Ima Survivor

The anticipation is over.  This was my Thursay (warning--this is a long one):

I woke up at an hour when the sun had not risen, when darkness was still upon Nantes, an hour when one should never be awake to see the clock.  It was, I think, 4:11.  And then I went back to sleep, because for some reason my body randomly woke me up and I didn't need to stay that way.

I re-awoke at another hour when the sun had not risen, when darkness was still upon Nantes, and again an hour when one should not be awake to see the clock (unless under threat of admonishment from high school cross country coaches; but even then...).  This was about 6:25.  It had a lot in common with 4:11, except it was 2 hours later and it was actually necessary to get up this time.  That was unfortunate because getting up at 6:25 is seldom pleasant.  But I persevered and got ready for the day and eventually made it downstairs for breakfast (i.e., bread, Nutella, and coffee) and then caught the tram.  At my first stop, I bought a pain au chocolat in case I would need a sugary pick-me-up later in the day (as I would).

Now, I had once thought the tram was packed full when I went on line 3 to go to the IES center at 8:30.  However, line 3 to IES is nothing less than spacious compared to the sardine-like conditions of line 2 towards the university at 7:30.  People who need extra space for their auras or egos or who easily become claustrophobic should avoid the tram to the university at 7:30 AM.

Eventually, I made it to my class (License 1 Morphology and Syntax) and took my seat.  At first, as one might expect, I was very confused.  This was my first university class, I knew no one, and could only assume everyone else was French and actually had a clue what was going on.  It was also not a giant lecture class like I thought I might take where one can simply blend it and not be noticed, so I felt a little conspicuous and awkward.  But soon the girl next to me was sharing her notes packet and I was comprehending most of what the professor was saying (mostly because he seemed to speak a little slower than most and because I had already gone over most of it).  The class seems to have a fair number of Americans, none of whom I really know, but the French still outnumber us (which is good).  The professor is also not at all like what was described--had we been speaking English, I wouldn't have been able to distinguish him from a line-up of American professors  (I think he even cursed once).  I don't feel like going into all of the differences that were explained before, so you're just going to have to trust me on this one (and, who knows, I may discover more French-ness in the class as it goes on).  I was pretty happy afterward with how this class went, but the day was only beginning....

After the class, I headed to the library to kill some time and get a little work done.  I chatted with my (American) friend Jessica for a bit and then met another friend in the program, Minh, for our dance class across the Loire River.  This was new territory for me and unfamiliar territory for her so we got out our map and touristed our way to the dance studio.  When we got there...no one else was there.  It was mildly sketchy, to say the least.  Eventually, though, a few more people showed up and we even got to go inside where we almost immediately began to learn the mambo.  I still can't say I really get it.

Thankfully, I understood the tango a little better (which we just transitioned to randomly partway through the hour-and-a-half).  Thankfully also, it was not as awkward as the time my lovely dance-savvy roommate Molly taught it to me, but then again, no one was really bringing their fuego (for better or for worse).  It should also be noted that France is apparently much like the US in this case--not many guys come to dance classes.  Of the guys that were there and the girls who were doing the part of the lead, no one really lead, either (I was for the most part a girl but somehow randomly switched to the lead in the middle of when we did the moves in a circle rather than straight lines and then switched back again.  Nothing like a gender change to throw you off in the middle of a dance, I'll tell you that much).  So the dance class wasn't as great as the university class, but it wasn't terrible either.

This is where things got ugly.  Next I had to catch the tram yet again to go to search for a woman I've never met in a school I've never seen in a part of town I've never been to.  This is vaguely similar to the recipe for disaster.  (I was going to be talking to the professor that I would do my teaching English internship with).  Knowing I might not find the school right away, I gave myself 30-45 minutes to get there from when the dance class ended.  Of course, I did not anticipate that there would be an impenetrable green fence surrounding the lycee!  Once I did find the school (about 15 minutes after I got there and wandered around, map in hand, in search of it), I could not for the life of me find how to get in.  I walked and I walked around that stupid green fence for what felt like forever (some sides of which were kind of sketchy, like with herds of stray cats and sketchy-looking apartment buildings).  Eventually, I went in a vehicle entrance that was left open.  I found a door to actually get in the building and began the in-building search.  I was just happy to get away from all the sketchiness of the outside.  This, however, resulted mostly in failure.  The fact that my cold was getting worse from wondering around in the cold outside air earlier also did not help.  Part of me also kind of wanted to cry because, as you may have noticed, I did not find this experience the least bit pleasant.  In fact, it was 100% unpleasant.  I was and still am bitter.

Soon enough (actually not nearly soon enough), I came across a woman in the school.  She looked like she was waiting for someone so I though for sure she was the professor.  You probably already guessed she wasn't her.  But she did help me get to the welcome desk where I waited for the actual professor.  She eventually came, we figured some stuff out, and then before I knew it I was on my way back home.  The professor was also became the 1639573th person to note that my name is German. (Ohhhhh, Wesche.  That's a very German name.  Are you from Germany?  No.  My ancesters are.  Oh, do you speak German.  Nope. Oh, okay...).  On my way out, I realized how easy it actually was to get into the school (through the fence, to the welcome center, etc.).  Of course, this only counts for people who receive directions when they're told two days prior that they're going to go there (I was, obviously, not of this group and therefore not privy to this information).

That was the low-point of the day so from then on it had nowhere to go but up.  The rest of the night was pretty low-key, thankfully, and I also bought some meds for my cold at the pharmacy really close to the house I'm staying at (the nose spray box says: solution pour pulverisation nasale, which sounds really violent but I think it's working...).

Today (Friday) was a fairly pleasant day.  I still have some sickness in me, but slowly it is being vanquished with my pulverisation spray, pills, and time.  I just had one class, grabbed some lunch, and then headed out.  Since it was almost 50 degrees F today, I figured I might go on a search for a bag with a zipper so those Thursday mornings when I'm crushed inside the tram I can have a little more protection against potential pick-pockets.  I came back with only a green shirt-dress from H&M which, even though not part of the crazy sales that are going on here right now (the SOLDES), was still a good deal.  Later tonight I also watched The Princess and the Frog (La Princesse et le Grenouille) for the third time--but for the first time in French.  It was still great :)

And thus concluded my first week of classes (which include: French grammer; religion, state, and French society; phonetics; teaching internship; and morphology and syntax).  Tomorrow I'm hitting up the big classical music festival called La Folle Journee that comes to Nantes every year and that IES got us each a ticket for.  It's kind of a big deal.  I think they're playing a lot of Chopin which really doesn't mean a whole lot to me except that he's very well-known and important so hopefully that means it's good.  Hopefully by then I feel better and can do more later that night (tomorrow will mean I've had my cold for a week--I'm ready to be rid of it now, thank you).
Bonne nuit!