Saint
Benoit – end of the town. How, for fuck sake, did I get here?
Well, it all
started in Paris…
Tree days
ago I popped off the buss I’d been dwelling for two days and, baffled before
the upcoming adventures, I started my journey through France. First
destination: la gare Montparnasse.
It was not
that difficult as I thought. On the contrary – it was beautiful – Paris on
twilight with all its locals and visitants has a welcoming aroma that
intoxicates with joy.
…Unlike its
railway station – big, ugly, noisy, unwelcoming blusters, expensive toilets and
extremely polite police officers that throw you out of the building exactly at
1.15 and don’t let you in until 4.30…
For me it
was an educative experience to spent the night on the street – I found out how
patient and polite I can be when what I want is simply to slap that disgusting
guy that does not understand No is NO. Anyway, one Italian cook who felt pretty
concerned about me being unable to cook well rested by my side during the rest
of the night, laughing paternally at my obstinate claim “la soupe est une plat!”
.
When they
finally opened the station, I rushed into it and almost melted in that hot,
cozy waiting room. I say melted not because I felt so well in there, but
because I was sensing how a hot twelve-hours-old jet was about to flood my
dusty clothes. Not really the shower I was craving for :\
Two hours later
the private toilet opened. A little fight with the machine at the entrance, and
I was again in the waiting room, happily preparing myself for some sleep.
Halas, the
guardian of the room approached and asked for my ticket. No sooner did he found
out I was ticketless, he threw me out, without paying attention to my excuses
type “J’espere l’overture du bureau d’information pour…”.
Furious, I
thought I won’t dignify that awful place with my presence anymore and rushed
towards the information desk, for the opening of which the guardian rigorously
informed me, and then at the closest glitche to take the first possible ticket
out of there.
In twenty
minutes! Fuck, fuck, fuck!!! Which is the TGV?! “Excusez-moi! S’il vous plait!”, fast
explications, ‘’Couriez, mademoiselle !’’, ‘’Merci, merci beaucoup !!’’. Trash – the gates closed just behind my back. I was in the TGV,
direction Poitiers !
A rest…
Some sleep and then descend. Poitiers – my new home. I don’t know whether I should
refer to it in such way, but I indeed felt “saved” in some way. It was a
beautiful day, the station was provided with free, spacy toilets and
free-of-guardians waiting room. Wifi was available, not like at Montparnasse… What else could I ask for?
I had a
short rest and restarted my trip – direction the nearest hostel. Strangely enough,
it was the first time the lady of the info desk was hearing of such a thing.
Still having my spirits unharmed, I went out up to the centre to look for
another desk and another lady to explain
me where I can spend one night for less than 40 eu.
Nowhere. After
two hours walking with a suitcase around the steep city streets leading some
pointless discussions with my mother who was trying to dig up a hotel for me, I
was about to get back to the hotel next to the station and sacrifice those 50
eu.
(In fact, the
whole situation emerged because of me being too absent-minded to remember
August had 31 days and arranged my host for the first September instead… )
So, I was
sitting on the street, contemplating the map with the phantom-info centre when
a random local guy interfered and asked me if I needed some help. I said I was
looking for the info desk and he drew me a map on how to get to it. After that
he reappeared in front of it to look after my luggage until I talked with the
woman in charge…
That one at
least was knowing what she was doing: she found me a cozy little hotel in the
mere centre that was also extremely cheap and showed me how to get to it.
Peoples
bonneté was something that really baffled me. In the city, on internet (the
host research)… It is indeed an acogedor town J
Once at the
hotel, I finally had a nice shower and, surprisingly enough, felt asleep the
moment my hair touched the bed. If it was not for my telephone to wake me up, I’d
have been opened my eyes long after the sun had rosen. No force nor desire for
a walk I had – just a meal and social networks, please J
Morning –
arrangements and crazy, sick people around me at the central place. A strange
meeting with an out-of-this-world French guy and finally at the car of my host
direction Saint Benoit. What followed? Recollection of berries for a cake, a
visit to a friend and a circus at the university campus. Then a dinner, chats
with my Iranian roommate and a severe research for a collocation. And the culmination
of the night – freezing into my sleeping back during the night…
Nevertheless,
there I was on the other morning, preparing myself to go to the university just
to explore it. No such luck! The moment I reached it, I saw a huge sheet of
paper saying “réunions obligatoires” and the first one was in 30 min!
As if a
thunder had stricken me, I wrote down all the dates (just to have the time to
think them through while copying them) and got in the building. My expedition
had started – I was looking around, trying to gather info about what, where,
when… Then I docked in front of one gathering room and, along with my future
colleagues, waited for the réunion to take place. There’s no need to mention
there were mostly girls there, most of them with that typical facial expression
of “look who I am, I’m so interesting and cool” that rohlík-girls *(*a check
word to substitute a Bulgarian one for a vulgar way to say smb is cursi J ) that go somewhere just because it
is trendy to do so. Live and let live…
The whole,
whole, whole afternoon in that room! Listening French speech, talking to
colleagues (in French) and writing in French. Et pas seulement des petites notes! A whole tsunami
of information!
In
conclusion : I love, adore this place ! The program we are going to
have is so cool, the courses we can take for free also, the possibility to work
during your studies and how comprehensive the university is towards that, the
language classes of psychology, the possibility to take free classes and travel
outside Europe! And, sure, the second specialty you are obliged to take that
gives you a different point of view! The free sport facilities, the library,
the tutour students you can ask for everything! So many possibilities and only three
years to experience them all…
After all
that, I was literally exhausted emotionally! I just wanted to walk home, to
run, to jump… And was soo damn tired to even move my legs. Nevertheless, I took
my map and went direction Saint Benoit.
Everything
was going fine until I got into the very town. A cruel mind has cutted the plan
of this particular town, so my map was lacking the names of the streets - just
white tubes… I tried to figure the way myself and… That’s how I got at the
beginning of my story – perdue.
There come
the people - one man got out of his house and showed me the way. After a lot of
walking, I reached the centre of the city; I was powerless by that time… No
instructions there were on how to get to the cemetery (that’s close to the house
of my hosts) that’s why I decided to sacrifice a banana while I pounder on
which route to choose.
Out of a sudden
a car stopped next to me. The door opened and a hand waved at me. My host. He invited
me in and brought me back home.
Stinky and
dirty, I lied on a sofa and waited for my Iranian companion to come home and
have a chat with him…
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