Spring 2011 - Journeys of Friendship

This is one of the most important entries I will write. These were some of the most memorable moments of my life and they greatly influence my life today. At least my inner life. 

The use of the word 'migrant" in the Calais section sounds weird, even to me, but I don't know a better term because that's the one usually used. To me, they're just people. 

April 25, 2011 - May 8, 2011 

My teaching stint in France ended in anticlimax. The students barely even knew I was leaving and I had no real time to say goodbye except during classtime. Seven months and poof! I was gone. Like I was never there. Why? [Later note: Again, I'm grateful for the Korean system that places us for a full year, full time, gives us housing by the school and does their best to integrate us into the teacher lifestyle. At least, that is my experience.]

So a lot of my anxiety revolved around that, feeling like my time at the two middle schools had been a waste and nobody cared. It could have been my responsibility to integrate myself better though. And plan better lessons. And care more. I did care though.

But that was it - teaching was over and I gave myself no time to reflect. After the last leg of the Cyclotour des Paysans and the farm video shoot, I was anxious for some quality time with friends instead of strangers. Before the journey East to Bulgaria and Greece, there were about two more weeks of even more experience overload in and around Lille. Sounds impossible, even now, but there it was. I would take in another long bike ride, May Day and the Soup Festival in Lille, two nights in Calais immediately followed by a goodbye hangout in the Fives garden and packing up my entire room to make room for a new Fives housemate. 

Spring was beautiful, sunny and vibrant. The last band of the cyclotour landed at the Fives house and garden for a night and when they left the next morning, I had a sudden panic because suddenly I had a few days to myself. Time to think. And thinking was not something I wanted to do. 

"Two Sexy Ladies on Bicycles"

For a while, Marine and I had been planning a cycling trip from Lille to Bruges - from the northern Flemish tip of France to the northern Flemish part of Belgium. Though Marine is the more organized one, in true la-di-da fashion, we only had a printed Google map and directions, pieces of which gradually flew away in the wind. 

We made up a song "Two Sexy Ladies on Bicycles"

On the Friday morning of May Day weekend, we set out from cobble stoned Vieux Lille - the old, wealthy neighborhood in the northern part of the city - with our pretty crappy bikes. Our route was something like 80 km, but we were on the road all day, arriving at our lovely Couchsurfer's place in Bruges around the 8 p.m. sunset. Along the way, we passed ugly construction at the Belgian border, a big pink hippo in a pond, expertly crafted Belgian bike routes along waterways and small towns, lunch on a bench at the Lille-Bruges crossroads, 1 dollar Belgian beers on the ground outside a convenience store near a rushing highway after bouts of frustration. Marine: "I want to take the train!" Me: "No! I don't want to say I got there by train!"

After we got our bearings and put ourselves back on track, we rode on miles and miles of flat, open countryside where the sky suddenly opened to shower us with a torrential downpour. We rode it out, through breaking trees and distant cracking lightning until the roads turned into puddles and then waited it out in shelter with two hardcore road cyclists who only spoke Flemish. Amazing the difference a few dozen miles makes in language and culture! 

Our landing was as cobble stoned as our beginning. Pulling into Bruges on Friday evening  was a dream. Clear, warm, dry, charming, welcoming Bruges. Where there are so many bikes that no one locks them and apparently no one steals them. Our Couchsurfer Hady, fluent in English but only basic in French, was tired from work and chilling at home. So after a nice rest and dinner, we went out on the town, meandering through the main square and park lit up at night, finally settling in a bar with good music and impassioned conversation. 

We called it a pretty early night and crashed on couches, waking up to a sunny, clear Saturday morning. Marine and I were in good spirits and Hady decided to take us to the Bruges farmer's market. We couldn't have asked for a more beautiful, clear and not-too-hot day. Hady was a great host with a year abroad in Australia on the horizon. We enjoyed lunch on a patio, roaming around the market stands and being entertained by a travelling musician. Marine is a fan and practitioner of street theater so she really loved this. 

Hady left us eventually and we kept exploring on our own before making the final decision to add another 30 km to our journey with a round trip ride north to Knokke-Heist, a seaside town on the Netherlands border. It was a beautiful spring day and we were sea bound. From east Bruges, we passed a row of large windmills and continued on through some of the most beautiful, green, lush, countryside along canals and through a forest. I absolutely loved this part of the trip. (Later I would meet a Belgian activist in Calais who hated the Belgian landscape because the government has forcibly cut down so many forests and left all this flattened farmland. But we weren't thinking about it at the time). 

