Zurich and other adventures – brace yourself, it’s another long one

I’m incapable of not commenting on this stories since I’m re-reading them for the first time in over 5 years, so please bear with my 2008 comments, which I will try to remember to put in Italics, so you can identify them. I have also decided to stick to the original titles from my emails at the time, which may, at times, seem out of place.

On Friday, as had been semi-planned, I headed to Zurich to meet up with my friend Dave from Laurier, who was there visiting friends (Hi Dave!). Despite some technical difficulties getting in touch with him the day of, Aimee (American) and I decided to head out without his contact info, having left him my portable number, and (of course) having brought my portable along. Being in no rush to get moving (I wasn’t expecting to hear from Dave until the evening), we took are sweet time getting to the train sta tion in Mulhouse, stopping downtown for doner kebabs…

I’m amused to see that I called it a portable. Damn French influence. This refers to a cell phone, or (because I now waffle between 3 names, a mobile). I am happy to report that I have not picked up the amusing German name: “Handy”, but that may be because I still, after all this time, am a long way from having a conversation in German.

brief note on doner kebabs…I’d like to thank Dave (different Dave) for introducing me to doner kebabs just before I left Canada…Salim and Rachele re-introduced me to them here at a great little Turkish restaurant, and now I am totally addicted (as is Aimee now…she started later, but she’s got it worse!).

Anyhow, after doner kebabs, we strolled through Place de la Reunion (the main part of dowtown) stopping on the way for crepes. Unfortunately, it seems that my favourite crepe stand is only there on weekends, so I had to settle for a competitor. We finally made our way to the train station, but then had to wait a half hour for the next train. By 5:30 we were actually en route. We arrived in Bale, Switzerland (or so we thought) around 6:00, but Aimee noted that there were two stations in Bale, an d that we wanted the second one, as that had been the case the last time she had taken the train. I observed that I was lucky she was there, because I would have gotten off the train there, and had a long walk to the next station.

Thanks to non-French influences, I rarely still refer to Basel as Bâle when I speak English, and often wonder if it wouldn’t be worth changing the names of all cities and countries in all languages to their actual name in the countries actual language(s). A bit of a lofty idea, but the world has shrunk enough that I think it would make a lot of sense.

In a twist of irony, about ten minutes later the train started heading back in the direction of Mulhouse. We asked another traveller, and he explained that we were in Bale, France, and that you had to get off the train, cross the border on foot, and catch another train on the Swiss side to get to Zurich. I think I was more disappointed by the fact that I hadn’t actually crossed the border when I thought I had, than I was that we were heading in the wrong direction (I hadn’t heard from Dave yet anyway, so there was no rush).

We checked the schedule to see when the next train would be passing through St. Louis (the next stop) going back in the direction of Bale: 6:17. The time was now 6:17. A minute later we saw the train pass (we were almost at St Louis), and found that the next train wasn’t due until 7:03. We got off the train, and crossed to the other platform…where the sign said that the next train was due at 6:17. We hoped this meant that it had not yet arrived, but a few minutes later the signed updated itself. Aimee spent much of our wait being frustrated with herself (because had she not been there I would actually have gotten off at the right station) but I we laughed it off, and I assured her that it was just amusingly ironic, and nothing to worry about. Just before 7:00, announcements were made that the 7:03 train would be late. It finally arrived a little over 5 minutes late, and we were once again on our way towards Switzerland…just hoping that they didn’t come by to check tickets.

We finally got back to Bale, and crossed the border. I was once again disappointed (as I was when I arrived in France) that nobody checked my passport…according to my passport, I haven’t even left Canada. We got over to the Swiss side, and checked the next train…another half hour wait. We strolled around the duty free for a while to kill time and keep warm (it was colder in Switzerland than in France…you know, like the wall of snow that starts at the Canada/US border?). We finally caught our train, and even managed to get one of the more private 6-seat rooms. Unfortunately we were soon joined by another passenger, but it was still a first for me. Upon arriving in Zurich, we cruised around the train station in search of a map that might indicate where the youth hostel was. Since all the tourist booths and such were closed, we decided not to bother with the hostel and just stay up all night. After all, we would be going out with Dave anyway, plus internet reviews described it as one of the most expensi ve and yet worst of the hostels in Europe.

Fortunately, the train station had internet access (at 0,50 Swiss Francs a minute, but access nonetheless) so I was able to keep track of my email. Having nothing new from Dave, Aimee and I set out to explore Zurich, trying constantly to stay oriented relative to the train station for when Dave called. We walked around for a while, taking in the sights, and trying to remember what stores we wanted to return to in the morning when everything was open. Around 10:00 we came across a Chinese restaurant that looked good, and decided that with the money we were saving not staying in the hostel we figured we could eat well. The food there was fantastic, and we were there (much to the servers’ dismay) until they closed at 11:00. With a full stomach, but fatigue setting in (we had both shorted ourselves on sleep the night before after another night at the ESV) we headed back to the train station to check my email. Still nothing from Dave, and no phone call, so we used the online (free) tourist services to find out what bars and such were open latest so we knew where we could hang out. With some research we found a street where there seemed to be at least of few that were open until 2:00 or later, so we set off to find it. It ended up being even better then we thought, being full of bars, pubs and dessert-type restaurants. When we heard Beach Boys playing at one bar, we decided we’d found our first stop. I noticed Sangria on the drink menu, and though we decided to avoid alcohol for the night, I haven’t had that since Dave, Kim and Brendan introduced me to it in Montreal shortly before I left (thanks guys!), so it seemed like a safe bet. Unfortunately it was nothing like the ones we had in Montreal. We took our time, listening to a very interesting mix of music, and eventually left in search of another place to pass some time.

