Sniffle!

I'm sick! On Monday I woke up with a scratchy throat, which hurt a lot until Tuesday. Then my throat cleared up and my sinuses clogged. Today I've spent most of the day in bed, trying to prepare myself for work tomorrow. Jube is always great when I'm sick, and I feel guilty every time. When he gets sick, I am short-tempered with his moaning and sniffling. He is much more patient than I am, and much more considerate.

Beau-papa and Belle-maman bought a new car last week, a Renault Scenic. Beau-papa called Jube to complain about getting his carte grise (the car title):

"We got a taste of what Gem went through at the prefecture today!"

Jube indignantly denied it: "No, you have no idea what she's had to do to get her residency card."

Then they argued for a little while about which bureaucratic process was worse, and I think Jube won--as well he should have! I doubt that Beau-papa cried when he was finished.

As it happened, Jube and I went to the Norfolk City Hall ourselves yesterday. You see, when we bought our car, I had to work and couldn't sign the paper requesting a title. Jube's name was the only one on there. Since he has a provisional green card (to be replaced in 2 years), we might be interviewed together to prove that we don't have a fake marriage. We already have a joint bank account and a joint lease, but having a joint car title is important too. So we spent the $12 to get a new title and registration.

We were only at City Hall for about 40 minutes, which made us both very happy. It has been nearly the least hassle of any of our bureaucratic dealings so far--the only thing easier was applying for our marriage license. I figure it's because there are a lot fewer people getting married than buying cars, paying taxes, getting driver's licenses or getting new license plates.

Oh les Vachettes!

When the weather is nice and hot in the South of France (le Midi, plutot), little villages will host "Les Vachettes." I really enjoyed my first taste. At the time, I was living in Spain, and I had no appreciation for the Spanish corrida (bullfight). It was too violent for me. One of my visits to France happened to coincide with Gallargue le Montueux's fete du village, and there was a vachette during the weekend. Jube, le Pacha and I walked out to the small village arena where I was amazed to discover such an interesting sport.


Each of the bulls has a little tag tied to one of his horns, and the raseteurs have to pull it off. They have to coax the bull to charge, grab the tag, and leap over the side of the barrier. It is extremely physical and exhilarating to watch. Local farmers use the competition to show off their livestock, and none of the bulls are killed. Local businesses add prizes to make winning more exciting--for example, the announcer will call out, "20 Euros to Jean-Phillipe if he can get the tag in the next 5 minutes!" I think the audience can do the same, but I'm not certain. In Gallargues, the vachettes were free to watch, but sometimes you have to pay.

One of the attractions is, of course, les raseteurs themselves. They are always dressed in white and are extremely athletic since they have to jump over the barriers quite often. Sometimes, after a jump, they can get very close to the audience. I guess they're kind of like the rodeo riders of France, and have deep Southern accents to prove it.

This kind of fun is something I miss about summer in Montpellier, the way I miss the Delaware County Fair in autumn. I suppose I'm just a rural hick at heart.

Come On In!

This brochure was included with Jube's green card. It explains that there are lots of important things you need to do as a new immigrant to the US, but it doesn't go into detail about how to do those important things. Instead it gives lots of Internet addresses and toll-free numbers to call. I didn't know before receiving this pamphlet that Permanent Residents have to regiter for Selective Service. Luckily Jube is too old for it, so we escaped that onerous duty.

It wasn't until I reached the last page (the back cover) of the brochure that I realized that there was, in fact, an actual "Guide for New Immigrants" that you can request by calling a(nother) toll-free number or print one out "at an 'Internet Cafe.'"

We haven't ordered one yet. It amused me to receive the tiny informational pamphlet along with the green card. I mean, Jube's been here for 6 months now, so any guide comes a little late. It reminds me of the medical visit I had to undergo in France to make sure I didn't have tuberculosis--it took place a month after I had arrived, started working, and spreading my American maladies far and wide.

Bureaucracy! Inescapable and inscrutable, it has become my companion just as Jube has.

New Relatives

My mom's mom came to visit us on Saturday. She is really into genealogy and had discovered a "new" relative who had been buried near my mom's house. We all drove out to the graveyard together to find the grave.



The graveyard was peaceful, and we could hear grumbling thunder in the background. Jube hiked around and found some other potential relatives, while I got teary-eyed about the number of "Baby" headstones in the family plot.

