I think therefore I greve

I have a theory that this is actually what Descartes said, and the French just changed it up to make it sound profound.  Greve is the French word for strike.   France is known worldwide for its strikes, and let me tell you, this is one stereotype that is incredibly true. The above picture is where I'm supposed to have class tonight....

Practically since the moment I got here, my university has been on some level of strike or another.  More recently, it has intensified significantly, which is what prompted me to write about it.  Originally, the professors went on strike, saying that they were unhappy with several new measures the government wants to take in education reform.  I won't bore you with the details of these reforms as I have been drilled on them far too often myself.  I assure you though, to an average American, they seem like nothing to get your knickers all bunched up about.  Anyway, for the past month, I have been going to class never actually sure if it was going to take place.  Most of the time, however, it did.

This previous Tuesday, I had a "dissertation" (this doesn't have the same sense as in English, it's what we would call a paper or an essay) due in my literature class.  As per usual, I put off writing it until the night before and merely decided to pull an all-nighter.  I finished my paper around 1 in the afternoon the following day (with a break for a different class in between).  At approximately 1:15 I got the word that the university had been blocked.  This basically means that the students decided to join the strike efforts of their professors and in doing so, blocked off all the doors to all of the buildings with piles of chairs, tables, and various other pieces of junk.  A little dramatic, don't you think?

Needless to say, ca me fait chier (the French for "I'm pissed off"...literally it translates to "that makes me shit...HAH).  To begin with, I'm all for socialized education being that I'm currently more than 50,000 dollars in debt to various banks and government organizations.  I love the fact that all these French student pay a minimal 300 euros or so for a year of college.  This doesn't change the fact that I have to pay out my ass to go here, and if I'm going to do that, I at least want to receive some semblance of an education.  Additionally, if my courses continue to not meet, the University of Minnesota program department here makes us write papers to make up for the missed classes.  I would prefer not to do this.  Lastly, I was slightly chagrinned about having stayed up all night to write the paper that I was physically prevented from turning in by a pile of furniture.  

My first inclination has been to scream at the top of my lungs, "STOP WHINING AND GO TO SCHOOL YOU LAZY TWITS!"  Instead, I'm just trying really hard to understand.  I'm coming to realize that it is incredibly difficult for Americans to fully comprehend the greve.  I got a laugh out of a teacher when I said that "La grêve est la manière dont les français exprime leur mécontentement."  Or, the strike is quite simply how the French express their malcontent.  It replaces what we call "writing an angry letter" or "making a slightly miffed phone call."  The French instead head directly to the streets.  I had a professor last semester that said, "Real change only comes when you take to the streets."  Granted, this man confessed to having only voted for the socialist workers party in every election he's ever voted in.  Their candidate for president in 2008, Roger Calero, got a rousing 356 votes in the state of Minnesota, and I'm pretty sure that was one of his better showings.  So really, I'm not sure how smart this professor of mine was.  

At the end of the day, I've decided I merely lack sympathy for professors that refuse to teach over marginally trivial matters of state.  These are people who have supposedly dedicated their lives towards the pursuit of education and passing what they know down to the next generation.  Strikes quite simply interrupt the academic process.  In this way, they don't add any sort of validity, which I believe is the point of the greve in the first place.  

To quote Monty Python...and now for something completely different.

I'm having an impossibly lazy day in Montpellier right now.  To be honest, I haven't left my bed yet except for the necessities.  I've been reading this terrible book called "A Year in the Merde" about an incredibly pompous and self-involved British man who lived in Paris for a year.  Some of his commentary on French life is very true.  Such as, yes there is dog shit everywhere.  Yes, they do use suppositories (I know right???).  And yes, they eat cheese here that smells like something out of my high school locker room.  A friend came over last night who has actually been living in France for quite some time now.  We bought a wheel of cheese to have with dinner which she promised only had a "slight smell" to it.  This was utter bullshit.  Before I knew it, my entire apartment was overpowered by a face wrinkling stench.  I had to pull out every single experience I've ever had on stage as to not seem uncultured.  But that's neither here nor there.  I think this lazy day was inspired by a recent realization that it is absolutely impossible to always be moving, even if you're only in Europe for 5 months.  I have a tendency of feeling guilty every minute I'm not up doing something adventurous.  Quite frankly, I don't have that kind of money or energy anymore.  I don't know what it is, but I feel markedly older than most of the other people on this program.  This is probably because I only have the capacity to get drunk once or twice a week.  

However, next weekend I'm going to Morocco with what energy I have left.  There I am meeting my friends Colin and Irina from school.  The original plan was for me to go for the entire week, skipping a week of school.  But unfortunately, with the strike likely to be over by then, if school happens, I absolutely must go.  I also have a test in one of my courses that is specifically for foreign students, which meets greve or not.  So I was thus forced to turn it only into a weekend getaway.  I'm pretty sure Colin and Irina are mad about this.  Otherwise, I feel like I'm running out of time to get everywhere that I want to before the end of the semester.  I haven't found anyone to travel with after the semester is over yet, and I'm not even sure if I'll have the money/energy to do it.  So time is of the essence.  I still want to get to Switzerland, Spain, Italy, Germany, Prague, and Greece.  Hmph....somehow I feel like that won't happen.  

Overall, here's what I've learned about French people since moving here.  The French have turned merely existing in daily life into an art form.  There's a specific and complicated skill to everything here.  Buying bread at the patisserie requires more than just knowing the words for different kinds of bread.  One must purchase it like the French do, or risk being outed as tourist.  Certain breads are only purchased at certain times of day.  Others are baked merely for immediate consumption.  These are things you can't possibly know until you've lived here for a bit.  Getting service in a restaurant...forget about it.  This requires a coach and many practice sessions per week.  Just getting people to warm up to you is difficult.  In the states, I usually make some sarcastic, yet not insulting, joke to break the ice.  The French don't understand sarcasm though, and jokes of any nature simply won't suffice.  It's become kind of a game for me trying to get shopkeepers to smile.  I doubt I'll ever win though.  

Alright...enough now.

Best,

Corey