Les courses pratiques

Moving to a new city requires one to faire pleine de petites courses (run many little errands). In Nevers, I have already, as I explained to one friend, encountered all of the rencontres quotidiennes (everyday situations) for which the vocabulary would be presented in a First-Year French textbook. For example, I have already mailed a package at la poste (the post office), fait les courses au supermarché (gone grocery shopping), stopped in at la banque (you guessed it- the bank), gotten a membership at la bibliothèque (the library), and of course grabbed something to eat at la boulangerie (the bakery). All of these things help one settle in, get used to a new city layout, and fill the long days before starting work.

It's funny to do all of these little everyday chores and to y prendre tant de plaisir (find such happiness in them). Obviously no one likes going to the post office, but when I have the time to go in the middle of the afternoon while everyone else in town is at work, I don't have to wait in line. In addition, there is the little joy that comes from having a conversation with someone new. At the post office, I was sending a package to the US, which led the person who was sitting at the window next to mine to ask where I was from. Having taken for granted the fact that she understood I was from the states --why else would anyone in France send a package yonder?-- I replied, "la Floride (Florida)". I expected her reaction to fall on the usual envy that French people typically express when I give this information. Instantly the image of Miami Beach comes to mind, and they think of sun, the ocean, and supermodel Brazilians sauntering the beach in skimpy bikinis. (No, really, I've had this conversation with many a frenchman.) However, the woman did not seem to be interested in my specific hometown but rather in her surprise at the fact that I was american at all. She commented that I didn't have the accent she was accustomed to hearing from other americans. In fact, the woman who was helping me chimed in and complimented me specifically on my pronunciation of Rs. I explained to the women that I had vécu un an (lived for a year) in Toulouse. The three of us then laughed, knowing that my accent, thankfully, was far from the accent toulousain (the accent from Toulouse), which mangles the end of most words and includes a distinct, if french, twang. I sent my package with no problem, and the woman even told me that it should arrive at its destination in less than a week-- wouldn't that be un rêve (a dream)!

One other little tak that I found amusing in the past few days was heading the Conservatoire (the nationalized music school) to ask about singing in a chorus or taking voice lessons. There, la directrice (the director, who happens to be a woman) was very open and friendly and assured me that once the choir's program finishes, at the end of this month around the 25th, she would be in touch with me to give me a spot. We chatted for a while about the differences between the French and American systems of enseignement musical (musical education). In the United States, we are lucky to have a system of schools that, for the most part and for the time being, have integrated music programs. France, en revanche (in contrast), keeps their music separate from their academics, and each town or city has, in general, one conservatoire where students of all levels go to study music through a nationalized curriculum. I explained to the woman that I imagined that if I had been raised in such a system, I may never have pursued music, since my working parents had other things to do than drag me all over town for special classes. I certainly wouldn't have been able to practice music the way I did at Dickinson. Furthermore, the liaison (link) between my performance pursuits and my academic field of study, la musicologie (musicology, or more generally music history) would never have arisen-- at Dickinson I chose my major serendipitously, although definitely not capriciously. De l'autre côté, (on the other hand), I explained, if I had been in France and had begun musical studies at the age that I did in the US, I would have had a better chance to have more career aspirations in the performance realm. Since the promise of a concerted performance track never really presented itself in the conditions I was in, my performance was always more of a hobby than anything else. In any case, we agreed that the systems each have advantages and contraints (limits), and that as long as the population at large has access to music, the society is not at too much risk. La directrice also shared with me her successes in Nevers, which include bringing, only two years ago, the American composer Eric Ewazen (one of my favorite contemporary composers) to the city to coach a performance of his Concerto for Trombone. In all, she was a dame souriante, acceuillante et gentille (smiling, welcoming, nice lady), and I am excited to be able to work with her and benefit from the little conservatory structure.

Sinon, quoi d'autre est-ce que j'ai fait de beau... ? (Otherwise, what other interesting things have I done...?) Ah, yes. Yesterday le papa de Françoise (Françoise's dad) came to visit, as he does once a week, to help out with some little home maintenance things. He is 82 years old and was an engineer and team manager for la SNCF (the nationalized railroad company). Since he retired, he likes to do little projects, and as he lives à 25 kilomètres (25 kilometers away), he likes to spend time with his daughter. Yesterday, among other tasks, he tuned up one of the family's vélos (bikes) for me to use. It's red and a bit short, but I think it'll be just perfect for petites aventures (little adventures). I'm going to test it out this morning before taking a train for Dijon where I will be attending a workshop for all the foreign language assistants in Bourgogne (Burgundy, the region where Nevers, Dijon, and lots of good wine and cheese are from). I don't have any more courses à faire (errands to run) for the moment, although I guess the new issue of the hébdomadaire Courrier International (the weekly newspaper International Courrier) comes out today, so I could pick that up at la presse (the newspaper shop/stand) to have something to read on the train.

Je sors, alors, donc à bientôt ! (Well, I'm going out now, so I'll leave another message soon!)

Gros bisous,

Mégane (At how many of these places did I have to tell someone that my prenom (first name) doesn't have an e? All of them!)