I’m starting to think I look kind of French. I don’t mean that I look French in the stereotypical kind of way; I’m not super skinny with pointy, chiseled features. I don’t walk around with a cigarette in my hand at all times. Though, I do wear a lot of black, and I do have pretty short hair. Okay, I guess what I mean to say is, I’m starting to think I can pass for French. And here’s why:
Lately, almost every day, someone comes up to me either on the street or in the metro station and asks me for directions. For those of you who know me well, this probably sounds hilarious to you. Yeah, yeah, yeah… But they often ask me for directions that I actually know how to give! For example: how to get to the metro station in a certain direction. I’ve been getting that one a lot lately. And not only do I know what to say, but when I’m done, it appears that they have no idea that I’m not actually French. And that makes me feel awesome.
Something that I do find strange, though, is that I more often than not get addressed as “Madame,” rather than “Mademoiselle.” I thought “Madame” was for people who look at least 27. I hope I don’t look like I’m 27. But maybe Mademoiselle has become more of a “young lady” type moniker, one reserved for preteens and teenagers that wish they looked older than they do. Maybe I should be flattered that I’m a “Madame.”
Speaking of “Madames” I am also called this by my students. For those of you who don’t know, I’ve been working as an English assistant in a vocational high school in Croix Rousse (only a two minute walk from my apartment, which is amazing) for the past three weeks. I was so happy to get this job, and it’s been going really well. Not only is it a really good experience in general (mainly because I kind of think, deep down, that I want to be a teacher), but it’s also so incredibly interesting for me. Because it’s a vocational school, the students are there to learn a specific trade/profession, which means their general education level is lower than students their age in other schools (so their English is at a pretty low level). The students are very unmotivated, and pretty disrespectful (this isn’t quite the right word, but for lack of a better one) during class; they’ll talk to each other, even answer their cell phones sometimes, and they often flat out refuse to do something if they don’t want to do it, which is usually speak in English. Also, I think out of the six to eight classes that I teach, I have about 4 or 5 white kids, and some of the students I have are my age, a couple are even older than me. I found this all out during my first week.
During the first week, I was with all the students and the teacher (I work with two different teachers, three of their classes each), and they just had the students ask me questions, discussion style. In each class, there were only about 4 kids who actually asked me questions. Many of them who wouldn’t directly talk to me would ask one of these kids a question in French and have the representative translate and ask me in English. Some of them would translate everything I said kind of to themselves, kind of to everyone into French immediately after I said it. In any case, being from California scored me some serious popularity points, as did my Nike Dunks. In every class, someone asked me about: celebrities, and which ones I knew; whether or not I liked Bush; if I had a boyfriend; if everyone in America eats McDonalds; and which is better, France or America? Some of them asked me if I smoked weed, some of them asked me how much money I was making for doing this (I didn’t respond to these ones, don’t worry Dad). There were way more guys than girls; a couple of the classes were only guys. Basically, this was/is the complete opposite of my high school.
But I love it. Some of the kids are hilarious. We have a lot of discussions about rap music (they all love it), and once after class, during which we discussed Soulja Boy, one of the students played the song on his cell phone and we did the dance together.
Since that first week, I’ve done some other things with the students besides talk about California and rap music. We’ve done some worksheets, had some grammar lessons. Usually, now, the teacher gives me half the class and we go into a separate room, so it’s just me and the kids. We’ll see how it progresses, but so far I’m really enjoying it.
Thursday, November 29, 2007
Tuesday, November 27, 2007
No School For You
Here’s something I’ve been meaning to write about: strikes in France.
If you don’t already know, both transportation and student strikes are very popular in France; on average they happen about every 3 months. In October, there was a TCL strike (TCL represents all the metros, trams, and buses in Lyon, maybe everywhere in France for that matter, but that I don’t know). Not all of the metros, trams and buses were included in the strike, but some were, meaning they either came significantly less frequently or they didn’t come at all. This happened when I was living in St-Genis-Laval, and the only possible way I could get to school/into town was the 10 bus, and the 10 bus was on strike. That was only for one day.
About a week and a half ago, SNCF (which represents all the trains in France) decided to go on strike. It was virtually impossible to get a train anywhere in or out of the country. This was the case for a few days. Since then it’s gotten better, but it’s not over.
The same time that the SNCF strike started up, so did a student strike. In a nutshell, Lyon decided to privatize the university system, so the tuition to attend Université Lumière Lyon 2 (my school) is going up from basically free (200 euros a year) to 500 euros a year for French students. I know: 500 euros a year. I wish these students could spend a day in the shoes of almost everyone I know attending a four year university in the States, I really do. To pay 500 euros a year would be amazing, a cause for celebration, but evidently it couldn’t be farther from that for the French. So anyway, as a result, the students at my University, all last week and so far this week as well, have been literally blockading my school. They have literally been putting tables and chairs in front of all the entrances to the school and standing around them in huge groups, not letting anybody in. Professors, students… everyone. And as a result of this, I have not had school for the past week and a half. I couldn’t go to class if I wanted to. It is insane. And apparently it’s entirely NORMAL for this to happen here! It’s really quite amazing; this could never ever ever happen in the States! And not that I don’t enjoy having the free time, but I’m getting a bit bored, and more importantly, I’m starting to worry even more about being able to pass my classes if there’s bound to be so much catching up to do. Also, I don’t really agree with what the students are doing here. It’s one thing to go on strike and say that you’re not going to attend class as a form of protest, but it’s another to stop everyone else from going to classes if they want to. Yesterday, our program director wasn’t entirely sure if classes wouldn’t be going on so Amanda and I decided to try and go to our (horrible) 19th century French Lit class. We had to walk all the way around the building to secretly enter a side door because of course all the main entrances were blocked. On our way there, we ran into our professor for the class. We asked her if we had class today and she seemed baffled that we would even ask such a thing. As if she wanted to say, “Of course not you silly Americans, haven’t you ever been in a student blockading strike before?” Instead she said, “Ben… non.” Which is the equivalent of “Well uh… no,” and she told us that she wasn’t sure when we’d have it again.
After that, I needed to go to Centre Oregon to use the internet (the reason I do not yet have it in my apartment is long and unimportant for the purposes of this blog, but I WILL have it within the next week and a half, for sure). I had to go through a mass of protesters to get there. This was NOT easy. There were actually people physically blocking other people from going through this outdoor archway. One guy tried to jump over a table and a protester grabbed him and shoved him back. I was so frustrated, and honestly somewhat scared, so I just yelled, in English. “I’m not trying to go to class, I just want to go to my FUCKING program office, let me THROUGH!” The bad news is a lot of people turned to look at me and it was pretty embarrassing. But the good news is it totally worked! Someone even kind of helped me weave through everyone. And today, on my way to Centre Oregon, there were much less people (actually only about 5) blocking the way, and all I had to say was “Hi, I’m American.” I started to say “Can I go?” after that, but I didn’t even need to, they immediately moved aside and said “Ah oui oui, oui oui oui…” They even looked kind of NERVOUS about it, like I was some kind of authority figure (not that they give a shit about any actual authority figures here). This will probably be one of the only times, if not the only, where “American” is the magic word.
