A YEAR IN PROVENCE – STUDENT STYLE!

My Erasmus Experience by Val Wilson
2003-04

I have always been told that I never do myself justice – always too embarrassed, too modest, too shy.  Well, today I am proud to be able to write and share all that I experienced, achieved and survived last year.  I learnt a new language.  I studied law in that language.  I climbed a mountain. I single-handedly unblocked a sink.  I skied in the Alps.  I lived thousands of miles away from my family and friends.  I made a great deal of new, life-long friends.  I experienced the best and worst moments of my life.  And I did it all on my own.

Having witnessed my elder sister spend a year in Canada and France, I had always wanted to study abroad for a year.  However, Australia and Canada being my first choices, I was initially disappointed to hear that I had “only” been awarded a place in Aix-en-Provence, in the South of France.  In fact, I almost backed out.  Surely I couldn’t complete the third year of my law degree in a foreign language I barely spoke?  Could I?  I decided I would give it a go.  After all, there are worse places to fail exams.

For the first few days, I was accompanied by my sister who could actually speak French and thus communicate with the inhabitants of this alien territory.  My recollections of Higher French, four years earlier, had unfortunately equipped me with only the basics and restaurant French.  I would survive the first few weeks with a little help from my new friends and the phrase “Une verre du vin, s’il vous plait!”  Arriving in Aix-en-Provence, I was slightly confused by the large surrounding motorways and huge graffiti covered buildings.  Where were all the quaint stone houses and dusty country lanes?  I had envisioned a tiny yet buzzing, pretty village with one Boulangerie to which I would cycle every morning on my old, rickety bicycle, wearing a floaty, flowery dress and clutching my straw hat to my head.  This was Provence!  Why did the outskirts of the town remind me of Glasgow?

On exploring Aix, despite being much larger than I had initially expected and much more commercialised, I discovered that the town still oozed French charm and sophistication.  Indeed, for me, it is the mixture of modern business and buildings and older, traditional architecture and way of life that makes Aix so original.  It is a beautiful town, filled with glorious green trees and parks.  Around every corner, you will find another intricate fountain.  There are endless cafes and shops and the huge squares provide fantastic people-watching opportunities.  The very rich, the very poor, the very bizarre, the very beautiful – you will find them all in Aix.  The huge central street, Le Cour Mirabeau (rumoured to be the most beautiful in France) is lined with huge, green plane trees and in winter, when the leaves are gone, twinkling lights dangle in their place.  Whatever the season, Aix is fabulous and watching the sun stream across the water of the fountains, it became to me everything it had promised.

However, I must stress that this was a year in Provence student style.  Just as mopeds and hip-hop replaced bicycles and accordions, the unbeatable Cite Universitaire (University Halls) replaced the country villa and swimming pool.    The rooms were small, dark and dingy.  Showers and toilets were shared.  As we stayed on a corridor of 35, with only 4 toilets, I will spare you the details (pausing only to mention our excitement at returning to Scotland and the novelty of toilet seats!)  The kitchen consisted of a tiny, square fridge compartment each and 4 hot plates for the corridor.  Even with these limited facilities, we managed to cook spaghetti bolognaise for 15 and all squeeze in one room to eat together.  These basic halls were the centre of our social life.  In summer time, we would gather by the communal picnic tables around ten o’clock with our two euro bottles of rose wine, watch the sun disappear behind the mountains and right the world.

Believe it or not, although an integral part of last year, drinking rose wine was not my only social activity in France.  I have always been extremely musical and took my violin with me to France.  Music is not largely promoted in France and orchestras are generally only professional or found within music schools.   However, I joined a small, chamber orchestra in desperate need of violins.  The standard was in no way equivalent to that of amateur orchestras in which I had previously played but the players were lovely, genuine people with no pretensions and I was warmly welcomed despite the language barrier.  The final of our three concerts was open air, in the grounds of a local sculptor.  The orchestra played to a large audience, with a backdrop of two reared, bronze stallions lit up against the night sky.  It was fantastic!

In order to burn off all the French bread and wine, I attended aerobics classes at the Sports Faculty.  It was great fun but sometimes confusing as I would run left, lifting my arms and the French girls would run right, kicking their legs!  Although daunting at first, getting involved in music and sport in Aix made me some French friends outside of the Erasmus students with whom I have maintained contact. 

Indeed, on speaking to others who have just returned from an Erasmus year, the common link seems to be that it is not the actual country or culture that is missed the most but the people with whom we had shared this experience.  Despite the obvious culture differences – the women-mad Italians, hairy hilarious Germans, gorgeous blondes Swedes or opinionated Dutch – all had come to study in a foreign unknown place and everyone was determined to make the most of this wonderful and unique opportunity.  You could spot the Brits a mile away.  Notably from the amount of red, glowing, sunburnt skin that was on show.  In March we would traipse down to the front of lectures in shorts and flipflops while the scarf-clad French snuggled more deeply into their coats and tutted, “Mon dieu!”

The French Law students in Aix were scarily chic.  In Scotland, students come to lectures in baggy trousers and hoodies.  In France, it was all about Louis Vuitten bags and Gucci heels.  Undoubtedly, “The Fac” was a scary place at first.  We were unmistakably foreign as we sat in the front row of every lecture, straining to understand.  Surprisingly, it was not the French language which posed the greatest problem but rather, trying to hear the lecturer over the students who, should the lecturer say anything with which they did not agree, booed and hissed panto style!  Aside from the obvious differences in the two systems (French law is codified, Scots Law is a common law system) there were differences in the styles of teaching and learning.  In Scotland, we are actively encouraged to criticise the law and offer opinions and alternatives.  In France, the law as told by the lecturer is the law.  A strict education system with strict rules.  Adapting was difficult and I think the French tutors were pleasantly surprised by foreign students offering our opinions although, not necessarily our criticism.  Lectures were not the only academic aspect of the year which was challenging.  All of our exams were oral and I have never experienced such extreme terror during all the exams of my academic career.  The idea that I may not (a) understand the question (b) know the answer or (c) be able to word my answer, was horrific.  Sweaty palms, dry mouth, stutter.  But passed!  It still amazes me that I achieved this and my proudest moment came in my final exam when I used a complicated grammar and sentence structure, unaided and automatically.  I had progressed to a new level without noticing.

I have continued with the French language since my return as I speak regularly on the telephone with my boyfriend whom I have since been back to visit and who has already been to Scotland.  However, I miss speaking in French everyday.  I miss the French sociable life style.  The long days, late dinners and good wines. The markets in the morning where you can buy the best fruit and vegetables available.  The beaches and the mountains.  The sunshine.  My friends from all over the world.  I have no doubt that I will be travelling more frequently now.  I have many people and places to visit.  I would like to finish by quoting a great friend of mine from Aix who on our last night said to me “do not be sad, we aree the ones who have taken the chance, moved away, studied in French and had the most amazing experiences of our lives.”  We are.  And who knows, last year may not be the only year of my life I spend in France, but it certainly was the best year so far.