After 3 hours on the TGV, we arrived at beautiful Aix-en-Provence on Friday afternoon. TGV stands for "Train a Grande Vitesse," which basically means "high-speed train" or, more literally, "train at great speed."
Aix is a captivating city, with mediterranean-style architecture and designs focused on yellow, brown and okre and squeaky wooden window shutters. Between 9 and 12 each morning, vendors nimbly set up tents and stalls to market their fresh fruits and vegetables and just-baked bread. On Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays, more vendors come into town and construct their own make-shift stalls of flowers, soap, jewelry, clothing, shoes, bags, books, and music. The town is hardly silent. The hum of villagers fills the town like steam covers the mirror while I take a shower.
The streets here are narrow and slanted with a confusing yet quaint gridlock-less structure. Cars and motorcycles beep their way through, parting the sea of pedestrians carrying plastic bags from Monoprix or simply a baguette from the local bakery. Street signs are nailed high up into stone walls, while an ancient fountain spouts effervescence in the centre of the square. Here, getting lost is simply an excuse for exploration.
Already, I've discovered another Christian library behind the large three-floor Monoprix, as well as La Corbeille d'Orient that sells a wide range of Asian ingredients, including my favorite type of vinegar (Chinese black vinegar), soy sauce, Chinese white rice, and thin wheat noodles. I boiled some noodles and mixed them in with stir-fried eggs, tomatoes, spinach, and chopped-up frankfurters. And of course, I added some soy sauce and Chinese black vinegar, as well as sugar and salt. It was marvelous, if I may say so myself.
I thank God SO SO SO SO much for blessing me with a HUGE apartment. It is a space for two students, but I said that I wanted to live on my own, so Madame put my name in the studio lottery, and I was randomly (or not so randomly in God's eyes) gifted with this ENORMOUS space. I have two beds, which I pieced together, as well as a long futon (which the French call "clic-clac" because of the sound the metal makes when one is pulling out the bed), a wooden table in the middle of the room and four chairs, very contemporary drawers and closet, a kitchen with an oven, 6 stove-tops, a microwave, a kettle, a large fridge, and another table, and a restroom with heating. The girls who lived here before me left me a warm and welcoming message, as well as lots of information about the city and its outskirts, stationary, books and dictionaries, pots and pans, cutlery, hairdryer, ironing board, irons, vacuum, lights, phone, Wi-Fi, storage space, a large rug, a clothes rack, mini-Christmas trees...I could go on and on. My first evening here was a night of discoveries. It felt like Christmas all over again.
In addition, the girls in the building are also Wellesley girls who were here last semester. They have shown me around everywhere, including a very serene park with mini waterfalls and a verdant horizontal and vertical expanse. They told me where the cheapest bread is, where the cheapest croissant aux amandes (croissant with almonds) is sold, where the Chinese shop was, where I can buy my minutes for the cellphone, and advised me about interactions with the French as well as their ups-and-downs here. Thankfully, it has mostly been up!
Classes at the Fac (abbreviation for university here) start tomorrow. My first and only class tomorrow is the Anthropology/ Ethnology of France, which will last for 3 hours from 10h00 to 13h00 and take place in a large amphitheatre. Please pray that I'll be able to fork up conversation with some understanding and social French students before and after class, and that I'll concentrate on the material during class.
Today, I took Tiffany and Audrey (a Harvard student) to a morning protestant service called Le Chemin. It is similar to a pentecostal service: a lot of prayer, speaking in tongues, and centered on the power of the Holy Spirit. I was moved by the worship, as well as touched by Jesus during Communion. Speaking of Communion, the bread was absolutely fresh and the wine was definitely NOT grape juice. Afterwards, we turned around to speak to the two people sitting behind us, who - by divine coincidence - happened to know Madame! What are the chances.
In the evening, Tiffany and I went to ICCP, an English-speaking international community of believers. The pastor just happens to live opposite me on the very same street! What are the chances.
Aix Awesomeness #1: All shops close on Sunday. It's like the whole town takes a Sabbath together. Streets are abandoned except the occasional grunt of a motorcycle and the few followers of Jesus Christ fighting the wind on their way to God's house.
The best is yet to come!
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