An American Girl in Avignon
Friday, May 29, 2009
Les Jours qui passent très vite
May 29, 2009I came to a frightening realization today. Starting tomorrow, I will have only two weeks left in France. Vraiment, France, vraiment? Where has my spring ran off to? Time is such I fleeting thing. Part of me feels like I just got here, but the other part of me feels like I have lived here for years and am never going home. If you were to ask me when I wanted to come home, honestly, at this moment and time, my reply would be, “Never.” I’m highly considering chaining myself to a pillar at Versailles and never coming home… “Dear Mom and dad, please save yourselves some time tomorrow by not calling the police when I don’t get off the plane. I have decided to extend my stay in France. Merci.” Of course, I am only joking, and I only say this before I start thinking about everyone back in the US that I want to see. Still, more time here would be wonderful. This experience is unlike any other, and I really would love to stay longer…but the plane tickets have already been bought, and I need a job. It’s back to reality for me…
Speaking of reality, Martine revealed to us some information that brought us all back down to earth. Since our water heater is still broken, we have been using the shower at Martine’s neighbor’s apartment upstairs. The truth can be a shocking thing: this woman is an alcoholic. She has been this way for ten years. Although her apartment wasn’t disgusting, it wasn’t clean, and Martine said that it was “a cause de l’alcool.” The woman did seem a little loopy, but I just assumed that this was her personality. Seemingly friendly, I did not hesitate to ask her to take pictures of the gorgeous view off of her balcony or to plop myself on the sofa and watch the French version of Who Wants to be a Millionaire while waiting for Sakinah to be finished with her shower. Looking back, the signs were there, I just didn’t seem them: empty bottles, wine breath; I just assumed that the few bottles and mess were caused by her son. Although her sickness has spanned over ten years, Martine said that things were slowly but surely improving. It made me sad to think that a woman as kind as her could struggle with something so horrible. What gets me more is that her twenty-two year old son who lives in a loft above her apartment seems to not be helping the situation at all. Martine has been kind to the woman and even had her own son talk to the son of Martine. They are in denial. The first step to recovery is recognizing the fact that you have a problem and overcoming denial. Sometime this can be one of the most difficult things to do.
Poor Martine. She is having some difficulties with her boss. He is treating her unfairly, overworking her, and refers to her as “la vieille” old woman. I am sorry, but I don’t know who you think you are, but that s vraiment unacceptable. I don’t understand why anyone would treat someone as kind as Martine like that. People are horrible sometimes. She was very nervous this morning, because she had a meeting with her director to discuss her situation. When she returned this afternoon, she had a smile on her face. Things are looking up.
Today, I finally gave my oral presentation. Oh my…that was interesting. When I ran home after history class to get some last minute preparation in, my internet would not work at all (I found out later that this was because my WiFi button had been turned off). Also, my flash drive wasn’t working properly, so I couldn’t send the professor my presentation before I gave it like we were supposed to…I hope that he doesn’t take off points. Not having much time to practice, me and my roomies sat around the kitchen table with our laptops, scanning over our power points at the last minute (I had to convert it three times to get to the right version!), and drank the white wine that came from Nimes (town I visited earlier in the program) we had bought at the supermarket. Why can I always speak French better after a glass of wine? Maybe there is some phenomenon where people revert to their second languages after drinking? I need to Google it...It is going to be so weird going home and wondering, “So why can’t I have wine with my dinner?” Oh yeah…it’s illegal. It’s so weird to think that now after being in France, the wine capital of the world, and having it all the time. Anyway, after that, I went off to class, feeling confident, but when I got there, (of course we were late, as usual,) someone had already started theirs. I was supposed to be first. Oops. When it was finally time for me to go, I walked up there with confidence, only to realize that I had pulled up the wrong flash drive file and had gotten through three slides of my project before noticing I was presenting the unedited version. I apologized, had to find out what the problem was (which took another ten minutes), then had to start over. This was not a good way to start off.
My first half went pretty well, but then, my speaking and confidence wore off after I stopped to ask a question and the professor jumped in. I lost my rhythm after that. My presentation was way, way too long, I was sweating like a pig, and I’m pretty positive that I bored everyone out of their minds. In spite of this, the professor seemed impressed with all of the work I had done and told me “excellent travail,” after I was finished. Maybe I need to give myself more credit. After all, you are your toughest critic. I bs-ed every single answer to all of the questions he asked me afterwards, and amazingly enough, it sounded like I knew what I was talking about. Miracles happen. Whew, I am so glad that it over with!
