Re: Culture Shock

In France

My first thought was "Wow, there are so many foreigners here!" In Korea, pretty much anyone who wasn't Korean was considered a "foreigner." It was weird to be able to understand so much of the drunk yelling in the streets. It was midnight, so it was about the time that the drunk were trickling out the bars. Not so different than Korea, except it was about 1 am.

My first problem was meeting with my friend Kyle at an apartment we had rented for the weekend. Neither of us had phones, so I hoped my sense of direction would lead me to the right place. My friend Gasp picked me up from the airport and dropped me off at the apartment, so at least I knew I was at the right building. Not much I could really do now to mess things up. I entered the building and went straight for the elevator. Unfortunately, the elevator was about as narrow as an After 8 mint and as long as a scone, so squeezed my massive suitcase in, throwing my carry-on bag on top, and stuffed myself in with my life. I was to go to the fifth floor and go to the apartment on the left. I rang the doorbell, excitedly waiting for Kyle, he never responded. It was 1 am, so I was hoping he was waiting up for me. I heard footsteps in the apartment, but no one opened the door. Whoever was behind the door just looked in the peep hole and walked away.

Hmm. . .

Long story shorter. . . I was on the wrong floor. I forgot that if someone says 5th floor, this means 6th floor. In the states, what we consider the 1st floor is actually the rez-de-chaussee, and then the floor above that is the 1st floor. So in reality, I was actually on the fourth floor being a creep, ringing on the doorbell of a stranger at 1am in a "special" part of Paris. Upon realizing this, I relocated to the floor above and finally settled into the apartment.

In Korea, I picked up many mannerisms. Things that seemed different at first are now a part of my everyday routine. These things are also very different for western cultures. I have found myself bowing at strangers. In Korea I bowed when I entered an establishment, when I exited, when I met someone, when someone did something nice (as a gesture of thanks), and the list goes on. I did a lot of bowing- we'll just leave it at that. Now this is a hard habit to break! I have found myself bowing on so many different occasions, but it's akward here.

"Merci!" bow. leave. Yup, I'm awkward.

Next thing I still do is hand money to people with two hands or with my left hand under my wrist. This was a sign of respect in Korea. In France, they have special containers on the counter to place your money. At the train station, the lady yelled at me for not placing my money there rather than handing her the money. I was so confused why she was so upset.

The first step to breaking these habits is realization. I am more aware of how weird I have been, so I quickly stop myself now when I bow or when I hand money over to people.

Another cultural problem for me is my wardrobe. France is notorious for their chic fashion. Blacks, grays, neutrals flood the streets. In this river of people, one person can be spotted and thats me. Korea allowed me to find so many unique clothes in such an aray of colors. my teal tights, rainbow sorbet scarf, and pretty much everything else I have packed in my suitcase don't really go with the whole "French" fashion. I sacrificed my platinum blonde hair, but I will not get rid of my clothes. This is fine, I will still continue to wear tutus, tights in all colors, and everything else I got from Korea.

Three little birds

Merci Japan Airlines for my two day holiday in Tokyo!

I dreaded my flight to France. In fact, I almost missed my flight to France, because I had to mail a few last minute things that wouldn't fit in my suitcase. If I had missed my flight that first had an over-night layover in Tokyo, that would have been ok. If only I could read the future.

I had arrived in the Narita airport and checked into my hotel. I was so excited, because I got to meet up with Hiro, a friend from university who was from Japan. He met me at the hotel and we went to an izakaya (Japanese style drinking place) and had many glasses of saké. My flight was to depart at 10h30. This probably wasn't the greatest idea, but I couldn't resist the moment.

The next morning was almost painful. The cheerful sun was doing nothing for my mood. My head hurt, my eyes were burning, and I had lost my sunglasses on a previous flight. Despite being extra "delicate" this day, I jumped out of bed and made my way to the airport. Hiro came with me to the airport and we bypassed the massive line. AirFRANCE. . . I figured I was able to just check in with the computers since my luggage had been already checked through to CDG.

FAIL. When Hiro asked the an AirFRANCE attendant where I was supposed to check in, I couldn't understand a word of what they were saying, but I could tell it wasn't good by the looks on their faces.

". . . strike. . ."

