chapter 2

As I stood there amazed at this sudden “cultural” shock, my eyes flickered onto the tiny details of what I initially thought was a shit pot. It was actually a bidet and not a shit-pot (a bidet looks similar but does not have the shit pot hole); Not too much relief but nevertheless, I had little choice. My eyes took in the room. It was an ordinary 7x6 feet probably. White walls, white bed-sheet, brown wooden wardrobe and a huge study table. The black flooring meant I wouldn’t get stares for not cleaning my room. The wall above the room heater had black marks; the heating seemed to be effective. And right in front was a huge window.

I opened it and it felt like I had fallen straight into one of those Colgate fresh ads with nature blowing fresh kisses at me. With the troubles I was getting into, you wouldn’t expect me to check air quality all this while before. This air felt fresh. I had recovered from the “shit-pot” shock and was now staring at the breathtakingly beautiful sky. The sun was playing hide and seek with the dark grey clouds, each fighting for dominance. And their colourful interplay turned the sky into a beautiful mix of yellow, orange and grey interspersed with flashes of the hiding blue. As I stood there, lost at the beauty beyond, I heard my teeth chattering. It was cold, around 2 degrees at 12.30 in the afternoon. Awakened by this sudden unpleasant realisation, I closed the window, ready to explore what France was going to throw at me next.

I was hungry by then and we decided that the university restaurant would be the ideal place to get going on the social aspect. The place was buzzing with activity. It was huge, for MICAns reference, it was probably bigger than 3 SHs combined. This was the cheapest wholesome food you could get anywhere in France. 2.85 euros for a choice between a 3 course meal and an 8 inches pizza. In the shabbiest of restaurants outside, the same meal would cost nothing less than 10 euros.

Very soon I was to realise that my limited understanding of the French language would be severely tested again. There was a lot of stuff to choose from and I had no clue which one was what. Especially the non-veg part since I don’t eat beef and pork. I quickly queued up behind Devika and blurted out “moi aussi” to the restaurant staff. It meant please serve me the same food as hers. Jugaad I tell you, always works for me. We found a table for ourselves and to my pleasant surprise, were joined by some more international students. The lunch felt truly international as we all introduced ourselves to each other. I had started feeling comfortable with the place already.

Our next stop was the admin office where we were greeted by Ms Maggy, our international relations officer. She took us through a quick tour of the school, proudly showing us the beautiful building and its facilities. Unaware of the facilities and her sweet introductions to them, my eyes were blissfully enjoying the swarming “beauties” walking around the school. You have to give it to them. French girls do make jaws drop. The fact that I could see a lot of them looking back at me certainly puffed me up no ends. It was a completely different matter that the looks were more of general curiosity than anything more subtle. I choose to ignore this part.

We were then handed over to the Aloha team who I must say were of enormous help to us. We got our local phone connections and bus cards made. A special mention for Evelyne who patiently helped us out with everything. Thank you !

All done, we decided to go to the supermarket and get our supplies. We took a bus back home, our hands full of stuff we would need in our next four months of stay. The next day we were invited to a house party at Aleksi’s house. Aleksi, fondly called “Al Sexy” by a lot of his female friends, is from Finland and also a part of our IBM group. His nickname should give you a fair idea of his appeal. The concept of house parties was pretty interesting there. The host invites everyone to his/her house and everyone carries their own booze or food. I thought that this was a brilliant idea. Makes life simpler for everyone.

The party was in the evening today and most people I knew were buying wine. Now, I am not a big fan of wine and four months of France has still not changed my preference. I decided to go in for what I liked. Label 7 scotch, my first international whiskey. Well it wasn’t that great a brand but nevertheless, suited my pocket. All set and excited for our first party, we left for Aleksi’s house at around 9 pm. There were so many people there. I have to say that I felt a little lost in the beginning since I hardly knew anyone and everyone else seemed to know each other. But Aleksi was very sweet in introducing us to his other friends and two three drinks later, we all were surely having fun. It had been less than 48 hours since I had left Delhi for my first international trip. And here I was laughing away with faces I never knew existed before. India seemed very far away at that particular moment to me.

As we were leaving for the night, Devika asked me if I was game for a road trip the next day. I don't know if you generally get shocked when you’re high. For a moment I wondered if things were happening too fast, road trip to where, how, with whom, etc etc. Thankfully the Label 7 took over and I nodded in agreement. I would have said yes to anything at that moment...

chapter 1

Been long due, this is gonna be a series of posts about that period which would count amongst the sweetest and happiest moments I’ve ever had. I don’t know why I’d decided to apply for the exchange program, specifically France. I convinced the logical side of my brain that I would do some research on luxury branding but as it turned out, the logical part went into hibernation the moment I stepped on French territory, THANKFULLY. The grin was back

The start was thrilling. On the flight, someone fell ill and there was an announcement asking for a doctor. Being the nephew of a doctor, I was carrying a full box of medicines with a list of when to use what. I gladly called the air hostess and offered my free services. It felt brilliant when she asked me if I was a doctor. Not to let the moment of glory go, I said no but told them about my medicine box which had a lot of medicines that might help. The look on the air hostess very clearly told me that they needed a doctor not a chemist. :P But I still think I did the right thing.