It was a quiet afternoon spent with three living generations and who knows how many departed.

Weekend Away

So last week my boss asked me what I was doing for my mom for Mother's Day. I'd had some vague ideas like cards or sweet phone calls, but then I thought back on all of the hints she'd been giving me for the last few weeks...

"You know your brother moved out, so now we have a guest room for any time you want to visit."

or....

"I really wish I could see your new car. It seems like such a good deal!"

or....

"I love spending time with you, but I don't have any time off until June!"

So I figured, why not give her a little surprise and visit her this weekend? I called my dad to make sure that he wasn't planning on visiting, and...

"Well, you know that we're having a brunch with Grandmommy on Sunday, so it would be great if you could come!"

That did it. I called my stepfather and he set everything up, and we almost gave my mother a heart attack when she walked into the restaurant to find Jube and me sitting there waiting for her.

She's a great mom, and we've had a fun couple of days. Now I'm off to say goodnight--I'll post again tomorrow!

Oops! I Did It Again!

I forgot to post the "day of"! But we had an excuse: we left Norfolk yesterday to surprise my mom at her house for Mother's Day. She was pretty surprised, too! She reads my blog so I didn't want to mention our plans.

Now we're in Northern Virginia, and we're going to do some shopping. I'll post more than a mini when I get back (we're all pretending that this was posted on Friday, right? Right).

Oh and yesterday Jube and I took my brother the Rooster to see Hot Fuzz. It was quite enjoyable, but also part of the reason I forgot to post--I haven't been out to a "late" movie in a few years and was really tired when I got home!

[insert highfalootin' accent here]

Today we are cleaning our apartment, and Jube's job is to vacuum. Before he started, he asked me for some perfume to freshen up the air.

"Which perfume of yours is the cheapest?" he asked, looking at my small collection.

"I dunno," I answered, "I guess the Givenchy."

Giving me a skeptical look, he pointed at some body mist from Yves Rocher. "Isn't that cheaper?"

"Oh yeah, I guess it is!"

"Wow, you sounded really snobby there for a second! 'I sup-pose it would be the Given-chy--I don't allow any cheap perfume on my skin!'"

French Women Part IV

Gem's Guide to French Women Continued...

4. Flirting! Here is the big stereotype: French women are all out to steal your man. Naah, they're all out to flirt with him! Flirting is just communication. In fact, Jube and I disagree about the meaning of "flirting." Sometimes I will tell him someone was flirting with me, and he won't understand why. It's all relative.

Advice: Remember that, as fraise says, "the vast majority of couples are faithful, and reactions to adultery are comparable" to the US. And as I would say to any of my American friends, if your boyfriend is really going to leave you for someone who is trying to "steal" him, then he's not worth it.

What would any guide be without personal anecdotes of failure? I have not always been able to follow my own advice.

This is my darkest moment. When I first came to France, I spoke nearly zero French. Maybe not absolute zero, because I knew merci and bonjour and au revoir and bon appetit, but that's it. It would kill me when a girl would talk to Jube without including me in the conversation! Once an English major came up and asked his advice about what courses to take in the US. This irked me because she could obviously speak enough English to take courses in America, but neither she nor Jube could put themselves out to speak English with me. Did I try to keep things in perspective and remember how embarrassed I used to be to speak Spanish to a native speaker? Naahh. Who needs perspective? This story isn't really flirting, but I was annoyed.

And That Concludes the Gripping Story of French Women.

French Women Part III

Gem's Guide to French Women Continued...

3. Older French women are very similar to their younger counterparts. If you're younger, you probably won't be spending much time with them--or so you think! In reality, French mothers are Latin mothers, big on family time and invested in their children (even if the "child" is 20, 30, or 40).

Advice: Again, patience is a virtue! Compliment their food, admire their houses, and they will love you. Oh yeah--and laugh at their jokes.

What would any guide be without personal anecdotes of failure? I have not always been able to follow my own advice.

If you are a regular reader of this blog, then you already know that Belle-maman is a really great mother-in-law. I don't know if I got lucky or if I just managed to follow all of my own advice. The only time I failed involved her teaching me table manners. She told me not to cut my lettuce with a knife, and I got upset. Who was she to be teaching me etiquette? I responded curtly, she became defensive, and I realized that she was just acting like a mother. She would have told Jube or le Pacha the same thing she told me.


