The Weekly Baguette

We'll Always Have Paris

2010-06-28T17:22:00.000-07:00

Although my last few days in Angers were bittersweet, my last day in France was perhaps one of the best ever. June 21—Summer Solstice—the longest day of the year and the Fête de Musique. I woke up early so I could take the train to Chambourcy, a charming village just outside of Paris, where I would stay with my very good friends from my hometown. (Hayley and Chris were on their own European tour.) It was surreal leaving Angers and even more surreal meeting up with Hayley and Chris in Paris. We spent the entire day in Paris sampling its delights and getting our last looks at the ancient city.

While shopping on the Champs Elysées the street suddenly exploded with the noise of cars honking and it seemed like everyone was suddenly wearing a Portuguese flag. Traffic was completely stopped as people started dancing and marching in the street. This was all because Potugual had just beaten someone 7-0 and clinched a spot in the World Cup playoffs. It was unlike anything I’d seen before.
Then we walked to the Champs de Mars for a view of the Eiffel Tower. Afterwards we bought our Festival of Musique metro tickets which gave us free reign of the city at the impossibly awesome price of 3 euros. We could use any type of public transportation until seven the next morning. What a bargain.

Since my one regret from earlier visits was not seeing the sights of Montmartre (the old arts district where famous artists used to live) we went straight to the 18th arrondisement. After locating the Moulin Rouge we bought pizzas and galettes and sat on the steps overlooking all of Paris. And then, the Sacre Coeur. If Notre Dame was just the tiniest bit disappointing, the Sacre Coeur more than made up for it. Firstly, the view is incredible. Secondly, the outside is spectacular and thirdly, the inside, with its gold and blue mosaic, is jaw dropping.
We wandered through several other arrondisements listening to the variety of street musicians who were out for the festival. Then we marched to the Pont de Neuf and watched the sun set on the Seine. Once night fell we made stops at the Louvre (for a last frolick through the fountain), the Garnier Opera house and the Eiffel Tower. Thanks to our magical passes we were able to accomplish this easily.

We made it home around 4 in the morning, got in a quick cat nap and then headed for the airport. The last thing I did was eat a croissant in Charles de Gaulle aéroport before boarding the plane. Au revoir France! Tu me manques déjà!

The first thing I did Stateside was get a cannoli in the North End of Boston and the second was take another 6 hour flight back to California and my family. It was so good to see everyone at home and eat some of the foods I’d been missing out on, but re-entry wasn’t easy. The sense of loss was almost overwhelming. Dairy products just don’t taste the same here and I miss fresh bread and walking everywhere and seeing things that are hundreds of years old. All I want to do is share my experiences from abroad and it’s hard to realize that not everyone will understand just what the experience meant to me (or want to listen to me rambling on about “This one time in France…”) Anyone who has studied abroad can relate (not perfectly, of course) because everything reminds you of something that happened in France or Spain or Italy or Norway or wherever you were.

And here are my answers to everyone’s favorite questions: 1) No, I’m not fluent, but I can hold a conversation and read French books now.
2) If there’s one thing I miss most about France, it’s not hearing French spoken at all hours of the day.
3) I absolutely intend to go back as soon as I can.

This is the last post, I hope you’ve enjoyed reading this as much as I’ve enjoyed sharing my experiences with you. Don’t hesitate to contact me with any questions or comments.

Toujours (always),
Heidi
wroblickyh@merrimack.edu

Time to Say Goodbye

2010-06-20T17:14:00.000-07:00

I apologize for posting so late, but the last month or so was incredible hectic, but I do want to give this blog some closure. June started off with finals and a visit to the Cointreau factory and museum (Cointreau is an expensive world renowned orange liqueur made specially in Angers) before all the goodbyes to my friends began. Some of my friends left the day after finals, but I was sticking around for another two weeks so I was at the train station everyday (sometimes multiple times in one day) saying goodbye to everyone. It involved lots of hugs and tears and many promises to come back or visit in the States or just keep in touch. Saying goodbye is never fun, especially if you’re not sure if you’ll ever see someone again, but it’s so much better than not having met them in the first place. As one of my friends said “Life is all about goodbyes. At some point in your life you will have to say goodbye to everyone you’ve ever met. But that shouldn’t stop you from going out and meeting people.” That was the sad part. The fun part was that everyday was a grand adventure and every night my friends and I jumped into a different French fountain.

Since I was staying for a couple more weeks I was around for the 2010 World Cup game of England vs USA. England had already scored a goal by the time I got to the bar to watch with my British friends. It was great fun…or great banter as they would say. The Brits were decked out in red and white clothing and paint and sported the flag of St. George as a type of cape and singing rugby turned soccer (or should I say football) songs. I wore my red, white and blue along with my Boston Red Sox hat…very American I thought. If you didn’t see the game it was really exciting because England was supposed to win it, but USA stuck it out for a 1-1 tie and I took a lot of heat for it.

I spent my last days in Angers visiting the different parks, eating my last baguettes and macarons, sketching the castle, and learning how to salsa and play French card games. I’m so glad I stayed the extra bit because it gave me a chance to let go. It was painful knowing I had to leave soon, but I was also excited to be going home since I hadn’t seen my family in five months. I will never forget the friends I made in Angers nor the city itself. Angers has become yet another home to me and I hope to return someday soon. If you are thinking of studying abroad, do it. You learn so much about so many different things in all aspects of life. And if you’re going to go, I highly recommend going to a country where you will be forced to speak another language. It’s uncomfortable at first, but people are more accepting of your mistakes and faux pas than you think.

Encore une fois (once more),

Heidi

An American in Paris: Day 4-7

2010-05-31T15:40:00.000-07:00

Day 4 was the start of the conference so I checked to make sure Kathy (Director of Merrimack’s Writing Center) had arrived before going to the Champs de Mars for my first actual viewing of the Tour Eiffel. It is incredible and gargantuan in real life. Then Kathy and I went to the opening of the Conference, which was held at the American Church, and a champagne and hors d’oeuvres reception. Afterwards I met Sasha and Phoebe for dinner with Sasha’s aunt. She was the cutest little woman and made sure we had traditional French eatings like an aperitif of kir (chardonnay with créme de cassis) and escargot. I’d never had escargot before, but I’d been dying to try it. It was served hot with pesto and butter and it was chewy, but delicious.

Day 5 was taken up almost entirely by the conference. But it was great! I learned so much about writing center pedagogy and writing in different countries like Germany, Turkey, Poland, England and Denmark. After the conference the entire group went for ride on a bâteaux mouche. The boat took us along the quai and we got to see unique views of the Eiffel Tower, National Assembly, Invalides, Tulieries, Louvre, Ile de la Cité and Notre Dame. Kathy and I also decided to visit the Eiffel Tower at night. I love when it sparkles! It is just plain beautiful.

Day 6 I finally got to go to the Musée d’Orsay and it was certainly worth the wait. There was a special exhibit called Crime et Châtiment (Crime and Punishment) and it was really, really cool, if rather morbid. It featured the dark side of artwork with scenes of death, torture, dissections, prisons, the French revolution, femmes fatales, judgment scenes, sensational newspaper story covers, a guillotine, and even the ballet dancers of Degas who represented a form of punishment to the body. The most impressionant was this creepy wooden prison door from Bois, France from 1900 with carvings of numbers, dates and the words “adiu, adieu, adieu” on the prisoners’ side of the door. I’m glad I saw the exhibit first because everything else after that was happy. I saw works by Monet, Van Gogh, Renoir, Seurat, Degas, Lautrec, Delacroix, Gaugin, Rodin, etc.

I returned to the conference and afterwards there was a bus tour of the city led by two American University of Paris students who were very well informed about the history and sights of Paris. We learned that on the 7th floor of Louis Vuitton is a free art gallery and that the Champs Elysées is now the 3rd most expensive street in the world.

Day 7 was presentation day and it went spectacularly well. Everyone was intrigued by our topic and we had a great discussion at the end. A wine and cheese reception finished off the conference and then it was time for me to catch the train back to Angers. And whadda ya know, there was an accident on my section of the metro so I had to run to the next stop which, luckily, had the transfer I needed to get to the train station. Still it was touch and go for a bit there. In the end I made it safely back to Angers and had to mentally prepare myself for taking my socio-cultural final the next morning.

Bonne chance à moi!

Heidi

From Paris, With Love: Day 1-3

2010-05-30T09:29:00.000-07:00

So I was one week in Paris and oh man what a week it was. I was lucky enough to stay in a real Parisian apartment on the market street Rue Cler in the 7th arrondisement (there are 20 all total) with Sasha, my friend from high school and her friend, Phoebe. They had just finished their semester in Rome and were excited about the change of scenery. Ok so here’s a sketch of what happened.

Day 1 we went to the Luxembourg gardens and palace (saw some old men playing chess and kids playing tennis), the Montparnasse cemetery, and the extremely trendy Jewish/Gay quarter with its hidden art galleries and scenic canal.

Day 2 was brunch at the Mama Shelter, a very chic buffet restaurant that you have to reserve at least one week in advance. We walked off the piles of food by wandering the vastness that is Père Lachaise cemetery. There are tons of famous people buried in Père Lachaise (Apollinaire, Edith Piaf, Proust, Balzac, Jim Morrison, etc.) but it was so big we only found Proust and Morrison.
Then we went to the Champs-Elysées because we were told that the entire street would be blocked off for a nature display. Something like 2 million people were expected to attend and after arriving at the famous street I could believe it. There were people everywhere! It was insanity. I continued on to the Arc de Triomph (so much cooler and bigger in real life) which is located at the craziest roundabout I’ve ever seen. It’s called the Etoile (star) and has 12 streets spewing off of it.

Afterwards I met another high school friend, Laura and we grabbed some Domino’s pizza for a late night picnic in the Tulieries garden at the feet of the Louvre. The best part of this night was watching the Eiffel Tower sparkle. Every night after dark on the hour for five minutes the Eiffel Tower goes all sparkly before returning to its regular old lit up self. Funny story—the Eiffel Tower was supposed to be a temporary building for the 1889 World Expo and all the Parisian’s thought it was an eye sore, but when I asked the French girls in the Foyer what their favorite landmark in Paris was all of them said they liked ”La Tour Eiffel” best. Go figure.

Day 3 was the Louvre. People had warned me about its size and anyone who had lived long in Paris said it was overrated and too touristy. But there’s a reason it’s touristy. It houses the world’s finest art collection and it was fabulous. And even better I got in for free with my student card! The Louvre also happens to have one of my favorite pieces in its collection and I was determined to see it. I needn’t have worried about seeing it because it was the first thing I saw: Nike of Samothrace, or Winged Victory at the top of the grand staircase and she was beautiful. And it wouldn’t be a trip to the Louvre without seeing DaVinci’s Mona Lisa, but she’s so small and far away in her protective glass that she’s much harder to appreciate. Much more amusing is all the tourists jockeying for a better viewing position. Far more enjoyable was seeing all the neoclassical paintings from David and Delacroix.

The museum was truly incredible, but I have to say the highlight of the entire day was dipping my feet into the Louvre fountains. There were tons of people outside the pyramid just sitting by the fountains; one girl was walking around in the fountain and most people, like me, were soaking their aching feet.

Afterwards I walked across the Pont Neuf (New Bridge), ironically, the oldest bridge in Paris, to the Île de la Cité where the Notre Dame is located. Notre Dame was very surprisingly the only letdown of the trip. Don’t get me wrong, you should totally see it because it is still awesome. It just didn’t meet my expectations. (I blame this on my preference for all things Angevine.) From there I trekked to the Hôtel de Ville, Pompidou center (crazy modern museum that looks like it’s made of colorful pipes) and Rue Rivoli where the huge department stores are located and then back to the Louvre for more feet dipping.

Side note: I was explaining to my youngest sister Emma how cool the Louvre was when she interrupted me and said, “Wait, isn’t the Louvre a bathroom?” She honestly had no idea and I couldn’t have been more dumbfounded. Seriously? You thought the Louvre was a bathroom? I get that it sounds like the Loo, but really?? It’s only like THE most famous museum in the world. It was pretty funny.

To be continued…

Monsieur, can we take a picture of your mustache?

2010-05-21T10:42:00.000-07:00

Things are winding down over here so I haven’t had a whole lot of time to write. But here’s a quick recap of the weekend. My friends and I had not one, but TWO picnics. The first one took place under the shade of the castle and it was so successful we planned another for the next day under the gazebo in the Jardin du Mail. We had so much food that I wasn’t even hungry for dinner. There were baguettes, chocolate croissants, wine, cidre, chocolate, cookies, sausage, ginger butter (like peanut butter, but it tastes like ginger snaps), and of course a variety of cheeses: brie, coulommiers, camembert, rocquefort, etc. And since we are very resourceful, poor college students we used the round cheese container as a Frisbee (I wouldn’t recommend it for distances greater than twenty feet).

After the second picnic we had an Angers Photo Scavenger Hunt, created by your truly. We split into two randomly selected teams and set off to take pictures with all 32 objects/places. Some of the things on the list included finding someone wearing a beret, someone with a mustache, French graffiti, French car, French phone booth, a purple flower, a snail, a happy face traffic light, French people holding up a peace sign, something with the name Angers, bridge across the river, our school, a street sign with the word “ecrivain” (writer), a fountain, etc. We met up at the chateau at the very end and everyone agreed it was one of their favorite things (the only thing our team couldn’t find was the happy face stoplight).

Today I leave for Paris! I’ll be gone for an entire week because I have yet to visit the museums and actually see the Champs de Mars and the Eiffel Tower. I’ll also be representing Merrimack at the European Writing Centers Association Conference with Professor Kathy Shine Cain, the director of Merrimack’s writing center. Our topic is “Positionality and the 21st Century Writing Center: Interdisciplinary, Transdisciplinary, and Cultural Border Crossing.” In case that sound totally foreign to you, essentially I’m going to be talking about the different relationships in the writing center and about my experiences as a second language student.

Wish me bonne chance!

Heidi

Madeleines!

2010-05-12T12:15:00.000-07:00

“In an old house in Paris that was covered in vines lived 12 little girls in two straight lines…”
If you’ve never read the children’s book Madeline (1939) by Ludwig Bemelmans you will have no idea what I’m talking about, but that just gives you an excuse to find it at your local library or bookstore. But surprise, surprise this entry is about madeleines and not Madeline.

Madeleines are shell shaped cookies that taste more life a muffin or miniature cake than a cookie. They are a French classics and so last weekend I decided to make some. The first batch didn’t turn out so great, but after adjusting the oven settings they were fine. The madeleines were surprisingly easy to make, minus the difficulties with the oven. All you need are:
1 c. sugar
1 c. butter (melted)
1 c. flour
2 eggs
Mix the ingredients together. (The consistency should have a bit of hold to it, but not too soupy. Adding some water or milk will make the batter less thick.)
Bake at 425 °F for 8-12 min or until golden. And voilà, la madeleine!
(You can also add a bit of vanilla or orange zest if you’d like.)

They’re pretty hard to mess up, even my first batch tasted good, though it wasn’t entirely baked through to the bottom. The French girls nearly died of laughter when they saw my first miserable attempt, but I think I earned their respect after the second batch. I’ll bet even Marcel Proust* would approve of my “petites madeleines.”

As for this weekend, it’s the Pont de l’Ascension (Bridge of Ascension) which is celebrated 40 days after Easter. The reason it is called a bridge is because the holiday occurs on a Thursday, but the French bridge over to the weekend and take off Friday as well. Yay! Four day weekend for me! I’m not traveling this weekend so I’m looking forward to relaxing in Angers. Some friends and I are supposed to have a picnic with baguettes and cheese.

Hoping for some sunshine!

Heidi

*Marcel Proust was a 20th century French writer who was famous for writing about his memories of eating madeleines. In fact, this deliciously simple cookie is often referred to as "la petite madeleine de Proust" (Proust's little madeleine).

