Have a Holly Jolly

Voila... so Christmas has passed (well not quite yet in the US), but for me, it is done. Things went just as I predicted and I had a very special Christmas. Yesterday, I took a train to Lyon to spend Christmas with Adrien's family. Christmas eve was spent at Adrien's grandmother's very cute vielle (old) house. As Adrien's mother prepared a late delicious dinner, I watched Adrien struggle to open the can of foie gras (the liver of a duck who has been force fed) to pass the time.
During dinner, we sat around the table drinking champagne and I tried to listen, picking up random words per sentence. Then Adrien's mother began to quiz me on my French vocabulary by pointing at different body parts. When we got to the eye (singular), I completely forgot, turning to Adrien to think. The word was at the tip of my tongue, therefore out of frustration, I blurted out "Putain! (bad word, could mean a few things, but in the context it probably meant the S*** word or the F*** word)" Oops... The room was silent and all eyes were on me... and then the laughter commenced. Adrien thought it was the funniest thing ever "because it came out so naturally," but I was mortified. What a first impression I must have made on his grandmother.
Then, Adrien's sister asked me to pass the champagne. The champagne was sitting behind me on a shelf next to the lamp. I turned around, grabbed the bottle, but rejoined the conversation, not paying attention, and nearly pulled the lamp down with the bottle. Later on, I was helping with the dishes, when Adrien's sister asked me to ask where the bowls belong.
"...les valises viennent d'où?" I demanded.
"mon cherie, ils ne sont pas les valises" (my dear, those are not the valises), Adrien's mom replied.
oops... I had just realized that I asked where the suitcases came from instead of dishes.
I had reason though, to say dishes in French, one would say "les vaisselles."
I went to bed, but I certainly did not have "visions of sugarplums dancing in my head." Christmas morning, I could not recall my dream, but I am certain that it was about World War II with Nazis and I am pretty sure that Klaus Barbie made an appearance. I then asked Adrien if his grandmother's house had anything to do with the war, but he said not really, just a bomb in the garden and he told me that a few areas were trenches. Interesting that I had this dream because Klaus Barbie was known as the butcher of Lyon for killing off and torturing thousands of people.
After we opened presents, we parted for Adrien's aunt's house. Conversation was hard for me, so once again, I found myself day dreaming often. Apparently it was quite apparent that I could hardly comprehend what was going on, because Adrien's cousin's boyfriend told me that it was fun watching my face when I didn't understand what was going on. Then Adrien's other cousin tried to have a conversation with me while I was daydreaming, so I did not respond. It was difficult to understand what was going on when you have 10 very excited people speaking at once all in a different language (which I am not fluent in). Adrien's aunt encouraged the others to speak slowly so I could understand, but this would last for just a moment, and the speed would quickly pick up gaining momentum. I have a hard time listening to people speak in English, let alone in French. The same, I enjoyed myself.
After dinner and after watching a video of his cousin (who I discovered was on the French version of American Idol), we left for the train station. This would not be a normal travel experience with me if something bad didn't happen, so of course, the second we entered the train station, we noticed a large group of people staring at the screen. Delays everywhere... all trains, except for mine. My train was cancelled. The trains were delayed, because someone assaulted the SNCF conductor (only in France would the entire chain of trains stop for that). I had to wait in the train station for an extra hour until the next and last train went to Grenoble arrived. This isn't a bad wait, except for the tiny fact that it is freezing in the train station. I was so cold, I could not feel my toes. I finally got on the train, but of course, I would have to sit in the only car that did not have heat. I sat curled up in the fetal position for about 30 minutes (but it felt like hours) freezing, layering everything that I had in my suitcase on me. Fortunately, Adrien's sister got me gloves (since I lose mine often) and his mother got me a scarf, so I was semi-good to go. I just needed socks. Finally the girl who was sitting in front of me had the bright idea to check the other cars for heat. She came back with great news and we moved. I was almost unthawed by the time we arrived in Grenoble, so I was disappointed that I was going to have to wait in line for a taxi. Since it was Christmas, there was about 2 taxis per hour (not true, but they didn't come often) After 45 minutes waiting in the below freezing temperature, a taxi arrived and I finally made it home.

Below are some pictures from Christmas


Adrien with the foie gras


Christmas eve table


Emilie and me


Adrien's grandmother and mother


Sleepy time


supprimer=cancelled


this meant nothing to me... it was the reason why we were never going home on christmas... so tired of the excuses, just work


waiting

So Incredibly Awkward

I love awkward moments. Actually I love to say that I love awkward moments- but in all actuality, I am picky about which ones I like. Today I had one of the awkward moments where you grind your teeth back and forth as you ask your self "Why?" a million times. In order for this story to make a bit of sense, I will take you back to last night. My friend Yiran invited me over to her building for a Chinese dinner with some other students in my class! I was soo excited to have real Chinese food plus it was no pressure French-meaning, I could speak French without worrying, because we all have problems. Of course I was wrong. Yiran invited all the neighbors as well-well not all, but three French guys. Bluahkda.... Ok, sort of excited now because the four B1.1 students speak broken French, so its all good, surely they understand. Then when the guy who fixed Yiran's computer network came in, I had an awkward bisous... For anyone reading this a bisous is what the French call their cheek kisses... I remember it was more of an air bisous, rather than the tap on the cheek with my cheek bisous... our cheeks didn't touch and I made an incomplete bisous as I could hardly reach the guy over the table. It was more awkward than I can describe, trust me... and I knew it was pretty awkward when everyone started to giggle. Laughing translates the same through any language. Well, after our dinner, we went to François's room for some cidre and chocolat and enjoyed eachother's company until midnight.
Since I have been studying for finals, I have been a wreck and sooo tired, so when I heard a knock on my door, I assumed it was Nodin (it was a strong Nodin knock and he has been coming to my room off and on today). I was wrong again. It was François. How he found my room, I cannot say. I just remember last night that I guestimated which window was mine. Ok, first, I was caught off guard, second-my room is a mess!!!! Earlier today, I thought I lost my debit card so I threw everything around in my room trying to find it...needless to say it was in my purse the whole time. So back to the story, I quickly jumped outside my door, so François could not see my science experiment of a room. Then, he was talking to me in French. My brain is barely functioning in English right now let alone French. One would think after living here for 5 months, I could carry on a conversation fairly well. This case is not true unless. So every sentence that came out of his mouth was more like "dlkajfoidmak fatigue"....I would get maybe one or two words out of each thought. haha wow! I was soo embarrassed. Then, we parted ways with awkward bisous.

