Braindump!!! (or la fuite des cerveaux?)

I'm having a hard time starting this entry because there's been an influx of information, images and ideas in my brain in the last two weeks. I'm still digesting it all. It didn't help to have mid-terms in that time frame; I had to process coherent thoughts about what I've been exposed to since the beginning of the semester. And I'm finding it harder and harder to organize my thoughts. I just want to read and absorb. I don't think I've ever spent as many hours absorbing information, opinions, accounts, reflections, reports, footage, maps, and images as I have in the past weeks.

Two weeks ago I was at Germain's apartment reading my favorite weekly the Courrier International when a thought-provoking subject presented itself to me and, within 10 mins of being exposed to I felt entirely hooked. There was a section devoted to refugee movements, featuring articles not only on the recent displacement of hundreds of thousands of Congolese but also on international migration more generally. I don't think I could explain to someone else a single idea from this one article by Raymond Depardon (photographer/director), but it was a total success because it sparked off a million little traces of thought through my brain. And none of them crossed paths somehow-no closure whatsoever! It's a neat experience to read something that leaves you speechless. This has been happening a lot to me lately. No closure necessary.

Raymond Depardon just produced a documentary on French rural life called La Vie Moderne. After reading his article, Germain and I decided the very next day to go see it. I had a very mixed reaction to it, because his article had excited all kinds of thoughts in my head about research topics I could have about trends in international human mobility. But his film contained calm, picturesque footage of the French countryside and very banal (but revealing) interviews with farmers--with emphasis on their attachment to their land. Their immobility. It was a total tease! And a real pleasure to watch. I'm not complaining at all. Like his article, it simply left me wanting to know more. Good thing there's an exposition on migrations that he and an essayist/urbanise named Paul Virilio just opened here in Paris.

A couple of days ago, Germain bought me a special report of Le Monde (a French daily) on international migrations, and I've already almost gulped down all 180 pages of articles, maps and graphs. It was stated in one of the articles on natural disaster refugees that Katrina displaced 780,000 'from New Orleans to Texas,' but this number sounds almost too large to be true. Maybe they meant from the region affected to Texas? In any case, I also learned that the Kurdish Cultural Center that Germain lives down the street from was the first center of its kind in the world. Speaking of the Kurds, one of the languages this people speaks is called zaza!

This is probably a long and boring entry but I felt like writing all this. So I'm still trying to narrow down a topic for my thesis, and I need to do it pretty soon because it's strategic to do so sooner than later, then adapt your class papers to fit into the theme. I'm flirting with ideas involving different factors related to (obviously) international displacements of people, international education, the concept of 'la fuite des cerveaux' or the phenomenon involving the departure of a poor country's brightest young people to go study/work in a rich country, exploring the main categories of international student mobility: 1)those travels undertaken voluntarily by students from rich, developed nations to other rich, developed nations, 2)those taken voluntarily by students from rich, developed nations to poor, developing nations), and 3)those taken necessarily by the richest or the brightest students from poor, developing nations to rich, developed nations because they deemed it their only chance for success.

There's an unusually high concentration of African students in France (46% of their foreign students in 2007 were from the African continent and not just the Maghreb). This isn't surprising considering colonial history. But is the phenomenon of 'la fuite des cerveaux' perpetuating the conditions of underdevelopment in these African countries? Do the African students return after their studies or do they stay? Do the North American and European students return after their studies or do they stay? I think a case study of France in whatever I'll write about would be interesting for many reasons. The French government invented the concept of 'diplomatie culturelle' or 'cultural diplomacy' which is part of their foreign policy that tries to improve French foreign relations through educational and cultural exchanges. How do 'core' nations perceive such an aggressive policy versus those nations in the 'periphery'?

Time to head to bed. I think I just needed to clear my head. It'd also help to turn off BBC because my head is swimming!

Strasbourg, and my top 3 reactions to the US election

Hello all, it's been a 'moment' since I last updated but better late than never. I was off of school last week for All Saint's Day and spent a couple of days in Strasbourg with Germain. Strasbourg is a small city in the Alsace-Lorraine region, right along the French-German border. We spent our days walking the city with little guide or information, in goal of discovering its various neighborhoods on happenstance, with no tourist-book inspired expectations, and always on an empty stomach. Speaking of which, some of the excellent regional specialties are choucroute (sauerkraut, sausages and pork~there's also a version with fish instead), tarte flambées (or in German, 'flammekueches', very thin, crispy pizza-like pies with just creme fraiche, onions, and bacon), big soft pretzels...in other words, when we got back to Paris, we tried our best to catch up on eating green vegetables and fruit! Not to mention all the excellent, cheap, local-brewed beers...

