Fête de la Musique

“Fête:” Party
“Chanter” to sing
“Une Chanson:” a song

Every year in France, on the first day of summer (21st June), there is a huge music festival in every city called, “Fête de la Musique.” It does not matter what day of the week it falls on, or the weather circumstances; it will always be celebrated on the first day of summer. I’m not sure how this tradition started, but it now exists across the whole country. The idea is to celebrate summer by playing and enjoying music all of different genres. This year, the first day of summer happened to fall on a Monday, slightly unfortunate because I had to work the next day so could not stay out grooving all night long. However, I did get a couple of hours taste of the celebrations welcoming in the summer season.

At about 5pm, I could start hearing sounds off in the distance or instruments tuning, speakers being tested, and the carefree attitude of the night was already in the air. Ah, you have to love summertime. There we official lineups set up in the main squares of the town, also accompanied by informal groups set up in front off restaurants and cafés, parked in a corner playing whatever kind of music is theirs. I took a stroll through the main areas, first stopping for a few minutes to admire a blues/jazz group set up near the marché St. Pierre—a mix of old and young men with harmonica, drums, and brass to give the soothing element to the melody. Not but 10 feet away were another group of people literally shaking their booties to some funky tunes. I worked my way down the biggest square in town, Place Jaude, with the streets leading to it lined with vendors selling crepes, cotton candy, beer, and many other delights you could imagine. The first stop in Place Jaude was a turntable set up with two gigantic speakers on both sides, each adorned with a young lady dancing atop. After I could not handle the steady ear-ringing, techno “boom-boom,” I moved down the square to the main stage where I happened to catch the last few songs of a French rap act. While I do enjoy the occasional rap rhymes formed by some American “artists,” I cannot say these guys were really, “my cup ‘o tea.” I gave them a chance for a few songs, and then moved on.

Up the hill I walked to the second largest square, Place de la Victoire, where I found a big crowd surrounding a corner where noise was happening. The noise I found out was a head-banging, screaming-into-the-microphone, black-clad group of young men doing something very bad with what I consider as, “music.” An interesting sight, however, as people of the same genre formed a chain, arms spread over each other’s shoulders of head-banging. After awhile, I think you’d have to get a headache from doing this, “dancing.” On the main stage in Place de la Victoire, where I discovered a fabulous funk-hip hop group from Cincinnati. It was apparent from the few, “Mercis” that they did not speak much French, as well as the fact that all their songs were English. I enjoyed them very much, actually doing a little grooving and swaying myself. During the last song of their gig, they invited up some of the local break dancers who had been bustin’ a move in the front row—three of these boys, maybe 17 or 18 years old came up on stage dressed in the oh-so-not French young hipster baggy jeans and hoodies with flat-billed caps. When they finished up, I wandered over to a pub who had an Irish band tooting out some friendly melodies. About 15 people were in front doing some sort of line dancing that I did not know of, a mix of children, 20-somethings, and older. It was if they were some family-dancing group—quite entertaining to watch. Back in Place de la Victoire, a funk band from England was just revving up, their lead singer and curvy black woman with the greatest spirit you can ask for in a lead-singer. When she was not singing she was dancing all around the stage, she looked like she was having so much fun up there, I could not help but smile. The drummer and the guitar-player were accompanied by a line of additional musicians with a clarinet, saxophone, and trumpet. This was probably my favorite act of the whole evening.

Since it was a “school-night” (do we call that “work-night” now?) I had to head home before all of the festivities were over. On the way back, I caught the sounds of the a few bands along the way, some classic-rock covers and the like.

It was a really neat festival, that brought a lot of people out and about in Clermont. There is something about summer and music that just goes together so well.

OFFSIDES!

“Le Coupe du Monde:” World Cup
“Football” Soccer

A couple of weeks ago, I could not have told you what “offsides” meant, or the significance of yellow and red cards, penalty kicks, who Christiano Renaldo was, or any of the like. Now that the World Cup has begun, soccer is in full force all over the world, not excluding Clermont-Ferrand. I have never boasted to be a soccer fan (usually quite the contrary), but with 3 games a day, and little else entertainment, I now often watch a ball get kicked around for 90 minutes at a time.