The Nun and the Muguet

2010-05-02T14:41:00.000-07:00

I was on my way to meet some friends at the castle for lunch and a bible study when I was stopped by an elderly nun. She offered me a sprig of muguet (Lily of the Valley) and told me, "It's for you." I thanked her, wished her good day and then watched as she continued down the road. It was such a simple, but beautiful gesture. I was so touched.

Giving muguet is traditional for the Fête du Travail (Labor day) which is May 1 for basically every country except the US and Canada. I never expected I would be a recipient of the muguet, but I was and it was perfect. I hadn't had anything to bring to the luncheon so I felt it was only right to pass on the good luck and leave the sprig with my friends. But that one act was so heartwarming I felt wonderful for the rest of the day. It just goes to show that small acts of kindness are bigger than they seem.

Many Blessings!

Heidi

Flanders Day 5: “Partir, c’est mourir un peu”

2010-04-30T12:15:00.000-07:00

I’m sitting on the TGV watching the beautiful countryside pass me by as the sun slowly sets. The fields are emerald green and vibrant yellow and the trees are covered in leaves. Currently, I’m listening to Dr. Dog’s “Where’d All the Time Go” and reflecting on my adventures…

This morning Rik and I went for a walk by the lake and we were lucky enough to see lots of nesting birds with their followings of ducklings. I was so content not to go to another museum or see another old building. Though it’s wonderful seeing historic buildings and ancient artifacts, no man-made object can ever replace the beauty of nature.

After the walk and some lunch it was time to say goodbye. At the train station I ate my first (and hopefully not last) scrumptious Belgian waffle. Rik said I reminded him of Philine, his granddaughter, because that was the first and last thing she always did.

My observations on Belgium:

1. People are more willing to speak English than in France or Norway (Norwegians speak English well, but they’re just more shy about it).

2. Most people in Belgium speak about 3-4 languages: Flemish, Dutch (because it is almost the same as Flemish), French, English and German are the primary ones.

3. Each type of liquid (be it water or beer) is served in a different type of bottle and glass. There’s SO many varieties of beer which is astonishing because it means that for every single type there is a different bottle and different glass with that type of beer's name on it. Yikes.

4. Kriek is one of the most popular drinks, especially for girls. It’s a very sweet, fruity and delicious cherry beer.

5. There are lots of similarities between Flemish and English and I think it would be easier to pick up than Norwegian. For example, “dank u” is “thank you” and “goeiemorgen” is “good morning.”

6. I have never seen so many bicycles in one place in my entire life. If anyone has ever lost a bike or had one stolen...it's probably here.

Living with the Verbekes was like living with a French family. I went from speaking a ton of English and almost no Norwegian to speaking a ton of French and almost no English. This spring break was marvelous and I’m so grateful that I was able to stay with both the Brunvolls and the Verbekes.

Vaarwel! (for now)

Heidi

Sidenotes:

1. Made it to Lille-Flandres station and saw the cathedral there, but then almost missed my train from Paris to Angers because I thought I could walk from the Gare du Nord to the Gare Montparnasse in an hour and a half. (Yes, that was a dumb idea, but hey, I figured out why subways are such a good idea.) Word to the wise, don’t attempt it. Especially if you’re carrying 80 pounds on your back.

2. I was so happy to be back in Angers! It has really come to feel like home.

3. The quote at the top means: “To leave is to die a little.”

4. Dr Dog’s “Where’d All the Time Go”: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=M0f5MHtm63k

Flanders Day 4: Brussels—Capital of Europe

2010-04-29T00:29:00.000-07:00

Headed for the train station once again, but this time we were going in the opposite direction towards Brussels, the seat of the European Union. We got off at the Brussel-Centraal station one of three different train stations you can get off at. (The double “aa” isn’t a mistake. Lots of words in Belgium have “aa.”) This can be very confusing and with my recent train luck it’s a good thing Rik was there.

First stop: the Grand Place. A large flower market dominates the center, but the buildings surrounding it were highly impressive. We found the Hôtel de Ville, which resembles a church, and signed up for a guided tour. The ticket also got us into the Museum of Costumes & Lace and King’s House Museum, which is directly opposite the Hôtel de Ville, for free. The Museum of Costumes had a special exhibit on clothes from the 60s and the dresses and lace were just too cool. It was a quick visit because we needed to get to our tour at the Hôtel de Ville.

During the tour, we saw various portraits of famous personages, like Napoleon Bonaparte, and the different rooms where affairs of the state take place, the Board room and Marriage room. I learned that Brussels was attacked by Louis XIV and in the process part of the Hotel de Ville was destroyed. On top of the tower is Saint Michel and his figure is located everywhere throughout Brussels because he is Brussels’ patron saint.

Second stop: the King’s House. Inside were paintings and sketches of Brussels through the ages. But the best part was the display of Manneken Pis (in Dutch: Little boy peeing). Manneken Pis is a small fountain a block from the Grand Place and it is a HUGE tourist attraction. At the museum they had his entire wardrobe and jeesh does he have a lot of clothes, over 800 outfits. I’m definitely jealous. He has costumes from everywhere and impersonates SO many people. The townspeople have dressed him up as Elvis, Mozart, Nelson Mandela, a Native American, an FBI agent, Dracula, a bunch of balloons, a German, a Thailander, etc. After seeing all the costumes we went to see the little man.

We were in luck because there was a lady in the middle of changing his clothes so I got a before-and-after shot. On this day he was from Portugal. The minute she finished and turned on the fountain, there was a raucous applause and the French man next to me declared, “Ça va mieux!” (That’s much better!). His statement was hilarious because in the museum we’d seen a film from the 90s showing different tourists’ reactions to the fountain and his response would have fit perfectly into the documentary.

Third stop: the Royal Palace and Brussels park. The present Royal Family doesn’t use it as a Royal residence, but it was still neat to see it. In fact the king lives in another castle (at Laken) which is in a suburb of Brussels. Brussels Park was so different from the French gardens. French gardens are well planned while this Belgian park still had some wildness about it.

Fourth stop: MiniEurope. Basically like going to Disneyland and walking amongst the Storybook Land Canals.* Every country in the European Union was represented by at least one Lilliputian national monument. So now I don’t have to visit London or Barcelona or Rome because I’ve already seen their greatest monuments. Just kidding. If traveling and site seeing were just about seeing grand monuments, it wouldn’t be half as fun. Traveling is all about experiencing everything with all your senses. You want to see everything, yes, but just as important, if not more so, is feeling, smelling, tasting and listening to everything around you. That’s how you really get to know a place. Still MiniEurope was unbelievably cool and now I want to visit those places even more. It was especially amazing seeing the places I’ve actually been to: Chenonçeau, Ghent, Bruges, Brussels and Paris.

Final stop: the Atomium. It resembles a gigantic iron atom (it’s 102 m or 335 ft tall) and was built for the 1958 World Expo. We took what was once the fastest elevator in the world to the very top where there is a restaurant and a panoramic view of Brussels. Afterwards we went into some of the other eight spheres via escalator or stair for an exhibit dedicated to World Expo 1958. It was funny watching the old cleaning product commercials for housewives—these women were mopping the floor in heels and dresses!

On the walk back from the train station I told Rik that though I liked all the cities I’d seen, I preferred Ghent to them all. He said a lot of people have said that because although Ghent is old, “C’est une ville qui vit” (It is a city which lives).

Heidi

*Storybook Land Canals: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Storybook_Land_Canal_Boats

Staircase in Hôtel de Ville

Napoleon

Flanders Day 3: Bruges—Venice of the North

2010-04-28T02:54:00.000-07:00

Rik and I hopped on a train for Bruges--directly west of Ghent and where Rik grew up (his parents owned a hotel called The Golden Horn). Our first stop was the Burg. The Burg is a spacious area where the Hôtel de Ville (town hall), belfry and Basilica of the Sacred Blood are located. The Basilica was my favorite church because its Gothic interior was so colorful (it’s also got an austere Romanesque lower chapel, but it wasn’t quite as cool). Only managed to take one picture because pictures weren’t allowed. The reason it’s called “Holy Blood” is because it houses a piece of cloth contains blood that Joseph of Arimathea wiped from Jesus’ body. Various myths surround it, but the most likely history is that the relic was sent from Constantinople to Bruges in 1204 during the Fourth Crusade. Of course, whether or not it’s actually Jesus’ blood is subject to debate.

Next up were some churches and museums. In Bruge’s Notre Dame there was a marble statue of the “Virgin and Child” by Michelangelo that faintly resembles the “Pièta.”
The Groeninge Museum is home to Jan van Eyck’ “Madonna with Canon Joris van der Paele,” Hiëronymus Bosch’s “Last Judgment,” works by Hugo van der Goes, Marcel Broodthaers, Jan Brusselmans, René Magritte, James Ensor, and other Flemish painters. Van Eyck’s “Madonna” was beautiful with astonishing details like light from the windows reflecting off the knight’s armor. Bosch’s piece was creepy because it showed people being tortured and skinned alive. I prefer his other, more famous piece “The Garden of Earthly Delights,” the other one gives me the heebie-jeebies.

Bruges is known as “Venice of the North” so naturally we had to take a canal ride. Again, the boat ride was wonderful. We passed about 20 swans just napping in the grass and navigated in between the buildings on either side of the canal. I’m so impressed that these buildings stayed intact through both World Wars. Each building was marvelously different from the one next to it.

In the streets there were many horse drawn carriages pulling people about making the city, making it feel even more like a time capsule. We even came across a woman making lace (another thing Bruges is known for.) Our last stop was the Beguinage which is sort of like a monastery or convent, but less strict. God seeking or spiritually minded women could live in this small community and seek refuge from the outside world. They took vows of obedience and chastity, but not of poverty and could leave the community at any time they wished.

We returned home and I got a tour of the Verbeke’s apartment which is almost a museum in its own right. They’ve got miniatures from all over the world: China, Thailand, the US, Africa, etc. Rik also showed me a bunch of photos from his military life in the Belgian Congo. He had some old black and white photos of his men cutting open an enormous snake and finding a partially digested antelope inside!

Rita made salmon and white asparagus (I’d thought there was only the green kind) for dinner, which we ate on the balcony. And then we had sundaes with Belgian chocolate and chocolate “Conga” sprinkles.

Yum!

Heidi

P.S. There’s also a recent movie called In Bruges with Colin Farrell and Ralph Fiennes. If you liked Pulp Fiction, you’ll probably like it. It’s violent, has excessive swearing, and consists of black humor with elements both tragic and comic. The best part about it is that it gives you a good idea of what Bruges looks like.

Jan Brusselman's "Still Life with a Fan"

Portal into the Beguinage.

The Bruges Belfry.

Flanders Day 2: 2010 Ghent Floralies

2010-04-27T09:38:00.000-07:00

So what’s a floralie? And what are the Ghent Floralies? Floralie stems from the Latin word “floralia” meaning, you guessed it, flowers. It’s connected with Ancient Roman May Day celebrations and flower festivals and today it signifies much the same thing. As to the second, the Ghent floralies is an international flower exhibit that was started in 1808 by Frans Van Cassel and the Society of Agriculture and Horticulture (which in 1815 became the Royal Society of Agciculture and Horticulture).

Van Cassel was a passionate gardener and collector of exotic plants who just wanted to share his love of horticulture. The very first exhibition was February 6, 1809 though it wasn’t known as the “Floralies” until 1873.

Today the flower festival lasts for one week and occurs every five years. (Talk about being in the right place, at the right time.) This 34th floral expo boasted a 2km walk; 4.5 hectares (11 acres) of indoor garden—the largest in the world; 300,000 visitors; 305 exhibits, and foreign presence from Canada, China, Denmark, Germany, France, Kenya, Italy, Japan, South Africa, Sweden, the Netherlands and the United States.

So that’s a brief summary of what it is, but that doesn’t even begin to convey what it was like being there. The smells that assail you are luscious, like a breathable elixir. It was incredible. Not only were the colors extremely vibrant, but the variety of flora was astounding. Guaranteed, every color on the spectrum was represented.

If you ever get the chance to go, or are anywhere near Belgium in April of 2015, you have to go. End of discussion.
Heidi

Flanders Day 2: Mystery of the Mystic Lamb

2010-04-27T07:58:00.000-07:00

Day 2 was just as busy as the first. We got an early start and took off for the 2010 Ghent Floralies (sorry I’m going to leave you with a cliff hanger and explain that in the next post.) After the Floralies, Rik and I climbed the Ghent belfry which was like a mini, vertical museum. Each level had something different: There was a collection of the old bells that were once used as well as the original dragon from the top of the spire, the watchmens’ room and the clock mechanism which looks like a gigantic music box. At the top was a magnificent view of the city. I learned that work was first started on the belfry in 1313 and that it uses 54 bells to chime out the time every fifteen minutes.

Afterwards we walked to the Gravensteen, or Ghent castle. Inside the donjon were a bunch of weapons and a torture chamber with devices like thumbscrews, brands, a stretcher and spiked collars. Very gruesome. The actual chateau was constructed in 1180 by Philippe of Alsace, but the first fortifications were started in the 9th century.
Rita met us for lunch and I got my first taste of Belgian fries. Did you know French fries actually originated in Belgium? Well, they do and naturally the originals are better. Hands down.

Following lunch I met Rik and Rita’s neighbor Hilde for her guided tour of Ghent. She told us (the French tourists and I) that at one point, the castle keep was taken over by University students in protest of the rising price of beer. One of the French guys joked that that was a worthy cause if there ever was one. We passed the old Poissonerie which definitely doesn’t look like a fish market with its statue of Neptune and the Boucherie (Butchery) with fake ham hanging from the ceiling and a colonnade with Napoleon’s eagle. Next was the impressive St Bavo’s cathedral. Inside was a painting by Peter Paul Reubens and the triptych “Adoration of the Mystic Lamb” by Jan Van Eyck.

The triptych, painted in 1432, was wayyy larger than I thought and incredibly detailed. It also features prominently in Nazi conspiracy theory. Bought by the King of Prussia in the early 1800s, it was exhibited in Germany until the Germans had to give it back to Belgium as part of the World War I war reparations. Apparently the Germans greatly resented this because in 1942, Hitler ordered that the altarpiece be taken back to Germany. It was stolen by the SS and stored in a salt mine until recovered by the Americans who gave it back to Belgium in a special ceremony. (No French officials were invited to the ceremony because Belgium was still mad at France for allowing the painting to be taken.) But before it became a German hostage there was an earlier attempt to steal the altarpiece that was partially successful. In 1934, one of the panels “Just Judges” was stolen and it has never been recovered. (Forget Detective Poirot, where’s Indiana Jones?) And that is the true mystery of the mystic lamb.

The last item on our agenda was a canal ride accompanied by coffee and biscuits. I’ve always loved boat rides and this one was so very relaxing. I enjoyed looking at the colorful buildings on either side of the canal and the chess players on the quay.

Right after getting back from the tour, the Verbeke’s and I went to meet Rik's sister, Nicole, and her husband, Hugo, who live maybe 15 minutes away. Hugo is a sculptor and he showed me his workshop, his gallery, the different sculpting tools, and even explained the difference between stone and marble (marble is far more difficult to work with because it’s more crystallized). It was SO cool. I’d never seen anything like it and the smoothness of the stone compared to what it was like before being sculpted was unbelievable.

For dinner we went to the Flemish castle of Ooidonk and ate in the carriage house next door, but not before seeing the Lys river. Dinner was magnificent: filet mignon with mushrooms accompanied with a white wine. And the conversation was even better. What an unforgettable day!

Tot ziens!

Heidi

P.S. The Treaty of Ghent between the US and Great Britain for the War of 1812 happened here. And there’s a LEGAL graffiti wall.

Flanders Day 1: Ghent

2010-04-26T03:05:00.000-07:00

Ghent is Amazing (notice the capital “A”). The city is located in the heart of Flanders which is the north part of Belgium and includes cities like Brussels, Bruges and Antwerp. Some of the most famous Flemish painters are Peter Paul Reubens, Jan Van Eyck and both Breughels. I really had no idea what to expect, but right from the bat things went well. First, it was lovely having trains that went where they were supposed to, when they were supposed to. Secondly, I was again visiting some close friends, Rik and Rita Verbeke, and it was wonderful going somewhere I already knew people. (The Verbeke’s daughter and granddaughter live right next door to me back home so I’ve met them multiple times in the US.)