I was surprised to finally see French girls drinking pints! I felt almost more at home in that respect...

Let's move on to other things~I suppose I should comment on the US presidential election. We've all heard the propagated reactions (first black president, etc), so I thought I'd just highlight my top three international reactions to Obama's election:

The 'Most Sobering Reaction' prize goes to Russian President Medvedev's speech in a massive, white glittery room before all the important personalities of his country. I appreciate his realistic comments treating all the work that is cut out for Obama, especially his threat to launch Russian missiles if the new president goes through with Bush's plan to build an anti-missile shield in Eastern Europe. BAM!

The 'Most Expressive Reaction' prize goes to the Kenyan women shown dancing around and singing upon the announcement that Obama won. Honestly, who DIDN'T do a little Obama victory jig??

And finally, the 'Most Inconclusive yet Humorous Reaction' prize goes to Berlusconi who is quoted as saying that the new American president's best attributes include youth, good looks and a "suntan." The Italian Prime Minister didn't stop there; he also insisted that Obama was so good looking that he might introduce him to his wife. Leave it to the Italians to...be creepy??

Voilà! Time to move on now, I miss everyone!

Contemplating world hunger on a full stomach

Towards the end of the salsa party I attended with Germain, his friends, and classmates of mine, I started talking to a friend of Muslim faith. I admit I had had a couple of drinks (the sangria was delicious, and I was content to have finally found a place in Paris where you can buy Negro Modelo!), and I was curious about his thoughts on alcohol. I asked him if he had ever been tempted to drink alcohol, and he said never, and his religion wasn't even the primary reason. A family member of his was alcoholic, and I understood right away, because my grandpa dying of lung cancer, even though I was pretty young at the time and didn't get to know him well before, inspired me to never smoke cigarettes.

I was also curious about fasting since Ramadan concluded recently, and I personally have never fasted. He said the hunger was not so hard as it was to think positive all day long, which is a must according to him. It just all seems so unreal: the fact that millions of people go hungry every day, that millions of people fast for spiritual reasons, that still other millions people worry about what they eat...

This evening I had just finished dinner alone in my room (getting to really hate that!) when I listened to one of the BBC world news reports I had downloaded. Sitting there contently digesting my roquefort, apple and walnut salad, I listened to the reporter interviewing a woman in Ghana who had only been able to feed her 2 year old four biscuits and tea that day.

Needless to say I felt pretty guilty about all the fancy meals I've ever eaten, complete with wine and dessert....but Oualid pronounced some pretty wise words at the end of our conversation at the salsa club: that one should never feel guilty about eating, because all humans need to--just as long as one is thankful for it to whomever they wish (God, parents, the grouchy Parisian grocery store clerks who growl at you when you don't give them exact change).

I'm feeling slightly better about my plans to cook Thanksgiving dinner with Germain's parents. Nevertheless, the alcohol question still remains an enigma to me...but I still couldn't help but be thankful for having a great boyfriend with an extremely pleasant family, despite Germain's jolly drunken cheers-ing throughout my conversation with Oualid... :o)

Up at 5:30am...

Hello all, I haven't updated in a while but I thought I'd take advantage of the opportunity to catch up my blog since I'm wide awake and it's 5:30am......

Things have been heating up quite a bit the past two weeks, in terms of schoolwork at least. And a little in terms of the weather too, which is a strange because I thought it turned winter around this time. (Uh oh, I probably spoke too soon). Tomorrow I'm giving a presentation on how the developing world views the global economic crisis, and Tuesday I'll be turning in my first assignment. It is a report on Transparency International, a non-profit organization that addresses corruption in government and business, and for the purposes of the paper, what it does in oil-producing African countries. Which after all does not amount to much, really. In any case you can't really measure corruption; it's kind of like giving accurate stats about the black market economy. I feel like it's too early in the semester to really delve into evaluating NGOs, though. I've been exposed to the "resource curse" in Africa for three weeks now and feel like I lack the expertise to criticize...

Not to be too negative, but I suffered from a pretty awful migraine from about 6pm to midnight last night. I was just leaving after my shift at the Cajun restaurant, Thanksgiving Paris, when it started to kick in. The timing is about right, since I get them pretty regularly now. At least I hope it was the normal reasons...I would sure be devastated to find out that Judith (the chef)'s scrumptous employee meals of poached eggs & hollandaise sauce, dirty rice and pecan pancakes give me migraines!!!