While soccer has its certain followings in the U.S., it is a huge sport here in Europe. (They don’t know about baseball or basketball!). Since the World Cup has started, I have learned the essential rules of the game and discovered how the tournament works: 8 groups of 4 teams each play each other, the 2 top teams from each group go on to a 16 team single-elimination tournament. I have also learned who I am supposed to cheer for (Obviously go U.S.A!, Allez la France, boo England, and anyone else playing against those teams). However, I think the most important tidbit about soccer that I have come across in the last 2 weeks is the article I found online, “The Top 15 Sexiest Soccer Players in the World Cup.” Now, before each game, I check my list to see whom I should be watching on the field. Soccer players don’t wear masks or helmets, so it’s easy to get a good look at the boys too. Sweet deal!

I need to go look to see who’s playing today…

Workin' 9 to 5 cause I got to make a livin'

“travailler:” to work
“un stage:” an internship
“un bureau:” an office

After a month of sleeping in, plugging away on the computer, and a few side travels, I have left my mini-summer vacation for the coveted internship I have been searching for during the last 3 months. I finally found an internship, and started working this past Thursday (06/17). Now I have to get up early and go to work everyday?? Besides the fact that I need the 6-month internship to earn my diploma and it will be good professional experience for my future, I have honestly been super bored so it will be nice to have something to do everyday!

I am working for a small pharmaceutical company located in Clermont-Ferrand called, Laboratoires Lyocentre. The company a well established, family-owned, having been started in 1956 and subsequently run by the original owners’ sons. The company was actually originally a cheese company, then the scientists working there starting researching for another way to use the “good” bacteria you find in dairy products, and the company evolved into what is it today. Their core products are called “probiotics,” natural medicines using probiotics in order to revamp the good bacteria in the GI tract and the vaginal cavity in cases of infections and such. The company is present in 40 countries, but not yet in the U.S. market, so my mission for the next 6 months will be to research the U.S. market and see if we can develop a strategy to enter. I am pretty excited to be working for this company for multiple reasons: I will learn a lot about the pharmaceutical industry and how different markets function, since it is a small company I will have access to all aspects of the company, enabling me to have a whole-scale perspective on how a company works, and finally, also because it is a small company, I will be working closely with the big boss people, the “VIPs” of the company.

The next two weeks are going to be some pretty heavy training, so by the end I’ll be chalk-full of knowledge about the products and operations of the company. Friday, the other two interns and I were taken on a tour of the factory and laboratories, which are located in a smaller town called Aurillac, about 2 hours south of Clermont. It was neat to see the actual operations on that side of the company, and begin to understand how the products are actually conceived and then produced.

My French should also improve very much over the next 6 months!

Serbian Weekend

“Dobra Don:” Hello
“Hvala:” Thank you
“Jebi ga” (I shouldn’t say what this means, but its usage is encouraged)

Me: “Hey Mom, I’m going to Serbia next weekend”
Mom: “Serbia? Huh.”

Last weekend, Kate and I ventured East to the small country of Serbia. Why Serbia? The question is, why not Serbia? We actually have a friend in the KU MBA program from Serbia, Ivana. We were able to meet up with two other girls from the KU MBA program who are studying in Italy and we all flew over together. I have to admit, I did not know very much about Serbia before going, even having to look at a map to be sure of its exact location.

After two short hours on a flight from Paris to Belgrade, we arrived on Serbian land to be greeted by Ivana. Her dad borrowed a van to cart us all back to her hometown, Zrenjanin (try saying that 10 times fast!), which was about an hour and a half from Belgrade. What made this trip so special (besides seeing friends after a long time), was that we were not exactly “tourists” wandering around aimlessly, we were actually with natives, and we were able to meet Ivana’s family and friends, stay in a home, and really get the “insider’s view” of Serbia. Friends and family made sure we were always well fed and well liquored as well! It’s called, hospitality, especially having the guests take shots of homemade liquor!

