Biarritz: Things I loved....

• The voyage: The train ride was beautiful. A river had over flowed its banks, putting whole orchards of sycamores and fruit trees in a blue, silvery mirror of water. Fields were lost beneath the six inches or so, and the whole landscape was beautiful as a result, seeming almost as though the stone walls and fences of the fields rose up not from the earth but instead out of a meters deep lake.

• The city: On the edge of the ocean with dramatic bluffs and overlooks and even more dramatic waves. The town has established even more trails than San Sebastian, and Jonathan and I walked along them and ate our various picnic meals and watched the numerous surfers below.
• The pastries: for breakfast we stopped into a market and ordered two tartlettes - mine was raspberry and Jonathan's was chocolate - and then ate them at another ocean overlook.
• The chocolate: Biarritz is famous for its candies and so on our last day in town Jonathan and I went to one such chocolaterie, Miremont, and splurged on two chocolate domes - mine filled with mousse de café and his filled with dark chocolate mousee. It was the richest eating experience of my life. Additionally, Miremont was a very beautiful shop with its entire back wall given up to a view of the ocean and the entire interior looking as though it had likely not changed in a hundred years, with old mirrors and arm chairs and wall hangings. It was a very elegant experience to say the least.
• The ocean. With waves more fierce and pounding than I have ever seen before.
• Taco Mex: After trying to find an open restaurant for around an hour, Jonathan and I finally stumbled upon this little gem of a place, tucked back in an alley with its neon sign beaming like a beacon of hope. We went inside and were greeted by the nicest French couple I've met so far who spoke to us in a mix of French, Spanish and English. We ordered two fajitas, which arrived, looking desolate, small and all alone on our plates. They cost 9 euros (so roughly 13 dollars) and were so paltry looking it was laughable. Suddenly! Our waitress directed us to a buffet that contained the most appatizing display of Mexican food I have ever seen! Her husband, the chef, preceded to instruct us as to which beans were best with which sauces, what to eat with the the potatoes, which sauce to put on which fajita etc. He even would endearingly say, "Please, for me, put a little more of the green sauce on your corn." Which we did. And it was incredible. The next day it was all we could do to stay away until dinner time, but once 8 o'clock rolled around we found ourselves embarassingly coming back for more. The waitress greeted us with a, "Coming back for more!?" using the cutest French accent I've yet to hear. All together some of the best Mexican food I've ever had. And such a welcome treat.
• Jonathan: One of my favorite traveling companions. On weekends like this, it almost feels like everything is a date - grocery shopping becomes romantic. I am simply crazy about him, and I'm so glad that at every turn in our lives where we could have suddenly found some way in which we're incompatible - like traveling - we instead figure out we're more compatible than we'd previously thought. So many couples have problems traveling with each other or simply have different ideas of what is important to do and see while traveling. Happily, Jonathan and I seem to have exactly the same concept of what traveling should consist of and divide our time between relaxing lethargically and then feverishly taking in the sights and tourist attractions. It's perfect. Each weekend like this has seemed so much longer than a weekend and I'm so glad to have gotten to see so many beautiful places with him!
  

Nantes Continued: The Yogurt Incident, Pumpkin Cheesecake, Le Petit Nicolas and more...

This past weekend I was quite ready for a break and so rather than going to Paris as I'd previously planned, I decided to stay in Nantes and relax and study for my midterms. And despite the fact that I know Paris would have been wonderful, I know I made the right decision. You can't do it all!

So Friday night I went out with Horance and Hanna for Sushi, which is another food I've just craved since being here. It was a pleasant enough evening; I tried Saki for the first time and found it very good. Coming outside after finishing dinnner, we found that it had started raining, and rather than going with Horace to meet up with other IES folks Hanna and I decided to go back to my apartment and watch a movie.

On the way home, we stopped by a super market and got some great caramel mousse yogurt. Arriving at the house, we said hello to Clotilde and then headed to my room. Which is when we realized we'd need spoons.

So.