Nearing Knokke-Heist, something I don't remember caused another argument between us. Although none of it could really be called "arguing." It's always just heated discussion with Marine and I - us being the passionate individuals we are. Vegetarianism, mental health, self-confidence, non conformism were hot topics. And Marine always cares deeply about her friends' lives and she's always full of ideas, so she kept encouraging me to continue documentary filmmaking. Which was painful for me to hear, especially having just shot on my friend's family farm and fully unconvinced that I would actually edit the footage. (To this day, I still haven't). We finally made it to the beach, had ourselves a fancy lunch on another patio, but in the ongoing saga of squeezing everything into a short span of time, we had to haul out of there back to Bruges to catch a train back to Northern France. And I mean HAUL. We rode as though our lives depended on it with the sun beginning to set and providing us with more beautiful scenery. 

But we made it back to Hady's, took a last photo at her place and made that train. Chowing down on strawberries, we relaxed on the ride back to just below the Belgian border, riding to a place where we stopped for food, hopped on a tram with our bikes and road back to the main train station Lille-Flandres where we parted ways for the night. On that ride, we got to talking with a nice middle-aged Moroccan man about travel, culture and Morocco because I had just been there 2 months before. Brief connections, they're the best. 

I loved these 2 days. I think Marine did too. I loved them because I had nothing to prove to anyone. Because all I had to do was enjoy the company of someone who had grown to become a dear friend and even more so on the trip. Because of the challenges and little joys we discovered on the road and exploring a new place. Because there were no political undertones, no drama, no reason to do this other than we wanted to. We had a goal and we made it happen. It was a journey of friendship. It reminded me of what that word really means. Because sometimes, often, I forget. 

May Day

This adventure started the morning after the return from Bruges and spanned 2 days because it ended up at Marine's house after a wild and beautiful Wazemmes street party for the annual Louche d' Or (Golden Ladle Soup Festival). There was a travelling couple from Berlin who needed a place to crash, so we took them into our craziness. I showed them a bit around Lille the next day, in the heat and my stress. Less relax, more party.

My room was already nearly empty and I was sleeping downstairs, but I had to finish it all on May Day because the man with two beautiful little girls was moving in. The morning was spent mad bike-rushing between the house and the May Day parade in Wazemmes. I could have chosen to go to a radical book reading at a library, but thankfully, I decided to not include that on my list of a million things to do. The parade surprisingly disappointed me, it was nothing like Boston or even the retirement reform demos, no grand speeches, not much. Oh, well. I guess the Soup Festival was grabbing Lille's attention that day. 

When I got there, I was alone in the park. The soup crew hadn't made the time to actually make any soup and I missed most of the other tastings. So I was just waiting for the festivities to begin. And I was alone, with time to think. And still, thinking was not what I wanted to do. My time in France was quickly coming to an end, I'd experienced so much and met so many people, how could I be subjected to even one moment alone, my irrational brain thought. Where were my friends?? Fellow assistant teachers, activists, artists? Marine and her crew, why were they not here? I was running into people and I hated being seen alone. Clearly, I was overwhelmed and under rested. 

But the party went down for sure. We all gathered, danced in the streets, which were full of music and food vendors. I'd never seen the Wazemmes market that packed. Marine's friends from Paris and elsewhere added even more life to our event. Not surprisingly, I increasingly felt less and less inclined to leave Lille. At all. Ever. How could I? But I did.

Calais 

 What can I say about Calais? Not much that's not already said on the   site. There's the story, and I really played no part other than as a   visitor. I went there before with two other activists from Lille and   slept in the activist space, but this time, I went by myself and slept 2   nights on the floor of the dark, broken-up squatted building with the   Belgian activist and the migrants, most of them from central Africa.   At 6 a.m. every morning, they wake up with whistles around our   necks to watch for cops coming to raid. Every morning people do this. And at night too. It's unbelievable. It's no way to live. Not in Europe, not anywhere. 

I was able to speak Russian with one of the migrants, the only white man, who is from Lithuania. His was a particularly sad story and I have no idea what happened to him after I left. I have no idea what happened to any of the many migrants I met, as eager to share their tales of woe with me when they got the chance as with the other white kids. But the other No Border people were there for weeks, months, years. They're veterans. The one other female activist that I barely spoke with, she seemed to be accustomed and not be actively dealing with what was quite obviously sexual harassment by the migrants. It was tough for me there, as a woman. I wanted to talk to someone about it more, but never got the chance. These men live together in as much solidarity as they can muster, with few if any women coming through. They're from different cultures. They don't necessarily understand all facets of oppression, even though they are being oppressed. They're just human. I didn't have the back knowledge or the skills to call some of the men on their behavior at the time, though I wish I did. 

