Allez, viens, c'est bientôt la fin...*

*Go, come, it's almost the end (main line of a reasonably popular song here)

All I can say is that I’m getting worse and worse at this blogging business. But I won’t delay things any longer.

Since the beginning of second semester, time has passed like an underwater missile – subtly, swiftly, and unnoticed until BOOM, reality hits when I realise that I have less than a month left. I keep thinking to myself that I have time. Time to see sights, time to cross things off my bucket list, time to relax, time to suck out the very essence of this city and this country and this life. Do forgive me the corniness, won’t you? It’s just that this has been far and beyond the best year of my life. Living and breathing another culture makes you so much more aware of everything. I bike down the street and I notice the fine details that I could pass a million times at home and never see. It's like someone has increased the focus and turned up the volume. Every experience is magnified 150%, and the knowledge that I have little time left to even have experiences makes each day that much more dear. Even when we do nothing. Even when we have days that consist of going to class and then spending the rest of the day in the library. It's like I forgive the dull, awkward, uncomfortable or frustrating moments because even they form a part of this dream year. The bad days seem less bad than a bad day at home would... "rose coloured-glasses" and all that. Bref...

I should get on to resuming these experiences I'm waxing poetic about. I'm going to cut this post into sections, as I'm sure none of you has an interest in reading 45000 words on my past month and a half.

The month of April arrived spectacularly. Angers went from having a few budding trees here and there to erupting in pale pink and violet lilacs. And oh the scent of them... the smell of lilacs is one of my favourites, and they were just everywhere! Cascading over old stone walls, pushing through iron fences, climbing up houses, swinging merrily from every jardin in the city. What's more, there were scores of cerisiers (cherry trees) in blossom throughout the city centre. All the bare trees and bushes became lush and green. The weather went from pleasant to gorgeous - mid-20s every day. The restaurants and bars all set up their outdoor tables, filling the sidewalks and pedestrian streets. The French started wearing colours! Suddenly their wardrobe of soft neutrals was replaced by pastels and jewel tones. I could go on, but if you're in Canada, you may already stopped reading out of disgust. 

What did we do of interest? Well, we had yet another picnic by the river. I climbed a clock tower, on s'est baladé (we went for strolls) along the banks, we sang songs to the fishes, and Matthieu, Adrien, Maëlle, Jason, and I stayed until 4 in the morning. On another night, my friend Hélène had a housewarming party where we danced the night away to such hits as "Cotton Eye Joe." We've spent many a lovely evening at her place since we became friends. Hélène is a prof at La Catho (my school) and is good friends with Matthieu and Adrien. I've met such a fantastic group of linguaphiles over the course of this year.

Oh, thinking of language reminds me that I forgot to write about the IPLV (language department) Gala that took place in March. Each department at the university is like it's own internal association; each has its own student executive and plans a range of activities throughout the year, such as galas. This gala was open to CIDEF students, so Matt and I decided to attend with our Monday lunchtime conversation girls. It was a chance to get dolled up and to spend time in the Grenier Saint Jean, a beautiful old refurbished granary across the river. Our tickets bought us a decent meal that included wine (not something you'd see at a Canadian university dinner, that's for sure), and an evening of dancing. The music wasn't anything to sneeze at, but the company was nice and it was fun to take part in one of the few school-spirited events that ever takes place. And everyone looked so lovely in their robes et costumes (dresses and suits).

Another evening I should mention is Adrien's Remise de diplômes (diploma/graduation ceremony). Adrien finished his masters in the spring of last year, but the school waits almost an entire year to hand out the diplomas. Apparently, it's rather a recent thing that they even hold a ceremony at all! They've adopted the North American tradition, but the how the ceremony plays out is rather different. Adrien kept telling Matt and me that it wasn't going to be exciting, that we really shouldn't waste our time going. Regardless, we arrived at the congress centre amongst the floods of parents and graduates and sat ourselves next to Matthieu and Adrien's mum (who was very sweet, as expected). At 6:30, a few of the university's important figures gave speeches, and then the process began. The students were divided by masters programme. For some there were almost 50 students but for others there were only one or two. One person from each group said a quick word and then the diplomas were handed out alphabetically with no pause between each person. No pomp, no circumstance. We grinned and waved when Adrien's group came to the stage, but there was no opportunity to holler obnoxiously for him in particular. After about 3 hours the whole routine came to an end and everyone reunited in another room for an apéro. We feasted on petit-fours and champagne until it was time to go. It wasn't the grand performance that a graduation back home is, but I thought it was fascinating from a cultural point of view to see how it was done over here. And to see our beau gosse (handsome boy) take his walk across the stage.

Other than these events, not too much happened before the Easter Holidays. (I have a feeling I'm missing something... but nevermind.) The due date for our term papers was drawing ever nearer, which meant that my days were spent reading about the secularisation of France. It's an intriguing subject actually, and the school's library is chock-full of resources, it being a catholic university. The library here closes at the ridiculous hour of 7pm and is never open on the weekends. So in the evenings, die-hard students make their way to the library of the University of Angers, which is open until 10:30pm, even on Satudays. Not that I'm particularly die-hard, but there were a few evenings where I found myself to be on a roll, only for that to be cut short by "La bibliothèque ferme dans 5 minutes. Merci de ranger vos affaires et blah blah blah..." (the library will close in 5 minutes, please clear away your things...), and so I would go over to the Bibliothèque de Saint Serge. Perhaps it's just my memory failing me, but I can't remember doing so much proper research for a paper in my life. 


But all work and no play makes Jack a dull boy, so on April 16th we all set off for two weeks of holiday. But that, I think, is a story for another day. 
Bisous!