Le Weekend et La Jour de Saint Valentin

So another weekend has passed already. It's crazy that I've almost been here exactly a month. Time is flying by and I can't even believe it.

Anyway, Friday I went out...but we don't have to talk about that...soo

Saturday I ate lunch with my host mom and brother who is visiting from Lyon. Lunches here in France are pretty big, and it reminded me of something I would eat for dinner. Roasted chicken and rice with this mushroom sauce. Completely delicious. My host mom is a great cook, gotta say. I then videochatted with Mom and Grammy, and sang her happy birthday :) It's so great being able to skype with people you love and miss. After a short vid session, I headed to "place" aka place de la comedie to meet my friends to go to the soccer game-Montpellier v. Grenoble. Though we had some issues receiving our tickets (ie. we went on the tram for a few stops until we realized we had to go back to comedie to pick up our tickets at the fnac), we finally made it to the game. Megan and I managed to get into this section that we were not supposed to be in but it was literally on the field. We were three rows back--AWESOME. The game was a fun experience--there was this rowdy section singing and chanting with signs..and a lot of security. I really wanted to be in that section...it seemed so fun! It was quite amusing sitting among all French men and hearing them shout profanities in French...gotta love it! It was freezing at the game so we all left early and went to dine at un restaurant. We looked so classy in our hoodies.

Sunday, was La Jour de Saint Valentin, or Saint Valentine's Day. Now, in France, Valentine's Day is celebrated a lot differently than in the U.S. What's the difference you ask? Well, here, you have one valentine, and that valentine is your loved one. Here, your valentine has to do with love--a relationship, a marriage, etc. You can't have multiple valentines. Imagine Valentine's Day in the states without exchanging cute little valentines in elementary school. Sad right? Well that's how it is here. If you don't have a lover to be your valentine, valentine's day is just another normal day. My host mom laughed when I received a Valentine's Day card from my parents--she said..."That would never happen in France."

For le jour de saint valentin, I met up with Laur, picked up a bottle of rosé (for a splurge of 3,50euro) and headed to Aila's. At Aila's, I realized I was developing a pimple under my eye and it was really bothering me. Of course, I asked all-knowing Aila if she had any miraculous cures and of course...she did. And of course, it was myrrh.

Aila: "Myrrh, Laur...myrrh..."
Laur: "Oh perfect, Aila, now that you've repeated it two more times I totally understand what you're talking about."
Aila: "Myrrh - as in what they gave to the baby Jesus?"

Yes, that's what she put under my eye. And what happened then? Well Aila had told me my eye would probably water, but I didn't realize that my eye would decide to CRY. Literally, my eye would not stop tearing. So of course, another brilliant solution Aila had was to make me an eye-patch. As she said, "Siobhan had a pimple, I made her a pirate." After that debacle, we decided we needed to go out to get some treats for our day. I looked awesome walking around town with one eye tearing like crazy--they must have thought I was distraught over not having a valentine, but I wasn't! My valentine was just across the ocean that's all.


We came back with one baguette, a round of Camembert (a delicious cheese), another bottle of rose, a bottle of champagne, and three pastries. I think we did pretty well. The day continued with music, chatting, and eating delicious paiella that Aila created. It was a lovely day. When we finally toasted to "Our Signifiant Others are Across the Ocean" Day, I thought it appropriate to sing the lyrics of Brand New's "Seventy times Seven", "I hope you choke and die"...and so THAT was what our toast was. Fitting?

All in all Valentine's Day was great. Though I wish Mark could have celebrated with me, it was awesome spending the day with good company, filled with lots of laughs, and tons of memories.

Things of Mention...

So there have been some things in Montpellier and France in general that I've wanted to take note of and share with all of you who read this lovely blog of mine.

First of all: there are dogs EVERYWHERE in Montpellier. Honestly, I think that more than half of the people here have dogs. With that being said, there is dog POOP everywhere. Yes, I said it, there is dog shit everywhere you go. Now, usually this would not be a problem. Of course, everyone poops, and dogs are of course included in that everyone, but the problem here is, the dog owners do NOT pick up the poop. In America, most people pick up after their dogs because it's common courtesy—no one wants to be stepping in doggie business. Here, it covers the sidewalks. You have to dodge it while walking. It’s horrible, and is really getting on my nerves. I hate seeing the beautiful city, and then THAT all over the sidewalks. And yes, if you’re wondering, I’ve already stepped in it and didn’t even realize until I got home. Lovely surprise right? Loved cleaning that off the bottom of my beautiful leather boots. Damn merde. You really have to watch where you are walking--instead of looking at the sights, you have to look at the ground, for fear of stepping in doggie surprise. I guess people don’t pick up after their dogs because they expect the street cleaning crew to do it—which they do…but not as often as needed. Let's put it this way, once they street crew it out at dusk, all the, pardon my english, SHIT, is already smashed into the pavement. GROSS. Still have yet to truly understand this aspect of Montpellier culture.

