I made it home!! I've been home for about a week, and it's taken that long to adjust to American culture. After six weeks in Brittany, we all prepared to leave our new homes and families and head for the city of lights and of love, Paris. I had dinner with my host parents and Monique's aunt and uncle (who were stranded in Brest with us) for my last night in Brittany. We talked and laughed so much, and we ate even more. Dinner started with melon, nuts, galettes, and meat with cheese. We had a dish of veggies with cheese and tomato sauce, then toast with ham, cheese, and spices, then salmon with rice and a veggie cake, then cookies and fruit for dessert! And bread of course. The French have no fear of carbs. Their little dog, who had growled at me every time I tried to pet him during our RV trips, came up and let me scratch his ears!! He barked at me when I stood up from the table, but I'm trying to forget that. I want to remember only the happy times in our relationship. Monique's aunt and uncle gave me their address so that I could write to them.
We left their house about midnight and I went home to sleep in my bed for the last time. I could feel my throat tighten as I said goodnight to Monique and Dominique and headed for my bedroom. I took my time getting ready for bed. I knew this night would come, but that knowledge didn't make the reality any easier. My packed suitcases had been a constant reminder of how little time I had left. As I crawled in bed, I felt the tears coming, but I fell asleep so quickly that they never came. This summer was so much more than an academic experience. I miss my host family fiercely. I keep up with them on Facebook -my host sister just had her baby!- but it isn't the same as living with them like their own child.
The next morning, I wasn't my normal groggy self when my alarm went off. I lay in bed trying to believe that this was my last time in my room. I dressed slowly and sat on my bed for a while. I had breakfast for the last time with my parents. We weren't very talkative. I felt like I had so much to say but no words. Dominique put my luggage in the car before they took me to meet the rest of my group. When we neared the meeting place, I thought, "I'm gonna cry. I am so gonna cry." When we got out of the car though, I was holding it together well and was distracted by moving my luggage to the bus and saying hello to the other students. We talked for maybe twenty minutes with the students, families, and our professors. When Larry called us all to the bus, it was at least five more minutes before anyone made a move away from their family. Any hopes I had of not crying flew out the window once I saw Monique crying. Aw, man. I thanked my parents as well as I could and gave my last kisses and half-hugs. The French aren't real touchy (gee, could I tell stories about that), but when Monique kissed my cheek the last time, she held me close with an arm tight around me. That counts as a hug, right?
We reluctantly found seats on the bus and continued to wave to our families. Dominique waved and Monique blew me kisses. As we pulled out of the parking lot, it was impossible to distinguish between the laughing and crying. We passed around tissues and laughed with each other. One boy shared his "J'aime la Bretagne" teddy bear with a girl who already missed her family terribly. As we got on the highway, we were passed by a host family with rolled down windows to wave to their student. That brought another wave of tears and funny and touching stories of our families. Doesn't that sound ridiculous? We were emotional wrecks, but see how affected we were by our time with these families?
Our first stop was at Versailles. Oh. My. Word. Can you say "extravagant?" There were hundreds of rooms, each with a domed ceiling and intricate crown moulding. There are extensive gardens and a cathedral inside the palace! We had about two hours to see what we could. There was a crazy amount of people in there, so we moved with the crowd. Oh! We saw some Americans. We heard some too. As we waited outside with other student groups, there was a group from the States behind us. We heard the leader say, "Alright, everyone. Don't let any other groups come between us. Stay together and push!" As they hurried through the rest of the groups and to the front of the line shouting, "Push! Push!" we look at each other, astonished. On peut faire ça?! On peut pas faire ça!! You can't do that. They weren't let in before the other groups, and when we walked past, there were several in my group who shouted, Poussez! Poussez! (Push! Push!)
We continued on towards Paris, and there were many shouts as we saw the Eiffel Tower in the distance. "We're really here! We're really in Paris!!" We had a tour of the major sights of the city before taking the metro for the first time for our dinner at the youth hostel. When we were full and happy, we headed back into the city for a boat ride along the Seine. We glided through a Paris that seemed magical with the sparkling Tower and musicians playing for small audiences along the river. As we drifted under a bridge glimmering with the metal locks of lovers to symbolize the strength and permanence of their love, the girl seated next to me exclaimed, "La vie est vraiment belle!" (Life is truly beautiful!)
Our next few days were packed with activity. We left the hostel early each morning and never returned before midnight. One of my favorite moments was the night we all climbed the Arc de Triomphe. The city was lit up underneath us as we stood in the middle of the biggest roundabout I've ever seen. The twelve streets make a star-like shape as they meet the Arc. One of my professors sat a group of us girls down to tell us a story he knew we would adore. He was nineteen when he first came to Paris. The first thing he did was climb the Arc de Triomphe, and as he reached the top, there was a man proposing to his girlfriend. That was the moment he fell in love with Paris.
My favorite day was the last full day we had before we left France. We arrived at the Louvre at nine in the morning. We were there as a student group and were supposed to stay with our professors. Once we were inside, we gathered very very closely to listen to what Larry wanted to whisper to us. He said that once we climbed the stairs to our right, he would discreetly pull off his "group leader" nametag and we would disperse as if we didn't know each other. Since we didn't have individual tickets, we were supposed to play it smart, not make eye contact with museum employees, and fumble around in our purses for a long time if they asked to see our tickets. "I know it's in here somewhere..."
When Larry finished his instructions, he said they would see us at six. Nine hours in Paris?! Sweet!! We wandered the Louvre for several hours; it is a massive museum. My favorite piece was a sculpture of Psyche and her god. Till We Have Faces, anyone? Ah, it was beautiful. When we saw all we wanted to (and several hundred other pieces), we bought macaroons and had lunch in the gardens in front of the museum. We took the metro to the Père Lachaise Cemetary to seek out some familiar names like Oscar Wilde and Edith Piaf. We cracked up after trying to explain to an American man how to find Jim Morrison's grave. He approached us and said "Jim Morrison?" and pointed to his tshirt, which displayed the rocker's visage. We supplemented our French instructions, which he didn't understand, with hand gestures.
After a few hours and tons of walking, we boarded the metro for the modern art museum the Centre Pompidou. We chatted with another group before spending some time exploring the museum. I've never been able to decide how I feel about modern art, but I know I enjoyed the museum. Then we headed for the Champs Elysees in search of the Haagen Dazs we saw during our tour of Paris. There we spent almost 63 euros on ice cream. No regrets. We met up with the rest of our group and our professors for our last dinner together, and -surprise! It was at a karaoke bar!! Since it was our last night, we were allowed to sing in English. There were some goofy song choices; all the boys (including the profs) sang Avril Lavine's "Complicated."
When we got back to the hostel, we shared all the soda that was leftover from our goodbye party with our Breton families. One kid brought a portable scale which was passed frantically around many of the girls' rooms. We had some issues with heavy suitcases as we tried to check bags at the airport the next morning. Boy, was that an experience. There was a self check-in that didn't work with any of our passports, so three Air France women signed us in one by one. The line to check luggage took as long as a French dinner. By the time all our luggage was checked and we raced through security, we had no more than ten minutes before our flight took off. We ran through the airport (which isn't small). At least we didn't have to sit long on the plane before it left the runway! Again, we were spread out in the plane, but that didn't keep us from talking to each other- but this time it was in French! There were a few words spoken in English, but our American accents were so strange! Needless to say, we spoke in French for most of the flight. I tried a few times to speak in English, but it was near impossible, so I gave up. My responses were short, like "fine," but often they came out in French before I knew what I said. It was the strangest experience; I couldn't get my mind or my lips to form my native language. I didn't worry but just stuck to French.
It didn't prove to be a problem till I got to customs in Chicago. I walked with my open passport to the counter where the officer asked way too quickly "how it was going." I felt my eyes get bigger as I repeated slower in my head what he had said. How....how's it...going. Oh! "Good." Then somehow something French slipped out, and he asked, without smiling, "You trying to speak French with me?" Oops. Then I tried to explain in English that I hadn't spoken English for several months. He asked me way too many questions than I was comfortable with or could answer with my less than proficient English. In the middle of a story I was telling him about reaching across the table during French dinners, he said, "Accepted," and gave me my passport back. Phew.
All the students and professors met up to get our luggage and make our last goodbyes (mostly in French). My family was there to pick me up! I wish I could have told them how much I missed them. They were so patient as I tried to translate from French what I wanted to say. We met my grandparents, aunt, and uncle for dinner, and conversation was a little easier. I had eaten a small portion of my salad when I realized everyone else had finished. Man, we eat quickly here.