But sometimes, it was just innocent. Like the next day after lunch at the meal station, the Belgian and one of the young Sudanese decided on a spontaneous walk to the beach with beers. I was near them at the time, so I went too. Calais does have a nice beach. Even before the first No Border trip, Rebecca and I went there for a day trip that she desperately needed at the time. This time, it was warm and it was just a few hours on the beach, some boys surfing, drinking beers, playing in the sand, just young people enjoying a good time, right? On the walk back, I got a sober reminder of where we were and why. Apparently, a desperate migrant trying to swim the Channel to England had drowned or something along those lines. A police boat was circling the waters. We had to hide ourselves, because the Sudanese man was undocumented. If he was desperate enough, it could have been him.

When we were sitting on the beach, the Sudanese, who was in his late 20s, kept tracing circles on my bare foot with his fingers. It felt nice, not violating, not weird, not even romantic, just an innocent gesture. I don't remember his story, but he spoke some level of either English or French. He was a friendly guy with a nice smile. I think he lost some of his family, or he left his whole family. I hope he's OK now. I hope he has or will somehow escape the hell of the border system. 

I do remember the Belgian's story and I bet he's still around Calais. I couldn't believe he was a few years younger than me, but looked so much older and with so much more life experience. His dad was a sailor and had taken his son to so many places, including the North Pole where they were out alone with their boat. With his family and others, he had spent years in a Belgian forest occupation. That's why he hated the Belgian countryside I told him about, he knew full well what that comes from. I really respect this kid and those like him, his dedication to justice, his fearlessness and his unabashed love of life despite the darkness. When we got back to the squat, there was a rowdy soccer game on outside. Later, we sat in the dark, with migrants roasting raw potatoes over fires. There was an Italian photographer with us at some point and overall, this whole day was just a surreal experience. A different world. 

The next morning, there was a raid. I was frozen. I had no clue what to do. I had a whistle, I had my feet, I had my brains, I had my 45,000 dollar a year college education, but I had no idea how to react in this situation. I wasn't trained. The stupid blond female cop pulled me out of the clearing, made fun of my "American woman" passport and rummaged through my bag. Embarassed, I joined the rest of the No Border team and migrants outside the squat. I don't remember if they made arrests or just checked IDs. Many African men were hiding on the roof, looking down on those of us on the ground. I took the train back to Lille at some point that day. I said goodbye to the Lithunian man and promised I'd be back. I couldn't say goodbye to the Belgian guy because he was fast asleep when I was leaving, exhausted from the previous day and stress of that morning. I got a few email addresses and was told I should come visit some of the African men in England when they made it there. If they made it there. 

On the train back, I don't even remember my emotions. I don't remember feeling anything but emptiness. It's normal. It's just the atmosphere of that whole place, the endless violence, physical, psychological. The constant threat of raids, arrests, detention, deportation for these people who are mostly innocent of anything but not having the "right papers." The overwhelming privilege of being white and of having a valid passport, especially a USA passport. And the seeming hopelessness. If I stayed, I could probably do a lot more. I hated this sickly feeling of being nothing but a tourist, just on my own, with so little background knowledge. I just wanted to go there for myself, for my own education. I felt stupid and they probably thought I was. But I don't regret it, not one bit. I only regret not having the determination to stay. Guilt. The feelings are valid and it's all worthwhile. People are doing a lot right now. The situation is growing worse in summer 2012 because of the Olympics training. Calais is being cleared. But a new space is opening. There's a bigger community growing. There is always hope, even in the darkness. 

Goodbye For Now

I was really insane. I had scheduled the goodbye party in the Fives garden for the SAME NIGHT as my return from Calais. Why? I didn't realize I was in shock until I started crying when my roommate asked me how I was when I got back. I was not OK. I needed a retreat from retreats. I needed to meditate. I needed to sleep. I needed so many things that I wasn't giving myself. Teachers from school, Lille friends and acquaintances came and went throughout the night. It was a lovely hangout in our lovely garden. When I look at the pictures, though, I think what the hell was I wearing? A red top with a hoodie over an orange skirt. Crazy on the outside too. I couldn't talk to everybody I wanted, couldn't donate enough time to all these great people that had helped me and been such great company throughout my time here. Thankfully, Marine and Riquier stayed through most of the night. They are good anchors for a wayward sailor. 

