After a full day of getting things done— a little homework, a little cleaning, a little shopping—we all gathered together downstairs.  (We have a tendency to do that, us foreign students.  I always wondered why they clumped together at Hendrix, but now I understand completely.)  Anyway, in this giant clump, we made our way to the university around 7 for the animated film night at the university's cinema, Kino.  It was a double feature for 6 Euros.  I was slightly apprehensive about this film, after all, the last attempt at enjoying a movie in French remained just that: an attempt.  But the featured movies were Ratatouille and The Simpsons.  Both American films which means, at the very least, American humour.  As the French are very proud and therefore protective of their language (did you know that they have only had 9 editions of the official dictionary since 1836?) both films were dubbed.  Ratatouille went by just fine.  I had seen the film once before and it isn't a difficult plot to follow.  I got a good number of the jokes (I might even venture to say most) in The Simpsons.  That is, once I got over the hilarious voices used for dubbing.  And somehow, I don't think that Spider Cochon has the same ring too it as Spider Pig.  Although the German version is Spider Schwein and I think that one rolls off the tongue wonderfully.

As we were walking back from the Metro station in the ridiculously chilly weather (low 50s with a definite wind), I started to really think about what we had just seen.  

The film: Ratatouille.  

The scene: Paris, France.  

The stereotype: All French are beret wearing, wine drinking, passionate lovers who have a strange affinity for the striped shirt.  

The film: The Simpsons.  

The scene: One of the many Springfields.  

The stereotype: All Americans are rather stupid, rather fat, and rather ignorant to the problem of pollution.  

Yes, stereotypes are based in truth.  And it is true that we can laugh about it.  I sat next to Fabien, a français, and we continually exchanged nudges and snide remarks.  "I didn't realize that  all  the French wore berets… did you forget yours at home?"  "What, didn't you know that all of us are incredible lovers?"  "Do you own a trashcan or do you just use the river?"  It was funny.  But every now and then the majority of the theatre would laugh at the typical American thing that just happened, just as we would laugh at the typical French person on the screen.

I have yet to encounter someone who is really against America.  Hard feelings have managed to stay away for now.  But tonight, after the sighs that accompanied the scenes of oil drilling in Alaska where we might have inserted a laugh track, I wonder when I will have to defend my country as a decent one.  And I wonder how I will do it.

I am sitting in my room, listening to the French radio (which plays a surprising amount of English music—and not exactly our best music, I might add) and attempting to make supper. Today is mashed potatoes and meat. I'm guessing that you boil potatoes in order to make mashed potatoes. I've never done it before, but there are certain questions that you just feel stupid asking. One of these would be "How do you make mashed potatoes?"

My fridge is full and happy: a half-kilo of green beans, a kilo of apples, half kilo of potatoes, eggs, a bell pepper, an onion, garlic, apple juice, and some jellies. I'm buying my bread from a bakery that is on my way to class. Anyway, my meals have progressed from noodles and eggs to now include a wide variety of veggies and some meat as well. And then I go ahead and put Tony's, my beloved Cajun seasoning, on top of it all.

So far I haven't been too disappointed. However, I have a feeling that it's like when you go camping all of your food tastes good because it's what you have and you made it. Once my stipend kicks in things should get better.

Et alors, my first weekend in France? This weekend happened to coincide perfectly with les jours de Patrimoine, a pretty nifty holiday. No one could ever give me a straight answer as to what it celebrated, but we went ahead and celebrated anyway. Lena and I woke up early on Saturday to purchase our Cartes Viva. These cards will get us a lovely discount when it comes to buying a pass for the bus/metro. This will be necessary, as I noticed just how nice it will be to be able to go into Lille at any old point in time. We walked around the city for a bit, looking at wonderfully impressive buildings and then being told that for most of them it was necessary to have an appointment to go on a tour. Ah, well. The outsides were pretty anyway. This is the old stock exchange building, La Vielle Bourse.

It is located in the Grande Place:

In this same square surrounding the fountain, one can find one of the largest bookstores in Europe. I don't much care about the truth of this statement because after going there I am more than ready to spend an entire Sunday hanging out inside. This store has nine stories! (I passed up so many opportunities for a bad pun there. Vous avez de la chance) We really only looked at the 2nd story because we were in search of planners in an attempt to keep all of the dates straight. 

