the times they are a-changin’

It’s been a while since I have posted and I’ll admit it sometimes seems like an ominous task so I may have been avoiding it a little bit. I am not going to go into a ton of details about my spring break trip (right now), but I will highlight a few parts of it.

Nice: Carnaval

Starting in Nice, we got to wear masks and run through streets of confetti and silly string…what could be better? Our hostel was incredible. It had good, cheap food, little prince decorations, and a friendly group of New Zealanders for their staff. They also offered a shuttle service and gave us a lot of recommendations for what we could do with our weekend. We ended up going to Monaco for a day trip, which was incredible and makes you think you could not possibly live without a yacht as an adult. Our last venture in Nice

Citron Festival

was to a “Citron” festival, where there were massive monuments created solely out of oranges and lemons. It was amusing for about five minutes….then it was just strange and I wanted my ten euros back.

 

After Nice, I travelled alone for eight solid hours, switching between buses, trams, and trains until I finally got to the Swiss Alps. I have to say that Switzerland is by far the most incredible place I have ever been to, visually. As my train was weaving through the snow capped Alps, overlooking clear blue rivers, I was pretty positive I never wanted to leave. My host family’s chateau was absolutely adorable and I could not have asked for better treatment. Even though I have lived with them already for over two and a half months, they still treat me like I am the guest of honor all the time. I had two days of skiing lessons with a German instructor named Claude and can officially say, I am a terrible skier. Although I enjoyed having the opportunity to

view from the balcony

ski in the Alps, I ended up being totally freaked out by the idea of flying down a mountain at high speeds and the lessons involved a lot of me refusing to move until Claude shoved me down the slope… I also got to meet their two adorable grandchildren, who could not have been sweeter. We watched disney movies together in French and I finally understood what was going on(maybe because I already had the words memorized?). The food was incredible, as would be expected… We had cheese fondue with potatoes and then different wines and swiss chocolates every night plus delicious swiss hot chocolate on the slopes. Maybe I was just exhausted and freezing but their hot chocolate was by far the best I have ever had. It might be one of the few things I bring home with me on the plane because I know I will miss it.

 

After the Alps, I had a little bit shorter of a trip home to Lyon and immediately passed out for a solid three hour nap and then woke up to replace skiing clothes with normal outfits for London. Since I was flying, I had to pack less since you have to pay for every piece of baggage but Annie and I managed to stuff all of

london!!

our things into one suitcase and a backpack. We had an amazing time in London thanks to Annie’s friend who was studying there and took us out every night. The morning markets there were incredible, mostly because of the food. We got to have chipotle, pad thai, and delicious home-cooked meals made by Annie’s friend. I really wish Lyon would get on board with the market thing….our markets are mostly fruit and cheese… London’s had all different types of food plus really cool jewelry and clothing. We also got to go shopping in Top Shop and Anthro which don’t exist in Lyon so that was a nice treat. Overall, I was totally in love with London and wished I had more time there.

 

On Monday morning, we flew to Paris, where we met up with three of Annie’s guy friends from UVA, who had flown over for their spring break. It was a great group and we had a great time just wandering around Paris, with no real plan at all. We ended up sitting at Montmartre for a few hours just listening to people play music and put on shows for the crowds. While we were there, a group of men all dressed in black came up to the top of the hill, surrounding another person. It was clearly a group of body guards so we were all very curious to see who they were protecting. A mass of people hurried over and were taking pictures of this person but when we finally saw his face, none of us recognized him sadly. Later that night, we were sitting outside of Moulin Rouge and a bus pulled up in front of us with an ad

Montmartre!

for an upcoming film and that guy’s face was the main part of the ad! We had seen some sort of huge french celebrity but not been informed enough to realize it… Overall, Paris was a great time and much more relaxed than the last time we went there.

 

Since our train was going to be leaving so early on Wednesday morning for Amsterdam, we thought it would be a good idea to stay up until we left… I’m not sure who came up with that idea but it turned out to be insane and I fell asleep about thirty minutes before we were supposed to leave. Luckily it was a long ride so we were able to catch up on some sleep on the way there. At this point, I think my body was super confused about what day/time it was all the time. All the travelling had totally thrown off my sleep schedule because we basically just slept whenever we were on trains or planes and then would stay out late and wake up early, it was a rough time.

We got to Amsterdam a little before noon and made it to our hostel quickly. When we walked in, we were standing in the main entrance when I heard someone call my name and I looked up to see a group of Tridelts sitting at the bar in this hostel. Such a weird coincidence that we were all in Amsterdam and in the same hostel… There was a group of students who were

amsterdam

studying in Florence that took a trip together and were all staying there so we ended up just all going together to the Van Gogh museum, after visiting the infamous coffee shops. Of course while we were there, we walked through the red light district, which was as disturbing as it would seem. We also went to the Anne Frank house while we were there and then spent the rest of our time sleeping or binge eating. There were canals, lined with colorful boats, on every other street which made for a really charming atmosphere but I don’t think I could have spent much more time there. Great place to go for a weekend though.

