Bits and bobbles

Just a bunch of unrelated moments that didn’t merit their own posts.

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I went to Nice (the city) and had a great time. I was by myself, which I have discovered is my favorite way to travel. The bus trip was four hours so I napped and then walked from the station to Old Nice, the heart of the place with the oldest and narrowest streets. I walked the pebbly beach and listened to a bunch of Mediterranean guitar and watched guys do tricks on their roller skates. I hiked to the top of this little mountain that sort of sits at the East corner of Nice, and it had a surprise ancient fountain and great views, and a super neat cemetery. I bought a ham and butter sandwich (a typical lunch in South France) and people-watched. Saw an old church. Saw another old church.

Fun stuff! I took an Uber back to the bus station because I didn’t want to miss it, and the Uber car had a glass roof! Very excellent situation to drive down the Promenade des Anglais at magic hour in the back of a glass-top sudan. However, when I got to the station, I had already missed the last bus back to Aix, and if I walked, I would get home in 29 hours. So at about 11pm that night I hop on a bus that me and my American friends frantically located on the internet and made it back to my apartment at around 1am that morning. Live and learn!

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The other night I got home late after a dinner with friends in town, and I was worried that I would wake up my host mom. I snuck upstairs as quietly as I could, but when I reached the door, I saw that it was already open and the light was on. In fact, people were spilling into the hallway and music was playing. Malvina had about thirty people over for a party, everyone smoking, everyone sipping rum and wine, everyone speaking French. I found Malvina in the thick of it, all five foot three of her, wearing leather pants and a sparkly fringe top. She welcomed me and introduced me as her American and handed me a glass of pina colada.

Many of her guests treated me like a zoo animal (two ladies discussed my appearance and possible life story directly in front of me, and when I stopped them to tell them I understood French, they backed up and scooted away. But others were cool. A man asked me if I knew his son, who works for a shipping company in Chicago. I told him that we’ve definitely crossed paths.

The cake was really good. I do not know what the party was for.

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I had a special project last week for my literature and media class. Last Wednesday was International Francophone Day, so there was a hoopla. All us students were told to prepare a little creative what-have-you about a non-French Francophone person from history. I chose Frantz Fanon, a favorite philosopher of mine from Martinique. I sewed a little visual representation of his most famous work, Black Skin, White Masks, and wrote a little script about his life and work. Then I get to school, and there are about a hundred adults and a guy with a news camera and oh mon Dieu they are recording this in front of a live studio audience oh no OH NO. So I whimpered through five minutes of French and then hid in the hallway like a little baby. But I did it!

For those of you who know me personally, you know that I am not the kind of person to fear public speaking, or even to shy away from it particularly. I kinda love holding people’s attention. But this was in French, and there was a camera I was not warned about, and I didn’t know anyone in the crowd, and I hadn’t showered that morning so my hair was gross. Ugh. Life goes on.

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Alright, that’s enough for one blog post. I’ll go ahead and queue up another one soon.

Cordialement,

Allison

P.S.: I mean, come on, foreign language public speaking? On short notice?