It was go, go, go from the minute I arrived (very necessary in order to fit everything in to my slightly shortened stay.) Rik met me at the train station in the late evening and we walked the ten minutes back to his and Rita’s apartment.
After dinner Rik dropped Anne, Astrid and me off in centre-ville (Anne is their granddaughter and she studies at the University in Ghent. Astrid is Anne’s friend) so we could meet up with their university friends. The sun was just setting as we walked past an old church onto a bridge spanning the canal. Hordes of students were just hanging out on the river. I couldn’t believe how magical everything looked as night drew nearer. More incredible was the liveliness of this ancient city—both sides of the river were full of people just enjoying the nice weather. When it got colder we found a bar nearby and upstairs there were these old history buffs who had taken up half the room with a reenactment of a battle in the American Civil War. (I should have asked them why the American Civil War of all things, but unfortunately, I don’t speak Flemish.) It was a long day of traveling, but I will never forget the beauty of the canals at night.

Catch ya later, alligator,

Heidi

P.S. The Verbekes were just in the States and my parents gave them some Skippy and Jif peanut butter to give to me! I think I’m in heaven.

P.S.S. I'm a bit behind with posting so these next few dates won't actually match when I was in Belgium.

Of Ice and (Snow)Men

2010-04-24T04:06:00.000-07:00

A lot has happened since I last wrote, but long story short is my flight to Paris was cancelled BUT thanks to the Brunvolls I managed to get a direct flight to Belgium just two days after my original flight. During my last days in Norway I did koselig things like grocery shopping, cooking dinner, and even driving! In Norway! That’s one thing I definitely didn’t think I’d get to do in Europe, but I got to take Frida to swim practice. I forgot how freeing it is to be able to drive. Food shopping is extremely interesting in different countries because the products are so different. Sometimes it’s more fun to walk into a super market than visit another cathedral or museum. In one of the Norwegian grocery stores there was an aisle dedicated to Americans: Skippy peanut butter, Hershey’s syrup, marshmallow fluff and Macaroni & Cheese.

On one of the days it snowed! In April! Marte and I weren’t about to let that bog us down so we threw on some warm clothes and went outside to have a snowball fight, make snow angles and build a snowman. Our snowman turned out a little creepy, but it was “the doing” and creativity that mattered. Afterwards we ate porridge, nachos, guacamole, hot chocolate and popsicles (but not at the same time). A couple days later all the snow melted in the warmth of the sun.

Here are some random observations:

>In Norwegian schools, they call their teachers by their first names.

>For lunch they eat open faced sandwiches and they don’t take brown paper bags to school with them. They wrap the sandwiches in wax paper and put pieces of wax paper between each slice of bread and topping.

>You’re not supposed to mix the cinnamon, sugar, butter and raisins in porridge like you would oatmeal, though it’s permissible.

>In Norway most second year high schoolers study abroad to improve their language skills. (For example, Frida will be staying with my family and attend my old high school in the fall.) I wish there was more of this in the US because studying abroad vastly expands one’s world view and encourages one to get out of one’s comfort zone and speak another language.

>TV shows and movies are NOT dubbed (unless it’s a cartoon film like Ice Age, Shrek or Disney). There’s simply Norwegian subtitles which is excellent for improving one’s language skills.

>In my very humble opinion, the Molde panorama is at its best during sunrise or sunset because of the pink glow the sun casts across the snow caps. But it looks good at all times, except when there’s fog or a snowstorm—then you can’t see anything.

>Norwegian sounds more like Chinese or Japanese than it does German.

>“Takk” means “thank you,” “nie” is “no,” “ja” is “yes,” "Norge" is " Norway," “melde” is “milk,” “ost” is “cheese,” “sjokolade” is “chocolate,” “hei” or “hallo” is “hi” and “ha det” or “ha det bra” is “goodbye” (even though you’re actually saying “Have it” or “Have it good”).

>There is only one verb construction for pronouns. So instead of saying “I am,” You are,” and “She is,” you say “I is,” “You is,” and “She is.” This makes grammar a heck of a lot easier to learn.

>The Troll Forests are named so because the rocks and trees drip with moss and lichen. They aren’t in a particular place, it’s just what the forests are called. I count myself lucky not to have come across any trolls.

>The back page of the Molde newspaper prints a sort of gossip column where inhabitants can argue about all sorts of things: whether cats should be put on leashes, complaints about hikers on ski trails and skiers on hiking trails (what happened to sharing?), and lost M & Ms.

>It’s hard to avoid knowing something about basketball if you live in the US, but most people have never played basketball or know what it is. During P.E. class they were just learning how to do to lay-ups. Teachers are very chill here so I got to play too and after a couple lay-ups the teacher turned to the other girls waiting in line and “She’s done that before.” When I found out what she said I started cracking up because I’m absolutely horrible at basketball and lay-ups especially.

Saying goodbye was strange. I’d been living in Norway for about two weeks and it really came to feel like home. I’m so glad I got to spend as much time there as I did. I can’t wait to visit again in the summertime! But on to Belgium.

Tally ho!
Heidi

Russ

2010-04-17T04:45:00.000-07:00

Last night I went to a Russ pants decorating party at Siri’s house. The Russ (roose) are graduating Norwegian high schoolers and instead of running around in caps and gowns, they create mayhem in overalls. For 17 days (May 1 -17), the Russ are on the loose. The Russ time is one enormous party all throughout Norway during which the Russ do all these crazy things since this as seen as the last time for acting undignified and childish. Red overalls are the dominant color, but there are also blue, white, green, and black overalls (each color corresponds to what you're studying in school).

Each person is given a nickname by their friends for their Russ cap and for every activity completed they get a knot or token for the black string on their cap. Some of the more harmless activities involve swimming in the ocean before May 1st, putting a “For Sale” sign on a police car, spending a school day crawling on your hands and knees, sleeping in a tree, etc, but many "tasks" involve a lot of drinking (the legal drinking age is 18 over here). Fifty crazy things earn you a silver tassel and 70 gets you a gold one.

The Russ also ride around on red bikes or in these red cars or vans that are painted with people’s names and group names. They hand out Russ cards (mock business cards with funny pictures and sayings) and kids collect them like Pokemon cards. The festivities end on May 17th which is the Norwegian National Day. On this day everyone turns out in their bunads and there are tons of parades in which the Russ feature prominently. (On the 17th of May, it's also a rule that parents can't tell their kids to stop eating ice cream so you can eat as much ice cream as you want.)

Anyway Marte and her friends needed to get their pants all decorated so we had an arts & crafts party with Norwegian waffles on the side. I got to be an honorary Russ and decorated a red shirt for the occasion. The girls got a kick out of my coat of arms--the crossed osthøvels.

Heidi

It's a Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World

2010-04-15T03:28:00.000-07:00

Last night we grilled hot dogs outside! It was pretty cold but with our heat lamp, blankets, layers and wood burning fire the whole thing was very koselig (cozy and nice and comfortable, pronounced coosh-li). We had two types of dogs, the regular ones and then these fatty ones with cheese inside (ostegrill). We wrapped them in lompe (this pita type bread made from potatoes). Also roasted marshmallows and made s’mores with these cookies that already have chocolate on them. And we bought these special Easter eggs with vanilla inside and melted them too.

Today I went to the MFK (Molde Football Klub) game. I met Kine there since Marte had a huge test she needed to study for. The game was really exciting! Molde won 3-2 and I got to cheer along with everyone and sit in the nice stadium out of the rain and wind under Kine’s koselig blanket. It was definitely more fun than the game I saw in France.

The big news of the day is the eruption of a volcano beneath Iceland’s Eyjafjallajokull (ay-yah-FYAH'-plah-yer-kuh-duhl) glacier. It’s responsible for shutting down almost all European airports (24 in France, including CDG). This is what an article on yahoo said, “The agency said Britain had not halted all flights in its space in living memory, although many were grounded after the Sept. 11, 2001, terrorist attacks in the United States.” Over 4,000 flights have been cancelled and they have no idea how long this will last. Experts have said this could take days to clear up which would be pretty unfortunate for me since I’m supposed to fly back to France (although it wouldn’t be bad staying in Norway, it’s just I want to go to Belgium too.)

Anyway it’s a huge disturbance. A bunch of world leaders were going to attend the funeral for the Polish president and it’s the Queen of Denmark’s 70th birthday so some of her royal pals were going to visit her, but can’t now, not to mention the fact that all my friends are traveling, or trying to travel, right now and can’t get to where they need to go what with the train strikes and volcanoes. What can I say? It’s a mad, mad, mad, mad world.

Heidi

P.S. I bought my very own Norwegian brunosthøvel (brown cheese slicer). And it’s the cheese that’s brown, not the slicer.

“There’s no bad weather, only bad clothing”

2010-04-14T05:29:00.000-07:00

Since coming here five days ago I’ve been all over Molde: boating to Heart Island in the fjords, exploring the troll woods, going for a joy ride and to Norwegian high school, hiking in the mountains, baking boller and eating lots of Norwegian food.

I also played Norwegian catch phrase with Marte’s friends (extremely difficult if you don’t know Norwegian), went to an aerobics class, and went to a church youth group (Marte translated everything for me). Except for the whole language thing, I’m living exactly like a Norwegian and it’s fabulous. The best part about it has been staying with my friends because it’s like being with family. I feel like I have three sisters again, only their names are different: Marte, Frida and Synne (Andreas is their older brother, but he’s studying in Trondeheim right now).

I’m guessing you’ve heard of Oslo, but I doubt you’ve heard of Molde (pronounced Molda). It’s an hour’s flight northwest of Oslo and is located amongst the fjords and mountains. (The Molde panorama consists of 222 peaks.) During World War II, Molde was almost entirely destroyed and for a while the King of Norway hid in Molde. Nobel Prize winner, Bjørnstjerne Bjørnson, was raised in Molde. It is known as the “Town of Roses” and is home to the internationally famous Molde Jazz Festival which takes place during the summer. Soccer and handball are the most popular sports (in the PE class I went to they were only just learning how to play basketball). Kroners are the currency and it’s about 6 kroners to the dollar, or 8 kroners to the euro, which you’d think would improve one’s purchasing power. But unfortunately things are really expensive. The cheapest ice cream was 10 kroners while the best was 45 kroners (about 7 dollars). Also famous is the ananasbrus, a special pineapple soda produced only in Molde.

Norwegian breakfast, lunch and snack food consists of open faced sandwiches and as in France, bread is all important. Grocery stores have bread slicing machines, so cool! Different combination toppings for bread include: cucumbers and margarine; cheese and grapes; caviar and mayonnaise; brown cheese with or without jam; liver paste and cucmbers; cream cheese and turkey; cloud berry jam, etc. Cloud Berries are these orange raspberry-ish berries that you have to hunt for high in the mountains at the end of summer. When people locate a cloud berry spot they keep it secret because these berries are so rare.

Yesterday Synne and I (with Hilde’s help) made boller (pronounced bola) which are sweet rolls. They’re not really that difficult to make, the only tricky part is the yeast. I also figured out that cardamom is what gives boller its distinct smell and flavor. For the recipe, you mix a bunch of melted butter and milk with sugar, flour, cardamom and yeast. Then stir and let the dough rest. Afterwards separate the dough, roll it into balls, brush it with egg white and stick it in the oven and let the smell waft through the air. Afterwards you can eat them plain or with frosting or cheese or jam or whipped cream or butter. I hadn’t had one in years and it was delicious!

The traditional dress is the bunad. These outfits are worn for special occasions like baptisms and the 17th of May celebration, though Marte tells me that no one would bat an eye if someone wearing a bunad just walked into their store. For weddings everyone, except the bride, wears them since it’s like wearing your finest. The detailed embroidery and colors are remarkable and also distinguish which part of Norway you come from.

Ha det!

Heidi

P.S. The quote at the top is a very fitting Norwegian saying.

Spring Break 2010

2010-04-10T16:04:00.000-07:00

So you know how I had train problems last week? Well this week the trains decided to go on strike (or rather the people did and that meant that my trains were also on strike). This was unfortunate since I needed to get to Charles De Gaulles airport for my flight to Oslo and then Molde (pronounce mold-a), Norway. Long story short, I had some very narrow misses with getting on the trains because basically I had to just hop on any train going where I wanted to go at the time I wanted to leave at. But I made it to CDG and then got to sleep for a couple hours.

I made it to Oslo which I've decided is my favorite airport of all time. It's actually pretty. Its very well designed, easy to get around, kinda homey, and there's English everywhere. Oh and the employees get from A to B via scooters...how cool is that?!

Slept another couple hours and then finally arrived in Molde around 8:30pm (it was a longg day since I'd gotten up around 5:30am).

I'm staying with some very good friends of mine, the Brunvolls. They moved back here when I was in 7th grade and I've only gotten to see them every other year or so. Anyway Norway is beautiful and they've got an amazing view, just look and see!

But more on Norway later.

Ciao,

Heidi

P.S. I'll be here for nine days and then I go to visit my friends in Belgium!

Joyeuses Pâques!

2010-04-05T02:38:00.000-07:00

You might be wondering how that Easter egg hunt turned out and I have to say it was a huge success. In fact, this Easter was one of my favorite ever.

I went over to Krissy's house Sunday morning to decorate eggs and since we hadn't gotten any Easter candy yet we biked over to the supermarket and grabbed some stuff. The bike was wayy to tall for me and I had to stand on the pedals the whole time. (Also her host family's house is five stories high and looks like a museum inside. But unfortunately they aren't very nice people.)

Krissy, Mitchell, Nolan and I decorated all 52 of our hardboiled eggs. Nolan even had egg dye that his brother had sent him. And I'd bought a bottle of cidre for the occasion and shared it with everyone. We also heard Nolan’s story about how he missed his train this weekend and got the very last room in a youth hostel. Unfortunately, he had to share with some really creepy guys and barely slept at all. I’m grateful I didn’t have to deal with anything like that. And speaking of unfortunate events, Krissy’s entire house flooded from the fourth floor (in the US this would be the fifth floor) all the way to the rez-de-chaussée (the first floor). And Moe didn’t get to see the Garnier Opera house and Yuka didn’t either because she got sick and had to take the train to Angers from Paris. So I wasn’t the only one with problems this weekend.

After decorating the eggs, Mitchell and I went to the Jardin du Mail park to hide the eggs. We hid them amongst the flowers and trees surrounding the gazebo because there were about 15 different signs saying you can’t walk on the grass. I have to say my eggs were very well camouflaged. About eight other people showed up, so we told them the rules and let the hunt begin. More people were supposed to come, but honestly it didn't matter. Even if it had just been us decorators it would have been a blast.

We’d hidden 50 eggs (since we ate two) and at the end of the hunt we were still missing 7 eggs and couldn't find them because they were that well hidden. Nolan found the most (11 eggs) so he was declared the winner and given a bag of chocolate money (euros, of course). We’d also bought three other bags of chocolate—not Easter eggs—but fish, shrimp and turtles (leftovers from Poisson d'Avril). Afterwards we just hung out in the park eating chocolate and hard boiled eggs and doing bike rides in imitation of the pony rides. It was a gorgeous day, though it did rain for about 10 minutes right before the Easter egg hunt.

Then I went to 6:30pm mass at St. Maurice cathedral and it was so beautiful inside! I actually understood the majority of what was going on and got to sing along and take communion. I just wish I knew all the proper responses. The music was accompanied by an acoustic guitar (I adore acoustic guitar) and the songs were led by a group of French Africans who really livened up the place. At the end of the service they were dancing and singing and they kept going until all the lights were turned off.

I decided that the only thing that was missing from this Easter, other than family and friends of course, was the Polish sausage. But I think Grandma told me she'd freeze some for me.