The last night was the most wonderful yet, if that was possible. Marine performed at Metalus, an awesome performance space in Loos, on the border of Lille. We celebrated spring with a vengeance - many people that I loved and had gotten to know were also there. An artist/alternative life paradise. I rode back by myself late into the night.

The next day, I was off to Paris to catch the Eurolines bus to Sofia. I could write about how awful of a guest I was at the couple's apartment in Paris, for a second time, but that would just be overkill. I was self-centered. I apologized later.

I would be back to France at the end of June. But for now, I was heading East again...

April 2011 - A Northern France Spring: Sunshine, Bikes and Farms



The Fives garden 



Sun appeared at some point around mid-March and it stuck around. Northern France, land of 'les chtis,' is known for it's endless slew of cold, gray, rainy days and the equally endless supply of friendly, hospitable people who throw epic parties and concerts to stay warm. Everyone was ecstatic about spring's arrival and the city poured into the streets. Yet my favorite place was always the Fives garden. I lured as many people as possible into this small earthly paradise.

One of the 6 housemates, a reclusive middle-aged woman, was horrified with some of our efforts to "dewild" the garden - even though she herself is a gardener. We cut down part of the tree to make room for sunlight for the raised bed, which we filled with compost from the cleaned-up compost pile. By "we," I mean mostly the 30-year-old gardening enthusiast.

I was gearing up for summer travels, which started in May. And Marine and I were planning a cycling trip to Bruges. Before that, the Cyclotour happened. I saw a flyer one day at Cafe Citoyen and knew that I wanted to ride at least part of the way, even though I couldn't do the full, intensive 2 weeks. It was a great chance to see the Northern France countryside and even a bit of wandering over the Belgian border. And I could get a deeper understanding of sustainable farming efforts in the region, from which we were all removed while living in the city of Lille. 

So directly after my last day of teaching, I joined another housemate and her partner on a mini-leg of the tour.

I wish I had the right language to convey the simultaneous feelings of excitement, peaceful enjoyment of country cycling but also being out of my element. I sense that oftentimes while living in France, I underestimated the communication barrier, assuming that my level of French was enough to overcome all language and culture differences. Despite my keen interest in sustainable farming and preserving rural life, I felt that I couldn't understand or connect with all of the farm visits to the maximum. Greenhouses, goats, trees, yurts, young people in a collective house, older couples working for generations - a great diversity!

Because the Cyclotour sparked so much interest, I came back for a few days a week later which was ultimately a good idea. I directly followed it with a semi-spontaneous day of filming on my housemate's family farm.  In retrospect, I made the whole experience far more stressful for myself than was necessary. Over two weeks, I crammed in pieces of this moving cycling collective, frantically preparing for summer travels and my imminent departure from Europe! Obviously too much. Knowing myself as an easily stressed individual, it was terrible planning which led to a near nervous breakdown by the last week in April, the last part of the tour. Too many strangers. Too much activity. Of course, all was beautiful and I absolutely loved the farms and the countryside on two wheels. It's a good thing there is still so much more time and opportunity to do this in Korea and elsewhere!

February 2011: A Northern France Carnaval

Flashback to here. Post-Morocco early March. Ten amazing days, first time on the African continent, first time in a Muslim country. I still think about that time, that place - the colors, the smells, the sun, the warmth, the food, the people - such a change from gray dreary Lille in February.

If time was a falafel sandwich, Morocco was the falafel. The pita bread was Carnaval, directly before and directly after. Dunkerque, the war-famous northernmost French city, is also famous for it's nearly 2 month long weekly celebration of all things colorful, draggy, furry, feathery, drunk-on-the-beachy, and nearly getting crushed in a street parade with linked arms. Yes, people definitely die or at least get seriously injured every year. But it's a classic ch'ti tradition and I couldn't miss it.

In February, Vélorution Lille - the city's Critical Mass/bike advocacy group - organized a Saturday bike ride around the city and northern suburb La Madeleine. Of course, we were dressed to the 9s, me in borrowed gear.

I love and miss this wacky, no-holds-barred street party side of Lille. Reclaim the streets in style. There's nothing like cycling through the city with dozens of horn-honking, song-belting Carnavaleurs.