It was wonderful and bizarre to be home. First, I was afraid of my Labs when I first saw them. THEY'RE HUGE! Walking into my bedroom was strange. I had been so far and done so much, but my room hadn't changed at all. The rest of the evening was great; my mom and I sat in my room going through all the treasures I had brought back. I had almost an entire suitcase for the cookies I had!
I wore shoes in the house for the first few days. The French always have shoes on in the house, and I didn't like how my carpet felt on my feet. I didn't eat much the first few days back; my stomach was angry every time I tried to give it too many preservatives or too much sugar. Now I'm all over the cheeseburgers and brownies. I missed those.
I've stayed in touch with lots of students from my group. Maybe next week I'll get together with some girls to make macaroons! I've also stayed in touch with my family in Brittany. I'm hoping to study abroad in college, maybe back to France. I would love to see them again!! Until then, we will continue to send letters and Facebook messages.
This summer was the best and hardest experience of my life. I didn't expect to work so hard and have my heart grow to love so many people. The heartache for France is much stronger than I anticipated. knew we had a lot of homework and I would often be up late studying, but until I had time here to rest, I didn't realize how much material we raced through.
Thank you all so much for supporting me throughout my time in France. I cannot express how much your letters meant to me. They got me through this summer!! And thank you to everyone who kept up with this blog. I loved sharing my thoughts and experiences with you, and I hope you enjoyed it too!
Love, Kate
Saturday, August 4, 2012
Thursday, July 19, 2012
Never Have I Ever Hitch-Hiked
Last post in France! Crazy. Oh, how I long for more time here. At the same time, I am ready to be home again with you all. I cannot believe how quickly this summer went by, but it feels like I've been here forever.
I've started this post several times, and I'm not sure why my words are coming so slowly today. I could blame it on how little I use English, but I think there is more to it. Sometimes, it truly is easier to think in French. My memory can't distinguish between the two languages anymore. Earlier I remembered a conversation I had yesterday, but I remembered it in English. After only two weeks here I remembered something my dentist told me, but in my mind she spoke in French (as far as I know, she only speaks English...).
I've been pretty tired this week too. There has been much preparation for our time in Paris and our departure for the US. Whoo! Today at school we went over the logistiques for our Paris excursion. My profs are crazy. I don't know what they were thinking when they agreed to be responsible for 32 teenagers in PARIS. On va voir.... There were at least 20 minutes of stories about pickpockets and their various techniques. We went over what to do if only half of your group makes it on the metro before the door closes. When we started to talk about the youth hostel we'll be staying in, we asked if the bathrooms were like the ones in the hostel in Normandy (There was one toilet per floor and a separate room with showers, like a locker room). We all cheered when the profs told us there was a bathroom in each room. How spoiled we'll be!
I'll wake up early Saturday morning to say my goodbyes and meet the other students and our profs. Since the third week here, I've felt like throwing my feet out in front of me to keep time from pulling me any closer to the end of my time here. We leave at 7:30 for our last excursion, but I'm sure it will be our best. We'll drive to Versailles and spend a few hours there before heading to Paris itself. Louis XIV wanted to be distant from Paris; life in the city was too inconvenient for him. After touring France's major chateaux (and even staying in the Louvre), he wasn't satisfied and ordered Versailles to be constructed. I hear it is almost ridiculous in its luxury, but I can tell you for myself in a week or so.
Sunday we get to visit the Sainte-Chapelle (so excited, Mama Z!!) then take a tour of the city on the Seine. I'm hoping to get a crepe or two as we wait for the Tour de France to pass by. Isn't that awesome?! I'll be sure not to blink; Larry said the whole thing passes by in two minutes. After that we'll see the Tour Eiffel, then head to the Latin Quarter for dinner and some free time to explore.
Monday we have several hours of free time with our groups after we visit the Louvre. My group is hoping to visit the Montparnasse and Père Lachaise cemetaries and the Centre Pompidou before we have to meet up with the group at Notre Dame. I love Paris already : ) Monday night we'll all have dinner together, one last time before we go our separate ways.
Tuesday we'll wake up at 5:15 for breakfast before we got to the airport, but some girls in my group think it's a better idea to not sleep at all, then sleep on the plane. I don't think I'll be able to stay awake that long...
The past week has been a good one. I've gone into town almost everyday after my classes for some last minute pastries and shopping. I bought some macarons today and didn't think to take a picture until I only had one left, so I have a picture of my chocolate macaron (saving the best for last). The stagiares retook the exam we took to qualify for the program, then again our first week in France. I can tell I've made progress! We also had our program to thank our host families. The choir sang, there were many skits, and several students played their instruments. Remember when I said one of the students plays the accordian? I misunderstood; she plays the bagpipes! I guess the hand motions are similar...? She played with the choir for one song, and the families loved it!! Bretagne has a Celtic culture and an appreciation for bagpipes.
Last weekend we were in Brest with Monique's aunt and uncle for la fête nationale. It was like the State Fair and the International Festival together, but much much larger and with lots of ships. (And not dinky paddleboats. There were ships fit for pirates.) We did a lot of walking that day! We went 14.9 km before dinner. When it got dark, there were fireworks set to music. Maybe I was the only one that thought it was strange that we heard "Viva la Vida" but not "La Marseillaise." As I was packing for the weekend I asked Monique if everyone wears the colors of France's flag, but she said everyone dresses like normal. If we were French, Michaela, I don't think I'd paint your nails with little French flags for the 14th. I suppose they just have different ways to express their love of country.
After the fireworks, we (along with the rest of France) left the party for the train station. Never in my life have I been in a crowd packed more like sardines than on that train heading away from downtown Brest. Everyone was in good spirits and friendly. Would it have happened the same way in America? It was almost one in morning and I couldn't move- I had no where to move to with all the people packed on that train!! The doors tried to close several times before succeeding; we have to readjust ourselves so that there was room for the door to close. Finally we got off the train and walked to our bus stop. It was COLD, but we sat on a bench and waited for the bus that would take us back to where we parked the camping car. After a little more than an hour, we had broken into the leftover sandwiches and crepes in Monique's backpack, and the bus hadn't come. We laughed about what we would do if it never came, but by now it was pretty clear that the bus wasn't coming. It was two in the morning and we were about 10 kilometers from the camping car. We zipped up our coats as much as we could, readjusted our scarves, and started walking. We hadn't gotten very far when a family in their car stopped and asked if we needed help. Maybe we looked like we were lost? After telling us how far we were from our car, the wife and son got out of the car to give us their places! They said they were close to home and could walk. And then Dominique got in the passenger seat, Monique's uncle slid in the back, then Monique, then her aunt. I crawled in and sat on the seat in between Monique's legs with my head hitting the roof of the car. An experience.
After several minutes in the car, I was grateful the scenery was passing by in a blur out of the window of a car. That would have been a long walk... We talked cheerfully with the man who was helping us- what a strange group we must have seemed to him! Two couples lost in Brest in the middle of the night with an American. He dropped us off at the camp, and we thanked him and let him get back to his family. We started walking towards the camping cars when we all started laughing and my hosts told me, "See, Kate? That worked out fine! See, Kate? The French are so friendly!" Boy, did I have a story to share at school Monday.
I had my last day of school today. Aw, I can't properly describe how I feel, but it was sad to leave school and wish everyone a good Friday and say that I'll see them bright and early Saturday. After class I walked to the bus stop with some girls and we tried to explain all that we're feeling. It isn't easy! But we are thrilled that we get to see our families so soon. I took the bus with my neighbor for the last time. Ryan, I have been super aware of what my eyes are doing as I look out the window this entire summer : )
Tomorrow I'll wake up later than usual and meet up with some girls for one last outing in Saint Brieuc, the beach, and a creperie that we like. Then I'll have dinner one last time with my family before taking off. This time next week I'll be home with you all! And in a few days I'll be an American in Paris. I love you all so much; thank you for all you've done for me!
I've started this post several times, and I'm not sure why my words are coming so slowly today. I could blame it on how little I use English, but I think there is more to it. Sometimes, it truly is easier to think in French. My memory can't distinguish between the two languages anymore. Earlier I remembered a conversation I had yesterday, but I remembered it in English. After only two weeks here I remembered something my dentist told me, but in my mind she spoke in French (as far as I know, she only speaks English...).
I've been pretty tired this week too. There has been much preparation for our time in Paris and our departure for the US. Whoo! Today at school we went over the logistiques for our Paris excursion. My profs are crazy. I don't know what they were thinking when they agreed to be responsible for 32 teenagers in PARIS. On va voir.... There were at least 20 minutes of stories about pickpockets and their various techniques. We went over what to do if only half of your group makes it on the metro before the door closes. When we started to talk about the youth hostel we'll be staying in, we asked if the bathrooms were like the ones in the hostel in Normandy (There was one toilet per floor and a separate room with showers, like a locker room). We all cheered when the profs told us there was a bathroom in each room. How spoiled we'll be!