First we did some more exploring, walking farther up the pedestrian street we were on, and back down. We were overjoyed to find a candy store that sold Dr. Pepper (a favourite of both Aimee and neither of us have seen since we left North America) and made a mental note to come back in the morning. After a while (around 3:00), we tired more and stopped at a restaurant that was open until 4:00 for some apple strudel. It took us no time to finish it off, but we were both struggling to keep ou r eyes open. We headed back to the train station to check my email again, and ponder how we were going to stay awake. With still no word from Dave, we gave up, but having nowhere else to go, decided to tour the rather large, sprawling train station. Unfortunately (and perhaps to prevent what we were doing) it was as cold in the train station (on all three levels) as it was outside…about -15. We would sit down for a while, but soon had to get up and move around to warm up. We discussed how lucky we we re to have extra clothes, and imagined what it would be like to live like that.

There weren’t too many people around the station, but we felt quite safe seeing the troop of security guards pass regularly (while they probably wondered what we were doing there). Since trains run constantly in and out of that station there’s was always somebody to watch, or something to think about. Around 5:00 we ducked into a photo booth, and for some unexplicable reason (okay, it can be easily explained by our exhausted state of mind) we got 16 identical photos of ourselves. To try to just ify it, the photo booths here don’t allow seperate poses for each frame, and they all come in a square; you just choose between 16 tiny photos or 4 regular photo booth size photos…I just can’t justify why we opted for 16…

After that, we found a painted wooden bench (unlike the wire benches every where else), in a corner that seemed slightly warmer than the others, and decided to wait there, as there was a Marche Lino nearby that would open at 6:30…our planned breakfast. We settled down and wrote the postcards we had bought, and just generally tried to stay awake.

Around 6:00 we heard someone singing an American song (although to this day neither can remember what song it was) as he came around the corner. A tall, rather handsome, guy came around the corner, Smirnoff Ice in hand, and stopped, obviously surprised to see us. He said something to us (presumably in Swiss German) and we looked at him dumbfounded, shaking our heads. He then asked “English? Francais? Espanola?” at which point we stopped him to say English. His English was actually quite good, and we conversed easily. He asked where we were from, and we told him, US and Canada. We continued to speak for a little while, and he started talking how nice and warm his coat was, and tried to remember what it was made of. At this point, he looked at me and apologized because “I do not speak Canadian.” Wow. Ignorance really is bliss.

At least to drunk Swiss guys.

Anyway, he dug through his inside coat pockets, pulling out sunglasses, keys (apparently to his 5 star hotel) and a few other items, before finally finding what he was looking for; the tag for his coat. He ripped it out, and read to us what it was made of. He then tried to make a mental note of the washing instructions, before leaving the tag on the table. At this point, he realized that the friend he was with had still not caught up. He told us that his friend was a model for Versace (“do you know Versace?”) and that he was a model for…this…pointing at the Gucci logo on his sunglasses. Okay, yes he was drunk, and perhaps completely full of himself, but he could easily have been a Gucci model; he definitely had “the look”. He invited us for coffee and a chocolate croissant at the cafe that we were sitting next to, which would open at 7:00. He told us that he would pay, and that if we did not show up, he would never forget it. My guess is that he had forgotten about it the minute he walked away.

Finally 6:45 rolled around, and, after walking around a bit more, we headed to the Marche Lino for what would be a small but expensive (and delicious) breakfast. Unfortunately we were faced with our first major language barrier (up to that point everyone we met spoke English – although not French which I thought odd for Switzerland) when Aimee tried to order an omelette. Fortunately, another employee spoke some English and we were able to sort it out. We stayed in the warmth of the Marche for quite some time, before again braving the cold, but excited about the prospect of seeing the sun.

I have since heard that the German-speaking Swiss often refuse obstinately to learn French, and the French-speaking Swiss refuse obstinately to learn German, but I don’t know how much truth there is to that, and it doesn’t even take into consideration the Italian- and Romansh-speaking Swiss.

We headed out the first exit we found, and decided to walk around the outside of the station (we’d been inside it long enough) until we found the main street where all the stores we wanted to visit were. Unfortunately this resulted in us getting quite lost, although, as Aimee pointed out “We’re not lost, but we can see it from here.” With some luck, and what logic we were still capable of, we found the train station again, but were completely confused as to why we could not find the main street; we had s uccessfully toured the outside of the entire station, but somehow missed it. We finally figured out that where we had come out was one small block from where we had wanted to be, but having not been there before, we had no idea, and had headed in the opposite direction. We located Swatch (so Aimee could buy her sister a watch) and a bakery to find the pretzel croissant things that I had tried at the Marche and fallen in love with (sadly the ones I bought at the bakery weren’t as good).

