The girl in the French Film

~Enjoy the song reference if you happen to be awesome. If not, enjoy... not being awesome? Or just enjoy the movie :) Yep, do that instead.

Aix, Marseille and Marseille number 2 smushed into one glorious mess that I have decided to call a movie.

Starring:

French People (Everyone else)

Non French person (Me)

French Stories that would be really bad bedtime stories; Part Two

Story Two: The tale of two cities. Or more like one city. Actually just a provence. Aix en Provence.


Sometimes I catch myself realising I'm in France. It's like I can visualise myself turning to look straight down and popping out the top of my head surging upwards in an ariel view of this house, of this little down, of this provence, of all of France, Europe and so far out that I can see the world spin round to show Australia purely to emphasise to me how far from everything I know I am. These times are slightly surreal because it doesn't feel as different as I would have thought it would be since it seems no matter where I go it's not like I outrun who I am (not that I particularly want to, I'm loads of fun). And then, other times, I've scarcely the time to say to myself "My God this place is beautiful. I'm. In. France." before the next amazing site is before my eyes. Aix on Provence is one such town that inspires these moments :)

They don't suspect a thing... now I can sneak up on them and be all Australian mwahaha

 Commence the arbitrary dumping of photos...

They say it is the face of a woman who was waiting for her man to return home for so long that she turned to stone as she waited and waited...but he never returned

Turns out he never returned because he forgot to buy milk and he knew she'd be pissed so he didn't want to face her. He also forgot his legs somewhere or potentially traded them for that lovely loincloth full of fruit
(Yeah...mayyyy have made up that story...possibly...but it's probably true)

Actually the more I think about it the more I wonder why this lovely house was decorated with such tortured looking men...

This photo doesn't do it justice, but it's a stunning garden

I could easily die happy if I did nothing but traverse little streets like this for the rest of my life

Actually I would probably die quickly, hungry and confused why I was doomed to carrying through on a flippant remark I made in a blog... but still... it'd be pretty awesome for the first day or two

So now that I've dumped some photos on you, I'll admit that these photos in no way do this little quaint town justice. It's otherwise known as the "village of water" and has 70 fountains in it (because 71 would just have been crazy, but 70 is a totally acceptable way to spend the city's money) and is just utterly gorgeous. It's also home to one of the main uni's down here. I am seething with jealousy (how extremely negative does that sound!) Okay, I'm more like...hmmm... the kid outside in the cold with his nose pressed up against the window of the warm bakery, looking inside longingly (why did I make myself a boy in the metaphor? Well, why not). anyway so to capture the experience more aptly I stuck to the pattern and made you a movie. But, since it only goes for a minute or so, sticking with the time travelling nature of my stories, I combined it with the film of our trip around Marseille's Notre Dame a few days later.


Interlude between Story Two and Three; The story of Lisa's exhaustion


I've been really enjoying seeing all of these old buildings and the style of these towns where everything is this typical provincial look, and I'm so grateful to the various people who have taken me there and around but there's a part of me that is getting restless to go somewhere alone. It's exhausting trying to speak French all the time and plus I think there's a different experience to absorbing the essence of somewhere beautiful with a group of people and on your own. And part of me just wants to go spend the day walking around the town with my own thoughts without worrying about being an imposition or rude to anyone I'm with. It's a weird desire since I'm constantly forced to be in my own head here anyway since the language barrier frequently isolates me from a lot of conversations. For once in my life I'm genuinely forced to shut up and just sit there. It's a pretty bizarre experience to feel like you can't express yourself at all to the people around you. Even the people I have here who can speak a little English and give me a break now and again and let me speak English, don't understand all that much and I know as I try to talk, they aren't reeeeally understand what I'm trying to say. They understand most/some of it, but I know I can't really talk naturally and they just don't quite really get it. It's a little bit draining really to be honest, especially since anyone who knows me knows I love having discussions about things and delving into thoughts about complicated interesting things, I like talking to people and generally like making people laugh by making jokes. I like being expressive and engaging and it's ridiculously challenging over here. It's not so bad if anyone directly engages me one on one in a discussion or a few people chat with me and forgive some of my mistakes. Then I can keep an upbeat conversation with laughter and chatter going in French. We've had some good nights like that at cafe's or the pub with a group of Celine's friends I really like. But when I keep meeting new people with Celine I feel really rude having to just sit there like a weird 3rd-silent-Australian-wheel for ages while they talk at a speed that just blurs into white noise for me. Those are the times I either just want to hide somewhere, close the doors, take a deep breath and blow it out slowly and just be on my own for a while (I haven't rubbed my face and sighed this many times in my life) or I wish I could speak French (obviously this option is the more appealing...but the less realistic in that moment). Some nights I'm able to keep it going and keep in good spirits and other nights I'm just too drained and want to recharge on my own. Funnily enough it's taken me two nights to get this post together. Last night when I started this I was pretty drained and didn't really feel like sitting for ages in the midst of French chatter I couldn't understand when I could be reading or something instead, tonight however, I'm in a good mood haha, it's a nice reminder that it always rolls back around to me being re-energised again. I know this may sound ridiculous since it's only been one week (IT'S ONLY BEEN ONE WEEK!?!?) But I've been so busy and done so much, I could swear it's been 2-3 weeks or so. I don't want to end this section seeming to come off as saying I'm not having a good time or I'm exhausted, but I'm also not about to lie and say I'm constantly cheery and full of energy. I am having an amazing time, but amazing times are exhausting. And the truth is, some days I'm getting exhausted... But I'm happy. I really am. :) (Look at that, I couldn't help it anyway!)