Anyway, no one is sure when this will end. And it’s not like I could travel anywhere with all this free time because of the SNCF strike! Apparently two years ago, they had one of these that lasted for an entire month. People say that this one will probably be over after this week, but who knows. C’est la vie, I suppose…
If you don’t already know, both transportation and student strikes are very popular in France; on average they happen about every 3 months. In October, there was a TCL strike (TCL represents all the metros, trams, and buses in Lyon, maybe everywhere in France for that matter, but that I don’t know). Not all of the metros, trams and buses were included in the strike, but some were, meaning they either came significantly less frequently or they didn’t come at all. This happened when I was living in St-Genis-Laval, and the only possible way I could get to school/into town was the 10 bus, and the 10 bus was on strike. That was only for one day.
About a week and a half ago, SNCF (which represents all the trains in France) decided to go on strike. It was virtually impossible to get a train anywhere in or out of the country. This was the case for a few days. Since then it’s gotten better, but it’s not over.
The same time that the SNCF strike started up, so did a student strike. In a nutshell, Lyon decided to privatize the university system, so the tuition to attend Université Lumière Lyon 2 (my school) is going up from basically free (200 euros a year) to 500 euros a year for French students. I know: 500 euros a year. I wish these students could spend a day in the shoes of almost everyone I know attending a four year university in the States, I really do. To pay 500 euros a year would be amazing, a cause for celebration, but evidently it couldn’t be farther from that for the French. So anyway, as a result, the students at my University, all last week and so far this week as well, have been literally blockading my school. They have literally been putting tables and chairs in front of all the entrances to the school and standing around them in huge groups, not letting anybody in. Professors, students… everyone. And as a result of this, I have not had school for the past week and a half. I couldn’t go to class if I wanted to. It is insane. And apparently it’s entirely NORMAL for this to happen here! It’s really quite amazing; this could never ever ever happen in the States! And not that I don’t enjoy having the free time, but I’m getting a bit bored, and more importantly, I’m starting to worry even more about being able to pass my classes if there’s bound to be so much catching up to do. Also, I don’t really agree with what the students are doing here. It’s one thing to go on strike and say that you’re not going to attend class as a form of protest, but it’s another to stop everyone else from going to classes if they want to. Yesterday, our program director wasn’t entirely sure if classes wouldn’t be going on so Amanda and I decided to try and go to our (horrible) 19th century French Lit class. We had to walk all the way around the building to secretly enter a side door because of course all the main entrances were blocked. On our way there, we ran into our professor for the class. We asked her if we had class today and she seemed baffled that we would even ask such a thing. As if she wanted to say, “Of course not you silly Americans, haven’t you ever been in a student blockading strike before?” Instead she said, “Ben… non.” Which is the equivalent of “Well uh… no,” and she told us that she wasn’t sure when we’d have it again.
After that, I needed to go to Centre Oregon to use the internet (the reason I do not yet have it in my apartment is long and unimportant for the purposes of this blog, but I WILL have it within the next week and a half, for sure). I had to go through a mass of protesters to get there. This was NOT easy. There were actually people physically blocking other people from going through this outdoor archway. One guy tried to jump over a table and a protester grabbed him and shoved him back. I was so frustrated, and honestly somewhat scared, so I just yelled, in English. “I’m not trying to go to class, I just want to go to my FUCKING program office, let me THROUGH!” The bad news is a lot of people turned to look at me and it was pretty embarrassing. But the good news is it totally worked! Someone even kind of helped me weave through everyone. And today, on my way to Centre Oregon, there were much less people (actually only about 5) blocking the way, and all I had to say was “Hi, I’m American.” I started to say “Can I go?” after that, but I didn’t even need to, they immediately moved aside and said “Ah oui oui, oui oui oui…” They even looked kind of NERVOUS about it, like I was some kind of authority figure (not that they give a shit about any actual authority figures here). This will probably be one of the only times, if not the only, where “American” is the magic word.
Anyway, no one is sure when this will end. And it’s not like I could travel anywhere with all this free time because of the SNCF strike! Apparently two years ago, they had one of these that lasted for an entire month. People say that this one will probably be over after this week, but who knows. C’est la vie, I suppose…
Monday, November 26, 2007
Not Exactly Thanksgiving
Thursday, November 22nd was a big day for America. Not so much for France. But we Americans here in Lyon did get something. Centre Oregon (our exchange program) funded a big Thanksgiving meal for us at a very fancy restaurant called “Institut Vatel.” From the moment I walked in the door, I knew this was going to be completely unlike any Thanksgiving I’d ever had, and most likely will ever have in my life: there were attendants waiting to take our coats and purses.
There were 50 to 60 of us total; we were allowed to invite friends, host family members, etc (Ruby and I brought Julia). After schmoozing for a while, we seated ourselves at one of the fancy round tables that sat about 10 people each. We were immediately given bread and wine. Soon after, the first course followed (yes, we were served our Thanksgiving meal in courses). This was a salad that included lots of different kinds of vegetables. I thoroughly enjoyed it, but I also realized that I’d never eaten salad (traditional salad) on Thanksgiving before, and everyone else around the table said the same (except for Julia, who of course, had never had a Thanksgiving before). Then it was time for the main course. Before it was served, though, the head chef brought out the turkey. A real turkey, picture perfect. He walked around the entire room with it on a platter, showing everyone. We all clapped. Besides the turkey, the main course was pretty unThanksgiving-esque. No mashed potatoes (sigh), no stuffing, no gravy, no cranberry sauce (bigger sigh). But it was still a lot of fun. We all laughed about how different everything was, and reminisced about our respective Thanksgivings at home. We also explained various aspects of Thanksgiving to the three French people at our table (Julia, and Morgan’s-a friend from the program-host parents). Morgan’s host parents were hilarious, especially the dad. He’s one of the most sarcastically dry people I’ve ever meant and seriously just doesn’t give a fuck about what he says. You really had to have been there to understand exactly what I mean, but he was pretty entertaining.
Finally it was time for desert, which included two “pies” (as well as a tray of cookies and stuff). One of the pies was this chocolate caramel thing that was verrrrry delicious. The other was a sorry attempt at pumpkin. It really didn’t taste anything like actual pumpkin pie. But, I appreciate their effort. And, I mean, I ate it of course.
All in all, it was a very different holiday than we were all used to, but I think we made the most of it. When I talked to my family later that night, I got really sad and homesick, because I missed my Thanksgiving at home. But later on, Ruby and I had a long discussion about homesickness, and decided we’re done with it. It was hard talking to everyone in the moment, but I realized that this is one Thanksgiving out of so many, and I really just need to enjoy my time in France while I’m here. So that’s what I’m going to from now on: enjoy this French life to the fullest.