I never did get as involved with Vélorution as I wanted, never learned to fix or build bikes much, but it seems that I came the year when regular rides were no longer happening. When I think about it now, I suddenly don't feel guilty. All I had to do was admit that I love riding a bike, but I'm no mechanic. And had I invested in a decent machine instead of mooching off others', it would have been an even better experience. If I had enough money for plane tickets and bus rides, I surely had enough for a used bike. Conclusion: don't be a cheapskate and don't sacrifice your own convenience.

The day of the Carnaval Vélorution is a good example of experience overload that I engaged in on a continous basis, particularly as the weather began to improve. That evening, L'Univers cinema was screening the Calais documentary. I think I had already been to a NoBorder meeting or two, but seeing the film and listening to the discussion, really solidified my desire to go there and see the reality on the ground. Calais deserves its own post. The point is, I saw almost everybody I knew, met a bunch of new people and biked all over Lille in one day. And I just kept going and going after that...

So with buzzing thoughts of migrant activism, long bike rides and intensifying the "food not bombs" Lille project, I headed off to Morocco. Without hardly haven read a damn thing on that country's part in the Arab Spring. All I knew is we would stay with my Moroccan friend's family in Marrakech.
But that's another post.

On my return, Marine and I hit the ground running with the weekly dumpstering, cooking and serving. So one sunny Saturday, we realized the next day was the "big" Dunkerque Carnaval so hop! we were there! After a bit of disorganized coordination, we were on the party train to the Northern beach town and pretty quickly got ourselves good and liquered up. That Sunday was quite a blur that included wandering around and catching a late train back. Considering I had to work the next day, maybe not the best decision. But hey, it's Carnaval!

It was still too cold for comfort in the beginning of March, but the next weekend was warmer so it was back to Dunkerque for Malo des Bains, Carnaval on the beach! Also a crazy party train with a different crowd of people, mostly environmental activists and cyclists instead of hippie artists.

Carnaval is great fun, a great atmosphere and the best part might be the SONGS - I can't believe I just found this complete site with all of them. I never did much of Mardi Gras and beyond that, nowhere I've lived in the States has the same zest for colorful costumes and massive human street parades. People are stupid and wasted here as you might expect.

But it's not the same as Mardi Gras or St. Patty's Day. I think Carnaval is a really special celebration of life, theater and the camarederie that comes from being totally ridiculous with close friends and complete strangers.

December 2010 - A Northern France Winter

December 2, 2010 

I'm sitting wrapped under a huge comforter in my big, nearly empty room, watching small flakes of snow cover the city of Lille outside my window. For some reason, I felt like listening to Pink Floyd's "The Wall" this morning. I'm supposed to be at an assistants' orientation meeting, but it's normally my day off from work, so I have better things to do. Like plan lessons. So here I am!

I can't believe winter is here already and that the year 2010 is drawing to a close. This has honestly been the most intense, challenging, rewarding and in some ways, most joyous year I've ever had. I remember how it started - in Boston, the snow having fallen all day long on New Year's Eve. (I had arrived just the night before from Houston and it was strangely warm.) An early morning walk to the liquor store, through the nearly silent falling snow. Staying in, cooking and chatting. And then later hopping from apartment to apartment, finally ending up on Litchfield St. in Lower Allston and staying up until 4 in the morning with loads of random and not-so random people. At the time, I was still living in the Cambridgeport house, trying to build up the courage to get the hell out. It was right in the middle of the drama. But, it was a NEW YEAR with new possibilities and I was on a high. I think we listened to Simon and Garfunkel's "Parsley, Sage, Rosemary and Thyme" on vinyl. Beautiful.  

And I still had NO IDEA about all the unbelievable, overwhelming things that 2010 would bring. I didn't know that I would finally get the courage to come to a Sunday Food Not Bombs meal in Central Square, in the dead of winter. I had no idea that on a boring day in February, where I didn't leave the house at all, I would fill out the application that would lead to me moving into the Cambridge Coop in May. I didn't even know that my mother would get remarried that month. And that I would see my father get remarried and start a new family at the end of July. That I would get the crushing "waitlisted" email from the teaching assistant program in the beginning of April, forcing me to live in the present in Boston. That I would grow to love my job at Filmmakers' Collaborative so much and stay there right up until the end of August, just a few weeks before leaving for France. 

That I would have an AMAZING 3.5 months at the Cambridge Coop, transforming my life completely. That I would meet people that I may never have met otherwise. That I would become a regular Food Not Bombs volunteer and see the group put on a beautiful festival in the Boston Common at the end of May. That I would go to an anarchist conference and dance through the streets. That I would bike all the way to Walden Pond and swim there three times this summer. And finally, that getting the "you are accepted to the Academy of Lille" email at the end of June would tear me in half and force me to choose...when back after 2009 graduation, I was 100% sure that I wanted to leave Boston.