Normally, I don’t have a problem speaking in front of people and get a rush from performing. The times I stutter/make an idiot out of myself are when: I’m speaking in a foreign language, talking to a guy a like (oh…the stupid things I have said and done because of nerves and fear. Trust me, they are bang-you-head-against-the-wall worthy), or times when I’ve been just plain nervous or scared. Thank God that this is over! Oh wait…that’s right, I have two large papers due Tuesday, an exam on Wednesday, another on Thursday, two projects to finish, and two more exams the following week. Thank goodness I have Marseille, our last week of basically kindergarten work so we can enjoy our last few moments abroad, and Paris to look forward to! In spite of the work, we always seem to find time for fun! For example, I am leaving in a few minutes to go to a new club in town. Yeah, I love Avignon.
Excursion to Marseille tomorrow… super excited about this! It’s time for the Grand Finale!
P.S. the picture is the courtyard in front of my house :)
Wednesday, May 27, 2009
Familiarity in a Foreign Land
May 27, 2009French people are friendlier than we give them credit for. Case and point: my host mom. She is one of the nicest ladies I have ever met. Last night, she took us to a fête des voisins, a national holiday in France where neighbors get together for food, music, and drinks, to “show us off.” She is planning on taking us to Aix-en-Provence next Sunday and also Les Halles on Saturday. She is like the French mother I never had. (Love you mom, but she is like a second mom to me, now :)…by the way, you need to come to France and meet her. You would love her!) She offered to let me, Sakinah, and Katie stay with her if we ever make it back to France. Trust me, I will be back.
Thankfully, I was spared having to give my literature presentation today because of the heat, limited time, and technical difficulties. Thank, God! More time to perfect…and be nervous. After knowing that my stress was over, at least for the day, I felt like I could finally rest (I didn’t do this the night before, because of the fight). Sakinah and I threw on some clothes after our naps before la Fete de voisins, ready to socialize with our French neighbors. Katie’s parents are in town, so she went to have one last dinner with them before they leave tomorrow.
When we arrived in the courtyard by le Palais des Papes and saw all the French friends and families standing around, drinking wine, discussing intelligent things, and listening to jazz, we felt way out of our league. So what did we do: head straight for the wine and les hors d’oeuvres, of course. When in France…
Feeling awkward after being introduced to some neighbors, we took our seats at a table away from the main party. Of course, there was someone already sitting there: a family with 3 girls and one little boy. The mother came over and started talking to us, and inevitably, recognized our accents. Dang it, one day, I am going to fool somebody! Once she found out we were from America, it’s as if we became the hot topic of the evening. Several adults came over just to talk to us, and the woman’s daughter, who happens to be ten, wanted our phone number and kept asking us the most adorable questions like: Have you been to New York? Do you know George Clooney and Brad Pitt? It was so cute. She had been studying English for 5 years, so she spoke really well. Again, another point for my advocacy for starting foreign languages in elementary school.
My highlight of the evening though is when we met the mayor, yes the mayor, of Avignon. She, yes she, shook our hands and talked with us for a little while. Her photographer got our addresses and after we took a picture with her, he said he would send the photo to our houses in the US. I hope that it is in the paper here…how cool would that be? I can dream, can’t I!?
Well, when the Americans come to Avignon, man, they come to Avignon! After the party, we went out with our OU friends and met students from the University of Indiana who are studying here as well. They’ve been here for only a week or so and are staying as long as we are. Coincidence, n’est-ce pas?! They are all really cool and are studying French like us. The only difference is that their program is only a month. They went out with us for a little last night, and of course, we want to show them around town and spend time with students we can all relate to. Funny the people you meet when you’re not looking to meet anyone.
Okay, I seriously need to get off this blog and do some work so I can have fun tonight. I am super excited for this weekend though, because it is our last overnight excursion with the OU group. Gotta make it count. Here I come, Marseille!
Merci for reading, and Bisous tout le monde! XXX
Voir c'est Croire
May 26, 2009Things are slowly coming to a close here. Although I know all good things must come to an end eventually, I’m not ready… and I don’t want them to. Here’s what is/has been going on:
Well, I am sitting in my room, procrastinating mes devoirs, as the whipping Mistral keeps opening and shutting my window. Our water heater is broken, so I took an Olympian-worthy quick shower last night under the Titanic-like conditions. The day before, I took a hot shower at Martine’s neighbor’s house though, so I can’t really complain. The mechanic came for the second time today to try to fix the problem, without any success. Someone is coming to replace the whole thing tomorrow after 6:00, but we all have an appointment upstairs with a hot shower tonight just in case. Looking forward to it :)
For the past few days there has been a random cat coming in and out of my room and Martine’s apartment. Sakinah and I were sitting on my bed talking the other night and in walks this random cat. “Qu’est-ce que f***?! moment.” Martine really should close her windows. Her cat is nice, and I guess the random cougar-like one that frequents the apartment is too. Normally I like surprises, but I didn’t enjoy waking up to the random visitor on my bed the other day. It was strange. Of well…one of those quirky things I will remember about France. Sakinah, Katie, and I are still working on a name for our new “friend,” because he is currently christened, “Random cat.” I think he/she/it (?) deserves a better title.
