I created this blog on a whim last September, but now I've decided to put it to good use. With my junior year abroad fast approaching, I've decided to chronicle my experiences preparing for the trip and in Paris. Hopefully, this will serve three purposes: updating those of you back home who are curious, keeping a sort of mixed media journal for me, and maybe providing some insight for future exchange students.
The title of this blog, Artifices de Feu, means "fireworks" (also called "feu d'artifice") in French. It's a term I learned on my last trip to Paris. Shortly after Bastille Day (like Independence Day here, fireworks are big) I was trying to make small talk with the girl cutting my hair at a salon. I tried to ask her if she had watched the fireworks display over the Eiffel Tower, but without knowing the word, all I could do was repeat "lumiere dans le ciel...nuit..." (light in the sky...night...) and do jazz hands, attempting to mimic the twinkling lights. I didn't realize how spastic I was acting until she looked up and raised her eyebrows and gave a barely perceptible Parisian sniff. Je suis gauche. Anyway, eventually I got through and learned a new word. The story reminds me that I'm going to look goofy sometimes, and to try to maintain some dignity, but even if the stylist gives me a funny look, things will probably turn out all right in the end. I came out of that salon looking better and knowing more French. (Small victories).
Fireworks disappear so quickly. One ignites, explodes and then fades so quickly. This year will be over too soon. I need to remember that and make every day wonderful.
Last time I studied away from home, I forgot to do that. I was lazy and let myself get miserable once the weather turned cold. This time, I'll be prepared. I am dedicating my trip to finding beautiful things - people, food, artwork, ideas, writing, places, history. I will record my findings here, as well as my run-ins with French bureaucracy, awkward moments, etc. I'm lucky enough to be setting off on this trip with some beautiful people already in my life. Since they will almost certainly feature in this blog, here is the cast of characters as it stands before departure:
NoodleTzar - Me :)
Le Chef - a friend from university who's also going to Paris. A master of vegetarian cooking. Check out his blog here http://spicesavant.blogspot.com/
Le Jumeau - one of my oldest and dearest friends; a sensitive Southern boy who'll be in Montpellier while I'm in Paris.
Le Corps - A great bunch of kids from university are going to be in Paris. Can't wait to get to know them better!
Momma - Cheerleader & nagger extraordinaire. Number 1 in the speed dial of my heart.
The Professor - Momma's husband, wise and thrifty.
Hélène - stepsister, wild child, unflinchingly authentic.
Grandmère - My role model. A lady in every sense of the word, with an adventurous heart.
Ze'ev - The one I am going to miss the most.
Mademoiselle Em - My scholarly saint. My authority on all things Medieval, Subjunctive, French Literature, and Christian.
L'Exploratrice - The world traveler, my inspiration to kick my insecurities to the curb, put on some awesome shoes, and just go.
Le Frère - Le Jumeau's twin, also one of my nearest and dearest, an authority on the history of New Orleans and always knows how to boost my spirits.
La Libellule - My roommate. Perhaps the truest citizen of the world I know. (Et le Copain de la Libellule m'aide avec mon français)
Monday, June 28, 2010
CampusFrance: Welcome to Bureaucracy
Before she left for Germany to be an au pair, my stepsister, Hélène, encountered a German woman on the streetcar. Hélène, who only spoke a little bit of German, must've expressed some concern about being able to communicate during her trip because the nice Berliner said to her, "Don't vorry. If you make ein mistake, de German vill politely correct you... Not like de French -- Dey don't vant you to know!"
While the statement may be based on an unfair stereotype, it sure struck a cord with me and my co-exchangers and good friends, Le Jumeau and Le Chef, as we were filling out the CampusFrance form. Why? Let me count the ways:
First there's the website. I get it, we're going to France, we should have a working knowledge of the language. Fair enough. I even started the application form in the French version, but when that became a bit iffy (and I really like to be sure what I'm answering on government forms) I switched the language setting to English. Apparently, the French Embassy's webmaster speaks about as much English as I speak French because all the hard words were still en français. Awesome. The website had a few other quirks. Both my inbox and my outbox on the site's email page - you communicate with them 100% on their terms; there is literally no phone number for CampusFrance - were labeled "list of received messages," the options for the type of education you have received are ludicrous.
Overall, the layout was kind of confusing and the expectations were extremely unclear. The user guide helped a lot: http://usa.campusfrance.org/en/1.html
With the help of Le Chef, who's very precocious, as well as my university's study abroad office, I discovered that I only needed to report my social studies grades and did not need to attach the "proof" the website demands when filling out the 3 part (each with 3 steps) "Education" section. But after doing this, clicking through the point of no return, and sending in my $70, I have a little box that says "Education à completer." This ambiguous phrase is rather terrifying when accompanied by the warning that if any part of your CampusFrance application is incomplete, well, no visa for you! Yikes!
Le Chef had the same message, and he is now the proud owner of a visa, so we'll see what happens when Le Jumeau and I get to the consulate. Yay roadtrip!
While the statement may be based on an unfair stereotype, it sure struck a cord with me and my co-exchangers and good friends, Le Jumeau and Le Chef, as we were filling out the CampusFrance form. Why? Let me count the ways:
First there's the website. I get it, we're going to France, we should have a working knowledge of the language. Fair enough. I even started the application form in the French version, but when that became a bit iffy (and I really like to be sure what I'm answering on government forms) I switched the language setting to English. Apparently, the French Embassy's webmaster speaks about as much English as I speak French because all the hard words were still en français. Awesome. The website had a few other quirks. Both my inbox and my outbox on the site's email page - you communicate with them 100% on their terms; there is literally no phone number for CampusFrance - were labeled "list of received messages," the options for the type of education you have received are ludicrous.
Overall, the layout was kind of confusing and the expectations were extremely unclear. The user guide helped a lot: http://usa.campusfrance.org/en/1.html
With the help of Le Chef, who's very precocious, as well as my university's study abroad office, I discovered that I only needed to report my social studies grades and did not need to attach the "proof" the website demands when filling out the 3 part (each with 3 steps) "Education" section. But after doing this, clicking through the point of no return, and sending in my $70, I have a little box that says "Education à completer." This ambiguous phrase is rather terrifying when accompanied by the warning that if any part of your CampusFrance application is incomplete, well, no visa for you! Yikes!
Le Chef had the same message, and he is now the proud owner of a visa, so we'll see what happens when Le Jumeau and I get to the consulate. Yay roadtrip!
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