Dear Grandma,
Check out my new photos. Some of Bruge, some of the metro, and more of France.
This last month has been strange for me. I'm still learning about the culture, and am always surprised by what can happen in a new country. For example, I haven't been able to attend classes for a month, because the student union is blocking the doors. There is a strike against a law that Sarchozy passed, a president as infamous as Bush, for similar reasons, called the LRU. Every Monday the student body on the campus votes on whether or not the strike should continue. I have voted against, mostly for selfish reasons. The law would make public universities autonomous. The benefits are more freedom with spending, the downside is that funding could easily be reduced, and public universities could become a thing of the past. Considering the disparity between US and France tuition, there's reason for them to worry. Most students could not afford to attend school at US prices. For example, about 40% of students have need based scholarships, and pay about 40€ a semester to go to school here. It's 400€ without a scholarship. Not that the government is breaking its back to accomplish this. It's the universities that suffer from lack of money, and the condition of the campus facilities, as I've tried hard not to complain about, are nearly dire. Private donations, which are now illegal, will become legal if the law is sustained. The reputation of the French as "proud," is mostly correct. Few students are willing to sacrifice their financial independence for a shinier library named after Colonal Sanders. I guess that's the difference between us and them.
This gets me to a point that I've wanted to talk about for awhile. Waiting. Waiting in France is a serious past time. The mass of students doing nothing right now, except waiting for school to start again. Granted, their are demonstrations that students are encouraged to attend, but for the average student, a sort of haze settles on a life style. It was in considering this haze that glossed over my daily lifestyle that I realized how logical it is that existentialism started in France. And as I said to my friend, why no one in America can understand it, amongst the hustle bustle of ten minute lunches and yoga class. It is something inspired by cigarettes, coffee, and long afternoons. The sun has started setting at 6 PM. What are we to do? Let's wait until tomorrow, we'll have fruit for breakfast, and make a spectacle of the sun. If it is cold, I think I'll stay inside, and maybe watch the wind blow through my window. A base instinct begins to dictate my actions, its not so hedonistic as I once said in my 11th grade essay. It's more the necessities of human existence, the modern kind, where there's seagulls eating bread on the roof, and an inevitable puddle in front of the mall. I'll save surrealism for another day.
I visited Bruge since the last post. It was my favorite European city so far. It is in Belgium, and it's called the Venice of the north. It was small enough to get around by myself, and it wasn't as crowded as Brussels or Amsterdam. I would describe the city as quaint. It's got a lot of famous churches, and displays inside the churches. I visited three, and say Michaelangelo's Mary, a bunch of old women sitting making lace, and the holy relic of Jesus' blood. My favorite thing in the world, windmills, lined the east canal. Giant, archaic, I should have been reminded of Don Quixote, but alas, I haven't head it. There was a small store like Surplus back in Iowa City, were I found a small lamp for my room, better than reasonably priced. I assumed at first it was a pawn shop, but everything was too cheap. I regretted not asking where the junk came from, but people in Belgium don't always speak French, they prefer English. Nonetheless, I tried not to betray my French disguise. I saw a draw bridge and a big yacht. I saw the sunset on the canals, and felt full of color. There was ice-skating in the square, and I bought some snail soup, and a crepe, so I could tell my dad I'm tasting cultural food. They were delicious!
My friend Karl asked about transportation. I tried to take terrific photos, because I think the metro has some terrific stations, but I was stopped nearly every time by a control-man/woman. They encouraged me to get a press pass, and I didn't feel like admitting I wasn't with the press. I can certainly explain system in my region. The buses mostly work within cities. They have a reputation for being late, and seldom arrive spontaneously to save you from walking. Like an untrained French poodle, it promenades through more detours than convenient. The metro, on the other hand, stops usually every five minutes. It is fast, and stops everywhere I want to go. Most spaces are standing, and it is sometimes crowded. I amuse myself by trying to stand suavely without holding the bars. The trains are also expedient, from what I hear. Two of my friends commute every day on the train, one and a half hours. The distances range from local, regional, to continental. The cost is fairly expensive. 1.50€ a ride, 300€ for nine months, and about 20% off for students.
As far as traveling southern France, as sweet Rachel plans, I don't have much advice, as I've never been there. I know it is known for its mountains--the Pyrenees, and the Mediterranean coast. If you like to ski, check out the resorts. I would visit the cities, Marseilles for sure. And the city/country(?) of Monoco has a reputation for being, sweet. Posh might be a more realistic word. It would be fun to waste 20€ in Monte Carlo casino. I imagine the king and queen live in a giant palace, so take some photos to show your grandma. Don't worry about anti-Americanism. Everyone is reasonable about stereotyping, and you'll receive the benefit of the doubt. There are conservatives here, too! Be prepared to be another tourist. To escape, rent a bike and ride into the country side. If you're as lucky as Danny Valentine, you'll find a vineyard and cheap lunch. If it's too cold, or you're out of shape, walk to the outskirts of the city, and you'll find shops that cater less to souvenirs-shoppers. Here's a site that should help you.
Stay warm.
Love,
Elias
