The Pre-Xmas Blog

There is another strike on in France today. When I say another one I don't mean another one this year, or another one since the last one. What I should say is the entire country is on a perpetual strike. It affected me today, though. As a cycle commuter and person who does not work within the countries systems, the Constant Strike (what I would like to rename France) culture here rarely affects me. But it did today. And I am mad.

It's become a joke, really, the strikes here. The Solidarité the French are so in love with. In Bordeaux there is a beautiful centre area called Victoire. It has a monument for the Second World War and the buildings around it are all a part of the UNESCO world heritage site that is the downtown core. But every time I am down there it is crawling with union workers waving banners and banging drums against some sort of whatever.

Another incredibly not funny joke is our internet situation. It's been two months now and the entire country can't seem to figure out how to get us internet in our home. I spend hours of my days, every day, walking from my house to a café or library (which are rarely open - the hours are 2pm to 6pm on a good day) and sometimes five or six euros on things I don't want or need just so I can sit in a place and communicate with the outside world. That is what the internet is to me - my one and only communication tool here, in country I dislike, away from all my friends and family. Is it too much to ask to have a means of communicating?

Today we had planned to go into the city, where, of course, there would be mass protests (imagine what an amazing and positive impact France could have on the world if they spent their time and energy on something other than whining and complaining) but where there might also be some festive music, lights and activities. It is, afterall, the Christmas season. We left our house at noon and upon arriving at the tram station and buying our tickets, to our dismay, we noticed a small and barely legible sign saying there is a strike today. No trams are running. We walked another half an hour to the centre of our little village called Pessac, where I knew of a bus that should take us into Bordeaux. It left at 1:13. Perfect. We arrived to the station at 1:10.

Here, we waited until 1:40. No bus arrived. Several other people had gather to also wait, but we turned around before finding out if they ever got where they needed to go. Instead, we went to the train station, which has a train into Bordeaux every ten minutes or so. It wasn't our first choice because the Bordeaux train station is a half an hour walk from Victoire. It was better than not going into town though. but I was beginning to wonder. When we arrived at the train station, we found out there is a gap in service on Saturdays. No trains run between 1 and 3 pm. The next train was due to arrive at 15:12. I was near tears.

Maybe to some of you are reading this now and thinking, 'well, come on, McGrew, what's the big deal?' And to you I might nod my head in agreement but argue that if you had no friends, no family, and this was about the tenth time in one month where this had happened to you, not to mention it was zero degrees, rainy and windy, you might conceed to it being a crappy moment. One of many lately.

I'm at home now, hating France as a write this. What else can I blame it on? But I shouldn't complain. I have food, water, shelter, and a wonderful partner who loves and supports me. But is that enough? If it isn't, am I asking too much? Is it too much to ask that public transit actually run on time or run at all? Is it too much to ask that France Telecom, the government operated telephone company, hook up our phone line when they say, let alone two months after the fact? Is it too much to ask that is stop raining just for one afternoon let alone a few days in a row so the roof will stop leaking? I guess the answer to all of these questions is 'yes.' Oui, d'accord...it is too much. It is too much to ask for anything here, I am learning. Maybe that is why French people are constantly out parading around and shouting slogans. Maybe I need to get on some sort of committee and vent my frustrations. Instead of dreaming of things like pouring boiling water on my feet or breaking a glass and taking all the shards in my hands and squeezing, hard - I should take those feelings and use them somewhere else.

For now, I am drinking a hot chocolate (which I managed to boil over and it is now all over the kitchen) and trying to brainstorm how I will survive here until July. July! I have to be here seven more months. It feels like a jail sentence now. So far, the one and only thing I have come up with that I like here is the fresh markets (only on Sundays though and everything else is completely closed Sundays - everything! - which almost cancels out the Sunday market goodness). OK, so I need a few others. I like how it is easy for me to find organic food here. And I like how I can have a healthy body here, I can make good food choices because I understand the label and the air and water are clean (unlike China - but no more special than Finland, Canada, or a zillion other countries I would rather be in now).

Maybe I need to look back at some pictures. Cause it can't all have been so bad the last few months. I've only cried once a week; not daily, since arriving.

This pic is something I see almost daily, on my run through the park near our home called Le Burque.

Our first and only visitor so far was Neil, my hommie, originally from the Tiger Leaping Gorge (June 2008) then also seen in Hawaii Xmas/New Years 2008/9 and not long after the Tribute to 500 Year Old Churches, our surf odyssey through the UK, the summer of 2009.

We tried, and failed (again) at finding waves to surf together. But in the process went to Europe's largest sand dunes. And walked for over 6 hours on them (not my choice...Neil is one determined guy).

At least it was sunny and warm. Until the hail storm came. At least it was beautiful.

Aside from that, I am working with IELTS here now (finally and thank god) and my first exam was in Toulouse, a two hour train ride Southeast, and France's fourth largest city at 1.2 million people. It was an incredibly gorgeous city and I forgot to bring my camera but am luckily heading back for more IELTS in early January so will for sure get some more pictures to post. The buildings are all pink. And we saw a few sixty year old hookers. Both equally exciting! Aside from that, it seemed much more 'South of France' to us. And it is the European center for aeronautics engineering.

That's about it so far. Being an expatriate in a country like France is a big shift from China. Here, I don't look different or even seem different until I have a few sentences or more out. It isn't immediately apparent like in Asia. This has it's perks but definitely it's draw backs. For instance, it's been much harder finding friends here. China is a closed culture, as much so, I would say, as France. So it's not that. It's that I don't stand out here. There is nothing special about me. Why would anyone want to be friends with just a regular girl?

Lastly, the next post will be in early January from Finland. So Merry Christmas to you all and happy new year! I cannot even begin to list the one thousand things I am looking forward to this Christmas in Finland. And I am really looking forward to reporting them all (including but not limited to the polar bear swim I promised to do with Sebastian's grandma, the ski trip we are planning with his brothers, the amazing new foods and my constant supply of glug) just as soon as I have collected enough pics to describe the madness of a place that gets less than 5 hours of light during this time of year!!!!!!