date: Fri, Jan 15, 2009
subject: La première semaine d’ecole c’est fini (pau)!
Bonjour mes amis,
I hope this note finds you all healthy and happy AND warm, because it’s been crazy cold here. Just today it’s gotten a bit warmer–meaning I’m just wearing one pair of silk long underwear and not two. By the way, thank you Mom for that tip. You saved me a lot of uncomfortable hours shaking uncontrollably in the classroom (which is what I did on Monday since I didn’t think to put them on!).
Today is Friday the 15th of January and I’ve just finished my first week of school. It’s 3 p.m. and I’m sitting in an internet/telephone place where I’m hearing just as much Arabic as French. I found a place, which must be close to the university. I was happy to stumble past it this morning when I boldly decided to find another route to school. I had found a chique shop right on la Saône (one of the 3 rivers, joke to follow), which I had passed most days as I took the 20 to 30 minute walk to school. It cost 2.50 euro an hour and this one is only two an hour . . . . okay, I’m watching my pennies (or centines, or something fairly close. . . .).
Okay, time to get on track. First of all, mahalo to the encouraging words which came my way, AND mahalo too to those who did not write. When I use the ordi (short chique word for computer) I try to not be too piggish. We are all wanting to check our email after all, (the universal umbilical cord these days, je pense).
The two-hour train ride to Lyon from Paris was pleasantly uneventful. 13:54 was a perfect time to depart. I was able to sleep in a bit, get a free meal at the hotel (the guy who had checked me had said I’d have to pay 8 euro. That’s why I chose go next door that first morning; I figured that if I had to pay, why not go somewhere nice. Not that the hotel wasn’t nice, but it’s full of you know, tourists like me. Yep, it’s the ultimate hypocrisy to travel and then not be around tourist.) Sooooo the last morning I decided to go for speed rather than style. Sure enough, I was crammed into a tiny room with a bunch of other loud obnoxious tourists (no, there weren’t any Americans there but Europeans have learned much from us too) and was given mediocre bread, croissant and instant decaf coffee (my choice). But it did buy me time to have another pleasant hour wandering around the Sacre Coeur area. Okay, I admit it. It’s fun to pretend I’m Amelie . . . .
Back to the train. It was really cool actually. I was on a TGV, which means “train goes vite.” And it really does, go fast that is. It was a double-decker and I got to be on top. I had the 2 seats facing backwards to myself. It probably would have been a great place to watch the scenery if I hadn’t immediately fallen asleep after eating my wonderful sandwich (jambon et fromage dans un baguette).
Oh, and yet again did a confused tourist come to me for help. I know what you’re thinking Hannah and Dwight, pourquoi toi? It must be my très gentille visage. (Okay WIT ladies, maybe next time I can play a mean femme and show you all that I can really act. AND alright Michele, I know what you’re thinking too . . . . but let’s not go there). This Chinese woman who spoke beautiful French kept showing me her ticket and asking à Lyon? Oui, oui I replied.
You have to insert your train ticket in that little box before boarding; it stamps a time signature on it. If you don’t, the nice ticket person who later comes along and asks to see your ticket won’t be happy. And why wouldn’t you want to make that person happy?
I’ll let you in on a little secret. After I got on the train and found my place, just to be sure, I turned to the wholesome looking French couple who were probably returning to their home in the country and asked, “À Lyon?” “Oui, oui!” they replied.
Once at Part Dieu, Lyon’s main gare, it was pretty easy to find my way to my new home for six semaines.
Thanks to Tony, I yet again had a handy google map in hand. The hour-long walk took me to le Rhone (the 2nd of the 3 rivers in Lyon). Being Sunday afternoon and mostly sunny (but très, très froid!) there were lots of families out enjoying the cool parks along the river.
I halfway wanted to stop and slide down one of the stainless steel slides, which goes from the top level where the roadway is to the lower level where the river bank is, but I thought my suitcase might get stuck. Plus, it was àè”&§ freezing!!!
Alors, then I crossed one of many, many bridges to get to the center part of Lyon. I kept on going and then crossed yet another river (la Saône, the first river I mentioned pages and pages ago). Now à droit along this river for bit until it was time to cross the street and chercher pour quai Pierre Scize/69005 Lyon. (hint, hint if you want to send ME une carte postale which I can show my classmates, send it c/o la Madame, merci beaucoup!)
Okay, Mister LeHoven had kindly taken me on a spin along google earth to see what quai Pierre Scize looked like. We had been taken to the area but couldn’t find the exact appartement. I’ll be darned if the same thing didn’t happen to me! Alors, there’s a number that’s close, but where is Madame’s apartment? Could it possibly be this massive rock wall, which has a statue of something male and all in white? No. But fortunately this fool had at least enough wits about her to take a look at the building on the OTHER side of the rock wall; no, not behind the wall, but rather beside it. This massive, eight story, 100-year old building didn’t have a number (and why not I ask myself?); but at least it did have names with a little button to push beside each one. Voila, ca c’est la Madame. “Je suis Susan.” “Vien à sixième étage.” “Quelle étage?” “6th.” (mais non, pas en anglais, en francais, bien sur!)
Like most old buildings of this type, there is a foyer with mail boxes and such on the right. Toward the back and on the left are a couple of stairs, which lead to the smallest elevator in the world.
I kid you not. There’s a très petite sign which says “tiniest elevator in the world®.” At least I think that’s what it says. I am a beginner after all.
There was just enough room in the elevator for my suitcase–with it standing UP, not on its side! I dragged it up the stairs, placed it inside the elevator, pushed 6, and très vite, closed the door. I held my breath for a minute
Ecole Suisse de Langue à Lyon
