La Vie en France

I'm back...with bear stories!

2009-06-21T11:13:00.000-07:00

I know...I know. I'm a wretched human being who is unable to keep others updated about her life and probably doesn't deserve to have a blog. But in my defense...I've been working (and playing) hard. But who wants to write a blog entry when you're living in Skagway and someone says that there's an impromptu game of four square outside of the church? Or there's volleyball and basketball happening in the rec center? Or there's miles of amazing hiking just outside of town? My point exactly. All that to say, I've been keeping myself pretty occupied. I've wanted to share stories but I never seem to find the time. So, I'm going to recount now, for your reading pleasure, one of my more recent stories. Let's call it...Lauren and the Terrifying, Exhausting, Disastrous, Bear-filled Day at Dyea.

So...yesterday was my first day being stationed out at Dyea by myself. Dyea is a ghost town that once rivalled Skagway during the Gold Rush but is now a bear infested patch of woods with ruins of old buildings scattered throughout. It is my job to spend all day out here and lead two walking tours through the townsite and rove throughout the rest of the townsite in the meantime. Well, I've been pretty nervous about the bears. But everyone had been reassuring me that although there was bear skat all throughout the townsite, nobody had seen a bear in a good two weeks time. I guess I'm lucky. I had only been in the townsite for approximately 20 minutes. I was taking pictures of some wildflowers. I made contact with my first visitor who decided to go on my walking tour. In the time that it took for him to go back to his motorcycle and come back, I met a bear. I was reading one of the interpretive signs in a clearing with a small patch of woods behind me that lay between the road and the clearing. I felt safe as the slough was in front of me and I figured the woods behind me were too scarce to hide any bears. Well, I heard a tremendous crash directly behind and instantly knew it was a bear. I whirled around, fumbling for the bear spray on my belt and managed to whip it out just in time to see a bear crashing through the woods towards me, about twenty to thirty feet away. The bear must have been startled by something on the road because I don't think it initially saw me. I must have surprised it as it directly went galumphing off in the other direction upon seeing a human in the clearing. But that didn't stop me from dying inside as I imagined in quick succession a million deaths. My hand was shaking as I walked back out to the parked cars to where the visitor was. What surprised me was how calmly I was able to talk. I really didn't want to lead the walking tour having just watched the bear run in the direction of the town, but what choice did I have? I now had 5 visitors. Well, we proceeded boldly along, my hand constantly wandering to the bear spray at my side.

We had gotten about half-way through the tour and although I was still somewhat high strung, I began to relax a little. I genuinely enjoyed conversing with my group and it was almost as though we were having a pleasant stroll through the woods. But it was not to be. While pointing out some color changing lichen, I heard the unmistakable snap of a branch by a creature that was too large to be a squirrel or a bird. I spotted a little bit of movement and then I informed my group that there was a bear a mere 40 feet away. Well, they did remarkably well and they calmly talked in loud voices to let the bear...or should I say bears, for there were two...to let the bears know that we were there. We started to back track and the bears fled from before us...right in the direction we were going to go. Well, we got out of there (one woman was upset we weren't able to stay so she could take a picture of the lichen...but color changing lichen is much less important than being in proximity to a bear if you ask me). We decided we would approach the false front (the only remaining structure in Dyea) from the opposite direction and hope that the two bears had left. We met up with a cycling group and we then proceeded in a group of 20 or so to the false front. On route, I saw the two bears again. They ran away from the false front. We then reached the road leading up to the false front and the two bears came crashing through one last time. The leader stopped in the middle of the road and gazed fully upon us before running off again with her friend in pursuit. Needless to say, I was somewhat on edge all morning. And I was unreasonably angry with Steve, our Law Enforcement ranger, for not being in Dyea when there were bears all around on my first day. He doesn't deserve my wrath, but that didn't stop me from thinking that he did at the time.

Well, turns out I couldn't have called for help if I had wanted to...because radio technicians had basically cut all radio traffic as they were working on improving the signal. Great. Bears running loose in Dyea. Me. All alone. Radio. Dead. And this was how I found out. Apparently a stump out on the tidal flats was on fire, but they had poured sand and water on it. It was still smoking and I tried to call it in to Steve...but no answer. So, I drove back to the ranger station, had to call Steve on his cell phone at which point he said he would call the fire department and come out and have a look. They finally came out, but by then it was time for me to drive back to Skagway. They were still on the flats when I left but my attitude by that time was good bye and good riddance. See you in two weeks, bear friends. I unashamedly sing and talk to myself as I rove in Dyea to keep the bears at bay. No bear, my hat. I saw 3 bears in my very first hour in Dyea. What are the odds of that? I went home, had Dorritos, Dr. Pepper, and leftover chili for dinner and read Confederates in the Attic. Thus ended my day in Dyea. Until next time!...whenever that may be...

La vie en...ALASKA!!!

2009-05-05T00:18:00.000-07:00

So...I realize that this is my french blog...but I don't really want to change the address and everything now that I'm in Alaska. So...it looks like I'll be continuing my blog.

So...Alaska. It's gorgeous! I haven't had a chance to take pictures yet, but I will soon. I'm finally feeling not sick. I've been pretty desperately ill for the last week or so...and I didn't have enough time to go the doctor, so its nice to be able to start to taste and smell things again. I'm still coughing and don't really have a voice...but at least I'm not achy and I don't want to crawl into bed all the time. Disneyland was fun...but we were all kind of sick...especially me, so it could have been more fun. I beat Sarah on the buzz lightyear ride...yes! But my plane rides were without incident. On the way from LAX to Seattle, I was seated next to a decently cute guy, and since it was a red eye flight, pretty much the whole plane was asleep. I awoke from a small snooze to find cute guy completely asleep and starting to lean in my direction. I found it kind of amusing and so I left him like that until he was almost sleeping on my shoulder. But then I had to go and cough and he woke up with a jerk and awkward situation ensued where I pretended I was asleep and was unaware that he was snoozing in my vicinity. I slept the whole flight from Seattle to Juneau, so the whole process passed rather quickly. We arrived in Juneau to wind and rain and I feared that my small plane would not be able to fly out in inclement weather. Well, inclement weather means something different in Alaska than it does in California. So...I got in a tiny plane that seated 8 passengers and we struck out for Skagway. What can I say? The flight was breathtakingly beautiful. There is snow in Juneau still and we flew up the inside passage inbetween enormous snowcapped mountains and glaciers to the tiny town of Skagway, located in a fjord. The flight was somewhat bumpy, and the bottom swooped out from us a few times, but if you treated it as a rollercoaster, it was fine. To land in Skagway, you fly over the town and make a sharp curve banking far to the right just next to the mountains to approach the landing strip from inland. If heights and rollercoasters frighten you...small planes are not for you.
Skagway...now that I can finally smell again, the scent is intoxicating. The mountains rise straight to the heavens and are still capped with snow. The biggest mountain facing us is known by the locals as witch mountain. The majority of the buildings are restored and all of the sidewalks are boardwalks. I'm living in a restored historic house (the Peniel Mission) with the Moore cabin and house practically in my backyard (The absolute first structures in Skagway before the stampeders arrived...to a history nerd like me, this is tantamount to awesome). I asked today if the tap water was good and was met with incredulous stares. Apparently, the water comes straight from the glaciers surrounding Skagway...this is where bottled water companies should set up headquarters. I had my first day of training today. It was definite information overload, but hopefully, I'll be getting the hang of this soon. I'm very excited to start my official duties once I finally get it all figured out. There are so many different duties I'll be doing...so different from Cabrillo. I'll give official tours around town, staff the visitor center, staff the moore house (with the original piano that composed the state song for Alaska...that I'm allowed to play!), spend a day out in Dyea (chances of bear sightings are good), do living history, and help with research (yay!). Pretty much to sum it up....I'm stoked. And a fellow ranger invited me over to watch the laker's game tonight. They lost. Boo. But cool that I got invited over and seem to be making friends. Anyhoo, I'm attending a seminar on the Tlingit (pronounced Klinkit) tomorrow and then we are headed up to the white pass with the historian. Should prove another interesting day. Talk to you all soon!

Boite de Nuit!!! ...aka...nightclub

2009-04-19T08:36:00.000-07:00

I woke up at 2:30 this afternoon. I think it was merited seeing as how I didn't go to sleep until 5:30 in the morning. But it was soooo worth it! I went to a nightclub for the first time in my life last night and it was a blast! Last night, we started the evening off at my apartment, with pizza and various autre choses. By we, I mean Melany, Roselyne, Gladys, Jordan, and Jeremy. The girls showed up first and we had a fun time getting dressed up and taking pictures (when you go to a club in France...it's serious business...jeans and tennis shoes are absolutely not allowed). The boys showed up later and we made a party of it until around midnight or so when Gladys' mom came to pick us up to drive us to the club. She is a saint, that woman. I can't think of many mothers who would volunteer to drive a bunch of intoxicated adolescents 40 minutes to a club and then come pick them up at 4 in the morning...especially, when Gladys and family are leaving for Morocco today for vacation. But I digress...anyhoo, we got to the club and you could feel the music from outside the building...which means that you can probably guess the how loud it was inside the club. Melany got carded at the entrance (she always does...she has a baby face)and we met up with Benoit. We then all trooped in along with all the French people who came to Saintes especially for this nightclub...which has the reputation of being one of the best in the Charente-Maritime.

On first walking in, I was impressed. The biggest dance floor is techno themed. There are platforms for dancing on, cages for dancing in, and even a rotating floor that when paired with strobe lights makes you feel like you're dancing even when you're standing still. The boys were reluctant at first, so Melany and I started dancing on the rotating platform thingy with about a million other people. You can feel the music and when everyone is dancing all around you, you can't help but dance. It's great! After dancing a little bit, we took a tour of the club...there are different rooms and they are all differently themed. There was a room dedicated to rap and hip-hop and a room for disco hits and 80's music. There were a ton of old people in the latter room. We didn't dance in there at all. There was also the "VIP club"...which was upstairs and was more posh. Anyhoo, the dj announced that he was going to be giving out free drinks which got everyone super riled up and all of a sudden I found myself dancing with the group right in front of the dj. Along with the music and the strobe lights they also pump in fog...which when paired with strobe lights is surreal. But it was great! And then...I don't know how this happened...but the dj pointed at me and called me forward to give me a free drink voucher. Wow. I guess I don't suck at dancing. But don't worry...I only had a coke. After dancing for a while, we decided to go outside for a few minutes to breathe...but in reality, the only "outside" that you can access without leaving the club is the smoker's area...so I wasn't really given the opportunity to breathe. But oh man...that many bodies packed in like so many sardines in a tin is a recipe for sweat.

I won't bore you all with more details about how we danced all night long, but I will leave you with this one anecdote. Towards the end of the night, we were sitting in a booth waiting for Jordan to show up again so that we could leave (Jordan has a few million friends. He was flitting between groups all night long.), when a French guy approached me and asked me if I'd like to dance. Welp, it was a slow song and not knowing him at all, I politely declined. He was persistent. I again declined. He then asked why. Why oh why should I have to justify my refusal?!? Why do boys always have to ask why? Just as I was racking my brains for an excuse, Jordan shows up out of nowhere, grabs my hand and pulls me over to the couch next to him saying somthing to the effect of, "Ma cherie! There you are!". So...thank you Jordan for saving my life. I do not condone being intoxicated, but when Jordan is drunk, he is flippin' hilarious. He waxes witty...then starts singing songs...and then starts mumbling to himself...and then has incredible bursts of energy. Dancing with a drunk Jordan is super fun. I no longer have a voice from trying to make myself heard last night...and my ears were ringing as I tried to fall asleep...and my feet were sore from dancing. But given the opportunity to go clubbing again? I would probably say I'd love to.

She'll be coming round the mountain when she comes....