The DVD version of the book; Remember that video I mentioned?
Yeah so it turns out I got carried away making that "short" video, as I always tend to do when I start making videos, and it is now epic. The next post will soley be France, brought to you in VHS form...

French Stories that would be really bad bedtime stories; Part One

I have a bad habit of taking photos completely arbitrarily or not at all and thinking I'll post a blog of the day at the end of each day then ending up being busy being French and shiz, ergo I now have a mess of stories to tell and I was debating if I should lay them out in a few neat, orderly posts or just dump them on you with blatant disregard for order or narrative time flow like armfuls of random clothing thrown on the bed when I do my washing... which is rarely anyway. I have hereby decided this is a lovely idea (seriously...it's because it's lovely...not because I'm lazy) and have complied a series of eclectic stories from France for you to enjoy. I pay zero reverence to balance of time flowing in a sensical manner. Without further ado, I present to you:

French Stories that would be really bad bedtime stories

~A series of short stories and musings by a woman sitting in a French bedroom pretending to be French and sane and stuff like that

Story One: The tale of how Lisa became immensely fat

So I'm sure I've established by now that I'm basically being starved over here. I rarely get food to eat, and when I do it's only stale bread and vegetables. Hah. Seriously, if I haven't stressed enough yet how delicious this country is, allow me to regale you with my travels in food form. The update being the following highlights:

The other night we sat around having drinks and chatter before dinner and Patrick (my fake French Papa) heard me say I like scotch and we were talking about how in France it's only called whisky, so he opened a 15 year old bottle of scotch before I could work out how to say "No no really that's far too kind" in French. Freaking awesome sensation sitting inside sipping that when you've just come in from the cold and you can smell dinner about to be served.

All good stories should start with the main character getting slightly drunk before dinner

The story then progresses to some strange woman being allowed into a French university for the day to go with her French friend to her classes. The English class in the morning was interesting but a bit weird. They seemed to focus on learning things that didn't really seem insanely crucial to know when the students didn't really have a full grasp on some of the simpler concepts. What sort of language class teaches what it means to "clock in and clock out" or "knock off" and "enforce strategic planning" before they teach the difference between "he, she, his, her, my, yours, you, ours" :S Well anyway, for lunch we  went to a nearby bakery (I swear I've used the phrase "ca sents bon!" "It smells good!" so ridiculously many times). The bakery had an upstairs area, a little like an old European pub, very cosy. I had an awesome slice of pizza and a chocolate pie :D The afternoon lecture was surreal. Sitting in a dusty warm room with something like 5 students and one old professor who resembled something like a cross between Santa and David Attenborough who spoke the most rapid animated French and loved saying "Cuckoo!" when his students weren't paying attention.