And hey, even though it was so different, this Thanksgiving did share something in common with every other Thanksgiving I’ve had: I was VERY full after the meal. : )
There were 50 to 60 of us total; we were allowed to invite friends, host family members, etc (Ruby and I brought Julia). After schmoozing for a while, we seated ourselves at one of the fancy round tables that sat about 10 people each. We were immediately given bread and wine. Soon after, the first course followed (yes, we were served our Thanksgiving meal in courses). This was a salad that included lots of different kinds of vegetables. I thoroughly enjoyed it, but I also realized that I’d never eaten salad (traditional salad) on Thanksgiving before, and everyone else around the table said the same (except for Julia, who of course, had never had a Thanksgiving before). Then it was time for the main course. Before it was served, though, the head chef brought out the turkey. A real turkey, picture perfect. He walked around the entire room with it on a platter, showing everyone. We all clapped. Besides the turkey, the main course was pretty unThanksgiving-esque. No mashed potatoes (sigh), no stuffing, no gravy, no cranberry sauce (bigger sigh). But it was still a lot of fun. We all laughed about how different everything was, and reminisced about our respective Thanksgivings at home. We also explained various aspects of Thanksgiving to the three French people at our table (Julia, and Morgan’s-a friend from the program-host parents). Morgan’s host parents were hilarious, especially the dad. He’s one of the most sarcastically dry people I’ve ever meant and seriously just doesn’t give a fuck about what he says. You really had to have been there to understand exactly what I mean, but he was pretty entertaining.
Finally it was time for desert, which included two “pies” (as well as a tray of cookies and stuff). One of the pies was this chocolate caramel thing that was verrrrry delicious. The other was a sorry attempt at pumpkin. It really didn’t taste anything like actual pumpkin pie. But, I appreciate their effort. And, I mean, I ate it of course.
All in all, it was a very different holiday than we were all used to, but I think we made the most of it. When I talked to my family later that night, I got really sad and homesick, because I missed my Thanksgiving at home. But later on, Ruby and I had a long discussion about homesickness, and decided we’re done with it. It was hard talking to everyone in the moment, but I realized that this is one Thanksgiving out of so many, and I really just need to enjoy my time in France while I’m here. So that’s what I’m going to from now on: enjoy this French life to the fullest.
And hey, even though it was so different, this Thanksgiving did share something in common with every other Thanksgiving I’ve had: I was VERY full after the meal. : )
Tuesday, November 20, 2007
A Barcelona Birfday
I’ve claimed London to be my favorite city in the entire world ever since I first went there when I was 14 years old. And this stayed true for a while: 7 years in fact. But after going to Barcelona, I’m no longer so sure.
After a very, very exciting night, Ruby, Molly and I hopped on our Easyjet plane on the morning of Friday, November 9th, and landed in a truly amazing place. Even just walking through the city to our hostel was awesome; everything was colorful, and beautiful, and WARM! (Lyon is unbearably freezing cold at the moment. Last Thursday I honestly think was the coldest weather I have ever experienced in my life. It snowed (nothing exciting, just flakes, no sticking) at night, but there was this face biting, ice making wind that was going strong throughout the day. Truly, so, SO cold). About 5 minutes after we got to our hostel (which was really cool: lots of art (graffiti and otherwise) all over the walls, everyone was our age and all smiles, all around just a really relaxed, fun place), Braden and Jake walked in the door! They’d already been at the hostel for two nights, and had nothing but great things to say about Barcelona.
After getting settled, we made our way to Las Ramblas, the main street in the downtown area. There, we met many strange street performers. I guess they’re there everyday. But they were the weirdest street performers I’d ever seen. Sure, there were the standard ones that stay perfectly still until you put money in their tin, upon which they do something. But there was also: a man dressed as an enormous fat woman. A woman covered in fruits and vegetables. A real creepy guy perched on a metallic chair who stealthily used one of his arms to move around a head (no body), who appeared to be his domestic pet, best friend, and lover all in one. And best (as in strangest) of all: an upside down table, with a hole cut out of it in the middle, with a pillow blocking what’s underneath, with fake legs attached to the top of the table, and when someone puts money in the jar, this guy, face painted in all white wearing a baseball cap, pops his head out of the hole, sticks his arms out of the sides of this upside down table, and sort of rocks back and forth in a little dance for about 10 seconds. That’s really the only way I know how to describe it. It was one of the weirdest things I’ve ever seen.
Eventually we went over to Mercat de la Boqueria, which is this huge market that sells all kinds of food, on Las Ramblas. Here, we met Karyn and Betsy. It was a really magical reunion. Molly and I bought a fresh squeezed strawberry banana juice at the Market, and we were off. For the rest of the day, we mainly just explored the city. For dinner, we went to a bar called L’Oveja Negra (or something), which means Black Sheep. It was a cool place, kind of like an old tavern. We were nearly the only people there, though, since it was something like 9:00, and shit doesn’t even get started until around 1:00am apparently. But it was still fun, we all just talked and reminisced and relaxed. We called it an early night because we were all so exhausted.
The next day was Saturday, and also my birthday. Also, Courtney had now joined us, making our party complete! The first thing we did was a 4-hour bike tour of the city. This was wonderful. We started out in the Old City, where we saw a lot of old, historical buildings and learned about a lot of Barcelona’s history, which was quite interesting. Next, we headed to a really cool park (that I unfortunately do not remember the name of), but it was really beautiful. It was filled with palm trees, and was equipped with a lagoon full of paddleboats, as well as a really beautiful statue that kind of reminded me of the statue in Place Terraux here in Lyon. Additionally, next to the park was Barcelona’s very own Arc de Triomphe. Seriously, it’s even called that (Spanish style). It looks a lot like the French one too. I think Chris, our tour guide, said something about how the Spaniards liked the French one so much that they built their own. I must admit, it made me sort of proud. Anyway, biking through the park was lovely. Then we headed to La Sagrada Familia, Gaudi’s lifelong project that he was working on up until his death. It is an ENORMOUS Catholic church that is unlike anything else in the entire world. Standing right there before it honestly blew me away. It’s the most detailed architecture I’ve ever seen! They’re working to finish what Gaudi started, and have been doing so since his death, so it’s constantly under construction, which is kind of too bad, but I barely even noticed it, the building is just that impressive. They expect it to be finished within 40 years. The reason it’s taking so long is now that they’ve finished everything from the plans for it Gaudi left, they’re trying to finished it based on exactly how they think Gaudi would have wanted it. It’s already so tall, but they’re going to build one extra tall tower in the middle of it, which will be 115 meters high! Huge. Anyway, it was really amazing.
Ah, also, while at the La Sagrada Familia, our American tour guide Chris got in a fight with a passing tour guide. Basically, Fat Tire bike tours are not sponsored by the city, or something, and this city sponsored tour guide passed us and said, in English, “DO NOT LISTEN TO THIS MAN, THIS MAN IS A LIAR!” when Chris was talking to us about La Sagrada Familia. As she was walking away, Chris yelled after her, “And that’s a BITCH who doesn’t know what the FUCK she’s talking about!” He also said something about how “real tour guides don’t need microphones” …I guess she was wearing one. It was a bit disconcerting, and while Chris tried to play it off afterward, he kept bringing it up at various points throughout the tour. I think he has some anger issues.