In other news, I went to a salsa club on Friday with people from AGS (my school) and some of Germain's friends. It was both a classmate's and one of Germain's friend's birthdays. We had a buffet of paella and sangria, followed by several attempts to get Germain to dance with me. He lasted about a minute each time I lured him onto the dance floor. Nevertheless, I certainly enjoyed learning the "kumba" (???) which my Haitian classmate taught me how to dance!

Wish me luck...I miss everyone!!

Bin Laden finally satisfies peanut butter craving; gives up terrorism

I was just doing some reading on liberalism for my Int'l Relations Theories class. Among many aspects, the chapter discusses free trade (unregulated exchange of goods and services between nations) and the spread of Western, liberal ideals such as democracy and human rights. So for example, liberalists in international relations may consider one or both of these as ways to pacify relations amongs states and other actors.

It's perhaps a little sarcastic, but the political cartoonist in me couldn't help imagining Condolleezza Rice walking into Osama Bin Laden's cave to strike a deal.

"Listen, Osam', we'll let y'all engage in free trade with the big boys if y'all stop terrorizing us Westerners," Condie would say.

"Finally!" Bin Laden would think, remaining silent with a stern look on his face. "I could satisfy my decades-long craving for peanut butter!"

Et voila! Problem solved. Who would have thought??

Speaking of peanut butter, I witnessed a great injustice to American culture and cuisine yesterday. I was reading the label on a jar of a French version of the stuff I bought a while back. In translation it states: "Le Peanut Butter is a spread that you may enjoy on any type of bread: toast, sandwiches...for a treat "à l'américaine", use le Peanut Butter on our brand's delicious pancakes!"

Has anyone ever heard of people eating peanut butter on pancakes? I'm sorry, but the French are often just as guilty of commiting cultural blunders as we Americans are...

Housekeeping

I'm really glad that no one was around just now to witness my 30 minute battle with a duvet cover. It was literally swallowing me whole at one point and I could barely find the opening to get out!

I have no classes on Thursdays, so I decided to take advantage of my free morning to stock up on more toys for my dorm room. I got a collinder, a thermos, and cleaning supplies...and I couldn't resist the temptation to finally overhaul my room when I got back. Squeaky clean! But I am devoting this afternoon to starting research for my first report at AGS. It is to investigate the progress and/or efficiency of one of the initiatives that have been established in Africa in response to the "resource curse." For example, Transparency International's Anti-Corruption Campaign is a movement that has created a corruption perception index to assess judiciary, educational, and other public processes in a number of sub-Saharan African countries.

We have to call people or go into the Parisian offices of these initiatives if there is one in Paris, and hassle people until we get a clear idea of whether or not they actually achieve their objectives. I'm itching to start, although I probably didn't come across as so at the end of class when I told the professor that I finally figured out who he reminded me of: Shaggy from Scooby Doo!

But seriously, here goes my first project at the Masters level....wish me luck!

Plantaze Vranac 2004, and Riko from Toulouse

Last night on the way to Germain's for dinner, I decided to buy a bottle of wine at a store that imports products from Eastern Europe and Central Asia. I picked one more or less at random, which I don't like doing, but I was kind of at a loss since I can't read Polish or Romanian. Come to find out I had bought a wine, year 2004, from Montenegro. From my class with Professor Taras, I remembered that this country had more or less recently become its own state. After taking an initial taste, Germain and I decided to Wikipedia it-sure enough, it gained its independence from Serbia in 2006. I noticed that the bottle had obtained a label upon its arrival in France stating 'Made in Montenegro' despite its fabrication two years before it shed its former recognition as Serbia-Montenegro. The bottle must have been exported after the country's independence...the wine was called Plantaze Vranac.

In other news, I bought a homeless man named Riko some yogurt the other day, and he gave me his business card. He apparently used to be a painter from Toulouse in the south of France, and after tragically losing the love of his life he let go of everything and hit the streets. He said that in Paris, unlike in the south, you can live fairly well as a homeless person. People who walk by will just give you anything--and he even admitted that no woman has ever refused to buy him yogurt. I thought it was a strange request when he first approached me in the grocery store, but this guy was an experienced hobo and knew how to play on people's attributes to get food. Think about it: would a woman be more willing to buy something sweet for a homeless man, or something less healthy and less appealing like greasy potato chips? His 'business card' was in fact his portrait drawn by a well-known satirical cartoonist named Cabu, on the back of which he wrote his cell phone number in crayon. I'm not sure how he obtained a cell phone, but he said he'd be in the area for a week or two, so maybe I'll get to check up on him again before long.

