One Step Forward, Two Steps Back

I'm not sure how many people described to me the stages that one goes through when studying abroad but everyone described them differently. But of all the stages, including paranoia, acceptance, homesickness, etc... no one ever mentioned to me the stage of absolute boredom and ennui. No one told me that the time would come when I would decide to reject the French language entirely, instead, opting for rearranging my furnature and writing haikus about the "washer" and "drier."

Last night was the annual party of the patron saint of the F.L.S.H. (Faculté Libre des Sciences Humaines): St. François de Sale. I couldn't tell you who he actually is, or why he's the patron saint of the humanities department here... but I will tell you that he's blingin'. The party cost 7€ for a pre-party hour of Sangria and Pâte sandwiches (the French know how to ROCK!) and then a talent show. The main difference between a French college talent show and an American college talent show is that the people here actually have a modecum of talent. I could tell the jokes were funny even though I couldn't understand every third word. (side note: in Lille, the French is a messy combination of French and Flemmish, as far as I can tell, making the translation difficulty four-fold.)

The oddest thing may have been watching people dance to such American hits as "If Everybody Had an Ocean," by the Beach Boys; "Prince Ali" in French, by Disney; and "Let's get Retarded," by the Black-Eyed Peas, a classic in any culture. My favorite line is "Bop ya head like epilepsy, up inside ya club or in your Bently, Let's get ignant, Let's get Hectic, YA YA YA YA YA YA YA..." Ahhhhh, America's number one export...

The differences are never ending and a little daunting at times. It's funny to know that you should be enjoying something, but to basically not be enjoying much. My only hope is that it will pass. Today's class is a good example of an astounding and slightly frustrating difference. Carrie and Erin and I arrive in time for class (Comparative Literature) and take our seats. Five, ten, twenty minutes pass and there is no teacher and no one seems to mind in the slightest. After a half an hour, one girl goes to see where the professor is and returns to report that Messieur Flipo is, indeed, not coming. This is the first day of class.

So yet another unsolved mystery is placed on the pile. Do French teachers frequently decide they'd rather sleep in than attend their own classes? Do French student always find it great fun to sit and wait for a half an hour before leaving? Is everything here this disorganized/infuriating? Will there always be an inch of standing water waiting like a cess-pool in my shower in the morning?

Yes.

The question is whether or not the education I get from this will be worth it or not. To be honest, I miss attending class regularly. I miss doing anything regularly, as a matter of fact. There's something to be said for the familiarity of a routine in a place where it seems that not a soul would care if you disappeared entirely. I miss the knowledge that my teachers would call my house if I missed a week of class; here the teachers don't even notice that they've missed a week of class. And I'm wondering, what is the point of being here if everything I learn I have to teach myself on the internet?

Had I known this was the case I may have just taken a semester off to read books on the beach in Hawaii and work in a restaurant for Tourists. At least I'd be tan and maintaining a budget.

Phrase du Jour: Je ne peux pas trouver les mots. (I can't find the words)