I'll wake up early Saturday morning to say my goodbyes and meet the other students and our profs. Since the third week here, I've felt like throwing my feet out in front of me to keep time from pulling me any closer to the end of my time here. We leave at 7:30 for our last excursion, but I'm sure it will be our best. We'll drive to Versailles and spend a few hours there before heading to Paris itself. Louis XIV wanted to be distant from Paris; life in the city was too inconvenient for him. After touring France's major chateaux (and even staying in the Louvre), he wasn't satisfied and ordered Versailles to be constructed. I hear it is almost ridiculous in its luxury, but I can tell you for myself in a week or so.
Sunday we get to visit the Sainte-Chapelle (so excited, Mama Z!!) then take a tour of the city on the Seine. I'm hoping to get a crepe or two as we wait for the Tour de France to pass by. Isn't that awesome?! I'll be sure not to blink; Larry said the whole thing passes by in two minutes. After that we'll see the Tour Eiffel, then head to the Latin Quarter for dinner and some free time to explore.
Monday we have several hours of free time with our groups after we visit the Louvre. My group is hoping to visit the Montparnasse and Père Lachaise cemetaries and the Centre Pompidou before we have to meet up with the group at Notre Dame. I love Paris already : ) Monday night we'll all have dinner together, one last time before we go our separate ways.
Tuesday we'll wake up at 5:15 for breakfast before we got to the airport, but some girls in my group think it's a better idea to not sleep at all, then sleep on the plane. I don't think I'll be able to stay awake that long...
The past week has been a good one. I've gone into town almost everyday after my classes for some last minute pastries and shopping. I bought some macarons today and didn't think to take a picture until I only had one left, so I have a picture of my chocolate macaron (saving the best for last). The stagiares retook the exam we took to qualify for the program, then again our first week in France. I can tell I've made progress! We also had our program to thank our host families. The choir sang, there were many skits, and several students played their instruments. Remember when I said one of the students plays the accordian? I misunderstood; she plays the bagpipes! I guess the hand motions are similar...? She played with the choir for one song, and the families loved it!! Bretagne has a Celtic culture and an appreciation for bagpipes.
Last weekend we were in Brest with Monique's aunt and uncle for la fête nationale. It was like the State Fair and the International Festival together, but much much larger and with lots of ships. (And not dinky paddleboats. There were ships fit for pirates.) We did a lot of walking that day! We went 14.9 km before dinner. When it got dark, there were fireworks set to music. Maybe I was the only one that thought it was strange that we heard "Viva la Vida" but not "La Marseillaise." As I was packing for the weekend I asked Monique if everyone wears the colors of France's flag, but she said everyone dresses like normal. If we were French, Michaela, I don't think I'd paint your nails with little French flags for the 14th. I suppose they just have different ways to express their love of country.
After the fireworks, we (along with the rest of France) left the party for the train station. Never in my life have I been in a crowd packed more like sardines than on that train heading away from downtown Brest. Everyone was in good spirits and friendly. Would it have happened the same way in America? It was almost one in morning and I couldn't move- I had no where to move to with all the people packed on that train!! The doors tried to close several times before succeeding; we have to readjust ourselves so that there was room for the door to close. Finally we got off the train and walked to our bus stop. It was COLD, but we sat on a bench and waited for the bus that would take us back to where we parked the camping car. After a little more than an hour, we had broken into the leftover sandwiches and crepes in Monique's backpack, and the bus hadn't come. We laughed about what we would do if it never came, but by now it was pretty clear that the bus wasn't coming. It was two in the morning and we were about 10 kilometers from the camping car. We zipped up our coats as much as we could, readjusted our scarves, and started walking. We hadn't gotten very far when a family in their car stopped and asked if we needed help. Maybe we looked like we were lost? After telling us how far we were from our car, the wife and son got out of the car to give us their places! They said they were close to home and could walk. And then Dominique got in the passenger seat, Monique's uncle slid in the back, then Monique, then her aunt. I crawled in and sat on the seat in between Monique's legs with my head hitting the roof of the car. An experience.
After several minutes in the car, I was grateful the scenery was passing by in a blur out of the window of a car. That would have been a long walk... We talked cheerfully with the man who was helping us- what a strange group we must have seemed to him! Two couples lost in Brest in the middle of the night with an American. He dropped us off at the camp, and we thanked him and let him get back to his family. We started walking towards the camping cars when we all started laughing and my hosts told me, "See, Kate? That worked out fine! See, Kate? The French are so friendly!" Boy, did I have a story to share at school Monday.
I had my last day of school today. Aw, I can't properly describe how I feel, but it was sad to leave school and wish everyone a good Friday and say that I'll see them bright and early Saturday. After class I walked to the bus stop with some girls and we tried to explain all that we're feeling. It isn't easy! But we are thrilled that we get to see our families so soon. I took the bus with my neighbor for the last time. Ryan, I have been super aware of what my eyes are doing as I look out the window this entire summer : )
Tomorrow I'll wake up later than usual and meet up with some girls for one last outing in Saint Brieuc, the beach, and a creperie that we like. Then I'll have dinner one last time with my family before taking off. This time next week I'll be home with you all! And in a few days I'll be an American in Paris. I love you all so much; thank you for all you've done for me!
Thursday, July 12, 2012
Surprise! Early Post!
One of my professors asked us, "When people ask you, 'How was your time in France?' how are you going to respond?" Uh.... Good question. Stories are easy enough to share, but it isn't the same as sharing the experience. I hope these posts have helped, as I wrote them with the memories still fresh in my mind. Also, the unbelievable amount of photos I have should help explain what I've been up to the past few weeks! Let's see if it works!
Last weekend, Dominique tried to teach me how to make crepes! And man, were they delicious. He called me into the back room of the house that hasa window, some cabinets, and a stove in the corner. We told me to watch as he made a crepe, then said, "Vas-y," because it was my turn. Excusez-moi?! The first time (and the second, and the third,...) was a failure. I took a picture of my burnt heap of crepe lying next to the stove as Dominique continued. I burned my fingers a lot and never really made a crepe, but I promised I would practice when I got home.
The picture below is of Zoe, who turned 1 on Saturday! The party was long (but what French party isn't?) and there were so many people! I knew most of the people already, but I made a new friend, and I think so highly of her. Her name is Amelia, and she is a Spanish student staying with Gislaine for a few weeks. It was Amelia's first day in France, and she had been in a bus for 24 hours as she traveled herefrom the south of Spain. I could understand how exhausted and disoriented she was. The party was a little rough for her, but I got to spend some time talking and laughing with her. She told me a lot about her home: what the houses look like, how Spanish people greet one another, what types of flowers they have, what she likes to eat,... I think I would like Spain.
The picture below is a veggie dish we had with dinner this week. I think it was zucchini, but I'm not sure. I don't understand how all the food here is so much better. It isn't like good American food; it's just...different. The first time I tried strawberries here was embarrassing. We were having lunch outside of the camping car, and I had run errands with Monique earlier that day and I had picked out the strawberries. After lunch (since fruit is considered dessert here-guess what I'll be eating a TON of whenever I want when I get home?), I picked out a strawberry and took a bite and-- my eyes got huge and my mouth fell open. Oh. My. Gosh. Truly, it was like candy. It was soft, but not mushy, and oh so sweet. I ate almost all the strawberries in one sitting.
This is who I've been hanging out with. The étagiares are like a family, but there is a group of girls I often spend my time with. We are all very different, but we get along so well and laugh often (usually at each other). Two of these girls are continuing your work, Emily, by trying to get me to be louder. One has an almost generous approach, as though she is making me a better person by her lessons. She encourages me to say at least one thing loudy each day. The other girl teases me during class, because she sits next to me and can hear me call the teacher when he can't. After a few seconds of me calling, "Larry? Larry? Larry?" she calls his name once and he looks up. I am so grateful to know these girls, and I love them a ton.
We had an excursion yesterday! Our first stop was Dinan, which is in the photo below. It's perfect. It is a quiet town with lots of little shops and narrow streets, though I think that describes much of France. We were put in groups and sent out on a treasure hunt for major sights of the town. There were sights that would be awarded bonus points, and the boy in my group was a little disappointed when we decided to forfeit those points and buy macarons instead.