Oh! Monday night around midnight, something really scary happened. I was getting ready to go to bed when I heard screaming downstairs in the lobby. Since our building doesn’t have air-conditioning (most houses in France don’t), my window was open so I could hear better. It sounded like two guys were downstairs whipping on each other, and in the meantime, a young woman was screaming bloody murder. I heard crashing glass, more screaming, fighting, yelling, and looked out my window to see a third guy banging on the apartment building and yelling to get let in. He buzzed everyone in the apartment for entry. Martine’s response: lock the door and call the police. Sakinah and Katie came running into my room to peer out my window and watch the whole thing. We had front row seats. Everyone in the street stopped to watch and ask, “Ça va?” Granted, we don’t live in the ghetto or anything. We live in a really good area of town: right next to the Palais des Papes, and St. Pierre’s Eglise is two steps outside our door. We’re in prime tourist corner.
It was really frightening, and the screaming continued. We watched in s stupefied state, wondering what on earth was going to happen. I started getting really nervous when somebody let the guy in the baseball cap banging at the door inside. I thought he was trying to get involved, but in all reality, he was trying to stop the fight. If I would have known that, I would have told Martine to let him in, but it’s better to be safe than sorry, and how would somebody really know that? When the door flung open (all of this is happening directly below us…remember…we are on the 4th floor), two yelling guys COVERED in blood came rushing out, with a screaming young woman flailing her arms trailing behind. One guy had a belt in his hands as his pants were sagged to the ground. Thankfully, it didn’t look like the woman had been hurt. The police came and shooed them all away. It was so scary. I’d never seen anything like it before. There was no way I was sleeping that night…
When we walked downstairs the next day, our hallway looked like a crime scene: blood on the walls and broken glass everywhere. All I can do is hope and pray that nothing else happens
I can see clearly now
May 24, 2009Our attempt to get up and watch the sunrise this morning was a fail. By the time we got up, which was around 6ish, the sun was already up. But, alas, the mysteriously missing beach: right where it was supposed to be! After sleeping some more, we packed our bags, checked out, went to a bakery, and walked: to the St. Pierre Eglise, to the beach, all around town. It was so relaxing. What a calm before the storm. Today was the travel day from hell! I don’t think I have ever experienced a seemingly longer day of travel in my life!
It all began when we arrived at the train station in Granville. First, we couldn’t find out where our train was leaving from or our voiture numbers. It was really hot outside and we were getting tired waiting for our train to arrive. In addition, it was late. When it finally arrived, I boarded happily, journal and Cesar in hand, ready to finish all my homework I hadn’t done over the weekend. Well, at least I had good intentions.
About halfway through the three hour train ride, the air conditioning stopped working. OH MY GOD!!! The train was completely full, and some people were standing in the aisles. I thought I was going to die of heat stroke! If we hadn’t had been in pubic, I would not have hesitated to rip my clothes off right then and there. That’s how hot it was. I was running out of water, sweating in places I didn’t even know you could sweat, and getting headachy and irritated very quickly. I was worried somebody would faint. I wanted nothing more than to get off that train. People around me were dripping in sweat and babies started crying. It was absolutely miserable. To top things off, I had to go to the bathroom. Of course, the bathroom didn’t flush, and the sink didn’t work, but I sucked it up and went anyway. Thankfully, while I was waiting in line, I spotted complimentary bottles of water. I grabbed a stash of those. I would have poured the whole case all over me if there hadn’t been anyone else around. Again, that’s how hot it was.
When we finally, finally, finally, arrived in Paris, everyone jumped out of their seats, eager to get the heck out of there asap! Thankfully, we had vouchers waiting for us when we stepped off, so I think I may at least get a free train ride out of my trajet in oven-like conditions.
We ran to the metro to make our next train, since this one had been late, under what seemed like the whole city to finally get to the right station. When we arrived at the Gare de Lyon, I didn’t hesitate to put down 3 Euros (a ridiculous theme-park like price) for a bottle of water or pay 50 centimes to use the restroom. At this point, I just stopped caring. I couldn’t care if I tried.
Oh, the day was not over yet. The night was young my friend…so our next train was 2 hours late as well. What was up with France today? This was getting ridiculous. Thankfully, this meant that we had time to cool off before boarding the TGV back to Avignon.
Finally the TGV arrived, and had working air! Hallelujah! But, I was in a different voiture than the others, so I took my assigned seat next to a man who smelled like cheese with a crying baby in his arms. This was just not my day.
I didn’t sleep a wink during the 3 hour ride (it was longer, because there were complications…luck was not exactly on my side, was it?).
