To Catch a Thief

I'm in an Alfred Hitchcock mood. That is, somewhat catty and melodramatic, but also well-composed and ironic.

Someone stole my picnic table two nights ago and played kick ball with a potted plant. I cleaned up the plant and talked to my landlords about the table. Their little son said, with a worried look on his face,"Mais comme il y a des gens méchants!" ("Some people are just not very nice!")

They--possibly the thieves, or some other wise guy in the neighborhood-- also defaced my window shutters with a bad word. I found the permanent marker "F---" so ghastly I took to it last night with nail polish remover. It mostly came off, but there is some residual marker, and I didn't want to scrub too hard and ruin the green paint.

I don't know how things are done in France: if my landlords will chalk it up to a loss and forget it, or if they will press charges. There were a bunch of rowdy young men (that I heard--there could have been women too) outside my flat that night. I was in bed already and assumed they would just go away on their own. Well, they did and took the table with them! They must have been strong, or had a car, or disassembled it, because that was a big-ass wooden table. 

I feel terrible about it, though I know it's not my fault. The gate to my garden is not very secure--about four and a half feet tall with just a bitty lock anyone can reach over and unlock:

The sad thing is, petty crime seems to run rampant around here, in and around Marseilles. I've heard horror stories about three guys in Marseilles (also teaching assistants--from last year) who were in their kitchen on the third floor of an apartment building, when some thugs came in through the front door (with guns) and robbed them; I believe it was mostly computers and electronic equipment they stole. The guys moved out the next week.

But still! If someone stole my computer, I know at the moment I don't have the means to replace it! Then again, who would steal this computer? They'd have to be desperate: it's five years old and needs a new battery.

Then, there was a girl who's another teaching assistant this year who had large amounts of money stolen from her twice. I can't remember the first amount, but it was one of her first days in Marseilles, the money stolen by a pickpocket.. She came with her parents and they thought Marseilles (by reputation) was far too dangerous, so they asked the Academie  to give her a new placement outside the city. She still comes in to Marseilles on the weekends (don't we all, who live in neighboring small towns?) and had 300 Euros in cash on her, which was stolen from her purse at a club.

Needless to say, things could have been much worse, and I am unsettled, but hopefully things will be set straight. At least the thieves did not steal my canvas chairs, which went with the table--they didn't think enough of making a matching set!

Should Old Acquaintance Be Forgot?

Happy New Year!

It's that time of year again--the end of it! 

Though all of the hullabaloo over the end of the world about a week ago was all for naught, we can turn the pages of our calendars, or put up new ones, to celebrate the turning of Earth on its axis yet again. For those of us using the Gregorian calendar (i.e. most of us in the Western world) it will shortly become 2013! 

Wow...it seems like yesterday it was 2012! And it was. Sometimes I wake up thinking it's still 2008. Is there such a disease as understanding the movement of time but not internalizing it? If there is, I might have it. I don't know where my time goes. I don't know if it hides from me until it runs out and gives up, or if I don't give it enough incentive to stick around...maybe I just waste it, and Time has decided to bank on better options.

I am a terrible procrastinator, something those nearest and dearest to me have known for a long time. I never send birthday cards on time. My applications, essays, work assignments, etc., sit undone until the eleventh hour. I arrive "fashionably late" to basically every event I'm invited to. I think they will prove some day soon that procrastination is genetic, since my dad and sister are worse than I am, and despite hundreds upon thousands of times they could change, they just don't--and neither do I. It's become so bad that anyone who knows us well enough always gives us invitations for 30 minutes ahead of schedule, assuming we'll be 30 minutes late, i.e. on time.

Here in the South of France, it's not a big deal to be late. In the scheme of things, the French are often called schizo-chronic, a crazy and unpredictable time schedule somewhere between poly-chronic time managers and mono-chronic time managers. In Paris, things are more fast-paced and the schedules seem to run more toward the Germanic/Britannic time schedule (mono-chronic) but in the south, like Marseilles, or here in La Ciotat, things are much more laid back and Mediterranean (poly-chronic). Just about everything can wait until tomorrow. Feathers aren't ruffled by much. 

It's nice in a way...like all the stress I cause by being late in a mono-chronic culture really isn't worth it. I can rip up my schedule and have another cup of coffee before I hit the road, because everyone else--socially and professionally--is going to be "fashionably late" like me! It's a good feeling.

Bonne Année à tous!

Christmastime, Christmastime is Here Again!

Merry Christmas! I know this is late, but my Christmas was pretty packed. 

After moping for the better part of a a couple of days thinking I'd have to spend it alone, I got two last-minute invitations to Christmas dinner--one Christmas Eve in Marseilles, the other Christmas Day in La Ciotat. Neither dinner was "traditional" in the strict sense, but then again nowadays, who does that? "Traditional" is sort of code for "boring" in my opinion. Not always, but often enough. 

I tagged along to an invite from my friend Marianne on Christmas Eve. She is actually Jewish, so the holiday doesn't mean much to her, but we were celebrating with Frenchies. We had Thai and tons of desserts--a bûche de noël among others. It was a lot of fun!