It was now around 10:30am, so I thought Dave might have tried emailing, so we made yet another trip back to the station. With no new messages from him, and no energy, we decided to catch the next train home; 11:09. I found a post office, send my cards, and we hopped on the train. Within 15 minutes we were both fast asleep, waking just before we reached Bale. We crossed back across the border, and hopped on a train (that was leaving within just a few minutes) for Mulhouse. Around St. Louis, my phone beeped, telling me I had 3 new messages. It was then that my fear was confirmed; my phone didn’t get service in Switzerland (although friends of mine had had no trouble in the past…apparently I had to sign up for that in addition…). Sure enough, Dave had called at 9:00pm, 10:00pm and 11:25am. In his last message, he said he would try emailing. If we had just missed the train, or remember to go to any of the stores we had so wanted to the night before, we would have actually caug ht him. I gave him a quick call to explain the situation, but it was too late to do anything about it. Nonetheless, it was an adventure.

Upon arriving home, I was up for a few minutes, being generally angry about the situation, before I finally went for a nap around 2:30…it was the best sleep I’ve had since I got to Europe. At 7:30 I got up, and we made plans to go out. At 9:25pm, Aimee and I were startled by my room shaking. We soon realized that we had both just experienced our first earthquake. When we got to O’Bryan’s, friends that we were meeting there expressed their disappointment that they hadn’t felt it. I was a little worried about the stability of Batiment A, but we passed a good evening nonetheless. I’ve since heard that the only place that there was any real concern was an apartment building in Colmar that had to be evacuated, although apparently the earthquake was felt over an unusually large area.

The next day was Sunday; rugby day. Although they play every weekend (every other weekend in Mulhouse) I hadn’t been to a match since the first one, so a few of us decided to head over. It was a good match; the score was closer, and the weather was absolutely beautiful (Mulhouse was about 20 degrees warmer than Zurich). The post game party was much quieter, but a few of us still made it to the Salsa Cafe for dinner. (The Salsa Cafe is one of the team sponsors). The food was absolutely delicious, and we h ad a good time, but called it a night early.

Last night (Monday) we finally made it back to Murphy’s; the bar they took me to the night I arrived, that I had been unable to find, or convince people to go to since. It was a quiet night, but I am finally getting the opportunity to integrate my French friends with my other foreign friends, and we had a good time. The latest crush of one of my foreign friends also showed up unexpectedly, so it was a good night for all.

Well, I’ve probably forgotten other amusing parts of my trip (I can’t even begin to explain how tired we were), but the trip there and the Gucci model were the bits that will always stick out most in my mind.

Now, to follow up on a couple of things…

The window things are apparently a precaution put in place since the second world war (thanks Sammi)…I find it even funnier then that Batiment A doesn’t have them…it’s old and decrepit, but it’s not that old! I guess they don’t worry too much about the people that are willing to live in such buildings

And as to energy efficiency, the Swiss aren’t too dumb either…they don’t even bother to heat the train station (okay, that comment was made purely out of bitterness) but more interestingly, the escalators in the train station shut off when not in use, and turn on again when someone steps on the metal section at the bottom (on an up escalator) or the top (on a down escalator).

And, photos; I have started working on a geocities (yahoo) site, but am currently having difficulties because I don’t speak HTML, and the computers here are set up so I can’t download the tool that would allow me to set it up without knowing HTML. A friend has offered the use of his computer, but I don’t see him often, and I don’t feel right just calling him up to ask a favour. I am currently working on minimizing file sizes so I can get all the photos uploaded to the site itself, but the real barrier is getting them from the back-end of the site to the actually page.

So, that’s the latest…I’m currently on vacation, which is nice, with another 2 weeks vacation coming up at Easter (I love Europe). Now that I’ve finally got this story out, I will try to respond to all these emails I’ve been getting over the past week. Sorry ’bout the delay! It is fantastic to hear from you though; I love knowing what’s going on back home…in particular hearing about the snow storm made me smile (since it’s about 15 degrees today and gorgeous!). Yeah, I know I’m a jerk, but somet hing’s got to make up for freezing my butt off at the Zurich train station!

I miss you guys lots!

ps. I’ve actually really adapted to being called Ezzere; I think I’ll even miss it!

Ezzere, I later realized, isn’t quite the way most people pronounce it (although some do), I’m more commonly Ezzeur, but also Haeter (particularly with real Alsatans), Header (ok, I only got that once, at least in writing, from a Spanish client: so my partner in crime on that project agreed to be Footer), and many more that I cannot even begin to try spelling.

Hey! Long time no see!

Sorry it’s been a while…since my ski trip, it’s been fairly quiet…that is not to say that I don’t go out anymore, just that I haven’t done much that is particularly different or particularly noteworthy.

In terms of school (riiiight, that’s what I came for…) I have finally decided on my courses, and have attended all those I plan to take. Apparently I have the option as to whether or not to take a grade in each though, or just get a certificate of attendance. I have yet to make final decisions on that, but nonetheless…my course load seems relatively normal; more or less equivalent to what I had at Laurier, but I am still confused as to what a normal course load looks like for a normal student here; I was led to believe it was quite heavy, but it seems to be little different from what I’m used to.