 

After that we headed back to Paris on another long train ride. As would be expected, my body had decided that it had had enough of this weird sleeping schedule and overall brutality so I woke up that morning extremely sick. I felt awful the whole day and was so sad because this was the day I got to see Laura and I was too sick to want to do anything. After I met up with Laura, her mom, and her cousin at their hotel, we went out to dinner. The company was great but I could barely eat so I ended up calling it a night after dinner and we didn’t get to have the full blown reunion that I had anticipated but I was so glad to be in my bed when I finally made it back to the hostel. It was the boys’ last night so we all said goodbye and then I did my best to sleep through my coughing and quick temperature changes.

The next morning, Annie and I woke up early and left for the train station, both sick as dogs, and barely made it to the train station before our train left. In fact, even though we made it there on time, our train still left without us. We had already experienced this once on our way to Nice and it was a pretty easy fix because we were able to just have the original ticket price put towards the new price but sadly these tickets were non refundable and we had to pay full price for the next train to Lyon. It was a miserable realisation but we were definitely ready to get home at this point so there was no other option. After about a two hour wait in the station, it was time for us to load up and pass out until we reached Lyon.

When I got home, I got immediately into my bed and probably didn’t wake up for 12 more hours. The next morning, I woke up with a high fever and nausea and I knew I was doomed. I had the flu (or something like it) for all of last week and didn’t

early morning view off the balcony!

make it to a single class. So I didn’t go to school for 24 days in a row… weird. Unfortunately it meant that when I showed up to class this week, I ended up with several surprise midterms. I have absolutely no idea how to gage my grade in any of my classes because I have yet to receive back a graded assignment and I actually don’t know if I have even had one yet. Going back to UVA this fall is going to be a bit of a shock work-wise.

In more current news, my host sister left this morning to move to New York for 7 months. I’m sad to see her go! It will be lonely not to have anyone on my side of the flat. Still not sure who I am supposed to call from now on when I am locked out of the apartment… This could be an issue. Alsoo it is finally warm here! It’s unbelievable how much the city has transformed in the past couple of weeks. People are all over the place now, having picnics, running, rollerblading, and playing music in the streets. It has given me a whole new appreciation for the city and I couldn’t be happier here.

 

love me some paddleboating

Today it was in the high 60s and Annie and I walked to the zoo and then rented paddle boats and boated around the big lake there for a while. It was soo nice out and we had a great time just walking along the river and finally getting some sun. I tried to wear shorts yesterday but I’m pretty sure my skin is basically see-through it is so pale because I saw several people staring in disbelief at the whiteness. I think I’m going to wait a while before breaking those out again… But tonight I met up with a group of girls in the UVA program and we all ate dinner on the side of the river, surrounded by groups of french people doing the exact same thing. I am absolutely in lovee with this city now that it’s warm. Also when I came home tonight, there were fireworks going off of the bridge near my house so that was a great way to end the day.

 

Unfortunately I have to work on some actual school work now but I miss everyone! Get on skype moree. Love from Lyon!

lyon gets weird

shutting down the station

So a few nights ago, we were sitting down at dinner and mes parents start telling me a story. It starts out that a guy, wearing strange clothes got onto the metro with his pet fox. While this should be weird in and of itself, it’s actually not that abnormal for a french person to have a fox-like dog…if not a real one. But it is illegal to bring animals on the metro, except tamed dogs of normal breeds. In either case, he brings his fox on there and takes a seat but the fox starts being aggressive towards other passengers. He is growling and biting at the guy next to him and so finally the guy leans over and says excuse me sir, can you please control your fox? You shouldn’t have him on here in the first place and his behavior is out of control. Well the pet owner didn’t like this one bit so he reached into his pocket, grabbed the knife that was hiding in there, and slit the guys throat. So the passenger died. Right there on the metro. Other passengers jumped up to hold the guy down so that he didn’t kill anyone else and then he was arrested at the next stop. I sat there at dinner as they finished this story and I just thought, surely I am wayy lost in translation here…There’s no way that a guy’s throat would get slit for asking a pet owner to get his fox to chill out. So I looked it up after dinner “un homme égorgé dans le métro” confirmed. At least now I know that if a fox starts biting me aboard public transportation, I oughta just keep silent and embrace the fact that I might lose a few fingers.

chalkdust torture

This morning was a brutal wake up at 6:40 AM….last time I was up that early was for the death trip to the wood museum. I made myself breakfast: some fresh baked bread with raspberry jam and the french equivalent of apple sauce, “pear sauce.” As usual, the delicious breakfast perked me up and I was ready to face the still dark cold morning. I grabbed my ipod to help myself wake up more on the 15 minute walk over to the University.

When I got there, I looked around the main office for the list that was supposed to be posted telling me where my first class would be. It was put up on friday but I decided that it was unnecessary for me to walk alllll the way over to school on my last weekend of freedom, so I convinced myself that I could show up before any classes started on the first day and find out what time my first one was going to take place. All did not go as planned….

Since the list was missing, I knocked on the door of the main office and then saw the sign that said they would not even be opening for another 45 minutes…Not Good. I chased down some authoritative looking figures and pleaded with them to find the list so I knew whether I was supposed to be in class or not. After a lot of back and forth questioning in very quick french, they had established that no one could help me until the main office opened because all of the lists were locked in there and no one had a key. I was sent to the cafeteria to sit for 30 minutes until lists were accessible.