The giant line was for me. I went to the end, but I was still optimistic. The only word I decided to hear from Hiro's explanation was "strike." Of course AirFRANCE would go on strike! And of course this would happen to my plane. The people were in line for meal tickets. I wasn't particularly hungry, so I passed up the line of hundreds of people and went upstairs for a coffee. I had to wait in the airport to hear the news of what to do next. In this time, I realized that AirFRANCE wasn't on strike but that birds had striked the engine.

Crisis Averted?

After waiting for about 4+ hours, we were informed that we would not depart until the following morning for safety reasons.

Back to the hotel
I was so impatient, because I just wanted to stop traveling already. France seemed so far away. Then Hiro explained to me that this was sort a serendipity. True, although I was stuck in Tokyo, I was stuck in TOKYO! I actually meant to visit Japan, but I just never had the time, so it really was a blessing in disguise. Hiro took me to the city on his motorcycle. I finally had authentic sushi, found mustard yellow tights (I have been looking everywhere for these), and bought a gift for one of the English teachers from my school. It turned out to be a great day afterall! Tokyo was very impressive. It was so clean! My only complaint is how expensive taxis were there. . . actually how expensive EVERYTHING was there.

The next day, I left at 5 pm for Paris without any other problems. Finally!

ma voiture est en panne

My car is broken... I have had it for about two weeks and I am already having problems. This is not a problem that I can blame on a bad car dealer. It is my fault. Last night, I drove home from Walmart and I heard a scrapping sound and thought nothing of it thinking that it was a just something that I drove over and the front of my car just scrapped over it. I went outside to go to work and found a giant puddle of oil surrounding my car. I had to go to work, so I drove to the gas station and filled my car up with two quarts of oil to get me to work.
On my lunch break, I went to my car to get something out and found 8 dollars worth of oil puddled around my car. NO!!!! If it isn't problems with transcripts or people jumping in front of my train it is something with my new car. Each week, there is a new stressor. This week it is my car. I went back inside work and informed my manager that I needed to leave and take care of my car problem, but I can't take care of my car today since it is Sunday and every auto mechanic is off, so I have to wait until tomorrow for my brand new car to get towed to a mechanic and looked at by the claims guy from Geico. I can only hope that they will cover it and I will only have to pay the $250 deductible while my car is fixed. I spoke to my friend Miranda's husband (who works for State Farm Insurance) and he said the damage may cost over $1000!!!!!
I am still waiting for my burst of good luck. I know my problems sound so petty, but it is frustrating that I have some sort of major issue that hinders me from doing my day to day activities smoothly. I feel like I am constantly stressing out about something. I know stress can be good, but I think this is true only in small doses. It can't be a good thing if I am always having a problem. My life is like a game and each week I have to figure out how to solve my problem. so this is my rant.
Other than that my transition back to the states hasn't been too bad. I miss Grenoble. Last week, I had a few problems with my transcripts, but I got it all worked out.

Running, Running, GONE

01/10/08
I always wanted to be that person who runs through the airport. I used to imagine where they had to be in such a rush-business trip? honeymoon? It always seemed so exciting and I yearned for their adrenaline rush.
Yesterday was my moment in the spotlight, but I wasn't as successful as my role models and I failed miserably. As fate has it, I am not in Missouri. I had three flights, three layovers, a train ride, customs, security, and a four hour drive home, so there was plenty of room for error. My first flight was through AirFrance from Geneva to Paris. This is where my troubles began. In an attempt to save time, I had the gentleman at the check-in counter check my luggage through my whole trip (my Geneva trip wasn't in my original itinerary and was added towards the end through AirFrance in order to get me to the airport in Paris on time).
On my plane to Paris, I had an epiphany. It hit me that my luggage ticket was marked YYZ (the code for the Toronto airport) when it should have also had STL. Ok. Don't stress. At the check in counter in Paris, I was asked if I spoke English or French. English. Then the cheeky guy replied, "Well I speak French." Ok? Since I have a hard time speaking even in English, I cheated. I explained my problem and he looked at me with a blank stare and said "Ok..." When I asked if there was anything I could do he told me no. I was concerned about the time and he assured me that I would be fine.
I was still concerned when I was on the plane, so I befriended a flight attendant who also told me that I should have enough time to get on my plane. He told me where I needed to go and in which order. I was flipping through the airline magazine and found a map of the Toronto airport, so I memorized my route. I was prepared to run like the wind when I got off the plane.
We landed at 2:30 pm and by the time I got through Canadian customs, it was 2:50. I waited for my luggage to arrive and at about 3:00, my two blue suitcases came passing around on the belt. I piled them up and ran to the exit. I went through another checkpoint where I had to show them my passport again and then the lady informed me that I needed to go through US customs. ah! I had one hour until my flight departed. When I got upstairs, I was running with all of my luggage and I had plenty of strange looks. I was second in line waiting to check my luggage in and a lady went around asking people when their flights were departing. I told her I had 40 minutes and she looked at my ticket and told me "Oh no, you aren't getting on that flight. It has already left. You are too late." I told her "No, I had 40 minutes and it wasn't my fault." I explained the situation and prayed over and over in my head that I could get home that same day.
I was tired and sick and the thought of missing my flight and not getting home made me upset. I started to cry. Then the lady who was rebooking me asked for assistance "because she couldn't deal with this." She handed me a new itinerary and telephone number to call for hotels and sent me on my way. I tried to rebook another flight but it would cost me over $1000, so I sucked it up. I have finally made it back in Missouri after over 40 hours of travel. I am exhausted and the jet lag is killing me.