This may not seem like any sort of issue at all, but I'm always so unsure of what's normal in such situations. For instance, I've never seen any of them eat anything outside of the kitchen. But we really just wanted to sit in bed and watch tv and eat yogurt. Additionally, I've never seen any of them snacking, and I didn't know how bizarre or not it would be for me at 10 o'clock to be eating yogurt in my room. So the original plan was for me to go sneak spoons out of the kitchen.

And I was scared about it.

Which is why when I ran into Clotilde in the hall I decided to just ask her if I could use two spoons to eat yogurt.

Which is when she started flipping out, in the sweetest way possible.

Saying (in French, of course):

Of course you can have spoons! of course! get some yogurt out of the fridge!

(I tell her me and Hanna bought yogurt)

What?!

You have the right to eat our yogurt! The right! you can eat yogurt anytime! you have the right! go sit in the kitchen and have some yogurt and drink some orange juice or something! are you two idiots? you don't need to buy yogurt!

She was laughing the whole time and so was I and I feel like it was a major turning point, after 2 months of being here, realizing that I can and really should chill out and just relax while I'm at home.

So anyway.

The next day Hanna and I went on a grand adventure to get moules-frites: mussles and fries. There's this little old building in the middle of the Bouffay that sells them that is ALWAYS either closed, full, or available by reservation only. This was our third or fourth attempt to get moules-frites, but it was incredibly worth it.

The building was terribly old and fabulous, very narrow but long, squeezed in between two buildings and obviously from about the 16th century. We sat on the second story and had the room all to ourselves for the first hour. I ordered mussles with cream, and Hanna ordered mussles with some sort of cheese sauce. A minute after ordering, a pound of mussles is placed in front of each of us dripping in delicious sauce. It is accompanied by a bottomless plate of the best fries I've had since being in France. We ate and ate and ate. It was the most satisfying meal of my life, and afterwards I was unbelievably tired. It was incredible.

Walking home, we passed by Clotilde's shop and stopped by. We told her we planned on making pumpkin cheesecake, and she told us that the girl who lived with them before me, Melissa, had left behind some canned pumkin, which is a good thing because you cannot buy canned pumpkin in France. So Clotilde told us how to use the oven and the stove and everything. She also gave us directions on how to get to the Park de Procé.

So going home we called Eliott Le Calvé. He is our new French friend that we met at the Conversation Club. He is very sweet and friendly and terribly in the know about what to do and where to go. He walked us to the park, which was very lovely and nice especially because unlike the Jardin, you're allowed to walk on the grass there.

We walked around there quite a while. The autmn colors are just barely existant, even at this late date, but they were pretty enough. We walked home on a greenway, and then Eliott escorted us to Monoprix to buy grociery supplies.

We had such a hard time finding everything to do with Pumpkin cheesecake. Cream cheese is practically non-existant here and very expensive. We got home and kept running into ingrediants we hadn't thought of that are less commonly used in France. Among them Vanilla and cinnamon. We also ran out of sugar. It turned into a massive undertaking, and the end product was somehow off. It might be the fact that we used a crust Clotilde already had that was not gramcracker. Or maybe it was the wierd consistancy of the cream cheese. Or maybe it was the brand of the pumpkin. Either way, the pie that we poured lots of time and money into ended up tasting kind of funky.

That night, after Clotilde insisted that Hanna and I eat some dinner before heading out for the evening and giving us coupons for the theater, Hanna and I went out again to meet Eliott to go see Le Petit Nicolas. I was a little anticipant as it was the first French movie I've ever watched without having French subtitles to read along with ( I can read French much better than I can understand it when spoken).

But! I am quite pleased to announce that I understood almost everything, other than a sentence or two now and then. I was so glad I went!

And then we took Eliott to meet some IES people at L'Huberloo. I got very animated during the evening talking to Seth about socialism and health care and America in general and was speaking very quickly and loudly. Eliott told me later that "It was great for him to hear because he'd never before heard an American talk in the back of their throat. Like in movies."