Luckily I ran into a group of 4 other procrastinators, who wound up in the same situation. We all sat in the cafe and waited. It is so interesting how many different types of people I have the opportunity to meet here. Just in that group of the four of us, there were 2 Americans, one Irish women, who moved here without knowing any french, and a Spanish exchange student. At the end of our wait period, we were assigned our levels, according to our test results and it turned out that my first class was set up to begin one minute after I received my assignment.

L'Université Lyon 2

I sprinted with another student in my program to try to find our classroom, which was, of course, up 5 flights of stairs and at the end of the hall. Once we found the class, we took a seat in the back and got to take a second to glance around and get a look at our future classmates. Since this program is divided by level, you essentially have every class with the same group of 15-20 students. For once in my life I was a minority. About 85% of the students were from Asia and the other small percentage were from Brazil and Germany. I was one of two Americans.

We were split up into levels again and then given our schedules for the day. That was it. We were done and I had woken up at 6:40 am just to be handed a sheet of paper and then told “you’re free to leave!” What a joke. Since I hadn’t been awake this early in a long time, I wasn’t sure what to do with myself for the full day ahead of me so I decided to check off a few items on my progressively ominous to-do list.

First I picked up a notebook, assuming that we will one day do work, although there are no indications of that yet… Then I walked over to a pharmacy to grab some Chapstick, which turned out to be the kind that you twist up out of the tube like a lipstick, but I accidentally twisted too quickly and it fell out of the tube and into the gutter before I ever got to use it. It was a sad moment, almost rivaling the next moment when I had to fork out another 4 euros for Chapstick round 2.

Next item on the to-do list was headphones because mine have been disagreeing with me and will only play out of one ear at a time; I can’t handle that. So I walked over to the FNAC, which is similar to a best buy, and picked out the least expensive decent pair that I could find. For some reason when I checked out, the cashier did not give me a bag so I just grabbed my receipt and headed for the exit. Of course I got stopped since it looked like I was making a beeline for the door with stolen goods. I showed the guard my receipt and was released back into the bustle of Bellecour.

It was so awkward carrying around the bulky package with the headphones and they wouldn’t fit into my bag so I decided to go ahead and open it up so I could just wear them around my neck and avoid lugging around the package. I ripped open the plastic casing and shoved it all into the trash and put the phones around my neck, feeling better about the arrangement of my items. After a few blocks I decided I might as well go ahead and try the new headphones so I dug around for my ipod and pulled the long headphone cord out of my pocket, ready to find out whether my euros were well spent or not.

I couldn’t believe what I found at the end of the cord. It was literally a plug the size of an ipod for godzilla. Immediately I flashed back to shoving all of the packaging into the trashcan out side FNAC, turned full circle and started booking it back before I had to make a double purchase for the second time today.

When I got back to the trashcan, I glanced around and then thought, ya know I will probably never see any of these people again. So I reached down into the bottom of it, in the middle of the open shopping area, and fished out my packaging and warranty. Don’t judge me. I walked back into the fnac with the headphones stuffed into the freshly recovered package and got stopped by the same security guard! He made me show receipts again and asked why I was walking in with a ripped open package but I totally butchered my french while trying to explain and he eventually gave up and just let me go.

I headed back to the audio section, hoping that the same cashier would still be there and thankfully he

who'da thunk it?

was. I pulled out my ipod and the tip of the headphones and showed him my mistake, insisting that he let me return it. He started laughing a lot and I became even more flustered saying that I had just been in the store less than an hour ago and he had to let me return it! He grabbed the tip of the headphones and says, in english, “watch this.” Then he pulled off the adapter and revealed a normal size headphone tip that fit perfectly into my ipod. I was mortified to say the least.

I thanked him and tried to leave as quickly as possible so he didn’t see my face reddening. Of course this sparked the guard’s interest, yet again, because he was already pretty convinced that I was a criminal. The cashier had taken the package from me and thrown it away so now I was walking out of the store with just headphones and he was not pleased. He walked me back to the audio section and made the guy verify that my story was true, because honestly would you believe a red-faced, briskly-walking person with unwrapped goods making a beeline for the door? I wouldn’t. Luckily, my cashier friend said my story checked out and I was allowed to leave, probably never to return.

After that debacle it was time to head back to the University to check out the optional classes and see which ones I wanted to take. I went to a modern literature class, which is very similar to the one I took last semester but focuses in more detail on 20th century works. Then I went to a course which is just meant to help us improve the style of our writing in French. Unfortunately, with all of the FNAC problems, I hadn’t had time to get a coffee during my break and I was dreaming after about 20 minutes of the class. Of course, I had the same teacher for both of my afternoon classes, so she already knew my name….annnd called on me while I was asleep. I woke up and stared at the sheet in front of me trying to make some sense of what had been going on before I drifted off. After about 4 minutes of silence, she finally repeated the question and I attempted to answer it as well as possible, considering that I had slept through the story that the question was based on, it was wrong.

