FIELD NOTE 4.24 - Invasion of the caterpillars.

The sidewalks have become a war zone between people and caterpillars and the pavement is littered with the corpses and innards of the casualties, one-sided of course.

Actually to be completely honest, I'm not sure if the French really think of it as a war when they walk to and from the university without looking at what their feet are crushing, but still this war is nearer to me than any other, a reality. I try to tell myself that life has gone on like this before I came here and will continue to do so even after I leave, but that doesn't make it any less difficult. No, the only thing that does that is seeing the little finches and red throats come and carry off the caterpillar corpses, presumably to some grander place and purpose.
This morning as I was passing the bushes where they crawl out from I thought about King William where each spring my father burns the caterpillar nests from the trees - something he's done for as long as I can remember but something that I still see no purpose in. They don't burn them here, they just squish them underfoot - which is the crueler fate, I wonder.
And then I noticed a line of caterpillars walking parallel to the bushes, end to end, and had to do a little jump to avoid stepping on them. This was rewarded by a few strange looks by French students walking heedlessly in the opposite direction. Oh well, there's a war on and I think I'd rather be on the side of the caterpillars anyway!

FIELD NOTE 4.23 - Looking up.

My grandmother used to tease me that I looked up at the sky too much, saying that it was a sign that I was dreaming too much. Somehow over the years I've stopped doing this, focusing my attention nowadays either directly in front of me or on my shoes.

A few days ago Darryl and I took a walk down a nature trail and I started looking up into the tree branches. Since then I have constantly been looking skyward, so much so that I accidentally almost walked into a parked car this morning on my way to class.
I have a feeling that my grandmother might start admonishing again. Only now there are no dreams, just upward glances. I tell myself that maybe dreams will follow shortly and that maybe this time I will swallow my fear and just go with them - I just hope there are no more parked cars to block the way...

FIELD NOTE 4.22 - Dandelions.

I've really enjoyed walking back and forth to the university from my dorm - it just seems more practical to walk the 8 minutes rather than the nearly 15 minutes it takes to walk to the tram stop, wait for the tram, and then take it to the university. Much more practical and much more enjoyable.

One of the things I've noticed in passing the gardens of the houses is that the French have some strange choices in their planting choices - or maybe it's just me. I don't profess to have an extensive knowledge of plants, but still the thought of planting a blue clematis beside a red azalea makes me cringe - possibly due to my personal hatred of the azalea plant.
But still there is one thing that I very much appreciate that the French do, or don't do rather. In almost every garden and yard there's at least one dandelion. Knowing the traditional fates of dandelions in Virginia I have kept a close eye on these dandelions. For the 4 weeks I have spent walking to class all of them have stayed where they are in gardens and yards - well, all save one. This makes me smile.
I've never been a huge fan of dandelions but still it saddens me when my father talks about putting down weed killer or pulling them up. The fact that the French see them and respect them makes me never want to leave, makes me believe that if the dandelions can make it here then so could I!
But this is wishful thinking and I keep being told to be practical. Practical, I hate this word.
Dandelions don't seem to worry about practicality when they set root in gardens just as easily as the cracks in the sidewalk. No, their only worry is survival. There is one dandelion in particular that I walk by every day that's managed to grow to a size big enough to draw a "Wow!" out of me.
I've told myself for days that I am going to take a picture of it and for days I've forgotten my camera. Today I finally remembered and took a picture of the dandelion, now past its bloom. But that doesn't seem as important to me as the fact that it's still there, still growing.

FIELD NOTE 4.21 - Connection issues.

Last night the internet was down again. This time the network wasn't down but I still couldn't connect. Each time I tried I was met with only a white screen, blank save for a single error message: Connection failed: too many connections or Invalid login: RoundTable.exe not valid.
Surprisingly my reaction to this was just a sigh. I soon shutdown my computer and, taking this as a sign, decided to use the time I would have spent surfing online to catch up on my sleep.
I think I'm getting used to these issues and I'm not sure how I feel about that. For some reason I don't find the idea of getting used to something only to have to leave it behind in a few weeks as a comforting thought. I wonder sometimes what will happen when I return to the world of stable internet connections - will I be thankful or will I just be sad?

FIELD NOTE 4.20 - A breather.

