Lights, camera, Montpellier!

Montpellier is a city for the young! There are universities scattered all over the city that cater to various fields of study and professions. In fact, the university where I am taking French lessons is the International School of Mediterranean Agriculture (fun fact: it has the status of an embassy, so technically I am leaving France every time I attend class). Montpellier is also home to the oldest medical school in France. Nowdays, technical schools, law schools and other universities are plentiful, which means that the student population is incredibly diverse.

Although Montpellier does have some beautiful historic buildings and museums, I decided to view the city as a local: going to the cinema, visiting the zoo and finding the best cheap eats. Instead of a hotel, I am staying in a very nice and spacious guest room, courtesy of my host Safia and AirBnB. Safia lives in a residential area of Montpellier surrounded by small parks where I spent one rainy afternoon running through the winding paths. The tram stop is a couple blocks from her town house, so it only takes about 15 minutes to get to city center.

In the mornings I would head to another part of the city for my hour-long private French lessons with Yamina. Yamina reminded me of my favorite high school French teachers—the ones that supplied me with the language tools I needed to continue French at the 300-level in university and inspired my dreams of dropping everything and moving to France (this trip is thanks to you guys!!). When I suddenly broke down in class because I was feeling frustrated with my slow progression, she did not make me feel like I was acting childish (although I was). In my state, I couldn’t properly explain why I was upset, which made me even more discouraged. However, it was as if Yamina knew me on a more personal level then our two-days together would have suggested. She recognized my perfectionist nature right away, and pointed out that I had to give myself a little room for error. She reminded me that learning a language—even one that I used to be proficient in—takes patience and practice.

Yamina catered our private sessions to subjects that will be useful to me in my public health project in Morocco. For instance, the first lesson had to do with epidemics and international public health efforts (think Ebola). She based the second lesson off of my experience working with at-risk youth at The Health Center in Walla Walla. It centered on vocabulary and discussion terms related to sexual, physical and psychological abuse of women and children. The third lesson focused on taboo psychological issues that are prevalent in Morocco.

Although three lessons were not enough to make a significant difference, I do feel like my comprehension has improved, and I am now equipped with an arsenal of vocabulary relevant in the hospital setting.

During my stay in Montpellier, I learned of an international independent film festival called “°36 Cinema” that was going on. Featured films came from mostly Mediterranean countries such as Italy, France, Spain, Greece, Turkey and even Morocco. Thanks to a helpful tip from Yamina, I was able to buy tickets at my language school for only four euros (full price was six euros). I ended up watching a feature-length French/Moroccan film called “Le Veau d’Or.” The film was in French and Darija with French subtitles. It was about a 17-year old boy who is sent by his father to the Atlas Mountains in Morocco to work with his cousin. The boy ends up stealing a huge cow that belongs to the king of Morocco. Madness ensues. “Le Veau d’Or” was an understated but hilarious movie. Although I didn’t understand every plot point, I was able to follow along well enough to understand the general story.

In an effort to save money, I didn’t eat out very much in Montpellier. However, I tried cheap street food like roasted chestnuts, quiche and crêpes. And like a true local, I found a favorite café, which I returned to three days in a row! The café was just off of the main Place de la Comédie, on one of the winding pedestrian streets. It was called Georges Café, and it was nestled in a tiny courtyard with a wrought iron gate and tall shrubs shrouding it from the bustle of the city. The café served a variety of organic teas and coffee as well as the most delicious cookie I have ever tasted. The home-baked treat was a sort of “everything cookie” with chocolate chips, candied orange pieces and citron all mixed in together. I am definitely bringing this idea back home to try.

With its classy but quirky and cultured but approachable atmosphere, one only needs spend a day visiting this city to understand the appeal of living in Montpellier. I loved Nice, but Montpellier feels like home.

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