The coincidences never cease to amaze me

I registered for classes and met the administration, professors and other students at AGS this afternoon, which was a very pleasant experience full of surprises. The first among them was finding out that Meredith Rainey, a girl who was in my brother's class in middle school in Mandeville and whose sister was in mine, is also starting a Masters at the school this semester. We figured it out when she mentioned that she was from New Orleans, though even from the beginning I thought she seemed slightly familiar. However I never pursued the thought since the likelihood of it being true was so miniscule.

This is however not the first completely absurd coincidence that I've ever experienced in this city. During my year here as an undergrad, I was at the grocery with a Finnish friend when a certain monsieur started chatting with us. About two weeks later, I was walking in a completely different neighborhood probably a half hour away from the site of the first encounter with this monsieur, and I passed him on the street. I am positive that it was him, because our eyes met and exchanged a look that is rare and hard to describe. All within half a silent second, our eyes said to each other, "I know you, we never said our names, only chatted about brioche at the Franprix for 2 minutes, I have nothing to say to you but boy is this a coincidence!!!"

To get back to registration today, I enrolled in courses on:
Global Communications, Media and Int'l Affairs;
The Scramble for African Oil;
Factors and Theories of Analysis in Int'l Relations;
and Current Economic Problems and Policies

The first I chose because it seemed logical to take advantage of the current US presidential elections and all the media I consume in France and from elsewhere that puts its own spin on it. The second, because I want to be able to critique my father's and many of his friends' profession from an academic standpoint (it's my duty as the youngest child to challenge everything my family does!). The third will be key to lay the theoretical foundation of what I'm studying at AGS; and the fourth seemed highly relevant due to the recent US and global economic downturns. Then I could thoroughly participate in debates with Germain and all of his friends who are math and economics majors...

Competition can be an okay motivation sometimes...?

Leaving Biarritz

Hello all, this will be a short one as I am on my way out of Biarritz, a city in the Basque region of France, in a couple of minutes. We spent lots of time on the beach in full view of the Pyrenees. It was a marvelous final vacation before classes start. I have registration this Friday, will start my weekend waitress job at Thanksgiving Paris's Cajun Brunch this Sunday. 

I'm currently jamming to Tony Parker's album; the basketballeur français who plays for the San Antonio Spurs, married to Eva Longoria. It's about as crappy as Shaquille O'Neil's appearances on the movie screen.

Gotta go! Miss everyone!

Packing

I was packing yesterday and going through all the things my mother got me for my trip when I came across a Pez (the candy) made in the shape of a Democratic Donkey. I sized up my themed piles to determine which one I should throw it into, out of "bathroom supplies," "winter clothes," "important documents".....I decided to go with "first aid kit supplies" since it seemed to be the only remotely fitting option.

After my last trip to the Consulate yesterday to certify translations of my passport and birth certificate, I have finally obtained all the paperwork I need for my travels. Now if I want to get thrown out of France, I'm going to have to do something drastic like break an unspoken rule of Parisian fashion. Before my Junior Year Abroad, the only rule of fashion that I knew anything about was that you were never supposed to mix black and brown. But in the wintertime there, the rule seems to be altered to: wear any combinations of colors that are as dark and depressing as people's stares on the metro. And don't smile. Never smile.

Which brings up an interesting point I was chatting about with someone the other day. Americans wonder why people in certain foreign cultures never smile, whereas people in certain foreign cultures wonder why American people are always smiling. I find that I often have to stretch my jaw when I'm in Paris, and I never realized why until that conversation: because I apparently don't smile there as often as I normally do. Nevertheless, I know I'll be happy to go back and am very much looking forward to la rentree! (First day of school)

Irony, irony

Readers, don't get spoiled by my daily updates, because I'll be in classes soon. But until then, I don't have much going on.

So today's theme has been, ok, do you guys hate my guts and want me to die? Or am I loved by society? Case in point: I had a horrible experience at the Consulate this morning (see below). I mean, my confidence was brought to the lowest it's been since I got the bite-me letter from Sciences Po.

But I show up at my doctor's appointment earlier, out here in Magnolia, where they had me fill out waiver forms and patients' rights agreements. I had to laugh when I wrote my initials next to the line that read "You have the right to be treated with respect and dignity by our healthcare professionals." I was tempted to write "Oh no no, that's fine, no need. I don't have any more self-esteem to respect. A.L.F."