Next we headed to the beach where we stopped for some snacks and drinks, and admired the beauty, and eventually headed back into Old Town. While many Catalonians were less than happy about the gang of bikes weaving through the streets, and even though Chris was kind of a tool, it was a really fun time, and a really cool way to see a lot of the city. Later on, back at the hostel, Braden and Jake gave me two things: first, a glass full of pomegranate absinthe. Second, my birthday present: my very own grill. It is incredible. I got a whole top diamond and sapphire. I wore it for the rest of the day and night. My mouf was lookin sumthin like a disco bawl. (Mom, since you already read Courtney’s post and have since asked me what a grill is, it’s an apparatus that you insert into your mouth that goes over your teeth to pimp them out, which means make them look cool. They generally involve jewels, like diamonds). After continuing our absinthe party at the fly honey hostel, and eating some very delicious soup, we bought a lot of cheap wine and headed to Park Guel. This is the huge Gaudi park in Barcelona (back in the day, Gaudi built two houses in this area, each for a wealthy Catalonian family. The families didn’t like them, so Gaudi turned the area into a park and gave it to the city). When we went there Saturday night it was dark, so we didn’t do much exploring around the park. But we did find a little cove with a view of the entire city, and it was too beautiful. Sitting there, eating cheese and drinking wine and laughing, I looked around at everyone there and felt so incredibly lucky. Here I was, in (maybe) the most amazing city I’d ever been to, with some of the people that matter to me most in this world, and there was just so much love, and I was just so happy. Maybe I didn’t get to have a big 21st birthday in America, and there are some other people I would have loved to spend it with, but, in the end, I really couldn’t have asked for anything better.
We drank all the wine. We had some ridiculous photo shoots. We took in the breathtaking view. Happy Birthday was sung. Then Betsy had us all do something really cool: a kind of cinnamon roll type hug. Everyone holds hands in a circle, and since it was my birthday, I was in the middle. I stay stationary, and then everyone else runs in a circle around me until we’re all wrapped up super tight. It was great. We did a bunch of them.
Finally, after spending a significant amount of time in this amazing park, we decided to hit up tha club. I really wanted to go to this place called Razzmatazz (a club with five floors, with a different type of music happening on each), but it was kind of far out and, well, I don’t really know why we didn’t go there in the end, but we went to somewhere called Catwalk. There were two floors at this one: the bottom was electro (but, sadly, shitty electro), and the top was hip hop and rap. I was a big hit with my grill. We broke it down upstairs for most of the night, got hit on by a lot of sleazy guys, and got saved from all of them by Jake. It was all really fun though.
Jake and Braden had to leave really early Sunday morning, so I said goodbye to them when we got back to the hostel at 5:30am. Karyn and Betsy had to leave in the late morning, so we got some verrrry tasty ice cream (France is still in the lead for ice cream though will probably take second to Italy when I go there at some point), and said goodbye. And then there were three. Molly, Ruby and I decided to go back to Park Guel so that we could actually see it during the day. We ended up spending the entire day there. I think that park was my favorite thing about Barcelona. I can’t really describe everything about it that made it so cool, but it’s amazing. The palm trees and these brown, manmade clay columns with little nooks in them really reminded us of Donkey Kong. Then there was the big veranda, with a long mosaic framed bench that wrapped around it all, that overlooks the entire city. Best view of the city there is, I imagine. If any of you have seen L’Auberge Espangol, this is where that scene of Xavier and Anne Sophie (when they’re looking out at the city, and give way to their sexual tension) is filmed. We spent a lot of time in this area, because there was a man making amazing giant bubbles, and a lot of hilarious Spanish children reacting to it, and a lot of great people watching opportunities in general. Then we went and checked out those two Gaudi houses. I realize that his work was so different and original and ahead of his time that people didn’t like it, but those families had to have been crazy not to want to live in these things. They’re so cool! They look like melted gingerbread houses, and the mosaics are so neat. The park is also home to that super famous Gaudi lizard (I believe he’s an iguana). I’ve never seen so many tourists trying to take pictures with something. Ruby got a lot of pictures of various people with the lizard in an attempt to get one of me with it.
As the sun was setting, we continued to explore the park. Finally, it was dark, and after spending a good 6 hours in Park Guel, we decided to leave. We were making our way to the exit gate, and just as we were approaching it, we heard a noise that went something like this “Fss fssshh fssshhh.” Kind of a whispering, whistling noise. Then all of a sudden I hear Ruby and Molly go “Oh my God, Oh my GOD…” and see them start running toward the gate. I’m confused and say, “What, what!?!?” and one of them says, “THERE’S A NAKED MAN RIGHT THERE.” I look up, into the bushes about 5 feet above us, and sure enough, there is a stark naked man looking down at us, wiggling his dick and smiling. We got the FUCK out of the park. None of us could believe it! We were flashed! You can’t really call it flashing though, since there were no clothes to begin with. We looked for someone to report this man to, but couldn’t find anyone, and decided to just leave since we were all pretty freaked out by it. It was pretty fucked up, but also a pretty hilarious way for our day at Park Guel to end.
Monday morning we tried to go to the Picasso museum but it was closed. We peeked in the windows though, at least. Since we couldn’t go to the museum, we walked down some back streets near our hostel and saw a lot of cool street art. We also popped into a really beautiful church. Finally, we came back to Lyon. None of us wanted to leave. We all kind of wished we were studying abroad in Barcelona instead, I think. But, Lyon has its pros. And there’s no way I’m going to attempt to learn Catalan. And the weekend wouldn’t have been so special if we were living there the whole year. And it was a very special weekend indeed.
The end.
After a very, very exciting night, Ruby, Molly and I hopped on our Easyjet plane on the morning of Friday, November 9th, and landed in a truly amazing place. Even just walking through the city to our hostel was awesome; everything was colorful, and beautiful, and WARM! (Lyon is unbearably freezing cold at the moment. Last Thursday I honestly think was the coldest weather I have ever experienced in my life. It snowed (nothing exciting, just flakes, no sticking) at night, but there was this face biting, ice making wind that was going strong throughout the day. Truly, so, SO cold). About 5 minutes after we got to our hostel (which was really cool: lots of art (graffiti and otherwise) all over the walls, everyone was our age and all smiles, all around just a really relaxed, fun place), Braden and Jake walked in the door! They’d already been at the hostel for two nights, and had nothing but great things to say about Barcelona.
After getting settled, we made our way to Las Ramblas, the main street in the downtown area. There, we met many strange street performers. I guess they’re there everyday. But they were the weirdest street performers I’d ever seen. Sure, there were the standard ones that stay perfectly still until you put money in their tin, upon which they do something. But there was also: a man dressed as an enormous fat woman. A woman covered in fruits and vegetables. A real creepy guy perched on a metallic chair who stealthily used one of his arms to move around a head (no body), who appeared to be his domestic pet, best friend, and lover all in one. And best (as in strangest) of all: an upside down table, with a hole cut out of it in the middle, with a pillow blocking what’s underneath, with fake legs attached to the top of the table, and when someone puts money in the jar, this guy, face painted in all white wearing a baseball cap, pops his head out of the hole, sticks his arms out of the sides of this upside down table, and sort of rocks back and forth in a little dance for about 10 seconds. That’s really the only way I know how to describe it. It was one of the weirdest things I’ve ever seen.