Leaving Grenoble and Lost in Translation

Date: 28 Decembre 2007

My two overstuffed suitcases were packed and I stared at them hoping that they would magically teleport down the stairs to the accueil (the reception) of my residence hall. Determined and ready to go, I grabbed one and made my way down the hallway. It was morning, so the cleaning ladies were busy at work. My favorite cleaning lady came running to the stairwell when she heard my suitcase being thrown against the wall. She leaned over the rail and asked "Tu as des amies?" ("Do I have some friends") "Non," I replied as I carried on. The words "C'est dommage pour toi" (basically this means:sucks to be me). I did have friends at one point, but they were gone. Miya had offered to help me when I knocked at her door at 9 am to give her the remainder of things that would not fit, but I knew she only offered her service to me to be polite, and I did not want to bother her. Besides, I could handle this on my own. Eventually I made it to the accueil (and she is my favorite cleaning lady because she helped me by watching over my luggage while I went to my room to get the others) and I turned in my keys.
The hardest part was not over yet. I still had to get through a bus and a tram to get to the train station with two large suitcases, a backpack, a purse, and a camera bag. I had plenty of time and I had selected a direct train to Geneva, so I wouldn't have to change and deal with moving my luggage around. When I got to the train station, I was relieved to see an elevator. This made my day...well for about five minutes. When I reached the bottom, I probably looked like a sad puppy when I realized that an elevator did not exist for my platform. The only way to get back up where I needed was to take two flights of stairs. People were rushing past me and I continued to drag my suitcases up the stairs. Finally, a gentleman helped me with one of my suitcases. He was very helpful. When we reached the top, he asked where I was going and he informed me that since I will be going to Geneva I would need to sit in the back part of the train (because the train was going to two different places and would eventually split away). He was also going to Geneva so when the train finally arrived, he helped me carry my suitcases onto the train. I sat near the door in the foyer (I don't know if this word really is used properly, but it is the best I could think of to describe the set up) of the train to ensure that I could exit quickly, in order to avoid upsetting anyone for the length of time it would take me to get off. In the foyer I sat at on a bench that seats about 4 people and it faces another bench. My new friend who was helping me, Dris (pronounced like Greece with a D), sat next to me. At this point I was exhausted, having only about four hours of sleep the night before, so I put my headphones on and drifted away.
I was awoken when I heard the conductor make an announcement and the only words I heard were "personne, accident, arretons (stop)." Someone committed suicide in front of my train! So, they could just clean up the mess and my train could move along right? Things had to get complicated because I am in France so no, this meant that we had to stay on the train for 45 minutes and then wait outside for a bus. During my 45 minute wait, I listened to the girl in front of me tell us in great detail how when she was 17 years old she actually saw someone commit suicide in front of the train. She started to tell us how is head was swollen up like a balloon and it was that moment that I had wished that I could not understand French and I tried to turn my self off but I couldn't stop listening.
When the bus showed up, people fought for places to put their luggage in the lower compartment and I felt like I was on the Titanic how everyone pushed their ways to get on the bus. Not a single place remained for me, so I had to get my suitcases out from the bottom and wait for the next bus. Dris helped me out and sat next to me on the thirty minute bus ride to the next train station in Chambery and I tried to avoid eye contact so I didn't have to have any awkward/forced conversations.
In Chambery, Dris and I had about 3 minutes to run to the catch our train to Geneva. When we got on the train we discovered that the train was practically full, so we decided to treat ourselves to first class.
I was now forced to talk to Dris for about an hour and a half. I found my terrible listening comprehension/attention span getting me into trouble. I had to make up lies to cover up my weakness. Dris asked me if I had ever had to go to the train station in Geneva in order to transfer to Lausanne and I said no (this is a huge lie) for reasons I don't remember-I do know that I misunderstood him. He later offered his service to help me navigate around the train station since it is pretty tricky. When he asked how many times I had been to Lausanne, I lied so make it sound more believable about me never going to through the Geneva train station and said it was my 2nd time and the first time I went through Paris. I couldn't believe how the lies just floated out of my mouth.
About thirty minutes before we arrived to Geneva, Dris offered me his business card with his email address and cell phone number. He wanted to practice his English, so he said he would write to me in French (which he never mentioned that he was learning English nor that he has studied it before) and I could reply in English. Harmless. We passed beautiful scenery and I gazed out the window on the other aisle. I noticed in the reflection that he was watching me. Awkward. Then he excitedly asked me what color my eyes were. I said green, as it was quite obvious and then he commented about how beautiful they were. ok?
Suddenly our train stopped and I probably had stress written all over my face, because this guy was starting to turn creepy and I had had enough of train drama. Dris probably could sense my panic, so he grabbed my hand assuring me that everything was fine and that we were in Switzerland now and nothing bad happens on the trains. eeek. I quickly removed my hand from his and I could feel it burning where his had had once been. About five minutes had passed and we began to move again. thank God! Then Dris grabbed my hand again making me promise that I would go out to dinner with him if I came to Geneva. yea yea sure fine whatever. I wanted off of the train at this point.
We arrived in Geneva, and Dris gave me a tour of the train station and helped me once again load my luggage on the train and then gave me three bisous on my cheeks and said "À bientôt." However I knew that that would be the last time I would ever see him again. Lesson learned: you can't trust everyone even if they seem to have good intentions

