A bank account!

Poor ASU. I demand a government inquiry into how the game deteriorated so rapidly after our 21-3 half-time lead. Blame MUST be delivered!

The past week has been relatively uneventful. I opened a bank account - a momentous feat - at Societe Generale, not out of any particular alluring features that they offered, but because they had the least stringent paperwork requirements. I only had to show... my passport, my student card and the "attestation" that allows me to move into the university residence. Other banks demanded the "carte du sejour," basically a French green card and harder to obtain than Fazio's resignation, or additional proof of lodging, like a gas or electric bill. Those are hard to produce when you live in a dorm... I was pleasantly surprised to find out that Societe Generale had a relatively low monthly fee, only 90 euro cents. Other banks range from 1.50 to 5 euros. The paperwork that I received is absolutely astounding - fifty pages of general banking regulations, fifteen pages of legalese related to their internet banking access (as a student, I benefit from free internet banking - until I'm 25, whereupon I have to pay 50 cents per login!) and thirty more pages of miscellaneous rules. Grr. I have to wait seven days before I receive a letter with a secret code. Then, I take that secret code into my branch and they give me a bank card and a Visa debit card. If I want to login to my account online, I take that secret code, add 8 more secret digits to the end and fill out a complicated, asinine form online. Then, their system automatically snail mails me a letter that I have to print out, sign and mail back -- then I'm allowed to use the online banking 'feature.'

I'm now allowed to play basketball in France. I successfully had a doctor examination (free for students!), which consisted solely of the doctor taking my blood pressure and pulse and asking me if I smoked. I took that approval form to the "bureau des sports," filled out another form and paid 25 euros for a license. The paperwork has to be sent to Paris, and I'm supposed to go back to the bureau des sports in 15 days to retreive the official license, but I'm cleared in the meantime. Tuesday night, Loic, my French friend, invited me to play "korfball," a Dutch hybrid of basketball and handball - involving lots of passing, no running and eight people per team, four male and four female. Rather bizarre at first, but fun once I started to finally make baskets (more difficult than basketball since it involves no backboard and an actual wicker basket suspended on a 12-foot high pole).

The rendezvous with my ex-roommate went calmly, if icily. She showed up with a massive fellow who looked like he was a mercenary. I said thanks under my breath for the remaining daylight, grabbed my massive box of Frosties and bade au revoir for good, I hope.

There's a massive country-wide strike planned from 8pm Monday to 8am Wednesday, as workers protest the "economic policies of the center-right government." Luckily I'm moving into the university residence Monday and won't have to worry about taking the tram or bus for classes on Tuesday. It'll be interesting if we even have class... which won't be a problem, since they're so easy. Confusingly, homework appears to be voluntary. I completed requisite translation assignments, and worksheets for a grammar class -- and none of it was checked, collected or even acknowledged. Slightly peculiar.

I went to a chocolate museum with a group of American girls (whose personalities are vastly superior to those of their French counterparts) last weekend. The museum was called "Le Paradis du Chocolat" and was in La Cote Saint Andre, birthplace of famed composer Hector Berlioz:


Like usual, the country scenery along the highway was magnificent:


Some sections of the museum were, um, a bit ethnically anachronistic:


I successfully completed a chocolate trivia scavenger hunt, but then fell asleep during FOUR consecutive 'history of chocolate' videos. Outside, the fresh air woke me up, and I contemplated the deep, dark mysteries of chocolate:


The "Palais" was set high on a hill and featured a gorgeous view of the valley's farmlands:


On our way down, we spotted the Chateau of Louis XI, constructed between 1274 and 1281, and then rebuilt in the 16th century after being destroyed (by fire?). I went to investigate, even though the front door didn't look very inviting:


After eight flights of stairs, I made it to the top and tried to go out onto the roof -- but as soon as I tried to jiggle open a little locked door, I was almost deafened by a massive buzzing sound produced by a fleet of crazed hornets, thirsty for my ripe American flesh. I beat a hasty retreat, and then bravely went back to document the rather eerie spiral staircase:


The rest of the afternoon passed relatively calmly, as afternoons tend to pass when you're not being pursued by predatory parasites armed with mutant stingers.

Last night I went to the first event of the week-long Grenoble Arts Festival. For seven euros, I watched an awesome performance by two bands - "Poum Tchack" from Marseille and "No Mad?" - and I have no idea how to describe their music. It was like a "fusion" of... French, Italian, Greek, Yugoslavian and gypsy music. Both bands had six members - Poum Tchack had drums, an accordion, a violin, bass, saxophone/trumpet and guitar, No Mad? had drums, accordion, violin, bass and two guitars. The music had a frenetic pace, incredible energy and infectious tempo. I loved it! (And regretted not bringing my camera with me; I need to get a shoulder holster for it.)

It's overcast and raining here (surprise!), but I'm going to escape to a movie theatre soon. I've spent the afternoon planning excursions - my calendar is filling up! I'm going to Geneva and possibly Zurich from Oct. 6th to 10th, Eastern Europe (vague, I know) at the end of October/early November, Florence and Rome in mid-November, London ~ when my friend has successfully completed her courtship of Jude Law, and Lyon on November 28... for a Coldplay concert. Hopefully I can sneak in trips to Madrid (siesta, fiesta!), Amsterdam (Van Gogh, Anne Frank museums) and Munich (BMW museum, WW2 museums).