On Christmas Day, I went to the house of one of my fellow teachers, Valérie. who had her family over for dinner. It was delightful, though she said her Christmas dinner wasn't exactly "traditional" either. She made risotto and roast beef, which is apparently "too Italian" to be French, though we did have a lovely salad and cheese selection along with lots of desserts. She made a fruitcake for the first time. I thought it turned out well.

Here are some "fesitve" pictures of La Ciotat! They put up fish as their town Christmas decorations near the port...I'm guessing in an attempt to cash in on the "traditional fishing village" motif? If Cassis can do it, so can they, after all!

Joyeuses Fêtes!

Guard Dog: Marseilles

Little doggie sitting in front 

Of the door to the fur coat shop

So sad

And yet so vicious!

Who needs a fur coat in Marseilles, anyway?

Marseilles in Pictures

I got another chance to go to Marseilles last Wednesday for my medical exam at the OFII - Office Français de l'Immigration et l'Intégration - not all that much fun, but necessary. 

First, they make you take an x-ray of your lungs to be sure you don't have tuberculosis (I don't); then they give you a very quick medical exam: they take your vitals, ask about your overall health, vaccines you've had, and then they hurry you out the door. You then fill out a form and get your pièce de séjour and then you're legal. 

I spent a couple of hours wandering around the city after getting my visa, and took pictures of course!

Eglise des Réformés:

Arc de Triomphe de Marseille:

Cathedral de Marseille:

Palais de la Bourse:

Vieux Port, which is currently obstructed by road construction:

Il était une fois...

In 1720, the bubonic plague came to Provence--but--it did not come to La Ciotat.



An oriental ship docked in the harbor of Marseille unloaded cargo and, unintentionally, the black rats (and fleas) who spread the disease. Word spread through Provence, and the administrators of La Ciotat decided to close the gates of the town, not to let anyone in or out for an entire year, until the disease had run its course. Only one person in La Ciotat died from bubonic plague: a little girl, who has a monument dedicated to her downtown.

Because only one person died, the town celebrates this historical moment every year in a celebration called "1720" and this year there was a musical as well as a medieval village constructed--sort of like the French version of Medieval Times (or Heritage Hill for those who know Green Bay). I did not go to the musical because tickets were sold out and had to be reserved ahead of time. The village was also apparently smaller than usual, because they are doing two shows next year, one in the spring, since Marseilles is going to be the European Capital of Culture in 2013.

 The 1720-1721 Peste de Marseille was the last recorded outbreak of the disease in Europe, from the original epidemic in the 14th century through the Middle Ages to the 18th century and beyond. The bacteria still exists today, and can still be deadly, but it is normally treated with intravenous antibiotics and is only spread from human to human in later stages. That is to say, modern doctors can (in most cases) pinpoint and stop the disease before it becomes deadly or contagious, but it still needs to be done in 24 to 36 hours.

I went down to the Vieux port with the other assistants. We had a good time taking in all the sights and sounds (and smells) of the past. Food, music, and lots of townfolk, sailors, fisherman, and artisans livened up the port into a real party.

E. with donkey

There were butchers, bakers, candlestick makers...no, seriously! Plus washerwomen, glass blowers, traditional instrumental musicians, plague victims rising from the dead to dance... R. and I even got "kidnapped" by Portuguese pirates! It goes to show: anything can happen in a place like La Ciotat!

washerwomen

bakers

That's a gaita, not a bagpipe.

Meeting in Marseille*

Last week, I went with the other language assistants to Marseilles for our orientation meeting. We didn't get to see much of the city, since we were in meetings the whole day, but I met some interesting people! 

There are a lot of administrative steps to becoming the proud owner of a titre de long séjour and they're all basically unavoidable. I hate to imagine asking for a long stay visa without the help of a government institution like the regional school board (or similar). I have not had any snafus yet (crossing fingers), so the forms to fill out are less of an evil than a number of other things I can think of--like smoking in an enclosed area where there are small children (seemingly also unavoidable in France).

Marseilles has the reputation of being a rough-and-tumble sort of place. By that, I mean there is a lot of mafia and gang violence, not to mention petty thieves and mainstay small crimes. It is also one of the most diverse cities in France, as well as an active seaport. All of these factors have built the city quite a reputation! The European Commission must see the good side of all this, because Marseilles has been named the European Capital of Culture for 2013. 

Aside from running into a Nigerian woman at a bar who chatted us up and then had no money to pay for her drinks, nothing out of the ordinary happened to us while we were in Marseilles. The train ride from La Ciotat is about a half hour, which makes it quite a nice little day trip. And, since there is a lot of construction going on to gentrify the city for its honorific Capital of Culture year, I am glad I'm not living there, for the moment being. Aside from being annoying, I wonder how it will improve the city.

Pictures to come! I did not bring my camera this time, but I have a medical appointment in Marseilles at some point (immigration stuff) and will return to the city...certainly for other reasons as well!


*In French, the name of the city is written without an "s." Can anyone tell me why an "s" is added in English?