Have a Holly Jolly

Voila... so Christmas has passed (well not quite yet in the US), but for me, it is done. Things went just as I predicted and I had a very special Christmas. Yesterday, I took a train to Lyon to spend Christmas with Adrien's family. Christmas eve was spent at Adrien's grandmother's very cute vielle (old) house. As Adrien's mother prepared a late delicious dinner, I watched Adrien struggle to open the can of foie gras (the liver of a duck who has been force fed) to pass the time.
During dinner, we sat around the table drinking champagne and I tried to listen, picking up random words per sentence. Then Adrien's mother began to quiz me on my French vocabulary by pointing at different body parts. When we got to the eye (singular), I completely forgot, turning to Adrien to think. The word was at the tip of my tongue, therefore out of frustration, I blurted out "Putain! (bad word, could mean a few things, but in the context it probably meant the S*** word or the F*** word)" Oops... The room was silent and all eyes were on me... and then the laughter commenced. Adrien thought it was the funniest thing ever "because it came out so naturally," but I was mortified. What a first impression I must have made on his grandmother.
Then, Adrien's sister asked me to pass the champagne. The champagne was sitting behind me on a shelf next to the lamp. I turned around, grabbed the bottle, but rejoined the conversation, not paying attention, and nearly pulled the lamp down with the bottle. Later on, I was helping with the dishes, when Adrien's sister asked me to ask where the bowls belong.
"...les valises viennent d'où?" I demanded.
"mon cherie, ils ne sont pas les valises" (my dear, those are not the valises), Adrien's mom replied.
oops... I had just realized that I asked where the suitcases came from instead of dishes.
I had reason though, to say dishes in French, one would say "les vaisselles."
I went to bed, but I certainly did not have "visions of sugarplums dancing in my head." Christmas morning, I could not recall my dream, but I am certain that it was about World War II with Nazis and I am pretty sure that Klaus Barbie made an appearance. I then asked Adrien if his grandmother's house had anything to do with the war, but he said not really, just a bomb in the garden and he told me that a few areas were trenches. Interesting that I had this dream because Klaus Barbie was known as the butcher of Lyon for killing off and torturing thousands of people.
After we opened presents, we parted for Adrien's aunt's house. Conversation was hard for me, so once again, I found myself day dreaming often. Apparently it was quite apparent that I could hardly comprehend what was going on, because Adrien's cousin's boyfriend told me that it was fun watching my face when I didn't understand what was going on. Then Adrien's other cousin tried to have a conversation with me while I was daydreaming, so I did not respond. It was difficult to understand what was going on when you have 10 very excited people speaking at once all in a different language (which I am not fluent in). Adrien's aunt encouraged the others to speak slowly so I could understand, but this would last for just a moment, and the speed would quickly pick up gaining momentum. I have a hard time listening to people speak in English, let alone in French. The same, I enjoyed myself.
After dinner and after watching a video of his cousin (who I discovered was on the French version of American Idol), we left for the train station. This would not be a normal travel experience with me if something bad didn't happen, so of course, the second we entered the train station, we noticed a large group of people staring at the screen. Delays everywhere... all trains, except for mine. My train was cancelled. The trains were delayed, because someone assaulted the SNCF conductor (only in France would the entire chain of trains stop for that). I had to wait in the train station for an extra hour until the next and last train went to Grenoble arrived. This isn't a bad wait, except for the tiny fact that it is freezing in the train station. I was so cold, I could not feel my toes. I finally got on the train, but of course, I would have to sit in the only car that did not have heat. I sat curled up in the fetal position for about 30 minutes (but it felt like hours) freezing, layering everything that I had in my suitcase on me. Fortunately, Adrien's sister got me gloves (since I lose mine often) and his mother got me a scarf, so I was semi-good to go. I just needed socks. Finally the girl who was sitting in front of me had the bright idea to check the other cars for heat. She came back with great news and we moved. I was almost unthawed by the time we arrived in Grenoble, so I was disappointed that I was going to have to wait in line for a taxi. Since it was Christmas, there was about 2 taxis per hour (not true, but they didn't come often) After 45 minutes waiting in the below freezing temperature, a taxi arrived and I finally made it home.

