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