That was the morning after my 21st. Trust me, the room was far messier than it appears on the video.You were probably distracted by a different mess - did you see Cam? Passed out on an air bed at 9am the morning after a late night out? Embarrassing....
The birthday night was great to start with. I had about 20 people in my appartment for pre-drinks. It was a Twins party, where you were supposed to dress the same as someone else, but we just got a group together to wear checkered shirts and fake moustaches drawn with eyeliner on our faces - it was the first thing that came to us! It hit me at that 'party' how well I have done integrating in the local culture, with not a single French person in the room. There were Germans, Mexicans, Finnish, Belgians, Dutch, Russians, Ecuadorians.... At the moment I'm more likely to return to the UK fluent in Spanish than in French!
Okay, I haven't made much of an effort so far with regards to meeting French people, but it's not very easy at all! Even the French in my classes stick to themselves, and struggle to integrate. Ah well, I guess I'm still on level 5 on the France Integration Scale (see below), but I know something I've always been good at (something I'm going to use when bullshitting my way through internship interviews) is bringing people together. It's not beyond me.
I wanna learn the ways of the Frog and become a Francophone like my father.
The Ollieficial France Integration Scale
Level 1 - settle in your appartment/flat/prison cell (Chris)
Level 2 - make conversation with someone you don't know
Level 3 - add fellow international students on Facebook
Level 4 - know fellow international students well enough to invite them to your birthday bash
Level 5 - know fellow international students well enough to go to Disneyland with them this Sunday
Level 6 - make conversation with the French (in English)
Level 7 - befriend 10 French people on Facebook
Level 8 - make conversation with the French (in French)
Level 9 - know French students well enough to go to Amsterdam with them next month.
Level 10 - start chain smoking
Level 11 - stop finding pain au chocolat grotesque
Level 12 - stop finding steak tata grotesque
Level 13 - start hating your fellow Brits
Level 14 - ostracise yourself from fellow international students
Level 15 - not only are you now fluent in French, you ARE French!
Despite not speaking much French (it's mostly been Facebook conversations with Frieddie), I have learned a new phrase this week - les videurs français sont salauds. On the night of my birthday, after downing five vodka shots in a row, I finally became a teeny bit drunk. I heard that my friend Itzel had hurt herself and was outside wondering where I was. As I went outside, the bouncers forced me back in (physically of course - those dumb fuckers wouldn't be able to outwit me no matter my level of drunkenness!) despite my protests in French that my friend had hurt herself. I swore loudly in English, and two bouncers grabbed my arms and dragged me out, while I was shouting 'Ma copine s'a fait mal! Je ne suis pas bourré! Je ne veux pas dire mal! C'EST MON ANNIVERSAIRE'. The bastards ignored me and pushed me out. That was it. All my friends were inside, Itzel was nowhere to be seen, and I was stuck in the centre of Rennes at 2am, drunk and alone.
Fortunately, I spotted my next door neighbour, a Belgian dude called Mattias, who was with his friend trying to get in, but couldn't. His French is better than mine, and he talked to a bouncer who would listen, explaining my situation. Luckily, I was allowed back in, but when I got back I just didn't feel up for it. The way those bouncers had treated me put a downer on my night, and I was too drunk. Cam found me and we then found our way back to the flat, with the help of a stranger on the street.
I went to town on Saturday for a drink at the bar, after a day checking out St Malo. At the bar, the drinks came with free entries to the club that I went to last Wednesday (called L'Espace), so we headed there in our international group. But the bouncer asked us to move aside, not giving a reason. When I demanded one, he said we were too drunk. I had drunk 2 pints of Leffe, slowly. I was perfectly sober, and so was everyone else by the time we had walked to the club.
We asked for a real reason, but were denied one. The guy couldn't speak English, and clearly had no intention to. My conclusion? He was a racist who didn't feel like letting in foreigners tonight. I heard that pints were 9€ each inside though - so maybe it was a saving grace! The following day, Frieddie told me that this was normal in Europe where bouncers can reject whoever they want. Of course, I think this is bullshit! I'm not having my night determined for me by some big dumb brute! Obviously, I'm taking my business elsewhere.
So it seems the French themselves are the only thing ruining my experience here in France! I've only been here for two and a half weeks, but I already love the European culture. I've already been looking at masters courses in Europe (not France of course), I'm that keen/sad!
The title of this blog was said by my friend, Matthew - the only British guy I've met here. He was also furious on Saturday night, and took a photo of the bouncer to use if we can try and take him down with the ancient martial art of emaildo. The title is a double-entendre, because I am complaining about both French people and their language - I just can't speak it!
French classes started this week, and there are 12 levels, level 12 being virtually fluent, level 1 being for those who just wrote their names on the placement paper and ran for it. To my complete and utter surprise, I have been put in level 11, with the International Business students from Warwick. It has been two and a half years since I have had a French lesson, so I was chuffed!
But then classes started.