After what seemed like years later, we pulled into the Avignon TGV, nearing midnight, only to discover that the line for the taxis was too long, so we had to wait for the Navette to the Gare Centre just outside the ramparts. We waited for another 30 minutes to get on, and another 20 after that to finally get moving. I wanted my bed so badly. When we arrived at the gare, feeling nauseous, I slug my backpack over my shoulder and began to make my 10 minute walk home. New longest day of my life.
Even though we had all these complications, I wouldn’t trade this day for anything. There is always good that comes out of every bad situation. Sometimes you just have to look hard enough to find it. I’ve said it once, but I’ll say it a thousand times more, everything is a learning experience. When I come home, I know I am going to be more patient. I would like to think that I have changed over here for the better (I’ve had people on the trip tell me so). But in reality, we all have. We’ve all changed or improved something about ourselves and learned to look at things from a different perspective. That’s one of the many countless joys of studying abroad! Not only do you have a blast while learning about another language and culture, you learn things about yourself as well. Thank you, God, Mom, Dad, Christophe, everyone, for this life-changing experience!
If you are even thinking of studying abroad, I have one word of advice for you: GO!
You won’t regret it.
J'adore Dior et quelquechose comme ca
Mt. St. MichelMay 23, 2009
Well, finally, what I have been waiting for: Mt. St. Michel! I had been dying to go here ever since I opened up my French book my first day of French class sophomore year of high school and saw the impressive city on the mountain. Who would have thought I’d be there a few years later and living in France for three months? Life is funny like that. Never ceases to surprise and amaze me. It just goes to show you, you never know what’s coming around the bend!
This morning we took a train to the gare near Mt. St. Michel, which turned out to be a Podunk, sketchy station in the middle of absolutely nowhere. One would have thought that for such a major sight, such as Mt. St. Michel, there would have been a grand gare with lots of tourist traps, and of course, lots of tourists. This was not the case. For such a big hot spot, there was hardly anyone there. When we took the 2 euro shuttle to the city on the hill, I discovered why. Since the Mt. was literally out in the middle of nowhere and built on quick sand, there was nothing for miles. Most people came here by shuttle buses, but unlike us, most didn’t arrive at the station.
The Mount was more breathtaking in person then in photos, like most places. What amazes me is who came up with the idea to build an entire city, complete with a magnificent monastery and abbey, on a hill in the middle of quicksand? We really need to give those Middle Ages architects more credit. The plans that went to constructing something as grand as Mt. St. Michel must have been truly ingenious.
In person, the mount had a haunting feeling about it due to the gloomy weather and the grim, dark-ages architecture.
We were very lucky, because when we walked into the abbey, there was a mass going on. The monks were seated alongside the priest, chanting a haunting song in Latin. It was really chilling and eerie, but in a cool way. Unfortunately, we weren’t allowed to take pictures, so I will just have to remember this. Trust me; I don’t think I am going to forget.
After touring the abbey, we decided to walk around town, which was tourist-trap central. Since we had to check out of our hotel in Bayeux that morning, we all had backpacks on, because we had nowhere to store our stuff. Yes, we climbed and toured Mt. St. Michel with fully-loaded backpacks. I really roughed it this weekend, and embraced the whole back-packing through Europe thing. It was empowering, but exhausting and irritating when trying to maneuver your way through tourist-filled corners. The streets were narrow, slanted, and wet from the rain. If only I had a Euro for every time I bumped into somebody.
Wanting nothing more to sit down, we chose the first restaurant with available seating and seemingly reasonable prices. This happened to be a place where the servers were rude (they counted our napkins) and told us that in order to get just a small sandwich, we had to order other things as well. Welcome to tourist traps: 101. Read the menu’s fine print and signs carefully. We ended up paying more for our sandwiches and Normandy’s famous fermented cider than if we would have bought something decent. You live, you learn…In spite of the over crowdedness and dreary weather, Mt. St. Michel was amazing, and like most places I have visited in France, I would like to return one day.
Our next stop was Granville: the hometown of famous fashion designer and creator of my favorite scent (Miss Cherie, Dior), Mr. Christian Dior himself. To be honest, we really knew nothing about Granville besides the fact that it was the home of Christian Dior and that it was ocean-front before going there. Not expecting much besides to relax and enjoy our last day, we were pleasantly surprised when we arrived in Granville and discovered that there was loads to do! What’s more, is that our hostel was located alongside the ocean and had an amazing view.
We also learned a valuable lesson on our way to our rooms. A group of creepy and most likely desperate European boys asked us if we were from Paris, which honestly, was really flattering, but Rachel, without thinking, said, “No, America.” Big no, no to say to creepy European boys. They automatically turn-on overtly-friendly mode after you tell them this. Just save yourself some harassment and say England or someplace else.
We decided to go looking for the beach, which was mysteriously MIA. It turns out that it was high tide, and since it was almost a new moon, the beach was under the water. Searching the town for the supposed beach, we walked along the boardwalk after stopping to buy, yes, more kebabs and enjoy the nice view of the Atlantic and the Casino in town. Granville is, after all, also known as the Monaco of the North. Big spenders come here.