Pictures

I have added pictures that I have been meaning to post to the blogs... recently updated blogs that now have pictures are Girl Next Door, Thanksgiving, and Secret Society!

Je fais trainer les choses (in other words... procrastination)

I have recently discovered that I have eight final exams. Are the French not good at math?-Not true, I live with a few hundred engineers, I know this is not true. But how did they get eight exams out of four classes? Something is wrong. My exams commence this Friday, December 14 at 14h00. Friday is normally my day off. Not only did they take my Friday, but my university stole my Saturday also. I have three exams that start at 08h00 on Saturday morning. Never have I ever heard such a thing! Basically I am venting about this, because I have one day to compose myself before my other elective exams.

I think these exams will probably be the hardest I have ever taken. Not only do I get extreme test anxiety when it comes to French exams, but I don't have my Ellis Library to lock myself up for hours to study (and to focus) nor do I have cafés nearby that stay open late... ahem Starbucks!
I have a small confession to make-I haven't really done much studying since I have been here. I need small tasks to remind me that I am in the class, so this is going to be tougher because in France, normally your final exam is the only grade.

Not good. I should have researched test and grade procedures before I chose my study abroad country.

Other thoughts... My neck is terribly sore and has been since last Wednesday. I think I am going to go to the pharmacy (the French alternative to a doctor) tomorrow to see what they think. Kyle told me I have meningitis-its a lie, I have been vaccinated, but it is still not the sort of thing to tell me.

Below is a picture of all of my postcards that I still have not sent out-they are all written on though. At least I have made it that far.

Lumieres!

First, I would like to apologize to anyone who has been reading my blogs, because I never realized how long they were. Although, if you know me well, you have probably realized that it takes me forever to complete a story and get to the point. Upon reading other blogs, I have discovered that these entries should be the abridged version-not every detail and thought.

At any rate, this last weekend, I went to Lyon for La Fête des Lumières. It is an annual festival to commemorate the Virgin Mary after prayers to her ended a plague in the 1600s. Since it is December, I figured a light festival would entail lots Christmas lights strung out all around the city. Wrong! So La Fête des Lumières, in my opinion, is a city-wide art exhibition. All around town, there are different shows. I took lots of pictures, met Adrien's friends from school, waited thirty minutes for Starbucks, and walked for nine hours, so it was quite a day. I can safely say that I did not have any problems and the weekend was stress-free.


The metros even took part in the celebration with pink lights!


In front of the Lyon Opera


I think this was my favorite. It was a giant stained glass ball and a light would shine through creating a giant kaleidescope effect on the walls.




This is the ferris wheel at Place Bellecour


Snowglobe? You can't really see it, but below it says "I LOVE LYON" and on the back it says "ONLY LYON"

