Adventure

Well, I have some stories.

This week is our "winter break," so I have been doing a few things. We ended up not going to Belgium; I found out too late how to get cheaper tickets. Next time, I suppose. Instead, we had some other adventures. On Sunday, we took a train to Saint-Malo so that we could see one of our favorite musicians play a free show in an old church. Since it was a Sunday, the buses weren't really running, so we just walked everywhere we needed to go (isn't it funny how I would probably never do this in the U.S.?) Fortunately it was a nice day (for once), and Saint-Malo is very beautiful (on the coast, medieval buildings and cobblestone streets). We walked to the quarter where the show was going to be and decided to find the church so that we would know later where to go (the show was supposedly at 8). Well, when we got to the church, we heard his voice (the singer, called The Tallest Man on Earth. Look him up, he is just incredible) coming from inside. There were two guys standing outside, and they said "you can go in, it's free." We were confused, but we went into the church, and there he was, in a room full of people, playing a song. It was, of course, the last song. We had missed the show; the time had been wrong on the website. We were standing in disbelief (horror, really) at what we had missed, and we saw him walk outside to smoke a cigarette. We decided we might as well go talk to him, even though we didn't get to hear him play. So we did, and we told him that we had come all the way from Rennes for no other reason than to see the show, and that we'd missed it, etc. He said he was sorry, that really sucks, etc. We talked to him for a little while more, and then he was like "well, I mean, I'm beat, but....can I like, play you a song or something? Would that help?"
What do you think our answer was?
So we followed him back into the church into a secret door up a tiny winding staircase into a tiny room in a tower of the church. There was a bed, piles of clothes, plates of sugared gummy candy (French hospitality) and exactly three chairs. So long story short(er), he played my favorite song, and it was incredible. What a great guy. I think also he was relieved to find some people who speak English (he's from Sweden, but his songs are in English). We even translated for him a few times. Afterward, we spent the rest of the day (and the next several days) not believing that that could have possibly happened. Oh, but it did. And the whole trip was absolutely 100% worth it.

The next day, we left for Paris. I spent the past few days in Paris, seeing a few things, going to museums, but mostly just hanging out and enjoying the city. I have yet to see Paris in nice weather, unfortunately. I think the sun came out for about 10 minutes the whole time we were there. Oh well. Someday. Fortunately, Paris is still beautiful, even in the grossest weather. There was a moment when we were in the Louvre, the sun came out, and we decided to go up on the roof. Well, literally two seconds after we got up there, it started pouring. Like, a monsoon on top of the Louvre. CHAOS. But speaking of museums, I discovered that I can get into most of the museums in Paris for free because I am technically a student resident of the European Union. Sweet deal, right? The Louvre, I found, is very enormous (people are not kidding when they say how huge it is...it is seriously the size of a small city), very crowded, and full of old stuff. It great, don't get me wrong, but I think I've had my fill for a while. The ancient Egyptian art was especially great. Honestly, I preferred Musee d'Orsay, which was fantastic and in which I did not spend nearly enough time. Why do people take pictures of paintings? It's so weird, everyone is always crowded around the Mona Lisa or something, taking pictures of it. I don't get it.

One of the fun things about Paris was meeting random people. Two of our friends from our program were staying in Paris also, so we hung out with them for a couple of days. They were staying at a really cool hostel in a room with four other people. So we met people from all over, which was awesome. That is the great thing about youth hostels; they are so full of random people from everywhere who just want to see things. Scottie and I met a woman from Spain at our hostel, and we were talking with her about languages. She speaks Spanish, Catalan, English, and French. Her husband is French, so they speak French together. He also speaks Arabic. So their kids speak Spanish, Catalan, English, French, and Arabic. And that is pretty typical. She told me that English is their favorite language to speak. I wish I had a favorite language. Jeez. She turned to us and was like "so how many languages do you speak?" and was astonished to find that I only speak two. Shame, shame, shame America.
Possibly my favorite moment in Paris was right at the end of my visit. When I was on my way to the train station, there was an entire orchestra playing a song in the metro. I mean, there are a lot of metro musicians; I saw some pretty great ones. Accordion players, cellists, acoustic guitar guys, etc. But a whole ensemble of stringed instruments...that I had not seen. And the metro has really good acoustics, if you were wondering.

Interestingly enough, it feels good to be back home in Rennes. It is less stressful, less expensive, and the metro doesn't smell like urine. Can I insert that I am so proud of Scottie and myself for not getting lost once. We are well on our way to being expert travellers. Also I can't wait to sleep in my bed tonight. We crashed on the floor of a semi-distant acquaintance of Scottie's who is studying in Paris. We are friends now. Hehe. But, you know, I haven't brushed my hair in like five days, and my feet are feeling the miles and miles I must have trekked since Sunday. Paris is truly lovely, but I am thankful for my little medieval city in La Bretagne.