After Dinan, we went to the beach at Dinard, which is the favorite beach of Alfred Hitchcock. There is a statue of him there, and you can see the house that overlooks the ocean from a cliff and that inspired "Psycho." There were lots of photos taken, then we headed to St. Malo. We were again in groups, and we had three hours in the city! It is a fortified city next to the ocean, and the picture below was taken on the ramparts. One of the girls in my group took many pictures of me, and we ended up with lots of goofy ones... My group was walking together on the ramparts and finishing our ice cream (which was THE BEST ice cream I've ever had. The next time I'm in France, I may go to St Malo just for the 'scream). The weather was gorgeous! And that's rare in Bretagne. It was warm with a light breeze. We could see the little people and hear the sounds of shops and cafes over the wall on our left and see the sea with her ships and rocks on our right. I said, "Oh, I'm so content," and someone in my group asked me why. Because I'm in France!
This is the apple tart I ate today at lunch.
So I guess you could say I'm still having fun. I'm comfortable in the culture and my routine here is second-nature. I miss you all like crazy though. I've been reflecting on how I can mix my two lives, Indiana and Bretagne. It doesn't seem difficult now; I am just one person who has loved ones in two different countries. We'll see in the months to come how I handle it. Today one of my professors told us that the return is often more difficult than leaving home. There will be culture shock for sure.And I'll have a lot of catching up to do!
I am developping a slight obsession with Edith Piaf. I liked her a lot before this summer, but now I KNOW WHAT SHE'S SAYING. (You know, kind of.) I didn't understand why "La Vie En Rose" is so popular, but now I get it!!
Persévérez dans la prière, veillez-y avec actions de grâce. Priez également pour nous: que Dieu ouvre une porte à notre parole, afin que je puisse annoncer le mystère du Christ, pour lequel je suis dan les châines, et en parler clairement clairement comme je suis dois. Conduisez-vous avec sagesse envers ceux du dehors. Rachetez le temps. Que votre parole soit toujours accompagnée de grâce, assaisonnée de sel, afin que vous sachiez comment vous devez répondre à chacun.
Colossiens 4:2-6
Devote yourselves to prayer, being watchful and thankful. And pray for us, too, that God may open a door for our message, so that we may proclaim the mystery of Christ, for which I am in chains. Pray that I may proclaim it clearly, as I should. Be wise in the way you act toward outsiders; make the most of every opportunity. Let your conversation be always full of grace, seasoned with salt, so that you may know how to answer everyone.
Colossians 4:2-6
My time in the Bible has been like eating lobster. It's delicious but a lot of work. Much time and effort go into prying a piece out, but when I do- ah, it's worth the effort. My time with the Word (even in French!) is rich and wonderful. It is satisfying, but I always want more. I am anxious to get my hands on my English Bible. It will be like being handed a platter of lobster meat. Oh, how I will feast!
Before this trip and even at its start, I asked questions like "Why does the past participle have to agree with the direct object?" "Why can't the past participle ALWAYS agree with the direct object?" "Why are there so many verb tenses?" "Why can't the French just speak English?" Now I have truly begun to love this language. Ah, that last question is taboo. No, we have to have French! Its complexity is beautiful and its elegance captivating. No, we have to have French.
This weekend we will be celebrating your birthday, Micky, in Brest with many other people. Every four years Brest has a big fête as a "celebration of maritime history." I think that just means there will be lots of boats and fireworks. And food, of course. This IS France. François Hollande will be there too. Maybe he'll see me... I don't think we'll have fireworks either because of the rain. Vive la Bretagne.
After class tomorrow I am going to the movies with a group of étagiares, then I'm headed to Brest with Monique and Dominique tomorrow night! I'm posting today because I'm not sure when I'll have time again before my last Monday in Bretagne. Sigh.
Love you all!
Saturday, July 7, 2012
Two Weeks Left? You're Joking.
Your questions first! No, I haven't been to church. This weekend will be the first that I'll be home on a Sunday since my first weekend here. I miss it so much! If anyone is free the week I get back, can we have a worship session? I'd love to catch up on all God has been doing in the States! And Haiti, and China,... But time with Jesus has been sweet. I love having time alone with the Word; I don't get much alone time! Neighbors stop by often (one is here now!) and Monique and Dominique's children all live close and are here most days with their children. And Monique takes care of children at our house while their parents are at work. My time alone is a refresher for both my body and my soul. I've been in the Psalms for the most part. Yesterday I read Psalm 14. God is our refuge! Seek the Lord while he may be found!
Thank you all for your letters and your comments on my blog. I'm always so excited to read them!! Can you believe I only have two weeks left? I can't. That went way too quickly. I'm not ready to leave either! I've met so many people that I love, and who knows when I'll see them again? Monique and Dominique said I can stay here the next time I come to France. Mom and Dad, they said if my parents are anything like me, they are welcome here too. I didn't make any jokes but accepted that offer graciously : ) You would really like them! They remind me a lot of you both.
I haven't seen much of France, but I've seen a lot of Brittany! I've been to the coast on each side of Brittany and spent time in Normandy with school. Then in eleven days we leave for Paris! It isn't much of France, but I don't mind. I satisfied with my corner of France.
Hey, happy Independence Day! We celebrated here too! I woke up and wished my mom and happy Independence Day, and she said, "Oh, yeah... Thanks." No problem! The night before I was talking with Dominique about our war for independence and the French Revolution. He didn't believe me when I said Thomas Jefferson wrote the Declaration, and he made me prove it with the Internet. Dominique was upset that I didn't know much about Lafayette, the great French general who aided the Americans. He had me read up on him... Yesterday we had dinner with friends (which is a story in itself), and Dominique asked "What are they talking about at that end of the table?" I told him they were talking about the differences between French and English (the languages). Dominique said, "The English are imbeciles" because their food is awful and they're unnattractive. He told me they eat too much pudding, which causes indigestion. "You could eat two McDonald's, or you could eat one pudding." Then he started praising the French, and his two arguments were their food and Lafayette.
We celebrated our independence day by having no classes! It was a good suprise. Instead we watched a movie, learned about French comics, and took a field trip into town to the bookstore to read some comics for ourselves. That evening, we had a reception at city hall with the mayor of St-Brieuc. We all dressed up for the occasion! All our families were there, and there were some speakers and our choir sang. Oh, I forgot to tell you! I decided to join choir. It was fun and we did really well! We sang in French and in Breton. The Breton song was to the tune of "Amazing Grace, " and was so pretty when sung with a choir. Then our professors told us they had a surprise: we were going to sing our national anthem for our parents! In English! As we sang, with the sound reverberating and filling the room, my pride of country rivaled what I felt in Normandy. You should look up the lyrics and read them aloud. It's a beautiful song.
I thought by now the French culture would be second-nature, and certain aspects are! I'll try to remember not to kiss your cheeks when I see you all again. I'm still learning here though! During my communication class last week, we were sharing things that our families do that surprised us. There were many exclamations of "Oh! I thought only my family did that!" Nope, it's just France. Par example, during dinner, it is common for people to reach across the table for something they want. When we ask for something to be passed during dinner, our parents say, "Comme chez toi!" They want us to act like we would at our house, because they want us to be comfortable in their home. I've learned that cultural differences like that are good to know, since my politeness was taken for timidity.
I hope this is all making sense; there are kids playing under the table I'm sitting at, and it's a little hard to think. But it isn't a big deal! I love them dearly. The older one has sat next to me several times to watch me type this post. And right now they are giggling under the table and saying, "An American! An American!" The older one has poked my shin once or twice under the table, very gently...
Thursday night we were at our neighbors' house for dinner, and there was a group of seven teenagers my age or a little older. I sat with the teenagers and talked with them! It was scary at first, but they were really cool! They asked lots of questions and laughed at my accent, but I laughed at theirs when they tried to speak English. One of the kids told me speaking English was as hard for them as French is for me, which made me feel much better. They expected me to not like the weather here, but I prefer it to Indiana's summer heat and humidity, which I hear is pretty bad this year. When I told them how hot it is there, one kid asked if we fry eggs on the top of our cars. Do you?
The teenagers here aren't much different from American teenagers. We had lots of snacks and listened to music. There was a lot of laughing, and we kicked a soccer ball around in the backyard. In France, kids are allowed to drink at home whenever their parents think they are old enough. It was strange for me when the teenagers had bottles of wine, champagne, and whiskey out on the porch with us. I was talking with one of my professors about how teenagers have the right to drink alcohol, and he said he prefers it that way. Kids learn how to drink from their parents in their home, so there isn't much irresponsible drinking. They offered me both alcohol and cigarettes, but I politely declined. You're welcome, Mom.
