Strasbourgian Begginings

I write now, like a good Frenchwoman at a Café/Brasserie I am drinking both green tea and an Alsatian white wine, and it is about 3:00 in the afternoon. It is hidden a bit in the local square, not too far from the Strasbourg Cathedral. It is a Wi-fi spot, but I am the only one on a computer. It is quite a relaxing atmosphere, where people are mostly reading the newspaper, or chatting with friends. You might be thinking, “How did I get to Strasbourg? The last I read you were in Paris at a concert.” Well, now that everything has settled a bit I can begin to recount the beginning of my Strasbourgian adventures.

The next day (after the orchestra concert) our group departed early, to take the metro to the train station. This was no small ordeal for much of the group, because many of them brought a lot of large luggage. The Paris metro has small openings, lots of stairs, and on top of that it was prime commuting hour. Despite this chaos, we arrived safely (and without anyone getting lost) to the train station. We took a TGV (one of the new fast trains) to Strasbourg. It was a nice train and the view was lovely and scenic. It was relaxing to read and nap a little.

When we arrived, Madam Marxe, a Strasbourg native and coordinator of the Syracuse program here, met us in Strasbourg. We traveled by taxi to the Syracuse center, which is an old house in an old, lovely neighborhood converted into a bunch of classrooms. We set down our stuff, and took a break to grab lunch. After lunch, we had a preliminary orientation about host family etiquette, the public transportation systems, etc. Everything seemed pretty overwhelming; lots of new information about a city we were not at all familiar with seemed to be buzzing around our heads like a cloud of mosquitoes. We received a pass, which works for any tram or bus. And might I add that I after a few days in Strasbourg I am thoroughly impressed with the public transportation system. The city is quite beautiful and walk able, but you can get virtually anywhere by combination of trams and busses.

After the meeting we had a few hours to ourselves, since our host families weren’t picking us up until 6 pm. everyone promptly took out their laptops to test the free wireless. After having to pay or go without wireless in Paris, we were more than eager to check our e-mails, facebooks, and skype our families and significant others. However, much to everyone’s chagrin the wireless wasn’t working. Panic stricken, everyone ran downstairs to the basement to test the Ethernet cables, and we breathed a sigh of relief as homepages began to pop up one by one. Crowded in a tiny computer room with cement block walls, like kids in a candy store we rediscovered the beauty of free Internet. Face book statuses and wall posts were being exclaimed, and skype conversations began. It was as if it were Christmas again.

After having a temporary full “internet” stomach. We decided that it was time to practice. It was difficult at best to play for the last five days, so we spread out in empty spaces and classrooms that we could find and music erupted from all corners of the building. I began to play some scales and etudes in a room next door to a classroom with a piano. The old building was mostly wood, so my sound resonated as if I were in a mini concert hall. A comforting first sound in Europe. A few minutes later, Sam, who was playing the piano next door, came in to inquire about what I was playing. I told him “just etudes right now” as he looked through my pile of music on the table. He picked up the Strauss concerto for oboe, and exclaimed, “I love Strauss! Lets read this.” It was about 15 minutes until our families were supposed to show up, so I said, “Ok, well, just the first movement I guess.” The Strauss concerto is one of the most difficult in the repertoire for oboe, because of endurance, technical facility and musicality. The piano part/orchestral reduction is hardly a cakewalk but Sam read it well, and we musically played in the “new era” of our time with our families abroad.

Waiting for our families felt like we were orphaned puppies panting wide-eyed and begging, “Pick me! Pick me! Please!” One by one, people showed up, Madam Marxe called our names, and we exclaimed “Bonne chance!” (Good luck) as we exited with our luggage. When my turn came my stomach tightened, and my eyes widened further. However I soon relaxed as my new host parents, Claude and Patricia helped me carry my luggage to the car and drove me to their apartment. They’re apartment is a nice, middle class I think, apartment adjacent to the “Latiere” stop on the Tram. They have four kids, 3 boys and one girl, two labs, and a cat. To my surprise and delight, I had my own, spacious room, with a bureau, large desk, nice bed and a bookshelf. I began to unpack my things and settle in. Yves, the oldest son, is in his last year or two at the university, studying some sort of IT work. Mauve the daughter, next oldest was gone at the moment traveling to Marseille. Hughes the next oldest is in his last year at the Lycee (their high school) and was sociable and a typical teenage boy. His girlfriend Felicite was over and she was very sweet. It was fun to chat with both of them. My French brain began to turn on, but seemingly slowly after the day of excitement and hesitation. I then sat and discussed my gluten and dairy free diet with my host mom, while she dutifully took notes. I told her what I eat in general, the least complicated things to prepare and what Gluten/dairy free products to look for. She kept exclaiming “Ca existe?” meaning “that exists?” when I described gluten free bread, soy yogurt or some such thing. I assured her that it did, but it would most likely be found in a specialty store. After continuing to unpack, we ate dinner. I listened intently to the French and tried to discern what was being discussed. Patricia kept saying “tu comprends?” meaning “you understand?” and I kept saying “oui, un peu” (yes, a little). After dinner, Claude found a cable and helped configure my computer to the internet. I commend him for this effort, since my computer is in English, and I am very grateful for the incredibly easy and reliable access. The communication with family and friends is helping me to continue to feel connected to home. After a bit of French news, chatting with Kevin on skype, I collapsed into bed, my mind still spinning from the day’s events.