So…Monday’s I have History of law 2-5 (which has, as yet, discussed only the history of the press, so I’m a little confused).

Tuesday’s are a bit rough, with Geostrategy 2-5 (an interesting political/business view of the world) and Italian 5-7 (I’m guessing that the words my Italian friends teach me are not those that I should use in conversation, so it seemed like a good idea…it’s surprisingly similar to French, and taught much the way I learned French in the first place, so I’m really enjoying it.).

While I did finish the year (or, in my case 4 months) of Italian, I later shifted to Spanish and German, but I do plan to come back to Italian at some point! I never had any desire to go beyond French, but now I can’t seem to get enough (but am continually frustrated by my slow progress!).

Wednesday is my only early morning, with international marketing 9-12 (taught, rather unfortunately, downtown at the ESV…not the bar part in case you were wondering).

Thursday I have European and International Business Law, 2-5, which is something of a challenge. Like in History of law, the prof simply dictates everything he – in the case of history – wants us to write down. The other students complain he talks to fast to write everything down…now try doing it in a language other than your first language! Somebody needs to tell these people the wonders of PowerPoint, and publishing lectures online! Oh how I miss that!

Friday I have informatique from 2-4. This course is a joke…They are learning Word and Excel – seemed like a good idea to me at the time – but since they don’t use computers anywhere near as much as we do at home, they are learning stuff that we learned just from using the software. Here most assignments are handed in hand-written…I don’t remember the last time I didn’t type an assignment. Nonetheless, I have learned a few new things, and the course is very helpful for vocabulary, since the software is (of course) in French.

Overall, I’ve really lucked out; I have 3 classes with the same group of people, who are really nice, and really helpful. One of the girls has offered to let me photocopy her class notes, and I was invited to the class pre-vacation party last week, where I got to know a few people better.

As exciting as school is, I’m sure you’re wondering how my social life has been holding up, with all these courses getting in the way and all! Well, I went out with my class last Thursday, and got to know a few a little better. I was even invited to one girl’s birthday party (Coralie) that Saturday, but had too much on my plate. I decided not to go to Italy, when there were too many people going (they were renting a car) and I had other things I could be doing…plus they left at 5am on Friday morning, and I was going out with my classmates Thursday night. Sadly, I missed quite a party at the ESV on Thursday (so I hear) but you can’t win ‘em all! Saturday I had 3 parties to choose between, but was pre-committed to my friend, Xavier’s, birthday. It was a good time, but I found that me and my friends (you know, us foreigners) tended to stick together, while Xavier’s friends (from high school etc; all French) tended to stick together. Overall it was fun, but quiet. I had also planned on seeing a hockey game, but when we found out tickets were 10 Euros each, the friend I was with bailed out on me. I have since learned that other friends around here can get cheap/free tickets, so I’ll have to exploit that avenue another time.

A couple of days ago, I hit the one month mark. In many ways it seems like it’s been so much longer, since I’ve felt completely at home since the day I arrived. On the other hand, I can’t believe a quarter of my stay is almost up, and that I’m so close to coming home. I’ve been so lucky to have such great friends here, and I haven’t felt at all homesick (although I definitely miss non-smoking bars/restaurants). Anytime I think it might be creeping up on me, I have no problem finding someone to talk to, or something to do.

Anyway, a couple of random observations before I sign off…

We could really learn from the French…the windows here are just so much more practical; they open 2 different ways! Okay, so the windows in my residence don’t; big suprise there, but most do; there is a handle, which if turned horizontal opens the windows sideways, and if turned vertical opens the window at the top, so that it leans inwards. (this makes more sense when you see it). They’re great! They also have really cool blinds (again, not in my residence) that are like garage doors; they open and close from the inside, but they’re on the outside…so they protect the windows. It’s pure genius! Neither of these can be that expensive since I see them absolutely everywhere too…perhaps it’s all the money they save on not having screens on the windows! It’s a strange detail, but it’ll be particularly nice in the spring being able to open the window, without a screen, and still not worry about insects getting in!

Lighting is also a source of savings here; really, we waste waaaaay too much money back home. Lights in the hallways, bathrooms (even in teaching buildings) must be turned on when you enter, and many shut themselves off after a certain amount of time. I’ve also seen lights that come one when you enter (it was a public washroom) and shut off when you leave. I’m just amazed at the ways we could be saving money on energy costs (and don’t even get me started – again – on the size of cars and fuel efficiency! ). In some ways it is more expensive to live in Europe, but they’re just so much smarter about how to live efficiently, it’s time we took notice!

Well, enough ranting, I’ll talk to you all soon!

Random thoughts from France

Calling internationally…
Sorry guys, evidently I got the whole international calling system all wrong. To call me here, first you have to dial 011 (from Canada) then 33 (for France) then 6 (the region code for cell phones in France) then my number. If you’re not calling from Canada…well, I just don’t know. You need to know the country code where you’re calling from. Good thing Lianne knows what she’s doing! I got a message from her (in England) within a half hour of my last email! (Kev; if you want to try sending another text message, hopefully this’ll work!) If I’m still wrong on this, I apologize in advance, and will let you know as soon as I get it figured out for real.