2009-04-15T03:29:00.000-07:00

Hello all! I know its been ages since I've updated my blog, but nothing super exciting has happened that has merited a blog. Or maybe, life in France has ceased to be novel and is just life. But in any case, I love it here! But on to the point of this blog...I'll be home in one week! I can't believe it! After living in this wonderful town for 7 months, I can't believe I'm leaving! BBMB threw a goodbye party for me last weekend...soo much fun! We danced all night long...I love to dance! But nobody at home likes to dance with me (ahem! Get your acts together...we're going dancing). But anyhoo, tonight will be my last basketball practice. Things really are wrapping up here. Friday night I'll have a goodbye dinner with Sylvain and friends and afterwards, I'll watch my last guys game. Then Saturday, time to start cleaning...bleh. But Saturday night...we are going dancing! It will be my first time in a "boite de nuit" (nightclub)and i must admit I'm somewhat nervous. After Saturday, it will be a quick 3 days of cleaning and packing up and then "I'm leaving on a jet plane...don't know when I'll be back again" (hopefully next year...I'd love to return for a second year). I'll pass a night in Dublin and then from Dublin, a quick stop in Boston for customs and then I'll be arriving in San Diego, greeted by my sister and a burrito. I'll only be home for a week or so, but I'm sure that I'll get a chance to say hello to you all! Here's to one week left!

Hamlet...Facebook Style

2009-03-23T04:04:00.001-07:00

HAMLET
(FACEBOOK NEWS
FEED EDITION).
BY SARAH SCHMELLING
- - - -
Horatio thinks he saw a ghost.
Hamlet thinks it's annoying when your uncle marries your mother right after your dad dies.
The king thinks Hamlet's annoying.
Laertes thinks Ophelia can do better.
Hamlet's father is now a zombie.
- - - -
The king poked the queen.
The queen poked the king back.
Hamlet and the queen are no longer friends.
Marcellus is pretty sure something's rotten around here.
Hamlet became a fan of daggers.
- - - -
Polonius says Hamlet's crazy ... crazy in love!
Rosencrantz, Guildenstern, and Hamlet are now friends.
Hamlet wonders if he should continue to exist. Or not.
Hamlet thinks Ophelia might be happier in a convent.
Ophelia removed "moody princes" from her interests.
Hamlet posted an event: A Play That's Totally Fictional and In No Way About My Family
The king commented on Hamlet's play: "What is wrong with you?"
Polonius thinks this curtain looks like a good thing to hide behind.
Polonius is no longer online.
- - - -
Hamlet added England to the Places I've Been application.
The queen is worried about Ophelia.
Ophelia loves flowers. Flowers flowers flowers flowers flowers. Oh, look, a river.
Ophelia joined the group Maidens Who Don't Float.
Laertes wonders what the hell happened while he was gone.
- - - -
The king sent Hamlet a goblet of wine.
The queen likes wine!
The king likes ... oh crap.
The queen, the king, Laertes, and Hamlet are now zombies.
Horatio says well that was tragic.
Fortinbras, Prince of Norway, says yes, tragic. We'll take it from here.
Denmark is now Norwegian.

I HAVE A JOB!!!

2009-03-02T10:36:00.000-08:00

A totally awesome God-thing just happened to me. I was sitting around waiting for a phone call from Jeanne Roy, the hiring lady at Katmai (the bear park) when about 30 minutes before the expected call, I received a call from Bruce Dansby, the hiring guy at Klondike (my first choice...I've already been rejected). Welp, he called to tell me that somebody was backing out of a position at Klondike and the job was mine! So, I have a job for this summer! Praise be to God! Not only do I no longer have to work with bears, but I'll be working with Gold Rush History on the Alaskan frontier! How cool is that? AND...Skagway (the town where Klondike is) is not super remote like Katmai...meaning I most likely have internet access and can use a telephone. Plus, Bruce was very lenient with me and I report for duty May 4...giving me some time to see my family and friends after France! AND he said I can take annual leave to come home for Alli's wedding! All things work together for the good of those who love God! I'm just so relieved that I won't be working with bears in the middle of Alaska. I just thought I'd share my joy with all of you. If you're interested, you can learn a little about Klondike Goldrush by visiting their website. www.nps.gov/klgo

Quelle Histoire!

2009-02-26T08:28:00.000-08:00

So...I fell in a hole yesterday. Not just any hole...a hole in a subterranean passage completely devoid of light in the fortified city of Brouages. What an adventure! But the bad part of all of that is that I broke a rib. Well, there's a first time for everything isn't there? Let me start at the beginning...

Yesterday, my friend and teammate Yop (johann) invited me out to see the sites of the Charente-Maritime. So, at the buttcrack of dawn, we went to the port of Marennes and went out the marais with his stepfather on his boat. The marais is what we call it when the tide is low and all of the oyster beds are exposed. It was very cold, but I went into the boat cabin and warmed up next to Urky, the dog. It was an industry unlike anything I've ever seen. Oyster farmers' lives are dictated by the tide. Sometimes, they go out before the light. Sometimes, in the evening...and sometimes, they are unable to work if the tides are not good enough. After leaving some oysters just off the coast of Ronce les bains and Ile d'Oleron, we returned and warmed up in front of the fire in the cabane while Yop's mother sorted good oysters from empty shells and other things.

Later that day, we went to Brouage. Now, I have been dying to see Brouage since I arrived. It's a completely fortified walled city built by Vauban and Richilieu less than 7 km from where I live. But as there are no buses out there...I haven't had an opportunity to visit. Brouage is also the birthplace of Samuel Champlain, the explorer who founded Quebec. Brouage was a catholic city in the 16th century and La Rochelle was a protestant city...which meant that there were the inevitable wars. At one time, the sea ran just up alongside of Brouage...it currently resides 7 or 8 km away. Now the city is surrounded by marshes. But the ramparts are in excellent condition. Brouage is much much smaller than Carcassonne, but it was just as cool. Anyways, while exploring the city, Yop and I found one of its subterranean passageways that used to allow access to the city by boat. We walked a ways in only to find the passage barricaded off. But what is a barricade to adventurers like us? Channeling the spirit of Indiana Jones, we walked past the barricade and attempted to explore the cavernous dark. Having no light, we attempted to use the flash of my camera to explore. We rounded a corner and were trying to trace the exit of the tunnel. All I remember is taking a step to the right and finding no ground beneath my foot. My first thought was, "Lauren, how could you be so stupid?!? You could have found the neverending pit for all you know!" But my tumble was brief and it concluded when I hit the back of my head against a wall. Relief flooded me...whew...I only fell about a meter or so. But the only thing poor Yop could see was my head and who knows what terrible things he was thinking. Of course when asked how I was, I responded, "Ca va, ca va." I see now that I was not "ca va". My primary occupation was with my hand...I had torn a rather large hole in it. My chest and hip were hurting a bit, but I was extremely pleases to find that I had sustained no head injuries. Anyways, we climbed out of the hole, found our way back into the sunlight and decided to search for Yop's mother to patch me up a bit. I then discovered that what had been a small tear in my jeans had turned into a gaping gulf...sniff...those were my favorite pair too! Anyways, I returned home afterwards, and although my ribcage was hurting, I was convinced it was probably just a big bruise or a pulled muscle.

So, I played basketball that night. I know...I am not an intelligent person. Afterwards, I clearly realized that perhaps the feeling in my chest was a little bit more than a bruise. But I decided to sleep on it and see how i felt in the morning. Welp, when Yop called me this morning to see how I was doing, I wasn't coherent enough to speak French, so he said he'd call me back. I then got up and realized that my ribs were feeling much much worse today than they were yesterday. Maybe I should play it safe and go to the doctor...which is what I did. Yop took me the doctor and helped me explain what it was that I had done. The doctor then proceeded to push on my sternum and my back at the same time, explaining that my ribcage would rotate and it would indicate whether I had broken something. Well, at first, it wasn't bad but as he moved down my sternum, there was very definite pain in my ribcage. So...apparently I've broken a rib. But I've done it in the best possible way...very clean break, possibly even just a very bad crack. No punctured lungs...I really count myself quite lucky. Actually, I hate to think of what I might have done had I walked straight off the ledge into that hole instead of taking a side step... Anyhoo, hope this finds you well! I've been banned from basketball for 10 days as I heal, so please be praying that this heals well and quickly.

Mon Anniversaire!

2009-02-23T04:22:00.000-08:00

For the first time in 8 years, it didn't rain on my birthday. Frankly, I was shocked. But it was rather pleasant all the same. I want to thank everyone for their birthday wishes, I had a most wonderful and pleasant birthday, and I shall now endeavour to recount the details.

So...Saturday, the day before my birthday, I found myself at the civic center of Marennes. The bball club was hosting a loto as a fundraiser. A loto is basically bingo. And there were some really fantastic prizes! But the majority of the 300 people there were over the age of 50. And they were serious bingo players! Tired of not winning, I started to talk to my neighbor only to be interupted by a loud "SHHH!!!" Wow. Loto is intense. So, I decided to construct a pyramid of bingo chips which entertained me mightily for some time. I watched as the 8 year old Lea used her own money to buy bingo cards and every possible item from the snack bar...she was very proud of the fact that she had paid for it. And she was so sure she was going to win too...welp, teach em young that gambling doesn't pay. Anyhoo, at midnight (I wasn't aware that it was midnight as I was constructing the hanging gardens of Bingolon), Thierry interupted number calling to say, "Today, the 22nd of February, in the United States, is a very important day". Oh crap. So, basically he announced my birthday in front of 300 people, made me stand up and then the lights went out and Fabrice came on to the stage with a birthday cake. So, I had to walk up in front of all those people and blew out my candles. It was embarrassing, but very nice of them too. After all of the people had left, Fabrice hauled out an enormous box and told me it was my birthday present. At the top of the box was a wreath made out of oyster shells (oyster shells aren't the prettiest) that I was made to wear around my neck so that pictures could be taken. I was told later that this oyster shell rings are lowered into water to attract baby oysters or something like that. Anyhoo, since Fabrice works for a beverage company, there were a ton of little things in the box that he had probably gotten for free from work...all stamped with alcohol brands. And I don't drink! But I did get this super sweet shirt that says "Staff" that I like great deal (even though it also says Smirnoff Ice...boo). But it was fun to pull out random things like dice and dominoes and nutella and hamburger buns and apricot jam. And then Fabrice brought me something very very nice. He gave me two books about the Charente-Maritime. Now I can share my lovely home with all of you! I can show you all of the forts, and ancent roman cities...everything! Laurent gave me a BBMB tshirt that my entire team had signed. Benoit signed "ton marié (husband)...I love you" which made me laugh. Lea had written "Je t'aimme fort" spelling aime incorrectly, but adding to its cuteness. All in all, a wonderful evening.

I spent most of the morning of my birthday marveling that it was sunny and reading a detective novel in my bed. All of a sudden, I received an text message from Melany which said they were coming to pick me up. I was like...ok. So...I got dressed (I'm entitled to spend the day in my pjs on my birthday!) and went down to meet the Cortieux family, namely Fabrice (my coach), his wife, and their daughter Melany (my teammate). I asked what we would be doing and they told me we were going to a puppy convention! That's right...you heard me. Breeders had come together and were selling puppies...they cost a pretty penny but that didn't stop one from petting all of the puppies. Pug puppies are the cutest. They snort like little piggies and are so potbellied with their curly pig tails. It was a lot of fun. Afterwards, we drove along the coast and stopped at Fort Vauban...another one of the many forts along the coast of the Charente Maritime. The sun was setting and you could just make out Fort Boyard (an island fortress) silhouetted against the horizon. From there, Fabrice treated me to dinner at a pizzeria (pizzerias in France are waaay more posh than they are in the states). I had "Exotique" pizza (French for hawaiian pizza) and it was delicious. All in all a most wonderful birthday. So...I think I'll go finish that detective novel now...