It's hard to live in Europe when you don't have any money

Well, the title says it all. Turns out Europe is expensive. Surprise!
My February break is next week, and I still don't have solid plans. I think that Scottie and I are going to go to Belgium. It's really not very far from here at all. The thing is, train tickets are just so expensive. So are hostels. So is food, including all of the chocolate I'm going to want to eat. Man. I also have to consider that my spring break is going to require some serious cash as well, so I've got to reserve a lot for that. Oh goodness. I'm bad at this whole traveling thing.

Yesterday, I met my host mom's sister and mother, who is like 90. She was very cute, and kept calling me "une petite" even though the rest of the family assured her that I am not "une petite" because I am 20 years old. But I suppose I am compared to her. My host mom's sister was very impressed that I could understand what she was saying. She said, "you can understand even when I talk fast?" and I nodded, so after that I think she decided it was a good idea to speak as fast as possible to test my comprehension skills. The whole family came over for lunch (I guess because it was Valentine's Day? Who knows? Also Sunday lunches are always big family meals). It was really nice. It felt kind of like Thanksgiving except smaller and with champagne. I even made an apple pie. When Jennifer saw it, she said "Ohhh it's a real American apple pie, like in the movies!" because I had made a lattice with the crust.

Apologies for the lack of photos recently. I have been negligent about taking them. It's not that the novelty has worn off, it's just that I don't feel like a tourist here anymore. I am actually starting to feel at home. In the morning, when I am walking to the bus stop, I think to myself, "oh yeah....this IS my city..."
And I like living in France. It has even been relatively sunny lately, which is a miracle.

le gastro

That title goes out to my mom because she thought it would be funny. Le gastro, if you don't know, is the horrible thing that y'all in the U.S. call the stomach flu. Well guess who was lucky enough to get the French stomach flu....

So that would explain why I have had nothing to say on my blog for the past several days; before yesterday I had seen nothing but the four walls of my bedroom for like 3 days. Hoo-rah.

But! I have since then mostly recovered and have ventured to the outside world, which I found to be very very cold and, this morning, snowy. I walked outside my house into a blizzardy version of Rennes that I don't think is seen very often. Of course, seeing as it rarely snows here, no one knows what to do about it. No snow plows, no salting people, nothing. So everyone is just sliding around, and the buses may or may not come, depending.

Today I had a block of free time during which I wasn't sure if I wanted to go home, so I did some wandering and ran a few errands. It was really nice to walk around the city by myself and realize that I actually knew where I was going. Also, I went to the yarn store, and no one knew that I was American. At least, if they did, they didn't let on that they did. The thing is, usually when people here realize that you're American, they will start attempting to speak English to you (not something that always goes well). And no one did that today. Nope.

Freezing Waves and Ancient Stones

Yesterday we went to St. Malo and Mont St. Michel, and it feels strange to be back in the real world. It feels even stranger that the real world is a city in France.

The trip was really incredible. We began at St. Malo, which is about an hour from here. It's a charming, ancient, seaside town that actually reminded me a lot of home. A few of my friends and I headed immediately for the beach, as we all had longings for closeness with the ocean. It was a gray, freezing day, but we managed to ignore the unforgiving winds and frolic along the rocky coastline with abandon. We found (and by found I mean it was too large to ignore) a huge, ancient-looking building on a little island connected to the shore by some rocks. What was it? Who knows. We decided against exploring it for fear of getting stuck out there by the tide. It's so funny to think that it was probably like, a thousand years old, but it's really no big deal.

After wandering the streets of St. Malo for a bit and realizing we were hungry, we passed by an open restaurant-type place, and as we were staring at the menu, Brice informed us that here he once ate the best beignet he's ever had. Sold! I ordered a nutella-filled beignet that was literally the size of my face. My friend Tina, who got the same thing, looked at me after the first bite and said, "this was a good life decision." Couldn't agree with her more.

After St. Malo, we headed to Mont St. Michel. We drove through Cancale, which is a lovely town, and the road we were on was right next to the coastline. It was such a beautiful drive. On the right was the ocean, and on the left were green fields and charming old houses. We got to Mont St. Michel, which suddenly appeared on the horizon as this huge, looming, castle-looking thing on an island in the middle of nowhere. It's actually a monastery, not a castle. We climbed all the way to the top, a feat that was easy for me, but that I realized would never go over well at a tourist attraction in the U.S. They would probably add an escalator or something.

The view was incredible! At the top we were given head-set things that talked to us about the history of the place and whatnot. It was sort of interesting, but I gave up halfway listening through because what I was seeing with my eyes was keeping my attention much better than the British man inside my headset. I feel like what they should really give you is a headset that plays monastic chants or something while you're wandering around the abbey.