So there's that.

The next day all I did was study.

For lunch Clotilde served the Pumpkin cheese cake, which Erwan almost refused to eat, but it was just another one of those growing experiences. Rather than being mortified, as I might have been in the past, I thought the whole thing - them politely not liking the pie and trying their best to get out of eating it without letting me know thats what they were doing - really funny and endearing.

Wednesday Night Mexican Party, Jonathan in Nantes, and Avignon!

So Wednesday the 28^th of October, Elisa Faison prepared a heavenly Mexican feast for a group of us at her house. It was seriously the best present ever, since I’ve been craving Mexican food since the day after arriving here. French cuisine is still superb, don’t get me wrong, but at times it lacks variety, and Mexican was EXACTLY what I needed. The evening was a lot of fun; Forest’s French brother Benoit and his girlfriend came to the party as well, making it a legitimate French party, and we all had a lot of fun dancing, drinking margaritas, and trying to teach Benoit how to make the “th” sound. To no avail.

Thursday, after helping Elisa clean up her house, Hanna and I headed to the bus station to wait for Jonathan, who ended up arriving around 2:30pm after traveling around 13 or 15 hours. We took him for a walk in le Jardin des Plantes, around the Chateau, into the Cathedral, all of our favorite Nantes haunts. He was obviously impressed.

He came back and got to see our apartments, and then after a while we headed to the Creperie Heb Ken where we continued to impress Jonathan with our knowledge of French cuisine, advising him as to which crepes were best to eat, what kind of cider to get, etc. We also took him to get the best gelato that exists in the world. Then we met up with Horace and headed to the L’Hurluberlu, our neighborhood bar, where we met up with Forest of Sewanee. Jonathan and Forest used to live across the hall from each other Freshman year. Anyway. Talked a bit. Shared a funny moment where Forest realized he’d stepped in dog crap (a frequent occurrence in France.) After an hour or so we parted ways, Jonathan going home with Horace who graciously offered him a place to stay.

The next morning, we got up around 10. Hanna and I bought the boys some pain au chocolate, which we shared before heading to the train station for our 9 hour train ride to Avignon. This ride was a bit stressful, us having no reserved seats. We at times ended up sitting on the floor. All in all though it was pleasantly passed. It is so much more enjoyable to take a train with friends than to take a train alone.

We got in Avignon a little late, checked in to our hotel, which was excellently located but a bit ridiculous (the walls were painted bright, bright bizarre colors and the beds were all CRAZY old and droopy and had cardboard underneath the mattresses in an attempt to add support. Also, Jonathan ended up getting bit by bed bugs, I’ve been informed.)

Then we walked around. Avignon was a little crazy, it being Holiday week, and there were lots of people wandering around drunk. So the first night we didn’t stay out too late.

Our first full day in Avignon, which was actually Halloween, we got up and headed to the Palais des Papes. It was very interesting, incredibly large. I loved best the rooms where they hadn’t added a history exhibit of any sort and it was easier to imagine what it would have looked like when lived in. I find it really amazing all of the different monuments humans have built over time. Then we headed to the Pont d’Avignon. I was so glad to be there – I’ve sung the song my whole life. I got to read all about St. Benezet and how half of the bridge was swept away centuries ago in a large flood. We, of course, all danced on the bridge, finishing with a lovely Charlie Brown style dance.

That night we went to get kabobs for dinner and loaded The Nightmare Before Christmas and It’s The Great Pumpkin Charlie Brown, our only Halloween celebration consisted of watching those movies. I was a little homesick, it being the first year I’ve ever failed to dress up, carve a pumpkin, eat chili, and a number of other traditions.

The next day, we spent almost all day at the Jardin des Domes, a garden that sits atop a green hill next to the Pope Palace. It was very beautiful, full of happy French families and swans and a friendly cat. We walked around, and stopped in a church for All Saint’s Day. I bought a candle to light on behalf of the holiday. It’s strange because I was sort of kind of raised Catholic, in my early early years, and I still feel a very strong attachment at times to all of the rituals. Especially when in Europe.