Today was beautiful in Nantes - the sun was shining and the temperature actually broke 60 degrees (Fahrenheit - I never could manage to make the Celsius scale work for me in those first few weeks here and have since that time kept my weather discreetly in the scale to which I am accustomed with the reasoning that it's better to be properly dressed than not).
After classes ended at 14h00 and I had walked back to my dorm and eaten a quick lunch of sandwiches followed by a cup of hot tea, I sat myself in front of my computer to...do what exactly? I really have no homework at the moment and studying for my final on Friday was the farthest thing from my mind. So I decided that the rare weather needed to be enjoyed and I went to see if Darryl wanted to go on a walk.
Fifteen minutes later we were out walking the same path we had walked the week before to a nature walk about 10 minutes away from our dorm - only this week we chose to go in retrograde. After several wrong turns and awkward stops for cars that ended up stopping for us, we began exploring the nature walk.
I always enjoy walking in nature and yet for some reason actually rarely seem to do so. There are reasons - I either think of something more pressing or make up an excuse as to why I can't. But walking outside today for almost 2 hours made me fall in love with Nantes all over again.
For these past few weeks I have been wavering between love and hatred when it comes to this city - normally when my thoughts have turned to the future and my imminent departure. I think I live to much like this, out of the moment, and today's walk made me realize that. It was a breather, a chance to just forget everything and ground myself - something I forget to do all too often, something I need to remind myself to do when I get back.

FIELD NOTE 4.19 - Chapeau and such.

There are good days and there are bad days. Today when my writing prof handed me back my argumentation with a score of 15 on it and told me "Not your best" I was about to swear that today was going to be one of those bad days.
And then Anick also handed back our critique. Mine had a 19 written on the top as well as a "bon travail" written in red ink and I began to rethink the whole "It's going to be a bad day" thing. The rest of writing class passed in a blur of daydreams and basking in the rare Nantes sunlight streaming in through the windows with a brief period of confusion about the use of the gérondif.
Before I knew it I was sitting in my French oral class trying my best to listen for answers to the listening comprehension in the recording over the scratching of pencils and pens as the other students wrote their answers. After the exercise we were given the choice to have the exercise graded or to have it count as a class activity - I was 1 of 4 to select having it count as a grade even though I knew that half my answers were wrong. Still the prof decided to go over the proper responses to the questions with us for the remainder of the class, each time playing the conversation, asking us for responses and then writing the proper one on the board.
There was one question - something about what one is able to do at a particular pool in Paris that can't be done anywhere else - that was met with only silence. Finally I decided to try my answer and said, "On peut jouer à la caisse sub-aquatique." Okay, the answer was techincally "On peut jouer aux caisses subaquatiques." but still the prof seemed kind of shocked that I managed to give her the answer, even going so far as saying to the other students that she hadn't expected them to get it because it was hard to hear, hard to know, and easily lost. Then she turned and looked at me and said, "Good for you. Chapeau."
I've never been told chapeau before - the French equivalent to our "My hat's off to you" and, as is the custom with French compliments, a more concise one - so being told that today made me feel what can only be described as giddy and it's quite possible that I may have giggled a little. And the fact that it was Marion, my oral teacher, who said it to me only made everything better. She is 1 of the 2 profs I have this semester that I have the absolute hardest time reading - some days she seems to like me, others no. So receiving the compliment seemed like a strong nod toward the former and I just went with it.
Which brings me to the other prof I have the hardest time reading: my economy and society prof. Since she won't be able to attend class the day we return from break she has decided to make us meet for 2 1-hour classes these past 2 weeks much to our dismay. But since these classes aren't at their appointed time it means that we have been forced to find out own room and the one chosen happens to have a class in it that ends right before we need to use it. This week that class ran over slightly and she took the opportunity to talk to me, asking me when I was leaving France. We talked for about 5 minutes, casual things that probably won't matter tomorrow, but still it seemed to change things. I realized standing there that she didn't hate me as I may have once feared, it's just her mien.
So I guess today might have been a good day. And to to think I almost gave up on it a few minutes too early.

FIELD NOTE 4.18 - Network issues.

It never fails: I finally sit myself down in front of my MacBook with the intention of focusing myself on work and the network here crashes. It's happened so often now that it no longer comes as a shock to me and I just find something to do until the network is finally restored.
Normally this takes anywhere from 1 hour to 2 days. Since the Monday after Easter is practically a national holiday here and having access to the internet is decidedly not as important to the French as it is to an internet junkie like me, I knew that there was little chance that the problem would be resolved until Monday morning.
And, true to this expectation, I couldn't get online until after class this afternoon.