Happy Easter!

Joyeuses Pâques!

Heidi

C'est La Vie: Paris (and Rennes)

2010-04-04T16:39:00.000-07:00

“Ok, don’t panic. Don’t think about the fact that this is the very last train for the night or about the fact that you’re supposed to be going to Paris the next morning with your art history class or that you don’t know anyone in Rennes, and that there probably won’t be anyone to help you at the train station since it’ll be past midnight. First, figure out where Rennes is.” I pulled out Rick Steve’s guidebook from 2003 (I’d found it in the piano room of the Foyer and asked Madam if I could borrow it) and located Rennes. It was around 130km (80 miles) from Angers. Angers is southwest of Le Mans and Rennes is directly west so it was just like taking the wrong fork in the road. “Ok, now let’s go over your options.” I could A) Sleep in the station, but if you’ve ever been to a French train station (or any train station for that matter) they are the least comfortable and most freezing places ever. Plus I was pretty sure I wouldn’t actually be able to sleep. So that probably wasn’t the safest plan. B) Hope some nice stranger would take pity on me and somehow get me back to the station the next day, but that was also risky or C) Find a cheap hotel nearby. I decided C was my best option.

An hour later, instead of the half hour to Angers St Laud, I found myself in Rennes with nowhere to go and no hope of getting a train in time for my 6:40am bus departure for Paris. I needed to decide if I was going to try to meet up with my art history class in Paris or just hang out in Rennes and take the train back to Angers. I never did decide what I was going to do because I was far too tired to think about it. I just figured I’d find a hotel, go to sleep and sort it out in the morning.

I looked at the prices for several of the hotels across the street from the station checking the prices which are conveniently located on the doors (all the restaurants put their menus out like this too). The first hotel I looked at had a room for 110 euros and I figured at that rate I’d prefer my chances sleeping in the train station. Thankfully, I located the Hotel de Bretagne and while explaining my situation to the very nice lady there she told me things like this happened all the time and told me there was no use crying (I wasn’t crying, I think she was just letting me know that she approved of my handling of the situation). She also provided me with the phrase of the weekend, “C’est la vie.” Forty euros and five minutes later I was sound asleep.
I was woken at 6:40am by Moe’s phone call. I mumbled out some explanation in French about why I wasn’t on the bus, but I took it as a sign to go to Paris, told her I’d try to find a train, jumped out of bed and went straight to the train station to buy a ticket to Paris.

I booked the 8 o’clock train for Paris Montparnasse (with no connecting trains this time), slept the whole way and arrived in Paris at 10:45am. I promptly got lost on my way to meeting up with my art history class at the Musée d’Orsay, but thankfully there are maps posted every hundred feet and I’ve got a good sense of direction so I got unlost really quickly. Eventually, I found my way to the d’Orsay only to discover that gate B was closed and no one was there. I tried explaining to a guard that my class was inside and he told me my professor would have to come out to get me. Well that wasn’t going to happen since she was the one giving the tour so I sat around for an hour and a half reading more of Isabelle, watching passerbys, taking some pictures and reflecting on life and rotten luck.

Seriously, in my entire life, I was never more homesick than in those moments. All I wanted to do was talk to my parents, my sisters, anybody and let them know how miserable I was. But I didn’t. I just remembered what the lady said, gave a huge sigh and thought “C’est la vie.” Thinking that didn’t exactly cheer me up a whole lot, but the sight of my professor, Moe and Yuka rushing out of the building did. I explained my story in garbled French to my professor (who is, by the way, one of my favorite profs here) and found that the situation was actually humorous.

So even though my first experiences in Paris weren’t all that pleasant, Paris is awesome. I got out of the train station and basically ran straight into the Montparnasse tower. And while trying to find the Musée d’Orsay, I snapped a photo of this awesome old building and found out two hours later that I’d actually taken a picture of the Louvre.
Anyway, Moe, Yuka and I went to the Garnier Opera house to meet Franzesca for lunch at a Japanese restaurant down a Parisian side street and then went back to the d’Orsay to meet up with the rest of our classmates only to find we were going right back to the Opera house. On the way I was walking past this enormous building and suddenly realized that, oh HEY, that’s the pyramid which means that awesome building I just took a picture of is the LOUVRE!!! And oh HEY that’s the Eiffel Tower!!! And those are the Tuilieries Gardens!! Omgggg I’m in PARIS right now!!! After that realization, I forgot my train troubles and enjoyed just being in Paris.

I never did get to go into the d’Orsay (don’t worry, I’m coming back to Paris again later), but I did get a guided tour of the Garnier Opera house. It was incredibly ornate and we got to see the various entrances in and out, the library, the emperor’s entrance, and the basement where some operatic costumes are kept. At one point our guide had us sit down in the middle of this room filled with chandeliers. I have never on any tour plopped down on a hardwood floor in the middle of a room so we could talk about the room and ceiling so this was really cool. Our guide was very knowledgeable about the mythological scenes on the ceiling and spoke slowly so we could understand. Most of the scenes deal with Orpheus because of his affinity for music.

After the tour we were free to wander around Paris so I called Laura, one of my friends from my hometown who is studying in Paris, to find out where we should meet up. As we were talking, I accidentally pronounced the “P” in Champs Elysees and the French lady behind me shrieked “CHAMS Elysees.” It’s funny I was in such a good mood at that point I just laughed, said “Merci,” and then said it correctly. (Seriously, who made her the word police? She didn’t have to have such a hissy fit over it. Like dude, I’m here to learn about your culture and study your language. When have you been to the States to learn about us?) Actually, I was thrilled to meet my first snobby Parisian (I mean it’s all you ever hear about, right?) and was so glad Paris didn’t disappoint. But seriously, they really do have a bad rep and don’t deserve it. Most people are really, really nice, but they have their rude people too, just like any other country.

Anyway, Laura and I decided to meet at the Champs Elysees near the obelisk. It started pouring rain, but Laura, her friend, Megan, and I managed to find each other. We went in search of shelter at a café, but since the weather cleared up almost immediately we went back to the Champs Elysees in the direction of the Arc de Triomphe. I didn’t have much time left so I said my goodbyes at Haagen-Dazs and promised I’d be back to visit in May. I love reunions!

On the way back to the bus, I passed by the Grand and Petit Palaces, crossed the Pont Alexandre which has an awesome view of the Eiffel Tower, passed the Invalides and made it back to the d’Orsay. We left around 8:30pm and didn’t get back to Angers till just before midnight. It was an exhausting weekend and one that I will never ever forget. It was a really good learning experience and it made me extremely grateful for credit cards and friends who can cheer you up.

In retrospect, I remember reading Rennes on the side of the train, but for some reason, probably exhaustion, I read it as “Nantes” which is the stop right after Angers. At any rate, taking the wrong train is one mistake I won’t be making again considering that, other than throwing out my retainers at McDonald’s in 7th grade, it’s one of the costliest mistakes of my life (though my dad assured me there would be others…oh boy). But hey, c’est la vie!

Heidi

C'est La Vie: Versailles

2010-04-04T09:15:00.000-07:00

This weekend was reflected in the weather. It was gloomy and drizzly, then sunny, then pouring rain, then hailing, then sunny again, then hailing again, and finally out came a beautiful rainbow. As I tell my story, you’ll be able to see why the temperamental weather is a good analogy for this weekend’s adventure, which will be told in two parts.

On Friday morning I headed to the train station for my 6am departure for Versailles. I’d decided a couple months ago to skip class for this because I wanted to be at Versailles to see the Grandes Eaux musicales (Musical Water show) and spend the most amount of time possible at Versailles (the trains on the weekend get to Versailles later than during the week). It was the second day of the high season which meant everything would be open longer (and be more crowded) and it was the first day for seeing the Grandes Eaux. The Grandes Eaux are special because it means that the fountains are active and period music is played all throughout the gardens. It is more expensive to go on this day, but definitely worth it, considering that the glory of Versailles is its fountains.

I slept for a couple hours on the train, but was awake to catch my first glimpse of Versailles. I honestly couldn’t believe it and consciously thought, “That can’t be Versailles … it’s too big.” It took about 15 minutes to walk from the Versailles Chantiers station to Versailles. Along the way I passed the Hotel de Ville (town hall) and a World War II memorial. I passed by a statue of Louis XIV on a horse, went through the outer gate and then waited in an enormous line to get my passport (entrance to the palace, gardens and domain of Marie Antoinette). Then I waited in an even longer line to get into the palace. The wait was comparable to waiting in line at Disneyland. The line stretched all the way from the inner courtyard to the outer gate, but it moved quickly and only took about half an hour.

The château Versailles is almost completely symmetrical. On either side are two colonnaded building with the words, “A Toutes les Gloires de la France” meaning “To all the glories of France.” The chapel on the right hand side throws off the symmetry, but in my opinion, makes it far more interesting. Alright, I thought Chambord was big (and it is for just a hunting lodge) but it can’t compete with Versailles (ironically Versailles was originally a hunting lodge as well). Versailles is absolutely gargantuan. It has 700 rooms and 67 staircases with around 6,000 paintings, 2,000 sculptures, 15,000 engravings, 2,000 windows, and over 5,000 pieces of furniture and other objects of art. I toured the King’s, Queen’s, and Dauphin’s rooms and saw an exhibition on photography of Versailles throughout the years.

My favorite rooms in the palace were the Hall of Mirrors and the Hall of Battles. Louis XIV certainly knew what he was about when he wanted to impress people because the opulence of the Hall of Mirrors was unreal (I also had fun taking pictures of myself in the mirrors). The Hall of Battles featured enormous tableaux of battles throughout the centuries. Joan of Arc and George Washington were figured in some of these scenes. I also liked the bust of Champollion, the Egyptologist who is credited with first deciphering the Rosetta stone, and all of the Napoleonic imagery, especially Jacques Louis David’s masterpiece “Le Sacre du Napoleon.” The painting was basically an enormous portraiture and you couldn’t see David’s brushstrokes at all.

While the palace itself was amazing, the grounds and gardens are what make it truly spectacular. The grounds are so extensive that even though I was at Versailles from 11am to 7pm, I still managed to miss some of the groves and fountains. In 1661, André Le Nôtre was commissioned by Louis XIV, the Sun King, to design the gardens and fountains and wow did he do an amazing job. There are approximately 50 fountains with 620 jets, 200,000 trees, 210,000 flowers, and if you were to run around the perimeter of the Grand Canal, you would have run a 5k. With so many fountains, water was, and still is, the greatest problem for Versailles. Louis XIV had somebody divert an entire river just so the fountains would work and there were various machines and hydraulics invented for the fountains. The Grand canal served as drainage for the fountains and a system of pumps, windmills and horsepower helped to circulate the water. Even still a system of whistles was employed by the servants so that the fountains could be turned off and on whenever the King walked by. In the Grand Canal there used to be scaled down ships, including a warship equipped with canons, and somebody even sent Louis XIV some gondoliers as gifts for use in the canal.

When I first walked into the gardens it had just started hailing, but I was determined to see as much as possible and a little rain wasn’t going to stop me. I made my way down the massive staircase to the Orangerie. Unfortunately, since it was still pretty chilly outside the Orangerie trees weren’t in the garden. I’m sorry, the trees weren’t outside? Aren’t trees always outside? This will make more sense after I tell you that Louis XIV was the only guy in France able to grow orange trees. The way he did this was by keeping all the orange, pomegranate, and palm trees in boxes which were moved inside during the winter and outside during the summer. I guess he must have really loved oranges.

After a while the rain stopped and then someone announced over the speaker system that the Grandes Eaux would begin. I watched as the fountains sprang to life under the magical influence of music. It totally reminded me of Disney’s Fantasia. My two favorite fountains were the Colonnade and Mirror Fountains. In the center of the Colonnade fountain is a stature of Pluto abducting Persephone. For some reason this has always been one of my favorite myths. The story goes that Pluto fell in love with Persephone, daughter of Demeter, Goddess of the Harvest, and took her with him into the underworld. He was ordered by Zeus to give her back to Demeter, but unfortunately Persephone ate seven seeds from a pomegranate. Thus Persephone had to live seven months of the year in the Underworld during (fall and winter) and could only be above ground with her mother for five months (spring and summer). That’s an extremely brief account of the story, but it’ll have to do.
The Mirror fountain was located near the King’s Garden and it was cool because it danced around to the music. See below.

My absolute favorite part of Versailles was the domain of Marie Antoinette. The Grand and Petit Trianons and the Hameau (Hamlet) were so homey and idyllic: I don’t blame her for wanting to spend time there away from the palace. The trianons were light and airy, very feminine with great attention paid to the smallest details (like the curtains and tassels). Either Marie Antoinette had a lot of help picking things out, or else she had very good taste because the trianons were exquisite.
The buildings were small and comfortable because their purpose wasn’t to impress people.
On the Trianon grounds were a grotto, rock formation, theatre, pavilion, belvedere, and Temple of Love. The Hamlet included a mill, dairy, pond and Marlborough tower. It was picturesque and its beauty was only accentuated by the rainbow which stretched across the sky. The only thing I wish I could have taken a picture of was her theatre. It wasn’t red and gold like most, but blue, white and gold.

By the time I left the farm it was around 6pm and I had to walk all the way back to the palace. My feet were really starting to protest that they couldn’t walk anymore, but I just kept going. (I think I must have walked something like 27 miles. No wonder my feet hurt.)

I am so glad that I stayed as long as I did because Versailles was so beautiful with the fading sun shining down on its façade. I’m really tempted to go back to Versailles to see the Grandes Eaux Nocturnes or just walk around the gardens again.

I had to get back to the train station for my 7:45 departure and along the way I stopped at a boulangerie to grab a mushroom quiche and chocolate sable cookie. Food never tasted so good, especially since all I’d munched on all day were two apples, three rolls of brioche and an orange.

After nine hours of just walking around my legs were dead tired and I couldn’t wait to be able to sit down on the train and sleep for the next two hours. Little did I know that 8 o’clock is just about the worst time you can board a train that had just come from Paris. The train was crazily jam packed and I barely managed to get on. I had to stand up and I didn’t even have a railing to hold on to so whenever the train slowed down or went faster I’d bump into people so that I wouldn’t fall. Two stops later the train had cleared out enough so that I was able to grab a seat. Thank goodness because I don’t think my legs could have handled that for much longer. I decided I couldn’t go to sleep so I read part of Isabelle by Andre Gide, my homework for lit class. I got off at Le Mans and waited for my connecting train.

The departure board said the TGV to Angers/Nantes would be at track 4 so that’s where I went. The train was ten minutes late because of the rain, but I boarded it and grabbed a seat. I was so exhausted and so grateful that I’d be back in Angers in half an hour. But as we were leaving the station the lady announced that this would be an hour long non-stop trip to Rennes and that she wouldn’t bother us again because a lot of people wanted to sleep. Hold on…Rennes?? I’m on a train to RENNES? Where the heck is Rennes?!?

To be continued...

Egg Hunt & Poisson d'Avril

2010-04-01T14:38:00.000-07:00

Yesterday my friend Krissy, who is from Nova Scotia, Canada, and I decided to create a Facebook event: “Chasse des oeufs de Pâques!!!” Yup, that’s right, Krissy and I are hosting an Easter egg hunt on Sunday at 3 in one of the local parks and it’s a BYOB (bring your own baguette) event. I’m so excited that we’re doing something for Easter! But that meant we were going to need some eggs.

So Krissy and I went on a mission during our hour break between literature and translation. First, we headed to Deux Euro because due to the nature of its title we figured it would be cheap to pick up a bunch of plastic eggs. While they had plenty of items for two euros, they didn’t have any eggs. So we went into Multimum which honestly I didn’t think would have anything because it mostly sells cook and dish ware and I was right, it didn’t have any eggs. Afterwards we went into The Place, a type of thrift store near the Grand Theatre. Nothing.