We made sure to go back to the Jardin des Domes to watch the sunset. This is what it looked like:

That night, we had a more expensive meal at a nearby restaurant. It was more expensive but fairly mediocre. We also rode a carousel! Which was wonderful! And then we went to a nice bar called the Red Sky for drinks. Which was fun. Afterwards, we went back to the hotel room and stayed up for most of the night talking. About lots of serious things, like religion and relationships. It was very wonderful, and it felt so nice to have my two besties together.

Then came the long train ride home, this time Hanna and I alone. One of our trains had a weird spazatack climbing up a mountain which was slightly alarming; I would have been more scared if Hanna and I weren’t in such a goofy mood. Anyway, this made us ten minutes late, which caused us to miss our next train, which caused us to have an hour and a half lay over, but as a result we got to take a double decker train the rest of the way to Nantes. Which I enjoyed a lot.

And then.

We were back in Nantes!

My Parents in Europe: Paris, Nantes, and Salamanca!

So Friday I took the morning train to Paris. It was a beautiful dusk ride; we passed so many foggy blue rivers and sleeping villages. In Paris, I took a Metro to the West Train Station and walked to our fine 1 star hotel: Hotel du Brabant. I spoke to the manager and told him I was waiting for my parents, sat down in an easy chair next to a giant wolf-hound named Joker, and commenced to reading Madame Chrysantheme by Pierre Loti, which is excellent and very enjoyable.

I waited for around forty five minutes in the lobby, my heart skipping a beat every time I heard the sound of suitcase wheels rolling along the pavement outside (as there were many, many hotels on the street, which was named Rue des Petits-Hotels – Street of the Little Hotels.) Finally! the sound of the rolling suitcases belonged to my family – I jumped out of my chair and ran and jumped up into the arms of my brother, nearly knocking him over.

It immediately felt so wonderful to be with them again and to feel a part of my own real family. What's more - they brought me lots of my comfy winter clothes I'd left behind, various American products I'd requested - and most importantly they brought me Bowlin' - the most beloved doll in the world and the doll most near to being human. Bowlin's favorite part of Paris was the Eiffel Tower.

Paris was passed busily, with lots of Metros (a bit difficult for my father, who came with his foot in a boot as a result of an ankle spur) and lots of sights in only two days! My favorite part was probably visiting the Musee d’Orsay, which is considered to be the most beautiful museum in Europe, and was indeed extremely beautiful in its own right – it is a converted train station - and very, very full of beautiful paintings. I loved especially getting to see Monet’s Water Lilies and Van Gogh’s Starry Night.

Other high lights included: walking the Champs-Elysees, taking the street car ride up to the top of Monte Montre, Sacre Coeur, which is truly my favorite building I’ve been in the entire time, and other less epic but no less wonderful moments, like my father singing “Chestnuts Roasting on an Open Fire” while we all ate over-priced Chestnuts we bought off a bum, walking with my mother through the Jardin des Tuileries, and just getting to be with my wonderful brother, who looks and acts like such a man! It’s crazy.

Then we went through the ordeal of renting a car, which was actually wonderful in that we ended up with a super nice Fiat, and then drove to Nantes.

In Nantes, immediately after checking my parents into their hotel, we walked the two blocks to my apartment to have dinner with my host family. It was a very funny and wonderful evening! My host family tried very hard to speak English, with Arnaud working the hardest and speaking the best. I had to translate quite a bit, but it wasn’t too terribly awkward, and Clotilde went all out preparing an amazing meal. It started with Kir in the living room, then we moved into the dining room for our entre, which was fried egg, salmon and caviar with a homemade sour-cream based sauce. For our “plat principal” Clotilde prepared a traditional Moroccan meal, as she spent part of her childhood growing up in Morocco. It consisted of a lamb curry stew that was divine and served over couscous. For desert, she made a white chocolate ice cream cheese cake with a brownie crust. It was seriously one of the best things I’ve ever tasted. My parents were rightly very impressed, as was I, and kept telling Clotilde and Arnaud how badly they’re going to spoil me. It is true that I do have it very, very good here.

