Pau

I have been back in the United States for one week now, so it seems like as good a time as any to describe where I lived in France during the last year (I had intended to write this entry months ago but simply never got around to it).

Pau is a medium-sized French town in the Béarn region, in the southwest of France. It is about one hour from the Pyrénées and the same distance from the Atlantic. Due to its location, the weather there is very mild: there were a few brief snowstorms in December but nothing that lasted more than a few days.

Pau's most famous landmark is the château where Henri IV was born.

The host family that lived with lived in a small suburb called Lons, a fifteen-minute bike ride from downtown Pau. My host mother was a Spanish teacher at one of the junior high schools in Pau and my host father was a gendarme, a type of French national police. They had two sons but neither son lived at home with us. Both were university students, one studying at the university in Toulouse and the other in Saragossa, Spain. Both sons came home regularly and we got along well together.

At the university, I studied exclusively with international students. Within the college of letters and social sciences, there was a large program for international students to learn French. Upon arrival, we all took an oral and written test of French comprehension. Based on our results, we were then divided into classes of eight to sixteen. The classes then meet five days a week for twenty hours each week.

I thoroughly enjoyed my time in Pau. The town was large enough to be interesting but still small enough to provide places to be alone and surrounded by quiet. I met some good friends during my staying and had a great relationship with my host family. In short, it was very difficult to leave.

my room:

my balcony and view:




around Pau:

Château de Pau:

more of Pau:

Boulevard de Pyrénées:

Palais Beaumont:

Switzerland

I apologize that this entry is so late in coming. In truth, it is well over a month since I returned back to France from visiting my cousin in Basel. In my defense, however, this last month has been quite hectic with exams, friends leaving, changes in schedules, etc. Now to play catch up:

At the end of February, those of us studying at the Institut de Français pour les Etudiants Etrangers had a short vacation of five days. I took advantage of the situation to take a train to Switzerland to finally visit my cousin, who I had been intending on meeting since shortly after arriving in France. The entire situation worked out well; despite purchasing my tickets only shortly before leaving, I managed to get good prices and was even able to accompany my friend, Brittany, to Paris, the first half of her trip back to Cincinnati to surprise her parents for her mother's birthday.

The travel went fairly smoothly. Brittany and I left on a night train to Paris. I refused to let her travel by herself as there were many suspicious looking people on our train, and after thirty minutes of wandering from car to car, we were finally able to negotiate to have two seats next to each other. We talked for an hour or more before finally falling into an unrestful sleep. We parted at Gare Montparnasse in Paris, her to go to the airport and me to catch my next train at Gare de l'Est. I then caught the metro and waited for two hours in the cold Paris morning before climbing aboard my second train to Basel.

Once in Basel, I quickly found my cousin Stacey, and together we went back to her flat were she had graciously offered me a (very comfortable) couch to sleep. This was the first time we had ever met and despite a few emails earlier in the year, really did not know much about each other. At her apartment, we caught up quickly, describing our own histories and those of our families. Her boyfriend, Thomas, joined us later that evening after work. The next day, Stacey and I wandered through Basel, seeing some of what there was to see, as she explained to me some of the local buildings.

While I was there, Switzerland was celebrating Fasnacht, so it was decided that the three of us would go together the following day to watch the festivities in a neighboring city of Liestal. But since the biggest activities were not until after dark, we decided to go hiking in the foothills southwest of Basel before going to Liestal. It was a beautiful hike and from the crest of the hill, we could see the city of Basel, Germany to the north and France to the west. We had local hams and cheese at a lodge and then got in the car to drive to Liestal. Along the way, we saw a castle overlooking a small town, so we stopped and Thomas and I climbed it. We arrived in Liestal that evening, had a traditional Fasnacht meal of sausages and beers and then waited on the main street for night to fall and the parade to begin. The parade was a composed of troops of people dressed in traditional masks, marching through the streets playing fifes and drums and carrying torches and pulling wagons of fire through the narrow streets. Thomas advised us to not be in the front row and later that night, the reasoning behind his advice became apparent: some of the bonfires that were pulled through the streets were unbelievably large, with flames that reached three-stories high; anyone in the front three rows were forced to recoil and attempt shield themselves from the heat of the fire. The parade lasted for over and an hour and was quite impressive.

We drove back to Basel that night, but Stacey and I awoke less than four hours later to watch the beginning of the Fasnacht celebrations in Basel. When the clock on the ancient Basel Münster cathedral strikes 3:00 am, all of the lights in the old city of Basel are extinguished and troops of fifers and drummers, also dressed in traditional masks and wooden shoes, march through the city, each playing their own songs. In addition, other similarly dressed troops pulled illuminated floats, decorated with satirical images from the previous year. The marches continue until daylight and processions often become stuck for extended periods of time as thousands of groups attempt to march directionless through the narrow city streets. Stacey and I wandered through the festivities for over an hour before escaping to experience a different aspect of Fasnacht: the cellar. During Fasnacht, hundreds of cellars are opened and local bars install tables, chairs and everything needed to sell beer, hot chocolate, tea, coffee, cakes and traditional soups. Here, Stacey and I had a pleasant breakfast of beef soup, beer and tea. We saw more of Fasnacht later that day after getting some more sleep.

Sunday was very relaxed as all of us were fairly tired from all of the activity of Fasnacht but Monday, Stacey and I went back downtown together and visited, among other places, the Tinguely Museum. Jean Tinguely was a local artist from Basel who worked throughout the mid-20th century. His work is very unique and interesting; I will not attempt to describe any of it here, but the museum has a fine website for those who are interested. We ended the day by buying chocolate and had a meal of fondue that night, prepared by Thomas, and accompanied by a Jurançon wine that I had brought from France.

My final day in Switzerland was Tuesday, and Stacey accompanied me to the train station mid-morning that day. It had been a wonderful trip.