Pour Caits

2009-02-18T01:15:00.000-08:00

Alors...je vais ecrire une petite message pour mon amie Caitlyn. Mais en fait, il y a longtemps depuis j'ai ecrit quelque chose en francais...je lis, j'ecoute, and je parle le francais tout le temps...mais ecrire? c'est un peu difficile. Qu'est-ce que je peux dire a toi, Caitlyn? Je pense que tu vas adorer la France! Mais les temps sont mal, malhereusement. Il pleut tout le temps et il fait froid...mais Paris est belle...Paris...c'est comme une pierre precieuse. J'ai une liste de choses que tu dois visiter a Paris. Mais bien sur les endroits comme le tour eiffel, mais il y a des autre chose que je sais que tu vas aimer. Par exemple...visite chaque eglise...souvent tu trouves que les plus belles eglises sont les plus petites. Demande a Sarah...elle peut raconter un histoire dans l'eglise de Notre Dame de Montmartre... Quoi d'autre? Mange des crepes! Chaque jour! Peut-etre pas chaque jour...tu vas grossir...je rigole! Alors, t'es contente ma poule? Voila, une message juste pour toi...en francais!

This one's for Sarah

2009-02-17T02:21:00.000-08:00

So...I watched the Swan Princess last night. For those of you who don't know the glories of the Swan Princess, you must go watch it. RIGHT NOW! Basically, it's a pretty cheesy animated film that I love. And I'm somewhat of an animation snob. In fact, if I had to rate Swan Princess...it would have to be towards the bottom of the list as far as quality goes. 1. Disney/Studio Ghibli 2. Dreamworks (Prince of Egypt) 3. Fox (Anastasia) 4. Nissen (The Swan Princess) 5. The Magic Pony (I think its Russian...I've never seen animation of such poor quality) Ask Sarah about the Magic Pony sometime. Anyhoo, all of this to say that at the end of the film, when Prince Derek is having his big showdown with The Great Animal...I burst out laughing hysterically and couldn't stop. There comes a moment when the Great Animal pins its ears back, starts grinning maliciously, and snorting heavily through its nostrils. Sarah does such an amazing impersonation that although there was no one to hear me I was laughing uncontrollably for several minutes at the recollection. Thank you Sarah. I wonder if living alone is making me go crazy? Oh! And guess what? The special features has a sing along option! When I get home, Sarah, we are going to have a Swan Princess sing along. (Not you, Wesley...you're a rabbit!)

Skateboard...a haiku

2009-02-05T12:47:00.000-08:00

O how I hate you
The new kid brought you to school
Sleep now eludes me

25 Things

2009-01-30T14:59:00.000-08:00

So, I'm jumping on the bandwagon and publishing my 25 random facts about me like everyone and their mom has been doing on facebook for the last two weeks. Since I don't really have access to facebook, I'll post it here on my blog, since the friends of mine who frequent my blog are the ones I want to read it anyways. Anyhoo, in no particular order...mes 25 choses.
1. I am currently living in the oyster capital of France. Even though oysters taste like little gulps of sea water, I love it here!
2. Napoleon Bonaparte is my historical hero. Hands down.
3. I grit my teeth when I pet insanely cute animals. I also want to squeeze them into oblivion, but as this is hazardous to the health of the animal, I refrain.
4. At 6’1”, I am the shortest person in my family. The french find this “incroyable”.
5. The only age I ever wanted to be was 16…so I could drive.
6. I hate television…it rots the minds of our youth. With the exception of SO YOU THINK YOU CAN DANCE?
7. A purring cat asleep in your lap is akin to heaven. Even when the cat destroys your pants from excessive kneading.
8. Guacamole is my favorite food…although I’m not really sure if it qualifies as food. I love it with Carne Asada, black beans, chips…heck, sometimes I eat it by the spoonful. Not really sure if that’s too healthy…
9. My pet peeve is when people talk in movie theatres. I only pay to see a movie maybe 5 times a year…DO NOT RUIN IT FOR ME!
10. I secretly adore fashion and wish I could wear whatever I darn well please…much like the Japanese. Sometimes I do, but I wish I had to guts to wear the bizarre everyday.
11. If I had smaller feet, I would probably have a shoe obsession. As it is, I already own too many pairs of shoes. And jackets.
12. I’m intensely curious as to what people would think of me if I shaved my head.
13. I like French names for boys even though Americans find them effeminate. Par exemple: Michel, Benoit, Loic, Valentin, Sylvain…the list goes on.
14. My ambition in high school was to narrate a show for the history channel.
15. I love the sun. Like seriously. Like I’ll spend all afternoon in the sun basking like a lizard even if I return home with a sunburn. It hurts so good. I often take a sheet and find a patch of grass and either sleep or read.
16. I cried after the end of the last Narnia book. Not because the story was sad, but because it was the end of the series.
17. I rarely do anything with my hair. In fact, I rarely brush it. I’m not even sure if I know how to do anything with my hair.
18. I consider convincing my mother to let us name the cat Smeagol a great accomplishment.
19. I hate to do the dishes. I’d rather do any other chore. There is some satisfaction of a job well done after doing chores…but with dishes…you know you’re just going to use them again and have to clean them again. Paper plates are your friend.
20. I have perpetual bruises on my knees from basketball. I plan on playing indefinitely, but I often stop and wonder how much longer that will be…
21. I can be a bit of a control freak. You can watch whatever you want on the t.v., but I have to hold the remote.
22. I like to know things. Maybe its the reason I enjoy being a park ranger. I hold the knowledge, and the knowledge is empowering.
23. Sometimes, it is easier for me to understand French than people with British or Scottish accents. You’d think we speak the same language, right?
24. When I was in elementary school, I checked out D’aulaires Book of Greek Myths from the library at least 9 times in one year. I read it through every single time.
25. I don’t eat salad. I feel I could benefit just as much from going in the backyard and munching on some leaves.

Pour les gens qui aiment les chats

2009-01-26T10:19:00.000-08:00

Everytime I ride my bike past a certain yard in Bourcefranc, there is a certain faucet covered in black and white plastic that strongly resembles a sitting cat. And everytime I ride past this certain yard with this certain faucet, it is certain that my heart will leap up into my throat as I prepare to rejoice over the presence of a cat. (Every true cat lover will know exactly what I mean). But alas! Thwarted again! Last night, after being tricked for what could conceivably be the 1,391st time, I fervently said to myself, "I wish you WERE a cat." I continued on my way and gave no further thought to the matter. Upon exiting the bank, my attention was arrested as I glanced across the street and saw an apparition that made me catch my breath. Sitting in the windowsill, regarding me intently, sat a black and white cat. A cat that looked as if it may have sprung to life from a certain plastic covered faucet. For a full minute I stared at faucet cat and truly believed that my wish had come true. But then I came to my senses and slowly turned my bicycle homewards. I'm sure faucet cat is out there somewhere waiting for me to believe in him again so that I can take him home and he can sit in my lap and purr.

Les Temps des Cathedrales

2009-01-26T10:12:00.000-08:00

i am continually struck by the emptiness of the great cathedrals of France. There are signs posted that command silence upon entering a cathedral, but really...who would want to disturb that colossal emptiness, that cavernous silence. Not I... I walked into the Cathedrale de Saint-Pierre today. It is a magnificent cathedral, full of light and color...and I was the only one there to enjoy it. As I walked the floor of the catheral, I was struck by the state of disrepair I found it in. The cathedral is losing the battle against mold. Mold and moss may make for pituresque photos, but they eat away at stone, slowly destroying the history that has long since fled our awareness. What will be left in 100 years? I hestitate to even wonder. Each and everytime I enter a lonely, forsaken cathedral, I fell as if we are trying to make God a relic of the past. My relationship with my savior is alive and vibrant. I mourn for those who view God as a remnant from the middle ages that science was unable to extinguish. And so, each time I enter a cathedral, it is with a sense of melancholy. Cathedrals are beautiful houses of God, but they can be made even more so if filled to capacity with worshippers who lift their voices to fill the cavernous silence with music and praise. Helas! Il n'est plus les temps des cathedrales.

What can we do to end racism?

2009-01-24T04:34:00.000-08:00

This was the question I posed to my students after doing a presentation on Martin Luther King and the Civil Rights Movement. Many students had standard responses like educating our children and being tolerant, but I must say that my favorite answer was quite unexpected. "Why, put all the racists in gulags, of course". The idea of rounding up all the racists in the world and packing them off to Siberia to work in Russian labor camps was a novel one, and I found myself wiping the tears from my eyes before I could respond. I love French teenagers.

Platypus

2009-01-19T03:42:00.001-08:00

I think God created the platypus to be a perpetual thorn in the side of the scientist and his infernal habit of trying to neatly classify everything that doesn't necessarily need to be neatly classified. Maybe God created some things to just be. Maybe something is beautiful just because we can't comprehend it.

(This idea popped into my head shortly before midnight and wouldn't leave me alone until I had turned on the light and written it down. Who says God doesn't have a sense of humor?)

Poe

2009-01-13T05:06:00.000-08:00

Edgar Allan Poe, to be exact. I've been reading his Tales of Mystery and Imagination by the light of my bedside lamp late into the night for the past week or so. And all I have to say is that he is a genius. He practically invented the mystery/detectice genre with his Dupin stories (read Murders in Rue Morgue, The Mystery of Marie Roget, or The Purloined Letter). And he also has the ability to create suspense like few other authors I've seen. After reading The Pit and the Pendulum, I contemplated for hours the imagination he must have had to come up with something so sinister. Horror movies like Hostel and Saw got nothing on Poe. Although, Poe creates horror without resorting to descriptions of gore. I think that is what I appreciate the most. I also feel some affinity with Poe as his love for the French (and especially Paris) shines through in his works. Speaking of French, not only does he throw out random French phrases without translating them, he throws out German, Latin, and Greek phrases as well. Frankly, he makes me feel extremely unlearned. He also is constantly making references to classical mythology that are so far removed from the education we receive today that the only reason I had an inkling of what he was speaking was because of a course I took on the Ancient Historians, and class which maybe 20 people have taken out of the entire population at Point Loma. In addition to this, he employs words which I am positively sure he must have invented. It thrills me when I come across a word that I don't know, but it is a little excessive with Mr. Poe. I don't have the ability to leave my apartment, trek to the teacher's lounge and search the dictionary every time I encounter a new word (which happens frequently when reading Poe). He is also excessively fond of the word "Phantasmagoric". Go figure. But don't think that he is all sinister stories of horror...His "Loss of Breath" was one of the funniest things I've read in a good long while...following almost in the tradition of Twain. Anyhoo, I'm sure you didn't check my blog to read a book report, but I just wanted to share what's been on my mind lately...and I've been thinking about Mr. Poe quite a bit. Hope this finds everyone quite well!

An American...or two...in Paris

2009-01-06T02:40:00.000-08:00

Continuing the journal entries from last time...

Le 26 Decembre
Today was a day of waiting. I awoke this morning and waited in the hostel until it was time to leave to go get Sarah. When I reached Gare du Nord, I waited 30-45 minutes for the RER B because there was some sort of problem with its normal circulation. When I finally arrived at the airport, I spent an hour and a half waiting at Sarah's arrival gate surrounded by Muslim women who emitted screeches akin to Xena, warrior princess, everytime they greeted someone they knew. I finally found Sarah (her luggage WOULD be the last thing loaded on to the conveyor belt) who had had about 7 hours of sleep in the previous two days combined, who I was very glad to see regardless. We made our way back to Republique, deposited our bags in our room, and freshened up a bit...luckily, I was able to move out of the mixed room into an all girl room...no more snoring old men for me. By this time, I was ravenously hungry (having been reduced to eating leftover christmas cookies) so we stopped and had some kebab. I can't really describe doner kebab other than to say that they shave meat off a giant meat log. Its rather tasty all the same. It was so nice to sit down and eat some real food after two days of surviving off of christmas cookies and chocolate. Anyways, afterwards, we took the metro to trocadero so we could take the requisite eiffel tower pictures. It was rather cold (0-2 dgrees Celsius) and the line to go up the tower was horrendously long and Sarah was dead on her feet so we decided to call it a night. We walked to Invalides and saw the Pont Alexandre III, the Grand Palais, and Invalides all lit up and looking beautiful. We also had a chance to see the eiffel tower sparkle. (it does this every hour). So, we returned to Republique, took wonderful hot showers, and Sarah was asleep by 8 pm. Hopefully she will wake up refreshed tomorrow for our louvre day. I'm gonna try to convince her to skip the eiffel tower in favor of Notre Dame...we shall see what happens... But I must say, i'm very happy to have Sarah here with me. I wish I could keep her for longer. Anyways, good night. Tomorrow, the Louvre!

