everything in france is an acronym, so this must be one too…

LWI(IB) – life without internet (in bed)

day one

day one of LWI(IB) included numerous trips to internet stores in desperate hope of instant internet. i left defeated. even once i have a bank account (which won’t be until next wednesday), it could take up to three weeks to get internet installed. why you might ask? as the shop clerk put it “with strikes, and holidays, and weekends, and everyone else who wants it, it’s just like that.” in a word, france.

next, it was time to finally get a cell phone, and while the temptation to sign a 2 year contract and get a fancy phone with unlimited internet on a tiny screen was terribly strong, i opted for the cheapy pay as you go deal with a phone that weighs less than my pinky. rumor has it you can break cell phone contracts here if you have proof you’re leaving the country (i.e. you’re an american and the government is about to kick you out because they don’t want you here unless they are under paying you to occasionally teach english, but mostly fill out paper work), however i was so indecisive as to just how much cell time i needed that i went sans abonnement. this way i will be punished instantly if i decided to make a stupidly expensive call to the states in a fleating moment of missing m. or drunkness (or more likely both at once). better using all my credit up on one call and being cut off than getting a 100 euro deduction from my bank account for going over the limit without knowing it.

eventually i made it to school after a 30 minute bus ride and, after waiting at school for 40 minutes, i did a 20 minute introduction. during 40 minutes of waiting i theoretically could have used the internet in the teachers lounge, but i forgot the password for my login at home. so close to internet, and yet so so far away. to say the least, i have since memorized my password.

finally, after another 30 minute bus ride to the town center i caved and went to mcdonalds to use their free wifi.  i ordered fries and a coke out of guilt for freeloading. i messaged with m., looked for a car, and then ran home in the rain, fearing all the while doom to my laptop. i’ll never have internet without a computer. hallelujah the laptop remained dry and i poured  myself a campari and graperfuit juice for dinner. i proceeded to make a perfectly detailed lesson plan for my first classes and then took melatonin to get tired. that’s when i started writing this…

there was no warning on the melatonin label about not writing while under the influence, but i think perhaps there should be… i do however believe there is a warning against combining it with bitter italian alcoholic aperitifs. oops… had i had internet this may not have happened (but probably would have).

day two

today was a much longer day at school, and as being such i had time enough to finish my first weeks lesson plan, check my email, and unsuccessfully attempt to log onto facebook. it would appear that site is blocked from the schools server. after some brief introductions in classes, i discovered that most the students here haven’t a clue as to what they’re doing, how to speak english, or what i’m saying. it’s going to be a joyous year…

i did however get one step closer to internet today, and that was meeting with the landlords where i’m living to sign papers, and while doing so i got the name of the last person who had a phone line here. strange as it is, in france you need to give the name of the last tenant who had a phone line in order to get internet. why they don’t just set up a system with all of the info there for them i do not know, but such is france… so, that means that hopefully (fingers crossed) once i get a bank account i can just as easily get set up for internet. well, just as easily meaning within their three weekend time frame of someone finally being bothered to come around.

i also was so fortunate  enough to have a bike given to me on loan for my time here. it will come in very handy until it gets to be 0 degrees celsius. then i will freeze, give up, and take the bus. oh, and when its raining? the half an hour bus ride isn’t so bad after all.

after all this, i met up with the other assistants in town (yes, all six of us), and drank some beer at the local “cool” spot. there is only one in town, and it has a belgian theme. cool? i’m not sure if i’d go that far, but they do have good beer. it was a good distraction to my LWI(IB) problem, and an even better reminder that i’m not totally alone on this french mount top.

day three and four

not having internet seems to have several consequences, one being that i am at least moderately more productive in some ways, and the other is that i still manage to find excuses to lay in bed with my laptop, though rather than googling random facts or checking my email every hour, i am editing pictures i took of chaumont.

