Refraction

One of the hardest things for me to keep straight in French is the difference between ‘tu’ and ‘vous’. I mean, obviously I know the difference, but I haven’t internalized it… it often happens that I start a sentence with ‘vous’ and switch to ‘tu’ halfway through. I figure I get a semi-free pass as a foreigner, though.

Anyway, this is only relevant because I was in Munich recently, wandering around Marienplatz. It’s right by the city centre: tons of shopping to do, quite touristy overall. One of these survey people (I think) came up to me and asked, “Sprichst du Deutsch?” I muttered “Nein” and kept walking, but the first thing that popped into my head was “He just tutoie-d¹ me! He doesn’t even know me!”

So maybe the French are getting to me a little.

ETA: I was talking to the Franco-German student at work and he explained to me that people in Germany systematically tutoient people if they appear to be less than 18, which is not necessarily the case in France. Hum. I don’t think I look that young.

1. Fr. tutoyer, to use “tu” with someone [↩]

There’s this guy¹ who keeps pacing up and down my hallway in the evenings. Talking. On a cellphone, I assume.

I am really really confused about why he needs to do this every night, and why he needs to do it in the hallway. It’s not like he’s bothering a roommate (we’re all in single rooms–or we’re supposed to be, anyway). I doubt he gets better reception in the hall.

1. I can only assume he lives on my floor [↩]

And okay, because I’m weird like that, here’s the English version of Feist’s song translated into French.

I really like the “La même histoire” much better than this.
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The soundtrack to Paris, je t’aime includes this little gem from Feist (yes, she of “1234″ fame.) There’s also an English version on the soundtrack, but it’s not the same song.
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Cultural collision, no 1:
When we make an appointment for 10 am, I expect you to be there at 10 am.

Happy New Year, everyone! The lateness is due to non-functioning WiFi chez moi… I’m huddling outside the lab typing this.

PS: Paris, je t’aime.

Is there any problem a dish of tomato beef served over rice can’t solve? Nope.

For those interested, my hotplate-and-one-pan version follows.
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One of the other students is returning to Spain tomorrow, and left me a few of her things. Like a pillow. I’m really looking forward to getting a good night’s sleep tonight. (I’ve been sleeping on a $2 ‘camping pillow’ for the last three months.)

So a friend of mine has recently started up his own web comic, We Can Sleep Tomorrow. It draws inspiration from our high school years and so it’s been a little bit of a trip down memory lane for me (including the part where I had time and inclination to make websites.)

It’s not a series of one-shots, so if you want to start reading, I would suggest starting from the first one.

Okay, I’ll admit it, I’m really quite homesick. Being nine hours ahead of my friends and family, and living alone don’t really help.

I dreamt last night that I was back home, but it soon became uncomfortable as I realized I’d not really done much of anything in France. At this point dream-me started panicking and really really hoping this was all a dream. In fact dream-me gave my dream-arm several good pinches–

At which point I woke up, uncomfortably ensconced in my studio but a little relieved I hadn’t sleepwalked my way to the airport.