While in Nantes, we also went to a traditional Breton Creprie, went to a few bars with Hanna in tow, and while I was in class my parents visited the Cathedral and Chateau and Jules Verne museum and all that. In all, I think they discovered that Nantes is a truly wonderful town.

And then Tuesday night, in the middle of rush hour traffic and a rain storm, we headed out of Nantes for Salamanca.

It was an incredibly long and taxing drive, longer than I think we had all expected, but it felt very comforting in a way, to be on a road trip with my family – it is the time of the year for such drives – traditionally driving between Nashville and Knoxville or Nashville and Detroit – and it felt somehow suiting to me that we should have such a road trip now since there will be no such experience this Thanksgiving.

On the way down the coast, we stopped in Biarritz for lunch and San Sebastian just to see it, and both towns were very lovely. In San Sebastian, the tide was coming in and was crashing in full waves over the ramparts, completely drenching pedestrians and cars. The power of nature is so incredible – even in civilized, ancient Europe.

We arrived in Salamanca a bit later than anticipated as a result of rain, and so it was dark when we approached the city. It seemed to be surrounded by a vast empty space, devoid of lights, which we came to discover was in fact a desert. Gross. But.
Salamanca is beautiful. I would say that it is very much the Spanish equivalent to Nantes – not too large or too small, not too touristy. It does seem much cheaper than Nantes, which is certainly an advantage.

Additionally, as mentioned previously, Spanish culture seems much more flamboyant than French culture and this was evident in everything: people are friendlier, architecture more intricate and less reserved, bars louder and more raucous, etc. Even the color of the earth – the warm brownish orange of the sand and stone that comprise the buildings – is much more welcoming than the straight lines and cool colors of the while limestone buildings of Nantes and northern France. It is quite amazing actually how different the two countries are despite the fact that they share a border.

Jonathan was such an excellent host! He met us the first night in the town plaza, after which we checked into our hotel and then found a Kebab restaurant to eat at since we’d arrived so late most other restaurants were closed. The next morning we met him after his first class, had tortilla’s at a nearby bar, then visited the cathedral.

It was seriously the grandest most beautiful building I’ve ever seen. It is so immense and decorated so intricately and vibrantly, with lots of gold and bright colors and stone carvings. It was also incredibly tall and large and light.

Wonderful.

We visited an ancient Roman bridge, various beautiful university buildings, an Art Deco museum, roof top gardens. Joey and I also went with Jonathan to his apartment to meet his Senora Maria. She seemed very funny and boisterous, and Jonathan’s house mate Matt was very friendly and sweet. I did find though, that the standard of living between Nantes and Salamanca is very different: Jonathan’s apartment was much smaller than the de Kermadec’s, much more modern and less attractive. He also explained how much more cautious he has to be about using lights and taking long showers, etc, as in Spain such things are very expensive for the average individual like Maria.

In contrast, such things aren’t too terribly expensive in France, and the de Kermadec’s are decidedly wealthy. (I was cautious the first few days about using lights, etc, as in our Introduction material we were told that French people are very stingy with their electricity uses – however this only resulted in Arnaud coming in the room and asking me if I could see alright, acting like I might be a little crazy doing my homework in dim lighting, and then flipping on several lights for my benefit.)

I met several of Jonathan’s friends and they all seemed really wonderful. Spanish foreign exchange students might be, surprise surprise, slightly less pretentious than French foreign exchange students.

I hated leaving Jonathan. I cried, as usual. It was dumb.

And then came the ride back towards Paris. We ended up spending the night Bayonne, where we had coffee the next morning. Then we drove up to Tours, where we had dinner and walked around a bit before heading to the train station where I said goodbye to my parents.

