After finally getting a train from the airport to Lille (it was complicated because there was an unexpected delay coming from Iceland) I looked out the window and had to keep reminding myself that I’m in France. The scenery looks almost identical to the Willamette Valley. Passing farm land there was lots of green, even the shrubbery along the train tracks and rolling hills look identical to what I’d pass on I-5. Two obvious differences stand out: The homes that scatter across the landscape are very triangular in the roof shape and smaller and slightly higher than the homes in the U.S. The other difference is the wine turbines that stretch out like arms reaching from over the hill. They remind me of gangly tweens doing cartwheels as the wind turbine’s blades slowly and steadily turn. It’s sunny which is great because I’ve only heard stories of how rainy Lille is. Being so close to the English Channel I have no doubt that the stories are true, but I’m enjoying the sun’s welcome. It makes any situation seem a little more cheery.
A fun term I learned today is to “parler yaourt,” which means to “speak yogurt.” It’s used to describe the French who make sounds to try to sound like Americans, but they aren’t actually speaking words. It’s typically heard when singing, which I’d believe. During my study abroad a few tween boys were singing “Girls Just Want to Have Fun” but weren’t really saying the words, just repeating the sounds they heard- I love the yogurt imagery. America music and fashion are very popular here. I’m down the street from a clothing line called “The New Yorker” that sports clothes that I assume are supposed to be what the French think New Yorkers dress like but I have yet to see any American dress like those mannequins.
One of My Two Schools
Getting to the hotel was a disaster. To put the long story into a nutshell, the staff at my hotel don’t work on weekends (surprise!) so arriving on a Sunday was a mistake. I was locked outside with no way in, no room information, just my suitcase. The payphone wasn’t accepting my phone card and I was alone with no where to go and no one to turn to after about 24 hours of straight traveling and only the nuts my aunt gave me for the plane. A kind stranger (who I found out later is a student in Lille from Morocco) found me crying next to the pay phone and decided to take the time to help so by 8:45pm, almost 4 hours after arriving in Lille I was in my room and had a baguette and cheese for my meal for the day.
So Monday, my first full day in Lille, I introduced myself to my main school and then spent my afternoon walking the streets looking for a place to live in Lille. All the signs that said rent were just for businesses but the Lille Tourism bureau was able to give me a brochure on housing that I’ve been going through. After that I took a break when I found a cafe called “Le Pain Quotidien” that looked like a cute place to eat. The baguette and cheese I had as my one meal yesterday also served as breakfast today so I was famished and that smoked chicken with freshly shredded Parmesan over greenery hit the spot.
My first meal in Lille. My journal that goes every where with me is next to the food