I had forgotten about my confusion around this. Since I’ve figured out (at least for Europe and North America: in Europe 00 gets you onto an international like, in Canada and the US 011 does the same) it seems so obvious, but I find interesting that in many countries in Europe a 0 is the first digit in all numbers, but that 0 is only used when call from within the same country. As if 0 gets you onto a national line, and 00 an international one…actually, when I put it that way, it kinda makes since. Perhaps I’ll stop thinking out loud here.

Driving
Renault and Peugeot seem to be just about the only cars that exist in France; although I have seen a Ford now and then. Can somebody please explain to me why someone who can afford a foreign car would buy a Ford???

The answer? They are not the same Fords as in North America. These are engineered and built in the good old Union of Europa. Other than Ford I’ve see a few American cars, a few more Japanese, but French, followed by other European brands are the clear winners here. Hey, I drive a Peugeot, and the cars of the people closest to me are all Peugeot, Renault, Citroën, and Volkswagen.

Carbonated beverages
I’m starting to understand why pop isn’t terribly popular here (besides the health implications). People don’t seem to drink much period. I seem to be the only person that regularly has a glass of something with lunch or dinner… It doesn’t help that a can of pop is smaller here, and significantly more expensive (0,90 Euro for 330mL).

But there are the health implications. For at least a year or two now, all advertisements for pop, junk food (including cereal), and fast food restaurants include some message about not eating too much sugar or salt, or else about eating 5 fruits and vegetables, or getting proper exercise…and link to a website (I love this) called MangerBouger, which is run but the Ministry of Health, Youth, and Sports (loose translation, since “sport” used in French can be translated as “exercise” or as “sports” depending on the context). I think that this is really cool. Ads running during kids shows, for the same products, have a clearly kid-oriented way of presenting their health-related messages (with a kid voice and/or animated characters). Obesity is France is a long way from being the problem that it is in other countries, but as soon as it looked like it might start becoming one, this is the sort of thing that was implemented, and I think it’s really amazing.

I’m keeping this one short, ’cause I wanted to correct my contact information as soon as I found out I got it wrong. I also want to spend some time while I’m actually online trying to get a website set up, so you guys can get at my photos soon.

A question for anyone that can help me out…

Hey guys,

Before I launch into my latest…a question….

Does anybody know of any free websites with a whole lot of space so I can post my pictures (even just in zip format or something so you guys can grab them, and so I know that they make it to Canada before I delete them).

Alrighty…I’ve been advised (thanks Dave) that accents don’t actually show up properly, so I’m abandoning any accents (stupid anglo computers!).

Now, first off, I finally have a phone number!!!! Having been able to save a ton of money on rent (staying in the condemned building and all), I decided to buy a cell phone…sadly it won’t work in Canada, but you can’t win em all.

(Side note…Sasha; it’s an Alcatel phone, you think you can get me a rebate? Ahhhh nothing like a little wishful thinking).

So, the number is 00.33[...] Or, if you happen to be in France (hey, you never know) it’s 06[...]. It seems like nobody actually talks on their phones though; text messaging is way cheaper, and everyone that has a portable has it. It’s really cool.

So…what have I been up to since last week? Well, I learned to ski! After a 10-something year break (thanks to a fall I’ll never forget), I actually tried skiing again, and it wasn’t nearly so difficult as I remember it. I even had to leave the beginners class because I was getting so frustrated with them – I get the feeling half of them had never seen snow before, so the thought of skiing was significantly more challenging for them…I’m sure this will surprise some of you more than others (ahem, Dave…I believe is the appropriate symbol right about now).

As a result, walking up the hill to school Friday was painful at best, but I think that all the walking I’ve been doing has helped significantly…very soon I’ll be in the best shape ever, and I’m eating like a queen to boot (thanks in large part to the number of Italians that live in my building…I believe Andrea is making his own homemade pizza tonight…mmmm).

Other than skiing, I’ve been doing mostly the same sort of thing; going downtown and or grocery shopping almost every day, and hanging out with various people every night. We (the exchange students) are really make a name for ourselves for that. Saturday about 10 of us showed up at the ESV, and there were only 4 other people there (at least one of which were working). They then proceeded to call several friends in order to liven things up a little. What can I say…maybe us foreigners do know how to have fun more than the Mulhouse rugby team…we just choose different methods…

So, I’ve always thought that among the certainties in life were death, taxes, and that milk needs to be refrigerated. Well, I know that medicine is working on the first, and right-wing politics on the second, but I didn’t think anyone would mess with the third. One of my first (food-related) challenges here was getting over the fact that milk here doesn’t have to be refrigerated until it’s been opened…this is a major stumbling block for me. Next was to find milk that didn’t leave an after taste. “partly skimmed milk” here tastes nothing like in Canada, and I was really having trouble forcing myself to drink it. I finally got my hands on skimmed milk, which actually tastes like 2%, so the crisis has been averted.