Our after dinner walk took us to the home, museum, and public gardens of none other than Christian Dior. What luck! Funny how you can find things when you aren’t even looking for them. The garden and house where oceanfront and gorgeous. All around the garden there were little plaques of his fashions and fragrances over the years. You can lift up the silver lids on the plaques and smell the scent of Christian Dior throughout the ages. Pretty nifty, huh? Sure beats perfume testing at the mall.
The Ultimate Sacrifice
May 22, 2009June 6th is the anniversary of D-Day. I have always wanted to visit the beaches of the embarquement (D-Day) after learning about them in history class, so I was super excited to take a D-Day bus tour today. Our guide David drove us, two sisters on vacation, and an older couple around in a van from 8:30 to 6 to and from the famous sights having to do with D-Day and WW2. I think it is so amazing how things have so much more meaning to you once you have learned about them…and then you get to visit the place where the events actually took place! It really brings history to life.
Our first stop was St. Mere Eglise, where some American paratroopers landed (and even clung to the side of the bell tower…there is a replica paratrooper still hanging there today). Amazingly, most of the church remained intact during the war, minus a few stained glass windows, which were replaced to house new ones with paratroopers and war-like symbols and sayings, such as “Ils sont revenus” (they have come back). Also in town was the US Air Museum where we watched a film in French, strangely enough with German subtitles. It was almost funny to see the Americans’ (there were lots of them) reactions to the film, “It’s in French?!” It really didn’t make sense, being an American museum and all, but I was so excited: I wanted to stand up and shout, “Je peux le comprendre!!!” (I can understand it).
It is really a remarkable experience being able to understand a second language. I have noticed something lately which has kind of freaked me out, yet been amazing at the same time. I have started dreaming and thinking in French. Also, when someone asks me a question, I can’t remember if they asked it in French or in English. It is so odd. My brain just translates it for me, and I subconsciously respond in the correct language. It is an odd phenomenon. Also, my franglais is getting more and more frequent. At OU in the fall, don’t be surprised if random French words creep into my conversation, and I don’t even realize what I said. I am definitely going to bisous everyone too…just saying :) XXX (trios pour Provence!)
We then went to the German cemetery, where I was overwhelmed by the amount of unidentified soldiers. It was really sad. I can’t imagine what those families whose sons, brothers, and husbands were never found would feel. I think not knowing what happened would be worse than finding out that they died. It was really somber and moving, yet, en meme temps, the cemetery was beautiful and very peaceful. Most are.
Before this, we made a stop at the Pont du Hoc near Utah Beach to see the battle field and bunkers. I could not believe the size of the guns and holes in the ground! The whole strategy of war is really fascinating to me in a weird way. How does one decide where and when to attack? What are the thought processes that go along with this? It is all a big game. Unfortunately, with huge stakes on the line: a matter of life and death.
Utah Beach was breathtaking. There was still a model gun and barbed wire in the sand. Seeing the place where countless men lost their lives in battle was haunting. You really start to look at things differently when you are standing in a place with so much meaning for so many people around the world.
The other famous site was Omaha beach, and it was low tide. The depth and width of the beach was mindboggling. It was huge!! The stretches of sand seemed to extend for miles into the horizon. The ironic thing is that the soldiers weren’t even planning on landing here. The current drifted them to the wrong spot. Comforting how God always seems to work things out, because this turned out to be a more ideal location.
Our last stop before heading to the German occupied bunkers was the American cemetery, where we were technically on US soil. Pretty cool how you can be on land “owned” by your homeland, when you are thousands of miles across the sea. The cemetery was impressive. Yet, again and sadly, there were countless unknown soldiers who were laid to rest on the shores of Normandy. I found it interesting how American soldiers had two options for headstones: a cross or a Star of David. Every now and then, one would spot a Jewish soldier amongst the sea of crucifixes. It was really somber, yet the view of the sea and the lush earth made this resting place a beautiful spot for those who paid the ultimate sacrifice. May they forever rest in peace. Teddy Roosevelt’s son is buried here, as well as the brothers who the movie “Saving Private Ryan” is based off of.