Overall, it was an eventful day. In my opinion, it seems like a lot of conflict can be avoided by sleeping until 3pm….but it looks like those days are long gone. I am going to have to start going to bed at 9pm to get my body adjusted to this and in that case, I’ve got a little over an hour until bedtime so I’d better start getting my stuff in order to face another 7am morning tomorrow. Love from Lyon!

a change of pace

With the last week of freedom coming to a close, I thought back on the past seven days and on what major events should be written about in this post. It didn’t take long for me to realize that this week had been more about living in the city and finding my bearings and less about finding every tourist hotspot and checking it off my list. However, that is not to say that I have nothing to blog about this week but rather that I have decided to change things up. Based on this week’s observations, I have composed a list, essentially underlining the big differences between living in America and living in France.

Stuff French People Like:

1. Whispering. I cannot think of how many times I have been in a restaurant or cafe, sitting and

fermez la bouche

talking with my friends when I realize that everyone in the room is looking at us. Apparently the American concept of an “inside voice” is about 10 notches too high for any indoor area in France. I started trying to pull off this “french speak” at dinner and it resulted in a lot “what did you say”s and “why are you whispering?”s. It turns out that Americans do not have superhuman hearing, sorry ’bout it France.

2. Not Smiling or Laughing. I’m pretty sure there is some sort of unwritten rule that you shouldn’t laugh out loud in France until you have consumed a hefty amount of alcohol. It seems like everyone just walks around having grave conversations and if I start laughing in a store or even walking on the sidewalk, it results in glares from random pedestrians. It’s almost like they hear laughing and think “stupid Americans.” This is also the case for people working in customer service. Unlike in America, where employees have a huge grin on their face for every customer, here they seem to hand out “employee of the month” awards to whoever can maintain the most stoic appearance during a transaction. I have to hand it to them, they’ve got it down.

3. Taking Their Sweet Time. If you’ve ever got somewhere important to be, do not stop at any french restaurant and expect to be finished at any respectable hour. Coffee, Lunch, Dinner, each one’s a serious process. The entire idea of taking things “to-go” is extremely American and if I see anyone walking around carrying a snack or drink (which is extremely), it’s a safe bet they’re not French. Every night when dinner begins, I know it’s going to be a 60-90 minute time investment and I need to plan accordingly. Restaurants are even worse because they seem to think you need about 30 minutes just to decide what you want to drink and then they want you to order everything separately and take breaks in between courses. It’s a painfully long process which they don’t seem to notice or mind. What I wouldn’t do for a little fast food around here…

4. The Lack of Ice. I’m not sure whether french science classes just skip over the section about the properties of water, but they do not seem to be aware of it’s ability to freeze and become a

what a beautiful sight

wonderful addition to my drink. Restaurants just plop down a pitcher of lukewarm tap water and empty glasses at every meal. I have checked our freezer in the flat to try to find anything I might be able to pour a little water into and freeze myself up a nice chunk-o-ice. No such luck yet…

5. Smoking. I know this was to be expected, every American knows that French people love them some cigarettes. I live right by a high school and happen to frequently walk by during their break time and the streets outside the school are literally filled with 14-18 year olds, all puffing away. It’s not just the teenagers either. While in America, it seems like a lot of people go through a phase where they try smoking for a while and then give it up after college, here it’s totally normal for people of all ages. Just yesterday, I saw a woman light her cigarette and then turn and light the cigarette of the 70 some year old woman that she was with. The sidewalks are lined with cigarette butts to the extent where I think everyone has given up on trying to clean them up, seeing as the process is a never ending one, fully endorsed by French people of all ages.

6. Silence. I know we already went into the French loving of speaking in low tones but this is different, this is is more their love of just sitting and eating without uttering a word. In America we like to call it an “awkward silence” but here, no one thinks it is uncomfortable at all to just sit down to dinner and eat without any conversation at all for a solid 15 minutes. I’ve always thought it was strange that this was deemed “awkward” by Americans anyways so I am starting to enjoy it as well but it is somewhat difficult not to sit there anticipating who will be the first person to say “sooo……this is awkward.” But since I don’t know how to say that in french, it most definitely won’t be me.

7. Not Using Pooper Scoopers. Anyone who has ever lived in or visited a big city in the US, you’ve

debating printing a few of these and posting them around France

seen the signs. The fines in the US, for not cleaning up after your pet, are actually pretty hefty in some cities. However, French people do not seem to be bothered by sidewalks covered in feces and it results in a lot of careful stepping. Countless times I have been walking with friends and have been shoved suddenly because I was about to ruin a good pair of shoes in a surprise left by a french dog. Watch out for the…!!! Careful not to….!!! It’s getting tiring. Come on France.

8. Strange Noises. You know that noise you learned how to make when you were in elementary school and wanted to get a giggle out of your classmates, so you’d pucker up your mouth and let out a little air then shout EWWW WHO DID THAT? That’s the noise. The French people love it and they all have it down pat, ready to throw into any conversation. We’re sitting there at dinner and then instead of saying something was surprising, someone will just make a hand motion and whip out the noise. It’s like a short expressive over-pronunciation of a “p” but all French people do it and you never know when to expect it. I have practiced it over and over but still don’t think I can pull it off; it’s one of those things that you just can’t use appropriately if you haven’t been doing it your whole life. Still, it’s pretty amusing for an American to see a couple of well dressed French women having a conversation and then all of the sudden add in a little African bush language and act like nothing happened.