*NOTE*
In between the last post and the next post, Sarah and I ran all over Paris and saw A LOT! We visited the Louvre, climbed the towers of Notre Dame, strolled the streets of the Latin quarter/Saint Michel, visited Versailles, paid tribute to Napoleon at his tomb at Invalides, perused the military history of France at the Musee D'Armee, ate more kebab, climbed the eiffel tower (so cold!), ate sandwiches on the steps of the opera house, climbed the hill of montmartre to sacre coeur, ate many crepes, and visited the artists of montmartre at the place du tertre. Whew! I know we did much more...but on to the next journal entry!

Le 29 Decembre
Many things have transpired in the last few days, but of all the incidents that have occured, I must record one, lest I forget it. While in Notre Dame de Montmartre, an older church alongside Sacre Coeur that is relatively tourist free (tourist free...the way to be! For churches at least...), Sarah had an "experience"...although I must say it wasn't of the religious type. The solemn hush that can only be found in a cathedral was all pervading, and Sarah and I were treading softly and speaking in whispers. About half way through the church, Sarah sneezed. Which would have been ok...except it was the most unnatural sounding sneeze I have ever heard...and it echoed through the cavernous passageways of the cathedral, utterly destroying the sanctity of that holy place. The look on Sarah's face was a melange of horror and embarrassment that was strongly fighting the urge to laugh. We struggled to compose our faces in this most solemn of places and headed for the exit as demurely and quickly as possible. As soon as we reached the open air, we burst out laughing hysterically. And it is impossible to keep from laughing to myself each time I recall the incident.

P.S. What do you think of Snert as a possible cat name? I've added it to my collection of names I will have for my cats when I'm a crazy old cat lady. Thus far I have, Baudelaire (for a black cat), Themistocles (this cat needs to be an epic hero), and Smee.

Christmas in Paris

2009-01-02T03:56:00.001-08:00

Hello all and Happy New Year! This will be the beginning of several posts as I recount my adventures with my sister. So, I will start off the series with my reflections written in my journal as I traveled to Paris to meet Sarah. Direct from my journal:

Le 24 Decembre
Saw 10 swans in between Marennes and Rochefort...always in pairs. Also saw several nests high up in power lines. Looked as if they belonged to eagles. I wonder...do swans nest in trees or on the ground? On my way to Paris to see Sarah! Merry Christmas!
Later...
I don't know how much more of this insufferable techno music I can take. It've lost count of the number of cheap cheesy santas I've seen suspended from rooftops and windows...must be well over 20 by now.
On the train...
There is a super creepy old man sitting across the aisle from me! He keeps staring at me! I thought he got off at Poitiers, but he magically reappeared after I fell asleep. He keeps looking across the aisle out of my window even though he has his own window and since its dark outside, you can't see anything except for reflections meaning that he is staring at my reflection! Ew! I keep catching him staring at me and he straightens up real quick and pretends to look somewhere else every time. I just want to yell at him..."Why do you keep staring at me!?!"

Le 25 Decembre
I've become a most excellent liar. I've already told innumerable lies today, jut to protect my personal safety. I made the mistake of telling the truth this morning at the tour eiffel. The old "do you speak English?" so i can hand you a card with my bosnian refugee story on it. (There are so many of these women and they all have exactly the same story...its just not possible). When approached by these bosnian women, I just pretended that I didn't speak english, and pulled it off pretty well. Then when the guys selling the mini eiffel towers attacked with cries of "pretty lady!" I gave them a cold Parisian "Non, merci." They always target me because I'm too tall to be French. The last straw this morning was a crazy Moroccan guy who accosted me as I attempted to kill time until lunch by reading on a park bench. he started off by asking if he could speak with me while I obviously had no want of company as I was deeply immersed in my book. Well, he started off with the basics. What nationality are you, what is your job in France, etc, etc. Of course I was lying through my teeth. He wanted to know where I was staying...I gave him the other end of town from my hostel. He then asked if I was married and when I responded in the negative, he enthused, "me neither!". Uh oh. He proceeded to show me his passport, his cell phone, his visa, things you should never show to anyone! Anyhoo, I told him I had a boyfriend in La Rochelle. I'm such a liar. He then asked what I was going to be doing later and I said, "je vais disparaitre"..."I'm going to disappear". I've never been so blunt with anyone before. But he didn't get the hint. He wanted me to accompany him to the eiffel tower tower but there was no way in this lifetime or the next that I was going to do that. He then got desperate and told me that so "jolie" and "belle". But to no avail. He finally left me alone to enjoy my book in peace. At the lunch at Ginger's apartment (the youth pastor at the american church of paris), I got along rather well with everyone and thoroughly enjoyed myself. We had a hodge-podge of chili, german bread, romanian cabbage rolls, okra, and australian ham bread...maybe it was mexican...I can't remember. Anyways, i ate far too much but had several good conversations with people from all around the world. There was a mexican woman who spoke english with an australian accent having lived there for years, romanians, new zealanders, a girl from Cameroon...we were a very diverse group. I made good friends with one of the New Zealanders, Roxy. We spent Christmas night by walking the entire length of the champs-elysees (the lights are fantastic! and so are the crowds!) We bought waffles and ate them as we walked to Place de la Concord. From there we took the metro to Haussman where we looked at the decorated shop windows at Printemps and Galleries LaFayette. I am soo going shopping in La Rochelle during the soldes (sales) in January! Anyhoo, had a most satisfactory night, returned to the hostel, made friends with the Canadian woman in my room, and fell into an hour or so long conversation with her. I spoke French for the majority of the conversation until I learned that she could speak English and the we switched over. The old man who stayed in our room was perfectly polite and respectful...except for the fact that he snored like Satan. And then the weird Spanish guy woke up and left at 5 AM, and then my mom called called at 6 AM to say that Sarah's flight had been delayed by 3 hours. So yeah...a most interesting Christmas.

Ding Dong! Merrily on high!

2008-12-21T03:38:00.000-08:00

I don't actually know how that song goes, but it sounded like a good blog title. Anyhoo, Merry Christmas to all! I'm very much in the Christmas spirit right now and I thought I'd share a little bit of my joy with you all. We've been having various Christmas parties this week and that has probably contributed to my joy...that along with the fact that I am on Christmas vacation. Yay!!! So...once again I'm sitting at McDonalds listening to techno music, but not even that can diminish my christmas spirit. In fact, this mcdonalds has a real tree inside and is completely decorated. So, last night, we had our bbmb christmas party. (BBMB= basket du bassin marennes bourcefranc...our basketball club). We started off the evening by meeting up at the gym in marennes and from there we all carpooled over to Yop's house in Brouages. Brouages is a fortified town nearby that I've been dying to see but I could only just make out the walls by the street lights. I rode with Florian, Benoit, and David and we listened to ACDC in the car. They knew all the words and even sang along with the guitar solos, but when I asked them if they understood what they were singing...."Nope". We all trooped into Yop's house where he wined and dined us quite liberally. In true French fashion, the wine was flowing and the foie gras was consumed. I preferred the quiche, but that's just me... I had a bit of white wine just to pacify Yop but really the stuff is vile. I'm really glad I brought some soda for me and Lea (the 7 year old...). Yop's house is quite charming. He's painted all of the door and window frames a vibrant red...which instantly had me scheming on how I could decorate my house some day. Anyways, from there we piled back into car to drive to the bowling alley...the most happening place in our area. Normally, I suck at bowling, but last night I had an unusual streak of luck and had about 5 strikes. Maybe its because David told me I was going to lose. I usually do better if there is a serious element of competition. He won the first game but I won the second...in fact I wiped the floor with his face the second game...but that may have been due to the increased amount of alcohol in his system. I'll take whatever handicap I can get. Anyways, during the night, David kept telling me that I needed to stay in France. I told him it was impossible unless I was able to find another work contract or unless I married someone. So, Benoit volunteered. (It was Benoit's birthday last night). So, with David and Florian presiding, Benoit took my hand and we were married. But first it was necessary to obtain a divorce between Benoit and Roselyn, who he has married the previous night. So...now that I'm married I can stay in France forever! Bwahahaha!!! But as benoit was very drunk (very drunk) I don't think he'll remember this today. As the car drove away that dropped me off last night, he was still leaning out of the window calling "Je t'aime ma femme!" or "I love you, my wife!". Interesting to say the least. But I had a lot of fun. Once again, I didn't get home until 2 in the morning. Welp, its time to hop back on my bike, return to Bourcefrance and start cleaning my apartment in order to ready it for Sarah's arrival. I swept and mopped the floors yesterday as well as cleaned the bathroom, but there is still much to do. So...I will bid you all adieu until we meet again. Probably not until after Christmas and then I will have much to say of my excursion in the beautiful city of Paris with my sister. I wish you all a very Merry Christmas and may the love of Christ fill all of your hearts and homes this Christmas season!
Love, Lauren

HELP!!! My students are on strike!!

2008-12-11T00:28:00.001-08:00

That's right...you heard me...my students are on strike. Is that even possible? And we have had many, many disruptions due to striking students. To start off, yesterday, I awoke to find most of the school assembled outside surrounded by about 15 gendarmes. They then struck out in the direction of the bridge that connects us to the island. Weird. But today was even weirder. I woke up early for my 8:30 class only to have it interrupted every two minutes. One of my students handed me a pamphlet outlining their reasons for striking on my way to class...I should have known then. They were protesting a major change in curriculum set to take place next school year. Apparently, it would cut a lot of cultural classes. And the way the French school system works, these changes were decided by the government and the schools have to scramble to figure out how to implement them. About 10 minutes into class, once we had finally gotten everybody assembled (french students are perpetually late), we started hearing yelling in the courtyard. The first rumblings of "la greve" (a strike...if you ever visit France, learn that word well...it bodes ill.). Welp, to start things off, they pulled the fire alarm. So, we had to go outside. I would have ignored it, but something about it being illegal to remain indoors during a fire alarm made me go outside. When the surveillants told us it was ok to go back inside, I started rounding my students up, prying girls away from boyfriends in other classes, and herding them all back in, amidst a general grumbling. One student yelled at me, "Mais madame! C'est une greve!" (But ma'am! It's a strike!). And I responded, "Je suis americaine. Il n'y a pas de greves aux Etats-Unis." (I'm American. We don't have strikes in America.). So...finally getting the class reassembled, I tried to recommence the lesson. But this time, some girls came in and made all of my students vote if they were for or against the strike. I must say I'm very grateful to my class. They were all against the strike, so they remained in their seats as all hell broke loose. After this, the strikers started marching up and down the halls, throwing open the doors to every classroom. One of my students got mad, slammed it closed, and when it was opened again, promptly chewed out the person who opened the door. So...I'm curious to see what will happen in my other classes today...will I even have class today? After I dismissed the class, I looked out the window to see about 50 students or so marching toward the bridge again, surrounded by police cars. This time they were carrying banners. My last view of them they had started to run. I get this sneaking suspicion that most don't care about the issue...they just like to strike. They are french, what can I say?

An Ode to Black Beans and Guacamole...among other things

2008-12-05T06:40:00.000-08:00

Soo...this week has been looong!!! The kids sense Christmas vacation like a rabid animal senses prey...making their attention spans wander and their level of apathy skyrocket. Apparently, its a tradition for French people to eat Oysters for Christmas...which means that most of the kids get a seasonal job the week before Christmas harvesting oysters, since Marennes is the oyster capital of France. It certainly is a unique environment. Today, we had a veritable tempest. I'm not even kidding. I woke up early this morning to the wind attacking my apartment and peals of thunder that continued most of the day. Several trees blew down on the island. It was the oddest thing to see the trees bending over sideways in the pouring rain...all while the sun was shining. It was the weirdest weather today.