Eventually we went over to Mercat de la Boqueria, which is this huge market that sells all kinds of food, on Las Ramblas. Here, we met Karyn and Betsy. It was a really magical reunion. Molly and I bought a fresh squeezed strawberry banana juice at the Market, and we were off. For the rest of the day, we mainly just explored the city. For dinner, we went to a bar called L’Oveja Negra (or something), which means Black Sheep. It was a cool place, kind of like an old tavern. We were nearly the only people there, though, since it was something like 9:00, and shit doesn’t even get started until around 1:00am apparently. But it was still fun, we all just talked and reminisced and relaxed. We called it an early night because we were all so exhausted.
The next day was Saturday, and also my birthday. Also, Courtney had now joined us, making our party complete! The first thing we did was a 4-hour bike tour of the city. This was wonderful. We started out in the Old City, where we saw a lot of old, historical buildings and learned about a lot of Barcelona’s history, which was quite interesting. Next, we headed to a really cool park (that I unfortunately do not remember the name of), but it was really beautiful. It was filled with palm trees, and was equipped with a lagoon full of paddleboats, as well as a really beautiful statue that kind of reminded me of the statue in Place Terraux here in Lyon. Additionally, next to the park was Barcelona’s very own Arc de Triomphe. Seriously, it’s even called that (Spanish style). It looks a lot like the French one too. I think Chris, our tour guide, said something about how the Spaniards liked the French one so much that they built their own. I must admit, it made me sort of proud. Anyway, biking through the park was lovely. Then we headed to La Sagrada Familia, Gaudi’s lifelong project that he was working on up until his death. It is an ENORMOUS Catholic church that is unlike anything else in the entire world. Standing right there before it honestly blew me away. It’s the most detailed architecture I’ve ever seen! They’re working to finish what Gaudi started, and have been doing so since his death, so it’s constantly under construction, which is kind of too bad, but I barely even noticed it, the building is just that impressive. They expect it to be finished within 40 years. The reason it’s taking so long is now that they’ve finished everything from the plans for it Gaudi left, they’re trying to finished it based on exactly how they think Gaudi would have wanted it. It’s already so tall, but they’re going to build one extra tall tower in the middle of it, which will be 115 meters high! Huge. Anyway, it was really amazing.
Ah, also, while at the La Sagrada Familia, our American tour guide Chris got in a fight with a passing tour guide. Basically, Fat Tire bike tours are not sponsored by the city, or something, and this city sponsored tour guide passed us and said, in English, “DO NOT LISTEN TO THIS MAN, THIS MAN IS A LIAR!” when Chris was talking to us about La Sagrada Familia. As she was walking away, Chris yelled after her, “And that’s a BITCH who doesn’t know what the FUCK she’s talking about!” He also said something about how “real tour guides don’t need microphones” …I guess she was wearing one. It was a bit disconcerting, and while Chris tried to play it off afterward, he kept bringing it up at various points throughout the tour. I think he has some anger issues.
Next we headed to the beach where we stopped for some snacks and drinks, and admired the beauty, and eventually headed back into Old Town. While many Catalonians were less than happy about the gang of bikes weaving through the streets, and even though Chris was kind of a tool, it was a really fun time, and a really cool way to see a lot of the city. Later on, back at the hostel, Braden and Jake gave me two things: first, a glass full of pomegranate absinthe. Second, my birthday present: my very own grill. It is incredible. I got a whole top diamond and sapphire. I wore it for the rest of the day and night. My mouf was lookin sumthin like a disco bawl. (Mom, since you already read Courtney’s post and have since asked me what a grill is, it’s an apparatus that you insert into your mouth that goes over your teeth to pimp them out, which means make them look cool. They generally involve jewels, like diamonds). After continuing our absinthe party at the fly honey hostel, and eating some very delicious soup, we bought a lot of cheap wine and headed to Park Guel. This is the huge Gaudi park in Barcelona (back in the day, Gaudi built two houses in this area, each for a wealthy Catalonian family. The families didn’t like them, so Gaudi turned the area into a park and gave it to the city). When we went there Saturday night it was dark, so we didn’t do much exploring around the park. But we did find a little cove with a view of the entire city, and it was too beautiful. Sitting there, eating cheese and drinking wine and laughing, I looked around at everyone there and felt so incredibly lucky. Here I was, in (maybe) the most amazing city I’d ever been to, with some of the people that matter to me most in this world, and there was just so much love, and I was just so happy. Maybe I didn’t get to have a big 21st birthday in America, and there are some other people I would have loved to spend it with, but, in the end, I really couldn’t have asked for anything better.
We drank all the wine. We had some ridiculous photo shoots. We took in the breathtaking view. Happy Birthday was sung. Then Betsy had us all do something really cool: a kind of cinnamon roll type hug. Everyone holds hands in a circle, and since it was my birthday, I was in the middle. I stay stationary, and then everyone else runs in a circle around me until we’re all wrapped up super tight. It was great. We did a bunch of them.
Finally, after spending a significant amount of time in this amazing park, we decided to hit up tha club. I really wanted to go to this place called Razzmatazz (a club with five floors, with a different type of music happening on each), but it was kind of far out and, well, I don’t really know why we didn’t go there in the end, but we went to somewhere called Catwalk. There were two floors at this one: the bottom was electro (but, sadly, shitty electro), and the top was hip hop and rap. I was a big hit with my grill. We broke it down upstairs for most of the night, got hit on by a lot of sleazy guys, and got saved from all of them by Jake. It was all really fun though.
Jake and Braden had to leave really early Sunday morning, so I said goodbye to them when we got back to the hostel at 5:30am. Karyn and Betsy had to leave in the late morning, so we got some verrrry tasty ice cream (France is still in the lead for ice cream though will probably take second to Italy when I go there at some point), and said goodbye. And then there were three. Molly, Ruby and I decided to go back to Park Guel so that we could actually see it during the day. We ended up spending the entire day there. I think that park was my favorite thing about Barcelona. I can’t really describe everything about it that made it so cool, but it’s amazing. The palm trees and these brown, manmade clay columns with little nooks in them really reminded us of Donkey Kong. Then there was the big veranda, with a long mosaic framed bench that wrapped around it all, that overlooks the entire city. Best view of the city there is, I imagine. If any of you have seen L’Auberge Espangol, this is where that scene of Xavier and Anne Sophie (when they’re looking out at the city, and give way to their sexual tension) is filmed. We spent a lot of time in this area, because there was a man making amazing giant bubbles, and a lot of hilarious Spanish children reacting to it, and a lot of great people watching opportunities in general. Then we went and checked out those two Gaudi houses. I realize that his work was so different and original and ahead of his time that people didn’t like it, but those families had to have been crazy not to want to live in these things. They’re so cool! They look like melted gingerbread houses, and the mosaics are so neat. The park is also home to that super famous Gaudi lizard (I believe he’s an iguana). I’ve never seen so many tourists trying to take pictures with something. Ruby got a lot of pictures of various people with the lizard in an attempt to get one of me with it.