Another thing is there are a lot of homeless people here. Most of these homeless people have dogs too. I’ve been wondering, how do they have these dogs? And why? Dogs in the US are expensive, so how can homeless people afford to have dogs here? Well…I’ve found out the answer! These homeless men and some women receive money from the government for their dogs. Yes, they PROFIT for the safekeeping of their beloved animal. So basically, these people use the dogs for money purposes (or so I’ve heard). Also, when a homeless person has man's best friend by his side, he most likely will not be arrested. Here, there is no place to put the dogs, so if the police arrest someone on the street, the dog will just be roaming around, and who wants that? So, dogs provide a safety net. Interesting right? Of course, dogs also serve as a companion. Most of the dogs I've seen seem to be treated fairly well and others..not so much. Oh one more thing, don't be surprised to see random dogs prowling around...I swear they don't have to wear leashes.

On a completely different subject, I have found the creators of PDA-ie. Public Displays of Affection. And who, you may ask, created this often times hated issue--THE FRENCH! Yes, you've guessed it-these romantic people definitely love to show it. Laur and I walk around Montpellier and are just amazed at the amounts of PDA we can see in one day. Couples kissing, touching, groping and loving--and not just for their eyes only. Nope. We can see it all. Sure, I understand holding hands and hugging, and little kisses, but honestly...kissing necks, deep passionate kisses, hands in places they shouldn't be...isn't that a BIT much. I don't really want to see that and I'm pretty sure no one else does. Get a room please. Thanks. Oh yeah, picture on the right--we wanted to take a picture of this extraordinary couple completely going at it in Monacco--parents, or some other older adults were present at the table. Awkward maybe? We thought they wouldn't make me taking a picture since we were already seeing into their romantic life.


Some other mentionable things:
-no notebooks with lined paper, it's all about writing on graph paper here
-one can purchase milk that is not in the refrigerated section---interesting?
-no snacking=just doesn't happen here
-no deodorant but lots of cologne-I swear some men don't wear deodorant and think cologne will suffice.

All for now, I'm sure there are more that I just can't think of right now.

Stomach is growling. Nothing new here!

Why "Adventures of the TOKEN AMERICAN"

I thought that I'd be a good idea to explain why exactly I chose this title for my blog: well, it comes with a story.

I think it was the third day here in Montpellier. I had been at the Minnesota office, hanging out with some friends, going online, and looking at courses to take at Paul Valery University. My friends, Laur, Christina, Kate and I decided that we should head out and go walk around by place de la comedie. The Minnesota office is not far from there, so I never thought anything bad would happen...but I was wrong.

Of course, on the walk to Comedie we have to pass by the lycee, or the high school. Sure, this would not normally be a big deal because students are in class and we can pass by without problems, but it was around lunch time and many of the coool high school students were outside. Two of these "chic" high school boys were kicking a soccer ball. Not kicking like, "oh hey, this is fun, let's kick a ball on the ground and be safe," no they were kicking it into the air with the possibility of it hitting someone. As soon as we turned the corner and I saw the two boys (yes boys) kicking a ball, I immediately had bad thoughts. I was standing next to Laur and we were saying back and forth to one another, "someone is going to get hit..they are going to hit one of us..it's going to be me because I'm the one with blonde hair.." and then BAM!

BAM as the ball slams into the back of my head. I didn't even see it coming! I was so shocked I turned around and started yelling in franglish. The impact of the ball must have screwed up my thinking pattern because I decided to yell in half French half English as all the high schoolers laughed at my condition. "OH MY GOD DIEU. DESOLE PEUT-ETRE? IT WOULD HAPPEN TO THE TOKEN AMERICAN WOULDN'T IT?!" Translation-"oh my god god. sorry maybe? it would happen to the token american." It was really a sight to see. Of course, my friends just laughed (as they were in complete shock as well) and carried me away from the situation. The two boys didn't even apologize, unless you count a pat on my shoulder and no eye contact. gosh.

So, with that lovely story being said, maybe everyone can understand why I feel like I am the token American. I got hit, with a soccer ball, in the back of the head, by two high school Frenchie boys. It would happen to me. The Token American blonde girl.

I swore I'd never pass by that school again...but the next day, I did. With my head held really high and an EXTRA angry look on my face. :)