We arrived at the CDG airport, Paris earlier than the Indian standards of time that we are used to. Over enthusiastic, we gladly accepted the ticket counter lady’s offer of taking the train to Poitiers (our home for nx 4 months) an hour earlier than we had expected. Happy being before time for a change, I flicked out my Vodafone to call Devika and inform her of our change in plans. She was supposed to pick us up from the Poitiers train station. My foresight had failed to warn me that I was in international waters. My outgoing calls were barred!

Ah not to worry, this was an international airport, there sure must be a public phone booth. We have so many of them in India. I saw a phone booth and walked towards it showing Vodafone the finger in my head. Alas, the phone needed coins or a credit card. My bank never told me that coins existed in this part of the world. All I had was a bundle of 50 euro notes which NOBODY at the airport was ready to change. There were no shops in sight where I could buy something from and get some coins either. And all we could get from the helpdesk was, “I speak only French”. It was 6 a.m and I don’t think the French like being woken up at that hour. I looked around for a kind soul and found a well-heeled guy talking away in English on his Blackberry. I asked him if could change 50 Euros for me and “accidentally” let slip in that I needed it to make a call. The world hasn’t lost its kindness!!

Devika had to make arrangements with the international team at school but thankfully they agreed to have us picked an hour earlier. Devika, by the way, is my friend at MICA who had reached France a week earlier. Why we reached a week late is another romantic story between me and the U.K embassy. We had decided to spend our holiday in U.K and for some reason, the U.K embassy wasn’t very approving of it. Anyways, we got down to the underground TGV station to catch our train. Both I and Aditi had four months of luggage to be put onto the train. Aditi, by the way, is the third MICAn who had been chosen for this exchange program to France and we had reached Paris together. If you thought that only Indian families travel heavy, think again. There was this group which was getting down at the airport and had tons of luggage. Polite that I thought we should be, we waited patiently at the train door for them to get down and us to get inside. Suddenly I remembered that the train was not going to wait forever. To my utter shock, I saw that the other passengers had already gotten in from the other door of the compartment. And we ran. Ten minutes of shoving and heaving and we were comfortably sitting, all set and relieved that everything’s gonna be alright now.

I decided that this would be a good time to play some music and my generous soul switched on the laptop and started playing my fav playlist of English songs. I chose my English playlist so that my neighbours in the compartment did not feel isolated and also kept it on speaker so that everyone could enjoy the music. Remembering Ashvin from MICA, 8.30 a.m, I thought is a good time for music. NO! Anytime there is a bad time for “public display of music”. The polite head which stuck out of my front seat immediately reminded me of this. Headphone on, it was time for Cricket 2007 on my laptop.

The train was supposed to reach Poitiers at 10.10 a.m and not to be outdone this time, I was very alert to the time. We went near the door at 10 a.m so that we could get our luggage out and we stopped at the station exactly at 10.10. Happy, I just confirmed with another gentleman whether it was Poitiers only and he nodded his head. Here we were! We quickly offloaded our luggage and looked around the platform for signs of acquainted life. There was no life! Aditi saw a board saying “Welcome to Futuroscope” and we saw the train doors shutting automatically. I could not stop smiling and Aditi had freaked out. She might be forgiven to think that I had gone mad. But it was gorgeous. We had gotten off one station earlier. Our train was late.
We found the ticket counter and asked for the next train to Poitiers. The next train was 3 hours later and the lady suggested taking a cab instead. It would have cost us 20 Euros and we gladly accepted it. In between my phone rang. Incoming was working.  Devika had obviously not found us at the platform. It’s easy to laugh now, but it wasn’t funny at all then. They were very worried but thankfully Futuroscope was only 30 mins away. The international team had offered to ‘rescue’ us, but we told them we had hired a cab and would be fine.

30 mins later we reached Poitiers station, taking in the spectacular beauty of this part of the world from the cab en route. I could literally see my camera smile in approval. The familiar sight of life at the Poitiers station broadened my smile further and a few hugs, bonjours and my first Mercedes ride later, I was outside room no. A325, Residence Marie Curie – my abode for the next 4 thrilling months. I turned open the door and found a shit-pot just one feet from my bed. My jaw dropped. I am lazy but so much????.....to be continued