Don't Tune Out Yet! Tomorrow the Final Installment of this Incredible Saga!

French Women Part II

Gem's Guide to French Women Continued...

2. Most young (and by young, I mean 23-30) French women I know have boyfriends. This isn't exactly surprising since there is no concept of casual dating in France. What may be a bit more unusual is the length of the relationships. Jube has friends who have been dating since high school and are now entering their 30s, still together, but unmarried.

Advice: Be patient! For Americans in France, this can be problematic, since French women already have a large group of friends and are not ready to take the time to add you to it. Remember: this is not a "French" thing! Without realizing it you probably did the same thing in college by not thinking of inviting the international student out with you. That's okay! Be persistent!

What would any guide be without personal anecdotes of failure? I have not always been able to follow my own advice.

My French female friends were limited to those I got to know through Jube, and I wouldn't have gone out to the movies with them. I had a good time when we got together but it was hard to initiate contact. Now back in the US, I can see that this was my biggest problem, and I've been trying to get to know other people the way I wish I had back then. So this year, I have friends from outside of my program; friends from other countries; and friends I met at work. I still have a ways to go...


Stay Tuned for Tomorrow's Installment...

French Women Part I

I've been inspired by some recent posts (here, here and here) to write about my impressions of French women. I will say that my experiences are my own, colored by geography (mostly Southern France) and my connections (ehem, Jube). So, without further introduction, welcome to:

Gem's Guide to French Women

1. The characteristic that most young French women share is short bangs. Very very short bangs. Jube and I surmise that they were really inspired by Amelie. Unfortunately the style isn't really that flattering on everyone. (Have you seen any of these short-banged French women? In fact, there are a lot without short bangs. But still, the most common characteristic I could think of was this. Does that mean that French women are... women? Individuals, perhaps?)



Advice: If you are living in France, you may be tempted to have a short-bang cut just like them. Try to resist unless you have a medium-sized forehead.

What would any guide be without personal anecdotes of failure? I have not always been able to follow my own advice.

My last haircut in France was accompanied by the request to cut my bangs short. Luckily it ended up alright because of my puny forehead.


Flashier Stuff to Come! Stay Tuned and Keep Reading!

Edited: One French woman who did not have short bangs will also not be president. Sarkozy was elected today. As le Pacha would chant: Sarko, president!

a vote

Today Jube cast his ballot in the second round of the French presidential election. Results are in tomorrow at 8pm French time, 2pm Virginia time.

I had a more interesting post in the works, but I haven't had time to work it out yet. In the meantime, please remember that 11:59pm still counts as the "day of." I've turned in lots of papers that way, too, and they were perfectly acceptable.

Oh yeah, and we went to my friend's house tonight for Cinco de Mayo, where we ate Korean food and tried the Nintendo Wii. It was great and we all looked really silly (which is half of the fun of the Wii, I think!).

Finally.... Over....

Last night I went out with some friends to celebrate the end of classes. Unfortunately I couldn't really "celebrate" a whole lot because I had to work today at 8:00am! This semester I didn't work on Fridays, so it was a terribly harsh sound this morning when my alarm clock went off. But I soldiered on by wearing my cutest Kookai skirt that made everyone talk about how fashionable I was. (No, I didn't exactly hear them saying that, but I'm sure that's what they were whispering about.)

And I worked haaaaaaard! Since I'd missed some days this week because of exams, I had a lot to catch up on, and then we had a little event that I helped set up. Luckily Jube came to "volunteer" (is it still volunteering when your significant other forces you to help?) and we snagged enough leftover food to eat for a long time. Then he went off to Willy's house to jam and I relaxed.

When I say he went to a friend's to "jam," you all know that I meant he went to play the guitar, right? Well, in French, you just say jouer, or to "play." When I first talked about him getting together to make some music with friends back in the US, I kept saying, "Oh, they're playing together." I didn't realize for awhile how silly it sounded. So yeah, Jube is over at Willy's house playing. I hope he has a great time, 'cause I'm having some wonderful relaxing moments here by myself. Yes, WONDERFUL!

P.S. I'm sure you all thought I forgot to blog today, but I didn't! See? Now I've met my FINAL final deadline.

