Plus de bureaucratie...

Yes, French bureaucracy is back and rearing its ugly head.  I actually am on the positive end on this experience, so I can explain it without being whiny (as has not necessarily been the case in previous rants on the same topic!).  As many of you know, I joined an AMAZING, American-style gym, because, let's face it, French gyms suck.  Their concept of a gym is a few weight machines.  In fact, I feel a little strange breaking a sweat in France, because, as I'm going at a frenetic pace on the elliptical and sweating half of my body weight, the little French woman on the machine next to me is having a leisurely workout and is not even breaking a sweat.  Whatever.  I like my way better.  

I knew when I signed up for this gym that they would make me have a doctor's note, because, let's face it, it's France, so why would it possibly be as simple as signing a dotted line and being signed up?  I felt like the gym employees were shaking their heads at me and saying, "Really? Have you learned nothing?".  A couple of other Georgetown girls belong to this gym, but had their parents forge a doctor's note.  Now, I decided not to do this for a couple of reasons: a) I am way too worried about the rules; and b) I know I would be the ONE person who got caught, because I would have guilt written all over my face.  So to make a long story short, I had to find a doctor.  Damn it.  Luckily, Susan, our oh-so-amazing program director (what would I do without her?), gave us a healthcare packet that included a list of English-speaking doctors of all kinds in Strasbourg.  However, before I made an appointment, I had to go and sign up for social security, which is obligatory for everyone.  So I did that and called the doctor, and was able to get an appointment for this afternoon at 1.  I found it strange, after I hung up the phone, that they hadn't asked for my name, but I figured the receptionist would ask me for my name once I got there.  Wrong and wrong. There was no receptionist, and there was also a very confusing waiting room, because everyone in it seemed to be going to the doctor whose office was next door to the office I needed to be in.

So I watched the time tick away... 12:30 (yes, I am annoyingly early, and I also had a 2 o'clock class, so I was hoping to get in early.  Ha!)...12:45...12:55...and finally, at 1:05, the doctor strolled in.  By the time he had gotten back from getting his mail downstairs- seriously?!?- I had realized that there was another woman in front of me, whose appointment had been at 12:30.  So I was getting nervous, but just as I was about to leave, the doctor came out, and it was my turn!!!  So I went in, and it literally took the doctor 10 minutes to listen to my breathing, measure and weigh me, take my blood pressure, and give me a God-damned peak flow test (after which I listened to him tell me how poorly I had done- big freaking surprise).  I was trying to explain my allergies to him, with mixed results, because I only knew the French words for a handfull of things I'm allergic to (so I just left some of the seasonal ones out).  Then I tried to explain to him my regimen of asthma medication, and I had to ask how to say "inhaler" and "steroid" (the latter of which is in my Albuterol inhaler).  He asked me to show him how I took the inhaler, and promptly scolded me for doing it wrong, then demonstrating himself.  It was pretty funny, actually.  Then, he filled out the necessary paperwork that will get me into the gym without any more dirty looks that seem to say, "Really, you don't have your certificat yet?".  So I will giddily run into the gym tomorrow and thrust the certificat in the receptionist's face, and hopefully they will have my gym card ready for me when I leave.

Another interesting medical experience today: I was on my way back from my run and got in the elevator with a random guy, and he said, "Merde, vous êtes grande!  Vous mesurez combien?" (Translation: "Fuck, you're tall!  How tall are you?") Once I got over what he had said ("merde" is just sort of tossed around here, it's not really a big deal), I thought to myself, 'Dammit, I knew this was coming eventually!  WHY didn't I go online and convert my height from inches to meters?'  And sure enough, the doctor also asked me how tall I was.  Obviously, I had no idea, so he kindly measured me.  I need to stop thinking like an American!  I have already taken the first step, though; I no longer think in dollars (mostly because it's just too depressing!  Although, to be fair, the exchange rate is not as God-awful as it was before.)

So I got an email that Susan sent to all of the Georgetown girls yesterday.  Apparently there is a French student who just got back from spending a year interning at a law firm in Richmond who wants to speak English and talk American current events with a native speaker.  Done and done.  I have election fever, more so than the other girls in the program, or so it seems, so I am totally excited to talk about the US.  And I'll get to practice my French too.  The person's name is Etienne, which is confusing, because when I saw the name, it sounded like a girl's name to me.  The thing about French names is that they're often sort of ambiguous; my doctor's name was Dominique, and he turned out to be a man.  I had actually chosen him because I thought he was a female doctor, but it was fine, he was very nice.  But, getting back to my point, Etienne also struck me as a girl's name, but this particular Etienne happens to be a guy.  I have cautiously optimistic hopes for our conversations; I feel like he can't be a total jerk (à la guy in the bar in Nice), because he is reaching out and really hoping to improve his English.  So how can it be?  Well, I'll get back to you next week.  We've been emailing today, and it sounds like we'll be getting together every Monday after class, and he also asked if I wanted to meet for a drink this weekend.  Um, let me think, yes!

Another thing about the elections: my absentee ballot hasn't come yet :(  I'm starting to get a little nervous, because my friends from other states got theirs awhile ago (Kate, who's from Connecticut) sent hers back in about 2 weeks ago, and Molly and Jinah (from New Jersey and California, respectively) got theirs this week.  When I registered for my absentee ballot at the Longmeadow Town Hall, they said that they wouldn't have absentee ballots until 3 weeks before the election, but that seems to me like it's cutting it a little close.  My ballot had better come, because there will be hell to pay if I cannot cast my Obama vote.  

So, for good news, I finally booked my tickets for my Toussaint break (well, most of them; the Swiss train site was on the fritz when I tried to book tickets for a day trip to Brienz and my ticket back to Basel from Lucerne).  So I am leaving a week from Saturday, and will be spending 5 days in Lucerne and its environs.  Then, I'll head back to Basel, where I'll hop on an 8-hour train to Florence to visit Kate!  I'll be there from Thursday to Sunday and will get a very early train back to Strasbourg on Monday morning (luckily, I don't have class until noon), and I can't wait to see what adventures I'll have over my much-needed break!  I will, of course, be posting on the blog and putting up pictures as soon as I get back (but, per usual, pictures will most likely be up on Facebook the morning I get back!).  My break will be made a lot more relaxing if I can get the 10-page paper and two smaller, 5-7 pagers done before I leave, because I am not bringing my computer, which is in the last stages of its terminal illness, on the trip.  Also, if the Red Sox, who are looking far less than stellar at this point, can come back from a 1-3 hole, I would greatly appreciate it!!! GO SOX!!!

Sending you my love,

Kristen