Don’t Make Me Pull Out My Freedom Fries Besancon

Yes, 2 a.m. is a good time to be quiet.

When my flight from Ireland via Frankfurt arrived during the brisk Geneva evening, I had already mentally prepared to stay the night in Switzerland and travel onto France the next day. Yet, the last train to Besançon left in one hour. Not an overabundance of time to execute an international arrival and subsequent train departure, but still possible.

Fortunately, a very kind and nurturing flight attendant informed me that the train station sits alongside the airport. Thus once off the plane, I frantically ran to luggage claim, in order to then impatiently wait ten precious minutes, for a well worn travel pack. With luggage in hand, I sprinted to the train station only to learn I needed to transfer to a different train station downtown. “Merde!” With a another quick train ride, I finally found myself at the correct station. With a little less than 3 minutes to spare, I approached the ticket office, bought one, and literally ran through the customs office, since no one was actually working in there, jumped on the train and headed to Besançon, France.

So why France? I am taking French classes this summer at the Centre Linguistique Appliquée here in Besançon, France. These classes count towards my Masters Degree at the University of Nebraska-Omaha. The first week of classes and living along the River Doubs has really been interesting. First of all, class schedule. There are three classes a day from 8:30 until 3:00 with an optional forum provided after. One could say the class structure has either followed a Northern European or Southern European organizational style. Some, like Northern Europe, have been really well organized. Some of the Southern European variety have been unorganized and disengaging. Some forums consist of a presenter reading statistics for an hour and a half in a monotone voice (Bueller, Bueller, tu es ici?). Classes are either right on the mark or off in left field.

One of the stereotypical highlights of France is their food, but considering all meals have been consumed in a school cafeteria, food hasn’t been the true treat that you might imagine. On the other hand, our classes are extremely international and diverse. Compared to my studies last summer in Argentina which were comprised mostly of Americans, classes are comprised of students from places like Honduras, Nicaragua, Costa Rica, Panama, El Salvador, Ireland, France, Morocco, Libya, Tunisia, Pakistan, Iran, Israel, Syria, Botswana, Senegal. You can definitely say it is as eclectic as Crawford, Texas.

Are Those Monkeys Down There? Why Yes, but they can’t jump very high.

Old City Besancon

The majority of the students stay in dorms. During my first week, I stayed in the dorm named Jérome. I soon found out that Jérome housed French students that didn’t return home for summer vacation. It was their cherished spot to drink, yell, sometimes talk, and act the fool. It just happened to be right in front of the entrance. Unfortunately, so was my room. For five consecutive nights, they planted their asses there until three or four in the morning. A bit of a prohibitive environment for sleep. Let me just reach into my pocket for some Freedom Fries.

So each night, I would go down in between midnight and 3 a.m. and politely ask them to take their ass somewhere else. Finally, on the last night, I went down and had a heated discussion with them about the fact that I had to go to class the next morning. If I had a better vocabulary in French, I would have peppered the conversation with alot more colorful words like bollocks and you smell like catfish. They should really be thanked for challenging me to use my French in a unique situation. Merci bien connards! I changed dorms on Monday.

What is the Citadelle?

One of my goals on this trip was to make a side trip to Westvletern, Belgium, home to the number one beer in the world. This Westvletern trappist beer is very scarce and tough to wrap your hands around. The process requires a reservation two weeks in advance, then two weeks later, drive up, give them your name and Euros, and then they hand over two crates of the best tasting beer in the world. That was my plan, BUT, and such a big but, one item impeded the visit. Searching for train tickets to Belgium, the cost would come out to price restrictive $500. I enjoy beer, but not quite that much. Maybe sometime in the future.

Now the Centre Linguistique Appliquée provides several cultural activities within Besancon during the study abroad. The first activity was a French movie. A concert by the guy that produced the music for the movie preluded the movie. It all sounds great in theory. Norah and Sarah, two other Graduate students, both were a little perturbed that we arrived a little late. Once inside, we were relieved to be late. On stage, the musician created odd music with his clarinet with flamboyant movements, reminiscent of Will Ferrell and his jazz flute in Anchorman. The French musician would play a note and then manipulated it on his computer. Basically it sounded like a whale under water in a great deal of stomach pain. He felt the music so much he levitated using his one leg to push himself up and tucking the other one behind his other leg. It looked more like electric jazz yoga gone horribly wrong.

The movie finally started forty painful minutes later. This didn’t mark the end of our suffering, just a momentary pause, followed by another long dragged out piece of French cinema. We left early for delicious ice cream. We had earned it.

An Eye on Besancon

Looming high over the old city of Besancon is La Citadelle. The citadel that protected the old town was designed by Vauban. I took a cool, free Sunday afternoon to visit. Surprisingly as I walked across the drawbridge, underneath dozed a couple dozen baboons. What?!?! Baboons in the citadel? Unbeknownst to me, the posterior side of the citadel is a zoo full of kangaroos, several types of monkeys, lions, tigers, fish, flamingos, and llamas.

Secret Tunnels

Why is it always monkeys? Are they the comedians of the animal kingdom?

One male monkey, we’ll name him Santa Fe, felt it best to swing around the cage quickly until the female, Albuquerque, desired a brief reprieve from her baby. Just as soon as he saw this separation, Santa Fe would quickly swing in her direction. He attempted the leap frog over Albuquerque, but he wasn’t successful. That didn’t deter him though, persistent that monkey. With every failed jump, he would attempt the jump again, over and over. He must have gotten tired and gave up hope. Santa Fe just retreated over to the corner of the zoo and smoke a cigarette.

That was the first week of Besancon. Next week, Tour de France passes through.

Peace,
John