9. Green Eggs and Ham. The more time I spend here, the more I doubt Dr. Seuss‘ nationality because French people use ham and eggs as main ingredients on almost every sandwich. One of their favorite sandwiches is just a piece or two of ham on a baguette with a bunch of cold butter. Nasty. Sometimes they don’t even mention eggs as an ingredient on a sandwich because it should just be assumed, of course you are getting them as well. So you order a chicken sandwich, open up the bread to take a look and find a piece of chicken, buried under a half pound of hard boiled eggs. This unwelcome surprise has caught me off guard several times.

10. Not Using Condiments. Sitting at dinner every night, I always find myself glancing around for the salt and pepper, oh yeah, they don’t even put them on the table because no one uses them. It’s not just the dinner shakers that I miss either, sauce in general is a completely unknown concept here. Every

baby come back to me

time I bite into a baguette with lettuce, meat, and of course, egg, I am reminded that sandwiches just can’t compete here because they don’t use anything to increase the enjoyment of the process. No more take it away sauce, no more vinaigrette, no more pesto. France doesn’t know what it’s missing out on, but I do. I am currently accepting care-packages full of take-it-away sauce and salt and pepper, please and thank you.

11. Spitting. At this point, it probably seems like the sidewalks in France are essentially a cesspool of bad habits. This is basically true. As you try to dodge the piles of dog poop and cigarette butts, it is also important to watch out for pools of spit, as disgusting as that sounds, it’s everywhere, probably as a result of the permanent cigarette taste in the mouths of the French. Spitting isn’t going to get rid of it France, buy a pack of gum.

12. American Accents. I’m not saying the French like Americans, they don’t. But when Americans speak french, they absolutely love it. I had always assumed that their hatred of our english speaking just

don't deny it france

carried over into our french speaking as well but as I found out yesterday, this is not the case. I was ordering a coffee at a small cafe/bar and there were two girls and a guy sitting at the bar next to where I ordered. They immediately attacked me with questions, where are you from? what are you doing here? One of the girls just kept repeating everything I was saying and said that she just wanted to ask questions so that I would keep talking because it was so sexy… All three agreed that they loved American accents and wanted me to continue talking so that they could hear but the man who worked at the cafe could see me, red-faced and backing away slowly and told me to go on ahead and not to worry about the drink. I have always wanted an accent, I guess I just never thought about the fact that I have one now and we sound just as exotic to them as they would if they came to the US and started speaking English. I don’t hate it.

13. Storing Milk in Cabinets. French people drink milk labeled “UHT,” which means that it has been pasteurized at an Ultra High Temperature and therefore has an “extended shelf life.” As far as I know, milk does not have a shelf life at all. It comes straight home and goes into the fridge, where it lasts about a week and a half before it picks up a funky smell and gets tossed. Au Contraire… In France, when we run out of milk, ma mère grabs another jug of it out of the pantry….at room temperature. Even though they all swear that it is sanitary, I just haven’t been able to drink it since I saw it’s storage place so it looks like I will have to rely on ice cream and yogurt for dairy intake until I return.

14. Jack Russell Terriers. I don’t know what kind of historical events he is looking into in France,

le chien français

but Wishbone is everywhere here. Every time I turn a corner, I get “that’s the story wishbonee” stuck in my head as I see, yet another, French person taking their little terrier for a stroll. The only other dog breed I have seen here looks like a mix between a fox and a wolf… Since I’m pretty sure Wishbone is half-human, I will only blame the wolf-pups for defacing the sidewalks.

 

That concludes this week’s list and while many of the things on this list may seem negative, I am still having a wonderful time here and don’t want anyone to think otherwise! My French family is absolutely perfect for me (they came back from their weekend trip in the Alps with about sixty euros worth of chocolate to share…) and I am quickly progressing in French comprehension through dinner conversations with them. Classes at Lyon 2 start tomorrow so I have to wake up at 7 am to make it to class, therefore I am going to bed right now to try to fix my super messed up sleeping schedule. Missing everyone at home a lot! Love from Lyon!

oh the places you’ll go…

….and wish you’d never been.

Thursday night, I knew I needed to go out since I would have to have a low key friday night in  preparation for my early morning wake up on Saturday. So I met up with a few of my friends and we went over to Vieux Lyon to go to a bar that my friend’s host brother has been telling us we

lovin us some johnny walsh

would like. It’s called Johnny Walsh so when we had previously passed it, we assumed that it would be all Americans and we never went in. Finally thursday, we decided to check it out. It was so crowded that there was nowhere to sit and we tried to push our way to the back just to find enough room for all of us to stand in a group.

There was a live musician playing his guitar and singing basically the itunes top 10 of 2008 while the crowd sang along and danced. It was an amusing sight to say the least. A few seats opened up after a while and we were able to station ourselves right beside the bar. We ordered a few Stellas, which is one of the few familiar drafts that they serve here. A bud light bottle was like 8 euros, it’s ridiculous.

After a little while we ended up talking to a few guys sitting nearby and we were able to practice normal french conversations without wondering in the back of our minds whether we were talking to members of a street gang. This is one advantage of going to a normal bar I guess…

Eventually I decided I wanted to make my way towards the dancing scene, not to mention a few

me and the DaNcINg QuEeNs

more people had come in and the crowd by the stage had become markedly more attractive. We danced and talked to a few people over there and then realized they were all 100% blackout and as amusing as it was, it wasn’t worth it to repeat botched french over and over until they understood one sentence, so we headed home and went to bed.