And now, I'm in France and I have no regrets at all. I did have a bout of homesickness in November, which is always a hard month for me. So many things have gone down in the past 1.5 month, some of which I can't write about here. Some wonderful, some painful, all unforgettable. Over Toussaint vacation, I spent three lovely, spontaneous days in Brussels with another assistant. Brussels is a city worth visiting, worth discovering the secrets hidden behind the EU big ugly building façade. There's Arabic and African neighborhoods, with delicious food and jazz cafes. There is also a cinematheque that shows silent slapstick comedies with live piano accompaniment for 3 euros. There is a GIGANTIC comics museum - seriously, this place is intense. Also, people speak an interesting mix of Nederlander, French and English, all of which are heard in the metros. 

I also went to Paris, which I happily realized is too intense for me. I did finally see the permanent Cinematheque exhibit though, dedicated to Henri Langlois. The weather was beautiful and I enjoyed spending time with Ratasha, her cousin and friend. I even spent some time with my current housemate Patricia, her boyfriend Hervé and his friend - it was funny to go to the Rodin museum for the 3rd time because for them, it was the 1st time!

Back in Lille, I've begun to settle into the teaching regime. It's more challenging than I thought because I have 12 hrs of totally separate classes - some of which I take on by myself - and I spend a lot of time planning lessons, as well as hopping from one school to another, sometimes in one day. One of my goals for the New Year is to become a more effective lesson planner because once I get into the classroom with at least *something* prepared, it usually works out OK. The 3éme 14-15 year olds are pretty tough to rein in - they're ready to get outta there, so they don't want to focus or pay attention to anything you throw at them. The 6éme 11-12 year olds and 4éme 13 year olds are better. Levels of English vary from class to class. For example, I recently saw a 3éme class that knows NOTHING, less than the youngest kids. Makes me wonder about the quality of teaching they're getting ;) What I don't like about taking on small classes by myself is never knowing when to speak French, getting laughed at for my accent/mistakes, and dealing with discipline. Also, at one school, I constantly have to remember when to pick up the kids from outside, when to get them from Study Hall, when they come meet me and which half of the class I'm taking. My schedule varies from week to week and it's difficult to keep track of all the kids, even with the lists I have. Even though I like most of the kids, I prefer the second school where I can concentrate on just teaching the lessons I prepare, which is challenging enough. My referring teacher agrees with me - that system works better. However, now that I'm getting the hang of it, hopefully I can start really improving.

I'm already thinking about renewing my contract next year, but of course, that's not up to me. And I can never be guaranteed a spot in Lille either. There are just so many things that I want to keep doing here - I want to work onstarting a Food Not Bombs chapter, volunteer at a cinema, work on an organic farm in the summer, keep practicing French, etc. etc. Even though it's far off, I can't imagine going back to the States in May and leaving everything hanging in the air. That's what's so tough about constantly moving around like I do: every time I start getting attached to a place/people, I get up and go on to the next place. I would like to actually build a community in Lille, if possible, and as a new person and especially as a foreigner, that really takes time. So I don't have illusions, but I'm trying to be as engaged as I can. Sometimes the assistantship actually gets in the way of that and sometimes I end up spending hours in my house. Which is not all that bad, because I do get to interact with my housemates, but they are out doing their own thing as well. So I plan on spending more time working at a local cafe, which my assistant friend and I just realized has free WIFI! It's a great little alternative coffeehouse/bar, with four floors and tons of events/flyers/fun people hanging around. Even though it can be discouraging, it usually pays off to go out as much as possible and put myself out there - eventually someone responds! 

Christmas Break is coming up in just 2 weeks! First I'm going to visit Ratasha in Athens and then.....????? I can't make up my mind on whether I want to go to Sofia, Bulgaria and then to Spain to stay with another assistant. Or come back to Lille for New Year's? Hopefully I can make a decision soon. In any case, it will be nice to travel again and see some warmer weather for a little while! Who knows what other crazy things this last month of 2010 will bring! :) 

Meanwhile, tonight I'm going to see a concert for free. One of my housemates talked me into joining a "montévideo," which takes a small group of people less than 26 and older than 55 and gets them into shows at the big venue called Aeronef. We get interviewed on camera and it's posted on the website - I'll send a link soon. I have to speak French and it's kind of intimidating, but also fun. The live music scene is alive and well in Lille and that's definitely a picker-upper during these cold winter months. The Vaselines, an old Scottish group, are coming at the end of January!