When we arrived, Ivana’s father, whom she calls “Čale,” (prounounced kind of like “Charlie,” meaning Dad), took us to a slightly nondescript building where we were to have lunch. While the outside did not seem like a welcoming restaurant as I know it, the inside boasted a long table for us with a checkered tablecloth and happy greetings from the staff. We set down at the table, ready for an already pre-selected menu by Ivana, not so sure what to expect! Wine arrived quickly, as well as the clear liquid that Ivana’s father was drinking. He does not speak English, with no matter, as he enjoyed interacting with us anyway, sometimes us understanding each other by gestures, other times with Ivana translating. Her mother also joined us for lunch; her parents have been divorced for 10 years but still act like old friends. The first course, as traditional in Serbia, was soup and bread. We were served family-style, with plenty of food for everyone, plus some. The soup was fabulous, a creamy broth with all sorts of vegetables and sausage. I could have eaten 3 bowlfuls but I had to remind myself that there was more food coming! Next, we were brought individual (but large) bowls of salad: cucumber and tomatoes with shredded feta on top. I have never had such good feta cheese! Between courses we snacked on break, with the bottomless baskets that kept appearing on the table. Next, huge platters of meat were brought to the table, called “BBQ” in Serbia (though not the same BBQ we know in Kansas). The platters contained 4 or 5 different types of grilled meat; sausage, pork, beef, cheese stuffed pork…all atop a pile of French fries and onions. Just when I thought I had no more room in my stomach, the waiter announced dessert of Serbian pancakes and chocolate (similar to crêpes). All 5 girls declared “Da” (yes) to dessert, while Ivana’s dad nonchalantly said, “No dessert for me, I’m driving,” (after Ivana translated), we all burst out in laughter. We pretty much had to roll ourselves back into the car, and went to Ivana’s home to meet the family and explore around in her neighborhood. Her town is not too big, and Ivana seemed pretty popular, greeting and chatting up with a different person around every corner!

A little interesting background on Ivana; she came to the United States at the end of high school. She started playing basketball in Serbia at age 7, and ended up playing for the Serbian national team when she was 15, which forced her to move to a different town and live in an apartment by herself at such a young age! She said she loved it, however. The problem with playing basketball during high school was that being on the team was very time consuming (2 practices a day), and very little importance was given to schooling. The pay Ivana was getting from playing basketball was what she was living off of, and if she missed a practice (even for school), she got docked pay. After some time, a choice pretty much had to be made between basketball and school, and Ivana knew she needed to get an education, so she found a way to go the U.S. to a prep school in West Virginia where she could play basketball and finish up high school. She was then recruited to play for the University of Kansas. Apparently she loved Kansas so much that she decided to stay after her 4 years to get an MBA as well. She has only been able to visit home once or twice a year in the last 6 years!

Back to the day we arrived-after exploring around town for a bit, we came back to Ivana’s to rest before going out. “Going out” does not happen in Serbia until 11pm or later, and continues to the wee hours of the morning, so we needed to prepare ourselves! Since we had a big lunch, which is the traditional large meal, Ivana’s mom informally served us a platter of sliced meats, bread, and pickles. She also made sure we each had a glass for some Serbian beer. This particular beer was not bad, and it came in a liter bottle for about the equivalent of 1 euro! Nice. Despite the rain, we headed out on the town, first to a bar where there was a rock cover band playing everything from Rage Against the Machine to Katy Perry. We met up with some of Ivana’s friends there and proceeded to have some more beers at very cheap prices. It was a very good time, with lots of dancing! Before the party could die down at this bar, we went to another bar to have some 1 euro pints before it closed. Just when you think the night may be over, we proceeded to go to another bar, a little after-hours basement place that you wouldn’t be able to find unless you knew about it. Pretty VIP. We all stumbled home around 5am, which some light starting to peak out over the horizon…pretty typical for Serbia nightly outings.