There is really not much to say about friday because I woke up at 330 pm and didn’t really do anything eventful. I went to Printemps for a little while, which is sort of like the french version of Nordstroms but there wasn’t much to see so I just got a quick dinner and then went home. I didn’t get to say goodbye to mes parents but they left for the Swiss Alps to go skiing with their friends for the weekend. I came home, wasted more time and then took a melatonin early and went back to bed, the place I spend the majority of my time here….I need to work on that.

When I woke up Saturday morning at 6:30 am, I began to question whether it would be more enjoyable to remain in my warm bed for the rest of the day or wake up and head into the freezing weather to go on this trip, which I really knew nothing about. I eventually chose the latter and pulled myself out from under the cozy comforter once I had run out of snoozed warnings. Breakfast was a clementine and a slice of a warm baguette with jam paired with a shot of espresso to help me brace myself for the walk to the bus.

After stepping out into the dark bitter cold street outside the apartment, I knew I was underdressed. Although I was wearing a scarf, hat, big down jacket, several layers of tops, annnd tights under my jeans, nothing could prepare you for these harsh winds and below freezing temperatures. I thought my nose was about to freeze and fall off during the fifteen minute walk towards the designated meeting place in Bellecour.

After waiting for about twenty minutes in the center of the city, we finally piled into the charter bus, soaking in the warmth. Just a few minutes after being in the bus, Annie pointed out that she had gotten used to the new warmth so quickly that she was already cold. I laughed and then realized I was shivering as well… turns out we had gotten a bus with a broken heater…for a two hour drive. Joy to the world.

Two hours later when we pulled off the road into a small village that looked like the boonies of France and the driver announced that we had arrived at our destination. Not sure whether this was a joke or not, we filed out of the bus and waited for further instruction. The director of the program sent us to a nearby stone house structure, which turned out to be a museum of sorts so we headed into a back room to watch a quick documentary about the museum. It became progressively evident that we had been brought to an embroidery museum….who even knew those existed?

not pleased, huddled over the heater

Not only was I awake at 9am on a Saturday morning but now I was watched a short film about thumbs being pricked if you weren’t careful to use a thimble. Not to mention, each person was sitting closely pushed up against the person beside them to try to generate a little body heat since the museum owners had no concept of indoor heating either. I’m pretty sure it’s illegal in the US for a working environment to be below 32 degrees, but in France, it’s just pleasantly nippy.

We endured embroidery demonstrations, while crowding over the one heater in the upstairs part of the tiny museum and then we were given an hour and a half of free time to “look around.” I dont know about the other people on this trip but I was done looking around the second we walked in and I was nott pleased to discover that we were to spend another 90 minutes in the freezing cold attic room with hand sewn patches and a 20″ heater that wasn’t putting out much effort.

We survived the designated time and were loaded back into the bus to get to our next destination, oh boy. It was about a 40 minute ride but the heat in the bus had been fixed and I’m pretty sure every person in the bus slept through that ride. The next stop did not look much more promising than the first and I debated whether I even wanted to get off the bus or whether I would have a better time sleeping in the cramped grey velour seats…

Since I had completely forgotten to pack a lunch, I walked to the only boulangerie in this ghost town, which doubled as the town convenience store, and bought a baguette and some laughing cow cheese to fix myself a little something to tide me over through my quickly approaching death-by-museum. When our lunch break was over we were taken to another poorly heated stone museum.

Even now, I am not quite sure what the focus of that second museum was but I think it had something to do with the importance of wood? There were a lot of wood shoes and wood samples

is this real life? a wood museum?

but I thought that surely no one would build an entire establishment in honor of wood and its many functions, but now I know that I should never underestimate the potential mundaneness of a French museum.

After we were released from the wood museum, we headed up the hill to the local “fromagerie.” This was more endurable because the building was surprisingly cozy and we got to see a bunch of cheese being made and hey, who doesn’t like cheese? Also it didn’t hurt that they followed up the tour with bread and cheese samples…

The trip had finally come to a conclusion and we climbed back into the charter bus to start the trip

the only highlight of the trip: cheese

back home. My pent up desire, to sleep through all of the day’s presentations, kicked in and I slept the whole two hours and woke up just in time to be dropped off back in Bellecour, twelve hours after I had left there that morning.

Since my host parents were out of town this weekend, I told two of my friends that it would be ok to come over and pre-game in my room after we grabbed dinner.  My host sister clearly had the same thoughts because she had a few friends over already when we got back to my house. Several bottles of wine later, the pregames had combined and we got to meet my french sister’s friends and hang out as a group until we decided to leave for bars.

Annie and I didn’t end up staying long because we realized we were exhausted from our early wake up and all the french speaking; it really is tiring! We headed back to the house and headed directly into the kitchen for late night food. It is almost impossible to find any good snack food here because everything in the kitchen is just raw ingredients to be cooked or it’s fruit… We settled on some cottage cheese with sugar on top, nasty right? It tasted great at the time though and we devoured it and then headed to bed.

This morning when we woke up, ma soeur had cooked us a delicious hang over breakfast of scrambled eggs and hashbrowns. Just what we needed.