As the sun was setting, we continued to explore the park. Finally, it was dark, and after spending a good 6 hours in Park Guel, we decided to leave. We were making our way to the exit gate, and just as we were approaching it, we heard a noise that went something like this “Fss fssshh fssshhh.” Kind of a whispering, whistling noise. Then all of a sudden I hear Ruby and Molly go “Oh my God, Oh my GOD…” and see them start running toward the gate. I’m confused and say, “What, what!?!?” and one of them says, “THERE’S A NAKED MAN RIGHT THERE.” I look up, into the bushes about 5 feet above us, and sure enough, there is a stark naked man looking down at us, wiggling his dick and smiling. We got the FUCK out of the park. None of us could believe it! We were flashed! You can’t really call it flashing though, since there were no clothes to begin with. We looked for someone to report this man to, but couldn’t find anyone, and decided to just leave since we were all pretty freaked out by it. It was pretty fucked up, but also a pretty hilarious way for our day at Park Guel to end.
Monday morning we tried to go to the Picasso museum but it was closed. We peeked in the windows though, at least. Since we couldn’t go to the museum, we walked down some back streets near our hostel and saw a lot of cool street art. We also popped into a really beautiful church. Finally, we came back to Lyon. None of us wanted to leave. We all kind of wished we were studying abroad in Barcelona instead, I think. But, Lyon has its pros. And there’s no way I’m going to attempt to learn Catalan. And the weekend wouldn’t have been so special if we were living there the whole year. And it was a very special weekend indeed.
The end.
Sunday, November 18, 2007
Because we (the members of Justice) are your (my) friends, you’ll never be alone again (I got the best birthday present of all time)
DISCLAIMER: Still don’t have Internet at home, but will in just one week! So expect more frequent posting soon. Also, this post was actually written on November 13th.
I have so, so much to write about.
From Thursday, November 8th to Monday, November 12th, 2007, my life was a crazy whirlwind, but they were some of the best days of my entire life. I’ll need to break what I’m going to say into two blog posts, because I fear one would be too overwhelmingly lengthy. So… I’ll start… with Justice.
Thursday night, Molly, Ruby and I went to see Scenario Rock, Busy P and Justice live in Lyon. The concert was at Transbordeur, the same place were the last Erasmus party was. Knowing that it was a sold out show, and knowing that Transbordeur is enormous, we expected there to be an insane amount of people: there was. We were swallowed up by the crowd as soon as we walked in. But that didn’t stop us from making our way to the bar.
After a few vodka & redbulls, we heard Scenario Rock start up. They weren’t bad, but not great. In any case, we decided to make our way to the front of the stage anyway so as to be as close as humanly possible to Justice. Because I am a bawss and cared a lot about this, we got up to the very, very front of the huge crowd, which stopped at multiple metal gates. We stood on the bottom railings of the gates and proceeded to get absolutely rammed in the ass for the next two(ish) hours (I’m talking multiple bruises all over our legs and arms) but it was very, very worth it as soon as Justice started up. Not only did they do most of Cross, and Waters of Nazarath, but they also did some of their remixes that I love so much, such as NY Excuse by Soulwax, Skitzo Dancer (Scenario Rock), of course We Are Your Friends, etc.
So after the main show, and after everyone thought it was over, we all head out back into the main area where the bar is and such, and after about 20 minutes, we heard more fat beats. Basically there was an aftershow, which I think was Busy P’s main set, but Justice was very much a part of it also, on a smaller stage, with a more intimate crowd. This was better, for obvious reasons. I was dancing like crazy, obviously, and at one point I look up and see a few people dancing on stage: one of them was Ruby. Naturally, I make my way to the stage and she pulled me up there with her. While this wasn’t the first time I’d danced on stage with members of Ed Rec, it was still a really cool experience, looking out on the crowd, and being so close to the DJs. And then, it happened…
The security guards start kicking the commoners off the stage. I stealthily hide behind some people and a barricade. I somehow make my way behind the turntables. The security guards come over to the people surrounding me (photographers and Justice/Busy P’s associate DJs. They demand to see wristbands. Everyone shows them. I don’t. IT GOES UNNOTICED. Thus: for the next two and a half hours, I danced with, talked with, and drank with Xavier de Rosnay and Gaspard Augé (Justice), Pedro Winter (Busy P), and the 10 or so others who were cool enough to kick it with them. I sat down next to Xavier under the turntables (this is what he was doing for the majority of this set) and tapped him on his leather jacket and told him that I think he’s really talented and I appreciate his music. He thanked me. I told him that I saw an Ed Banger show in San Francisco in March and that it really impressed me. He said, “At the Mezanine?” and I said “Yes!” and in my head I was saying, “WOW. WOW WOW,” and he said “That show was really fun.” Then he offered me what I thought was a water bottle and I took a big gulp of it and, well, it wasn’t water. Then that was that and he went back to perusing through some CDs, but I still can’t really believe that I had a legitimate conversation with Xavier from Justice. And the best part was that it was all in French! I went back to dancing and I told the girl photographer that was kicking it there that my birthday was in two days and this was the coolest birthday present I could ever ask for. She said, “Perfect!” Then I started dancing around some of the other DJs and trying to get a better look at their equipment so I could tell Thom and Mikhail about it (I’m sorry to say that I remember nothing about the equipment) and I was, you know, breaking it down and one of the DJs was feeling my style and started dancing too and smiling and stuff and then we had a big conversation, throughout which I was given a lot more alcohol as well as some pats on the back, and found out that his name is Niko, he lives in Toulouse, he DJs with Justice and Busy P regularly, and he’s very happy that I got to come hang out with them. (I was too!) Then he said, “Do you want to see how it’s done?” (he kept switching back and forth with this other DJ, who was wearing a really cool shirt, just so it’s clear that we weren’t talking while he was mixing), and he brought me up to the turntables/synths/machines and let me watch closely. Then, somehow, magically, Busy P and I made eye contact. I tried to think of something cool to do. I came up with motioning at my wrist to show that I didn’t have a wristband and then doing the universal sign for “don’t tell anyone!” aka “shh!” …I’m not that cool under pressure. And I was drunk. But, he faked like he was going to alert security about it and then broke out of that and smiled at me and did the universal sign for “don’t worry about it!” aka swatting the air with your hand and tilting your head back while half smiling.
I was on Cloud 9. I truly felt like the coolest person in the entire world. It really made me miss Thom, and wish he could experience all that. (Personally, I think he will someday anyway, what with his getting asses on tha dance floor skillz). Eventually, after much more dancing, and much more talking with Niko, Ruby came up behind the stage. I decided to try and get her back there with me. That’s when it all went awry. As soon as I left where I was, just a little bit, to try and get her on there, the security guard stopped me, saw that I didn’t have a wristband, and told me to get off the stage. So we start going away… but then, I kind of stealthily slipped back there again. Unfortunately Ruby didn’t make it. But I was back. And then, this girl pulled me to right where Busy P was mixing and started dancing with me and stuff and I asked her if she was with any of these guys and she said yes and I asked her who and she pointed right at Busy P. So, I was dancing with Busy P’s girlfriend for a while, which enabled me to talk to Busy P himself a bit when he wasn’t pumping up the jams. Then, it turns out it was like 4:30 in the morning, and Ruby came back to the stage and reminded me that we had to be at the airport about 6 hours later. So, we tried to give it one more shot getting her back there, Busy P himself actually came out and talked to both of us about how he’d try to talk to someone, but I didn’t really expect him to, and I figured I’d had an amazing enough night. I said goodbye to all my new friends and thanked them so much for being so awesome, etc, and Niko gave me some cheek kisses and asked for my number. And then I got his. So who knows, maybe that won’t be the last time I get to hang out with those guys. But if it was… I’m a whole lot more than okay with it.
