inside Rhodes

Bonjour à tous from Aix-en-Provence!

I am a Rhodes senior & Buckman Fellow studying at the American University Center of Provence (AUCP) in Southern France for the fall semester.  Fondly referred to as “the American Center” (spoken with a French accent), AUCP is

Here with my language partners, sharing slices from Pizza Capri in front of the Statue of Roi Rene on the Cours Mirabeau

anything but American.  It’s strategically located on the Cours des Arts et Métiers, right next to one of the Grande Ecole in Aix.  The upper levels of our buttery, Mediterranean villa overlook the adjoining Parc Rambot, where my friends and I often spend our two hour lunches.

Being a sort of “college town,” Aix is bustling with students, history, and culture.  And fountains.  Lots of fountains.  This weekend is particularly scholastic as le weekend patrimoine, where nearly all the government-operated cultural establishments are free and open to the public.  My French host parents, Colette and Patrick Pollet, are planning to take me to the Musée Granet, le Parc Vendôme, and l’Hôtel de Ville today.  For tomorrow, I’ve heard whispers of visiting a chateau….

The weather is exactly as you’d picture it—as always in Provence—gloriously sunny, in the 70s, & with very low humidity.  I walk half an hour every morning to the American Center from my family’s apartment near Aix’s hospital.  You’d think I’d be slim and trim by now from my daily promenades, but my host mother’s French cuisine has put that notion to rest (foodie details later).  The location is very convenient, about a fifteen-minute walk from the busiest parts of the town.

I’ve noticed so far that my paragraphs do not quite stay on task with my topic sentences…but we’ll attribute that to the combination of my being a science major (so NOT an excuse) and this being a blog (equally poor reason, see the film Julie & Julia.)  At Rhodes, I am a pre-med, Biology major, French minor.  This is like one of those exercises where you try to pick the thing that doesn’t fit out of a lineup.

So, French…my name is French, as my host father jokingly reminds me whenever I dress up to go out, “ohh, Mademoiselle DeLozier, etc.”  Why else?  I love the unexpected abilities of the language, its fluidity & romance that can abruptly spiral into a flood of “fightin’ words,” as we say back home.  The “Art of French Conversation” is a cultural microcosm in itself.  But how does studying fine arts fit with my proposed career as a scientist?

Medicine = science + art.  The scientific foundation is irreplaceable for treating the patient’s ailment; whereas, establishing the doctor-patient relationship remains more artistic.  Differing cultural or lingual backgrounds, subject of education, and physical (dis)comfort are only a few of the barriers that must be overcome when the patient first presents to the doctor.  Communication and understanding are essential to receive an accurate history and discuss necessary tests and treatment options.  What better way to acclimate to the patient’s disarray and dependence than learning to live in foreign place, speaking a foreign language, where oftentimes one feels disarrayed and completely dependent on her new neighbors’ mercy?

Now that formalities have been dutifully addressed, I promise more exciting news of Provence in my following entries, for it seems I shall be chronicling my cultural journey for the next four months.  So, adieu for now, but à bientôt!  And of course, bises for both cheeks.