Then we figured ok, Monoprix will definitely have plastic eggs because it’s the largest grocery store around. Negative. They had a whole section of Easter chocolates and candy, but no plastic eggs. By this time we were getting desperate so we traversed the crazy French road and went into a confectioner’s to ask if the lady knew where one could buy plastic eggs. We tried explaining what we wanted and she thought we wanted molds in which to make egg shaped items. Luckily, one of the professors from school was in line behind us and addressed us in English. She also wasn’t sure exactly what we were looking for, but once we told her it was for kids and for hiding she knew what we were talking about. She suggested going to Carrefour (another major grocery store), but Carrefour is far enough away we’d need to hop on a bus. She offered to drive us there, but we said we had to get to class (because by that time we really did need to go to class.)

I never realized that buying plastic eggs would be so difficult. In the States, they’re a dime a dozen, but not here.
On our way back to school we thought of other ways of doing an Easter egg hunt. I suggested buying real eggs, hard boiling them and then decorating them, or just buying a bunch of chocolate eggs (though those would be really hard to find considering they’re the size of a grape). We wandered into another promising store along the way and low and behold, they had plastic eggs! Unfortunately, they weren’t the type we wanted. These ones were decorative plastic eggs that didn’t open up, had a ribbon attached to them and were three euros for six…SO not worth it. Our last stop was Diagonal, one of the smaller supermarkets a couple minutes from school. We went in just to see how much real eggs would cost and discovered you could get ten eggs for one euro. We bought the last three cases and then raced off to class with our bag of eggs. We were a little bit late, but I figured if we just yelled “Poisson d’Avril” after entering we’d be ok.

“Poisson d’Avril” is the French April Fool’s day, except literally translated it means “Fish of April.” According to French Wikipedia it originated in 1564 when France was reforming its calendar. The government moved the start of the year from March 31st to January 1 and thus, people who wanted to keep the old calendar would have pranks played on them and paper fish pinned to their backs. (Though apparently there are problems with this theory that I’m not going to go into detail about.) Anyway pranks are supposed to last all day and you’re supposed to attach a paper fish to somebody’s back and yell “Poisson d’Avril.” Oh and the chocolate shops make tons and tons of chocolate fish (along with bunny rabbits, chickens and eggs).

After getting out of class at seven, I raced home for dinner, which also very conveniently starts at seven. When I got to the Foyer I said, “Bon soir” to Madam like I always do and then said, “Nous mangeons le poisson d’avril ce soir, n’est pas?” (Good evening. We are eating the fish of April this evening, isn’t that so?) Madam got a huge kick out of that because of course we weren’t actually eating fish tonight (although surprise, surprise there were actually bits of fish mixed in with the potato salad. It didn’t taste bad, it was just funny.)

Krissy and I still needed some more eggs so we went back to Monoprix at nine. As we were leaving, Krissy tried to grab a grocery bag for the eggs, but the cashier girl told her that she couldn’t have any bags. Krissy looked totally dumbfounded, and you could almost see the words “Why won’t she let me have a plastic bag?” printed on her face. She was just about to ask why, but then the girl said, “Poisson d’Avril!” I just about died of laughter. It was the only successful prank that I witnessed all day, but it was awesome.

Happy April Fool’s! Or Le Poisson d’Avril, if you’re in France.

Heidi

P.S. Also just so you know: "poisson" is fish, "boisson" is a drink and "poison" is poison. Be careful not to ask for the latter at a restaurant.
Also, look! Spring is here!

Operation Overlord

2010-03-27T15:14:00.000-07:00

June 6,

1944.

D Day.

Le jour J.

The first day of the Invasion of Normandy and the first implementation of Operation Overlord. Number of Allied soldiers who landed on the beaches of Utah, Omaha, Gold, Juno and Sword: 132,000. Number of Allied losses: 10,500. One-tenth of the invading soldiers died on a single day.

As you can tell, this last excursion was more than a little depressing. Although I had a great time and the beaches were beautiful and it was cool being in Normandy, it was really eye opening and just plain heartbreaking.

We began our trip at Caen, the site of a very important battle during the Normandy invasion. Starting the trip at the Caen memorial and museum was smart because it refreshed everyone’s knowledge of events before, during and after World War II and prepared us well for the beaches and cemeteries. Once inside, we followed a circular timeline around this enormous ball which had pictures, posters and blurbs of the end of World War I, the Roaring Twenties, the rise of totalitarianism, the Great Depression, the rise of the Nazis and finally, the outbreak of World War II.

Once downstairs, German, Soviet, and French propaganda littered the walls. There were battle plans, gas masks, clothing items and newspaper headlines. I watched a documentary about the heroics of the RAF (Royal Air Force) during The Battle of Britain and then all of us watched a short film called The Battle of Normandy. Both films were in black and white, but the latter was cool because it divided the screen in half. On the right half were the Allied forces and on the left, the Germans. When D-Day actually started the two halves became one. After watching footage from D-Day, computer animation was used to show the different battles that took place after D-Day. It was interspersed with short clips of fighting and before and after photos of French villages.

After that I toured the gift shop, found a memorial garden dedicated to the Americans (there was a Canadian garden too which I didn’t get to see) and located a Nobel Peace Prize gallery which lists all the winners in every category. Next was the Normandy American Cemetery and Memorial.

The American Cemetery is located alongside Omaha beach and is operated by the American government, free from French taxes in gratitude for the United States’ support during the war. Omaha and Utah were where the American troops invaded while Gold and Sword were British and Juno was Canadian.

To prepare myself, I watched the beginning of Saving Private Ryan the night before because the opening scene features this same cemetery. I will never forget the first time I saw Saving Private Ryan. I was in 10th grade American history and I was so horrified by the staggering number of crosses, I cried. I’d been to Arlington National Cemetery when I was in 5th grade, but when you’re that young it’s hard to appreciate the gravity and magnitude of the situation. (Opening scene from SPR: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EZJANhWizUY)

While wandering among the crosses I noticed that most of them had the date June 6, 1944. It probably shouldn’t have been surprising, considering it was the first day of battle, but it was still extremely sobering. On the back of each cross was a number (which I assume was the man’s military service number) and on the front was their name, rank (most were privates), military unit, state and date of death. Jewish soldiers had the Star of David rather than a cross.
I decided to try to find a soldier who died on my birthday (July 25) and it took less than thirty seconds. I found that truly depressing. I also found the name “Emil” on several of the crosses and I kept thinking that could have been Grandpa. (Grandpa’s name is Emil and he fought with the Marines in the Pacific.) Exactly 9, 387 men are buried here with 307 unknown. On the “Walls of the Missing” are inscribed another 1, 557 names. Though very sad, it really is a beautiful tribute to the heroic men who died on the beaches of Normandy.

Afterwards we went down to Omaha beach. There were these really amazing sculptures in the sand and this other monument that kinda looked like a ramp from a skate park. (Snapped a shot of Adam, who very patriotically, wore his red, white and blue Washington Capitals jersey.) We only had 15 minutes at the beach so I didn’t race down to the water with the others. Instead, I sat on the steps just thinking about what had happened on these sands sixty six years earlier. The beach was beautiful, but I don’t think I’d ever be able to swim around or play games at this beach knowing that so many men died on its shores.

Next we went to the Point du Hoc which is in between Utah and Omaha beach and I was totally unprepared for what I saw. The whole field was a mass of enormous potholes which was the work of aerial bombardment. Someone joked that it was the worst golf course they’d ever seen. Funny—until you realize that a division of Texas Rangers actually used these craters as shelter from gunfire and snipers while working their way across the point. These Texas Rangers had been ordered on a near-suicidal mission to scale the cliffs of Pointe du Hoc in order to destroy the guns at this location. It was vital that the guns be destroyed since they could fire at either Utah or Omaha beach. However, the Rangers weren’t told that the artillery had been removed to an unknown location a couple days earlier so when they reached the top they were being picked off by snipers and the guns weren’t to be found. Eventually, two soldiers found the well-camouflaged guns about a kilometer away and destroyed them.

Originally the plan was to send in reinforcements after the Rangers reached the top, but as they were 40 minutes off schedule and had lost the element of surprise, it was thought the mission had failed. Thus, the reinforcements were diverted to Omaha beach (which in the end really helped out the Americans at Omaha) and couldn’t be sent for until two days later. By that time there were only 90 men left out the 225 who were part of the mission. Standing on the cliff and looking down to the ocean, I can’t believe they actually succeeded. It looks totally impossible.

I went into one of the bunkers and couldn’t see anything; it was pitch black and it reeked (of God knows what) in there. It made me feel a little bit sorry for the Germans. Anyone with claustrophobia would have gone crazy in there. I also squeezed into one of the foxholes on the cliff. Really this place would have been perfect for “Capture the Flag,” but again I don’t think that would be very respectful.

The last place we visited was the La Cambe German war cemetery. It felt more like a cemetery than the American and twice as many men were buried there (21,222 with 207 unknown burials). We also passed a Polish cemetery (which I mention because I’m half Polish) and lots of cows, sheep and horses. I should also probably mention that the Normandy region is famous for its Camembert cheese, cidre, Calvados (a highly alcoholic apple brandy), oysters, andouille sausage, crème fraiche, and of course, the Bayeux tapestry.

Here's hoping this post reminds you of all you have to be thankful for,

Heidi

The spiky things are called Czech hedgehogs, and the gas mask definitely reminds me of Greedo from Star Wars (the alien who tries to shoot Han Solo in the cantina). The chapel, mosiac, and engraving are all from the American cemetery.

Peanut Butter Jelly Time

2010-03-23T11:47:00.000-07:00

Today was the Journée Internationale and it was a blast! Our group of Americans had been meeting on Thursdays during lunch for several weeks planning for this day and it was a huge success. No countries were allowed to use flags (apparently the Chinese students get very offended when the Taiwanese students try to bring out their flag), but we could decorate with red, white and blue; in fact, we borrowed France's decorations. We had a slideshow going with pictures of the entire US and music playing from a stereo, also borrowed from the French.

One of my friends located some good peanut butter and strawberry jam so we made a bunch of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for our food item. It was so simple, yet sooo delicious. The hardest part was not eating the sandwiches after they were made because all of us hadn't had a PB & J in sooo long! Plus the sandwiches were perfect because people here really don't know what they're all about. At first, they were weirded out by the peanut butter, looked at it as if it were poison and said things like, "Peanut butter? What?" But usually after tasting it their skepticism faded and they were saying, "Wow this is SO good!" And we were like, "We know!"

One French girl liked PB & J so much she came running up to our table, dragging her friends behind her and started jumping up and down she was so excited. She made all her friends try the sandwiches and then if they didn't like it, she'd eat it for them. She came back after every class period for more. Her enthousiasm for peanut butter was awesome, and very contagious. By the time I finally ate a sandwich, I was hopping up and down too. I hope that I will never again take peanut butter for granted. I just feel bad that the girl couldn't try American peanut butter. If I ever find out who she is I'll have to send her a jar of Skippy or Jif.

The other food was great too. I love trying new things and it was so much fun going from station to station, eating the food and looking at the other countries' costumes and decorations. The countries represented were France, Poland, Vietnam, Japan, China, Korea, Holland, Mexico and the US. The Vietnamese girls donned these beautiful dresses and served shrimp flavored rice cake things along with sausage and sticky rice. Poland served some carmel candies and bread (I think babka piaskowa) and danced around to Polka music.

The Japanese and Korean girls wore their kimonos and made this cabbage cake from Japan called okonomi-yaki and these delicious Korean noodles. They were also writing peoples names in characters so I had my name written in Korean and three different ways in Japanese.

There were two French booths, one with Angers specialties like chocolates filled with Cointreau jelly and Quernons d’Ardoise (nougat coated in blue chocolate), and the other with pate du foie gras, roquefort cheese, and le petit-suisse on a baguette along with rice pudding and madeleines. Mexico made guacamole with chips (another food I'd been craving) and this chocolate and chile thing that was really interesting, but very good. They had a lot of decorations from Mexico, including a neato boxing mask.

I helped Laura and Isabel make their vlaflip (plain yogurt mixed with vanilla yogurt) and took over for them when they wanted to try some things. I had to explain to people who came up that I wasn’t actually from Holland, but that the wooden shoes are called klompen and that there are lots of cows, windmills and tulips there. It was fun pretending to be Dutch and funnier still when Moe joined me behind the table. I'm pretty sure they knew she wasn't Dutch.

But the best part of the whole thing was the fact that us Americans taught the other students how to line dance. We taught them the Cupid Shuffle, Electric Slide, Hand Jive, Macarena (I hope Mexico was cool with that), Soulja Boy, Cotton Eyed Joe and the Cha Cha Slide. We played songs from the Beach Boys, YMCA, Don't Stop Believin', Grease, Party in the USA, Thriller (one girl knew the entire dance), and Single Ladies (another girl danced this exactly like Beyonce and put the rest of us to shame). Everytime there was a break for class we’d start dancing in the hallway and have passerbys join us. It was like High School Musical ... but in college and in France. Everyone had such a great time. And better yet, I jokingly asked my my socio-culturelle teacher if we could get extra credit for putting this on and she said yes! This is perfect considering her mid-term is going to be a monster.

Bye, Au revoir, Do widzenia, Tạm biệt, Sayonara, Zài jiàn, To boayo, Dag, Adiós!

Heidi

Picture of me and my langue prof, Mme Billette! (And yes in one of the pictures, I'm the only one with my eyes closed.)

Musique Pour Tous

2010-03-22T04:16:00.000-07:00

For only three euros, I was able to attend a concert entitled “Jazz Pour Tous” (Jazz for all) at the Grand Theatre d’Angers. The theater was smaller than I thought it would be, but it was very beautiful and ornate. The light cast by the chandelier glittered on the ceiling and bounced off the gilded walls, creating a magical atmosphere. The concert was an hour and a half and it was really good, though the only piece I recognized was George Gershwin’s “Soon.” The Joe Cohn-Dimitri Baevsky Quartet was comprised of a guitarist from New York, a bassist from France, a saxophonist from Russia and a drummer from I don’t know where. It was really wonderful, except jazz always makes me feel like dancing and you can’t exactly dance in your seat. I hope the people behind me weren’t annoyed that I was swaying side to side. Grandma and Grandpa, you would have loved it.

I also saw my first film in France a bit ago. It was about the life of Serge Gainsbourg. I didn’t have a clue who he was because I know almost zero French musicians. Luckily, the French girl sitting next to me was able to tell me a lot before the film started. Gainsbourg was a famous/infamous singer-songwriter who led a rather sordid and worldly life during the sexual revolution of the 1960/70s. “Sex, drugs and rock and roll” describes him perfectly; he’s not someone I’d call a good role model. The funny thing is I watched an episode of the new 90210 last Tuesday and in the background of one of the scenes I heard a Gainsbourg song playing. I honestly couldn’t believe it. I would have never guessed I’d be hearing a French song on 90210. It was so bizarre, but pretty cool that I was able to recognize it. I give whoever found that song major props because it fit the scene perfectly. I doubt very many people watch the show, but in case you want to look it up, it was in Season 2, Episode 14 with Jasper and Annie.

This brings me to the subject of French music. I hadn’t been exposed to much French music in the States other than famous pieces like Bizet’s Carmen, Debussy’s “Le Claire De Lune,” Edith Piaf’s “La Vie en Rose,” Joe Dassin’s “Aux Champs Elysee,” “La Marseillaise” and “Frère Jacques” so I was hoping to learn a bunch more. I knew a little about Claude François, who I really like despite the fact that he earned his living ripping off other people’s songs, but that was the extent of my musical knowledge. (Claude François was famous for doing covers of Motown music by the likes of The Four Tops, Herman’s Hermits, The Beatles, Frankie Valli & the Four Seasons, Creedence Clearwater, Barry Manilow, and Don Mclean. His one original work was “Comme d’habitude” the original version of “My Way” which was made famous by Frank Sinatra. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Claude_Fran%C3%A7ois)

I quickly found that today’s French music is completely dominated by the American music industry, with the exception of French house/techno artists like Daft Punk, Bob Sinclair and David Guetta. Within a half hour of listening to the radio, I heard The Black Eyed Peas, Lady Gaga, Owl City, Taylor Swift and Elvis—all on the same station. So if you listen to KIISFM back home, you’ll feel right at home. However, if you’re more like me and like a wider variety of music that spans the decades, or just want to expand your musical knowledge, popular French stations just aren’t going to cut it. I’m going to have to ask Madame what stations play the Breton music she’s always listening to, or just resort to youtube.