it’s 10 :42 am on sunday, and i was engaged in aforementioned editing, when i began to hear a peculiar sound: chanting. it then occured to me, oh that’s right, i live above a church and it’s sunday! wow. seeing as that this is a protestant church in a catholic country, i wasn’t entirely certain as to what aspects of church life i’d encounter living here, but apparently they do have sunday rituals just as in catholic churches. my church going experience is limited, but i’m imagining them all swaying together as they sing whatever sort of french praise they sing to their savior. when it’s all over they’ll all share a little meal in the name of god, exchange pleasantaries, and leave feeling refreshed in their faith, unaware that it was community involvement that gave them sanctuary, not man made religion. yes, that’s me, judging religious people. so even if i’m wrong about the later, i am certain about the former; they shall share food. i know this because i was invited, and while i’m opting to spend the day in bed with my laptop fantasizing about gmail and wikipedia, i certainly will go some sunday. plus they said i don’t have to come for the services i can just come down for the food. what more can i ask for than some free french god food? hallelujah!  (that’s what they said! no, really, they just did)

so moving backwards from this sunday morning to yesterday, day three of LWI(IB). saturday was quite a productive day for me. it all started when i managed to sleep in until 10:30, the latest i’ve slept since i’ve been in france (save the day in paris i slept until 1:30, but that’s another story). i woke up and stared at the white walls of my room for quite awhile while i tried to figure out what to do with myself. i proceeded to make coffee and sit in the kitchen and stare at the white walls in there (they really need decorating by the way). i decided to take a bath at this point, during which i sat in warm water and stared at the wall some more, however rather than white these walls were more of a peach color.

but in all seriousness, aside from some good staring in the morning, i really was productive. i managed to open a bank account at the wrong bank. somehow i didn’t realize i was in caisse d’epargne rather than banque populaire until half way through the process of getting an account. it wasn’t until he told me the monthly fee of 8 euros that i realized i wasn’t where i thought i was. how i can walk into a bank, speak with a teller, go into a private office, sign papers, and look at signs that clearly say “caisse d’epargne” without ever realizing i am not at banque populaire is indeed beyond me. rather than embarrass myself and say i wasn’t at the bank i’d intended, i went ahead with my account, deposited 100 euros, and left. i’ll probably go back and close it and open an account with banque populaire since it’s only 9 euros for my entire time in france rather than 8 a month (hence i guess why it’s popular). but for now, since it is in the prettiest building in chaumont, i will just pretend that i like getting charged 8 euros a month to have the pretty bank.

after my bank flop, i was quite excited despite my mistake because i  finally had this wonderful thing called a RIB. while i already have quite a few ribs actually, this one is even  more special, and potentially more valuable, because this RIB allows me to not only get paid every month, but also to get one step closer to internet ! or so i thought… i started at bouygues, who will hopefully one day be my internet provider, but then was sent to france telecom because i apparently have to get a phone line before i can get internet. however, seeing as that france closes for two hours during lunch, i was forced to occupy myself otherwise during this time. which i did by eating cheese, bread, tomatoes and sardines for lunch. then bought a dictionary and a water filter. finally it was two  pm and i could go to france telecom and open a horrendously expensive phone line (55 euros to open it). it should have a dial tone thursday or friday, at which point i can go back to bouygues and make an appointment for them to give me internet. after all that, it will take between 7 and 21 days for me to actually have internet, as at any moment france go could on strike  and the country could shut down and revert to the dark ages. however, despite being told i needed a RIB to get a phone line to get internet to my cure LWI(IB) problem, they never asked for one. my bank fiasco was in vain, but i think i really would give a rib to have internet…

moving on with my day of relative successes and accomplishments, i decided since i was in the mode of taking care of administrative details, i may as well get a library card. this was certainly the simplest of procedures i’ve been through, and i even managed to not have to pay the 16 euro fee to open it by showing them proof that i’m teaching at a local high school. i’m now allowed to take out as many as 30 books, dvds, and  cd’s for three weeks. the library is quite large for such a small town, and because chaumont has an international poster design festival every may, they have a large section of graphic design books which is neat. however, i opted with two movies, a book on wine, a novel, and some sort of interactive wine program for computers that i have yet to explore. all in french, with the exception of one film in english because sometimes french just gets old… oh, and get this, the library had instructions on how to use their computers for the internet for up to 45 minutes, but i never managed to get it to work…

