is local, which keeps costs way down. 5kg bag of potatoes for 99¢? Yes I will! Four big tomatoes for 64¢? Of course! 43¢ for a loaf of French bread? Don't mind if I do! Pretty sure that potato leek soup I made cost like than 25¢ per serving. What?!?!??

And the dairy products... First of all, milk comes in opaque plastic bottles and you don't have to refrigerate it until after opening. They have all types of puddings and yogurts, including a whole section just for different varieties of plain yogurt. I have already described the endless amounts of cheese that you can purchase and there are more types of butter than I even knew existed: partial salt, full salt, sweet, semi-sweet, high fat, low fat, medium fat... The list goes on. I usually get overwhelmed and just pick the store brand, conveniently labeled "le moins chére" (the least expensive).

Pastries! There are so many pastries! All sorts of sweet, buttery breads, stuffed or sprinkled or glazed with the most delicious things you can imagine. I'm a sucker for the standard "pain au chocolat": Basically a rectangular chocolate filled croissant. If you get the fancy kind, they have a light glaze on top that makes me cry tears of joy.

As an aside, I have been really tearing it up in the kitchen lately. That's usually Jason's territory but I guess we have been making meals together long enough that I actually know some stuff about cooking now. Some recent culinary feats include: honey balsamic glazed salmon with broccoli and rice, steamed vegetables and chicken with homemade beurre blanc sauce, mushroom/spinach/goat's cheese omelette with home fries and, my favorite so far, accidental jambalaya. I made Mexican last night and had tons of leftover rice and beans. (Cooking for one is nearly impossible!) I don't have a microwave so I have to reheat everything on the stovetop, which is kind of annoying when you hate washing dishes. I had already planned on making something with this sausage I had purchased when I suddenly realized I was splash of chicken broth away from making a tasty bayou-inspired lunch. Epic.

"How are the French people?"

Maybe people were just trying to prepare me for the worst with horror stories about how rude the French are, but I have had extremely positive experiences with them so far. If I'm running to catch the tram, someone always holds the door for me. If I catch someone's eye while walking down the street, 8 times out of 10 the person will actually speak to me instead of being suddenly fascinated with the color of their own shoelaces. Dudes let Ashely bum (multiple!) cigarettes off them, even after she tells them about her boyfriend. I feel like everyone I have encountered has been genuinely interested in helping me or at least getting me to someone who could. When I tell people I'm from the United States, they don't automatically turn their noses up and walk away from me. In fact, most people think it's pretty neat that I chose to come to France and they think it's fun to try out the corny phrases they learned in high school English class. Is this true of everyone in the country? Certainly not. I'm sure there are some people that downright hate Americans. Luckily, I haven't met them yet. I think the French think about us about as much as we think about them, which isn't really that often, and we both have positive and negative things to say about each other. Thus is the way of the world.

"What's the biggest difference between the Baltimore and Bordeaux?"

Umm... that they speak French here and not English? I think a lot of the reason I am assimilating so quickly is because living here is not really that much different from living in Baltimore. It's definitely cleaner here. I remember that being hard to get used to when I lived in Baltimore, especially coming from the eco-friendly capital of the universe that is Ithaca, NY. And the public transportation is actually something that people choose to use, rather than are forced to use so it's less filled with people who hate their lives. Bordeaux is more diverse than I thought it would be. Certainly not to the degree of Baltimore, but there are lots of different shades of brown people here. I guess it's kinda weird that you can drink anywhere. When it's party time, people are drinking on the train, in the street, on the way to bar... The rest of time, you might see it, too, but people aren't getting shitfaced on the tram in the middle of the day JUST BECAUSE THEY CAN. You could, certainly, but why would you want to? And it's mostly young people, since this is pretty much a college town. You don't see old dudes knocking back 40s in the park at 2pm.

I know it was sometimes inconvenient to find a liquor store that was open on Sunday, but here, it's hard to find anything that's open on Sunday. As the rugby song says, Sunday is the Lord's day, so I suppose everyone is busy doing holy things, but it's weird that even the mall is closed on Sunday.

"What's the biggest difference between the US and France?"

People are less apologetic here. I feel like Americans are so quick to say "Sorry!!!" for everything: I'm sorry my coat brushed you knee. I'm sorry I dropped my bookmark in front of you. I'm sorry for making contact with you on the crowded bus. Unless you really slam into somebody, don't expect so much as a pardon. You live in a place where lots of other people live. It is expected that you will make physical contact with someone else. This is not worthy of regret. Save your sorries for when you're actually sorry. I think this corroborates the "French People are Rude" stereotype but I don't mind it. It makes me think of the opening monologue from the movie Crash...