2007: le Débat

So anyway, since I somehow started the month with posts for each day, I'm going to set myself a challenge: write one post for every day in the month of May! I have a tendency to lose track of blogging time (as in, I thought I wrote one yesterday but really that was 2 weeks ago), especially when I have lots of schoolwork. But in May I won't have any classes, just work. I figure it's as good a time as any to try this out.

First subject: the debate between Sarkozy and Royal that took place yesterday. I had it on in the background while I was writing my paper yesterday and I only really paid attention to the beginning, the parts about immigration, and the parts about education. One specifically stood out to me because I thought it was a bit sexist. (For those of you who aren't aware of it, Sarkozy is a man and Royal is a woman; Sarkozy is more conservative, with the UMP party, and Royal is a socialist.) I've thought about it some more, and now I don't think it was intended to be sexist, but it upset me at the time.

What happened was that Sarkozy mentioned a reform he wanted to create that would allow handicapped students to attend "normal" schools. Royal became upset at this point because she, as Minister of Education (awhile ago), had actually passed measures that let teacher's aides help handicapped children in the regular classroom, thus allowing them to attend regular classes--and the UMP had removed funding from this project, thus putting the issue on the table again. She interrupted Sarkozy and "raised the tone" (as the French say) of the conversation, even calling his proposal "immoral" because his party had already struck hers down.

(Here's where it gets questionable.) Sarkozy told her to "calm down" (Calmez-vous, Madame!), and I knew it was going to get worse. I absolutely hate it when people tell me to calm down when I'm making an argument, and I could kind of tell it was the same with her. She did not calm down and told him that one shouldn't calm down if one thinks that something is immoral. Then he went for the throat: "Madame, il faut etre calme pour etre president" (Madame, to be president, one must be calm).

Wooooooo! Now that bugged me a little bit! Let's imply that she's hysterical and incapable of managing her emotions! (Yeah, that's what I thought was sexist.)

She really got into it, defending herself, saying that she wasn't upset but rather angry, and we have the right to get angry. I personally thought she did a pretty good job of keeping her cool, although other commentaries I've seen have not agreed.

Why did I change my mind and think it wasn't meant as sexist? Well, people have been saying that Sarkozy would lose his cool, so I think he was just trying to be ironic--"one must be calm to be president" might have been a charge leveled at him, and so he was trying to turn it around. Unfortunately it came off as sexist to me. As I've said though, no one else I've read has seen it that way (voir: this blogger I like).

Now, before you go thinking that I looove Royal because she is a woman and, well, women with feminist leanings just love all women no matter what they do... Let me tell you. I have no preference for either candidate. In fact, up until a few weeks ago, I was favoring Sarkozy. But he really rubbed me the wrong way during this debate. And of course, I don't live in France anymore, so more taxes or less immigrant rights doesn't mean the same thing it would have last year.

Yeah, that's a pretty crummy thing to say, but it's true, sadly. But I'll still watch arret sur images today to see what I missed.

Maybe He Was Right...

I guess it has to happen sometimes. I finished my last two paragraphs but I haven't started my last (lastlastlast!!!!) paper yet. Due at noon tomorrow. Will probably be written tonight in front of the TV.

In other (non-school-related) news, it was my birthday yesterday! My dad woke me up in the morning to wish me a great day, and Lorene called me at work after scaring Jube with her German birthday wishes. My boss gave me a really nice card and invited us out to dinner with her and her husband next week. Then last night Jube took me out to the restaurant where we stuffed ourselves.

I dressed up in a Promod dress I'd bought a couple of years ago and wore the Fragonard perfume he bought me during our first trip to Eze. He wore shorts and his "Crabby Dick's" t-shirt, which I thought was a great choice since we were going to a rival restaurant, Joe's Crab Shack. (Yeah, I was probably way overdressed, but I don't get to dress up too much and it was fun!) We had shrimp, crab dip, dessert, all on the pier in downtown Norfolk. Funnily enough there were two tables of French men nearby.

Then we came home where I fell asleep almost immediately and I woke up this morning with a sore throat, having caught a little bug. That must be why I haven't started my paper yet, right?

Something to think about...

Background: I have a 15-page paper due tomorrow. It is finished except for about two paragraphs.