It was incredibly hard on me, I love the three of them so much, and they have always, the three of them, been my closest and best friends. I feel so lucky to get to have such a great relationship with them, so blessed that my parents raised me to be close to them and also raised Joey to be someone who I truly feel will remain my best friend for the rest of my life, but all these factors contribute to making such separations truly, truly difficult. I cried so hard.

The following things are a consolation:

• that when I see them next, it will be glorious, heavenly Christmas time.
• that when I see them next, plans will be underway for them to give me my very own little kitten named Pantoufles.
• that despite the fact that I was incredibly sad in Tours, shortly after arriving in Nantes I went out with some friends and had a great night
• that I am enjoying myself so much and have a great situation: good host family, good town, good classes
• that I have a Hanna that I get to see every day
• that I have a Jonathan that I get to see two to three times a month

Mostly, I know that I wouldn't change anything about this experience. It has been such a blessing, such a challenge, but I feel that I have grown and continue to grow as a person because of it. I truly feel that it was neccessary for me to do this - it is something that I've talked of doing my whole academic career - and I am just sooo grateful that I have parents and friends and a university that all support me in such endeavors.

And now I am off to Avignon with Hanna and Jonathan. Huzzah!

Catching up: San Sebastian, Life as a Vrai Nantaise, etc...

Traveling is so exhausting, and frequently when I get home I'm too worn out to do much at all, and so I've been a bit remiss in updating my blog.

Zut!

Thursday, October 8, woke up incredibly early (5:30am - yuck!) with the help of three alarms and a phone call from my parents. Laughed to/at myself as I made my way to the tram station, for the following reason: It is abnormal for the French to be up so early, so whenever I passed someone walking, I eyed them suspiciously and thought, "They are so weird. What could they possibly be doing up this early?" and they in turn viewed me suspiciously, thinking, "What's this girl doing up so early? She must be a delinquent or crazy." It was very funny and very noticeable.

I love trams and wish Nashville had them. They are crazy convenient.

In the train station I continued to be overly cautious, as I always am, sitting sleepy and hunched over on a bench with my foot wrapped through the strap of my backpack to keep it from being stolen - despite the fact that Nantes does not really have a problem with such things. I'm sure I look stupid but I can't help being too careful: I'm my father's daughter.

It took me FIVE trains to get to San Sebastian. Or it would have, if things had gone well, but I'm getting ahead of myself. I adored all my trains this go around. I sat and watched people, business commuters, sleepy and unamused or sometimes talking with their customary traveling companions, teenagers, nervous traveling by themselves, their mother's waving goodbye to them from outside the train, children being adorable, couples snuggling. Everyone rides trains.

When I got to Hendaye, there was a 25 minute delay, which meant I missed my next train. I got my ticket refunded and attempted to buy another ticket while in France,where I spoke the language, but was informed at the desk that I should wait till getting in Irun.

Boarded the train to Irun, only to find that it didn't actually go to Irun, but stopped instead in the town just before Irun. Everyone exited the train, following directions given in Spanish. I talked to a conductor who pointed to a bus - I got on the bus, not too sure I was doing what was correct but trying to verify as best I could.

There had been a strike at some point, I believe in Bordeaux, and so we had to take a bus the rest of the way to Irun.

The minute I got on the bus - I noticed a difference in the passengers. They were talking to one another, loudly, friendly, jovially. They were speaking French, but with a strange accent. I was thinking how odd it was to see French people being so chatty, which is when on cue all the women switched to Spanish, which was obviously their native tongue. So from the instant I arrived in Spain, I noted a marked difference between the Spanish and the French and that difference can be summed up by a general friendliness towards others, especially strangers, that the French seem to lack.

In Irun, I still needed to buy a ticket to San Sebastian. No one in Irun, which is just over the French/Spanish boarder, spoke French. It was unbelievable. I finally sort of kind of got the feeling that I was supposed to buy a tram ticket that would take me to San Sebastian, confirmed this vague notion with an Australian family who said they were under the same impression, and bought the tram ticket to take me into San Sebastian.