A couple of hours later, Ivana woke us all up to go meet her friend for some massages. A massage is just about the only thing that will get me out of bed after only a few hours of sleep! Ivana has a friend who just finished training to be a masseur so we all went and got 10 euro massages! After the spa session, Ivana took us to have a traditional Serbian “breakfast,” which was this huge pastry called Burek—essentially its phyllo dough with whatever filling you choose, can be meat or cheese. We had feta stuffed Bureks, and they were about the size of a half of a pie! It also comes with Serbian yogurt, in which you drink instead of eat with a spoon. This meal also costs the equivalent of 1 euro. Of course everything is really cheap for us in Serbia, but as it is a poorer country, the people who live there do not make that much money so 1 euro is not as cheap to them as it is to us. That afternoon, Ivana’s dad took us in the van to a bigger town about an hour away called Novisad. We started up at a fort atop a big hill to get a view of the town, and then ventured down and across the river. On this particular river, we could see the remnants of a bridge that was bombed in 1999. It was so amazing to me to realize that this country has a recent history, of which I do not know much about---when I think of being on the forefront of conflict years and years ago, it was recent activity for them. The town was hopping with many people out and about on a Saturday afternoon. It was neat to see the different styles and colors of architecture lining the streets, many little buildings boasting bright colors like pink, blue, and green. We also visited the Serbian Orthodox church where Ivana’s brother was recently married. What was most shocking to me was that there were no chairs or benches—everyone just stands during ceremonies.

That night we had dinner outside on the patio at Ivana’s house, while shooing the mosquitoes and cats away. Ivana’s mother served sodoma, which are cabbage rolls filled with rice and meat. They were quite delicious! She kept bringing it out too, making sure we had enough! Later, before going out, she made she we ate some salty food before going out and drinking-some roasted pork leg she had just cooked up. Before we went out, Ivana’s sister, brother-in-law, niece (Nevena) and nephew (Miloush) came over to say hi. She had warned us about her brother-in-law and his affinity for ensuring “hospitality” (drinking). We couldn’t get away without trying some shots of homemade pear liquor. It came in an unmarked bottle of course, which the Serbians say is the only way to do it. Her brother-in-law described to us that if you are having a special guest over, you need to be sure to make or have made some liquor, definitely not store-bought. Many of the liquors they have are made from different fruits, but they all end up clear (you know its strong if it’s clear!!). He also told us that it is actually traditional to take a shot before big lunches in Serbia. (I would need a nap afterward!). We went out later to a bar that was playing old 70’s and 80’s sing-a-long tunes, and we enjoyed some more 1 euro pints. We arrived before Ivana’s friends so we each had a beer, then when the boys acame they went to the bar, and I swear, came back with about 10 beers! Our table was quite full of drinks! Later, we went to a pub where traditional Serbian music is played…a bar full of long tables and people of all ages. I think we arrived at about 2am, with Ivana’s dad and his friends having a good time and with a table ready for us. (he was mad at us because we did not call him the night before at 5am to stop by the place, so we had to go this night!). An hour or so, with eyes drooping and thoughts about the flight in the morning, some of us headed back home.

An interesting tidbit about language in Serbia; while most of the younger generation does speak English, the older does not. Ivana’s mother had learned some in school, and from visiting the States, but her dad spoke no English. Apparently, when her parents went to school, her dad was taught Serbian and Russian, and her mom was taught Serbian and English—at that point they did not know which one would prevail!

I had a great time in Serbia, and I am so happy I went. Ivana asked each of us what we would take away from the trip. I realized that, even despite being kind of a poor country, not far from conflict, the Serbian people are all very nice and very happy people. Everyone we met was very friendly, and ready to have a drink! They are also a very open culture, with families all living close together (Ivanas aunt and uncle live above her mom, and her grandmother lives next door!), and they are jolly, not reserved, often using swear words in good company! It was a very fun weekend, despite not getting much sleep!

Traveling can be very humbling; it makes you realize how much world there is out there that you do not know about.