The cool thing about music is that it transcends language barriers. Music connects all sorts of people because you don’t need words to express yourself, just a beat or a rhythm.

A plus!

Heidi

P.S. See if you recognize this song: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pWRVpiXHl0Q

Best Hot Chocolate in the World (at the moment)

2010-03-16T12:21:00.000-07:00

Any guesses what ananas means? Hint: It’s a fruit. (Scroll down to bottom for the answer.)

On Saturday I had the best hot chocolate I have ever had in my entire life!! Seriously, it was amazing. The chocolate was so rich and smooth and thick. It was essentially drinkable chocolate. Unfortunately, I think this has ruined me forever. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to think of hot chocolate in the same way again. So if you are ever in Angers, one of the places that you must visit is Origin’all Café ChocolaThé (the owners cleverly combined the words chocolate and tea). Not only does it sell the best hot chocolate ever, it is one of the few chocolate shops where you can sit down and enjoy yourself. The atmosphere is wonderful with its soothing brown and tan colors and the music of Billie Holiday, Frank Sinatra, and Bill Hayley and His Comets playing in the background.

Another delectable food item is the macaron. People had been telling me that I absolutely needed to try a macaron because they were “simply the best” and I finally got around to going. Macarons are sold in pretty much any chocolate or pastry shop, but I was told I needed to go to La Pause Gourmande because the macarons were made right there.

At first I thought people were trying to tell me about macaroons (the sugary star-shaped balls of coconut), but macarons are entirely different. They resemble miniature cookie sandwiches and come in a variety of vibrant colors and flavors. At a glance, they look hard to bite into, but I discovered that you really can’t trust appearances. It’s hard to describe what they taste like without eating one yourself, but I’m going to attempt it. The best analogy I can think of is that of a water droplet: if you touch the droplet the surface tension breaks and the water is released. So when you bite into the yielding shell of a macaron, the surface gives way to a soft cake layer followed by a smooth, flavorful crème filling.

C'est la perfection!

It took me a while to decide, but eventually I asked for a chocolate, raspberry and “pretty white one with pink sprinkles.” I had no idea what the pink one was till I bit into it because I had no idea what the sign barbe à papa meant. Turns out it means cotton candy. (Laurel, I promise I’ll bring this one back for you.) It also happens to be my favorite macaron flavor so far, which is weird considering I’m not a huge fan of cotton candy. I can’t decide what was second best: the chocolate tasted like a brownie and the raspberry like French’s raspberry cake. I guess they tie for second.

The shop itself was adorable and the lady behind the counter was very nice. I can’t wait to go back and try all the different flavors. Or better yet, learn how to make my own macarons. Attached is a link with a video of how La Pause Gourmande makes theirs and for the very darying, a recipe for chocolate macarons.

Bon appétit!

Heidi

Answer: So if you guessed banana…you are incorrect. In French, l’ananas means pineapple and it definitely fooled me the first time. La banane is a banana.

French’s pastry bakery--http://frenchspastry.com/home.html
La Pause Gourmande—place of the fabulous macarons: http://www.pausegourmande.fr/macarons.html
Chocolate macaron recipe pulled from this website: http://www.davidlebovitz.com/archives/2005/10/french_chocolat.html

Recipe for Chocolate Macarons
Makes about fifteen cookies
Adapted from The Sweet Life in Paris (Broadway) by David Lebovitz
Macaron Batter
1 cup (100 gr) powdered sugar
½ cup powdered almonds (about 2 ounces, 50 gr, sliced almonds, pulverized)
3 tablespoons (25 gr) unsweetened Dutch-process cocoa powder
2 large egg whites, at room temperature
5 tablespoons (65 gr) granulated sugar
Chocolate Filling
½ cup (125 ml) heavy cream
2 teaspoons light corn syrup
4 ounces (120 gr) bittersweet or semisweet chocolate, finely chopped1 tablespoon (15 gr) butter, cut into small pieces
Instructions
1. Preheat oven to 350º F (180º C).
2. Line two baking sheets with parchment paper and have a pastry bag with a plain tip (about 1/2-inch, 2 cm) ready.
3. Grind together the powdered sugar with the almond powder and cocoa so there are no lumps; use a blender or food processor since almond meal that you buy isn't quite fine enough.
4.In the bowl of a standing electric mixer, beat the egg whites until they begin to rise and hold their shape. While whipping, beat in the granulated sugar until very stiff and firm, about 2 minutes.
5. Carefully fold the dry ingredients, in two batches, into the beaten egg whites with a flexible rubber spatula. When the mixture is just smooth and there are no streaks of egg white, stop folding and scrape the batter into the pastry bag (standing the bag in a tall glass helps if you're alone).
6. Pipe the batter on the parchment-lined baking sheets in 1-inch (3 cm) circles (about 1 tablespoon each of batter), evenly spaced one-inch (3 cm) apart.
7. Rap the baking sheet a few times firmly on the counter top to flatten the macarons, then bake them for 15-18 minutes. Let cool completely then remove from baking sheet.
To make the chocolate filling:
1. Heat the cream in a small saucepan with the corn syrup. When the cream just begins to boil at the edges, remove from heat and add the chopped chocolate. Let sit one minute, then stir until smooth. Stir in the pieces of butter. Let cool completely before using.

Sunday Afternoon in the Park

2010-03-14T12:30:00.000-07:00

I wanted to do some exploring so I went for a run around the Lac du Maine (Maine Lake). But before I talk about that I’ve forgotten tell you about my excursion to the Saint-Maurice Cathedral. A couple weekends ago I went to check out the cathedral. It’s a stone’s throw from the castle and it is one heck of a cathedral. It totally dominates the skyline and up-close it’s just terrifying. Walking in was scary because someone was playing the organ and the music was really eerie. You couldn’t hear anything from the outside, but as soon as you opened the door (which was tiny for such an enormous building) the music stormed into hearing. I took a video, but forgot that videos only work horizontally, not vertically, so the clip at the bottom is purely for your listening enjoyment.

Like the Musée de Jean Lurçat, the cathedral was built in the 12th century (though there's been a church on this site since 470) and is another example of Gothic architecture. The organ, wood carved pulpit with its intricate carvings, main altar and baldequin, and stained-glass windows made this monument a real feast for the eyes.

And now for todays adventure. The lake is about 5 km, or 3 miles around and I had to run across the river and past the Parc du Balzac to get there so I probably jogged 7 km total. I didn’t run the whole time because I also brought my camera so sometimes I stopped to take photos or just walked for a bit so I didn’t pass by the scenery too quickly. It’s Sunday and only the museums, monuments and the occasional restaurant are open, but even still I was surprised by the number of people walking, jogging and biking. I just figured that since it was overcast, windy and chilly people would stay indoors with their families, but this wasn’t the case. There were people tossing a Frisbee around and little kids playing on the jungle gym and lots of couples taking a lap around the lake.

Watching these people made me reflect on certain French habits. I’ve come to the conclusion that on the whole French people pause to enjoy life more often than Americans. I think this is clearly demonstrated by their work week and lunch breaks.

In socio-cultural studies, we learned that by law, the majority of France works a maximum of 35 hours and that they are required to take either Sunday or Monday off. If they must work on Sunday, employees get paid double what they would on any other day. They also take two hour lunch breaks which are really, really long compared to the half hour I’ve grown up with. To me, it seems they do a lot less working and a lot more living because they’re more concerned with their quality of life. And quality of life can’t be bought with money so they trade money for time.

Obviously, there are problems with this lifestyle (some very major problems actually) but it reminds me of the way America once was. I wasn’t around to remember when shops were closed on Sunday afternoons, but my dad remembers and I’ll bet a lot of other people remember it too. Today it seems Sunday is one of the busiest days of the week. I know that for my family volleyball and soccer tournaments dominated our Sundays. I’m not trying to go all nostalgic or political on you with my French socialist sympathies, but I do think it’s a little sad that Americans, in general, aren’t able to spend as much time with their families. Here, families actually sit down to eat dinner at home!

At any rate, in a month or so this run will be even prettier because the trees will be flowering, not to mention it will also be a lot warmer. Once its warmer I hope to take advantage of the kayak-canoe club, and sand soccer and volleyball courts. (I didn’t realize sand soccer courts existed till today.) Or maybe I’ll just read on a park bench or lay out on the sandy beach.

Pictures are worth a thousand words so here’s several thousand words worth of pictures.

Heidi

P.S. The title alludes to George Seurat’s pointillist painting “A Sunday Afternoon on the Island of La Grande Jatte. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/A_Sunday_Afternoon_on_the_Island_of_La_Grande_Jatte

For the first picture at the top, the body of water to the right side is the Maine River and to the left is the Maine Lake. And just for perspective, in this first picture below this sentence, the small bumb in the center of the skyline is St. Maurice.

Song of the World and Return to the Castle

2010-03-09T11:37:00.000-08:00

I've decided I should be better about checking the temperature and general weather conditions before going outside. Not that I'll actually change my habits, I'm just acknowledging the fact that I could be better at it. Take this morning for example. You'd think that since it had been warm for a couple of weeks now and the birds were singing and the sun was shining brightly that spring and warmth would be on their way, right? Wrong. It was negative 4 degrees Celsius this morning and I really could have used a couple more layers, plus hat and scarf. Thankfully, I keep gloves in my coat pockets, but all the same I booked it to school.

Over the weekend Sarah and I visited the Musée de Jean Lurçat et de la Tapisserie Contemporaine (Contemporary Tapestries). It’s located within the Hôpital Saint-Jean which was a hospital built in the late 12th century in the “Plantagenet” Gothic style. (Honestly, I had no clue what the “Plantagenet” Gothic style even meant, so I looked it up and basically it’s an English variant of classical Gothic architecture…think Chartres cathedral.) As for Jean Lurçat (1892-1966), he was responsible for the tapestry’s renaissance in the 1930s. He was greatly influenced by Cubism, Surrealism, and the horrors of World War I; he was a contemporary of Picasso and Matisse.

After a visit to the Apocalypse Tapestry of Angers (discussed in an earlier blog), Jean Lurçat created his own interpretation of the masterpiece: “Le Chant du Monde” (the Song of the World). The 10 tapestries took about ten years to weave and are approximately 15 by 40 ft. These tapestries are highly symbolic and consist of vibrant images on a black background. The colors were really quite extraordinary. I wasn’t allowed to take pictures, (or rather in the process of taking a picture, I was told by a rather menacing lady that it wasn’t allowed) but that’s ok because the pictures couldn’t possibly do the tapestries justice. Even the postcards they were selling couldn’t capture the brilliancy of the colors.

One of my favorite tapestries was called, “Liberté.” It was based off of Paul Éluard’s poem of the same name and was not part of “Le Chant du Monde.” I just recently studied Éluard so I was thrilled to recognize his verse woven in tapestry (more on Éluard later). I also liked Kirsten Blasbrook’s work, “The Story Retold.” It was really easy to tell what it was about, essentially the story of Genesis, but the best part was that Blasbrook had woven runes into the sides of the tapestry which spelled out, “Miracle of Life.” (Runes are stick-like characters that form the basis of the ancient Germanic alphabet that was used prior to the adoption of our modern day Latin alphabet.) Ok so I’m guessing the existence of runes in modern art might not mean much to you and might sound pretty boring, but it meant a lot to me because in seventh grade I taught myself how to read and write in runes. Long story short, runes are awesome.

On Sunday, I returned to the castle because it was the last time it would be free. (I lied when I said the museums are free every first Sunday of the month. Apparently this is only during the low season. And the high season is just starting.) I made a second trip to the gift shop and considered buying some chain mail, but it’s really, really, really heavy (gosh I feel bad for knights and their horses) and it was over 200 euros. So I took a picture instead.

Also one of my friends dropped his phone into the moat, but not to worry, as I mentioned earlier, the moat had been transformed into a garden. The only difficulty was retrieving the phone because of A) the walls—which are about twenty feet high and B) the gate. The walls were a no-go, but what’s a gate to a nimble college student? It wasn’t until after he climbed over the gate that the real trouble started. Suddenly, arrows started flying from out of nowhere, the clang of battle could be heard from within, and the shouts of the castle guard rose above the melee warning that … alright, so that didn’t exactly happen, but it was rather anticlimactic after he hopped the gate—no one even yelled at him to keep off the grass. However, it does raise the question of how invaders did their invading, especially since the castle walls surrounded the entire city of medieval Angers and extended across the river even. When it was bombed by Allied forces in World War II the ramparts were damaged, but I have no idea how medieval attackers would even begin to take down such a formidable fortress.

Reporting in from Angers, France,

Heidi

Tapestry 1: 'Champagne' from "Chant du Monde"
Tapestry 2: A glimpse of "Chant du Monde"--they never said you couldn't take pictures from the outside looking in...
Tapestry 3: 'Le Vent ou l'Orage' (Wind or storm) not part of "Chant du Monde"
Tapestry 4: central portion of 'Liberte' also not part of "Chant du Monde"
Tapestry 5: 'Naissance du Lansquenet' (birth of Lansquenet, aka German mercenaries) --it says Guernica on there, Picasso anyone?
Medieval map of Angers--the chateau is only the small little castle at the very top on the left side of the river

Galerie de David d’Angers

2010-03-05T11:32:00.001-08:00

I’ve now been in France for a little over a month and I have learned so much in such a short time. My French is definitely improving and I think you can tell that I’ve really been enjoying discovering this city. I’ve included a map in this update so you can see the locations of the Foyer, the Château, the Musée de Beaux-Arts, the Galerie David d’Angers, and the Université Catholique de l’Ouest.
Sometime after school last week I made a trip to the David d’Angers gallery and the oldest house in Angers, the Maison d’Adam (House of Adam). The Maison was constructed around 1500 and it is now a shop that sells really beautiful sculptures, hand-crafted glass and other miscellaneous, pretty things. After stopping there for a bit, I went to the Gallery. The almost-complete collection of Pierre-Jean David was housed within one building, the Abbey Toussaint chapel which dates back to the 12th century and is located right next to the Musée de Beaux-Arts. The collection was comprised of 30 large statue molds, 110 busts, 500 medallions and the front piece of the Paris Pantheon. It was quite magnificent. In case you’re wondering who David d’Angers was, (don’t worry I didn’t have a clue either) he was a contemporary of the famous Jacques-Louis David (hence the “of Angers” attached to his name). David d’Angers worked with bronze and marble to create tableaux, sculptures and busts of important personages like Goethe, LaFayatte, Balzac, Thomas Jefferson, etc. Anyway it’s time for dinner and j’ai la dalle (I’m starving).

Later!

Heidi

Châteaux de la Loire 3: Chambord

2010-02-28T03:10:00.000-08:00

Chambord was our final destination and it was by far the most impressive building I have ever seen. It is 156 meters long (512 ft), 56 meters high (184 ft), and has 426 rooms, 282 chimneys and 77 staircases—over one room for each day of the year—and its park and game reserve are surrounded by France’s longest wall (30 kilometers or 18.5 miles).

Chambord’s exterior and double helix staircase were jaw-droppingly stunning. Some people believe that Leonardo da Vinci is responsible for designing the staircase, though it has never been confirmed. But I have to say the most marvelous feature was the roof. Walking around the roof was like stepping into another city. As you can see from the skyline of the château, the roof really does resemble a small village placed on top of a building.

The interior was also impressive and many of the fireplaces were actually lit. (Thank goodness! It would have been absolutely freezing without those fires because it had just gotten colder on account of the rain.) My favorite room here was the Apartment de Parade. The furnishings were sumptuous and the gold ornamentation emblazoned on the white walls was spectacular.

