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)
28 August 2008
21 August 2008
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.
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!
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!
20 August 2008
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?
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?
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