After this accomplishment, we made our way to the zoo, which in France happens to be free. We ate some good food which we did NOT cook for ourselves and then, utterly exhausted, we headed back to the residence for a bit. I took a nap just until we decided to go out to the fair that had installed itself in one of the parks of Lille. English was everywhere—but it was entertaining.

My favorite sign of the night:

I went up in the immense ferris wheel, as much as I hate them.  I wanted to see Lille at night from somewhere up high; however, the guy who ran the ride decided to spin us around, which meant that I spent most of my time holding on very, very tight.  Fireworks followed the fair. We ended up incredibly close to where they were being shot off and had a wonderful show.

Once the fireworks had brightened our night, we headed out in search of a pub of some sort. The door guy at one of the places told us that there was only enough room for 6 of us to sit and the other two would have to stand up. He was met with several blank looks from our group of foreign students to which he responded with miming and a grammar lesson. All from a door guy. How awesome is that?

The next morning was market morning. Wazemmes market is huge and I am almost certain that they have everything anyone could ever want. Almost. Further exploration is necessary to confirm this suspicion.


I came back from the market with fruits, veggies, and two plants.  One is a pepper plant that my old roommate named Pepito.  She is studying in Malaga, Spain for the year and decided that my life needed some Hispanic influence.

We decided to turn in early on Sunday as our intensive French class started this Monday. My name was accompanied by Tony's on the same list, which was a good surprise. My nationality was listed as Espangole, which was also a surprise. It turns out that I am the only American in my class. We've been doing a lot of oral practice, note-taking, paper-writing, and presentation-giving. Today, I discussed the affects of creating separate schools for the separate sexes, as well as schools such as this with an Italian, Romanian, German, and Czech. We then delved into a debate about women's rights in relation to a version of affirmative action. This sort of debate can get complicated when in a class made up of a handful of Germans, quite a few Romanians and Italians, a couple of Czechs, a Spaniard, an Australian, a Brit, and a Swede. Complicated, but intriguing as all get out.  Plus, we write on ridiculous paper that definitely has an excessive amount of lines. For a person who likes to write with no lines, this is taking some getting used to.

I'm working on registering for classes at the moment, which is a tad bit more complex than in the states. It looks like I'm going to be taking somewhere near 10 courses if all goes well. At the moment, I have to remind myself to calm down about everything. I went into the office of one of the coordinators with nine kinds of questions about courses and what I needed to be doing. She took one look at me, grabbed a cigarette, and said, "Come outside and sit with me while I smoke and calm down; we'll talk about this in a bit." The pacing of things is so different from what I am used to. I have about three weeks to figure out what classes I am taking and inform the University. These three weeks start when classes start. I just show up and decide if I like the course or not. Weird, huh?

I guess that's about it for now. My next project--besides not stressing over courses and finding something to do this weekend-- is to meet my neighbor. He plays the electric guitar and sometimes decides to share his musical talent with me through the wall. I think that it is only proper that we should meet face to face.

I've been settled in for about 5 days now and so far the thing that I am having the most difficulty with is the keyboard.  My room is on the third floor, which in French means the fourth floor. This combined with the walk to school gives me a wonderful excuse to eat all of these amazing breads...

This is my residence, Robespierre.

After unpacking, my room began to look like a room.

And this room happens to be overlooking the city, which is nice, considering that the other side looks out onto construction workers who happen to start work at seven each morning and have a tendency to sing.

The first morning, the isep students were to have breakfast with each other. Ben and I managed to understand this as someone would come and get us and bring us to wherever this breakfast was occurring. When no one shows by 10h 30, we decided that it was necessary to figure something out. Attempting to call did no good as the payphones in our residence only take cards… no change. So we start walking, looking for an internet café somewhere. Once there, I reread the email Isabelle had sent us and it turns out that we were supposed to have met at the university. Ben and I turn around and start walking to the Université. Keep in mind that we had never been here, and only recently got some form of directions from an internet map. It was a decent walk (35 minutes or so) that brought us to the back of the university. We try and find a way in only to end up in the "maison de recherche." We asked a nice looking lady, where we might find the office of exchange students. She started giving us directions, saying things like, "you know the Forum?" "No." "The maison d'étudiants?" "Actually, let us explain, we've never set foot here before…" The nice lady (who ended up being the director of doctorate research) walked to almost where we needed to be. Then we found Isabelle, who pretty much said that we didn't miss anything except a croissant and would we care to join the other Americans for lunch with a French student? As we had not eaten, this was a hearty yes. Turning the corner, Cyrielle's face greeted us. She was an exchange student at Hendrix last year and the first person here with whom I have "fait le bise," that kiss on each cheek thing the French do.