Last night we went to friends' for dinner, and it was crazy! The dinner was a celebration, but I'm not quite sure how to explain what we were celebrating. The couple had signed an agreement, like a marriage. But it wasn't a marriage, just a legal document. But there was a big party! There were at least thirty people, and we didn't start dinner until 10:45! We had moules-frites (mussels and fries), porc, bread, and lots of wonderful pastries. There was an incredible amount of mussels and fries!!! There were enough for LEFTOVERS after 30 Frenchmen finished eating. That's unbelievable. I met lots of people and talked about so many things! I explained why I am here and what I'm learning in school, and I talked a lot about places in the US that the other guests have visited. One woman (a Parisian whose accent was so easy to understand! Finally!) talked to me about a lot of movies. We talked about "The Blues Brothers" after she asked if I had dogs (ours are named after the main characters of the movie). Her son and his friend love "Remember the Titans" (He said, "Ah, that is an excellent film. Excellent."). The woman couldn't believe I've never seen "Armageddon," and insisted I watch it when I get home. My favorite conversation was with one of Monique's daughters. Her name is Gislaine, and she is a lot like me! She came over to see if I was okay while everyone was talking and eating BEFORE THE DINNER. I was fine! I don't talk very loudly and wasn't asking for much, so she came to check on me. We talked about my family and my time in France, and how little time I have left! I told her I'm the first one in my family who has traveled to France, but I'd like to return with them someday! She told me that she thinks I'm brave for being here without my family for so long. It was so nice to talk with her! She is very kind and a good listener, and I spoke very openly with her.
Today was the first day all summer I was able to sleep in as long as I wanted! I didn't get up until 10:30, which isn't bad considering we left the party at two this morning. Today is Gislaine's birthday, and we'll be at their house this evening. Then tomorrow we have another birthday party: one of the children that Monique watches is turning 1! Then I have my last full week of school! The weekend that will follow will be spent in Brest for Bastille Day- awesome! We're taking the RV there for a festival. Michaela, whenever I tell people your birthday is July 14, they say, "Oh, for France's national holiday!" Yep : )
Monique says bonjour, Mom and Dad! She is slicing apples in the kitchen for her apple tarte, whose recipe I'd like to get...
That's all for right now! Love you all, and I'll see you soon!!
Thank you all for your letters and your comments on my blog. I'm always so excited to read them!! Can you believe I only have two weeks left? I can't. That went way too quickly. I'm not ready to leave either! I've met so many people that I love, and who knows when I'll see them again? Monique and Dominique said I can stay here the next time I come to France. Mom and Dad, they said if my parents are anything like me, they are welcome here too. I didn't make any jokes but accepted that offer graciously : ) You would really like them! They remind me a lot of you both.
I haven't seen much of France, but I've seen a lot of Brittany! I've been to the coast on each side of Brittany and spent time in Normandy with school. Then in eleven days we leave for Paris! It isn't much of France, but I don't mind. I satisfied with my corner of France.
Hey, happy Independence Day! We celebrated here too! I woke up and wished my mom and happy Independence Day, and she said, "Oh, yeah... Thanks." No problem! The night before I was talking with Dominique about our war for independence and the French Revolution. He didn't believe me when I said Thomas Jefferson wrote the Declaration, and he made me prove it with the Internet. Dominique was upset that I didn't know much about Lafayette, the great French general who aided the Americans. He had me read up on him... Yesterday we had dinner with friends (which is a story in itself), and Dominique asked "What are they talking about at that end of the table?" I told him they were talking about the differences between French and English (the languages). Dominique said, "The English are imbeciles" because their food is awful and they're unnattractive. He told me they eat too much pudding, which causes indigestion. "You could eat two McDonald's, or you could eat one pudding." Then he started praising the French, and his two arguments were their food and Lafayette.
We celebrated our independence day by having no classes! It was a good suprise. Instead we watched a movie, learned about French comics, and took a field trip into town to the bookstore to read some comics for ourselves. That evening, we had a reception at city hall with the mayor of St-Brieuc. We all dressed up for the occasion! All our families were there, and there were some speakers and our choir sang. Oh, I forgot to tell you! I decided to join choir. It was fun and we did really well! We sang in French and in Breton. The Breton song was to the tune of "Amazing Grace, " and was so pretty when sung with a choir. Then our professors told us they had a surprise: we were going to sing our national anthem for our parents! In English! As we sang, with the sound reverberating and filling the room, my pride of country rivaled what I felt in Normandy. You should look up the lyrics and read them aloud. It's a beautiful song.
I thought by now the French culture would be second-nature, and certain aspects are! I'll try to remember not to kiss your cheeks when I see you all again. I'm still learning here though! During my communication class last week, we were sharing things that our families do that surprised us. There were many exclamations of "Oh! I thought only my family did that!" Nope, it's just France. Par example, during dinner, it is common for people to reach across the table for something they want. When we ask for something to be passed during dinner, our parents say, "Comme chez toi!" They want us to act like we would at our house, because they want us to be comfortable in their home. I've learned that cultural differences like that are good to know, since my politeness was taken for timidity.
I hope this is all making sense; there are kids playing under the table I'm sitting at, and it's a little hard to think. But it isn't a big deal! I love them dearly. The older one has sat next to me several times to watch me type this post. And right now they are giggling under the table and saying, "An American! An American!" The older one has poked my shin once or twice under the table, very gently...
Thursday night we were at our neighbors' house for dinner, and there was a group of seven teenagers my age or a little older. I sat with the teenagers and talked with them! It was scary at first, but they were really cool! They asked lots of questions and laughed at my accent, but I laughed at theirs when they tried to speak English. One of the kids told me speaking English was as hard for them as French is for me, which made me feel much better. They expected me to not like the weather here, but I prefer it to Indiana's summer heat and humidity, which I hear is pretty bad this year. When I told them how hot it is there, one kid asked if we fry eggs on the top of our cars. Do you?
The teenagers here aren't much different from American teenagers. We had lots of snacks and listened to music. There was a lot of laughing, and we kicked a soccer ball around in the backyard. In France, kids are allowed to drink at home whenever their parents think they are old enough. It was strange for me when the teenagers had bottles of wine, champagne, and whiskey out on the porch with us. I was talking with one of my professors about how teenagers have the right to drink alcohol, and he said he prefers it that way. Kids learn how to drink from their parents in their home, so there isn't much irresponsible drinking. They offered me both alcohol and cigarettes, but I politely declined. You're welcome, Mom.
Last night we went to friends' for dinner, and it was crazy! The dinner was a celebration, but I'm not quite sure how to explain what we were celebrating. The couple had signed an agreement, like a marriage. But it wasn't a marriage, just a legal document. But there was a big party! There were at least thirty people, and we didn't start dinner until 10:45! We had moules-frites (mussels and fries), porc, bread, and lots of wonderful pastries. There was an incredible amount of mussels and fries!!! There were enough for LEFTOVERS after 30 Frenchmen finished eating. That's unbelievable. I met lots of people and talked about so many things! I explained why I am here and what I'm learning in school, and I talked a lot about places in the US that the other guests have visited. One woman (a Parisian whose accent was so easy to understand! Finally!) talked to me about a lot of movies. We talked about "The Blues Brothers" after she asked if I had dogs (ours are named after the main characters of the movie). Her son and his friend love "Remember the Titans" (He said, "Ah, that is an excellent film. Excellent."). The woman couldn't believe I've never seen "Armageddon," and insisted I watch it when I get home. My favorite conversation was with one of Monique's daughters. Her name is Gislaine, and she is a lot like me! She came over to see if I was okay while everyone was talking and eating BEFORE THE DINNER. I was fine! I don't talk very loudly and wasn't asking for much, so she came to check on me. We talked about my family and my time in France, and how little time I have left! I told her I'm the first one in my family who has traveled to France, but I'd like to return with them someday! She told me that she thinks I'm brave for being here without my family for so long. It was so nice to talk with her! She is very kind and a good listener, and I spoke very openly with her.
Today was the first day all summer I was able to sleep in as long as I wanted! I didn't get up until 10:30, which isn't bad considering we left the party at two this morning. Today is Gislaine's birthday, and we'll be at their house this evening. Then tomorrow we have another birthday party: one of the children that Monique watches is turning 1! Then I have my last full week of school! The weekend that will follow will be spent in Brest for Bastille Day- awesome! We're taking the RV there for a festival. Michaela, whenever I tell people your birthday is July 14, they say, "Oh, for France's national holiday!" Yep : )
Monique says bonjour, Mom and Dad! She is slicing apples in the kitchen for her apple tarte, whose recipe I'd like to get...
That's all for right now! Love you all, and I'll see you soon!!
Monday, July 2, 2012
Proud to be an American. Most of the time.
First, I'm not so sure about the stereotypes about the French. Yesterday Dominique wore both a beret and a blue and white striped shirt. Maybe at the end of the summer I'll have a better idea of the true French.