Yes, hello, I would like...everything

We now flash forward through time, because it's my story and I can do stuff like that. I can also do stuff like this! Hello Renee and confuse many of you and please one of you :) Anyway, so back to our time machine story... we're now in the middle of our day exploring Aix en Provence at lunch in a little restaurant with Patrick and Chantal (neither of whom speak English just ps). The lunch was pretty nice but mainly I just loved the decore of the place. Plus there was this adorable little dog who I think belonged to one of the waiters. The little pup really wanted to be with his owner and kept finding a way inside and running over all happy then having to get taken back outside over and over haha poor little guy...

Have eaten snails. Am basically French now.

O hai guys I think you accidentally put me outside...guys...hello?

RETURN TO THE TIME MACHINE! Suddenly we're in yesterday's evening in the middle of eating a Chichi with Nutella (Nutella is everywhere over here! Which is just fine by me, I would hook that stuff up to my veins if I could...and if that didn't just totally defy the point since my veins don't have tastebuds...and if that didn't kill me) We had these after our walk up to Notre Dame in Marseille, sitting on a wall overlooking the port as the sunset with a group of awesome French friends. I seriously don't think life would get much better moments than this...

I can get away with this because the next photo is really pretty

So many classical little French houses overlooking the sea...ahhh :)

I think I live here now

Is your heart sighing its heart out? Yes, take a moment to enjoy the weird image of your heart having a heart as well as an ability to sigh, then come with me into the time machine again which now resembles the Willy Wonka boat (the old school film of course) with images flashing by you as we travel onto the next story. Except instead of unexplainably weird, horrible and totally irrelevant-to-the-plot-line-of-willy-wonka images (SERIOUSLY did we EVER get an explanation as to why that tunnel had to appear in Willy Wonka?!?) the images are of awesome things I've consumed here.

Ignore the girl.
It was essential for the story line.

So turns out I don't actually want to take you through a rape tunnel though. My tunnel would involve flashing images of French wine and cheese, a lot of petite coffees, more cheese and bread, more crepes, soup, avocado boats filled with a shrimp paste (sounds so so weird I know but it was DELICIOUS!), chocolate, fig jam and more things all of which I ate. The moral of this story is, if you don't want to get fat, don't go to France. But it's worth it...so go to France.

Story Two: The tale of two cities. Or more like one city. Actually just a provence. Aix en Provence. ... Coming next...when it isn't 1am here :) Bon nuit tout le monde!

I permanently have a dreamy expression on while you're talking

Frequently, much to the amusement of Celine and her family, I can be caught just wandering around the house slowly saying French words to myself for no other reason than because I can and because I love the sound of the words. The best example of this is me standing scraping food scraps into the bin after dinner just saying "Poubelle" over and over, in my oh-so-romantic French voice, purely for my own enjoyment. Here's a list of words I never miss a chance to say...

~A list of epic French Words~

Word: Rigolo (Rhi-go-low)

Means: Funny

Eg: C'est tres rigolo :)

I adore just wandering around saying that things are funny in French.

I often use this word in combination with "bizzare" C'est bizzare!

Word: Mercredi (M-erh-krah-di)

Means:  Wednesday

It's just one of those beautiful words to say/hear in French. Don't ask me why.

Word: Poubelle (Poo-beh-ll)

Means: Rubbish

I think I'm fond of some of the dumbest words possible in French... This just strikes me as the best meeting ever of "Pumba" (Lion King) and "belly"!

Word:  Peut-être (Poo-tetra)

Means: Maybe

First of all, it sounds like someone saying Potatoes in a hilarious accent. Second of all it's great fun to say pootetttraaaa and you get to shrug and look non-chalant while you say it...

Word: Pamplemousse (Parm-pleh-mousse)

Means: Grapefruit

This one is curtesy of Andria I first learnt the word. And I have to agree, it's just the sexiest word ever, I wish it meant something cooler than grapefruit. Anyone who says it just sounds like they're kissing some amazingly soft imaginary object and it's hard to say it without putting on bedroom eyes.

Word: Allo (Ah-lo)

Means: Hello. But it's mainly used the way we say "right/so/okay"

For example people just wander around getting things ready going...hmmm. allo. Here's the juice! Or *write write write...flip the book around to show you* Allo. See here?

Hehe it's an extremely adorable trait and is often used in conjunction with "Voila". I've found I'm picking up on this habit really quick too though so watch out, when I come home I might accidentally do this... a lot.