I’ve also finally adapted to this idea that there are no lights on rond-points, and pedestrians are to just walk across and expect the cars to stop (if you don’t try to walk across, they won’t stop). Thankfully, it seems like the brakes on cars here are significantly more effective…very important since they don’t brake until the very last minute. On the topic of cars, I tried to explain, the other night, that people make fun of small cars, and that my friends have always had a good laugh at the expense of the Justy. Here, though, the Justy would be among the bigger cars on the road. This was a tough concept for them to wrap their heads around. It seems like just about everything is smaller here. I found Ritz crackers here (under a different brand name – go figure), but the largest boxes are about 1/2 the size of a regular box back home…just one of those odd things. My thought is that Costco would be very successful here…

Actually, it probably wouldn’t: a lot people think I’m crazy for buying in bulk, but a few understand, and every few months the nearest major grocery store installs a large tent in the parking lot from which they sell a bunch of stuff in silly quantities and I get my fix. Lucky for me, I now have a basement too, in which to store the ridiculously large packs of paper towel, toilet paper, Kleenex and various cleaning products I buy on those occasions.

Well, before I drone on too much, I should head home. Andrea has invited us all to Italy this weekend (how weird does that sound?) and he should have found out today if he can get Friday off work so we can go.

The rugby match (director’s cut)

I had completely forgotten about this one, which I had purposely written separately, since I wasn’t sure how certain readers (hi parents!) would take it. At the time I was mildly embarrassed (if amused!) by it, but now I’m just amused, so here it is.

January 26th

Who knew a 2-hour rugby game could become a 12-hour party? Okay, Cynthia; you probably did, but I think it’s fairly safe to say that none of your teams have partied the way the Mulhouse rugby club does sometimes…

It all started when a bunch of us went to see Matteo (Italian) play in a rubgy match. We spent 2 hours freezing our butts off (yeah, yeah, I know it’s at about 20-30 degrees colder in the Toronto area, but still), during which time the 10+ of us cheered for Matteo at just about every play (and there were many in favour of Mulhouse; they won 60-something to nothing). After the match, Matteo suggested we head over to the rugby club beside the field, where the team goes after every match for a few drinks. T he club provided sausages and bread and french fries, and the players paid for most drinks. The most anybody paid was 1 Euro for a cup of tea to warm up when we first arrived.

After the food, and a few drinks (they were mostly drinking pastis out of beer steins…so “a few drinks” their way would probably have put me in the hospital), the music started, and music of all types (largely American, but also French and Italian) played for the following 4 hours. When the music was Italian, Matteo was more or less required to sing (a ritual almost, being that he is the only Italian on the team) including a love sing which he sang on a table with his girlfriend Antonella (also Italian ). Later came a French favourite (“Tombez la chemise”; effectively; take off your shirt) during which the lyrics consist entirely of the same line). This was played 3 times consecutively; during which all the men there (rugby players or otherwise) lost their shirts, involuntarily in many cases. By the third repetition, some of the players had lost more than their shirts, but dignity (or what was left of it) prevailed, and underwear stayed intact (except of 2 of the players who got up on a table to moon everyone). Never in my life have I seen anything like it.

When pants were pulled back up, and shirts retrieved, the music continued, only to result in two of the largest players picking on two of the smallest females (myself and Rachele) for more entertainment. We were literally tossed back and forth, much to the amusement of my friends, who took pictures (with my camera). We were spun around, hung upside down, and there is more than one picture of me in typical fireman carries…The guy that picked on me, Fred (also known as biftèk), is a firefighter with aspirations of immigrating to Canada. He was very excited about the opportunity to discuss Canada with a real live Canadian. Meanwhile, Tibo (another player, possible spelled Thibeau) kept pointing out that Fred was a dinosaur (built big, but with a little tiny brain…it’s ten times funnier the way he said it in French). Every time Fred said anything to me, Tibo leaned forward to whisper “dinosaur!” or “tout petit cerveau!”. It was too funny.

I had forgotten about my inability to spell his name – there are actually several spellings: Thiebaut, Thibault, Thiebaud, Thibault, … This particular one is a Thibault

After four hours at the club, we (the non players plus Matteo) headed back to the residence for spaghetti…I gotta say, Rachele makes the best pasta without really doing anything spectacular. (Imagine that; an Italian that knows how to cook pasta) and she loves cooking for as many people as possible.

Several of us ended up going to the Salsa…upon arrival of the first 4 of us, Fred grabbed me by the waist from where he was sitting. I excused myself to the washroom, and talked to other people when I returned. I guess he got the picture, because he wouldn’t say a word to me the rest of the night. It being Sunday, many of them left around 10 or so, as did most of my friends. A few of us stuck it out later, during which time the bartender gave us all shots of some liqueur I’ve never heard of, but to make it more interesting; flambé. They came with plastic straws, which, she specified, were not to be left in the glasses to melt. (No kidding!).

I have since discovered that this is one of about two common shooters, and don’t even get me started on the lack of cocktail knowledge here.

Anyway, this was among the most entertaining of days so far, and I don’t just mean on my trip. It was just too funny.

Well, I hope you’re all enjoying my stories…this one is told so much better in person, but email will have to suffice for now, being that I don’t know if I’ll ever have a phone while I’m here.

Despite all the fun, you know I miss you guys tons.

Week 2…up to today! I caught up!