The carriage rooms displayed five or six different carriages as well as a gargantuan clock that used to be on the façade of the building. There was also a special exhibit on Chambord as a hostage of war from 1939-1945. It was during World War II that art collections from the Louvre and other museums were stored at Chambord.

When I say this castle was incredible, it was. And the most incredible thing is that it was only a hunting lodge. A hunting lodge?! You’ve got to be kidding me. Seriously, this architectural monster was definitely not my idea of a quaint hunting lodge, but then, I’m not King Francis I. In 1519, Francis I decided he wanted something in the Italian Renaissance style and decided to convert Chambord from the medieval fortress it was, into what it is now. He never saw his project completed (and during his 32 year reign, he stayed at Chambord a grand total of 72 days), but his son King Henry II, who was an equally passionate hunter, transformed it into what it is today. I also thought it was neat that the exiled King of Poland, Stanislaus Leszczynski lived here from 1725 to 1733, but that’s mostly because he’s Polish and so am I.

Even though I thought Chambord was the most beautiful architecturally, I have to say that my favorite of the three châteaux was definitely Chenonceau. It would absolutely be my first recommendation to anyone wondering which castle they should visit. My second pick would be Chambord because it was beautiful, but I felt it lacked a soul, if that makes sense. We took a vote on the bus and one person liked Azay-le-Rideau best, about 15 liked Chenonceau and the rest, about 44, liked Chambord.

At this point, it’s possible you may be wondering what I think of the Château d’Angers now that I’ve seen some truly exquisite castles. I can happily tell you that the Château d’Angers still remains one of my favorites. Of course, it was my first castle sighting and I still think it’s beautiful for the raw power its walls suggest. And unlike the other castles, it best served its intended purpose which was to keep invaders out. (I still can’t get over the fact that Chambord was intended to be a hunting lodge.)

These were truly chouettes châteaux.

Heidi

P.S. Chouette means cool, great or neat.

Châteaux de la Loire 2: Chenonceau

2010-02-27T15:22:00.000-08:00

Second on the list was Chenonceau. Chenonceau is definitely the castle I would pick to live in; it was by far the most comfortable and the grounds were the prettiest. It is known as the Châteaux des Dames, or Ladies’ Castle, for all the queens and mistresses who have lived there. Really I’m not being sexist or anything, but I think you can tell that a woman had a hand in its design because it doesn’t dominate the landscape like other castles I’ve seen. Rather, its situation on the Cher River, a tributary of the Loire, creates a harmony between the breathtaking splendor of the castle and its natural surroundings.

Leading up to the castle is a long driveway, with trees on either side of the road. The grounds include two gardens on each side of the château, one designed by Diane de Poitiers, the other by Catherine de Medici, as well as an old 16th century farm, wax museum, labyrinth, caryatides and chapel. Inside, the many rooms house numerous paintings by Reubens, Riguad, Tintoretto, Van Dyck, Van Loo, Veronese, Poussin, hundreds of ancient tapestries and grand furniture. Truly, the interior was unparalleled in beauty.

Each of the rooms are named after its occupants. The most famous of these rooms is the Chamber of Five Queens and its inhabitants were the daughters and grand-daughters of Catherine de Medici: Queen Margaret (wife of Henry IV), Elizabeth of France (wife of Philip II of Spain), Mary Stuart (wife of Francois II), Elizabeth of Austria (wife of Charles IX), and Louise of Lorraine (wife of Henry III).

Another of the rooms was outfitted entirely in black after Louise of Lorraine was widowed. The only disappointment during the entire day was that the façade was being renovated: The château would have been even more remarkable had it not been under construction.

The most fascinating thing about this castle was its history. It was constructed in the 16th century by Thomas Bohier and his wife Katherine Briçonnet. Then, it was given by King Henry II to his mistress, Diane de Poitiers, who was 20 years his senior. However, Henry II was married to Catherine de Medici who was obviously annoyed by her husband’s favoritism because after his death she forced Diane to give her the castle, even though Diane and Catherine are actually descended from the same family.

Gabrielle d’Estrees, mistress of Henry IV, the king who declared “Paris is worth a mass,” was also mistress of Chenonceau. During the Enlightenment, Madame Louise Dupin became its mistress and entertained famous philosophers like Voltaire, Montesquieu, and Rousseau. Madame Dupin also saved the chapel from destruction during the French Revolution by turning it into a wood store and is said to have changed the castle’s name by dropping the royal “x” at the end of “Chenonceaux” to please the local villagers.

During World War I, Chenonceau became a hospital ward and during World War II, it was the divide between Nazi territory and the “free” Vichy zone. In 1988, Prince Charles and Lady Diana stayed here for a time. With that said, I think that Châteaux des Dames is a very fitting title for Chenonceau.

Châteaux de la Loire 1: Azay-le-Rideau

2010-02-27T11:46:00.000-08:00

Today I learned that the Châteaux of the Loire are famous for good reason. And hopefully by the end of this three part blog, you’ll have discovered that too.

Around eight this morning we set off down the longest river in France, the Loire—the scenic route to our three destinations: Azay-le-Rideau, Chenonceau and Chambord. Monsieur Melin was once again our commentator and he pointed out to us the many features of the Loire. We went through Saumur which is home to lots of mushrooms and one of the world’s finest cavalry training centers.

As we continued along, we saw the troglodytes (houses built into the cliffside), the place where Rabelais was born (near Chinon, where in 1429, Joan of Arc convinced the Dauphin to claim his throne. The Royal Fortress of Chinon was also the home of Cardinal Richelieu.) and Balzac’s house. I learned that whenever Balzac wanted peace and quiet away from the hustle and bustle of Paris, he had to take a train to Tours and then walk three hours to get home. I learned that the banks of the Loire, like the tides at Mont St Michel, are very dangerous because of the quicksand. Apparently, when the river bank collapses it forms a whirlpool which sucks the swimmer inside. We were told that in a single afternoon, seventeen children died. Ok, so that isn’t very nice to hear, but it is interesting and it should warn you never to swim in the Loire.

We traversed the roads with some minor difficulties (coach buses were not meant for country roads and narrow French streets). We saw the château de Menars (Madame Pompadour’s favorite castle) and an enormous stone bridge, across from the city La Chaussée de Saint-Victor, which had not been repaired since being bombed during World War I. All total, I saw at least 9 castles: Saumur, Montsoreau, Chinon, Azay-le-Rideau, Artigny, Chenonceau, Cheverny, Chambord, and Menars.

Le Château d’Azay-le-Rideau was first on our list. It was the smallest castle of the day (the only one I could actually walk around) and most of it was inaccessible to the public. It was once a fort, but was turned into a castle in 1510. Unlike Chenonceau and Chambord, it is not a royal residence because it was never owned by the crown, though King Louis XIII once stayed there. Even though we couldn’t see a lot of the castle, my favorite room of the entire day was located at Azay-le-Rideau. It was the billiard and card room and it immediately reminded me of the board game Clue.

Not Quite Singing in the Rain

2010-02-24T15:22:00.000-08:00

Today it was rainy, as it was yesterday; in fact, yesterday it hailed. Anyway, I had socio-cultural studies from 10-12 today and since my art history class at 1:30 was cancelled and I didn’t have class till 5, I went back to the Foyer. At 4:30 I had to return to school and by then it was pouring when it hadn’t been earlier. Somehow I didn’t realized it was raining and I ended up going out without a hood or umbrella (actually I really don’t like umbrellas and don’t own one so that wouldn’t have mattered). But by forgetting a hood, I rediscovered how much I love the feel of rain on my face. I’d forgotten what it felt like—not caring about my disheveled and wet appearance and allowing the weather to have its way with my hair. I found myself smiling up at the sky and then I realized people might be watching so I tucked my smile inside me. That was until I saw a little boy running, hand in hand with his grandmother, towards me down the pavement. He had, clutched between his body and arm, an enormous baguette. And that’s when my smile came out and wouldn’t go away. For a good twenty minutes I smiled the whole rest of the way, not caring what people thought. The rain was just so beautiful; I just couldn’t contain my sense of joy and contentment. It made me think of Singing in the Rain, which is one of my favorite films and oh man did I feel like dancing in the rain, but I restrained myself, barely. I actually saw Adam on my way back and as I’d been smiling foolishly for a while I buoyantly yelled across the street how much I liked the rain. And he shouted back how much he detested it. Needless to say, it was a great day.

The episode with the rain and the little boy reminds me that a couple weeks ago (jeez I can’t believe it’s that long ago already) I was walking down the street and there was a mother with four little girls (I’m going to assume that they weren’t all hers since three of them looked about the same age.) Anyway three of the little girls, who were probably about five years old, would run on ahead of me, hide behind a niche in the wall or a doorway and then giggle and pop out when their mother came by. By then I would have passed them, but as soon as they popped out they’d come running past me again and do the same thing all over again. I can’t even recall how many times they did this before our paths diverged. But it made me smile. I love little kids and their infinite ability to take pleasure in the simplest things. And I love that they act the same in both the US and France.

The rain also brings to mind a certain event that I always associate with rain and clouds and sunshine. One of the most beautiful things in the entire world happens when there are clouds in the sky and you look toward the sun and suddenly the sky opens up and you can just see the rays of golden light pouring from the heavens. The French have a word for this: éclaircie. I think this is one of the most beautiful French words I know. French is already a very pretty language, but this word in particular strikes me as beautiful, which is fitting since its meaning is so beautiful. As a side note, this is also a feminine word and WordReferenc.com translates it as “sunny spell,” but it is really much more than that.

Since this entry has turned into a meteorological report, I might as well mention that you can really see the stars here. Not that you can’t in Irvine or North Andover, but the smog blocks a lot of the light and there’s a lot less smog here. And there aren’t quite as many street lights to interfere with celestial light. I have to say I prefer the night skies over here.

Good night! Or good morning! Wherever you are…
Heidi

Musée de Beaux-Arts, or Museum of Beautiful Art

2010-02-23T11:35:00.000-08:00

On Sunday, Adam, Sarah and I visited the Musée de Beaux-Arts which is located across the street from the castle. I really didn’t know what to expect from this museum because the only thing I’d heard about it was that there was a special exhibit called, “The faces of Rodin.” The museum was really quite wonderful and its collection was a lot larger than I expected. The building itself is from the 16th century though it has undergone renovations and paintings since then.

The first piece of art was a statue in front of the museum; it clearly told me that this museum would be a treat. I couldn’t find a name (or rather, I didn’t bother to look for a name) so I’ve dubbed it “The Friendly Hydra.” As you can see, it’s very colorful; it immediately brightens one’s day. However, it definitely evokes the mythical with either the hydra or Medusa. A strange conglomerate of evil and colorful goodness, but that’s art for you.

The unique thing about this museum was that it featured contemporary art alongside older pieces. I’d never seen any other museums do that. For example, if there were twenty Dutch 18th century paintings in a room there would also be one contemporary piece. I thought this was a great way to showcase new pieces as well as old ones.

The Rodin exhibit was nice, but it also wasn’t what I expected. Rodin is the renowned sculptor of “The Thinker,” “The Kiss,” and “the Burghers of Calais” so I’d kind of expected some larger statues. Instead it was mostly busts of his contemporaries: Balzac, Georges Clemenceau, George Bernard Shaw, etc. The cool thing was that we got to see the process behind his artwork. Like the exhibit had many bronze busts, but it also had the plaster molds along with his sketches and drawings.

I have to say that my favorite room was the first room I visited. It contained primarily local artifacts from the 1st and 2nd centuries all the way up till the Renaissance. There were also some representations of Angers from the Middle Ages. Seriously, the history of this area is awesome--in every sense of the word.

Later alligator!

Heidi

First Painting: Jan Hackaert, 16c, Paysage boise avec un chemin et une vue sur une riviere

Second paiting: Representation of Angers

Third Painting: Anonymous Flemish painter, 15c, Femme agenouillee

Keys from Angers

Birds carved in high relief

The Musee de Beaux-Arts garden

Fourth Painting: Michael Corneille, 17c, La Vierge et l'Enfant Jesus et Saint Jean-Baptiste

Gerbais Delabarre, 1607-1613, Statue orante de Donadieu de Puycharic

Saint-Malo and Mont Saint-Michel 2

2010-02-20T13:24:00.000-08:00

Mont Saint-Michel is visually stunning. From a distance it looks like it could be an Egyptian pyramid. But up close you can see the intricate architecture of this 8th century monastery. It reminds me of Minas Tirith, the capitol of Gondor in the Lord of the Rings and it’s no wonder they resemble each other since the director Peter Jackson was inspired by Mont St Michel. We passed through the walls of the city and wound our way up to the monastery which is at the very top of the mount. The walkway is similar to a labyrinth like alley way. It is very narrow and crowded with restaurants, gift shops and bakeries on all sides. We had to ignore the tempting smells and sights that assailed us as we climbed to the top to see La Merveille (or marvel, as the monastery is known).

The view from the monastery is magnificent. During the highest tides the island is surrounded by the sea and occasionally the parking lots are submerged, though never the causeway. When I was there the tide was low and the vast majority of what I saw was sand with rivulets of water. I couldn’t believe how far the sand stretched before I could see the ocean. The sand is unlike any I’d ever seen before. It was grayish in color and felt like clay. It wasn’t grainy and it stuck to my fingers and shoes.

The monastery itself is a work of art, from the nooks, crannies, buttresses, columns and spire on the outside to the gardens, staircases, massive fireplaces, colonnades, and stained glass windows on the inside. Even with all the tourists one can clearly tell it is very sacred place. I tried to imagine living at the monastery. It would have been freezing, even with the six foot tall fireplaces. Moreover, I know it would have taken me years before I knew my way around; there were that many different doors and passageways.

Well that pretty much sums up my day. It was quite extraordinary and my only mementos are my memories and nearly 260 pictures. (Overkill I know, but it might be the only time I ever see the place.)

Au revoir!
Heidi

Click on these links for more information on:
Saint-Malo: http://www.ville-saint-malo.fr/decouvrir/en/index.html
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Saint-Malo

Mont Saint-Michel: “The highest tides in continental Europe take place at Mont-Saint-Michel, up to 15 metres difference between low and high water. During top of the spring tides, the sea goes out 15 kilometres from the coast and comes in again very quickly.” http://www.ot-montsaintmichel.com/horaires_gb.htm
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mont-Saint-Michel

CIDEF: http://www.uco.fr/61803865/0/fiche___pagelibre/

Minas Tirith: “According to the "Making Of" featurettes on the Extended Edition DVDs, the appearance and structure of the city was based upon Mont Saint-Michel, France.”Click on the link and scroll down to see a picture. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Minas_Tirith

SCO Angers Football Club: It’s been around since 1919--pretty impressive. http://www.angers-sco.fr/accueil.php

Kouign Amann: In Breton, it literally means Cake Butter. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kouign_amann

Saint-Malo and Mont Saint-Michel 1

2010-02-20T12:15:00.000-08:00

I just got back from a day trip to the walled port city of Saint-Malo in Brittany and the terraced monastery of Mont Saint-Michel in Normandy and let me tell you, these places were incredible! But just so you know, I’m going to divide them into two separate blogs. This one will focus on Saint-Malo.

I woke up at 6:30, threw a baguette in the oven, ate it with nutella, walked to school and boarded the bus. Our bus was the coolest of the three buses. Not only was it the SCO Angers Football team’s (SCO stands for Sporting Club de L’Ouest), but we had Mark Melin, the director of the CIDEF program commenting for us. (CIDEF is the program I’m in and it stands for Centre International D’Etudes Francaises.) I quickly fell asleep for the three hour ride to our first stop at Saint Malo, but not before hearing that the weather forecast for the area was pouring rain. I rarely check the weather forecast so I just prayed everyone would be wrong. My prayers were answered because when we arrived around 10:30 we stepped off the bus into blaring sunlight. But the sun was very deceiving as it was still about 8 degrees Celsius or 46 Fahrenheit (thank you Mom for the wonderful red gloves you gave me!). We had until 1:30 to explore the area so my friend Liz and I headed straight for the Museum of History, which is conveniently located within the St Malo chateau.