Below are some pictures from Christmas


Adrien with the foie gras


Christmas eve table


Emilie and me


Adrien's grandmother and mother


Sleepy time


supprimer=cancelled


this meant nothing to me... it was the reason why we were never going home on christmas... so tired of the excuses, just work


waiting

So Incredibly Awkward

I love awkward moments. Actually I love to say that I love awkward moments- but in all actuality, I am picky about which ones I like. Today I had one of the awkward moments where you grind your teeth back and forth as you ask your self "Why?" a million times. In order for this story to make a bit of sense, I will take you back to last night. My friend Yiran invited me over to her building for a Chinese dinner with some other students in my class! I was soo excited to have real Chinese food plus it was no pressure French-meaning, I could speak French without worrying, because we all have problems. Of course I was wrong. Yiran invited all the neighbors as well-well not all, but three French guys. Bluahkda.... Ok, sort of excited now because the four B1.1 students speak broken French, so its all good, surely they understand. Then when the guy who fixed Yiran's computer network came in, I had an awkward bisous... For anyone reading this a bisous is what the French call their cheek kisses... I remember it was more of an air bisous, rather than the tap on the cheek with my cheek bisous... our cheeks didn't touch and I made an incomplete bisous as I could hardly reach the guy over the table. It was more awkward than I can describe, trust me... and I knew it was pretty awkward when everyone started to giggle. Laughing translates the same through any language. Well, after our dinner, we went to François's room for some cidre and chocolat and enjoyed eachother's company until midnight.
Since I have been studying for finals, I have been a wreck and sooo tired, so when I heard a knock on my door, I assumed it was Nodin (it was a strong Nodin knock and he has been coming to my room off and on today). I was wrong again. It was François. How he found my room, I cannot say. I just remember last night that I guestimated which window was mine. Ok, first, I was caught off guard, second-my room is a mess!!!! Earlier today, I thought I lost my debit card so I threw everything around in my room trying to find it...needless to say it was in my purse the whole time. So back to the story, I quickly jumped outside my door, so François could not see my science experiment of a room. Then, he was talking to me in French. My brain is barely functioning in English right now let alone French. One would think after living here for 5 months, I could carry on a conversation fairly well. This case is not true unless. So every sentence that came out of his mouth was more like "dlkajfoidmak fatigue"....I would get maybe one or two words out of each thought. haha wow! I was soo embarrassed. Then, we parted ways with awkward bisous.