Last night, courtesy of my mother, I gorged myself on black beans and guacamole. If you know me, you know that I eat inordinate amounts of black beans and guacamole...but I can't find them here in France!! So, my mom sent me a package of black beans...but what a lot of work just to enjoy their deliciousness! I had to soak them in a pan of water for 6-8 hours and afterwards cook them for an hour to an hour and a half. The wait was excruciatingly long and I was several times tempted to try to eat them while they were still uncooked. As the storm raged around my apartment, the beautiful marvelous smell of black beans began to fill my kitchen. I also managed to find some ripe avocados and I made some guacamole that was pretty tasty if I say so myself. I also cooked some rice, cut up some chicken, and threw in some corn...making it the closest thing to Mexican food that I have eaten since arriving in France. Couple that with some Orangina and my dinner last night was simply devine. I am still glowing at the thought of it...and you know what makes it better? Leftovers!!

So...here are some anecdotes from this week of teaching. I thought I would pass them all on to you. I was discussing with one class some images and political cartoons related to eating well and exercising. They have a big test at the end of the year where they have to speak out loud for 5 minutes in English about a picture that they see...so we were practicing. One of the cartoons depicted an overweight child in the school cafeteria. I asked them to describe what they saw. One enthusiastic boy responded, "She eez fat!". What can I say? I conceded the point..."yes, she is fat"...he then proceeded to say, "she is like a ball! She will roll away!"...at which point, I gave up all semblance of dignity and gave myself to the laughter that had been seducing me all class period. In most of my other classes, we have been talking about slang. For some reason, today we got on the topic of racism in America and I brought up September 11...and when I asked a boy if he knew what September 11 was, he said, "Oh yes! Boum boum enorme!". I probably shouldn't have laughed...but he was so enthusiastic! In another one of my classes, I had to stop several boys from dropping f-bombs...the french word for seal (foques) sounds an awful lot like the f-word...so when I stopped them, they protested that they were talking about seals swimming in the ocean. Yeah. Right. We then were talking about accents and one very clever boy (mischievous, but oh so clever) told me that there is a french joke about "le soleil sur la plage" which translates to "the sun on the beach"...which if you've ever heard a French person pronounce that last sentence, you know what I mean. All in all, a tiring yet satisfying week. I'm going to go eat some more black beans and guacamole. Somebody please go enjoy a california burrito for me.

This note is for John

2008-12-03T02:56:00.000-08:00

As the title says, this note is for John, because he demanded a new note. So here it is. I don't have much to say since last time, as I haven't really done much this week other than read Calvin and Hobbes in French and attempt to teach my french students about American slang. Actually, the class I had yesterday was pretty horrible. They wouldn't stop talking for an instant...all girls. So, I ended up playing hangman. It got them to shut up. My second class decided not to show up. So, I rode my bike to the mairie and got my official titre de sejour. A nifty little card that expires at the end of May...so, i'm legal in France until that date, but I'll most likely be leaving sooner than that...actually, I'll be back before the end of April...just in time for Sarah's birthday! I had bball practice yesterday, but I only had two students there...so we played 21 and I smoked 'em. I couldn't win a game of 21 in the states to save my life...well maybe just once or twice. Maybe its because I was playing against Andrew...oh man, I'm gonna get used to playing soft against French people and I'm gonna return to the states and get my rear handed to me! As it is Wednesday, almost all of the students have gone home. Wednesdays in France are half days for students. Class ends about noon. I wish America operated on a French time table...that is to say, that no one (including professors) shows up to class on time...stores close arbitrarily...and meals last for hours! Sounds good to me. Also, this whole working only 12 hours a week. yeah...I dig that. Life is gonna be so hard when I get back!! Anyhoo, I had better get going...I'm going to go search for my "beau sapin"...my christmas tree! I hope I can find a tiny one to put up in my apartment... Mom, don't forget to mail me my christmas music! Maybe I'll brave the cold tonight and bike through downtown to view all of the lights that have been strung up. It's beginning to feel a lot like Christmas... I love you all and enjoy this holiday season!

Thanksgiving in France!

2008-11-30T09:29:00.000-08:00

Bonjour tout le monde!!
I hope this finds everyone well and I hope that everyone had a wonderful thanksgiving gorging themselves on Turkey and Pumpkin pie. I had a rather interesting "thanksgiving" and I'm sure that it will be one that I will always remember, if only for all the warm fuzzies I got in my heart this year.

I spent actual Thanksgiving day in a classroom, trying to teach my beautiful French middle schoolers about Thanksgiving. Honestly, the only thing that the French know about Thanksgiving is that we eat turkey (la dinde!) and when I explain pumpkin pie I get exclamations of "degueulasse!" (disgusting!) I did have one student ask me why the indians didn't scalp the pilgrims...at which I had such interesting scenarios in my head that I almost forgot to answer the question. Anyhoo, Gwenael invited me back to Rochefort to spend an American Thanksgiving with is family. I don't need an excuse to go visit his family...I love them!

I took the bus early Saturday morning to Rochefort where I met Gwenael at the market. We bought a few last minute things for the meal...stuff for stuffing...various autre choses (other things). We stopped in the town square for a moment so that I could watch the ice skaters on the skating rink that had opened for the holidays only the night before. It was so cold outside...I don't know how they didn't simply die out there on the ice! I then managed to have Gwenael take me to a sporting goods store (We have nothing of the sort in Bourcefranc...it's too small!) where I was finally able to buy some proper basketball shoes! No more blisters on my feet! We met Dominique and the girls at the store. From there we returned home where I played the wii with Emma and Angele. Once again, they kicked my butt. We had a light lunch (well, Dominique called it light, but I was stuffed afterwards!). During lunch, the two oldest girls were having an interesting conversation. It went something like this: Angele asked Emma if she remembered being born. Emma responded "of course not!" and then Angele said "moi non plus" which means "me neither." So of course I was laughing hysterically. Its so comforting to have these three girls crowd around me each time I go to visit...I get to hug them and its rare that I get to hug anyone. Like I said earlier...it fills my heart full of warm fuzzies. After lunch, I helped Dominique chop up stuff for the stuffing. Of course, the girls had to help too...which made me fearful for their little fingers. The way that Dominique made the stuffing was unlike anything I've ever tasted...but it was soo good! It definitely tasted French, but that's not bad at all because French cooking is exquisite. We put the turkey in (first Gwen had to cut off the head and the feet...they don't sell them sans head in France...at which the girls made extraordinary grimaces.) and then we set off for a local museum.

The museum was right up my alley. It was called the Musee des Commerces d'autrefois...roughly translated, the museum of commerce/business from other times. What they had done was set up an old warehouse with different rooms which were set up as they would have been in the beginning of the twentieth century. So, pretty much, I love the end of the 19th century/beginning of the 20th century, so this museum stuffed full of cultural history was eye candy for me. They had a bar, a chemist shop, a launderer...lots and lots of typical businesses from the turn of the century. It also had a gold mine in print advertising. You may recognize the following poster...I saw an original full length poster from 1922! It was spectacular! What I wouldn't do to have this poster in my home... Anyways, as it was a warehouse, it was pretty spectacularly cold...so we returned to a home that smelled of roasting turkey.

I helped Dom make mashed potatoes...they didn't turn out as well as mom's, but honestly, what does? I also attempted to make gravy...pas mal...but not fantastic. But it did the job. Also, Dom made galettes de mais...kind of like little cornbread pancakes. They were pretty good. Another math teacher and his wife joined us for dinner. For an apero, Gwen had bought cranberry juice, which most of them had never tasted. In fact, Ocean Spray is the only form in which you will find cranberries in France. We then sat down to the table for dinner. And I must say, it was pretty fantastic. The conversation of course turned to food...the French love to talk about food. Gwen remarked that it was ironic that the French always talk about food while they eat and he inquired as to what we talk about over dinner in America. I told him that my mom likes to watch Trauma: Life in the E.R. as we eat and Sarah enjoys sharing delightful stories from clinical. Well, that's not all I told him...but I seem to recall an extraordinary amount of inappropriate for the dinner table stories told at our house around the dinner table. The wife of Julien (the other math teacher) brought a pumpkin pie that she had made. It tasted nothing like an American pumpkin pie, but it was GOOD! It had almonds in it and it was very mellow and nutty...I liked it extrememly. Good conversation was had and I was overall very thanksful for the kindness of the Caurant family in taking in a lonely American like me for Thanksgiving dinner. We finally finished dinner at around 10 or so...normal for French people.

I was going to catch a ride back to Bourcefranc with Julien and his wife because they live on the island, but first Gwen proposed a game. So...we ended up playing poker. But first, I snuck upstairs to say goodbye to the girls. Angele was the only one still awake (she has more energy than her two sisters combined) and she was reading by flashlight. When she saw me, she pulled on my arm until my face was at her level and then she gave me a kiss on the cheek. After a wonderful meal and a goodnight kiss from an adorable little girl, the warm fuzzies were just overflowing. So, I rejoined them for poker where I didn't suck too bad...an accomplishment for me. Gwen showed us his gramophone from the 1930s that still works. You had to crank it to get the record spinning but the sound was just fantastically scratchy and old. He had some big band music in there and it sounded like something out of the movies...it was the sound of nostalgia. I loved it! After Julien and his wife had wiped the table with our faces, we were finally through with poker somewhere around midnight. I then returned to Bourcefranc where I promptly crashed, happy, content, and thankful, for my first French Thanksgiving.

A Very Good Day

2008-11-20T05:59:00.000-08:00

Hello all!
So...the French teachers are on strike today meaning that there is hardly anyone here. But they kind of neglected to tell me that they were on strike, so I showed up to class this morning and there was no one there. Oh well. There are probably 10 teachers here today and scattered handfuls of students. My second class had 4 students. We ended up watching a Charlie Brown Thanksgiving. I have two classes this afternoon and I hope they will be there, just so that today will not be a total waste. Anyways, the important part about today is that I got my carte de sejour!!! (my visa). I'm no longer an illegal alien...I'm a legal alien! But unfortunately it expires in February, so I have to renew it at the end of January. Grrr...French government... Anyhoo, that is one burden off my mind. So, praise God that I didn't have any problems during the visa process! I've been hearing horror stories from the other assistants. I also won two auctions on ebay!! I feel like such a cheater cuz I'm awake over here when the bidding closes while America is sleeping...so easy to swoop in and get something in the last 30 seconds...bwahahaha!!! Ebay is exciting...I should stay off of it for a while... That's all for now...I have class starting...

French Bowling Alleys

2008-11-16T03:59:00.000-08:00

This entry was written sometime after midnight, so please forgive the incoherentness of it all. (I'm not even sure if incoherentness is a word...if it isn't, dibs on creating it.)

I just got back from bowling with my bball team. An interesting experience, let me tell you...this is my second time bowling with the team and I must say that I had more fun this time. Maybe because I knew everybody a bit better. I suck at bowling...completely and utterly. I didn't get dead last, but pretty close. Anyways, back to the beginning of the story. We all met at 9:30 pm outside of my apartment. If I've said it once, I've said it a million times...these French people start their evenings too late! Of course, when you arrive, you must greet everyone, so you go around kissing everyone you see. Its better if you get there early because you have less people to search out and kiss...the people who get there after you are the ones who have to hunt everyone down and kiss them all. But Holy Cow! The bigger the group gets, the more kissing and greeting until its like a mass orgy of kissing all around you. You're kissing people you don't know and greeting them like you've known them all your life. I rode with Fabrice, his wife, Roselyne, and Gladys. I really get along very well with Roselyne and Gladys. Now, if memory serves me well, I don't really remember alcoholic beverages being served at bowling alleys in the states. Maybe beer, but I don't ever recall them bringing alcohol right to your lane so that you can consume it as you bowl, as in France. So, it didn't take long for our party to become quite boisterous and intoxicated. I just had a limonade (which was nothing like lemonade...I think it may have been something like sprite), while everyone else had beer and God knows what else. However, this increased intoxication boded well for my bowling game. They played worse and worse as the alcohol set in, making me look better and better. Thierry is already a loud guy, but after a few drinks, he is twice what he is normally. He kept asking me how to say things in English, would run over to the guys, try to repeat it, and butcher it completely. It was kind of fun to try to teach drunk french guys how to pronounce my name correctly. All the french people put the accent on the second syllable, making my name sound something like lau-REN. I tried to get them to put the stress on the first syllable, LAU-ren. Also, American R's are hard for French people to pronounce. Anyhoo, I have a feeling that from now on, I will get many butchered mispronunciations of my name. While at the bowling alley, I saw one of the gym teachers, Marc. The bowling alley is a happening place to be in our tiny town. Actually, my town has no bowling alley...we had to drive to the island to find one. Anyways, Marc was consuming vast amounts of alcohol and appeared to be enjoying himself immensely. It was a little weird to see the profs outside of a school setting. When we had all finished ( I finished third to last), we all trooped outside for good-byes. Once again, we entered into the mass orgy of alcoholic kisses goodbye. Everyone was laughing hysterically, and since laughter is contagious, so was I. I was very thankful that Fabrice's wife had appointed herself designated driver so that we could all get home safely, because Fabrice was just a tad bit too intoxicated to take the wheel. Anyhoo, its now 1:30 am and I am not tired in the least having had a cappucino and some coca cola earlier today...not to mention I just scarfed some chips and wannabe guacamole sauce (I'm not really sure what guacamole sauce is, but the French think they are selling Mexican food...I'm gonna let them think that, because its better than nothing). Until we meet again!