Since it was already about 2 pm by the time we finished eating, we decided to do something with our day, so we got dressed and walked over to the Musée de Beaux Arts to finish looking at the exhibits. We walked around, looking at the paintings until it was closing time and we made our way

a painting from the janmot series

towards the exit. Since we headed out a different way than where we came in, we ended up in a new room with a series of 18 paintings that were set up to surround the entire room and tell a story of some sort. The series is called “Le poème de l’âme” or “the poem of the soul” and it was certainly the most memorable group of paintings that we saw today.

After the museum, it was just about time for mass so I decided to go with Annie and visit, yet another, new Cathedral. We got there a few minutes late so we had to sit on the floor in the back but the service was very similar to the modern one the week before and we even saw one of ma soeur’s friends, so we thought this was pretty good progress since we were starting to recognize congregation members.

When I got home after church, ma soeur surprised Annie and I with dinner ready and on the table for all three of us. We sat and ate rice and some sort of fried vegetable with melted cheese on it. After the main course, there was no more of my favorite yogurt left so ma soeur suggested that I

THIS IS NOT YOGURT

try something similar and she set a small yoplait-looking cup in front of each of us. She opened hers and turned it upside down into another bowl, at which point, it plopped out without losing its original shape. She poured sugar on top of it and began to eat, so we mimicked her actions and took a bite, expecting it to taste like natural yogurt or cottage cheese.

My first spoonful, I realized I was literally eating cream cheese covered in sugar. I couldn’t even attempt to gag down more than three bites of it. Annie was having similar struggles across the table as we tried to seem grateful for the dinner and “dessert.” It just wasn’t going to happen so we admitted that it wasn’t our thing and cleared off the table.

Another week of vacation lies ahead of me before classes begin on the 31st so hopefully this week will be full of more encounters with homeless men in the dark and attractive potential husbands. Until then, Love from Lyon!

new day, new school, new home

The morning began at a painfully early 8:30 when my roommates woke me up to head over to the insurance office to get ourselves signed up for some coverage in case of “skiing accidents” etc… When we got to the office at 9:15, the line was so long we knew there was no way that we would be able to get registered and still make it to our 10:00 class at the University of Lyon 2 for our first day, so we decided to leave and go get breakfast instead! I fully supported this decision as we headed over to our new favorite boulangerie. I went for an apple filled croissant this morning and then we went on a scavenger hunt for a big cup of coffee.

We found a small café about three blocks away and walked inside, speaking english and were surprised to find that the owner spoke english too and was more than willing to give us a few tips on how to say some new words. We learned how to ask for food/ drinks “to-go,” which seems to be an invaluable term considering that we are almost always running late around here… The owner also gave us a couple of much needed cokes and we headed off to class at the CIEF, an intensive week-long language course at the University.

new school

Classes began at 10:00 and did not end until 5:00 which made for a long and difficult day. Not only was I exhausted from a 1:30 AM (my time) phone call with my family, our classes were taught by a fluent french woman who spoke quickly, at an advanced level that lost most of us after about 1 hour. Several student’s eyes were drifting open and closed in a desperate attempt to avoid being rude.

Finally at one, we got a lunch break and headed over to the nearby cafeteria, where we ordered paninis and, of course, du café. We had an hour off before heading back to the dreaded classroom so we decided it was high time for a bathroom break. Since the nearby restroom had a sign on it that said “closed indefinitely,” we had to take our search elsewhere. After about 10 minutes, we came upon two small restrooms in terrible condition. I never realized how spoiled we are at UVA until today. Everything is at our fingertips at the corner and even in every library with a bathroom, greenberries, plus the academic setting (the things I already miss). The different aspects of student life here are very distant and divided in such a way that it becomes difficult to make the most of that one hour break. Although there was much debate about how we could escape the last four hours of the day’s work, we ended up back in the classroom to endure several more hours of lecturing and conversational practice.

When we were released at 5, it was time to head home and start packing so that we could move in with our host families. While it only took about 15 minutes to get our things back into our suitcases, the actual communication with our families was much more of an ordeal since none of us wanted to sound like grammatical idiots on the phone with our future housemates. Once we practiced several potential conversations, my two friends and I each called our individual families and made plans to be at their homes within the hour. We called a cab, got our things together and loaded into the squished car with a nauseating anxiety, thinking about our first conversations with our new families.

After the cab driver dropped off two of my friends just a few blocks away, we pulled up in front of my new home. It was better than the pictures had depicted, with the Saône river right out in front and the “eiffel tower à Lyon” (a monument of the eiffel tower) just diagonal from the apartment entrance.

la tour eiffel à lyon

I called my host family to let them know that I was outside and the dad came downstairs to help me bring up my baggage, ignoring my attempted handshake and instead giving me a kiss on each cheek as a much needed welcome. Despite the language barrier, my nausea dissolved completely after just a few minutes of conversation when I realized what a sweet family I was lucky enough to get and how much they wanted to help me and understand me.

