The Statesman

USU Study abroad asked me to write an article for the university's newspaper, The Statesman. I wrote two because I wasn't sure what to write about, sent them a ton of pictures, and said, "Have at it!" They chose this piece and didn't cut it (it is twice the length that they asked for) so I guessed they liked it!

Aggies Around the World: Feeling the Aggie Spirit in France
by Mari Lindstrom

I know that many of you, my fellow Aggies, are not looking forward to the dreary, dark, cold, icy, windy, “When will it be spring?” spring semester, which I more appropriately refer to as winter semester because it only ends with “spring” when we all should be studying for finals but are instead sunbathing on the Quad. But really, USU isn’t that bad. I will be the first to admit that I wasn’t all gung ho Aggie-spirited before I left to study abroad in France for a year, but after spending a semester at a French university, there are some things about USU I now appreciate more.

First off, you have to understand that I love studying abroad and have never regretted it, but seeing how a socialized basically-free university education is, I will gladly empty my savings account when I return to go to be an Aggie next semester because I really love …

The A. How else am I going to get some random stranger lay one on my kisser? The best I’ve gotten is the traditional, yet sticky beer-smelling bises (kisses) on the cheek from random drunk men. Everyone else just pretends to kiss your cheek, so it is more of a hi-five with your cheeks and not as romantic as you’d think.

Aggie Blue Blikes. Although the rentable bikes at Nantes are definitely cooler (they are orange and green with a bell) you sure pay for it. Not only do you have to put down a 170 euro guarantee, you have to put down 40 more euros to use it for the year. Aggie Blue Bikes? Free. ‘Nough said.

Three words: Aggie Ice Cream.

The bathrooms. I didn’t know how much I loved the bathrooms at USU. They always have toilet paper and don’t smell of acidic kidney waste. There are also many of them, and they get cleaned regularly. They even have mirrors so you can see if you have saved some leftover Angie’s breakfast in your front teeth for later. This doesn’t happen in France. You also live your worst childhood nightmare every time you go to the loo … thinking that you walked into the wrong restroom. But no, you are just in France, where it is socially acceptable for you go to a bathroom while the boys relieve themselves around the corner because you are in a non-gender specified WC.

Choices. Choosing a major in France is like chaining yourself to a brick wall, never being able to move again without causing lots of pain and inconvenience for everyone. Once you pick a major, you stick to it. You don’t even get to dabble your toes in other classes such as group guitar, live animal or carcass evaluation – or fluvial geomorphology just for kicks and giggles (not that they have those classes in France). In France if you are a science major, you can say “au revoir” to an English or art class, and you don’t have the “right” to take some other science classes. At USU we have so many choices: don’t like the professor? Change the class. Don’t like the hour the class is held? Change the class. Don’t like your major? Well, change it. No one will look at you funny until you change it for the fourth or fifth time. In France you don’t have these options.

Heating. I used to think it was sometimes chilly in the Merrill-Cazier Library during winter near the giant glass windows, yet that is nothing compared to sitting in a bare classroom (no computer, no projector, often no garbage can) with the ambient temperature being 12 degrees Celsius. For those of you not accustomed Celsius, that is a balmy 53.6F, which, with humidity, requires one to be fully equipped in a snow coat, long johns, a beanie and mittens to be able to even fathom the idea of taking out your pen and take notes.

The library. Not only does the Merrill-Cazier Library have the awesome barn, it is actually open at convenient hours for the strange variation of homo sapiens that we call college students. I used to complain that the library was only open until 6 or 7 p.m. on the weekends. At the University of Nantes, it is open from 8:30 a.m. to 7 p.m. weekdays and only until 1 p.m. on Saturdays. It makes it quite the adventure to try to find 20 minutes between classes to study at the library. You can forget midnight cram jams with pizza at the library with your friends.

The paper. The paper here is long, and I don’t know why. But I don’t like it. Since the paper isn’t the standard letter-size we have in the U.S., it makes a one-page paper that much longer. And never mind lined paper for taking notes. They are all about the blocks here.

The professors. Not only do we have the infamous Andy Anderson at USU (I have never been so proud of a B+ in my life) we have other teachers who actually care if you learn what they are teaching. I concede that my teachers here have cared more or less about me in France, but they aren’t as willing to be at the mercy (I mean that in a good way) of the students. Here, I am lucky if I get an e-mail back from a professor in a week, but at USU I can have e-mail conversations with professors at midnight about my paper that is due the next week. Aggie professors are willing to work with students, stay after class and do whatever they can to help them succeed. In France, you thank them endlessly if they give you a 12 out of 20 on the last paper you wrote.

School spirit. Team go? Go team? The French don’t even know what to cheer because organized collegiate sports aren’t the thing here, nor is loving your school. I have yet to see a single student wear a T-shirt, hoodie, beanie, pants, socks or other article of clothing bearing his school name, possibly because said articles don’t exist in France. We don’t even have a school mascot.

The secretaries. Send them flowers on Secretary Appreciation Day (April 21), because they deserve it. Not only do they speak the same language as you (figuratively and literally speaking), have e-mail, computers and other forms of technology, they also know what they are doing. All the French paperwork that one must constantly do is confusing enough, but when you have to visit seven different secretaries, each telling you to visit a different secretary, get a fifth form of picture ID along with three photos of you, it becomes ridiculous.

Social life. No sports games, dances, painted faces, hanging out in the university housing, late night movies and pranking your roommates. French students are boring – no offense to them, but they are. I can easily spend two ours sitting in my hallway and see no one. You get looked at strangely for saying “bonjour” to people you don’t know, and you can just keep your Chacos, shorts and hi-tech backpack in your closet because you will get death glares if you are not silent, on the verge of anorexia and have a solid Eastpak backpack for boys or a grossly oversized handbag for the ladies. And dating? That doesn’t exist. You don’t have the cute guy in the next room ask you out, getting a significant other happens only through the law of physical attraction. If you find someone fit, as they say in England, you give a go at holding hands. The other accepts? You’re a couple. The other rejects? Move on. You don’t get a chance to show the other that beyond your clammy hands is your great personality.

Technology. Do you know how we all complain that there aren’t lots of computers on campus and that online registration is a nightmare? It isn’t. There are maybe 20 computers in the library here, and you have to go to a separate computer to print papers. Online registration? Doesn’t exist. Try finding each professor and seeing if you can be in the class – said class being offered only one time during the week, which naturally coincides with two other classes that you want to take, and said professor never answers e-mails and has office hours once a week while you are working. I definitely won’t complain again about online registration, thinking the Internet is slow or having to wait in line for three minutes to use a computer at the TSC. Even USU’s student cards are more advanced. Although it was an adventure to stick the sticker with my information on the card (all the first letters cut off), glue on the minuscule photo of my head that I had to go downtown to print off, go to the library to get a barcode for which you must give your name, nationality, address and phone number, I prefer our nifty cards all ready to go and not from the stone age.

So Aggies, although it may be cold out, at least you have the Aggie Spirit to keep you warm. Team go.

Mari Lundstrom is part of the USU Study Abroad program. Look every Monday for more students’ experiences abroad.