I have decided that I shall take hiatus on the weekends. If for no other reason than that I seem to get in late and chat with all of the people at home (for whom it is a normal hour) and then go to bed. So, while my Saturdays seem to be rather eventful, it might be Mondays before I get to posting about it.
This Saturday was no exception as far as eventfulness went. I woke up around 10:00 in the morning and went with Lucy down the road to the laundromat. The washing machines cost 3€20 each and hold up to 6 kg of clothing. Lucy took one, I took one, and we shared a third one, and it took about 30 minutes to wash everything. From there, we dumped what went into the dryer into the dryer and ran it. Half a euro got 5 minutes of drying time, and I started my dryer before Lucy's clothes finished. Being accustomed to having clothes that are actually dry when I take them out of the dryer, I ran my clothes five or six times (before Lucy put hers in and made one euro get 10 minutes instead of having to restart the machine every 5).
After we had clean, although slightly damp clothes, we came back home and hung things up to dry. I had received two or three text messages ("un texto" in french) saying that we were meeting at the gare routiere (our bus station) at 12:30 to go to IKEA. Even though I already bought a comforter downtown, I decided to go, since I have heard that a trip to the IKEA store is kind of like going to Bass Pro Shops: it's enough of an adventure in itself that you've just gotta go.
I stopped at a kiosk on the road between home and the gare to get lunch, and ended up buying the worst off-the-street sandwich I've ever eaten. I threw it away about 5 bites in; it was like the man had put it in the oven for 1/3 of the time that he should've. When I found the girls I was going to Ikea with, they mentioned that we'd get lunch when we got there, and I decided that would be better than my worse-than-mediocre stand sandwich. So, we road the bus the 20 minutes to the next town where the IKEA store is, and, sure enough it's quite a massive place. I really wish that I had taken pictures of the store inside and out. It's like a two-story walmart with a Swedish restaurant, model rooms, and all sorts of pre-fabricated furniture to buy.
I spent about 60€, which was a lot, but I got a lot of things. I bought two mats for my bedroom floor so that when I get out of bed in the morning I'll step onto carpet instead of freezing cold linoleum, I bought two extra bath towels, a pack of four hand towels, and various and sundry miscellaneous other items. Before we shopped, we ate at their restaurant. The three girls I was with all had Swedish meatballs, which I guess is the obvious choice of food, but I had a delicious (DEEEEE-licious) ricotta and spinach pasta roll-up. It was like veggie lasagna, but prepared in a roll instead of in a stack.
Leaving Ikea was a challenge. After checking out through a line of screaming, disgruntled, unhappy babies, toddlers, and young children (and, to some extent, their mothers), we got outside and walked up to the bus stop. Now, we can't say we weren't warned; we were. In asking about how to get there and back, we had heard that the buses to and from IKEA go and come from Aix considerably less frequently on the weekends. But, when we had gotten off the bus to go in, we had not checked the schedule, and so when we got to the bus stop at 4:30, the next bus was scheduled to arrive at 7:45.
This caused mild panic, as the prospect of having to wait 2 hours and fifteen minutes in cold wind is wont to do, and we began texting our friends back in Aix to find out if they could check the actual bus schedule online. According to Chris, who ended up looking things up for us, the public transit system in France has a website that is very difficult to navigate. In the end, we lugged our things to a nearby restaurant, where the very nice host called a cab for us. It ended up costing us 55€ to get home, which, split between four of us was 13€75 each. I thought that it wasn't a bad cost, although I seem to have a different sense of what is and what isn't expensive. All told, however, we would have had to pay about 7€ for the bus, so it was not that much of a loss.
Once we got back, we split up and went home, planning on meeting back in town for coffee or tea. The four of us assistants who live in Vauvenargues had been invited to see a performance of Edith Piaf songs Saturday Evening, so, by the time we got back out into town, we needed to eat dinner. We met back up with the girls who had gone to IKEA and ordered drinks in a café that didn't sell food, but that told us we would be welcome to eat there. So, Chris and I, who were the only ones out of the group going to the performance, walked down the street to an asian noodle bar and got dinner. This we took back to the first restaurant and munched on it while continuing socializing with our friends.
We came back to our residence to shower and get ready to go, and, believe it or not, much of what I wanted to wear was still damp from having been washed. I showered and pulled together a quite cute outfit (if I do say so myself!), and we went to meet Mrs. Trotman, the English professor who saved me the first few days that I was in Aix, at this performance. Joanna, the Spanish assistant, had to cancel on us at the last minute, so in the end only Chris, Lucy, and I went.
The woman singing, billed as a "mezzo-soprano" was Laura Trotman, Mrs. Trotman's daughter. Her pianist was apparently fairly well renowned, although, not being from the world of French music, I was unsurprisingly unfamiliar with him. That said, the performance was spectacular.
