Les grèves

After a series of well crafted and entertaining stories, I am going to take it down to the scholar level and do some information sharing that the news feeds across the world would find quite interesting. I am going to talk about "les grèves", the massive strikes, which are currently sweeping across France.

If you haven't heard, the French government is attempting to reform the retirement and pension ages. The proposed changes include raising the age for retirement from 60 to 62, as well as moving the age for full state pension benefits from 65 to 67. Those of us who live in the US know very well that 62 is still a full three (soon to become 4) years younger than the retirement age at home. Other countries that have age 65 or higher as the year you can qualify for retirement include Germany, Great Britain, Norway and both countries of the Iberian Peninsula. I could go on, but these countries illustrate well enough that in the world's leading economies, the retirement age is much higher than that of France. Even by raising it, the age would still be considered low. Yet the strikes go on.

"Les grèves" and "les manifestations" have been a common theme in French history. Simply searching "French striking" with Google gave me page after page on instances where the French went on strike over...something. They've taken CEO's hostage, overtaken and burned trucks carrying produce and blockaded ports, airports, roads and buildings. Striking and protesting is in their blood, law and history, thus, right now, they're out in full force attempting to back the government down from reform. Obviously they strike because it has worked before. In 1995 they forced the government to back down from the same type of pension reformed getting voted on right now. The current situation might turn out differently with Sarkozy as president, but we'll see soon. The vote was scheduled for yesterday. The results of the vote should come out soon. But until then, all I can do is share with the world what I see and hear, how these strikes have affected me, and how they might affect me soon. So here goes.

First of all, the turnout on these strikes is incredible. The police say that there are over a million people out in the streets for each of these days of called strikes (the union estimate is always roughly twice to three times the police estimate). Regardless of that number demonstrating, the number striking is astounding not only because of how many, but how varied they are. Busses don't run like they should, both city and intercity. Last weekend I tried to go to a city only 70 km away and couldn't get there because the busses weren't running there due to strikes. Trains are running irregularly because the workers don't show up. At one point one in three trains was NOT running, with one in two TGV (bullet) trains either late or not running. That is astounding. France depends heavily on trains and busses for transportation. Between Aix en Provence and Marseille, which has a large commuting population, a 30 km drive turned into a nightmare. It took two hours to make the drive on a strike day instead of the average 30 minutes.

Gas stations have run dry across France, affecting cars and planes both. My program director drove by five stations in Marseille that said they were dry before she came across one with any gas. One in three planes was affected, either late or cancelled, due to fuel shortages. Sarkozy had to order the forced opening of the oil refineries in France in order to keep things running at at least this capacity. Inhabitants of Marseille also took it upon themselves to block all the entrances and exits from Marseille to the freeways, thus stopping the majority of traffic in and out of the city. The most disgusting thing I've seen was the piles of garbage rotting on the streets of Marseille. The trash workers aren't picking them up and the heaps simply sit there and accumulate until they spill over into the streets or cover the sidewalks. It's more than slightly revolting.

Schools, too, are being affected. Mine has not, but the students of the university in which I am a part of went on strike several times. Today I'm pretty sure I saw a group of about 150 of my Université Paul-Cezanne compatriots walking and chanting up and down the main street of Aix. A friend of mine teaches English to French lycéens, or high schoolers, and was stopped in his attempt to leave school one day by a line of shopping carts and angry students blocking the doors. His entrance to school was also blocked one day by tons of dumpsters and trash cans set up by the students. Students somewhere even lit a car on fire. The youngsters are getting riled up too. They want in on this, but I feel like they just want to join in and not go to school just because they can avoid working for a bit. I have a hard time believing that they're actually angry enough about this to blockade their own school. They just want time off. But that's just me.

So those are my observations and experiences from the strikes. I don't think they're going to work this time. Sarkozy is pretty bullheaded about this, and it needs to happen. Had it happened in 1995, the government would have already realized billions of euros in savings from not having to open up the coffers so early. Instead, they have to face round two of angry French people striking and protesting their actions. I think the government needs to do this, regardless of whether the people are angry or not. It just needs to happen. Talking to my first homestay host, she said that the reforms would fundamentally alter the French way of life. She also added that people's bodies just can't take working hard that long. "It'll kill us all!" she said. I can see why she'd say that. But I don't really believe her. I told tell her that smoking a pack a day like the French do will kill you even faster. Maybe we should up the age on smoking? She said that the French would pull another 1789 style attack on the government if that happened. That I do believe.