So that was my all day, 10 hour train journey adventure, completed mostly peacefully, and entirely by myself. I am proud.

And then I was in San Sebastian! Which is currently my favorite city in the world!

Jonathan had had a similar misadventure getting there, and he was set to arrive via bus an hour or so after I arrived. So. I walked around the city a bit by myself. It was so beautiful! Just stepping out of the train station the city presented itself so romantically and beautifully: the river, lined with a promenade and rows of trees, just starting to turn their autumnal gold. I was in heaven.

When Jonathan got there, he called and I hurried my way back to the train station, just in time to catch him looking around for me, while an orchestral version of "A Whole New World" from Aladdin played and we greeted each other with a kiss while the music crescendoed. C'etait parfait.

The next three days were passed so wonderfully - walking around casually, not trying to do or see too much, just trying to relax and enjoy getting to be together in the most beautiful city on earth. We walked along the beach and the ramparts and along the river, went to get tapas and beers, walked up one of the mountains to a castle and chapel on the top with a fantastic view of the city, took an old tram ride up to the top of the other mountain and walked down both, ate lots of gelatto, pastries, etc, went shopping for some clothes for Jonathan at H&M, went swimming!!! (and the water wasn't even too cold) ate lots of picnic lunches on benches with good views, etc. It was one of the best weekends of my life, spent perfectly, seeing neither too much nor too little.

I love Spain. It feels very different from France - less reserved, a bit more like a party. The people all seem just a bit friendlier - even the architecture is more flamboyant than the reserved style of French buildings. So I'm excited to go back so soon!

Heading home again, I cried at the train station, just like last time, and even stupider than last time because I'm driving down to visit Jonathan with my family in a week.

Nantes is starting to feel more and more like home. Not as good as a real home, but I'm growing accustomed to everything. I walk around the city and feel like a true Nantaise, and that is a wonderful feeling. My French is improving, I believe - I now can understand almost everything my family or professors say, though of course sometimes I still get lost. I know where to get good coffee cheaply, good pain au chocolate, good gelatto, good pizza, and do so when I need a pick me up. I say things like, "Let's meet in the Place Royale," and then in the Place Royale, I wind up in lots of tourists' pictures, sitting on the fountain steps with Hanna eating a sandwich on a large baguette, our scarves thrown over our shoulders, and I'm sure those tourists think, "Oh! And we got these French girls in our picture. Look at how typically French!" But really its just two Americans getting really good at pretending.

I am still having a very difficult time with school work. I anticipated spending all of my 15 hours or so in trains this past weekend studying, but in reality spent closer to 15 minutes. It is a real problem, but I think it is one most of the students here are experiencing. So hopefully it will be fine.

It is difficult though because the French teachers here are trying to emulate the American University system but failing miserably. I feel it would be better for them to either just do things the French way, but trying to pretend that this is the way American schools work is stupid. For instance, Hanna has two mid-terms planned for one of her classes. So they obviously don't get what a midterm is. And we have a "Devoir" deadline, which is when our homework is due. But its just one assignment. They don't seem to grasp that homework is actually a recurring, three or four times a semester deal. Its mostly funny, but also confusing.


Mostly though, I have decided that this is the last Autumn and Winter I ever want to spend away from home. I love traveling, and I plan on doing it for the rest of my life, but in the future I plan on doing it between January and September. October-December seems so suited to being home, to being snuggly, walking around in long john pjs, or footy pajamas, sipping tea all hours of the day, etc. And it is just impossible to do these things living with a family you're not actually a part of, or living in hotels.

So. Caitlin Gilliam better appreciate that I chose (and Hanna and Jonathan chose) to study abroad in the Fall almost specifically so that we could be there for her graduation in the Spring.

In other news, my parents get here tomorrow! I'm taking an 8 o'clock train to meet them in Paris, where we will spend two nights. I am so excited! I have missed them so badly, and cannot wait to show off my European/French skills and hangouts.