I still believe that the stereotype that says the French are rude is a lie, although I did talk with a woman who wasn't super polite after she found out I'm American. Pas grave. I think that is the only time that's happened. Usually, the people we meet are hospitable and friendly. We all have funny stories about meeting new people, but a common reaction is, "American? Cool!!" They are often curious about the United States. Much of our films, music, and television has made its way to France, and many French people think Americans eat a lot of pizza, party hard in Mexico during spring break, and live luxurious lives like the people in movies and music videos. Today, a girl in my communication class said, "I'm not proud to come from the same country as 'Jersey Shore,'" since it impacted her family's idea of a typical American.
While we were visiting Mont St Michel, there were American tourists, and- my word! English is much harsher on the ears. We all discreetly smiled at one another and laughed to ourselves when we heard an English speaker. I thought, "These Americans are irritating," before remembering that I too am American. Then I felt embarrassed, because these tourists were verifying many unfortunate stereotypes.
Although I speak softly in the bus so my accent doesn't blow my cover, there have been several times that I have been fiercely proud to be an American. The strongest was when I was walking through the American cemetary in Normandy, then on Omaha Beach. I have thought more about the differences between the two cemetaries that we visited, and I also asked several people for their opinions. The prof that I asked answered so well. His response was the puzzle piece I felt missing in my understanding of the cemetaries. He said that the American cemetary has an ambiance of heroism. That's what sparked my pride and patriotism in Normandy. The German soldiers fought by obligation. Both cemetaries, however, are the final resting places of many young men who gave themselves for their country. Both are solemn and heartbreaking when you consider the.... I truly can't remember how to spell the word I wanted to use next. I recognize more and more the atrophy of my English muscle. I'm sure you can imagine where I was headed with that sentence. The war devastated everyone involved. I asked my host dad why he thought the cemetaries are different, since he has been to both. He sees it in a different way. He said that the Gerrman cemetary is la mort and darkness. It is sad because it is a cemetary, but the American cemetary is vivant. It is full of life.
Apart from these experiences of patriotism, I am trying to conform to the culture (sans the smoking and drinking). Another aspect of la culture française that I haven't conformed to is how short French women wear their hair. My host parents explained to me that long hair is for young girls. When girls reach fourteen or fifteen years old, they often cut and keep their hair short. If it is kept long, it is usually pulled up into a bun. I've opted for the bun.
I've had a few people think I'm French! But it's only when I don't talk a lot. The first time probably doesn't count, because it wasn't with a French speaker. We were in Normandy, and some girls and I were returning from the beach to the hostel where we were staying, and an English girl was following behind us. When we reached the hostel, I held the door open for her out of la politesse and said, "Après toi." She responded with a "merci" that sounded very English. A severe R like ours doesn't exist in French. French Rs sound like a purring cat that has a mouth full of spit. It's hard to imagine that French is known for its beauty and elegance after that description, but it really is a lovely language.
During the weekend, I went with my host mom to a jewelry store to pick out a watch. Both my mom and the woman helping us asked me my opinion and preferences, which don't require lengthy responses. When the woman referred to me as Monique's daughter, Monique said, "Oh, she isn't my daughter! She's an American." And the woman was surprised! Gagné! Score! Then she asked me questions about Indiana and my time in France, and she told me that I spoke well. Ah, merci beaucoup.
I think I speak well when I'm at ease. The woman working at the jewelry store was warm and friendly, and I was comfortable talking with her. There have been several times when I've been nervous while talking with people, and my communication skills are horrendous. Was that last word spelled correctly? I'm beginning to spell things phonetically when I'm not sure.
Les soldes have started! Every store participates, especially clothing stores, but I've seen furniture stores and a travel agency also advertise their sales. More than the clothes, I love the time I've spent with the other students in town. There are many jokes and laughs, usually shared over ice cream or pain au chocolat. I'm here with a really cool group of kids! Two students are only 15. Another is my age but just graduated, having finished high school in only three years. There are at least four students who are fluent in a language other than English or French (at least Spanish, Korean, and Lithuanian). There is a student who attends boarding school. One has been an exchange student to Japan before, since he also studies Japanese. One plays the accordian. One fences. Another joined the Air Force right before our departure from the US.
I was talking with another American on the bus today after class, and she said she thinks she sees people that she knows! Phew, I'm not the only one. I thought I may be losing it...
Happy late birthday, Lindsay! And happy early birthday, Blake and Austin! It'll be your birthday here in just a few hours... Linds, your birthday was an eventful day for me. It was the first day that I woke up without being ravenously hungry. Finally, my hunger is slowing down! I mean, sort of... At school, we have three choices of entrees, and it was the first day that an entree was repeated. I think the cafeteria food is better than the food I have at home here. Crazy. And there are so many choices! I usually have fish, actual French fries or rice, fruit, a dessert, and a petit baguette. Always a baguette. At the start of the line are the trays, glasses, silverware, and baguettes. C'est la France. It was also the first day that my family didn't have bread at dinner- une cambriolage! Actually, it wasn't a huge deal; that's just a great word that I don't get to use often. I hope the weather wasn't too hot for you!! It has to be rough in a wigwam...
Is there anything you all would like to know that I haven't written about or that wasn't clear? I'd love to tell you whatever you'd like to know.
Oh, hey! Friday we learned several traditional breton dances!! It was so fun. The dances weren't complicated and are done as a group. Dancing tete-à-tete (one boy and one girl) is naughty in the traditional breton culture, and of course even their dancing shows the importance of the community! There aren't as many guys as girls in my group, so I got to dance the guy's part and dance with all my friends for several songs. C'est la vie. Dominique came with me to the dance, and as we were walking in he was explaining how the French wave. When they say bonjour, they can wave, but the hand is stiff, not moving back and forth or curling the fingers. He said that the waves with bending fingers are for little girls and when you see an attractive boy. "If you wave like that, oh! Look out!" I've stopped waving altogether to avoid attracting unwanted attention. On the way home, he was saying ridiculous tongue twisters and having me repeat them. When I'd get lost in the sounds and start laughing, he'd urge, "Come on, say it..." He would also say old French proverbs and want me to explain them to him. Jamie (my communication prof) does this with us, and I never get them right...
I still believe that the stereotype that says the French are rude is a lie, although I did talk with a woman who wasn't super polite after she found out I'm American. Pas grave. I think that is the only time that's happened. Usually, the people we meet are hospitable and friendly. We all have funny stories about meeting new people, but a common reaction is, "American? Cool!!" They are often curious about the United States. Much of our films, music, and television has made its way to France, and many French people think Americans eat a lot of pizza, party hard in Mexico during spring break, and live luxurious lives like the people in movies and music videos. Today, a girl in my communication class said, "I'm not proud to come from the same country as 'Jersey Shore,'" since it impacted her family's idea of a typical American.
While we were visiting Mont St Michel, there were American tourists, and- my word! English is much harsher on the ears. We all discreetly smiled at one another and laughed to ourselves when we heard an English speaker. I thought, "These Americans are irritating," before remembering that I too am American. Then I felt embarrassed, because these tourists were verifying many unfortunate stereotypes.
Although I speak softly in the bus so my accent doesn't blow my cover, there have been several times that I have been fiercely proud to be an American. The strongest was when I was walking through the American cemetary in Normandy, then on Omaha Beach. I have thought more about the differences between the two cemetaries that we visited, and I also asked several people for their opinions. The prof that I asked answered so well. His response was the puzzle piece I felt missing in my understanding of the cemetaries. He said that the American cemetary has an ambiance of heroism. That's what sparked my pride and patriotism in Normandy. The German soldiers fought by obligation. Both cemetaries, however, are the final resting places of many young men who gave themselves for their country. Both are solemn and heartbreaking when you consider the.... I truly can't remember how to spell the word I wanted to use next. I recognize more and more the atrophy of my English muscle. I'm sure you can imagine where I was headed with that sentence. The war devastated everyone involved. I asked my host dad why he thought the cemetaries are different, since he has been to both. He sees it in a different way. He said that the Gerrman cemetary is la mort and darkness. It is sad because it is a cemetary, but the American cemetary is vivant. It is full of life.
Apart from these experiences of patriotism, I am trying to conform to the culture (sans the smoking and drinking). Another aspect of la culture française that I haven't conformed to is how short French women wear their hair. My host parents explained to me that long hair is for young girls. When girls reach fourteen or fifteen years old, they often cut and keep their hair short. If it is kept long, it is usually pulled up into a bun. I've opted for the bun.
I've had a few people think I'm French! But it's only when I don't talk a lot. The first time probably doesn't count, because it wasn't with a French speaker. We were in Normandy, and some girls and I were returning from the beach to the hostel where we were staying, and an English girl was following behind us. When we reached the hostel, I held the door open for her out of la politesse and said, "Après toi." She responded with a "merci" that sounded very English. A severe R like ours doesn't exist in French. French Rs sound like a purring cat that has a mouth full of spit. It's hard to imagine that French is known for its beauty and elegance after that description, but it really is a lovely language.