Niki and the terrible, horrible, no good, very bad weekend

I had a bad weekend. A terrible weekend. A terrible, horrible weekend. To be quite honest, it was a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad weekend.
It started off with Chandra and I waking up... hung-over, but needing to leave as soon as possible, because who knew when the next bus was going to come around since one in ten of them were running Thursday thanks to the off and on transportation strike (I def. live in France). It was early in the morning when we got to the bus stop and it was still foggy. Several old people stood around with blank stares facing off towards the left as they all searched for a bus. This scene was straight out of a creepy horror movie. On with the trip... We get to the train station with plenty of time (even after I had to buy a new coat and buy plastic baggies-not to mention deal with the transportation strike). So we had a large breakfast/lunch to calm our stomachs. At this point we mentioned about how great everything was going and then Chandra used the whole Meet the Fockers example when their travels seemed great until the brick flew through his rental car window and he didn't have insurance-it was all downhill from there.
When we got to the Grenoble Airport, we ran into a bit of trouble. Smaller airports are more strict. This one was strict about the liquids. We had them in baggies. Unfortunately the container that my expensive face wash, Chandra's face lotion and eye makeup remover were too large (even though the liquids inside the containers were less than the 100ml max). I begged the security lady to let me pour my facewash into another container and she said no... what a mean lady. This started my mood off great.
Then we get to Stansted. As we are walking to customs, Chandra realizes she no longer has her purple bag that had her ipod, cell phone, wallet, and PASSPORT. It was left on the plane. We reported this loss immediately to the officials and waited as someone "looked" for her life on our plane. No such luck, so they handed her a piece of paper-this was her only sense of identity. We then checked into our hostel. It was nice and I wish I could have experienced more hostels since I have been here. That Thursday evening, we hung out at the police station as Chandra filed a report and cancelled her credit card.
Friday, we spent half of the day at the US Embassy-the ugliest building that we saw in London. After about five hours of waiting around, running around, and taking vows Chandra had a passport. Then we went to the French Consulate to see about a visa. Of course the French consulate would be closed at 3 pm on a Friday afternoon. One man actually opened the door and Chandra explained her problem to him (fortunately she speaks French well enough, because he hardly spoke English) and he explained to her that she needed to email someone or something and fax something to someone and well you get the point, but neither of us had phones (my battery was dead at this point), so he disappeared back into the building. He came back and told her that she would be ok to go back to France, but she would need to return to London to get a new visa. She then told him she leaves in three weeks, so all troubles were over and he told her she was fine. After such a day, we found a cupcake shop and decided to treat ourselves.
At about 5:30 am, I woke up to an alarm on someone's phone. This lasted for about 45 minutes as Chandra tried to wake her up a few times to tell her to turn off her alarm. Later, we went on a free walking tour of London-Free=good! Unfortunately, we saw random places in London...not Buckingham Palace or Harrods! Later that evening, we met with some friends and actually enjoyed some time in London.
Getting back to Grenoble was an adventure as well. We had to leave our hostel at 2 am to wait for a bus that was about 20 minutes late. We weren't sure if it even ran that late, so I made the mistake to go into a fast food restaurant where there were five drunk people and a guy who didn't speak english who tried to help me but they were really curious about where I was from. One guy tried to give me his sprite. Interesting.
So eventually we got to the airport, when we were informed at the security check-in that we were only allowed one bag (including a purse). I had my backpack (completely full of books and clothes), my camera bag, and my purse (also full). I didn't have 32 euro to check the two other pieces of "luggage" in, so my only option was to put on every article of clothing on and try to fit my camera, camera bag, and purse in my small, almost falling apart backpack. So, I after putting on a thermal shirt, a long sleeve shirt, a short sleeve shirt, another longsleeve shirt, a sweater, a cardigan, and a thick sweater, two scarves, and my coat that had three books shoved in the pockets, I was finally allowed to enter in the waiting zone where I baked while I waited to get on my flight.
The trip was probably the worst experience I have had, but probably the most memorable.

Thanksgiving

I never realized how much I took Thanksgiving for granted. Yea, sure, my family is crazy and they drive me insane if I am in their presence for too long, but being away for the holiday made me really homesick. I think this was probably the first time I have felt this way since I have moved to France-actually I think this is the first time I have ever felt this way since I have been out on my own.
I was fortunate enough to be able to celebrate the day of “mercis” in France, so I should be thankful for this. I did not really expect that I would even have this opportunity. So I will describe my evening.
We fêted Thanksgiving at a restaurant called Pumpkins-a very fitting name. The restaurant is owned by an American chef named Bob (a very American name) and his French wife, so we did get American food-not French food that the French think is American. All fourteen of us spread out between two tables in the cute restaurant and chatted over the soft melody of jazz that played in the background. Our first taste was an aperitif with cranberry juice, vodka, and cassis (small tarte red berries) that floated about for decoration. Then we began to receive our plates… one by one they were carried out. I could not wait. I didn’t eat anything the whole day (except for my pain au chocolat- croissant with chocolate swirled around), anticipating this moment. My dish was handed to me, but with my excitement and my inelegance, I nearly crushed the glass that once was filled with my aperitif. Ooops… haha
Everything was purposefully set on the plate and the colors gave my eyes quite the show. I first tasted the white purée, which consisted of parsnips (I know this only because of the last time I visited Pumpkins, Chandra and I spent the night trying to decipher what the flavor of carrots was). Next, I had homemade cranberry sauce, which this was a new experience for me. I am used to the canned stuff that has the consistency of jam. It had the same taste but livelier texture with chunks of real cranberries-It was delicious! I then consumed the turkey. It was good, but just good. This is about the time that I realized it wasn’t really Thanksgiving’s Day. I missed my father’s cooking. My favorite dish for thanksgiving is mashed potatoes-which was replaced by sweet mashed potatoes that had the consistency of baby food. I missed my mother’s mashed potatoes that have chunks of real potatoes (I bet she would never believe that I said I missed her cooking haha). They were still good, just not the same as home. The stuffing on the other hand was amazing. I have never had stuffing that I absolutely loved. To make it better, it had pine nuts… my favorite! The other dish was an onion salad, which wasn’t quite what I would eat, so I abstained. And last but not least, I had homemade applesauce…which reminded me of my grandfather’s. It was great.
After our entrée was devoured, we were then served plates with pecan pie and PUMPKIN pie! My absolute favorite. This is what made my night! I was completely satisfied after that. The pumpkin pie can be described in only one word-perfect! Its texture was like satin and I was pleased to not find chunks of pumpkin in my bites. As if this wasn’t enough, Bob delivered café with bite size portions of carrot cake with sugar frosting.
All in all the evening was nice. It did however remind me how much my family means to me and how hard the holidays will be without them.
More pictures of my dinner

Photo links

I tried for several hours to get my pictures posted on this blog, but it would not work.
Here are some links to the facebook albums:
http://missouri.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2214184&l=f9633&id=15920991
http://missouri.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2214183&l=09a74&id=15920991

Nothing too amazing, just getting used to my new fantastic camera!

Bisous!