Note: There is another address change, but it’s all a part of the story…it’s at the bottom

January 26th
The rugby match…you wouldn’t think that would sum up the whole day, but it does. A bunch of us went to watch Matteo (an Italian who plays on the Mulhouse team) play rugby. Mulhouse destroyed the other team, 60-something to nothing, and followed the game up with 4 hours of partying at the rugby club (food provided by the club, drinks for all paid for mostly by the players), then a trip to a café/bar type place that lasted anywhere between 1 and several hours for different people. At the club, they even had a draw of some kind, and a DJ came later to play some music. It was very….unique. Matteo was a very popular guy that day/night, having drawn as many spectators as the rest of both teams combined. We had such a great time.

January 27th
The Americans are having a much harder time meeting people, because they live in the other cité universitaire (at the top of the hill…right by my faculty in fact) where people don’t seem nearly as open and welcoming as where I live. At this point, I started really dreading the fact that I had been told that I had to move into a studio (having asked to stay to save the money, and to be able to continue seeing everybody all the time), although at least my studio would be just in the next building.

January 28th
My first class had it’s ups and downs. Géostratégie is taught by the dean (who I’d already met, and who is super nice). I, not knowing how things tended to work, arrived in the class first, and took a seat in the 2nd of 5 rows…Everybody else then proceeded to take the seats in the 3rd and 4th, leaving the 5th empty, and me alone. For the first time since I arrived, I felt really self-conscious, but at the break one of the girls (whose name I still don’t know) started talking to me. Later in the class, the prof struggled to pronounce an English acronym, and looked to me for help. It was then that he introduced me to the class. After that, people seemed a little more open (maybe being “the Canadian” was less weird than being “the new kid sitting by herself”). (side note: I have now had several classes with them, and they seem to get nicer and nicer all the time…they are planning to go out next week after class, before the February break, so I’ll have a better chance of getting to know some actual French people! Aaaah, the parallels with Laurier deepen…)
I stopped at the CLOUS (the residence office) to find out about my studio, and they told me that I would have it February 3rd (Monday). Seems like a mundane detail, but you will soon understand why it’s important, and why the bureaucracy here is totally messed up…

January 29th
I decided to walk downtown, having no idea that it really isn’t that far. Downtown Mulhouse is really a typical European city I guess, and I can’t wait to see all of it, when it’s a bit warmer and I can really explore. Another night was spent at the Shamrock, and I discovered an interesting serving of beer…not for me of course; I don’t think I’ll ever develop a taste for beer, but nonetheless. I giraffe is a 2,5L serving, that is (as you can imagine) tall and skinny, and comes complete with a tap. It was just too cool to not mention…

January 30th
The weather here is amusingly unpredictable…like Waterloo, it’s one of those places where if you don’t like the weather; wait 15 minutes. I finally saw a bit of snow, but it was just flurries (much like the way it usually rains).
The night ended up being particularly late since our ride stood us up in both directions, and we got to the ESV late, and then had to walk home afterwards. (As a side note, I finally know what the ESV is, thanks to Aurélie – thanks Aurélie! – and to the fact that I now have a class there. The building (or cluster of buildings) was formerly l’Ecole Superieur de Vente, but has since amalgamated with UHA…I’m still not sure how they managed the whole hole-in-the-wall bar thing, but whatever).

January 31st
I miraculously got up in time for my 8am class…too bad they had changed it to 9am for that particularly day…and that the prof didn’t arrive until 9:15…It seems to be a pretty good course, but there is no way I can keep up the notes; I just can’t write that fast in French! The prof is very helpful though…he said I could get the lecture notes if I promised not to distribute them, and even recommended another course that might be of interest.

I met another anglophone! Alan is Scottish, and I just couldn’t bring myself to continue speaking French, because his accent is too much fun in English!

February 1st
After a long day walking around (and doing a little shopping) I took a nap to prep myself for the ESSAIM (one of the faculties) Gala. We were going at 11:30 (after the dinner), because Rachele and others were doing a Salsa demonstration. After much ordeal, we got there at midnight (including Rachele and a few other dancers) but they did the demo, and we had lots of fun…so much so that when I got home, it came as a total shock to me that it was 5:30am.

February 2nd
After not nearly enough sleep, Rachele, Olivia, Aurora and I took the bus to Riedisheim, a nearby town, for a carnival. It was one of the funniest parades I’ve ever seen. Just about every person in the parade had bags and bags of confetti to attack people with, and you could even buy bags to retaliate. Despite the rain, the parade went beautifully, and the streets were covered with confetti afterwards. When the buses fell through for us (they were on routes that we couldn’t find because o f the parade clean up), we ended up getting a ride back to Mulhouse with one of the witches, in a caravan of floats, who was towing the witch float (of course!). He told us about another (better) carnival in another nearby town in March, so the plans to go have been laid.

Being that it was to be my last night in Batiment A, and that we were exhausted, we stayed in for a girls’ night (my first night in since the moment I arrived!) and were in bed before midnight (for once!).

February 3rd
I tried to get my new keys, but apparently the studio had not yet been cleaned, so they told me to come back…

February 4th
Long story short (too late…I know) Evidently nobody at CLOUS has any idea what’s going on. I tried (again) to get my keys, and was told that my studio had been given to someone else, because I asked to stay. I was shocked; I was happy to stay, but they had told me that I wasn’t allowed! Anyway, that being sorted out, my address is

50 Bd Stoessel, chambre A409
68200 MULHOUSE
France

I’ve decided to leave this address in, because the building no longer exists, although it actually took several years before they stopped let foreign students suffer, and got around to tearint it down. Even though I stayed by choice (and because of the ridiculously significant price difference) the place went from bad to worse, and one Canadian a couple of years after me even ended up with bed bugs at one point!

