Sunday, April 19, 2009
Marché Saint-Marc
One of my favorite things about France (or Europe in general) is the abundance of markets. I feel like one can find anything at these gatherings. There is everything from fresh fruit to used watches to bedding that one can purchase. Each market is pretty similar to the other however the market that I went to this morning was different than any of the others.
The age of the market attendees was the first thing I noticed. I went at ten in the morning. Considering that people (university students) don't even start their night until 12, the market was empty of the young crowd. Instead it was filled with mainly older couples and retirees. Older scarf-wearing women with their rolling grocery sacs and men with their khaki trench coats, hats, and bifocals were making their way through the market.
This market looked like a couple antique stores had been expelled from their premises. There were stalls upon stalls of old china, paintings, clocks, jewelry, and in general treasures from yesteryear. One could look through piles of BD's from the 70's or at records of American artists with French titles. Many times as I was rifling through bins, I found items that still had their prices in Francs. Considering that France stopped using the Franc a decade ago, I got the feeling that many of these items had been on display for a while.
Although there were stalls with a "nouvelle collection," as a whole, the market felt like it was like a Salvation Army. Where someone's old junk becomes another's "treasure." I walked away with purchases that I think probably came from the bottom of some Frenchman's closet. And someday it will become junk that came from the bottom of some American woman's closet.
The age of the market attendees was the first thing I noticed. I went at ten in the morning. Considering that people (university students) don't even start their night until 12, the market was empty of the young crowd. Instead it was filled with mainly older couples and retirees. Older scarf-wearing women with their rolling grocery sacs and men with their khaki trench coats, hats, and bifocals were making their way through the market.
This market looked like a couple antique stores had been expelled from their premises. There were stalls upon stalls of old china, paintings, clocks, jewelry, and in general treasures from yesteryear. One could look through piles of BD's from the 70's or at records of American artists with French titles. Many times as I was rifling through bins, I found items that still had their prices in Francs. Considering that France stopped using the Franc a decade ago, I got the feeling that many of these items had been on display for a while.
Although there were stalls with a "nouvelle collection," as a whole, the market felt like it was like a Salvation Army. Where someone's old junk becomes another's "treasure." I walked away with purchases that I think probably came from the bottom of some Frenchman's closet. And someday it will become junk that came from the bottom of some American woman's closet.
Wednesday, April 15, 2009
D'accord Dakar
So our third and final Francophone country that we studied in was Senegal. It is the most Western country of Africa, it's capital Dakar being the farthest west. We went for a week to take classes on Senegalese customs, values and language as well as traveling and seeing as much as we could in 8 days. Needless to say, it was quite a full schedule.
I stayed in a host family with my friend Thahitun that was not far from the Baobab Center, the headquarters of ACI. This is where we had our classes and served as a center point for everything that we did. Our house was about a 15 minute walk from the center.
Coming into this trip after spending a summer in Malawi, I didn't realize the expectations I had unconsciously made. I expected it to be more modern and more western than what my idea of "Africa" was. For the most part I was right but there were some things that threw me for a loop. For instance, there were horses and buggies everywhere. I figure it is a sign that the country is more prosperous because people can afford horses but it was such a weird contrast between the large government buildings and the sickly skinny horse pulling a make-shift buggy. Was not expecting that.
Another thing that struck me was when I walked past a Muslim man praying on the sidewalk next to his stall. I am a religious studies major but I had never, in person, seen any part of Muslim worship. Since Senegal is 95% Muslim, I was exposed to many different aspects of Muslim life. First semester Freshman year was all coming back to me. It was really an interesting experience.
Thursday, April 2, 2009
FIVE weeks?!?!
This semester is almost over, you can sense it in the air.
There is evidence of it everywhere. A sheet tacked up on the wall recording return flight information in the office. People are searching for summer jobs. Arranging rides to Charles de Gaulle, sharing traveling plans, and getting depressed about leaving have become a common part of conversation.
We still have a month, yes. However knowing the way that time flies here we know that worrying about leaving a month ahead of time is not that much of a stretch. It is kind of sad that we have to leave Rouen and France when the weather and everything is so nice. When we came the weather was so dreary and cold. Now, when it is perfect strolling sans manteau weather, we have to leave. I am trying hard not to think about how sad it will be. Just focusing on the here and now and enjoying the time that I have left.
There is evidence of it everywhere. A sheet tacked up on the wall recording return flight information in the office. People are searching for summer jobs. Arranging rides to Charles de Gaulle, sharing traveling plans, and getting depressed about leaving have become a common part of conversation.
We still have a month, yes. However knowing the way that time flies here we know that worrying about leaving a month ahead of time is not that much of a stretch. It is kind of sad that we have to leave Rouen and France when the weather and everything is so nice. When we came the weather was so dreary and cold. Now, when it is perfect strolling sans manteau weather, we have to leave. I am trying hard not to think about how sad it will be. Just focusing on the here and now and enjoying the time that I have left.
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