The CUEF's Secret Society

So in case you haven't watched the news lately, there is in fact a strike going on in France. Actually, I can't really say much for the US news, but it is all over the French news. This is REAL! It is affecting my life.
Since last Wednesday, I have not had class due to students who have gone on strike, so they have barricaded the doors with bike racks, recycling/trash cans/ and pretty much anything else they could find. The first questions on my mind were "Why bike racks?" and "Why isn't the president of the university not removing the items so I can go to class?" Well, taking a further look at the doors, I realized that these bike racks were not only set in front of the doors, but also locked on with a giant chain. HA! Genius! Anywho, these students can be dangerous apparently and have made it so that no one can get into the building with out threatening. The reason why my classes have been cancelled is for my safety. OK? Where are the police? Well, yea we could get into the school if we really wanted to...someone could take a saw and cut the locks off, but these said students will use force to ensure that I will not learn while they are on strike. If the students use fight back in the building (however they deem necessary), the police are not allowed to enter the university buildings as it is private property.
The whole reason why they are on strike right now is because the universities are becoming more privatized and they will be more selective as to whom they take into their schools, because at this moment, pretty much anyone can go to school and university is virtually free. Tuition will go up with the new bill that has been passed.
So enough of the history of the strike (I could be wrong-these are just things that my professor has told me, and who knows how well my translation is haha), but today class commenced at 8:30... well it sort of started at that time. My program director informed me to meet behind the CUEF building at 8:30 to find out where I would be having class. I wandered passed the students on strike who watched me over their bonfire (aka fire in a metal bin) that they had going to keep them warm while they made sure no one got into the buildings. When I safely arrived to the back, I met with my professor and she told us to go to Hôtel de Ville (city hall). When we arrived there, she drove past and told us that they changed our location so we needed to meet at Verdun Prefecture (just another walk around town). So my class and I trekked through the city together and waited to find out where we were to go next. Meanwhile, it was about 0 degrees celcius/32 degrees farenheit and we are waiting outside on a secret mission. After waiting for about 20 minutes outside, we walk across the plaza into an old school building that is in the process of being renovated. I could smell gasoline as I entered into the dim lobby. The saumon colored paint was chipping off of the walls in large loose leaf paper sized chunks. We wandered around the building for about 20 more minutes deciding which classroom we would take over (switching back and forth from classroom to classroom due to class sizes).
Finally, class began at about 9:45 am. We talked about the strike until about 11:30 and then took an exam.
Tomorrow, I have class at 8:30 as well. I am supposed to do this whole routine again, but there is another problem as it is supposed to be a big day of strikes. Pretty much anyone who works for the state (ie professors (not mine), postal service, and TRANSPORTATION) will be on strike and marching about in town. I live about 15 minutes by bus from campus, but by walking it is probably about an hour long walk. Not to mention that it is freezing outside and it is supposed to rain. When my professor asked me where I lived, she told me that I could walk to class (but this was also when we thought we were supposed to meet at Verdun), hmm... We'll see if I make it to class, this may be one day where I will have to bail out if it is raining/freezing/and random manifestations in the streets.
I do appreciate the fact that the CUEF has been so attentive to this situation as we are paying a large amount of money for our classes (as opposed to the French students). It is nice that even though students are on strike, they are trying to make this situation work so that we can learn. So I will definitely write more to keep everyone updated.
Below are some pictures of the blocking and the graffiti


front entrance


translation: We block all (perhas a bit broken translation?)


translation: blockade sabotage


side entrance

Invaders: Level One Tourists!

Saturday morning all 14 CEA students staggered onto a large bus to head down to the south of France for our first excursion as a group. On our agenda was the Pont du Gard and then to Aigues Mortes where we would meet up with other CEA students who are studying in France (from Aix-en-Provence and from Nice). The Pont du Gard was nice, but I would have enjoyed it more without the wind. Then we arrived outside Aigues Mortes, parked the bus, and walked into the city. Aigues Mortes is a small town that relies heavily on tourism and a bit on its sea salt production and home made wine (which is then put in a recycled water bottle-> very potent! Don't let its bottle fool you). The city is surrounded by a city wall which used to be used to defend itself from invaders. Today, it is mainly a tourist attraction. This weekend just so happened to be Aigues Mortes' annual festival with rides, gardians (cowboys), and bulls! The trouble all began after the boys decided to drink the wine. A few bottles later (after the boys tried to play chicken with the bulls in the bull ring), the bull run began in the streets. This is where they let out seven bulls at a time run down the streets with two-three gardians on white horses block them from attacking the viewers. This was fun, I was running in front, risking my life and limbs so that I could take pictures. With all the excitement (and wine), one of the students from our group decided to jump in front of the horsemen and the bull when he was knocked off and thrown onto the sidewalk. After this an elderly lady of about 140 years old began to shout at him about how he could have been hurt. This is about the time where he should have apologized and moved on, but he shouted back.
So if letting crazy bulls out in the streets was not enough, the entire town (which was pretty much drunk by 7 pm) had a huge party in the center of town with a concert. We were advised to stay away from the stage and stay out of anyone's way... so basically we were only allowed to stand and look pretty... better yet, lock ourselves up in our hotel room. After dinner we went out to a pub across from the concert and danced with a few locals. After this and a few more drinks, we ended up at the concert (where we were basically advised to stay away from) where Rory, the strongest guy (body builder-literally) in our group was nearly in a fight after asking where all the single ladies were in the town and then asking the guy what his girlfriends name was... obviously there was a bit of confusion. Off to the side of the concert I noticed a girl from my group throwing toilet paper at the band.... she is probably the smallest one in the group... she could have easily been killed. My nerves were going all over the place, so I finally called it a night after getting hundreds of dirty looks by the locals.
The next morning, we finished breakfast at the hotel and left for our bus. Unfortunately, our bus driver frantically came running back to stop us. What can possibly go wrong now, I thought. Oh yea, our bus was robbed. Some kids busted in the window stole the bus driver's keys to his car and house, his car registration with his address on it, and his dental bridge (gross). This damage is going to cost him hundreds of dollars. I ended up organizing a donation from the other students and myself to help, but it barely made a dent in what he will have to pay.
So this weekend of high hopes turned into a lesson learned: Don't impose on local traditions.
Did I mention I did get to see the pink flamingos, white horses, and the cowboys that I was looking forward to. Thank goodness something came out of this!