I also find the French to be very straightforward. Again, this may come off as abrasive, pushy, or mean, but I find it rather refreshing. I appreciate that people aren't going to dance around, trying to be perfectly PC all the time, and instead say what they really think. Is it always going to be something I want to hear? Probably not, but I'd rather you say whatever you have to say so that we know where we both stand. And if I really don't like what you have to say, then I don't have to pretend to like you. We're not going to agree and that's okay!

French bureaucracy is every bit as obnoxious as they say it is. Just to rent an apartment, you have to have a French "guarantor" to basically co-sign on your lease in case you default on your payments. This might not be so hard for a citizen who knows plenty of French people, but it makes it extremely difficult for a foreigner trying to find independent housing for a year or two. Every transaction requires three receipts and a million signatures and all kinds of proof that you're sure you know what you're doing. Just to get in the country, Jason has to get his birth certificate translated by a member of the American Translator's Association, at a hefty price, of course. And there are so many different offices that deal with so many different things and none of them can contact any of the other offices so if you're in the wrong place, too bad, try again in three weeks. Thankfully, I haven't had too much experience with it yet but I have applied for government housing aid and a residence permit so I am sure I'm about to get wrapped in paperwork with a nice red tape ribbon on my head.

Overall, this place has been pretty good to me so far. Maybe my mind will change in a few months when all I want is a DAMN BAGUETTE I THOUGHT THIS WAS FRANCE some Sunday down the road but I'll keep you posted.

New Beginnings

Greetings from Bordeaux! Yes, here I am. One of those Americans who moves abroad and starts a blog about the trials and tribulations of being an expat. I know it's a bit silly and super cliché but hear me out. I have several motivations for writing about my experiences: Firstly, I spent a long time preparing for this epic journey by reading blogs from other Americans who quit their normal lives for something more European and I can only hope that I may be of such service to someone else in the same position someday. Secondly, I am here by myself for at least another two months so I need something to pass the time when I am not involved in baguette-eating or wine-drinking (which is a surprisingly significant amount of time at the moment, especially for those of you who know of my love for all things bread and booze).  Finally, and probably least flattering, it is out of sheer laziness that I am chronicling my adventures so that I just don't have to repeat myself every time someone asks me what I'm up to these days. "Yes, I am living in Bordeaux now. Yes, they really do eat a ton of cheese. No, I haven't seen a lot of armpit hair but it is November so maybe it's just lurking beneath all the sweaters and scarves." Instead I can simply reply, "Things are great! You should check out my blog!" and I don't come off as the girl who is constantly bragging about her fancy new life in fancy-ass France. I'm already annoyed just thinking about me.

Bragging online is 100% acceptable, though, through the pseudo-anonymity of Internet, and I will forewarn you that it may occur from time to time.

So let's get right to it, shall we? Here's a quick recap of my life for those of you who, like me, are suckers for context and back-story.

I'm Nicole. I grew up in a small town outside of Rochester, NY with my parents and two brothers. When I was 16, I got my first taste of international travel through a four-week summer program at the Universidad de Salamanca in Spain. I learned more Spanish is four weeks than I had in four years of studying at my school back home and my life was forever changed. After high school, I majored in Spanish Teaching at Ithaca College, spent the spring semester of my junior year in Seville, Spain and graduated in 2007. Because of my perceived aptitude for teaching and for lack of a better option, I applied to the Teach For America program and was accepted to teach in Baltimore starting in the fall of 2007. I spent five of the most [insert any adjective here: frustrating? beautiful? terrifying? inspirational?] years of my life working at a public high school in the heart of Baltimore City, teaching Spanish to juniors who often struggled to locate Spain on a map and seniors who would profess "But I do my work!" upon receipt of a failing progress report, in spite the fact they had not completed a single assignment to date. (For the record, I love my students with all of my soul and being. The problem here is not my kids. It is a system that allows, dare I say encourages students to perform at the lowest level possible so that no one, teachers, parents, students, and administrators, don't have to work that hard. But that's another story for another day...)

While living in Baltimore, I met Jason, also known as the love of my life, and we have been together for almost three years. About a year ago, Jason mentioned that he was nearing the end of his PhD in biomedical engineering at Hopkins and he started investigating next steps. When a post-doc research position in Bordeaux came up, we decided it was too good an opportunity to pass up and began making plans to move. After a long summer or researching ways to get me into the country for a year or two, and an even longer fall of paper work and trips to the French consulte, I was granted a student visa and was scheduled to begin my studies of the French language in November.

And so here I am. Just another expat, living life, now with 100% more French!

Next time: The logistics of moving to France