February 5th
Today! I’m finally caught up! Matteo and Antonella are heading home to Italy tomorrow, so I’m on my way to a going away party. Apparently Matteo is coming back in a month, but any reason to through a party seems to be effective!

Now that we’re all caught up…I’ll talk to you in a month! Just kidding…I can quit with the journal type things now, and just tell you about things as they happen (within a few days anyways).

I hope everyone else well…thanks so much for the emails; I’m sorry it takes me so long to respond!

Yeah, so it still takes me forever and a year to respond to emails. Sigh.

Week 1

That first night (January 18th)

Having been invited out to Murphy’s, one of many English/Irish-type pubs around here, to join a group made up mostly of exchange students, I forfeited going to bed early in favour of meeting people, and despite having had a total of about 1 hour of sleep on the plane, I was in pretty good shape (perhaps because my body had failed to register that the clock was suddenly 6 hours ahead). It was here that I met Rachele, probably the most helpful and welcoming person I’ve met yet…you will hear her name often in the installments to come…

Day Two (January 19th)

Mélanie (the person in charge of all exchange students) invited my to a buffet lunch with a few others at a Chinese restaurant. It’s odd…the style of cooking is obviously the same, but in the buffet, there wasn’t a single dish that I recognized from Chinese restaurants in Canada. One of those things that you really don’t expect to change…

At this point, I was already so used to hearing French all the time. So much so that even when people speak to me in English, I always seem to respond in French. There is an Italian here, who arrived a few days before me (Andrea; a man’s name in Italian), who spoke no French at all when he arrived, and often tries using English when French fails him. I’ve found that when I do need to use English, saying the words with a French accent seems to get the message across better; particularly with names of actors and singers and such; you’d be amazed by the American influence, but because all movies here are dubbed (it’s almost impossible to find original format movies, regardless of how big and Hollywood they are) they never hear the names of the artists pronounced properly.

Day Three (January 20th)
I gave myself a tour of the campus today, and it’s similarities to Laurier frighten me a bit; from the size of the university, to the second tiny campus in a city not far away, to the fact that the main campus is built on a hill (my my residence at the bottom, and my faculty just past the top). The type of city is similar too…it’s fairly university-oriented (Europeans really treat their students well!), and about the same size as KW. There is also no shortage of pubs. The nearest one, the Shamrock, is the preference, since it’s very easy walking distance. I went for the second time that night.

January 21st
I’ve started sleeping really late, and going out every night. That night, we went to the ESV, a hole-in-the-wall bar, where beer is 1,50 Euros. It is apparently associated with the university somehow, but is (unfortunately) not on campus. I have plenty of pictures here, which I hope to send soon, since I’m about 20 photos away from filling the memory card on my camera (who knew taking 300 photos could be so easy!). I met Josh (the American that started here in September), and an American and a Canadian that teach English here.

January 22nd
After a trip to the arena across the street fell apart (to this day we haven’t been able to figure out why it was closed) we headed back to the ESV, which started to grow on me; the atmosphere, like everywhere else here, is really great, and the people are all really nice.

January 23rd
Peter (a Belgian) has a birthday party, in which about 30 people crammed into two tiny bedrooms in his residence, only to be locked in when quiet hours started. We were finally able to get the door unlocked, so that we could actually leave the building, when the guy who locked us in finally saw the logic that to stop the noise, letting us leave made a great deal of sense.

January 24th
I finally met the 3 “new” Americans, although they arrived 4 days before I did. We had lots of fun attempting to deal with the French bureaucracy that we have to fight for a few reasons. I also started trying to get a class schedule together. Fortunately, I don’t have to actually sign up to specific classes; I just have to go, and talk to the prof. For once the system is easier to work with here (although not terribly practical in the grand scheme of things).

January 25th
I went to Colmar today, a town about 30 minutes (and 3 Euros round-trip) from here by train. After seeing a few of the tourists sights (it will all look better in the spring) we stopped at a candy store on the way back to the train station. It was there that I saw the single most disturbing candy I have ever seen; “têtes des nègres”; black licorice candies in exactly the shape you might expect. I tried to explain to Christophe, Marianne and Peter (Belgian) and Olivia and Roxanna (Romanian ) that never in a million years would you find something like that in Canada.

After just missing the train we wanted (for the second time that day) we took the smallest train ever (just one car) to get home. It was really odd.

My outing for the night was to Nico’s (French) for dinner with a bunch of other people.
Two side notes: 1) people eat dinner a lot later here; 9:00 or 10:00 is perfectly normal. 2) While we tend to abbreviate names to one syllable, in French it’s generally two; Nico rather than Nick, Fredo, rather than Fred…just an odd little observation.

So that’s week one for you…at this point I’d managed to go out every night since I arrived, and every night met at least a few more people. Everybody is really great. Week two will follow shortly…then I can actually think more in the present, rather than catching you up on the past…