First it was French culture, which was taught in French. Talk about jumping in the deep end - I did it with a 20kg weight in my arms! We were taught by Bilbo Baggins, who looked like a typical professor with crazy grey hair, looking very happy. I noticed a ring on his hand - he clearly won over Gollum with his charm. He said that 50% of Finnish people think he's crazy, the other half think he's drunk. Obviously I struggled, but I think I can answer the questions in English if I so desire, and some of the text was in English - so it wasn't too bad. I may not fail that course.
Then it was French language - another 3 hours of Frogspeak, and this time - I had to participate. In French. Not a word of English was spoken in that room, and the topic was about the economic crisis (as Enter Shikari would say: quelle fucking suprise). By the time it was my turn, I felt sick with worry. Everyone there was amazing - the words danced out of their mouths, filling the room with an air of brilliance, making me ever more nauseous. The russian girl next to me made a few grammatical errors, and was struggling to answer the teacher's questions. I was next. She was going to humiliate me. She was going to send me down to the easy classes, and I wouldn't achieve my goal of fluency. I needed air. I felt like I was going to hurl....
And then the teacher called for a ten minute break. I rushed to the toilets....
Back in class, I had to face the inevitable, but at least I had had some air. Slouching behind the people sitting in front of me, I had to describe a picture of a pile of 100€ notes with a belt tightly wrapped around it. I only just learned the word for 'belt' thanks to my friend having Google translate handy. I mumbled what I had written down (if I tried to ad lib, I'd be out of there), talking about how the belt around the 100€ notes signified the need to spend less, due to inflation rising at a faster rate than people's salaries, giving them less purchasing power (I remembered the phrase le pouvoir d'achat from my essay at school.) and blabbed a bit about Ireland, Greece etc. bringing down the Euro's value. Somehow, I survived. I think my knowledge of the term le pouvoir d'achat saved me for this week. However, the teacher was also really kind, and understanding when I explained my situation to her. But there will be a different teacher next week, and I'm worried about how understanding he will be.
To be honest, should I have expected any different? If I was going to be in a top class, then the level was always going to be high. Maybe it was the shock of going from near the top of the class at school straight to the bottom here. But I know I need to stay in this class - this should greatly help my fluency, if I can survive for a whole year, that is. All I know is - I'm not going to join any sports or societies just yet. (They want you to have a doctor's note to prove you're fit enough to do sport! Talk about overbureaucracy!)
Frieddie just pointed out to me that I'm not as positive today as I was these past couple of weeks. I think reality is settling in and the novelty is wearing off. It was the same at Warwick - and thats what's vexing me more than anything else. I don't want to leave Rennes feeling the same way as when I left Warwick. People are already dropping out, so it's clear I'm not the only one with fears at the moment.
But I'm going to stick this. This is probably the 'buyer's remorse' stage - it should get better again. It must get better again.
Tonight is the Buddy party, where we meet our French 'buddy' - so this should be a good way to integrate into French culture. However, I'm naturally sceptical. It is their job to be our 'buddy', not their choice. Furthermore, I saw the list of activities this morning, and my first activity will be jongles. You are fucking kidding me. JUGGLING?! I'm 21, man! Why the hell would I want to learn to control balls (not in that way) when I have a career to think of?! I saw the other activities, which include making paper aeroplanes - I did that in school anyway! Well I tried to, but I'm not very good at origami, so I just scrunched up some paper into a ball and threw it at someone. I never juggled them either. Three-legged races, drawing with the pen in your mouth, passing a ball.... no wonder I don't get on very well with the French, if that's what they call entertainment! Seriously, this looks like it's going to be a naff night, and I am very particular about people asking me to do things I am not comfortable doing (*cough*Cam*cough*AIESEC*cough*) unless it would be of some use to me. I do not feel like publicly demonstrating my lack of coordination, especially in front of strangers. I'll be remembered as 'le garçon spécial' or something. The French love their sport WAY too much, and I'll forever be their clown.
As you can see, I'm not very optimistic about tonight. But hey, I'm still going, because I was sceptical, even at 9, about the Harry Potter books. How wrong I was! Tonight might actually be mildly enjoyable/productive, and if it isn't, I'm going to the bar afterwards anyway.
Everything else is great! I still have great friends (old and new), am in comfortable accommodation, and am enjoying the business courses here WAY more than I did at Warwick - I may actually do a Masters in my own subject (rather than converting)! I'm also going to Disneyland on Sunday with my new friends, which should be a great bonding sesh. The only thing getting me down is the French, which I should get used to soon (and my Kindle broke, and a new one is being mailed to my Welsh house, so I'm stuck with this crap PC to read books on, which dies after a mere 20 minutes without mains supply!) I'm also very tired, having had 18 hours of class this week already - class that I HAVE to attend. That + 8:15am starts = ouch time for Ollie. I overslept this morning and was half an hour late. Sure, I only missed introductions, and I didn't have to admit to everyone that I am as experienced with internships as Stephen Hawking is with the hurdles. Sure, I managed to redeem myself by volunteering to present about a company's distribution system, but that's not the point - I need to become a morning person, something I certainly am not!France has not been good for my Coca-Cola addiction, either. This is the view from my bedroom window.
Yup, I'm still a Cocaholic, but don't worry - I'm on rehab.
Rant over
Ollie
No comments:
Post a Comment