A Very Long Day...

2008-11-13T12:03:00.000-08:00

This is direct from my journal following my very long no good horrible, terrible very long day (Ok, so it wasn't that bad at all...but it was certainly interesting)
le 12 Novembre
Well, I had another day of orientation in Poitiers today. What a waste of time and money. At least I'm being reimbursed. The earliest bus out of Bourcefranc was at 6:20 am. But I had no money for the fare, so I rode my bike at 6 in the morning to get cash from the ATM. That was actually pretty exhilirating, being awake before the rest of the world, listening to the birds...even if it was dark and cold. I got on the bus, which arrived late. I was pretty positive that the bus was going to be so late that I would miss my train in Surgeres...actually, that was what I was secretly praying for...I really didn't want to go to Poitiers this morning. Magically, our bus driver made up lost time...not really sure how as I obsessively checked the schedule in my hands at every stop so I could note with satisfaction how late we were going to be. Anyways, we made it on time...much to my chagrin. I already had an excuse planned out and everything. From there I boarded the train to Poitiers only to discover that my ipod was dead. That, also, magically runs out of battery...especially when I don't listen to it with the intent of saving the battery. Go figure. Orientation started at 9 and my train arrived at 9:15, the earliest I could get to Poitiers without spending the night like last time. So, I climbed the stairs of doom into the city once more and literally flew across the city, arriving at the CRDP in a record 15 minutes. I arrived to hear Benoit explaining the differences between the grade levels in college (french middle school...not university). As if we hadn't all figured that out already in our first month of teaching. Basically, useless. I did manage to meet Amelia again, the one I had lunch with in La Rochelle. Ended up sitting next to a boy from Wyoming during lunch only to find out he was also practictioner of living history. So we talked history over lunch, which morphed into politics, which is where my attention span ran off a cliff and plunged to a dramatic death.

After lunch was the only interesting part for me. We split into groups and one of the Canadians promptly named us Team Awesome. I was pretty ok with the title. He also had a true canadian accent, where he pronounced "sorry" just like Gilbert Blythe in Anne of Green Gables ("I'm soory Anne"...I love it!), which quickly raised him in my esteem. We shared activities with one another that we had done with our classes and we had to pick one to then share with the entire group. I shared mafia. Yes...I've been playing Mafia with my students. I know that's not true teaching, but they love it! Canadian guy seemed to really like the idea of playing mafia as well. Canadian guy shared his experience of trying to get his students to write skits. I was laughing pretty hard. Even though his French sucks, he can do a dead-on impression of a French person trying to speak English. For example, they were supposed to write skits involving apologies. Here is one such example that he gave:
student1: "you kill my cat."
student2: "I kill your cat?"
1: "you KILL my cat!"
2: "I kill your cat?"
1: "YOU KILL MY CAT!!"
2: I'm sorry.
1: Go to your room!
2: I'm sorry!
1: Go to your room!
I love French people. After all the presentations, Canadian guy gave us all high fives and told us we had "won". I didn't realize it was a competition, but works for me. Come to think of it, he said he was from Halifax, which is close to Prince Edward Island...and Avonlea! Which is why he sounds like Gilbert!

Anyhoo, I cut out early to return home so that I could catch the last bus out of Surgeres, but first I stopped at Monoprix to buy some peanut M&Ms...they don't sell the regular ones very often in France...just the peanut ones. I got on the train and as I didn't have a specific seat, I was allowed to sit in any open space. Well, the seat I chose smelled rank, and when I realized that I was sitting in someone else's seat and had to move, I was only too glad to do so. Turns out the cause of the odor was on of those vile little yappy dogs that belong to older ladies. The owner probably bought her dog a ticket, because it was chilling on the seat, no cage or anything. I'm pretty sure that's not allowed. So, i sat on the other end of the car and what do you know? We are lucky enough to have our car sniffed by a drug sniffing golden retriever while in transit. The drug busters were patrolling all of the cars and the luggage racks. I kept thinking that the dog would smell the sandwich in my bag and then they would throw me in prison and I'd never see my family again. You might think I'm melodramatic, but it happened to Edmond Dantes...it could happen to anyone.

So, after an excruciatingly long day, complete with over 6 hours of public transportation and another 2 hours of waiting for said transportation to arrive, I finally made it home. One bonus was that we had a glorious sunset...the first day in weeks that I've been able to enjoy the sky swept free of clouds. And it was a beautiful full moon as well. The moon is very comforting, sitting up there in the sky, especially when it is full. It's nice to think that the moon is the same no matter where you go in the world. Anyways, I arrived home with just enough time to change into my bball clothes and catch a ride with sebastien to marennes for practice. I was an extremely long day. I was pooped after practice, but of course French people sit around drinking red wine and eating pate after bball practice. I had some pate, but I just sat there hoping they would notice how tired I was and take me home. Which they finally did. And then I slept and knew no more.

I've been having my students listen to the song "Sadie Hawkins Dance" by Relient K. They have to fill in the lyrics that I've removed. It's very satisfying to hear a room full of french high schoolers singing "Sadie Hawkins Dance, In my khaki pants, there's nothing better...oh oh oh!" Everytime I hear that song I think of Duane Arthur Simpfenderfer Jr. and the way he sings it. Duane, wherever you are, know that I am thinking of you...about 20 times a day...every time I play Sadie Hawkins Dance.

Random thoughts on France...

2008-11-06T08:08:00.000-08:00

So...here I am...sitting at McDonalds, shamelessly abusing their free wifi. I feel slightly ashamed to be at McDonalds, but when you live in a town as small as I do and internet cafes do not exist, you'll do what you can. Of course, I get internet at the high school, but the majority of the sites I frequent are blocked...like facebook. I never realized how hopelessly addicted I was to facebook. So, I put my laptop in the basket on my bike and biked 3 miles to McDonalds, just so I could upload pics to facebook. That sounds slightly pathetic. But also, it was an excuse to get out, because this is the first day in many that it has not rained. And when it rains, I am absolutely stuck in Bourcefranc. I tried to ride my bike in the rain last week. Bad idea. I'm never doing that again. McDonalds in France has good music. Maybe I'll just come here to listen to the music. And eat peanut m&m mcflurries.

There are a couple of phrases that I hear continually being an english assistant. I've also started using these phrases and thought I should pass them on to all of you should you ever choose to visit France. The first one is "C'est quoi, ca?" Which roughly translates as "What's that?" Its not the most refined thing to say, but in a French high school, I hear it continually, and have even begun to adopt it myself. The other thing I hear probably 20 times a day is "J'ai pas compris." This means "I didn't understand". It is very useful. I try to get my students to they don't understand in english, but they just stare at me like deer caught in headlights. I had a small success in class with the BTS today. I taught them how to play mafia. It was a lot of fun, but it took several rounds of "Jean-baptiste, you opened your eyes again! Now you're dead!" for them to finally figure it out. I hope that we can play it more successfully in the future now that they understand it better. I think they call it "werewolf" or something like that in French.

The French love to swear. I mean, over the most mundane things. And I can't help but laugh. I know, I should be more disapproving, especially with my students, but it just strikes me as so funny. Playing bball last night with the boys, I heard my share of words. Especially "putain". Originally, it meant something like "whore", but the strength of it varies depending on the situation. It just strikes me as funny. I really need to stop laughing (or at least sniggering to myself) everytime someone swears. Anyhoo, those are just a few reflections for now. I've uploaded two new albums to facebook for your viewing pleasure. The first can be found at http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2030769&l=7d9c0&id=64300928 and the second can be found at http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2030768&l=d30ed&id=64300928 Enjoy!

Medieval Adventures in Carcassonne

2008-11-01T07:37:00.000-07:00

Well, I’ve just returned from the magical land of Carcassonne (well, it was magical to me at least) and I’ve got quite a bit to say. So, go ahead and grab a mug of hot cocoa or whatever it is that you drink, and settle down…because this is gonna be a long one.
We left Bourcefranc on Wednesday morning. Beatrice and I were lucky enough to get a ride with Aurelie to Rochefort…otherwise we would have had to spend a wretched two hours on a bus versus getting there in 30 minutes by car. The first leg of our journey took us to Bordeaux where we would change trains. Beatrice and I watched “You Got Served” in French on the train. If you’ve never seen you got served, you need to. Not for the extraordinary acting or the impressive dialogue (actually, I have no idea what was being said, seeing as it was in French), but for the predictability and the dancing. Actually, the movie is only watchable because of the dancing. And I already knew what was going to happen before we were 20 minutes into the movie. You know when you watch a movie and there is that one character that is just so sweet and charming? Or it’s an adorable child? They are always marked for death in the movies. Anyways, back to the train. We changed trains in Bordeaux with no problems. The second leg of our journey took us to Toulouse. In my mind, I see Toulouse as the Houston of France. Not because there are any actual similarities, but because when I travel, I always get stuck in Houston, which is reason enough to make me hate it. The same thing happened in Toulouse. We were only an hour and a half from Carcassonne, but we were stuck in Toulouse…for over 3 hours. And we changed trains…3 times. I’m not even kidding. When we got all settled down into one train, we would hear an announcement, “Attention, voyageurs…blah blah blah…your new train is now on track 5”. When we finally squeezed on a train bound for Marseille which would pass through Carcassonne, there weren’t any seats left. So, Beatrice and I hung out and lounged around the luggage rack. Finally, I sat down and squeezed myself into a corner and tried to sleep so that I wouldn’t be in the aisle as people passed us. We finally made it to Carcassonne, where we met Laurent, who had been waiting for us for two hours. He was on vacation with his family in Toulon, and it was much easier for him to meet us in Carcassonne, then to return to Bourcefranc and then voyage south again.
Well, I managed to convince Beatrice and Laurent that our auberge was within walking distance. The map said 2.5 km from the train station, but I think we may have walked a bit more seeing as how we were lost. Mind you, it is already 9 o’clock by this time and we are hungry. So, we stopped at a Chinese restaurant, ate dinner, and continued to follow the maps I had gotten off of Google maps. I should have learned my lesson from my futile attempts to follow Google maps in Poitiers. And on top of all of that, it started to rain. We crossed the Canal du Midi, and stopped and asked for directions every so often. Finally, we crossed the Aude and saw the medieval city of Carcassonne in all her glory on the hill across the river. She was beautiful and I probably would have stopped and stared for an hour or so except that Beatrice and Laurent were cold and wet. Well, we couldn’t really figure out how to get into the city (seeing as how it is a fortress), so we climbed into a catapult and vaulted ourselves over the walls, landing safely in a pile of hay on the other side. Ok, not really, but it would have been fun. We finally found a way into the city, climbing a steep, wet, cobblestoned hill through the outer wall. We now found ourselves in the lists between the two walls. But luckily, we found some Spanish high schoolers who were out playing in the rain and knew where our hostel was. We followed them through winding medieval streets and finally found our auberge! The guy working the front desk was Canadian, so lucky for him; he naturally speaks French and English. Welp, I forgot my passport and Laurent forgot his ID, so the guy used a few special four letter words, and decided to just let us stay even though we forgot our important papers. We quickly found our rooms and went to sleep. Well, tried to go to sleep, but there was an older woman in our room who snored like Satan. But at last I found my way to dreamland.