Gem: Why, why, WHY can't I finish this paper? It's only two paragraphs! Just the conclusion! What's so hard about it?

Jube: Easy. It's because you don't want to start the next paper.

Gem: Yeah, right. Merci pour la psychologie.

Jube: No, seriously. Trust me. I do it all the time.

I knew he was a procrastinator, but I didn't realize it came with perks!

Fin Avril

Last year at this time Jube and I were nervously waiting to receive word about his fiance visa. We were unaware of how long it would take to get everything set. His parents called every day for a week asking for the date of the wedding because they were sure that plane ticket prices would soar for every delayed minute... My mother kept cool (at least on the phone with me!) and drove to Norfolk to find us an apartment... We were not yet worried about his immigration, but focused more on our jobs. I remember quite clearly my mixed feelings on the bank holidays on May 1st and May 8th: I was happy I didn't have to work, but Mondays were my "big days" and I would be losing a lot of revenue.

This year I am not worried about money or immigration. I have a concrete plan for my summer and Jube just received his "green" card (it's actually white...). Instead, I am temporarily stressed out about my finals. I'm sure that after next Friday I will be relaxed, ready for my part-time job. [I recently realized how wonderful working 20 hours a week is. I think it's the perfect amount. Unfortunately I don't think I'll be able to get as much money as I might working full-time, but it's always nice to dream!]

We also attended a French speaking get-together yesterday. There were three French citizens, one Franco-American, one Englishman, and some 'mericans. I was happy that I hadn't lost much French, and it was great for my ego that two people asked if my parents were French. (100% American, if you're wondering.) As always, I don't know how amazing my grammar is, but my southern French accent manages to fool them. In fact, when I was first learning French, I couldn't exactly have a conversation. Jube's friends found phrases like tant pis hilarious when I said them, because I had such a heavy Meridional accent. This used to bother me--I mean, I was trying really hard to speak French, and all that happened was that people laughed at me! But then I realized that it would be pretty freakin' hilarious if a Frenchie would say things like "Hi y'all! Ah'm Pierre!"

It was interesting to meet French expats in the US. Some of them were going through the same culture shock I experienced and that I still read about on other blogs. I'm really glad that Jube isn't having trouble acclimating to the US. I can hardly remember how out of place I used to feel during my first few months in France.

Anyway, I guess I'll get back to grinding out papers. Only 14 more pages to go...

Consume Consume Consume!

This weekend was a busy one, and now it's exam week... so I'll try to update as quickly and as thoroughly as possible!

Last Saturday Jube, Kilmer & I drove out to Chesapeake to look at a used car we found on Craig's List. It was just as good a deal as we'd thought, so we decided to buy it! Yes, we have been living in the US without a car for six months, and it is SUBHUMAN. (Actually it's not subhuman, we've been doing fine and saving lots of money on gas, but now Jube has to get a job and a car is required...)

We drove out to find a notary, but unfortunately it was after noon and all of the banks were closed. I pulled out my checkbook to give the first owner a deposit only to find that I had no checks left--just some duplicates and deposit slips that had fooled me into thinking there was something underneath. I guess it's a good thing that we hadn't found a notary after all. We made arrangements to meet on Monday for the car instead.

Then we drove back to Norfolk where Jube took advantage of our having transportation to cast his vote for President of the Republic. I can't tell you who he voted for because it is a SECRET BALLOT!, but I will tell you that the-person-who-shall-not-be-named didn't make it into the runoff election. And it wasn't Le Pen.

On Sunday I went to Taste of India, a celebration of Indian culture, with some Indian neighbors. They even lent me some clothes so I could go in "Indian dress." I ate great food, saw a Bhangra competition, and even made some new friends. Here I am in character:


The next day we got our car! Yay! Here is a picture of it for everyone to drool over:

Monday was awesome!!! Not only did we get our car, Jube received word that his temporary green card had been printed--and on his way to 7-11 to buy celebratory ice cream, he noticed this really cool entertainment center by the dumpster. And it had a rug on it. We dragged them up to our apartment, where they make a great addition to our decor. Yes, Robin, I've been converted to Dumpster Diving!

And now I feel really guilty that I haven't started any of my final papers yet, so I've got to go. 1st year of grad school is almost over!!!!

Did you know ...