Me! and Niko is on the left.
Busy P and his girlfriend in the forground, Xavier in the back.
I have so, so much to write about.
From Thursday, November 8th to Monday, November 12th, 2007, my life was a crazy whirlwind, but they were some of the best days of my entire life. I’ll need to break what I’m going to say into two blog posts, because I fear one would be too overwhelmingly lengthy. So… I’ll start… with Justice.
Thursday night, Molly, Ruby and I went to see Scenario Rock, Busy P and Justice live in Lyon. The concert was at Transbordeur, the same place were the last Erasmus party was. Knowing that it was a sold out show, and knowing that Transbordeur is enormous, we expected there to be an insane amount of people: there was. We were swallowed up by the crowd as soon as we walked in. But that didn’t stop us from making our way to the bar.
After a few vodka & redbulls, we heard Scenario Rock start up. They weren’t bad, but not great. In any case, we decided to make our way to the front of the stage anyway so as to be as close as humanly possible to Justice. Because I am a bawss and cared a lot about this, we got up to the very, very front of the huge crowd, which stopped at multiple metal gates. We stood on the bottom railings of the gates and proceeded to get absolutely rammed in the ass for the next two(ish) hours (I’m talking multiple bruises all over our legs and arms) but it was very, very worth it as soon as Justice started up. Not only did they do most of Cross, and Waters of Nazarath, but they also did some of their remixes that I love so much, such as NY Excuse by Soulwax, Skitzo Dancer (Scenario Rock), of course We Are Your Friends, etc.
So after the main show, and after everyone thought it was over, we all head out back into the main area where the bar is and such, and after about 20 minutes, we heard more fat beats. Basically there was an aftershow, which I think was Busy P’s main set, but Justice was very much a part of it also, on a smaller stage, with a more intimate crowd. This was better, for obvious reasons. I was dancing like crazy, obviously, and at one point I look up and see a few people dancing on stage: one of them was Ruby. Naturally, I make my way to the stage and she pulled me up there with her. While this wasn’t the first time I’d danced on stage with members of Ed Rec, it was still a really cool experience, looking out on the crowd, and being so close to the DJs. And then, it happened…
The security guards start kicking the commoners off the stage. I stealthily hide behind some people and a barricade. I somehow make my way behind the turntables. The security guards come over to the people surrounding me (photographers and Justice/Busy P’s associate DJs. They demand to see wristbands. Everyone shows them. I don’t. IT GOES UNNOTICED. Thus: for the next two and a half hours, I danced with, talked with, and drank with Xavier de Rosnay and Gaspard Augé (Justice), Pedro Winter (Busy P), and the 10 or so others who were cool enough to kick it with them. I sat down next to Xavier under the turntables (this is what he was doing for the majority of this set) and tapped him on his leather jacket and told him that I think he’s really talented and I appreciate his music. He thanked me. I told him that I saw an Ed Banger show in San Francisco in March and that it really impressed me. He said, “At the Mezanine?” and I said “Yes!” and in my head I was saying, “WOW. WOW WOW,” and he said “That show was really fun.” Then he offered me what I thought was a water bottle and I took a big gulp of it and, well, it wasn’t water. Then that was that and he went back to perusing through some CDs, but I still can’t really believe that I had a legitimate conversation with Xavier from Justice. And the best part was that it was all in French! I went back to dancing and I told the girl photographer that was kicking it there that my birthday was in two days and this was the coolest birthday present I could ever ask for. She said, “Perfect!” Then I started dancing around some of the other DJs and trying to get a better look at their equipment so I could tell Thom and Mikhail about it (I’m sorry to say that I remember nothing about the equipment) and I was, you know, breaking it down and one of the DJs was feeling my style and started dancing too and smiling and stuff and then we had a big conversation, throughout which I was given a lot more alcohol as well as some pats on the back, and found out that his name is Niko, he lives in Toulouse, he DJs with Justice and Busy P regularly, and he’s very happy that I got to come hang out with them. (I was too!) Then he said, “Do you want to see how it’s done?” (he kept switching back and forth with this other DJ, who was wearing a really cool shirt, just so it’s clear that we weren’t talking while he was mixing), and he brought me up to the turntables/synths/machines and let me watch closely. Then, somehow, magically, Busy P and I made eye contact. I tried to think of something cool to do. I came up with motioning at my wrist to show that I didn’t have a wristband and then doing the universal sign for “don’t tell anyone!” aka “shh!” …I’m not that cool under pressure. And I was drunk. But, he faked like he was going to alert security about it and then broke out of that and smiled at me and did the universal sign for “don’t worry about it!” aka swatting the air with your hand and tilting your head back while half smiling.
I was on Cloud 9. I truly felt like the coolest person in the entire world. It really made me miss Thom, and wish he could experience all that. (Personally, I think he will someday anyway, what with his getting asses on tha dance floor skillz). Eventually, after much more dancing, and much more talking with Niko, Ruby came up behind the stage. I decided to try and get her back there with me. That’s when it all went awry. As soon as I left where I was, just a little bit, to try and get her on there, the security guard stopped me, saw that I didn’t have a wristband, and told me to get off the stage. So we start going away… but then, I kind of stealthily slipped back there again. Unfortunately Ruby didn’t make it. But I was back. And then, this girl pulled me to right where Busy P was mixing and started dancing with me and stuff and I asked her if she was with any of these guys and she said yes and I asked her who and she pointed right at Busy P. So, I was dancing with Busy P’s girlfriend for a while, which enabled me to talk to Busy P himself a bit when he wasn’t pumping up the jams. Then, it turns out it was like 4:30 in the morning, and Ruby came back to the stage and reminded me that we had to be at the airport about 6 hours later. So, we tried to give it one more shot getting her back there, Busy P himself actually came out and talked to both of us about how he’d try to talk to someone, but I didn’t really expect him to, and I figured I’d had an amazing enough night. I said goodbye to all my new friends and thanked them so much for being so awesome, etc, and Niko gave me some cheek kisses and asked for my number. And then I got his. So who knows, maybe that won’t be the last time I get to hang out with those guys. But if it was… I’m a whole lot more than okay with it.
Me! and Niko is on the left.
Busy P and his girlfriend in the forground, Xavier in the back.
Monday, November 5, 2007
La Croix Rousse and Crepes
So I’m sitting alone in my new apartment, and I’m still homesick, and I’m scared (because anyone who knows me knows I’m a scardeycat, and it’s night time in France, and there’s a baby crying, and I’m by myself), and I have no internet. But other than that, things are pretty wonderful, so I decided to write a Microsoft Word blog post about it that I’ll hopefully be able to actually post sometime soon.