~This list will only continue to grow because this language was clearly made purely for my personal amusement and enjoyment~

A walk to remember-how-to-get-home

The progression of my promenade ("walk" in French. Cute, hey?) en Marignane from chilled out stroll around a lovely French town to being hopelessly lost in a lovely French town

How I managed to do this twice in two days, I do not know.

I'm skilled at getting "perdu" (lost)

Welcome to walks through France with Lisa

So yesterday I decided to go for a walk around the lovely town I live in and, in my arrogant ignorance thought pfffft as if I'll get lost, I won't go far! But then the walk was so lovely, I kept going until it was time I had to get home. Everything in my backtracking was fine until the very end of the trip...then I tried one path URGH wrong...okay, back again...try this path...wait is this the path I just came from? I crossed two roads...right? Dammit! All the houses here look the same!

A comprehensive guide to getting "perdu"

So I figured if I was doomed to traversing the streets for the rest of the afternoon, I'd take some photos for you guys...

All the houses here are gorgeous

...and there are cats everywhere

I don't think this photo does justice to the amazing vines covering this house

Sigh...want :)

So eventually I ended up trying to flick through the photos I took to compare them to what I could see and to try and navigate my way home by finding the houses I could see in my photos and Voila! I was home again! ^_^ So after jokingly saying to Celine I got a little bit lost I thought ha, I won't do that again! ...cue the very next day...

Allo. Aujourd'hui sera different.
(Okay. Today will be different)

Let me take you on my walk today! I walked around Marignane and felt a little bit like I'd stepped into my imagination. It was brisk and I was bundled up in a scarf and warm jacket and little hat, hands in pockets, burying my head deeper into my scarf like a pigeon fluffing its feathers up for warmth, I walked into a set of shops and looked at all the lovely clothes, then managed to successfully purchase a delicious bun with sugar thingys on top all in French! I can't quite describe how awesome it feels to walk around hearing and saying Bonjour and carrying on a full conversation in French but it's pretty damn awesome. The few times I think I've pulled off not needing to say my French sentence of "I'm sorry but my French isn't so good, could you please talk slowly for me" in public places is freaking awesome.

C'est "nom nom nom"

I spent a while sitting just sketching while I ate my yummy bun. Then onwards on our walk!

Even little backstreets are pretty here

It's like the Danish Santa!
Joyeux Noel!

I founds a park :)

Then came the fun of trying to get home! On the way, as I was walking a group of men were doing some gardening or something and smiled and waved, I looked behind me and there was no-one there so I guessed it was me they were waving at. I laughed a little and gave a small wave back as I was walking past on the other side of the road. One of them gestured to his face with a smile, then pointed at me and did the sign for good/lovely haha which was sweet, so I jokingly (but not really that jokingly) pointed to his friend and did the same gesture, laughed and kept walking. I was halfway down the street when they pulled up alongside me and the guy I'd pointed at smiled "Bonjour" (hehe I still can't get over how fun it is to say Bonjour). I have no idea what we said to each other, I think I said in French I'm Australian, they were saying something, either "work" or "walk". By this time the cars were piling up behind them and I felt bad so I pointed at the cars and looked worried. Annoying, but we kind of just looked at each other with a theres-nothing-we-can-do look and they had to drive off. Stupid French traffic. Still, it was fun :) So that is potentially why I completely messed up how to get home and got lost. Again.

Ah...la...directions?

 I've complied a lovely video for you that aptly shows my gradual descent into hopelessly lost...ment...

You all smell awesome (and other weird things I learnt in the first weekend)

~The following is a very speedy list of all the most important things I have learnt within these first two days

It won't let me move this picture to the relevant section so I'll just start the post off with my delicious nutella crepe to make you jealous

1. Everyone here smells amazing.
   Okay yes, I agree that sounds really weird, especially since it made it to the top of the list, but bear with me for a moment here because I swear to God it's a truth that hits me every twenty minutes or so when I meet someone new. I think this must be one things the men of France have realised the significance of far more so than Australian men have because all the men here smell lovely, and so do the women! Everyone wears awesome perfume and it rocks. I think it's because the French quickly worked out that if they were going to greet each other by bumping faces a lot and getting nice and close then they had better make that an appealing process... which brings me to my second point...
   