What a great, yet very long and tiring day! We went back to our tavern of a hotel to do some shopping in town before all of the stores closed. Conveniently located next door was what Jenny refers to as “the TJ MAXX” of France. While browsing in a shop down the street, we found the pear liquor bottled by Lance’s host dad in the store! He was explaining so us the concept the other night and quite frankly, we all thought he was bs-ing us, but there it was: a bottle of liquor with a pear on the inside! Apparently, he puts the bottle on the tree branch and lets the pear grow inside the bottle before putting in the liquor. Creative, huh? This stuff was not cheap either: around 50-something euro per bottle. I’d say he has a nice little business going for him. J
For dinner, we got some kebabs, classic and cheap, before revisiting our new favorite place: the bakery attached to our hotel. We bought glazed fruit tarts as well as tiny Calvert liquor-filled candy apples. We bit into them unknowingly…what a surprise when apple-flavored liquor came pouring out the center! They were so good and not badly priced either. French bakeries never fail to amaze me. In the store, they had all the traditional favorites such as: pain au chocolat, pain au lait, croissants, pepitos, marmalades, macaroons, baguettes, tartes, and…animal-shaped bread! There were molded bread pigs and dogs. It was so hilarious that I had to take a picture! Check it out:
Faites Attention: Speak in English, Please
Normandy day 1May 21, 2009
Well, time to take a trip up north! It was a holiday weekend in France for the jour of the ascension, so since we didn’t have class on Thursday, Shawna, Jenny, and Rachel, and I decided to be very French and “faire la pointe.” In other words, if you have a day off towards the end of the week, like Thursday, for example, like we did, you just take the rest of the week of until the start of the next one and extend your vacation. I love French people. They know how to vaca.
I was tired, because I had been out the night before, even though I intended on getting some sleep before my early morning train ride. Of course, my plans usually fall through here, so that didn’t end up happening. I’ve just learned to go with the flow, expect surprises, and just stop planning things. Plans always change anyway. Now, I go out with an idea about what I want to do, but usually things just happen. As Sakinah put it nicely last night, “How on earth do we keep getting into the weirdest stuff/situations?” To be honest, I don’t know. It’s not planned, but it’s awesome how things just happen and nights fall into place! For example, we met a guy from Ireland the other night and made some friends from Australia. We usually don’t end up in the places we are planning on going, or we end up meeting new people and going someplace new. Life comes at you fast. Go with the flow…
Anyway, I woke up early, which is a miracle, because my alarm clock has not been working. Thank you, God! I would have missed my train if I hadn’t have woken up naturally. I was running late, so I hurried to catch a ride to Paris with the others. Since I had waited to buy my ticket, I had to sit in a different compartment across from people I didn’t know, which I really didn’t mind. Another thing I have learned in France: how to sleep/ take naps while traveling. I used to never be able to nap on planes, buses, or anything before coming here. I just hope I get some sleep on the ride home…that will be the real test!
Oh, when riding the trains in France, always make sure to have your discount cart 12-25 with you if you used it to buy your ticket. Our tickets and cards got checked twice on the trains today. Before, this had never happened…maybe once, but I really can’t remember to be honest. Shawna unfortunately left hers at home, so she had to pay a fee and get a replacement card when we arrived in Bayeux. Make sure to travel with it! Also, have at least one person in your group bring their passport, even if you are staying within in the European country. Most hostels will want to see someone’s if you are from the US.
We had to switch trains in Paris, so since we had an hour to kill, we decided to explore the city and get some Starbucks (I’m kind of suffering withdrawal) before boarding our second train to Bayeux.
On the train, I saw countless sheep and lots and lots of cows through the windows. Sadly, I didn’t get a good shot of any of the many sheep we passed by, but I could make a whole facebook album with all of the cow pictures I got. I kept seeing these yellow flowers in the fields, thinking they were some wild flower that grows in Normandy. It turns out that they are mustard plants. Learn something new every day.
Every time I go somewhere new in France, I am always shocked by how different one city is from another. Not to sound cheesy or repetitive, but France is a very varied country. You can find just about every single type of climate here. You’ve got the mountains, the Mediterranean, desert-like areas, frigid, temperate, warm climates, and everything in-between. France has a little bit of everything. Bayeux was familiar to me from my senior year Brit Lit days. I love all of the history surrounding William the conqueror and the early days of the English and French settlement (I am a nerd :)), so I loved the British vibe the town had…it was occupied by England after all.
Our first stop was to see the famous Bayeux tapestry that was sewn in the middle Ages, depicting the story of William the Conqueror and the Battle of Hastings. I was astonished by how long it was! The tapestry was set behind glass, and even though it was centuries old, it was absolutely incredible! All of the detail was still intact. The long work wrapped around two large rooms and told the seemingly never-ending story of the battle and the town’s settlement. Wow. I love, love, love European history! I am such a geek. I think this was one of my favorite things I saw during my whole stay in Normandy.
Our next stop was the Notre Dame of Bayeux. Before coming here, I didn’t know that there was more than one Notre Dame. I just assumed that Notre Dame was the famous church in Paris, but apparently, there is more than one. The French love to complicate things like this; the more complex, the better. The church was stunning, and is undoubtedly the most beautiful church I have been in during my stay in Europe. The funny thing is that I thought that the inside of this church was prettier that the original “Notre Dame” in Paris.