I got a quick tour of the apartment and then was shown to my room, after which the mother came in, carrying some beautiful, yellow, potted flowers and said “pour te souvenir de la nature” or something to remind you of nature, since she knew it would be a big transition for me to change from living in the country to living in a major city. They checked on me constantly, making sure I had everything I could possibly need and after a quick skype call to my mom, a knock on my door meant dinner time.

room with a view

Before even reaching the kitchen, I knew I was in for a treat. It turned out that the mom had gone out and gotten the ingredients for a six course meal as a celebration of my arrival. I quickly realized I could easily get used to living here as I enjoyed leek soup, fish and crab stuffing covered in a cheese sauce, then cheese from switzerland and southern france over a fresh baked baguette, then yogurt and fruit, and finishing with dark chocolate filled with bourbon… yum. They also spoke slowly and clearly so that we could all keep up in the conversation about my school day, their recent trips, upcoming birthdays, and their daughter’s upcoming trip to New York to study at Columbia University. So far it seems that I could not have been paired with a more perfect fit and I am loving my new home. I am going to get back to unpacking and staring off my balcony at the stunningly gorgeous view, that is the Saône. Love from Lyon!

view of the Saône from the balcony

finally made it to lyon!

balcony view

The Frankfurt airport is officially one of my least favorite places ever. Not only did we endure freezing cold shuttle rides to and from our flights, we also had to hike up and down multiple flights of stairs in order to make it to the correct gates. Luckily, my friends and I were still able to be seated together on all three flights and slept through the last two, allowing for a bit of a recovery from the time difference.

After picking up our luggage, Annie and I headed out the exit in search of our cab driver that was supposed to be waiting for us. Since we were running about an hour late, I guess he decided to leave us because we did not see anyone from “taxi jaune” and had to test our french for the first time with the long line of taxi drivers waiting to pick up passengers. We finally negotiated our way into a van-type taxi to accomodate our massive amounts of luggage and we were off! Our cab driver, with his thick accent, kept us entertained by testing our french conversation skills and attempting to convince us that we were doing well. Despite the fact that he was working for tips, I’d like to think we did alright.

After he dropped us off at the hotel, we checked in with an overly concerned concierge who repeated herself multiple times s-l-o-w-l-y  to make sure that we understood everything she was saying. We got our keys and headed up to our five person room which we would be sharing with a few other girls in the program. Once the baggage was all moved in, I took a few photos off of our balcony in the hotel room. Here is my first view of Lyon:

view

Soon all of the girls had arrived and we decided to head out for coffee in order to avoid falling asleep too early and therefore throwing off our sleep cycle for several days. We went to a small shop right across the street and were delighted to encounter the friendly owner who spoke both english and french. He seated us upstairs in a round booth like setting and took our order. I asked for “du café,” thinking I would get a regular coffee but instead received a shot of espresso; the owner apparently thought I said “petit café.” Despite the mix-up, it was a delicious espresso and a great first impression of Lyon.

le petit café

Once we got back to the room and changed clothes, we decided to head out for a walk to get a glimpse of the city. We were able to wander around the streets of Lyon at the most beautiful time possible, just before dusk. As we walked in and out of stores, we became hungry and decided to check  out a couple of local places to eat. Being the cheap Americans that we are, we refused to pay more than 6 euros for a quick dinner and found that our frugality eliminated most of the options around. Embarrassingly enough, on the first night in France, we wound up with McDonalds‘ burgers and fries from a very ritzy venue in the middle of the city.

first taste of france, french fries

Now we are back in the hotel, so exhausted and ready to go to bed. So far, France is beautiful and exciting. Although we sensed some animosity towards us, as Americans (we were given the bird during our first walk down the streets), we will adjust easily and come to understand the french way of living. Tomorrow is our first meeting with the program director, more updates will follow! Love from Lyon.

no turning back now…

After a 7.5 hour flight, I have arrived at my first destination, Amsterdam. Currently I am sitting in the airport, browsing through dutch websites and listening to the foreign languages that surround me.

This morning’s departure was not quite the spectacle that I expected. My dad and sister waved goodbye to Mom and I as we backed down the driveway headed to DC. The 2.5 hour ride was spent listening to music and debating lunch venues rather than discussing the huge change that was about to happen. This allowed for my denial to continue all the way to the terminal.

Rather than calling it like it is, I have been referring to this trip as my “weekend get-away,” in order to calm my nerves. This worked up until the very last minute when I had to say goodbye to the very last part of my family that I would see for five whole months, my mom. Despite my usual excitement and anticipation for change and challenges, the idea of spending five months in a strange place with no real security blanket became suddenly terrifying. Tears were quickly cried and dried, goodbyes said, and my friend and I headed into the gate, leaving family and all close connections on the other side.

We made it onto our plane and negotiated with other passengers until we were seated side by side. After settling into the seats and checking out the movie list for the evening, my friend realized that she recognized the boy sitting across the aisle from me. It turned out that he, too, was headed to Lyon and we now had an addition to our posse for negotiating our way through foreign terminals and security checks.

Two movies, a TV dinner, and bag of pretzels later, we had arrived. The Amsterdam terminal was quick and painless, minus the surprisingly intrusive TSA (but dutch version) check…  Now here we are sitting at our gate, waiting to board our flight to Frankfurt, Germany. The itinerary says that we should arrive in Lyon around 2 pm. I’ll update later tonight if I don’t pass out first! The time difference is drastic… I feel like I should be going to bed right now but instead they are handing out danishes for breakfast… This will take a while to get used to. Love from the Netherlands!