   
2. It goes RIGHT cheek LEFT cheek in France you moron Lisa.
   I very rapidly learnt that yes it was true everyone kisses hello in France, and everyone means everyone. Celine! Kiss kiss Celine's boyfriend kiss kiss, Celine's parents kiss kiss, kiss kiss (phew this is exhausting). I thought okay, so this is kind of cool, it instantly makes you pretty happy. Seriously, try this for one day, you can't help but laugh and smile because it's such a happy motion. But seriously, it's a bit weird. I know I haven't written the thrilling synopsis of my first weekend yet but suffice to say I was thrown straight in the deep end, I've met a LOT of French people and been busy since the moment I stepped off the plane (hence the delayed posts I'm sorry!). So the point was, even when you meet a whole freaking group of people, like 15 people at a dinner, you kiss everyone. And this is how I quickly learnt it goes RIGHT then LEFT since I tried LEFT RIGHT every single time and had a lot of awkward moments with these poor French people who must have immediately worked out I'm not exactly French. Hopefully my silly Australian accent was charming enough to excuse my ineptitude. I'm glad I learnt this one very quickly, it's a dead give away that you aren't French if you mess this up. So remember, RIGHT then LEFT kids! :)
   
   
3.  I am going to come home a good 5kgs happier, it's inevitable. I also need to learn to eat a lot more a lot faster. Every single meal here is ridiculous! Like ridiculously awesome, but kind of ridiculous. Every meal is like a giant feast with at least three courses. Oh and I'm also permanently slightly drunk since we have wine with every meal. I was so flattered Celine's Papa likes drinking wine with me because I managed to say in French that I love red wine and prefer Cabernet Savignon and, hey, I don't need to drive over here so sure I'll have a glass haha but it is un peu bizarre (a little bit weird) but I'm enjoying it a lot. But I'm straying from the point here, the point is it is RIDICULOUS how much they eat! And they're all skinny! Okay so for example.
   
   When I arrived we had lunch:
   -Little bites of pizza
   -Scotch, wine, this weird delicious licorice tasting alcohol drink from Marseille (Don't worry I just had a glass of the licorice thingy, the men had scotch)
   -Bread with three types of cheese
   -Quiche (I thought this was the main meal...nope..."appetiser")
   -Roast rabbit with a HUGE pile of butter green beans
   -Wine
   -Sausage
   -More bread
   -Custard and sweet bread
   -Coffee
   -"Is this dinner?" "Oh no no, this is lunch. Dinner is in two hours." WHAT!?!?
   And the portions are NOT small at all. Oh and you know you have to finish it within two minutes because suddenly the next plate of things will be brought out and everyone else has finished theirs already... it's like rapid deliciousment and it's awesome but crazy
   A second example: We then went out to dinner for Celine's cousin's Birthday (ps they have an adorable version of Happy Birthday "Bon Anniversary" hehe)
   -Olives and wine
   -Giant salad
   -Filo pastry pocket stuffed with cheese and (I think) chicken? Whatever it was it was awesome, but even this was a meal on its own!
   -Pizza (oh my god, it was like a little orgasm on pizza dough. There was three types, my favourite was the eggplant one)
   -Oh you think you're full? NO! Giant plate of cabonara pasta (I did not know what to do, I seriously just could not eat it. Meanwhile everyone else has just inhaled theirs. I have a theory going that French people have little black holes in their stomachs because from my currently limited medical knowledge this should not be physically possible)
   -There was also dessert but I don't know what this was since I was actually falling asleep at the table and had to excuse myself to sleep in the car. I'll write this out properly but I was fighting my hardest, it had actually reached the point of being a physical survival thing, my body kept trying to force itself to shut down, it did NOT feel good. The food however DID feel good. :)
   -Ps in between those two meals we also had nutella crepes. I think I've already put on 2 kgs...
   
   
4. Everything here is beautiful.
   It sounds overly simple, but honestly, it's simple but utterly true. My heart can't stop sighing. This place is gorgeous, it feels like I've stepped into some sort of quaint little movie. Everything would be perfect if I was fluent in French, but c'est la vie, and it brings me to my next point...
   