During the weekend, I went with my host mom to a jewelry store to pick out a watch. Both my mom and the woman helping us asked me my opinion and preferences, which don't require lengthy responses. When the woman referred to me as Monique's daughter, Monique said, "Oh, she isn't my daughter! She's an American." And the woman was surprised! Gagné! Score! Then she asked me questions about Indiana and my time in France, and she told me that I spoke well. Ah, merci beaucoup.
I think I speak well when I'm at ease. The woman working at the jewelry store was warm and friendly, and I was comfortable talking with her. There have been several times when I've been nervous while talking with people, and my communication skills are horrendous. Was that last word spelled correctly? I'm beginning to spell things phonetically when I'm not sure.
Les soldes have started! Every store participates, especially clothing stores, but I've seen furniture stores and a travel agency also advertise their sales. More than the clothes, I love the time I've spent with the other students in town. There are many jokes and laughs, usually shared over ice cream or pain au chocolat. I'm here with a really cool group of kids! Two students are only 15. Another is my age but just graduated, having finished high school in only three years. There are at least four students who are fluent in a language other than English or French (at least Spanish, Korean, and Lithuanian). There is a student who attends boarding school. One has been an exchange student to Japan before, since he also studies Japanese. One plays the accordian. One fences. Another joined the Air Force right before our departure from the US.
I was talking with another American on the bus today after class, and she said she thinks she sees people that she knows! Phew, I'm not the only one. I thought I may be losing it...
Happy late birthday, Lindsay! And happy early birthday, Blake and Austin! It'll be your birthday here in just a few hours... Linds, your birthday was an eventful day for me. It was the first day that I woke up without being ravenously hungry. Finally, my hunger is slowing down! I mean, sort of... At school, we have three choices of entrees, and it was the first day that an entree was repeated. I think the cafeteria food is better than the food I have at home here. Crazy. And there are so many choices! I usually have fish, actual French fries or rice, fruit, a dessert, and a petit baguette. Always a baguette. At the start of the line are the trays, glasses, silverware, and baguettes. C'est la France. It was also the first day that my family didn't have bread at dinner- une cambriolage! Actually, it wasn't a huge deal; that's just a great word that I don't get to use often. I hope the weather wasn't too hot for you!! It has to be rough in a wigwam...
Is there anything you all would like to know that I haven't written about or that wasn't clear? I'd love to tell you whatever you'd like to know.
Oh, hey! Friday we learned several traditional breton dances!! It was so fun. The dances weren't complicated and are done as a group. Dancing tete-à-tete (one boy and one girl) is naughty in the traditional breton culture, and of course even their dancing shows the importance of the community! There aren't as many guys as girls in my group, so I got to dance the guy's part and dance with all my friends for several songs. C'est la vie. Dominique came with me to the dance, and as we were walking in he was explaining how the French wave. When they say bonjour, they can wave, but the hand is stiff, not moving back and forth or curling the fingers. He said that the waves with bending fingers are for little girls and when you see an attractive boy. "If you wave like that, oh! Look out!" I've stopped waving altogether to avoid attracting unwanted attention. On the way home, he was saying ridiculous tongue twisters and having me repeat them. When I'd get lost in the sounds and start laughing, he'd urge, "Come on, say it..." He would also say old French proverbs and want me to explain them to him. Jamie (my communication prof) does this with us, and I never get them right...
Sunday, June 24, 2012
Tales from the RV trip
I like listening to the radio while we drive in the "camping car." There is as much American/British music as French (which is strange to hear when they are followed by French advertisements on the radio). Dominique, my host dad, shook his head at me when I was mouthing along to Jason Mraz. He had the same subtle smirk he has when he offers me wine at dinner (which he knows I'm not allowed to drink) or makes comments like, "The bathroom here is just like the one at your house." In their home, the toilet is in a closet-sized room under the stairs, and the sink and shower are in a separate room down the hall. The first time I used the bathroom here, it took me a solid minute to figure out how to flush the toilet. Not exactly the same.
Lately we've been listening to the "Nostalgie" station. There is a lot of old French rock songs, as well as songs like "Mrs. Robinson" and "Stand by Me." I got a look from Dominique while I was mouthing along to "Bohemian Rhapsody" as if he thinks Americans are ridiculous. It was just in the beginning! I didn't pull a Wayne's World or anything. Dominique sings in funny voices and occasionally dances along to the radio; I need to observe the culture more closely and determine when this behavior is appropriate.
I love when Dominique talks about American or British things. They soundmuch cooler in a French accent. I had to suppress a smile when he was talking about Davey Crockett and the Alamo. Today he mentioned the BeeGees and Queen. The other night he started talking about cowboys, and he had to repeat himself with hand motions before I understood. In English, we often emphasize the first syllable (like DA-vey CRO-ckett, COW-boys, and BEE-gees), but the French emphasize the last syllable. You can probably imagine why it's so funny to listen to Dominique when he talks about these things.
He mentioned cowboys because we were talking about stereotypes during dinner. The French media makes it seem like Americans all ride horses, are buff, and eat a lot of pizza. Emily, I told them about how your aunt raises horses, but that isn't true of most people, especially in the city. They think it's strange that our family really likes Japonese food. They don't care for Japonese or Chinese food. My host mom had a friend over for coffee the other day, and when her friend asked me what we eat in the US, Monique said, "Her family likes Japonese food! Her mom makes sushi!" Does anyone know why that's so strange?
My parents asked me what Americans think of the French. (No, I didn't tell any Mr. Watt jokes about their army.) For the most part, my preconceptions of these people seem ridiculous now. Everyone I've met is friendly and hospitable. It isn't common to see a French dressed in the nautical-style striped shirt, or wearing a beret. Smoking is common, but I haven't seen as many smokers as I anticipated. I thought they eat a lot of bread, which seems true. Dominique said it's true of Bretagne, but not all of France. Bretons cannot have a meal without fresh bread, and you can't have too much butter with it! Bretons are proud to be Breton. Almost every car I see here has a sticker on the back with the region's symbol and the name in breton, the regional language. Dominique told me that the Breton culture is different from the French culture. "The French are berets and baguettes," he said, emphasizing his words with hand motions, "But Bretons... Bretons live with the sea."
Yesterday Monique told me that she and Dominique travel most weekends in the RV, and always to the sea. I can live with that. This past weekend we were in St-Malo. We parked the RV, then (first things first) we walked to a boulangerie (bakery) for a few baguettes. Boulangerie-patisseries are my favorite things in all of France. The ones we have visited are petite and charming, with the cursive title above the wide windows and the oh-so-inviting scent of fresh bread. You walk in and are greeted by the artistic and indulgent pastries, usually made with fruit and chocolate. Behind the counter is stacked all kinds of fresh bread. Mm. They are wonderful places.
After lunch we walked on a path worn through the grass along the beach, with the grey silhouette of Mont St-Michel on the horizon. We drove out to Cancale to hike. My goodness!! The three of us walked through the little town then out along the cliffs. It was more beautiful than anything I had ever read in a book or seen in a movie. The sea seems to be but a backdrop for the cliffs, which are severe and majestic, and the dominant subject in almost every photo I took. We stopped to sit on the rocks and take in the view. Before the sharp drop of the cliffs, they are covered in flowers. I walked out to an edge overlooking the sea, which is speckled with rocks and sailboats. With the seabreeze against my face and blowing my hair behind me, I was truly content. I'm liking France.
And how much more beautiful is the God who is sovereign over such extravagent beauty! All creation sings the greatness of our God!! I believed it before I ever saw France, but now my heart sings it with such confidence! Yesterday the earth gave me the strongest witness yet of how incredible her God is. He is extravagently generous with his beauty here!! Writers and photographers should come to France. They will never lack inspiration here.
I've been in John 14 often the past few weeks. Christ has given us such amazing promises! They come back to me during my day: "Don't let your heart be troubled. Trust in God; trust also in me. I have not left you as orphans. I am preparing a place for you. I'm coming back! And I will bring you with me to where I am now. You know the way! I am the way. And the truth, and the life. And I have given you my Spirit to dwell with you always."
There is no place I would rather be than here in Your love. Set a fire down in my soul that I can't contain, that I can't control. I want more of you, God. I want more of you.
Yesterday I had a time of such sweet communion with Christ. The Spirit was reminding my heart of verses about how I want to walk in his way and be guided by his truth and his light, and that we will find him when we seek him with all our hearts!