...that the Nintendo DS has a little microphone on it? And some games require you to blow into the microphone to get the characters to jump around? It's true! Jube was playing one of those games the other day while I read the platforms of the French presidential candidates to him.

The platforms are interesting to read... the leftist candidates talk about raising minimum wage, reducing the number of weekly hours worked, and legalizing all immigrants (literally those "without papers," les sans-papiers). The more conservative candidates advocate raising the weekly work hours, keeping Turkey out of the EU, and kicking out all illegal immigrants (immigration zero--I'm sure you can understand that one!). Those in the middle prefer a melange, focusing on solidifying the current 35-hour work week and new immigration restrictions (in Sarkozy's words, immigration choisie--the government chooses who to let in, similar to the US).

I was reading Jube the platforms because he had just received an invitation to vote in Norfolk. He is still debating on whether to vote or not, for a couple of reasons: 1) the voting location is relatively far from our house, and we still don't have a car; 2) he can't really decide who to vote for.

As I read some of the platforms, we would laugh trying to imagine how they could implement their ideas. One that I loved was Le Pen's plank that would give women a minimum wage for the rest of their lives if they have children. "Wonderful!" I said, "As soon as I have French citizenship we'll move back and have three kids."

"No, wait," Jube said.

Sure enough, under "immigration," there it was: "Will cancel all rights to French citizenship based on marriage." We started laughing.

"Damn!" said Jube, "Le Pen made me lose my last life!" He had inadvertently laughed into the microphone and jumped right into a little pit. Now he's definitely not voting Le Pen.

Memories...

I just realized that it's been about a week since I last posted. Unfortunately there is nothing going on around here that might possibly be interesting! I figured I might post one of my memories from before the beginning of time (i.e. before I began my blog).

In May, 2005, I had just finished my 7 months of French assistantship and was ready for some vacation! Jube was nearing the end of his stage (as a student teacher), and we knew we would be moving to the Nice academy in a few months. I really wanted to go to Roland Garros, which was being held the last week of May and the first week of June. Le Parisien's girlfriend at the time was a posh commerciale at Todd's, and she could have gotten us tickets. However, my brother and his girlfriend had already bought their tickets to visit us on exactly the same dates! I decided to put my dream on hold for another year. [They broke up a week later.]

My brother, JW, and his girlfriend arrived late on the day they were supposed to get there, causing us some logistical problems. See, we only had one car, and Jube had to work in Clapiers (a town near Montpellier). He raced to the airport during his lunch break, gave JW a twenty-Euro bill, and wrote our address on a piece of paper. The two jetlagged first-time out-of-the-country travelers managed to find a taxi. Unfortunately the taxi had some problems finding our apartment. Granted, it was on a very small street, but seriously! He left JW at the end of the street (a street of about 10 meters) because he couldn't find our number (number 2!!). Sweet little brother tried to give him a tip, but their taxi driver must have felt bad and didn't take the naive American's money. They finally made it to our apartment, safe and sound.

I think they had a good time--we even took a trip to Barcelona!--but one incident will always stick out to me about their visit. Jube and I used bikes to get around Montpellier, and we decided to rent a couple of bikes for the Lovebirds. We decided to bike to the Zoo one day. Jube told us it wasn't far, but we shouldn't have trusted him: as a child he was in the mountain biking club of Mende, and his parents still take Sunday bike rides from La Grande Motte to Palavas. It wasn't impossible to get to the Zoo, but we were out of breath when we arrived--and the poor little Miss (JW's girlfriend) had fallen twice, once in front of a bus when she tried to dismount!

By the time we reached the Zoo, la Miss was ready to relax--but first she had to find a bathroom. Luckily there was a public toilet right next to the Zoo entrance. To our surprise, she reappeared nearly as soon as she had entered. "There are no toilets there," she told us, seriously. Upon further investigation, we discovered that there actually were toilets--des toilettes turques*. La pauvre! I think she must have used them, but I'm not sure... she might have held it during the whole visit.

We made it home safely, with no traffic accidents, but I think she was happy to see our bathroom!




*Basically a hole in the ground with some hand supports (if you're lucky). I know I shouldn't be mean--once, a couple of years earlier in Saint Jean du Gard, I had refused to use some of those very same toilets... but it was because I had a UTI!