The museum focuses on the maritime history of St Malo which is fascinating! St Malo earned notoriety for being the home of corsairs, privateers and pirates. It was also the home of Jacques Cartier, the explorer credited with discovering Canada and the romantic writer Chateaubriand. There were models of ships, various maritime instruments, and artistic representations of people and places in St Malo. After climbing about five stories worth of spiral stairs, Liz and I found our way to the top of the watch tower where you could see the harbor on one side, the Atlantic on another and the city in between. The battlements are extensive and surround the entire city. From our vantage point, we could see the cathedral, chateau and various hotels, brasseries, and creperies. (Brasserie is French for brewery, but really it’s more like a coffee shop where you can get drinks and sandwiches.)

After exploring the castle we went in search of a restaurant to eat at. This was not an easy task as gazillions of creperies, brasseries and seafood houses line the walls of the city. (While searching I munched on a Breton pastry called kouign amann, a sugary-buttery-flakey piece of goodness that melts in one’s mouth.) There was one restaurant right after another, and on both sides of the street too, so we zig-zagged from place to place looking for the best deals. We finally found “Grand-mere Augustine’s,” a restaurant that appealed to our taste buds and our wallets. Liz and I both ordered mussels and fries with cidre and a sugar crepe for eleven euro. By then, our time was up in St Malo so we headed back to Port Saint Vincent to board the bus.

While we drove along the coast in order to get to Mont Saint-Michel, I was able to see the beautiful countryside with its little farmhouses and miniature moulins (windmills). I didn’t realize, but people actually live in these ivy covered windmills, many of which had lost their sails and so more closely resembled tiny towers. At this stage of our journey Monsieur Melin began his commentary. He told us that the regions of Bretagne and Normandy are famous for their huitres (oysters), moules (mussels), chou (cabbages), cidre and galettes. He also pointed out the strange, wheeled bateaux (boats) that the fishermen use in order to traverse the miles of sand. The tides in this area are truly phenomenal; within the course of an hour the tides change from high to low covering a distance of up to 15 kilometers. Victor Hugo described them as able to change "à la vitesse d'un cheval au galop" or "as swiftly as a galloping horse." After an hour drive, we came upon Mont Saint-Michel.

A Year in Provence

2010-02-17T15:17:00.000-08:00

Yesterday in Sociocultural Studies we discussed an excerpt from Peter Mayle’s book, A Year in Provence (actually it was an excerpt from Une Anneé en Provence but no matter). Peter Mayle had written about his difficulty with the different French greetings that vary region to region. In particular he was struck by the different ways one could greet each other with the “faire la bise,” or kiss on the cheek. (This is not to be confused with “faire un bisou,” which is much more familiar and intimate; therefore, it is only used within one’s family. And "faire la bise" is not actually a kiss on the cheek, but a kiss to the air while your cheeks touch, but I digress.) Mayle wrote that this greeting was confusing to him because in some regions the women would give two kisses, while in others the women would give three kisses. Our teacher was thoroughly amused by this and acted out the action of going in for a third kiss when only two were required. As you can imagine, it looked terribly awkward and embarrassing.

I bring up the matter of “faire la bise” because I’m mostly unfamiliar with it. In the States I’ve only ever used this greeting with my French professor and occasionally my Polish relatives. My first encounter with this greeting in France was rather funny, in my opinion. I was sitting with some friends in a booth when this Frenchman comes up and proceeds to give everyone, including me who he’s never met before in his entire life, “faire la bise.” I really had no idea that men did the double air kiss thing until that moment (fyi The Maine and Loire Region is a double, not triple, kiss region). I learned afterwards that he is one of the local bartenders and that he speaks English with a very heavy Irish accent because he learned English in Ireland. I find this hilarious since he sounds more Irish than one of my friends from Ireland.

Since then I’ve become better accustomed to the “faire la bise” though still not completely comfortable with it. It’s much more affectionate than a handshake and because of that, I still find it very awkward. The French girls use it all the time, but then again, they’ve grown up with it. I’ve decided that when I finish my adventure in France, I must read A Year in Provence.

Bisous!

Heidi

La Vie en Rose

2010-02-13T12:02:00.000-08:00

Well, it’s Valentine’s Day tomorrow so I figured the title was appropriate and besides “La Vie en Rose” is one of my favorite songs. (The Édith Piaf and Louis Armstrong versions are the best in my opinion.) I’m going to find the original by Édith Piaf and play it over and over again while eating the red and white heart shaped chocolates I bought at one of the many chocolatiers in Angers. Rather expensive, but eminently worth it.http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MZ32WWXHyjg

Classes started this week and wow was it a long week. On Monday I was at school for eight hours! It never occurred to me I’d be in class for that length of time. Amazingly I wasn’t bored at all, probably because I had to concentrate really hard in order to understand what the professors were saying. Thankfully, I don’t have to be in class that long every day, but I’ll still be going to class 18 hours a week. (This will be very different from Merrimack, as I was accustomed to having 9-12 hours of class a week, but not at all a bad thing.) I really like the classes I’m taking and the professors are wonderful and speak slowly so that everyone can understand. This week was a shopping week so we could attend (or not attend) any class to find out whether we wanted to take it or not. Because I tested into a decently high level I only have to take 6 hours of Language (Grammar, written and oral comprehension and expression, etc.) a week, leaving room for more cultural classes. Therefore, I’ve decided to take Art History (18th to 20th Century French Painting); Sociocultural Studies (French population, gender studies, discrimination, education, immigration, etc.); Translation (English to French) and Twentieth-Century Literature (Proust, Apollinaire, Ionesco, etc.). Everything is in French, of course, but I think my comprehension is already improving. I wish I could say as much for my speaking skills, which are abysmal.

My youngest sister Emma told me after my last post that she was mad I’d included Sarah in my blog, but not her. This made me realize that I’d failed to properly introduce myself. I’m originally from Southern California, but study History, French and English at Merrimack. I’m also on the volleyball team and am involved in Intramural Ice Hockey, Ultimate Frisbee, the Writing Center and Renew. I have three younger sisters: Emma is a freshman in high school, Laurel is a junior and Sarah is a freshman at Auburn. All of them play volleyball at their respective schools and we are all very close to each other. My dad is a high school physics teacher and cross-country and track coach while my mom is a middle school counselor. It probably won’t surprise you that I intend to go into education as a high school history teacher and volleyball coach. But who knows.

Happy Valentine’s Day, happy Chinese New Year and happy Winter Olympics!
Heidi

P.S. La Vie en Rose literally means “Life in Pink” but connotes “life through rose-colored glasses” (aka the haze of love). It really is a beautiful song, it’s in many, many films and I would highly recommend reading the English translation.

I Capture the Castle

2010-02-07T09:37:00.000-08:00

All museums in France are free on the first Sunday of every month so I went to the Angers Castle today with Sachiko and Moe. We wandered around the battlements, looked through the arrow loops into the street, saw the elevated garden and the royal residence with its magnificent gatehouse. On the wall of the gatehouse is the family tree of King Rene. Last year was the 600th anniversary of King Rene’s birth and currently parts of the castle are being renovated in celebration of last year’s event.

After passing through the gatehouse, we made our way to the book store and then to the main exhibit which, other than the castle itself, is the Apocalypse Tapestry. (http://fr.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tapisserie_de_l%27Apocalypse) It was commissioned by Louis I, Duke of Anjou and brother of King Charles V, in 1375 and it was completed in 1382. For such a large work, (the tapestry is 100m long and 4.5m high, so lengthwise the size of an Olympic swimming pool) seven years is remarkably quick. It is the oldest tapestry of its size in existence today and it depicts scenes from Revelation. The craftsmanship is quite amazing and the scenes are beautifully done, though you can easily see that the tapestry has aged considerably. My personal favorite is the depiction of the dragon. We had to leave after that so I didn’t get a chance to check out the chapel or restaurant, but I can always visit later.

As for the castle’s history… The fortress was first built in the 13th century by regent Blanche of Castile, but it had been a look out post earlier (9th century) under the Anjou Plantagenets and the Romans before that. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ch%C3%A2teau_d) However, humans have been living at this site ever since the Neolithic period (4000 to 2500 B.C.). I’m sorry, but this information is just mind boggling to me. Before today, the oldest buildings I’d ever been in were four hundred years old. This particular castle has been around some 800 years!
And people have been living here far longer than that! Words wouldn’t do the castle justice so I just took lots of pictures.

Heidi

P.S. Favorite new French word is Le Pamplemousse (pronounced pomp-lay-moose), it means grapefruit.

Things I've Noticed

2010-02-05T07:23:00.000-08:00

1. Paper is really expensive. For example, a notebook at Target is 0.79USD while a notebook here is €4 which translates to 5.50 USD.

2. I haven’t seen one printer since coming here. Lots of photocopiers, but no printers...hopefully my professors will be able to read my writing.

3. You have to pay for everything…like the public restrooms and shopping carts at the supermarket.

4. Older French ladies who work at the Pharmacy don’t like it when your French is sub-par.

5. There are Boulangerie and Patisseries (bakery and pastry shops) EVERYWHERE. They are the Starbucks or Dunkin Donuts of France, except there’s about five per street as opposed to one per street. And it is even more difficult to pass one by without buying anything because the smell of chocolate croissants is just so overwhelming.

6. While there are no Starbucks or Dunkin Donuts, there is a Domino’s pizza, Century 21, H & M, Sephora and Subway. By the way, went to Domino's and it is totally different from back home. It is a lot better, even though there are some pretty strange toppings...like salmon, potatoes and dill.

7. Everything is closed on Sundays and apparently Mondays too (ok not everything, but almost).

Those are just some of my observations for now, I'm sure I'll discover many more things that intrigue me as time goes on.

Oh before I forget, last night we had an amazing dinner. The Madame of the Foyer is from Bretagne (aka Brittany, northern France) so we had a Breton dinner. This consisted of two types of galettes: one ham and cheese, the other sausages, onions and mushrooms. Galettes are very similar to crepes except they are for dinner and the crepe part is browner and less sweet. This was served with the famous Breton cider. (Brittany is the second largest producer of cider in France. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Brittany) Madame played some Breton music (basically sounds Celtic) and she and another girl started dancing around the long wooden tables in the traditional style. This style of dancing looks something like a jig and you link pinkies with the person next to you and just kinda dance around. Moe, Saichiko and I participated too. After the dancing we ate apple crepes. (In my opinion, chocolate are better, but hey I'm not complaining.)
A tout a l'heure!
Heidi

Et toi, _____?

2010-02-03T08:28:00.000-08:00

I woke up at 5:30am on Monday, flew to Philly at 8:30am, exchanged currency, waited 5 hours for the next flight at 9:00pm (during which Adam Godfrey, another junior at Merrimack, joined me) and finally arrived at the Charles de Gaulle airport in Paris at 10:30am on Tuesday. Exhausting? Oui, yes, absolutely, but totally and completely worth it.

After collecting our luggage, Adam and I found our way to La Gare (or Train Station). We got our 12/25 cards (which gives anyone between the ages of 12 and 25 a 25-60% discount on rail fare in France and parts of Europe) and bought our train ticket to Angers (pronounced On-jay) for 27,50 euro (approximately 40USD). After about two hours on the train (during which I fell asleep), we arrived in Angers and then navigated our way to first my dorm and then his. The Foyer is three blocks from Le Chateau d'Angers (the Angers Castle) and I feel so lucky that I get to walk by it everyday to go to school. This is the first castle I have ever seen and while it may not be the grandest or most beautiful, it is truly spectacular and I can't wait to explore it. The chateau is complete with drawbridges, flags, arrow loops and moat; the latter has been transformed into a garden.

Last night dinner was baked potatoes with a creamy mushroom sauce and a meatball (just one, don’t ask why, I have no clue). I thoroughly enjoyed the food, but maybe this was because I was famished or because I’m really not picky and like trying new food. At any rate, I paid better attention to what I was eating at breakfast and I can tell you that everyone was right when they said French croissants are the best. They are. And the baguettes with jam are really good too.

The girls in the Foyer are really nice, but it’s really hard to not speak English. Sarah is from England, Moe (pronounced Mo-ay) and Sachiako are from Japan, Gaelle is from France and another, I think its Francesca, is from Germany. It looks as though I’m the only American, but I’m not positive. All of them speak far better French than me. I have never spoken this much French in my entire life. And by speak I mean bumble along with my extremely broken French. Seriously, I was trying to talk to Moe this morning and said "Le chapeau est tres beau" instead of "Le chateau est tres beau." Le chapeau is a hat. Yeahhh, I definitely felt like an idiot. But I’m good at laughing at myself and besides, if I don’t make a fool out of myself by trying I’ll never learn anything. Still, it’s really hard trying to find the right words to say and often I resort to easier phrases to help me limp along.

My favorite phrase has quickly become “Et toi?” It simply means “And you?” and it is far easier than trying to phrase my own question. And not to get off topic, but it reminds me of Shakespeare's play Julius Caesar. (Et tu, Bruté? Et toi, Bruté?) Here’s how most of my conversations went:
Good French Speaker (GFS): “Bonjour Heidi! Comment ça va?”

Heidi: “Ça va bien, merci. Et toi?”

GFS: “Bien, bien. Quel âge as-tu?”
Heidi: “Vingt ans. Et toi?”
GFS: “Vingt ans aussi. Où habite-tu?”
Heidi: “Californie. Et toi?” …
As you can see, my conversation was really thrilling.

Moe has already become one of my good friends here. Moe, Adam and I walked around La Centre Ville (the center of Angers) after we took the placement test this morning (don't want to talk about it, it was really hard). We all bought the same Orange phone (Orange is the store, nothing to do with the color) and then went into Saturn (the French version of Best Buy) where I got a straightener and adapter/converter. Buying the adapter was important because I discovered the one I bought in the US didn’t fit the socket here (apparently I was supposed to buy some other component, oh well). But I now have my computer all set up and all’s well that ends well.

I went to bed at 8:30 last night (in California time that would be 11:30 in the morning which is unreal) and will probably end up doing the same thing again (still jet lagged, I’m afraid). FYI, I can only use the internet from 7am to 12pm so that's 10pm to 3pm West Coast time and 1pm to 6pm East Coast time (sorry Sarah, you’ll have to calculate what that is for Alabama).

Bonne nuit for now!
Heidi

P.S. My dad read my last post and wants to reassure everyone that he has plenty of other equally useful skills that Liam Neeson doesn’t have and a list of contacts who can rescue me if I needed saving. Haha, thanks dad!

Taken

2010-02-02T12:29:00.001-08:00

So in preparation for my upcoming trip, my sister Sarah decided I needed to watch Taken. (For those of you who haven't seen Taken, it’s about an ex-spy who tracks down his daughter who has been kidnapped by human traffickers while in Paris. IMDB - Taken) I wasn't sure if I should see it since I didn't want to be afraid of going, but as it turns out the movie was awesome and now I’m only slightly concerned that my dad doesn't have the "very particular set of skills" that Liam Neeson has.

At any rate, in exactly one week I will be taken to Paris, but taken in the sense that I have always dreamed of going to Europe. I read wayyy too much for my own good so to me the word Europe is magical. Ok so I realize I probably have a rather romanticized notion of Europe, but I am a history major and I really am excited to see everything I’ve studied in person. It’s incredibly surreal that in less than a week I’ll be able to see Europe for myself, and not through the eyes of a character, narrator, author or editor.

But back to practical matters…I'm not even close to being ready to leave and panic is beginning to set in. Packing is going to be such an ordeal, but gollyy I’m so excited to be going. Anyway, I just got back from visiting friends at Merrimack and while I’ll miss them all terribly, I know that a new adventure awaits.

Wish me luck! Or as the French say, "bon voyage!"

Heidi