Back to the Basics

When I was at the wee age of 6, I loved getting substitutes. They were virtually babysitters-we just watched movies, played with glitter, and they made sure we didn't eat the glue. Well yesterday, I met Madame Hélène. . . my substitute for the rest of the week. She is shorter and fluffier than my Madame Christine and one of the first things she warned us about was her lazy eye. . . so my initial thoughts were "this will be fun." That was also the day that I didn't finish my homework so I asked if I could turn it in tomorrow, but I lied and said "I left it in another notebook." hmm... she was fine with this as well... I don't know where my feelings of apprehension came from, but I believe it was the moment she handed out a hand-out for us to read. I was first and she passed the entire stack of papers to me. I thought I was supposed to pass the rest of them down to everyone else, but when I did not say "merci," she ripped them out of my hands and scolded me-teaching me the lesson of manners. haha So there we were... all sitting in a semi-circle, with Madame Hélène going around the room making sure that we each thanked our neighbor for giving us a piece of paper that we would work on until it was completely exhausted and work on it for homework. It is amazing how many things someone can think of to do with an article about how architects are planning on changing the world by creating new structures to conserve energy (find the words you don't understand and underline them so that we can discuss them for an hour- change the title, create a new introduction, and for homework just summarize it). I am soo over substitutes... and I think this may be a first... having a substitute, in college? hmmm
Later that afternoon, I attended Vocabulaire, and Madame Elsa is pretty much crazy. I never know what to expect, but she is so sweet. Towards the end of class, we were throwing balls of paper at eachother across the room while yelling expressions of fear in French. It was fun, a little awkward, but fun. I felt like a kid again.
Hélène and the paper balls made me realize how I am basically in elementary school. I am studying the fundamentals of French. Yes, it is difficult for me. Looking at my homework, and thinking about what I am actually working on and then looking back at the time frame that I worked on this was probably dated circa 1994. I am sure my morning phone calls to Adrien to figure out if I did the homework right are so frustrating for him. I screwed up possessive pronouns? That gets me inside time (lab assignment) while all my friends are playing on their break. Well, I guess the basic point about this is I feel like I am in elementary school-not that it is bad but it is not good either, just familiar.

Oh yea, did I mention I had the opportunity to go parapente! Basically I jumped off a mountain with a man stuck to my back and a bunch of fabric and a bag stuck to his. It was soo great! I love Grenoble!


Here are some pictures from my parapent experience (they aren't in order)

thats me flying away


taking off


Waiting


Getting ready!


That is the view that I had and those are my feet to give you a bit of perspective


This is my fantastic view of the village


This is the man stuck on my back... he was fun, I don't remember his name though

Picture Links

For those of you who don't facebook, here are links to my photos... paris, grenoble, and aix (I have some pictures from Switzerland so I will post them later)

Aix
http://missouri.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2202065&l=19124&id=15920991

Grenoble (and some paris)
http://missouri.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2196462&l=71f70&id=15920991

London (and some paris)
http://missouri.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2191356&l=84c10&id=15920991

Paris
http://missouri.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2191355&l=04a34&id=15920991

Things that make me go hmm...

Boys who wear headbands, aging, celebrations for new tramlines, and... public restrooms (for dogs)
Grenoble is a very special town. It is not too large and it is not too small... Parfait! Each day is a new surprise as I discover more things to ponder. Headbands are nice accessories... if you are a girl. In France, it seems to be acceptable for the men to wear them. Although this should not come as a surprise since French men are notorious for their sense of fashion (I mean this in the nicest way-honest!). Today, I was sitting on a tram and I noticed a guy wearing, not just a headband used to hold his hair back for sports, but this guy was wearing the sort of headband that was cool about 8-12 years ago that was just a circle of thin zig-zags. hmm....
Second thought of the hour... Grenoble has a lot of old people...or is it just France in general that has a lot... I don't know, but the last Sunday that I was here, I had the worst reality check of my life- wrinkles do exist! In the US we are sheltered from this epidemic as plastic surgery has become a social norm... I will be the first to admit that I do plan on investing in this trend. I have never seen soo many old people in one place...Yes, I am saying this and I know how odd this must sound, but I was really freaked out by this. It is no wonder that Grenoble has one of the only research plants in the world that is working to find a cure for aging (without plastic surgery!) Inconceivable! At anyrate, the senior citizens in France have priority... which they should. I was at the supermarket the other day, and of course the lines were crazy, so I waited in my usual line...the handicap line (which means if a handicap person comes along and wants to check out there, they can cut you)...normally, I have great luck here and no one comes ahead of me. This particular day, the friendly lady behind me noticed the older couple who were "oh la la-ing" about the long lines, so she invited them to cut in front of me because they have priority as she pointed to the wheelchair sign above my head. Ok this was fine, but then another older gentleman discovered this and came behind the couple. Beside this long line, was a younger man in a wheelchair... This was probably the longest amount of time spent in line to check out five items at the supermarket... I was just a little frustrated. Another nice thing that I have noticed is that even the "thuggiest" of boys give up their seats to the senior citizens on the trams and buses...it is soo nice to see this.
Random tidbit about my town: We have (excuse me had) three trams that traveled around the city until last weekend. Unfortunately, i was out of town for this exciting addition to the city, but there have been posters and signs and fliers, and anything else possible to publicize the new D line! oooo! Not only that, but Grenoble had a party, complete with aperatifs at each stop that this new D tram goes to. . . I haven't really figured out what is so exciting about this tram-it only has four stops. I would be happier if it wasn't a 5+ walk from my residence hall, but I still find the bus more convenient.
The last tidbit about my town... dogs are soo popular here that they even have their own public restrooms... special parks on the streets that are fenced off so the dogs can go to the bathroom. This is supposed to be an attempt to eliminate the surprises in the streets... which often lead to me playing hopscotch in order to avoid such unpleasant messes.
So, pretty much my town is AMAZING!