A week ago, I moved into the apartment that I’ll be living in for the rest of the year. Though I’ve already briefly mentioned this, I feel the need to say again that it’s in the Croix Rousse area of Lyon. This part of town is really awesome; it’s on a hill, so from almost anywhere here (including my bedroom window!) you have an incredible view of the city. The area itself has a lot of cool architecture and graffiti, as well as lovely people. And everyday, (though Saturdays and Sundays are the biggest) there’s a huge street market on the main boulevard (a block away from my apartment!) with vendors selling fresh fruits, veggies, meat, cheese, bread, and more. I have never had the patience to cook, I actually kind of hate cooking, but these street markets inspire me to maaaybe give cooking another shot. Additionally, there’s been a carnival here, spread out along the main boulevard and surrounding streets, that will continue until November 11th. It’s pretty crazy, I walk out of my apartment at night and hear screams from kids on the rides and see flashing colorful lights and best of all, smell crepes being cooked: there are about a million different creperies/churro-eries/waffleries, and I’ve already determined which one sells the best nutella crepes, and yes, I eat at least one every day. In short, I love Croix Rousse.
The apartment itself is adorable. It’s cozy, but doesn’t feel too small. I honestly do have a million dollar (euro?) view from my bedroom window, as well as the living room. We don’t have a dishwasher, but I actually kind of like washing dishes (and it’s something I can contribute to meals, since I hate cooking). We have a TV that has thus far thoroughly entertained me with The Adams Family (the movie), MTV’s Exposed, and NFL highlights, all in French. The only bad (and not even bad, frustrating is a better word) thing about it is that there’s no Internet, but this has been actually kind of refreshing in a way. It’s becoming more of an issue lately though, because as nice as it is to read books and do crosswords and watch French Exposed in my downtime here, I do need that damn Internet for school. And keeping in touch.
This past week (I’m writing this on Sunday, November 4th, for the record) was our Tous Saints (All Saints) vacation, and Andrew came to visit! I don’t think I’m even going to try to recount all our adventures, but they involved gay clubs, H&M, an Australian bar, pretty unexciting Halloween costumes because we have no money (a Halloween that didn’t come close to comparing to America’s, sadly), promenading all around the city (which was cool because I actually saw new beauty of Lyon: suddenly the things I see everyday were beautiful and impressive, and even though I knew they were in the back of my mind, I never really actively saw them that way because I’m living here rather than visiting. So being with Andrew, a visitor, gave me a new perspective), crossword puzzles, a lot of crepes and churros, giraffes, zebras, an elephant, a whole lot of monkeys, and a chocolate tasting exhibition. Needless to say, it was a great week, and it was especially great just being able to see Andrew.
Speaking of seeing friends, I’m going for Barcelona this coming weekend for my birthday! It’s hard to believe I’m already turning 21, or really just having a birthday in general so soon, because it honestly does not feel like we were breaking it down classy style at the manor for my 20th birthday an entire YEAR ago. I swear, time goes by too fast. It will also be weird to have the biggest American birthday in Europe, but I am really excited to go to Barcelona. I’ve heard nothing but amazing things about this city. And best of all I get to see so many of my friends!
Lately, and especially after writing this post, I’ve been feeling incredibly lucky. That, mixed with my homesickness, is a really strange feeling. It’s like I almost don’t deserve to be homesick, even though the two don’t really have anything to do with each other, but it makes the homesickness feel kind of selfish.
In any case, I really miss all of you. I wish all of you could come celebrate my birthday with me in Barcelona. That would be the best gift of all.
Well, I’ll tell you all about it next time!
Love, Meg
A week ago, I moved into the apartment that I’ll be living in for the rest of the year. Though I’ve already briefly mentioned this, I feel the need to say again that it’s in the Croix Rousse area of Lyon. This part of town is really awesome; it’s on a hill, so from almost anywhere here (including my bedroom window!) you have an incredible view of the city. The area itself has a lot of cool architecture and graffiti, as well as lovely people. And everyday, (though Saturdays and Sundays are the biggest) there’s a huge street market on the main boulevard (a block away from my apartment!) with vendors selling fresh fruits, veggies, meat, cheese, bread, and more. I have never had the patience to cook, I actually kind of hate cooking, but these street markets inspire me to maaaybe give cooking another shot. Additionally, there’s been a carnival here, spread out along the main boulevard and surrounding streets, that will continue until November 11th. It’s pretty crazy, I walk out of my apartment at night and hear screams from kids on the rides and see flashing colorful lights and best of all, smell crepes being cooked: there are about a million different creperies/churro-eries/waffleries, and I’ve already determined which one sells the best nutella crepes, and yes, I eat at least one every day. In short, I love Croix Rousse.
The apartment itself is adorable. It’s cozy, but doesn’t feel too small. I honestly do have a million dollar (euro?) view from my bedroom window, as well as the living room. We don’t have a dishwasher, but I actually kind of like washing dishes (and it’s something I can contribute to meals, since I hate cooking). We have a TV that has thus far thoroughly entertained me with The Adams Family (the movie), MTV’s Exposed, and NFL highlights, all in French. The only bad (and not even bad, frustrating is a better word) thing about it is that there’s no Internet, but this has been actually kind of refreshing in a way. It’s becoming more of an issue lately though, because as nice as it is to read books and do crosswords and watch French Exposed in my downtime here, I do need that damn Internet for school. And keeping in touch.
This past week (I’m writing this on Sunday, November 4th, for the record) was our Tous Saints (All Saints) vacation, and Andrew came to visit! I don’t think I’m even going to try to recount all our adventures, but they involved gay clubs, H&M, an Australian bar, pretty unexciting Halloween costumes because we have no money (a Halloween that didn’t come close to comparing to America’s, sadly), promenading all around the city (which was cool because I actually saw new beauty of Lyon: suddenly the things I see everyday were beautiful and impressive, and even though I knew they were in the back of my mind, I never really actively saw them that way because I’m living here rather than visiting. So being with Andrew, a visitor, gave me a new perspective), crossword puzzles, a lot of crepes and churros, giraffes, zebras, an elephant, a whole lot of monkeys, and a chocolate tasting exhibition. Needless to say, it was a great week, and it was especially great just being able to see Andrew.
Speaking of seeing friends, I’m going for Barcelona this coming weekend for my birthday! It’s hard to believe I’m already turning 21, or really just having a birthday in general so soon, because it honestly does not feel like we were breaking it down classy style at the manor for my 20th birthday an entire YEAR ago. I swear, time goes by too fast. It will also be weird to have the biggest American birthday in Europe, but I am really excited to go to Barcelona. I’ve heard nothing but amazing things about this city. And best of all I get to see so many of my friends!
Lately, and especially after writing this post, I’ve been feeling incredibly lucky. That, mixed with my homesickness, is a really strange feeling. It’s like I almost don’t deserve to be homesick, even though the two don’t really have anything to do with each other, but it makes the homesickness feel kind of selfish.
In any case, I really miss all of you. I wish all of you could come celebrate my birthday with me in Barcelona. That would be the best gift of all.
Well, I’ll tell you all about it next time!
Love, Meg
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