The venue was quite nice as well. Upon arrival, it appeared as though it was an art gallery; there were pieces of art made by children expressing a love for Paris hanging in the front room. Through the door in the back, however, was a very intimate performance space. I don't know how many American fire codes we violated, but I can assure that if the place had caught fire, you probably wouldn't be reading this today. The theatre was packed, and Laura Trotman performed for well over an hour. The only songs I was familiar with before going were "La Vie en Rose" and "Rien de Rien," which are the two most famous Piaf songs, but there were several others that I enjoyed at least as much if not more than those.
After the performance, Mrs. Trotman invited the three of us back to her home for drinks and snacks and what I would call a "cast party." It was nice until a man began lecturing the room fairly loudly on how the modern music schools (like the one Laura had attended in London) don't teach singers how to properly pronounce their vowels. Laura maintained a very good level of dignity in responding to him, said that she had chosen to sing jazz and musical theatre more than classical music, and then let him continue his lecture without making more of a scene. I, personally, was offended, and would not invite this man to my party.
I felt slightly out of place in a room full of French adults and academics, but overall the experience was quite enjoyable. I loved the performance, I have really appreciated what Mrs. Trotman has done for me since I've gotten to Aix, and I was honored to be invited back into her home after being invited to a performance of her daughter's.
We got back in fairly late, I talked to some people back home, and eventually went to bed.
Sundays, as I have said before, are good resting days. I woke up late, went into town to have lunch - and had a delicious pizza at a restaurant in town - and went over to Cezanne where some of the other assistants live to hang out and fiddle around on the internet for most of the afternoon.
I feel like my concept of money differs from that of my peers. Or perhaps it's that I allot my money in different ways by habit. I feel like, if I'm going to spend my money on something, I want to spend it on food and travel. As such, I want to eat good food and see cool places. It is hard to find friends who want to eat out on a regular basis, and when we do go out, they see menus with a 12€ average meal and want to look somewhere else for dinner. I see a menu with a 12€ average meal and think, "Oh, that seems reasonable."
I'm probably the crazy one here.
Michelle fixed me a grilled cheese sandwich over at Cezanne for dinner; it was tasty, and we eventually came back home and crashed. It did rain, as it does on Sundays, but it looked like it wasn't going to rain most of the day. In Murphy's fashion, I think it actually started right before we started walking home, but it only really ever drizzled, so that was okay.
Today, I had a class at Campra at 10, which was fun. The kids were 13 or so years old and there were a lot of them. They speak English about as well as I speak French, but it seems like all of the French people speak English at least as well as I speak French, so I wasn't that surprised. We talked about Halloween, and I took them "Halloween" candy. (Again, an allotment of funds that people look at me like I'm crazy for doing). The French don't celebrate Halloween, so the candy was really what I could find at the store that was individually wrapped; I would have loved a pack of Reese's cups (which Chris had never heard of when I mentioned them to him yesterday. I know what I'm bringing back after Christmas!) or a pack of Tootsie Rolls, but they don't seem to exist here.
After that, I hustled back over to Vauvenargues, because Mrs. Trotman had asked Chris and me to cover a class for her at 11. One of her relatives passed away, and she needed to go to the funeral. I got back around ten after, and we kept the class busy and somewhat vocal for the better part of the hour.
For lunch, Chris and I walked down into town and ate at the "Pasta-to-Go" place and then went down and got a baguette from a boulangerie (bakery). At one, I went to choir, which was quite an entertaining experience. I went last Friday to talk to the music professor, who gave me several pieces of sheet music and told me to come to the Chapel on Monday at 1. The program they are working on has a loose "film noir" theme, and one of the songs is "From Russia with Love."
Now, I know the song, and you most likely know the song, but to hear a room full of French people sing, in English, "frum Roossia wees luf" is really more entertaining than it should be. It almost makes me hesitate to teach music in other languages to students in the future. They are also singing another piece in yet a third language, and it is both fun and pretty. I believe I will continue to go, although I won't be able to perform in the final "spectacle" in the spring, since I will be home before it occurs.
After choir, I came back to my room, snuggled under my comforter and started browsing the internet. Being warm and snuggly made me sleepy, so I took a nap. Now that I'm up and have skyped with my dad and made this post, I think I'm going to go over to the canteen for dinner. I don't have class until 2 tomorrow, and I don't know what I'll do in the morning. Perhaps I will go with Lucy down to a shop by the gare, or perhaps not.
I'm thrilled to keep hearing reports of healthy, sleepy, teeny-tiny babies in Atlanta, and as Dad told me, Mom pointed out that I'll be home for Christmas in two months. I can't wait to see Allie and Harper (and of course, Michael and Kakhi... But really Allie and Harper)!
As always, I love hearing reports from you guys, so feel free to drop me a line any time! Things are well here, and I hope they are there also.
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