The next morning, Beatrice took off for Marseille. She was going to try to get a picture and autographs of the Marseille football team for her boyfriend in Martinique for his birthday. Which meant that me and Laurent explored the city all day. We started by walking out of our hostel and discovering that the main chateau, the lord’s residence, was right outside our hostel. How I missed that the night before, I have no idea. Maybe because it was behind a portcullis, who knows? We walked out of the inner city and into the lists, the spaces between the two walls. We climbed all over the walls and I took a bzillion pictures. And I saw the Pyrenees for the first time! They were covered in snow and were absolutely beautiful! But unfortunately, the temperature began to drop. By midmorning, I could no longer feel my hands. I was colder than I’ve ever been…with the exception of Paris and Normandy. Laurent and I paid to visit the ramparts in the inner city. For just 5 Euros, I took a three hour tour of the ramparts and the lord’s manor. It was sublime. Something like that in America, they would charge you an arm and a leg to see. Carcassonne used to be a frontier town between France and Spain. Before that, it was a roman fortress. You can still see the Gallo-Roman walls in some places. While occupied by the count of Trencavel, the pope and the King of France decided to launch a crusade against the Cathar region ( the region in which Carcassonne is found) because their theology was just a little bit different than the official canon of the Catholic church. So, after a long siege, Carcassonne was added into the kingdom of France. It was then turned into the major fortress that you see today. Through the ages, Carcassonne fell into disrepair and ruin, but Viollet-le-duc undertook a huge restoration project in the 19th century to restore Carcassonne to her former glory. Viollet-le-duc is kind of a personal hero of mine. I saw the castle of Pierrefonds that he restored in Northern France, and I also believe that he has restored parts of Versailles. But he certainly had a penchant for gothic architecture, which is fine with me.
After finishing the tour of the ramparts, Laurent and I went and searched for lunch. We ended up eating in a Boulangerie, but since they are my favorite, it was ok with me. Afterwards, we searched for the museum of chevalerie, but we couldn’t find it. Stupid medieval streets and their lack of logic. So, we left the city so that we could take pictures from across the river in the daylight. By this time, it had stopped raining and we enjoyed a leisurely hike down the hill to the river. Also, the temperature had risen considerably, allowing my mood to rise considerably as well. After we had finished exploring, we set about looking for a place to eat…we finally found the museum of chevalerie…but by this time it was closed. And so were all the restaurants. So, we returned to the Boulangerie for dinner. We also met up with Beatrice who had returned from Marseille. Her efforts had not been in vain as she secured free tickets to the match in Marseille next week. We then all went back to the hostel where I took a shower for the first time in two days. (Go ahead and say it…ew.) We then played Uno in the lounge in front of a roaring fire and in the company of other travelers. I love hostels. I love Carcassonne.
The next day was Halloween, and as I didn’t have a chance to celebrate, I could remark to myself with satisfaction that I had at least spent Halloween in a medieval city. We then returned to the train station, by taxi this time, as Beatrice frankly refused to walk again. But it wasn’t expensive, so it was ok. We got on our train without any problems and we were bound for Bordeaux within the hour, skipping the horrible town of Toulouse. At Bordeaux, we had some time before our next train, so we left the station and enjoyed some couscous and kebabs. We then returned to the station where I promptly fell asleep on the train and didn’t stir until we reached Rochefort. Aurelie came and picked us up again (I love her). We were all slightly delirious with tiredness, but it was a most excellent trip. When I returned, I checked my email to discover that I had basketball practice in an hour and they were going to pick me up in half an hour…crap! So, I scarfed a pb&j sandwich and threw on my bball clothes to catch a ride to the local gym for practice. But it was all good, because I got to scrimmage with the boy’s team…yay! It was a lot of fun and I think the only thing that could have induced me to leave my apartment after Carcassonne was basketball. I did manage to take a knee to my inner thigh, however, and consequently am very sore today. But it was worth it. So all in all, a most wonderful trip. Lessons to be learned (I just felt like I should include a moral at the end of a long story such as this, so bear with me).
1. Always bring your passport with you.
2. When you pack for your trip, make sure to bring lots of patience
3. An iPod or earplugs are handy things to bring to hostels
4. Don’t forget your mittens/gloves. I did. I now have two less fingers. Frostbite.

Friends don't let friends live near cemetaries

2008-10-27T03:21:00.000-07:00

So...I had a pretty interesting day yesterday. Beatrice, who also lives in Bourcefranc and was one of the few students to stick around seeing as how her family lives in Martinique, came over to visit. We finalized our plans for going to Carcassonne on Wednesday (oh yeah...I'm going to Carcassonne on Wednesday, a very well preserved medieval town...yay!). We then decided that we were hungry so we walked across town to Buffalo Grill. That's right. It's called Buffalo Grill...in France. And you can wear these awesome paper hats that vaguely resemble indian headdresses. It tries for the whole "American West" vibe...and it actually manages to carry it off for the most part. They even had country music playing. So I ordered an "Arizona Burger" because I haven't eaten beef in a long time and what a burger it was! The beef was less like a burger and more like a steak. Which was fine with me. And I ordered un coca (a coke) which came in a bottle and tasted way better than I remember coke tasting. But anyhoo, after Buffalo Grill, we walked back to Beatrice's apartment. Here we enjoyed some French television. First, we watched Les Simpson (hilarious in french...especially since I've already seen most of the episodes) and then we watched Hellboy...in French. Now, I know that Hellboy is not a scary movie...but if you have a sensitive imagination like mine, the thought of walking a mile home in the dark at midnight after such a movie is not particularly appealing. Especially since Beatrice lives right next to a cemetary. Especially since it is almost Toussaint (all saint's day). In fact, after the movie, we opened up the skylight and looked at the cemetary in the moonlight. We both simultaneously decided that I would be staying the night. We then watched the Naked Chef...that British guy...try to reform school cafeterias in Britain. I fell asleep shortly afterwards and remembered no more. I woke up this morning to the rain. It figures. We could not go so many beautiful days without having a day or two of rain to mar an otherwise perfect streak of weather. So, I borrowed an umbrella and enjoyed a leisurely walk in the rain back to my apartment. I am starting to get too used to this slower pace of life. I'm never going to make it when I go back to America...

Handball is a dangerous and exciting game

2008-10-26T04:53:00.000-07:00

Hello all! I've had a pretty wonderful weekend so far. I am officially on vacation. I know...I just got here, but the French have a delightful two week vacation for All Saint's Day in October. So...after bball practice on Friday, I was invited to go watch a handball match in Saintes the following night. I had my first intro to handball the previous day when I dropped in on the BTS PE class. It's nothing like handball in the US. It's a mix between ultimate frisbee rules played with a mini soccer ball on an indoor court with the physicality of rugby. Frankly, it's lots of fun. So, I woke up on Saturday morning, saw that it was sunny and reasonably warm, so I took a sheet and my ipod out to the courtyard where I basked in the sunshine for a couple of hours. I then biked into town, bought some Orangina (I'm quickly becoming addicted) and returned to have some baguette with camembert with lemon sorbet for dessert. I love french food. I then read Mark Twain for an hour or two, and then it was time to go to the match. So, I caught a ride to Saintes and proceeded to watch my first handball match. We had seats right on the floor and it was fantastic. Very violent and fast paced. I loved it! All the while the fans are crazy. Our side had a drum and the fans were chanting the entire match. "Allez, allez, allez!!" They kept playing snatches of Queen's "we will rock you" and for some reason "cotton-eyed joe". If you want to have a good time, I suggest you listen to a gym full of French people sing along to We will Rock you. It's fantastic. The home team ended up winning. I actually felt kind of sorry for the losing team. I kind of wished they would have won. But if I had voiced those sentiments, I probably would have been skewered on the spot.

After the match, the team went bowling. We didn't begin to bowl until after midnight. These french people stay up so late! Now, I have discovered that I don't particularly enjoy bowling. It hurts my fingers. And the game isn't enjoyable enough for me to want to hurt my fingers...kind of the way I play bball even though it shreds my knees. Also, if you know me, you know that after about 1 in the morning, I shut off. There's an automatic feature that just turns off late at night. Consequently, its difficult to get me to do much...much less speak coherently in another language. So...I was doing decently until about 1 am...then I began to suck extraordinarily. To make a long story short, I didn't get home until 3 am...waaaay too late for me. But it was fun to hang out with the basketball team and get to know them better. As a "welcome to the charente-maritime" they gave me two small bottles of Pineau. Haven't decided what to do with them yet... Anyhoo, as a result of staying up so late, I slept in until noon. I then woke up, showered, and made french toast while listening to Jimmy Eat World. A good morning. And now, I'm going to meet Beatrice and spend the afternoon with her. So...I had better get going! I'll talk to you all soon!

French Middle Schoolers

2008-10-23T06:32:00.000-07:00

I LOVE them! They are so cute! Everyone keeps talking about what terrors they are, and granted, they can talk your ear off...but I just found them so interesting. Today in class, the now requisite question being asked (i.e. Do you have a boyfriend?) I responded with no, "les garcons sont mechants" or "boys are mean". And one adorable little red haired boy (you know how I'm a sucker for them red-headed kids) immediately responded with "certains garcons!" or "only certain boys!" He was so cute! All that to say, I enjoy the middle schoolers!
As an afterthought, I have posted a new album on facebook. The link to view it is here:
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2030193&l=42edc&id=64300928
Hope to hear from you all soon!

A Most Loverly Weekend

2008-10-20T07:45:00.000-07:00

The weather once again was beautiful this weekend (a little bit more chilly than the sunshine would lead you to believe, but still good) which meant that I spent most of the weekend outdoors...which I love to do! After my excursion into the tidepools on Friday, I had basketball with the local club to look forward to. I was a bit apprehensive at first, wondering if they were going to let me play, but my fears were laid to rest the instant I entered the gym. Apparently, the club is for women of all ages over 17, so there were many mothers and daughters on the team. Also, I have many of these daughters in my classes and they have been talking me up to their mothers...which allowed these women to recognize me immediately as "l'americaine" and welcome me. Which was a great relief to me. Anyhoo, I haven't practiced in such an organized fashion since high school...running plays, zone defense...it brings back so many memories! It also showed me that I am miserably out of shape. Anyhoo, afterwards, the women invited me to watch the men's game in Marennes the following night. Christelle offered to pick me up and everything! I love this town! Maybe I'm just used to Californians...who aren't the nicest people in the world, but the people here have been soo nice! Anyhoo, since practice didn't start until 9 o'clock, and didn't finish until 11...I fell asleep immediately after my shower. How do these French people do this? They eat at 8 or 9 and are awake for forever! I'm hungry by 5 and I have to snack if I'm eating with a family otherwise, I'll never make it to dinner. On Saturday, Laurent came over to ride bikes with me. He brought his laptop and we compared our tastes in music, which are pretty similar. We rode our bikes through Bourcefranc...but first we had to stop at the supermarche because he was hungry. And what did he buy? cookies. I swear, some guys would never make it if they didn't have mothers or wives to take care of them. From there we rode down to the "beach" of Bourcefranc...which at low tide is more like a mud flat. We then rode to Fort Louvois, hoping it would be low tide so that we could finally cross over to the fort, but no such luck. He came over afterwards and we played Uno...Laurent has never heard of beginner's luck. He lost nearly every game. I fixed mexican food for dinner (well, as close to mexican food as I can find in French grocery stores...which is a bit of a stretch), but it was Laurent's first encounter with it and he liked it pretty well. But he refused to eat either the guacamole or the salsa. I say if I have to eat Langoustines, he can try some guacamole. It is interesting hanging out with Laurent because he speaks very little English, which means that I speak lots of French...which is good...but at the same time sometimes we are utterly unable to explain to one another what we are trying to explain. Afterwards, I was picked up by Christelle to go watch the game in Marennes.