October 2010 - Northern Hospitality

October 14, 2010

Three weeks in France have gone by pretty fast. Whaddya know - there's lots to do in this somewhat unknown Northern corner of Frogland :D I'm not sure I can possibly capture, express or process everything that's happened/is happening but I can try.

First of all, Lille is a great city to live, for anyone. It's a very special place, with a unique vibe that combines Northern hospitality, Flemish influence, typical "Frenchness," urban life and small-town charm. I think people here use their friendliness and vibrant culture to combat the pervasive gray skies and chilliness. It certainly works, because so far I don't feel particularly melancholy or lethargic because of the weather, which was my biggest fear. In fact, we've had several gorgeous fall days, with all those oranges and yellows shining through. However, it is getting cold now so good thing I packed my overweight suitcases full of warm winter clothes!

Transport

So far, I've been biking everywhere. The bike is...OK, could use some work, but it definitely works and it's very easy to get around this way. Bikes are very well integrated on the roads. The metro and buses are also very clean, fast and efficient but I've just never felt the need to use them unless I'm traveling with someone without wheels. I love exploring my new city in the open air! I have a lot of company on the road and I've met people involved in the local non-profit bike organization that has open workshops and an occasional Critical Mass - for you non-cyclists, that's a worldwide monthly city ride that sorta blocks traffic but is super fun. I can't say I'm super involved yet, but I also live with other cyclists, so there's stuff around for DIY tune-ups...which brings me to...

Housing

I haven't had my own room in a house for nearly 2 months, but that's about to change. One of the teachers I'm working with didn't findout he was my responsable, or administrative guide, until school started o _ O so he couldn't find me a legit temporary spot. However! I stayed at his place for a night and then I spent a week at his neighbor's apartment - a really lucky find, because these are awesome people who know a former assistant from BU and are just really nice, fun and helpful. They are the bike folks and they also managed to *magically* find me my current apartment! Literally, one of them made a call to a friend who mentioned there was a housemate opening and wham! I visited the place and it's pretty perfect in most ways so I decided to take it with almost no hesitation because it is VERY hard to find an apartment in Lille - lots of students, etc. The slight downsides are: 1) it's sort of under-the-table without the landlord's knowledge so I'm not getting housing financial assistance or signing a lease which makes housing proof slightly less easy 2) it's not super close to my schools so the morning bike rides are a bit long. BUT my housemates are an awesome bunch of 5 French folks, with that familiar age + gender range, food & chore sharing that I had at the coop : ) There's an urban studies student, an environmentalist journalist, a financier of sustainable energy, a gardener and an accountant that takes care of the house account. I've been crashing in the living room, but this weekend I am finally moving upstairs to the open room which is gonna be great. Also, there is a sweet CAT with one blue, one green eye and hopefully he can stay on after his owner peaces out. I like the neighborhood, though it's a bit sketchy at night. Tomorrow I'm going to check out a concert at a squat which I realized is literally a 5-min. walk from my place.

Teaching

I haven't had nearly as much observation of classes as I hoped/expected but I like what I've seen so far. Next week is the last before Toussaint (All Saint's Day vacation) so hopefully I will get to have a fuller schedule then to gear up for actually taking on the kids. I am assistant teaching 6 hours at two middle schools in the same area, 11 - 14/15 year olds. Most of them are a very curious and friendly bunch and I think I will enjoy working with them. The teachers I work with at each school are very good, but I also observed a teacher whose style I really, really disliked and never want to emulate. We discussed this at our assistant orientation and I'm glad that other teachers agree that you must respect the kids or they will hate you and obviously be disruptive. As much as I don't like formal education/hierarchy, I think there are great teachers out there and that really makes or breaks the learning experience. I won't say much more on this until I actually take them on, but I am excited about my work. My colleagues are nice and I hope I will get to know other teachers soon.