With my busy schedule here, it is often easy to forget that my identity is in Christ. It is only by his grace and strength that I have nights in the Word before collapsing in my bed. The past fez days I have been in Ephesians 2:1-10 (thank you, Brian!!), and have been reminded to preach the truth and goodness of the gospel with my life. I've also been in the Psalms. I love the chapters that call all the nations to praise the Lord. He is sovereign even over France!
Jessica, thank you so much for that verse from Romans. It was PERFECT.
Hmm, anything else? I'm not sure what this week looks like for me. The soldes start this week! They are the big clothing sales throughout France. Awesome : ) Monique said we are going camping next weekend with her aunt and uncle, and us girls are going shopping!
Thank you all for being so supportive. You've all been wonderful! Lots of love.
Lately we've been listening to the "Nostalgie" station. There is a lot of old French rock songs, as well as songs like "Mrs. Robinson" and "Stand by Me." I got a look from Dominique while I was mouthing along to "Bohemian Rhapsody" as if he thinks Americans are ridiculous. It was just in the beginning! I didn't pull a Wayne's World or anything. Dominique sings in funny voices and occasionally dances along to the radio; I need to observe the culture more closely and determine when this behavior is appropriate.
I love when Dominique talks about American or British things. They soundmuch cooler in a French accent. I had to suppress a smile when he was talking about Davey Crockett and the Alamo. Today he mentioned the BeeGees and Queen. The other night he started talking about cowboys, and he had to repeat himself with hand motions before I understood. In English, we often emphasize the first syllable (like DA-vey CRO-ckett, COW-boys, and BEE-gees), but the French emphasize the last syllable. You can probably imagine why it's so funny to listen to Dominique when he talks about these things.
He mentioned cowboys because we were talking about stereotypes during dinner. The French media makes it seem like Americans all ride horses, are buff, and eat a lot of pizza. Emily, I told them about how your aunt raises horses, but that isn't true of most people, especially in the city. They think it's strange that our family really likes Japonese food. They don't care for Japonese or Chinese food. My host mom had a friend over for coffee the other day, and when her friend asked me what we eat in the US, Monique said, "Her family likes Japonese food! Her mom makes sushi!" Does anyone know why that's so strange?
My parents asked me what Americans think of the French. (No, I didn't tell any Mr. Watt jokes about their army.) For the most part, my preconceptions of these people seem ridiculous now. Everyone I've met is friendly and hospitable. It isn't common to see a French dressed in the nautical-style striped shirt, or wearing a beret. Smoking is common, but I haven't seen as many smokers as I anticipated. I thought they eat a lot of bread, which seems true. Dominique said it's true of Bretagne, but not all of France. Bretons cannot have a meal without fresh bread, and you can't have too much butter with it! Bretons are proud to be Breton. Almost every car I see here has a sticker on the back with the region's symbol and the name in breton, the regional language. Dominique told me that the Breton culture is different from the French culture. "The French are berets and baguettes," he said, emphasizing his words with hand motions, "But Bretons... Bretons live with the sea."
Yesterday Monique told me that she and Dominique travel most weekends in the RV, and always to the sea. I can live with that. This past weekend we were in St-Malo. We parked the RV, then (first things first) we walked to a boulangerie (bakery) for a few baguettes. Boulangerie-patisseries are my favorite things in all of France. The ones we have visited are petite and charming, with the cursive title above the wide windows and the oh-so-inviting scent of fresh bread. You walk in and are greeted by the artistic and indulgent pastries, usually made with fruit and chocolate. Behind the counter is stacked all kinds of fresh bread. Mm. They are wonderful places.
After lunch we walked on a path worn through the grass along the beach, with the grey silhouette of Mont St-Michel on the horizon. We drove out to Cancale to hike. My goodness!! The three of us walked through the little town then out along the cliffs. It was more beautiful than anything I had ever read in a book or seen in a movie. The sea seems to be but a backdrop for the cliffs, which are severe and majestic, and the dominant subject in almost every photo I took. We stopped to sit on the rocks and take in the view. Before the sharp drop of the cliffs, they are covered in flowers. I walked out to an edge overlooking the sea, which is speckled with rocks and sailboats. With the seabreeze against my face and blowing my hair behind me, I was truly content. I'm liking France.
And how much more beautiful is the God who is sovereign over such extravagent beauty! All creation sings the greatness of our God!! I believed it before I ever saw France, but now my heart sings it with such confidence! Yesterday the earth gave me the strongest witness yet of how incredible her God is. He is extravagently generous with his beauty here!! Writers and photographers should come to France. They will never lack inspiration here.
I've been in John 14 often the past few weeks. Christ has given us such amazing promises! They come back to me during my day: "Don't let your heart be troubled. Trust in God; trust also in me. I have not left you as orphans. I am preparing a place for you. I'm coming back! And I will bring you with me to where I am now. You know the way! I am the way. And the truth, and the life. And I have given you my Spirit to dwell with you always."
There is no place I would rather be than here in Your love. Set a fire down in my soul that I can't contain, that I can't control. I want more of you, God. I want more of you.
Yesterday I had a time of such sweet communion with Christ. The Spirit was reminding my heart of verses about how I want to walk in his way and be guided by his truth and his light, and that we will find him when we seek him with all our hearts!
With my busy schedule here, it is often easy to forget that my identity is in Christ. It is only by his grace and strength that I have nights in the Word before collapsing in my bed. The past fez days I have been in Ephesians 2:1-10 (thank you, Brian!!), and have been reminded to preach the truth and goodness of the gospel with my life. I've also been in the Psalms. I love the chapters that call all the nations to praise the Lord. He is sovereign even over France!
Jessica, thank you so much for that verse from Romans. It was PERFECT.
Hmm, anything else? I'm not sure what this week looks like for me. The soldes start this week! They are the big clothing sales throughout France. Awesome : ) Monique said we are going camping next weekend with her aunt and uncle, and us girls are going shopping!
Thank you all for being so supportive. You've all been wonderful! Lots of love.
Saturday, June 23, 2012
Normandie
I'm not sure where to start with this one... We visited Mont St-Michel, but I forgot about it after we went to the beaches. First was Pointe du Hoc, then the American cemetary, Omaha Beach, the German cemetary, then a museum. Mom, you would love this museum. I'd like to go back, so I'll go with you. I forget what it's called (but I have the paper!), but it was something like the Center for Peace. It was divided into two halves: the world and its wars before 1945 and the world after. It reminded me of the Holocaust museum and is very very very well-done. (Sorry, Mrs. Fields if you're reading this; I know that was an awful sentence!)
The picture below is Omaha Beach. We watched the first part of Saving Private Ryan in school (the part when the men come up onto to beach). Oh man. I cannot imagine.
Okay, I don't have a lot of time...My family is leaving again for the weekend. I'll talk fast and try to post pics later!
The cemetary on Omaha Beach is incredible. It's beautiful and so big. I wish I could describe how I'm feeling. I'll thinbk about it and get back to you.
I've been to Arlington, but this is different. The last steps these men took were in Normandie. And they never came home! I felt so honored to go to them, where they fought and stayed. Thank you, Mrs. Zamora, for suggesting we take flags.
The German cemetary was...different. I'm not sure why. The markers were black stone on the ground, much different from our white marble crosses. That was the most distinct difference. It was much simpler. But still respectful. I need to think more about it before I say more.
Also on a history note, my host dad loves history! His friend calls him "the history professor." Thank you Mr. Watt. Two nights ago I talked with my host dad about Al Capone and Prohibition in the 1920s, Obama, Sarkozy, and Bill Clinton. I know, right?
I see people here that resemble people back home. Yesterday, we were in a British memorial garden, and for a second I was so sure I saw Jake. I was really happy to see you, Jake.
That's all I have time for right now! I'll try to get some more pics up this weekend. Love you all!
The picture below is Omaha Beach. We watched the first part of Saving Private Ryan in school (the part when the men come up onto to beach). Oh man. I cannot imagine.
Okay, I don't have a lot of time...My family is leaving again for the weekend. I'll talk fast and try to post pics later!
The cemetary on Omaha Beach is incredible. It's beautiful and so big. I wish I could describe how I'm feeling. I'll thinbk about it and get back to you.
I've been to Arlington, but this is different. The last steps these men took were in Normandie. And they never came home! I felt so honored to go to them, where they fought and stayed. Thank you, Mrs. Zamora, for suggesting we take flags.
Also on a history note, my host dad loves history! His friend calls him "the history professor." Thank you Mr. Watt. Two nights ago I talked with my host dad about Al Capone and Prohibition in the 1920s, Obama, Sarkozy, and Bill Clinton. I know, right?
I see people here that resemble people back home. Yesterday, we were in a British memorial garden, and for a second I was so sure I saw Jake. I was really happy to see you, Jake.
That's all I have time for right now! I'll try to get some more pics up this weekend. Love you all!
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