after the library i took a few pictures of chaumont until it started to rain, then i went home and ate copious amounts of raclette cheese and bread until it was time for my saturday night soiree. you see, i was invited to a little get together by a wonderful chaumontaise, because her and her friends were having a night in honor of the late patrick swayze and their dirty dancing obsession. it consisted of junk food, freakish shrines with candles and photos of mr. swayze, wine, beer, punch, you tube videos of mr. swayze and dirty dancing, and of course, dirty dancing itself in all its dubbed-in-french glory. i have to admit i have always liked that film, but i’m not particularly fond of it dubbed. and while my french is ok, it can still be hard to follow films without subtitles, especially when their lips dont match their words, they speak a million miles an hour, and i’ve had three glasses of wine. however, the night itself was a riot and i learned that there are cool thirty something french ladies who are quite rambunctious, play dress up, and dance around all silly. and that they even exist in a town as small as chaumont!

and that pretty much brings up to the present moment. all the other assistants went for a day trip to troyes, but i opted to save the euros and stay in chaumont. a 100 dollar day trip wasn’t on my list of priorities, given all the expenses of settling into a new apartment/country/getting internet.

Today I went on an a Parisian excursion. It was to the suburbs. I went to the flea market in Montreuil set on seeing nifty thrift items as my France guide book told me I’d see. It said it was filled with people selling vintage and second hands clothes.  I’m not sure if the last time they visited was in 1995 when flea markets still sold vintage items, but all I really saw was cheap stuff. I don’t just mean it was cost effective cheap, I mean it was cheap as in probably having been freshly lifted from a Chinese delivery truck and promptly delivered to and sold in France. I’ve never been a fan of Walmart, or even of necessarily buying things new, so I certainly wasn’t interested in buying Walmart clothing knockoffs for 5 euros.

The flea market is apparently also the place to buy black market cigarettes, as every 5 minutes a guy opened a sack full of discount brand name cigarettes in front of me. This is a phenomenon I’d heard of the last time I lived in France, and having been a smoker at that time I was almost tempted to seek out said cigarettes  (especially given that the cost of cigarettes lingers around $10 a pack here), but now I am just annoyed. “You don’t smoke miss, I’m sorry for you!” they would say to me in French when I said “Non merci” to their offer.

But the most striking thing about the flea market in Montreuil was the trash. It was everywhere. It was like they had the flea market the day before and everything they didn’t sell they threw on the street. That – combined with the “carrefour” sky scraper looming above the whole scene, the insane amount traffic trying to traverse the round-about, and the honking of angry drivers – brought back an acute memory of Vietnam. Visiting Saigon (or HCMC if you will) to be exact. I guess the carrefour building – carrefour means crossroads in french – was fitting. I’m all for eliminating the stereotype of Paris being the most glamorous city in the world, but I didn’t expect to find out the Parisian suburbs, or at least these ones, are akin to a developing country. Except instead of chicken feet roasting on makeshift barbecues on the side walk it was corn stalks roasting over charcoal. And they didn’t just put the barbecue on the sidewalk like they do in Vietnam, they put them on the sidewalk with a tiny charcoal grill – one that looks like a mini oil drum – inside of a shopping cart. Bonus points for a grill inside of a shopping cart. I’m sure the corn is delicious, but the sight of literally hundreds of freshly munched corn cobs cluttering the gutter along with used shoes, empty cigarette packs, and spit really didn’t make me feel too hungry.

After a few minutes meandering the flea market I took the metro to the Champs-Elysées – the “glamorous” (cough tourist crap) shopping street of Paris – which is unsurprisingly the very opposite of Montreuil. I think I saw some of the same stuff for 8 times the price. But at least there weren’t corn cobs in the gutters.

To say the least  I didn’t buy anything today.

goodbye portland, mike, family, kitties, paco, sam, alisa, friends, sel gris, stumptown, burritos, bagels, english, family style dinners, backyard chickens, homemade pickles, homegrown vegetables, american wine, salsa, pacific time, indie music, portland hipsters, pbr, dollar bills, microbrews, thrift stores, bicycles, indian summer, home…

hello france, baguettes, cheese, wine, french food, new friends, speaking french, teaching, confusion, little coffees, outdoor markets, dog poo on side walks, colder weather, darker skies, figuring out all the details, filling out a lot of paper work, fast trains, school bells, beautiful architecture, famous art, french gardens, black coats, museums…