Phrases that don't fit

Now, I'm not one to "Toot my own horn" or to "Put the cat out with the garbage" so to speak, but this weekend was the "Bee's knees"! In fact, I'd equate this latest Saturday's adventure with a "Bagging a peak" or "Eating a whole bag of Sour Patch Kids only to discover that they DO make you sick in large quantities" experience. You know the ones I'm talking about. Totally awesome. You look back and see no problem with the day simply because there was none. You might be of the minority of people who would disagree and argue that getting sick off candy is truly a poor experience. I pity those people. Because they are missing out on cool life experiences because they're afraid of getting sick. Alors, l'histoire. On y va.

This weekend's trip was a mass of mistakes, late arrivals, no arrivals, strikes, missing busses, cheating busses and amazing times. This is the story of my trip to Marseille and la calanque de Sugiton. The original plan for our day was not to be there, but rather in the charming city of Cassis and their pretty calanques. But, as can be anticipated, our voyage was not as we planned. First off, I was planning on meeting up with a friend from home in Marseille, but was denied the opportunity when he couldn't get tickets for his train at 6 in the morning. I don't blame him for not being able to figure it out. No one can truly function at that ungodly hour as it is, much less in a foreign country where you speak approximately 7 words of the language. Anyways, he missed the train and we did not meet up. That was disappointing, but understandable. The day marched on.

The group of 10 people or so (between which 8 languages were spoken) met up at le gare routiere (bus stop) at 10 am to take the bus to Marseille where we would meet the bus to Cassis. We ended up leaving 45 minutes late and arriving in Marseille after 11 in the morning. But that was not bad. What was bad was the third consecutive days of French people striking in retaliation to government plans to reform retirement and pension laws. I will post another whole entry to talk on that, because it truly is fascinating what is happening here. Anyways, the busses were not running. Our options were take 3 separate busses to Cassis or walk 3 hours. None of which appealed to ANY of us. So we walked. Into downtown Marseille. And caught a bus that our French friend/tour guide for the day told us to take. We blindly followed hoping he wasn't taking us somewhere weird and able to be likened to "The big black van with dark windows you KNOW holds unsavory people/memories". You know what I'm saying. So we ended up at a college and were told to walk down a path. I guess none of got the "van" vibes, cause we all just walked. Then this view unfolded and I realized I was in for an awesome time.

We kept on going and the excitement grew and grew until I was finally there...on the shores of the Mediterranean with my picnic lunch and swim trunks, sitting in one of the most beautiful places I've ever been. I was mentally and physically prepared for anything. And anything is exactly what we did. We were not the proverbial "Knob on the log" nor "Fly on the wall" nor the "Atticus Finch of the party". No, we were veritable Lewis and Clark's of adventure and fun, jumping off small cliffs and swimming around the island fortress providing the cliffs. It was amazing and now I can say that I swam and jumped off some cliffs in the Mediterranean. I enjoy being able to say that. After swimming and "Laying it on thick" we ran back up the hill, caught the next bus to Marseille. We got back to Aix that night, ate a couscous dinner and went out and enjoyed the local bar's dance music while chatting with our French homies. It was an amazing day/night, filled with fun and French and will be held fondly in my brain until the day I die. Much like the "surprise" child, this was my "surprise" day. And I can't complain one bit.

A little bit of jumping of cliffs into water never hurt no one.

Kinda like whoa.

Books, birthdays and baguettes

School has come into full swing now, there can be no doubt. I am nearing the end of week number two of class, and I have to say that I like my schedule. Not having any classes on Friday's while in Europe is one way of doing it I suppose. Also one way of doing it is traveling and buying ridiculously cheap flights to places all over Europe to see friends on those long weekends that I happen to have every week. So far the places I have flights to are London (for the Harry Potter premiere), Norway to visit a friend from home and Seville, Spain to visit my roommate from last year. Europe is the best. Save for one thing...