Pictures will really describe better than words. So look at them. Daniel told me that Mont St. Michel is the second most visited site in France, after the Eiffel Tower. Crazy, right? Well, now I understand why. I'd love to go back when it's warmer, though there will probably be more people.

Now that I'm back in the real world, I've got to do my homework and whatnot. The unfortunate catch of being in France...schoolwork. Oh well.

Voilà Quoi

I think I can say that it has been a good week. Long, but good nonetheless. I have now been to all of my classes at least once, and, for the most part, I think I am going to like them. Except that grammar class, of course.

On Wednesday night I went ice skating with some people, which I had not done since I was like 8 years old. We had to take a bus out to the edge of town, and accompanying us at the bus stop were a few people with ice skates in their hands. Apparently Wednesday night is when you go ice skating. Who knew? When we got there, most of us realized that we were terrified, and as we were lacing up, we were all thinking "oh gosh, what have I gotten myself into...."
But it turned out to be a really fun time, and I though I was no graceful swan on the ice, I managed not to fall, and that, my friends, is a miracle.

You know how when you are walking down the street and you hear people speaking in a foreign language, your ears perk up because it sounds strange and interesting? Well, today I realized that I now react that way when I hear people speaking English (not very often). Today I was walking to class, heard someone speaking English, did a double-take, and realized it was one of my classmates at CIREFE. Weird, right?

Today I had lunch/spent the afternoon with Scottie and two of our new friends, who are French, and it was really great to speak French all day without giving up and resorting to English. Because, let's face it: none of us actually speak French 24 hours a day. Some of us are more motivated than others and make an effort, but it becomes difficult when we are all tired and the English train gets rolling. I mean, it is frustrating to not be able to express yourself the way you want to, but you just have to make do. I marvel at the fact that I am rarely laughed at when I speak French...I must be surrounded by French angels. The only times that I have caused people to chuckle were when I have used familiar words or expressions...my friend explained to me that it sounds strange for foreigners to do so. It's unfortunate because that is how I thought I could sound more like a native...

Tomorrow I am going on an excursion to St. Malo and Mont St. Michel. I'm really excited!!! Atlantic Ocean, here I come...

sometimes a little whipped cream can make all the difference

Well. I have been in France for three weeks now. Crazy! Can I still say I just got here? That's how I feel at least.

I've actually been settling in more each day. It's really little things that help: bonding with other CIREFE students, finally finding my homeward bus stop at Ste. Anne, buying yarn and needles for knitting, finding a coffee shop that has real-sized coffees, etc. Speaking of which, the place where we found real-sized coffees is called Le Haricot Rouge, which means the Red Bean. Incidentally, the coffee shop where I always hang out in Greensboro is called the Green Bean. I love it when things like that happen. Le Haricot Rouge is going to be a problem though, I can tell. The coffee is delicious, it has a nice atmosphere, and it's right in the middle of town. Today I went there and sat around with friends for like two hours, and it was really nice. Afterward, I realized how very French it was of me to do so. Hehe.

On Sunday afternoon, my host parents invited me to come with them to their friends' house for "un petit blanc," that is to say, a few drinks before lunch. So I went with them to the edge of town, and their friends were very pleasant, and it was everyone from the grandmother to the newest baby. One of them asked me what Americans usually drink as an "apéritif" and I tried to explain that it's not particularly habitual to drink before meals in the U.S. except on special occasions. They didn't get it. I found that I kept up with the conversation pretty easily, which is a wonder considering the French like to talk loudly over each other about things like politics and religion (which they did, of course). I'm perfectly happy just listening...It only gets nerve-wracking when they ask MY opinion. Uhhhhhhh....

Today I got home later than usual to find my host mom busy making crêpes. She told me that it's a holiday, so we have to eat crêpes for dinner. I asked her what kind of holiday, and she could tell me nothing except that it is some kind of Breton holiday, maybe religious, but that crêpes and cider are essential. I then attempted to explain Groundhog Day (which is also today), and you can just imagine how well that went...
So we ate crêpes for dinner. With nutella and butter/sugar and strawberry jam. My host mom got out the peanut butter that she bought especially for me as if to dare me to put it in one. I decided to take up the dare, and everyone was thoroughly disgusted. Except me, of course. I cannot believe how much sugar I have consumed in the past few hours...

Classes are going pretty well, except for the horrid grammar class I had today. It's the only class I've had so far in which I've felt completely lost. It is geared towards people who have been here for at least a semester already (NOT me). However, I was talking to a girl who actually was here last semester, and she told me she was a bit lost as well, which made me feel a little better. I'm not sure what to do...I guess tough it out? We'll see.

Tomorrow night I am going ice skating with some friends. Excited! I don't think I've been ice skating since I was like 10. Brice asked me if I was any good at it, and I said no, to which he said "good!" and gave me a high five. At least I won't be the only one who looks like an idiot.