Practically Royalty

Well, I figured that I have written about enough negative adventures, so I am going to point out everything amazing in my life right now...
Finally, everything seems to be going just right here in Grenoble and my life seems like it is out of a fairy tale. I finally have a home-I live in Résidence Houille Blanche, which is a residence hall built in the 60s for the engineering school, so if one can only imagine, I am living in the equivalent of UMR, but with lots of smart, soon to be rich, French engineers (visitors are welcome to come to my Utopia, but my bed is very very small). My residence hall was practically built with me in mind since I have a dark room and an art studio in my building. I also have a swimming pool, ping pong table, music room (with piano), party room, and a role playing room (I can only imagine what this is for haha). It is perfect! Did I mention that I have a maid?!-my room gets cleaned by someone else...it can't get any better!
My classes are great and I can't say that I would really change anything about them. I take ten hours of just French grammar each week, plus three hours of electives and two hours of vocabulary. I am the only American in my grammar class, so I have mastered understand the Korean and Chinese accent when French is spoken. Phrases like "je travaille" have turned into "zhe trahbaiye" or "je voudrais" is "zhe boudrais." And the language spoken by the natives that is otherwise melodic is now choppy and short. This was a great challenge in the beginning, but I have now overcome this and I love my classmates.
I have found a great bar in town where I am pretty much VIP... The London Pub. I have been there just a few times, but the bar owner (or manager... don't really know about this) knows my friends and me and offers us free shots. We are also so close that we can even "faire le bisous"-the famous French greeting of kisses on the cheeks to our new friend at the bar. Each time we go there, we are greeted by the sweet bartender from England who says things like "cheers love!"
Another great thing that I am looking forward to is this weekend! My friend Crystal and I managed to find cheap train tickets to Aix-en-Provence for the weekend... can life get any more beautiful? Of course it can... because I also forgot to mention how there are icecream shops on every corner of my city.... HEAVEN!

Blending In: Lesson 1) The Euro-Mullet

Last Thursday was seemingly perfect day-sunny and warm, garden party at the Fairholme House (the house where 8 of the CEA American students live/my temp home), and not to mention my excursion to St. Tropez that I would soon embark on later that evening. I decided to skip class Thursday, because Lindsey wanted to get her hair cut and insisted that I come along with her. I went, because it was one of those things that sounded like a good idea at the time. If I could change my actions knowing that the end result would be horrendous, I would have stayed in class. We found a hair salon called Jean Louis David that appeared very chic and clean so we went there. The large photo in the window was the same hair cut that I have, so I figured this could be a good time to get my hair trimmed so that I would only have to point at a picture and it would be done. I could not have been more wrong.
It was weird from the moment we stepped in the salon as there was a young man… perhaps 18 years old sweeping up the floor who directed us upstairs when we told him we wanted a hair cut. We were then wrapped in white robes… giving the feeling of being in an upper class hair salon… hmm? Ok so the young boy washed my hair and it was the most awkward hair washing session that I have ever had- I could just tell he had no clue on how to wash my hair. So after 10 minutes of being very uncomfortable, I was sent downstairs and greeted-if I could really call it that- by a twenty something French man who wore a mullet with very short bangs (think beetlejuice). The man was very unfriendly to his assistants and he was the only stylist working at the time. Lindsey’s hair was almost finished, but I did not get to see the end product until it was too late. At this point, I had a razor that would normally be used to shave a man’s hair to shear my hair.
This was weird, but I went along with it, because I don’t know the techniques used here in France. Everything seemed like it could go ok…not great, but just ok (something I could work with in the end) until he asked me if I liked my “bit”-the piece that is my signature look, the long side piece. Of course I said yes… and then he took the razor and sheared my hair some more but now removing my “bit” leaving me with the most random hair cut in the world that can only be compared to Joe Dirt! Business in the front and party in the back! I am now adorning a mullet! Yes- I am bringing it back. The schizo hair stylist (if he is even certified to be one) gave me bangs that start from the back of my head and thin hair all around the bottom and where my “bit” was is now a chunk of bangs… so one side of my bangs are now thicker than the other side… its more a reverse of what I had.
I didn’t even know what to do, but when I exited the hair salon I just bawled uncontrollably. I cried the from the second I exited the salon until I arrived at the Fairholme House, receiving some very weird looks on the streets and making a complete scene on the tram.

Below are pictures of what my hair should have been and what it actually looks like... that is the picture that was in the window!