   
5. Learning physically hurts. I am permanently slightly exhausted.
   Sigh, I love this, but my god I seriously am exhausted. You know when you're in exam week, studying hard and your brain actually hurts a little? Like you feel as though it's powering through all it's glucose stores and forging new pathways (which is partially true) and you can actually FEEEEEEL drained and mentally exhausted from your brain working so hard? Yeah. Try that permanently. It's extremely bizarre to have to constantly stop and work out how to construct every sentence and to also attempt to filter and translate everything people are saying to you (Ps I suck at this. See next point.) That said, I cannot believe how quickly I'm learning French. More and more frequently I'm finding I can keep a real conversation going in pure French and it's stupidly exciting for me :) I oscillate between extreme optimism being like YEAH this is the first three days! By the end of four weeks I'll totally be able to speak French! annnnd moments of realisation of the extreme complexity of this ridiculous language, just as you think you're starting to get it, it changes and has some other stupid rule that changes EVERYTHING. I have a lot of moments where I just feel too overwhelmed and feel like it's a bit hopeless. Those moments are usually when I'm tired and everyone is speaking French quickly, I don't understand and I can't think quickly enough to understand it or make up a relevant sentence in time. Of course everyone has times they want to throw their hands up and give up when they're learning, the funny thing is I don't have a choice here :P And I don't mind that. I'm hoping that as the jetlag wears off and as my French improves this feeling gets less and less. I have definitely used the French word for "exhausting" a lot though, I'm quite fond of it hehe...
   
   
6. Dear French people. I love you, but you talk way too quickly.
   This is so true I can't even begin to describe it. I adore sitting listening to people speaking French, but it's very frustrating being surrounded by gobbledigook that I wish I could understand. It makes it hard to fathom being good enough to understand it at such a speed. Thankfully a lot of the time Celine will slow down for me or will say something in English for me. The problem is I don't think I'm learning by being surrounded by this gibberish when there's no reference point in my brain for the English. Then again, one of Celine's friends, Manu (ps I love her, I'll write a short point for her next), said it's like getting into a language bath, being immersed in it you'll start to understand more and more then be able to say more and more. I hope she's right, at the moment it's a bit weird and I feel rude just sitting there smiling and being silent 90% of the time when everyone's talking. Ps- Right now my housemate/new sister/French awesome girl Celine is on the phone and is angry so she's talking tres rapidement and it sounds hilarious to me and amazing. So emphatic and melodic! I want to be able to sound like this when I'm mad (Hell I want to sound like this all the time regardless of my mood)
   
   
7. Manu; the French Lisa.
   So I just happened to find the French version of me and I love her! She's extremely lovely and happy and can speak English with an adorable French accent. I walked and chatted to her when we all went to the harbor. Half English, half French, we talked about men and she told me about her feeling of being alone but not alone, being happy with your life but not being happy, wanting to share it with someone, but not share it with just anyone for the sake of sharing it, looking for someone where it doesn't feel like you're with them just to not be alone, being in love with someone who doesn't love you enough back, not wanting to settle, wanting a guy who is a gentleman, challenging, intelligent etc etc (ps I totally described all this in French with her, it was awesome) it went on and on back and forth and was uncanny how similar we were in our story/thoughts. She was really cool and I loved chatting to her. She also taught me the French word "Celibataire" (it needs an e accent, but I don't know how to do this on my laptop) which means "single" as in no boyfriend, until now I've been saying "seule" which also works, but I like this word more. I told her it sounds like a silly bear... or celebate in English. She didn't know what that meant, I told her it means abstaining from sex... she told me they don't have a word for that in French! Haha
   
   
8. Le cafe ici est tres petite et c'est tres adorable (The coffee here is very small and so god damn adorable!)
   It's weird! Their coffee is tiny! But I'm kind of hooked on this stuff, it's so delicious!
   
   
9. Charades is an international language. It's extremely scary but extremely gratifying to realise I can functionally communicate with Celine's parents when Celine goes to work during the day (they do NOT speak English). It's a bit daunting, but I'm really stoked when my French makes it over the net and their faces light up and they nod. The problem arises mainly when they answer me at top speed in French. But I smile and nod and catch a word here and there that gives context. When neither of us know what's going on I just repeat their words with a puzzled expression and then the game of charades begins!

Is it tradition in France to put crack in your coffee?

So that's the synopsis of the things I've learnt in France so far. Up next, a short guide of how to get lost in your new French town with Lisa Allen... a terribly stupid story