One of the most anticlimactic birthdays ever happened on October 9. Mine. Come on, a birthday is never anticlimactic, one might say. As an American citizen turning 21 in a foreign country where the drinking age is 16, I beg to differ. This does not make my big day bad, but rather the celebration seemed just a little bit less than exciting because I have been buying beer for over a month here. Not that my 21st, had it been in the US, would have been crazy, but there would be something special about going into the store or bar and ordering the drinks for the first time as a 21 year old. A special feeling that will have to wait and not be quite as awesome as it could have been. Oh well. Life is so rough because of that.

Baguettes are also becoming a mainstay in my diet. And by mainstay, I mean I eat a half a baguette daily for lunch, dinner or both. I have found the stereotype of French people eating baguettes to be very much true, and as a result of my attempts to assimilate into the culture, I have picked up the habit. Also included in the habit is the overwhelming rate of cheese consumption. That, too, I have adopted as my own. America best watch out when I return because I will be ravenously searching the bread and cheese sections of every store I see for the $.80 baguettes and $2 wheels of cheese. When I can make a dozen lunches out of 6 baguettes and most of a wheel of cheese here, I am banking on coming home and being able to do it just as cheaply. Here's to hoping the local IGA stocks up for us returning French study abroad kids who need to eat cheese with everything they put in their mouth.

For now, that is about all I have to say. Weather is good and the skies are blue again after two straight days of rain. Life on the Mediterranean (or at least very near it) has returned to normal.

Free pic of the week, from my birthday hike to the top of Mt St Victoire. As you may be able to tell, we did the hike with several Canadians and it was windy up top.

Going, going....gone. Kind of.

And, that is all. Summertime, vacation, break, time off. It's all about to end. Well, kind of. Classes begin tomorrow. Yes, that is correct. They start tomorrow, October 4th, 2010. I absolutely cannot complain whatsoever. I had a full five months of hanging, playing and enjoying life. Now I have to get back into school mode. But again, I feel like I should be saying school*, because I'm in southern France, in a warm, Mediterranean climate. In my 14 days here, we've had one day with a lot of clouds and an hour of rain. This is like California, but way better. I have loads of traveling at my fingertips for dirt cheap. What I'm doing can safely be written, Barry Bonds style, like this: school*.

Now, some thoughts, which I'm sure are fascinating to everyone who reads this.

One. The first week here was torturously slow, with no friends and no way to meet them because I had no classes and few to no connections. Now, a week later, I realize that I'm going to need a time-turner, Harry Potter style, to enjoy these next three and half, four months. Yes, I did just say that. There are just too many things to do, too many people to see and too many places to go to say, "oh yes, time will go by slowly and I'll feel like I was here a long time." Sorry, but it's just not going to happen. Last night, a friend I worked with this summer came and visited me for the night. It made me realize just how much I want to pack into this semester when we started planning another meeting. Before I know it, rather than swimming in the Mediterranean, I'll be sledding in snow covered wheat fields. A good thing? I can't really say.

Two. The world is tiny. Not only is there another Montanan in my school, but she's also in some of my classes. And, we know a lot of the same people. We had the privilege of bonding over our excitement of watching "Come Find Us", a Montana ski movie. New friend.

Three. Europeans love the weirdest American TV shows. How they ever got turned onto "Will and Grace" is beyond me, because all I've ever seen are the reruns and they're not that good. Also popular: Californication (never heard of it), all reality shows (Bachelor(ette), Survivor, Big Brother etc) and then older shows like Friends and that genre. I try to understand, but can't quite get my head around it. Just saying.

Fourth and final thought. Europe is made for small people. For example. I have walked through multiple doorways too short me. Every bed I've slept on, from hostel to homestay, has been far too short. Forced to sleep diagonally, when I change positions at night, I slide my pillow to the other side of the bed and move to the other diagonal. It's super great. Bathrooms are all tiny. I hit my head on the light in our kitchen AT LEAST twice a day. I could go on, but I think you get the idea. One thing I will appreciate about coming home is that, once again, I will fit comfortably into most things.

Now, some pictures!

The port city of Marseille. Beautiful eh?
Cliff overlooking Cassis, on the coast. The 'Mistral' was blowing, a strong wind from the north. My hair flows in the wind beautifully.
More of Marseille.

My friend Jan. We went for a hike. Circled the mountain rather than climbed it. Those logs were the most elevation he gained all day.