Our hostel was something out of a storybook. The downstairs was a bar/tavern, so we could walk downstairs for drinks at night and coffee in the morning. In order to access our room, we had to take a little winding staircase, and our room was just adjacent to some of the steps. There was one room per “floor,” and all the rooms were tucked tidily away in the corners of the wall. It was so neat.
That night, we decided to go exploring in town. We found a tearoom called Anna’s Tearoom (I was very excited about this, because that is my sister’s name), where we drank tea English style Earl Grey with a little bit of milk. The woman who owned the cute café originated from England. The territory is close to the English Channel, and as I mentioned before, used to be occupied by England!
After this, we were hungry. Since most restaurants in France don’t open until late, the same for even ancient-owned British land, we had to walk around some more before dinner. It seemed to me that the only thing to eat in town was pizza and crepes, so we decided to go with the local fare and try it out. Gosh, why is pizza in Europe so much better? It is huge, thin crust, and the ingredients are all fresh and amazing. Dang it, you French people! Why does something so non-French like pizza even taste better here?
Another thing I love about France is the table red wine you can order at dinner. It is cheap and guaranteed to be good. We split a pitcher between the four of us for 12 Euros total and got around 2,5 full glasses, not bad, huh? Order table wine if you come to France if you are eating with a group, you’ll save money without sacrificing taste. The French NEVER serve low quality wine as table wine. This would be considered insulting and a grave sin. You can’t go wrong.
After we had stuffed ourselves to the max with wine and pizza, we decided to go all-out and splurge on some massive mound of luscious ice-cream dessert for all…even though we really weren’t that hungry. When in France, right? I seriously thought I was going to be sick after this, but it was so good. We all had to unbutton our pants and loosen our belt loops after this meal, I am unashamed to admit. So good, yet so bad at the same time.
We slowly waded our way back to the hotel, grabbing our aching stomachs the whole way. I couldn’t wait to take nice, hot shower (don’t have to conserve water here, it’s not our house :)), before crashing for bed.
Funny story: while trying to get some sleep, Shawna, in her dream-like state said, “Faites attention! Speak in English please!” and then rolled over and continued to have a mumbled conversation for a minute or so more. I thought I was going to burst out laughing! Why am I always the one next to the people doing weird things in their sleep? This one is going to the books.
This is my life
Fountaine de VaucluseMay 20, 2009
Today, we had an optional excursion to the Fountain de Vaucluse, so of course, I wanted to go! It’s a trip, and it’s paid for. Pourquoi pas? The village was near Avignon, so it didn’t take very long to get there by bus.
When we arrived, half of the group, my half, went to meet and talk with French people who worked for the Resistance during WW2. It was amazing to hear these people’s stories about the war, what they had done to help, and what they are doing now. They had truly seen it all and had incredible tales to tell. I was inspired by them. After our meeting, we got the chance to continue our conversation over lunch at a café alongside the river. I sat across from a little old woman (who downed her whole entire pizza… was very impressed), and two old gentleman and across from Meghan and Adam. They were full of quirky things to say and kept pouring us more and more wine. They were so much fun. Liked them a lot. Christophe was even kind enough to buy everyone’s lunch, drinks, and after lunch coffee. As if the lunch and stories weren’t good enough, one of the little old women needed to use the restroom, so she crawled under the table to escape…and did the same thing to get back to her seat! She was a spitfire!
After lunch, we went to the Resistance museum. Seeing all of the food stamps and war memorabilia was touching. Our visit was made even better by the personalized tour with commentary the woman who felt the need to crawl under the table gave throughout the exhibits. She was really entertaining and full of information you can’t get from reading a plaque in a museum. You could tell that the museum touched them and brought back memories from the past…the good, the bad, and the ugly. I saw the woman who sat across from me at lunch shed a tear.
After this, we had little time remaining to visit the fountain de vaucluse. This place was absolutely stunning. It didn’t even look real. The spring’s water was so blue that it looked like someone had poured watercolor into the bay. The reflection of the sun off the surface made the water crystal clear. I could see every fish and rock and the bottom of the river. Absolutely stunning.
Concluding note: I’m not going to lie; I am really, really, really getting attached over here. I don’t want to leave. I thought I would be ready, but I’m not. I think I may just have to resort to chaining myself to a pillar at Versailles on my last day in Paris. I’ll be just dandy, Merci.
After this, we had little time remaining to visit the fountain de vaucluse. This place was absolutely stunning. It didn’t even look real. The spring’s water was so blue that it looked like someone had poured watercolor into the bay. The reflection of the sun off the surface made the water crystal clear. I could see every fish and rock and the bottom of the river. Absolutely stunning.
Concluding note: I’m not going to lie; I am really, really, really getting attached over here. I don’t want to leave. I thought I would be ready, but I’m not. I think I may just have to resort to chaining myself to a pillar at Versailles on my last day in Paris. I’ll be just dandy, Merci.