On being Sans Domicile Fixe

If you don’t know what “sans domicile fixe” means, it is a term used to descrive homeless. Better yet, I am homeless in France in a city where I barely speak the language and know no way around town. Actually it is not as bad as it seems, I am not living in a gutter somewhere nor am I begging for food or euros from strangers. I am residing, for the moment, at Hôtel Europe, which is located in downtown Grenoble.
It all happened when I first arrived and waited for an hour and a half at the wrong bus station in Grenoble looking for a taxi-whch there were none and the next taxi could only make it to the train station by 4:00 pm- so I was off to a stressful start. I managed to find out that there was a train going to the main train station, so I jumped on to find out my original housing plans were no longer where I would be living. Crystal, another CEA student who was living in the same residence hall as me, waited outside the train station for me with as our advisor dropped some other students off in a taxi. So we went to this other residence hall that was about 45 minutes away from our campus by using the tram (which our other residence hall was literally on campus and five minutes away). Patrick, our advisor, argued with the lady at the front desk about our mode of payment since we have already paid CEA who paid the people at the original residence hall (so he needed to get money back from them to pay the other people). This went on for about an hour and we finally checked out the rooms
They were not too bad-just remodeled! We entered and they were very very small. The first thing I noticed is that I didn’t have a bed… oh wait the bed gets pulled down from the ceiling. My best way to describe the mattress is that it reminded me of being a baby… the hard foam with the plastic that covered and protected the exterior. I sucked it up, knowing that this is what I should expect as I was living in a residence hall in France and not the Hilton. This was all a part of the cultural experience right?
Not until we found out that we shouldn’t go anywhere north of where we were past dark… since basically everything is north as we lived in a suburb of Grenoble. In order to meet with the other students in the program or do anything we had to pass this special area, which in the states it would be the government funded housing or the ghetto. We were warned to look out for guys who carried small man purses from Louis Vuitton or Prada as those were not used for money or cell phones, but for guns- especially going through that neighborhood.
Crystal and my parents freaked out because we have paid $10,000 to this program and this is what happened. Well they also didn’t understand that it had nothing to do with CEA and they were doing their best to find us new homes. So they basically demanded that we get out of that residence hall and move into a hotel until they found something.
You can bet there were a few awkward moments with our advisor after he received a phone call from the VP of CEA.
So we are staying at the hotel for the weekend and Sunday afternoon we are moving in the Fairholm House- which is a house that has 8 CEA students already in it. We will be crashing on mattresses in the huge house, sharing two bathrooms with 10 students for a week until we get to move into another residence hall (if it even has any openings). Think The Real World.

Language is my new favorite game

Well, here I am... exactly one week before school begins and one day before I leave for my new home! I am excited and I cannot wait to meet new people.
At the moment I have been struggling to communicate...yes, I have a problem with this! It is so much harder to communicate when one's vocabulary is soo limited. At dinner with Adrien's family and family friends I sit in the corner with a blank face and eat or drink as much as possible avoiding any direct conversation or eye contact. I only speak when I am spoken to.
I have tried to be active in the conversations, but my participation has only given the table a good laugh.
I hear a few words and try to put them together the best that I can and voila! blurt out the first thought. It is sort of like the Rorschach inkblot tests and at those random times where I took the initiative to join the world in conversation, I made it a game to see how close I could actually get.
The most vivid example of this is when we (Adrien, Adrien's father, his friend Nicole, and myself) were gathered around the table for dinner. The previous topic was religion, so when I heard the words "Bible Belt" come from Adrien's father and then "protestant, catholic" exit out of Nicole's mouth- my first reaction was to say "Ah oui... les baptists" haha having no idea what was going on in the conversation... Adrien's father handled this well and tried to make me feel...well normal as he repeated baptist as if that word belonged with the others, but Nicole and Adrien looked soo puzzled and began to laugh.
The actual topic was about French engagements vs. American engagements (for marriage) and how the US is more traditional when it comes to this especially in the bible belt. haha wow can you imagine how awkward this was.
With this vow of silence that I have involuntarily taken, I have had a lot of time to myself. It gives me time to think about things I want to do, things I need to do, and about life.
Another side to this is how I try to blend in... I don't like to speak English that much in public, because it becomes so obvious that I am in fact American. My favorite is when we were in Paris and we would be in public with Adrien and Nicole or Adrien, Nicole, and his father and everyone would be speaking in French. I felt as though I blended into society-even though I understood maybe a few of the words out of the conversation.
Another thought- It is extremely hard to switch back and forth from English to French. By the end of the day I am completely exhausted!!! There are moments where the conversation between me and Nicole or Adrien's father would be in English...then either one of the two would start a conversation between eachother or with Adrien in French only to surprise me with a question in French... If I am not paying attention- I miss the question and appear rude having to ask for a repeat.
Even ordering food has become stressfull... but it is the only thing I really know how to do! Either I will return to the states fluffier or emaciated. I hope it is the second one, especially with my anxiety of ordering haha. I know I should be excited to put the last 2 years of what I have learned in college to practice, but to be honest, I didn't learn that much. What I did learn, I lost over the second year due to a great teacher last fall who thought he could teach us French speaking only in English and not encouraging participation.
There still is hope and I am not completely mute- there are just some moments where I find it more practical to keep my mouth shut. My French is improving and once my classes begin, I will become better.