General Life

I've been looking into the anarchist/activist scene, movie theaters, media and local/organic food. All of these things are good and plentiful in Lille. With the big hullabaloo about the retirement reform, radical politics is also out in the open. I could be wrong, but I *think* radicalism is much more active and not so underground here. There's a long-established self-managed space here called Centre Culturel Libertaire and they have a full calendar every month which has helped me meet people. I've made it a point to come to events where I don't know a single person and not leave until I've met at least one. This has really challenged me because everyone is French, so I'm pushing myself on both the foreign language & foreign place front. I've found people to be friendly and open, though, and I've enjoyed an interesting range of experiences, from American rockabilly with a French accent, to a smoke-filled basement of noise followed by post-punk followed by moshing to funk hXc, to a typical birthday party with dancing to cheesy dance music (these are different places, of course!) I also picked up some clothes at a clothes exchange - I've noticed that kids seem to be more included in all kinds of get-togethers here, but maybe that's just the people I've met :)

Eating vegetarian/vegan is totally doable here despite its rarity, because there are plenty of markets, organic stores and my housemates are all about that. The CCL also has a "vegan cantine" every 2 weeks which is like Food Not Bombs except more of just a get-together dinner than feeding the needy. Still really fun though! The demonstrations have been pretty intense as you read in the media, definitely nothing like the US. The government is not listening this time, though, them reforms are surely going to pass, I believe. 

So, in general, my experience thus far has been far superior to my semester abroad in Paris. I feel much more comfortable here, yet also constantly challenged and excited for the new things I learn every day. I haven't developed an itinerary for traveling yet, mostly because I feel overwhelmed by all the moving around I've done this year! Part of me is itching to take advantage of Europe and the other part just wants to stay in one place - Lille - for a bit and chill out. I've met a few fellow assistants but not anyone yet that could be a potentially excellent travel companion and I'm sort of not in the mood for going at it alone at the moment.

September 2010 - La Vraie Democracie...

September 23, 2010

I arrived in Paris early yesterday morning and took the train to Lille today, where I'm now spending the night at the house of an English teacher I'll be working with.

Things have gone really well so far. Yesterday was a beautiful, 70-degree day in Paris and to beat the jet lag, I walked around with one of the people I stayed with and we had some interesting moments. We went to the Parc des Buttes-Chaumont, one of my favorite places in Paris, with a great view of the city from the northeast. We had a couple of adventures walking back to the apartment in Belleville - we hung out in a private community garden by accident, thinking it was a public park but they let us stay. There are these great gardens where they grow food and flowers and teach kids about it :) Later on the walk, we stopped into a tiny shop that lets you bring your own container to buy olive oil and the guy working there made us try different olive oils with a spoon, without asking us to buy anything. It was Wednesday afternoon, so kids were off from school and it was a really nice, relaxing atmosphere in the city. I basically stayed up for 30 hours and then had a long night's sleep.

Today, there was a MASSIVE general strike, something like 1 million or so people in the streets through all of France. It was supposed to be mostly the transport workers, but the big issue right now is the retirement reform, raising the age from 60 to 62 and accompanied problems, so many unionists, radicals, students, etc. were out again, after the last one 2 weeks ago. Only half the long-distance trains were running, but I was only delayed by an hour so I did OK. Another teacher I'm working with met me and we went to the Lille city center - La Grand Palace - to have lunch and walk around. While we were eating, the strike demonstration came through the main street right outside our window and it was HUGE - it really seemed like the entire city was in the street, very boisterous and rowdy. The teacher I'm staying with decided to go on strike too, so he met us and the three of us hung out a bit. We saw his wife in the march as we were eating :) Afterwards, I went back to his place and met his wife and two small kids, age 25 months and 13 months - they are very sweet, interesting and well-behaved. I will be staying two doors down with younger people in a colocation - roommate situation - as a Couchsurfer starting tomorrow and they maybe can help me find an apartment also. I like this neighborhood, residential but vibrant.

I haven't been so active in finding a place recently, but I will be this week until I have to go to school to start observing on Oct. 1. I may or may not start actually teaching before the 1.5 week Toussaint vacation at the end of month, but I will first observe and get oriented. I really like both the teachers, they are super nice and helpful and I feel comfortable with them. Everyone I've met so far has been great and I've gotten to speak and hear a good amount of French. I feel calm this time around, not so intimidated and overwhelmed (yet!) I'm excited about getting to know Lille - it's much smaller than Paris, with only two train lines in the city itself, so it's very manageable. I still love Paris, but I've forgotten the beauty of getting to know a whole new place to live - it's why it's so hard for me to stay grounded! The weather will be gray, drizzly and foggy, but I think it's lively enough, so it will be just another thing to get used to. I'm going to look at a bike in the basement tomorrow, so hopefully I can make that my main form of transport soon.

So tomorrow I will explore and in a few days, I should have a lot more things settled. As of now, things are good.