Vivre, c'est apprendre
Usèz and the Pont du GareMay 16, 2009
Wow. Again, I am really, really slacking about writing in my blog. You know how things get. You can get busy or get distracted thinking about and doing a billion things at once. Well, here it is: My rundown of my last two weeks in France:
Today, we had another great excursion. Sadly, this is the last one before our grand finale in Marseille this weekend. On the agenda: canoeing to the Pont du Gare, a big Roman aqueduct which stretches the bay near a little Village called Usèz. Sounds pretty cool, huh?
In the morning, we stopped the bus for some walking around in town. Since it was Saturday, the traditional French markets were open. I am really glad that I did not bring any money with me, because I know that I would have spent every last centime. I am getting really bad about that. I need to limit how much I withdraw from the ATM from now on. The market was filled with gourmet food, clothes and anything and everything in-between. My favorite knick-knack was the colorful hugging figurines that seem to be very popular in France. I am not exactly sure what their purpose is, besides looking cute and adorning countertops, but I know that I want to buy some before I leave. They’re just too adorable and unique to pass up!
One of the best things about these open-air markets is free samples. Sakinah, John, and I basically manged (franglais for ate or nibbled) our way around the crowded outdoor market. If you made the rounds a couple of times, you wouldn’t even need to buy lunch. It was really nice. One thing we tried that we all really liked was dried strawberries. Since neither Skainah nor I brought any money along with us, we had to wait until we got back to Avignon to buy them, which meant that they were more expensive, but hey, you get what you pay for. We’ll know for next time.
After our visit in town, the bus dropped us off by the launching point for the canoes. We had lunch by the bay before setting off on our three mile journey downstream to the point. Sakinah and I, being the pro rowers that we are, spent most of the trip taking pictures of the scenery. Team China, Kyle, Sakinah, and my clever name for our three person boat, started off with some issues. We ran into the bank three or four times before finally getting the hang of canoeing. Since Sakinah and I we both rookies, it took awhile to get the “rhythm” and methods of steering down, but once we finally got it together (by this time the ride was almost over), there was no stopping us. Poor Kyle. The highlight of my day was when we maneuvered our boat through two narrow tree branches in the water. Ten points for Team China.
Once we arrived at the Pont du Gare, we stopped to sun ourselves, swim (for the smart people who wore their swimsuits), and take photos. It was a blast! I definitely want to go canoeing more often when I get home…now that I know how.
Sociology experiment of the day: throw a bunch of college students together who are “of age” and add alcohol and the sun= problems. The day ended with a scary lecture from our director, an argument on the bus, a trip to the police station, and the most frighteningly silent bus ride back to Avignon. Scared that two of our peers would get sent home was a wakeup call for everyone. Contrary to popular belief, study abroad does not equal party abroad. It’s sad that it takes a serious situation such as this to wake everyone up and cause us all to pay more attention to our actions. But sometimes you need to turn on a bright overhead light to wake up instead of naturally rising to your circadian rhythms to get the message across. Desperate times call for desperate measures. Yet, this was a learning experience for everyone. Everyone makes mistakes, and no one is perfect. All one can do is learn from their past and figure out how to do things better the next time. Life is a big learning experience, and if you never made mistakes, how would you ever learn anything? You grow from your mistakes. Forget the past, but first stop and figure out what you can learn from it, and strain toward what is ahead…I am finally starting to take my own advice on this issue. It took long enough. Forgetting what is behind me, and straining towards what is ahead…
After our eye-opening wakeup call of an afternoon, Sakinah, Kyle, Adam, and I decided to go to La Nuit des Musées in town – a special night when all of the museums are free until midnight, complete with an open bar. We visited three museums in town that would have normally cost us a pretty penny for an entrance fee. On our walk over to the Musée Calvert, I saw this chic-looking night club that was adorned with red and white flashing lights. It looked like a snazzy place, and even though we felt underdressed, we decided to check it out…I am glad that we did. This was undoubtedly the coolest club I had ever been! It looked like something out of a hot LA nightclub scene in a Hollywood film…not a night lounge in the middle of a University town in Provence…yet it was. Even the bathroom was cool. The stalls were lined with mirrors and neon lights and everything was decorated in an art nouveau/modern theme. It was so cool. I can’t wait to return!
So, we have made a game out of spotting Katy and Christophe, our directors, in town. It’s almost like a celebrity sighting. We all get so excited to see them outside the classroom. Kind of lame, I know, but it amuses us. They were both at the club that night, and Sakinah walked up a bisous-d them! Not wanting to stand there and look awkward, I followed. It wasn’t inappropriate in any way shape or form, because we pretty much bisous everyone, but it was awkward still. Oh well, at least they know that we think of them as friends, yet still authority figures. They are a really cool couple with a neat story. To anyone coming to Avignon next year, take the time to get to know and talk with them. You will love them! Bisous (why not?) XXX