Just My Luck

Monday afternoon I arrived at the airport loaded with enough luggage for six months and for once in my life, I was calm. Chandra and I waited in line to check our luggage in and at this point, going to France was still unreal.
What made this concept less real is that our flight did not even exist! The sweet lady with an accent at the luggage desk informed us that our travel agent changed our flight and did not tell us. At this point you can imagine what is running through my mind. Just as I predicted- my luck has yet again created a complicated situation.
Here is what happened: Our travel agent booked our flight through STA Travel- who apparently sent her an email to an invalid address informing her that our flight had been changed (note to self- these things happen often with Air Canada and United, so do not rely on your travel agent to inform you). So when we were in the travel agent’s office exactly one week prior to our departure to check on our seats, she was unaware of this situation. The change was made July 6- the date at this point was August 20... She had plenty of time to determine if this was still the flight that we would be on- Blames were thrown on everyone and no one wanted to take the credit for this unfortunate event.
Long story short- the sweet lady at the luggage counter got us on another flight to Paris for 10 am the next morning, so Chandra and I rested in a hotel near the airport. It turned out to be nice to actually relax for a day-hot tub, pool, bed, awesome pillows, and free drinks. Of course, I did want to be in Paris, but waiting was the only solution-even after staying on the phone with the travel agency and STA Travel for hours trying to see if we could get compensated. We didn’t even get help for our hotel.
Oh yes, did I mention that I was sick during all of this... I had a great time getting from point A to B.

All my bags are packed... I'm ready to go

. . . and there is definitely no turning back now. Somehow I already feel homesick-if that makes any sense. I am in Columbia right now, nearly two hours away from my family and it has only been six hours and I already miss them terribly. I am still in Missouri, I haven't left yet, but I want to see them so badly! Wow, is this a bad indicator of how my semester is going to be? I am not at home, because I will be hitching a ride from Columbia to the airport. My father has to teach a class and I can guarantee my mother would be too much of an emotional mess to make it back to Lebanon safely, so this is how it goes!
One thing on my mind is that tomorrow is a Monday... this is usually the day where my week starts off sour, I have some huge crisis occur and it somehow becomes resolved by Thursday-ish, so I am concerned about what could possibly go wrong this week. I know that I must sound so pessimistic, but I am normally in good spirits, I just vent about the things that bother me.
New Goal: sound more positive!
The whole reality that I am actually going to be in France (and for 6 months) has not sunken in yet. I am a bit weirded out by this. I keep asking myself what is the normal feeling of someone who is studying abroad. I guess I couldn't really categorize everyone who is studying abroad as a whole.
Other thoughts....Ok this one is completely irrelevant to the topic at hand. I got a haircut (wow thats random right?). I can't really decide if I like it or not. I wanted to grow my hair out, Curtis somehow mixed up "I want to keep my length" with "chop off my hair," so now I have necklength hair again. Its nice, just not what I wanted.... but I guess I can't really say that because I didn't really want anything. I am ok with it, i just don't love it. Perhaps if I knew how to do it.
I guess those are the most recent random thoughts before I depart.

Update on the greatest luck ever

Ok well, I managed to get everything fixed. Imagine that! After several frantic calls and emails to Campus France and the Consulate in Chicago, everything worked out. I woke up Monday morning and called Campus France. I knew that there would be some understanding of French that would be necessary when conducting such work, but I had hoped that there was some sort of a warning... an automated service offering me a choice for Français or English would have been helpful under my conditions. I had just woken up and called to hear the voice of a lady speaking French. I was not prepared, but I tried my hardest with my worst accent possible I declared "J'ai une probleme!" She obviously was not impressed by pronunciation/accent or somehow she knew that I was American, so she immediately announced that she spoke English. I was so relieved, because my thoughts were so muffled with the idea that I may not be able to go to France. She reassured me that everything would be ok, and I began to feel much better. I was advised to overnight my fee and proof that I have been accepted by Stendhal and when I arrive at the consulate, I was to bring an express envelope, since my attestation would not be completed by Wednesday.
Chicago was a long drive to make for a day trip. My father, who had been driving since 4 am with my brother, had arrived at 6 am and we made it to Chicago at about 1--> two hours early for my appointment, so we got to walk around the busy town and watch the tourists. PS Chicago is beautiful! I went to my appointment and had to explain my missing attestation to the lady who issued the visas. I was jokingly scolded by one of the assistants about how I should have done my homework and then I went on my way.
Luckily to say, everything is better...much better! I feel great. Now I am back to my original concern: the student loans.
Today I also received the news of my housing arrangements and I am happy to say that I will be living in a residence hall. I cannot wait. Also, the strangest part is I met a girl who is participating in the same program as me on facebook, so we have been chatting all summer- she is my housemate (or at least I think so) either way we are in the same residence, so I am super excited

Moving Day

Well, today is my last day living in East Campus. It was quite the experience- I will miss everything that went wrong in my house (no heat, no a/c, no electricity, flooding toilets) and I will miss my very interesting neighbors- the scary one down below, the creepy one next door to him, and of course the dealer above.
I am almost moved out of my house: just my suit cases with my clothes, some of my photos, and my shower stuff. I am just waiting for the girl to take my bed and I will be done. Is it weird that I am going to miss my bed? I really did like it... a lot. I am just so tired of moving it around everywhere and this time, I would not have enough room or any way to bring it to my parents' house. I will remember it fondly *sigh*

Second thought, where has my roommate been? I know he said he was going on a float trip somewhere on a river for the weekend. He left early Friday morning and he mentioned that he would be home by Sunday... or was it Monday? Whenever it was, the lease ends today and he has so much to do! I don't know how he is going to manage all the work. I know I am getting my stuff out and I am leaving. I have waaaay too much to do today and I cannot help. It's his fault for playing when we have to move. I have no sympathy. I have tried to call him several times, but his phone is turned off, so this makes me wonder if he is ok? I am sure he is fine, its Tim.
So I have decided to post a few pictures of all of the rest of the house and things we have to do before we leave