After that came the placement test with all of the international students (there are a TON!)and a presentation of how to do a number of things: register for classes, get a bank account, pay your rent, etc. Turns out that ISEP is my new best friend. The university has to provide us with certain benefits, so a lot of things are already taken care of. For example, someone is coming to provide us with a bank account. We have individual appointments with our own faculty advisor. All the international students have their own computer lab and there are all kinds of sponsored trips to London, Versailles, Paris, Bruxelles and Bruges. (I recently made a friend who's from Belgium and she told me that we could do the last two as personal tours when we visit her country.) I have already signed up for the Amsterdam and Versailles trip.

A quick view of Université Charles de Gaulle, Lille III

I haven't really spent much time at the university, as we have tended to wander around town. We found a wonderful place to buy kebabs-- much like gyros-- a drink, and fries. The owners really enjoyed making fun of us, so we talked to them and now we're buddies. And that's a lot of food to enjoy for 5€. My cooking has been another adventure in itself, but I'll save that for another time. As I was saying, with no classes, we've been doing a lot of walking in Lille. We stumbled upon important buildings, such as the hôtel de ville (city hall) that happens to be the tower I can see from my window.  Most of this walking has been done with a new group of friends.  There's Ben who is from Kansas City, MO and also goes to Hendrix.  Then Lena from Belgium. She grew up for a bit in the Congo and Dutch is really her native tongue, but she's equally good in French, therefore pretty handy to have around.  And I can't forget Antonio-- Tony-- originally Italian, but has been living in Germany for at least ten years or so. His French is good, as is his Italian, German, and English. A really fun guy all around.

Lena and I are going to go into the city again early tomorrow to apply for our métro cards and all as well as to explore. Tomorrow is the day of European Patromoine which means that just about everything will be open for free. I foresee lots of running around in important state buildings, museums, probably a picnic and maybe a run on a giant ferris wheel that is here for the fair. Then Sunday morning is the Wazemmes market, and we definitely want to check that out.  A full day, as Lena said. Classes don't start till Monday and those are just our intensive French classes. Actual class doesn't start till the 24. We figure we might as well take advantage of the free time.

Hello there!  I figure that a brief introduction is necessary, so: I'm Rachel DeCuir, a redheaded junior who hails from Cajun Country, Louisiana.  I don't like chocolate candy, especially if it has peanut butter or mint mixed in, however, I do like putting lemon juice in my ketchup.  Puns, and other forms of clever word play, make me happy on the inside.  Languages and traveling are kind of my thing.  It's handy that they go together.  Oh yeah, and as of Monday, I am officially in Lille, France for the next 10 months. 

I've known for quite some time that I've wanted to study abroad.  When touring colleges, that was one of my main questions, "so, I can go abroad, right?" quickly followed by a "how much do we have to pay?," courtesy of the parents.  A series of circumstances led me to Hendrix where, under the International Student Exchange Program (ISEP), I can go study at all these cool places by paying my Hendrix tuition.  There are some extra expenses, details like a plane flight and other traveling fees, but the program in general made my parents happy, which made it much easier for me to convince them that I wanted to go.

I just picked a random university of France.  Université de Charles de Gaulle, Lille III.  It's up in the northern part of France, pretty close to Belgium.  After having a nice guy pick Ben Molini (another Hendrix student) and me up from the train station, I've had a little bit of time to get settled in. We wandered around the suburb of Lille where our residence is, bought some food, got a little lost, and practiced our French in asking for directions. 

I'm already completely moved into my dorm room; it's a lot easier when you've only two suitcases of stuff to unload.  It's a singe with a view, and I'm, enjoying it.  I have finally gotten internet in my room, as of yesterday, and so I can start posting.  On that note, welcome!