I was in to obtain a prescription for migraine medicine, for which I had seen a neurologist several months ago but never called back for the meds. He had however written up a patient's report with all the detail, so I brought it in to show the doctor here in Magnolia. She stood up at one point and said she'd be back in a few, she was just going to make a copy. My eye twitched with the painful memory of the last time I was spoken these very words, just hours before at the Consulate. I almost lept out of my chair screaming, "Please don't hurt me!"

Ok the next drastically different and ironic twist in today's prose is that the doctor GAVE ME A HUG at the end of our consultation. She said she'd remembered me from my appointment two years ago and wished me the warmest wishes for my Masters program in Paris.

Again, world, do you hate me or love me??

Finally, I leave the doctor's office and proceed to the pharmacy on the first level and am engaged in a very natural, friendly conversation with the pharmacist, who even complemented me on my earrings. After the verbal abuse from the women at the Consulate, I seriously thought this woman was hitting on me.

Visa application requirements just added: Verbal Abuse and Public Humiliation!

All night I was tossing and turning because I realized at 9pm last night that I needed to have gotten one of the documents for my student visa notorized. I left messages on about a dozen Houston notaries' voicemails in hopes that one would call me back before my 9am Visa appointment downtown at the Consulate.

Due to time constraints, my mother and I decided to go directly to the Consulate and just deal with it--which was the right decision, because it didn't matter after all. But what did matter was that I had filled out the wrong visa form and had to fill out another three copies by hand. That was the fastest I've ever filled out any forms remotely legibly in my life. But I had also overlooked the requirement of making a copy of all the rest of my documents (acceptance letter, financial guarantee, blah blah).

I was already on the lady's bad side, because their printer wasn't working so I was going to get an earful whether I had all my documents or not. Then, I approached the desk at 1015am saying that I was just getting a little concerned that they had overlooked my 9am appointment. I didn't think this out of line. After screwing up the second thing, having filled out the wrong visa form, she starts chewing me out for being a twenty-two year old who doesn't know how to read (her exact words).

We had been speaking in French the whole time, and from different sides of a glass window with her speaker shut off so I could barely hear her and had to yell. Suddenly, in the middle of chewing me out in French, she decides to finally turn the speaker on and proceeds to talk about how dumb and careless students are these days, especially me, because I was the only student who has ever forgotten the copy of my other documents, blah blah. So I am sitting there, next to another girl who started getting chewed out for her passport photo being wrong, and we exchanged a look of disbelief that these two women would announce such insults, suddenly now in English over a microphone!!!, to a room full of angry, impatient visa candidates.

Not only does the woman helping the other girl go off on her; I also heard her say to her collegue--in French--that ohhhh this girl's poor father, he looks all shook up because I'm yelling at his poor, sweet innocent child. She knew the girl's father didn't speak English. Unbelievable!

Luckily I've been living out in Magnolia, Texas, for the last couple of weeks, where everyone smiles and shares family stories at the grocery store or gas station or wherever they happen to exchange words with a stranger. If I had been in Parisian mode, I would have said "Well it doesn't take a genius to fix a printer!" But no....I smile and apologize.

Final result: The woman huffs her way to the copy machine to make a copy for me and proceeds to hand it right back to me. Well gee! The little part of my ego that she had trampled on would have gladly gone without a copy for its own files. ..

Voila my jubilant experience at the Consulate. In any case, I'll get my visa tomorrow when I go back. But I just wanted to spread the word out there that new visa requirements have been added: Verbal abuse and public humiliation!

My debut (hey, that's a French word!) as a blogger

In response to rising demands, I have decided to start a blog going into my two-year Masters program in Paris. I will be leaving to go back on August 28, making it exactly one month that I have spent in Magnolia, Texas, population 1111...soon to be 1110.

I haven't found out where I'll be living yet, but it doesn't matter much anyway because I will first have to get my last vacation out of the way. I'll finally be traveling to the south of France! Germain's friend Antoine's family has a vacation home in the hott, surfer destination of Biarritz near the border of Spain.

Have a look at this map to orient yourself. http://maps.google.com/maps?client=firefox-a&rls=org.mozilla:en-US:official&hl=en&tab=wl&q=biarritz%20france I should technically be able to drive Antoine's family car to Spain if we wish, which none of the rest of them can do since, like Germain, neither Antoine nor his girlfriend have ever touched the wheel of a car before.

I'll be taking a 7am train there on Sept 3 with Germain, Antoine, and Antoine's girlfriend and will be back on Sept 9 just in time to hopefully move into the international dorm I used to live in during my Junior year abroad (called the Cite U). This time around, I may not be living in the American house, which is fine by me. I'm hoping to score a room in the Indian house, cuz that's my favorite ethnic cuisine. Is that wrong?