Well, I wouldn't say the French are the best basketball players ever, but I give them credit for trying. It was fun to watch. Their rules are a little bit different from ours. They go into double bonus immediately following the 5th foul...instead of one and one following the seventh foul and double bonus following the 10th foul. So, that was a little weird for me. It's been a little difficult picking up the new vocabulaire of basketball. They still use the words "shoot" and "dribble" but for the most part, all the names are different. Man defense is "individuel" and the backboard is a "panneau". A foul is a "faute" and the basket is a "panier". It's difficult to communicate with my teammates, but I'm starting to catch on. Immediately after the game, the team and its supporters broke out the food. Seriously, they had a mini feast in the gym following the game with wine and pizza (only in france) and lots of other things. The feast started around 11 or so...I was already sleepy. Anyhoo, I found out that they do not have a mini feast after every game...it just happened to be someone's birthday. For which I was grateful, for if there was a big meal after every game, I might be sick. I don't like to eat that late. When I got home well after midnight, I immediately crashed.

Sunday was a perfect day, weather-wise. I woke up and decided to go for a bike ride to find my way to Marennes, the local town where I will be teaching starting tomorrow. There are supposedly some "piste cyclable" or bicycle paths as you are not allowed to cycle alongside the main road. It is my firm belief that these cycling paths are a myth. I biked for three hours and could find no evidence that they existed. And seriously, I biked in each of the four directions from my apartment. I can see the cathedrale spire in Marennes...I just can't get there! So, first I went east, and hit a dead end in a small industrial patch. I then biked south, and found the fabled beach of Marennes...I'll return there at some other time. From there I went west over the bridge to the Ile D'Oleron...got half way across that wickely long bridge and saw that it was low tide and the causeway to Fort Louvois was now exposed. So, I turned around, biked into Bourcefranc le chapu and crossed the submersible causeway to Fort Louvois. I didn't have my camera on me, but the satisfaction I felt at finally having been able to walk up to the steps of the fort was immeasurable. After all this biking, I returned to my apartment where I promptly fell asleep for 2 hours. I had a loverly conversation with Katherine on skype for 2 hours and then later that evening, after spending 2 hours updating my itunes library, I called my sister and was finally able to talk to her. So, all in all, a most loverly weekend.

Field Trip!

2008-10-17T10:28:00.001-07:00

Hello again! So today I had the opportunity to go on a "field trip" with the BTS students. Basically, they loaned me a pair of galoshes and we went galumphing through the low tide looking for all manner of sea creatures. It was a lot of fun. Low tide in this region of France is truly a low tide. We walked about a half a mile away from the beach out into the marshy seaweed-y tidepool like low tide area. At first it was horribly cold, but as we started walking, we began to warm up. It didn't hurt that the wind stopped blowing about half way through. I was sure that I was going to slip and fall, but I was lucky. We found all sorts of things...crabs (at least 5 different species), starfish, chitons, snails, limpets, slugs (ew), worms, oysters, barnacles, mussels, sponges, and a squid! The squid was pretty cool. When you touched it, it changed color to camoflouge with your hand. All the students had buckets. Which meant that there were many crabs harbored against their will. I was very fearful that I was going to wind up with a crab in my hair courtesy of one of my students from the whispered conversations and gleeful expressions I observed. Luckily, the professor checked all the buckets and made them put the crabs back. These students study fish farming and all sorts of things having to do with the ocean, so this trip was like Disneyland for them. The teacher had to keep yelling at them to put down the rocks, crabs, squid, or whatever else they were chasing and rejoin the group for the lecture. Afterwards, we returned to the shore and enjoyed a picnic lunch. It was very enjoyable. Especially since I got out of teaching today. Tee hee...
Like I've said, most of the BTS students are close to my age, so it was fun getting to know them and start to make some friends that aren't teachers. Beatrice, one of the girls, has lived in Martinique most of her life. Understandably, she finds France very cold. I've asked her to go to Carcassonne with me for La Toussaint...the week and a half break that is coming up in a week. Also, Laurent might join us. Laurent is going to bring his bike over tomorrow and we are going to take a bike ride. I hope I will finally discover the elusive bike trails that everyone keeps talking about. And tonight, I'm going to play basketball! Which means, that I should probably get going...talk to you all soon!

Oh la la La Rochelle

2008-10-17T06:09:00.000-07:00

Welp, I'm back again from another marvelous adventure...well...not so marvelous. All I did was go to the doctor's...but it was in La Rochelle...which is marvelous. Since, my appointment was at 9:30 in La Rochelle, I had to leave Bourcefranc by the 6:30 bus which took me to Rochefort where I took the train to La Rochelle. I arrived in La Rochelle before the sun did, seeing as how the sun doesn't come up until after 8 o'clock here in France. I walked to the Old Port, these massive towers that flank the entrance to the harbor. They are amazing! But I didn't get to go in seeing as how I arrived in La Rochelle before even the sparrows were awake. But I am definitely planning on going back. I finally found the doctor's office (don't worry...I'm not sick...You have to get a notice from the doctor saying that you are disease free before you can get your visa.) A little bit of awkwardness ensued...namely the french make you take a chest xray...and they don't give you anything to cover up with. Glad that's over with. Anyhoo, I met another assistant, Amelia, and we went shopping! La Rochelle has an Etam...my favorite store ever! La Rochelle also has a Galleries Lafayette (big french department store...come to think of it...the French invented department stores. Read "Ladies Paradise" by Emile Zola.) I was able to finally buy some lotion, because nowhere in the whole of Bourcefranc do they sell lotion. I've been looking for weeks. There were things that vaguely resembled lotion...but as I wasn't completely sure what they were, I refrained from buying them. Anyhoo, Amelia and I walked back to the old port and then we had lunch at a cafe. It was very relaxing. I decided to go back early, so I left Amelia and went back to the train station. I barely got on my train in time and I was on my way back to Rochefort to catch the bus back to Bourcefranc. Well, if you recall, I met a weird guy last time I was waiting for the bus. Welp, I met an even stranger one this time. He was openly staring at me as I tried to find out which bus to take. He then followed me to the bus stop, sat down next to me and offered me a cigarette. I declined and then he proceeded to light up less than a foot away. Did it enter his head that I might have declined because I dislike cigarette smoke in my immediate vicinity? I think not. Anyways, I tried to pull the "I don't speak french" card, but my accent is starting to get too good. It never works anymore. So...this crazy (did I mention he had a very scary unibrow...nothing against unibrows...but this one was worthy of praise) tried to carry on conversation with me for 30 minutes or so. Apparently we were waiting for the same bus. It wasn't coming, so he said something to the effect of "venez" and "chez moi" which means something like "would you like to come to my house?" Heck no! I told him that I would wait here for the bus come hell or high water. well...not exactly...but that's what I was saying inside. Well...this kind old lady took "la petite americaine" to another bus stop where I was able to finally catch the bus. I then had a pleasant conversation with the bus driver for an hour or so as I was the only person on the bus. So...all's well that ends well. But I am definitely returning to La Rochelle...so much history! Just think...Cardinal Richelieu was there! And so were the three musketeers! (I know...they're fictional...but La Rochelle is not!) So...until next time! Look for another blog coming soon about my excursion into the tidepools...well...more like our half mile hike into the low tide zone.

More Adventures in Teaching...

2008-10-15T00:57:00.000-07:00

So...all this week I've been doing an exercise in class where I write three sentences on the board, two of which are true, and one of which is false. The kids are supposed to figure out which one is false. I tell them that I am going to lie to them and then I proceed to do so. My sentences are fairly straight forward.
1. I have broken 5 bones.
2. I have won the school spelling bee...twice.
3. I hate monkeys. They are ugly.
If you know me, you should know which one is false. Anyhoo, after the kids figure out which one is false, I have them write their own three sentences. And let me tell you...some interesting class periods have resulted. Yesterday, a kid wrote these three sentences.
1. I love my brother.
2. I love to surf.
3. I love my bed.
Now guess which one was false? That's right. Number 1. Today, the game got dangerous. The first girl who went up wrote,
1. I love giraffes. They are tall.
2. I love girls. I am bisexual.
3. I have broken 2 bones.
I thought, oh please God, let number 2 be false. I've already seen one of my female students kissing another girl around the back of the school. So another student asked, "When you kiss a girl, it is good?" At this point, the girl burst into hysterical giggling, which instantly reassured me that number 2 was false. Phew. The second girl to go write her sentences on the board was the first girl's friend. She wrote,
1. I love babies. They are cute.
2. I'm bad. Very, very bad.
3. I'm pregnant.
Oh holy crap weasels! If number 1 is false and she hates babies, yet is pregnant...the only way that this could turn out good is if number 3 is false. Which luckily it was. But oh the directions an activity can go in which you did not anticipate going. Never a dull day in a French high school.

Rochefort

2008-10-13T01:20:00.000-07:00

Well hello again everyone! I passed a very wonderful weekend in Rochefort and I thought I'd share with you all how much fun I had! One of the teachers in my school, Gwenael, invited me home for the weekend with his family in Rochefort, a neighboring town about 30 kilometers away. Rochefort is inland a ways, but it lies on the Charente, the major river in the region (the region is named the Charente-Maritime). The Charente connects to the ocean. So, Rochefort was an important military arsenal and shipyard during the 17th and 18th centuries when the French were fighting the British (when were the french not fighting the british?). The entrance to the Charente is guarded by several forts in the channel between the Ile d'oleron (the island off the coast) and the mainland. So...I met Gwenael at the bus stop to go to a french market. These occur once or twice a week, and all the producers from a weekend converge and sell their produce. The market in Rochefort is particularly reknowned. We then met Gwenael's family, his wife Dominique, and his three daughters, Emma, Angele, and Apolline. They were so cute! Aged 8, 6, and 3...I had so much fun this weekend! Anyhoo, we walked around Rochefort together and I took all the requisite pictures...I particularly was struck by one church in particular...I'll put up pics later. We then went down to the corderie, a building in which they used to make ropes for ships...is a very, very long building so that the rope could be stretched out and wound up and all sorts of other things you do with rope when making it. Later that afternoon, Gwen and I took a tour of the Hermione (pronounced air-me-own in french, not her-my-own-knee, harry potter fans). The Hermione is a historic ship that they are reconstructing. It was amazing! The Hermione was General Lafayette's flagship, the one he took to America when helping us in the American Revolution. This ship was beautiful...a frigate, with three masts, entirely in oak and pine. It was huge! Nearly the size of the Star of India...much bigger than the Bounty or the Surprise. They have just finished the middle level...which is historically accurate in size...meaning you have to hunch over like Igor just to move about. They started building in 1998, and they expect to finish in 2011...they will then sail to Boston, just as Lafayette did. She will return to Rochefort and will become a floating museum. Sigh...it was so beautiful...what I wouldn't give to sail on her maiden voyage!
After the Hermione, We met the rest of the family for a ride on the Pont Transbordeur. I guess there are only 8 of these types of bridges left in the world. This bridge was built in the 1900s to solve the problem of tall ships not being able to fit under a standard bridge. So, they built two tall steel towers, suspended cables between them, and engineered a ferry that crossed the river suspended from cables. It was pretty cool. We then went back home for dinner, which was amazing. Quiche Lorraine...with fresh strawberries for dessert...mmmm....
Sunday morning we were going to go the musee de beaux arts, but it was closed, so we took a walk around the old arsenal instead. After our walk, we returned for Sunday lunch...my favorite thing in the world! It was sooooo good! They didn't make me eat salad! Yay! We had duck with roasted apples...mmmm...and potatoes of some sort too. We also had pate for an appetizer. For dessert, after the cheese course of course, we had fruit salad with some delectable french biscuit that melted in your mouth. I adore Sunday Dinners in France! Afterwards, the girls played me in Mario Kart on the Wii and spanked me. Of course they would put it on the hardest level and laugh hysterically everytime I fell off the course...oh well. Gwen and his wife lent me several "bandes dessinees"...or french comics. The tradition of reading comics in France is very healthy, very much like the Japanese read manga. So, now I've been reading French comics for the past couple of days. They're actually pretty hard! But its a good way to improve my french. Well, I've probably rattled on long enough...and I'm hungry, so I will talk to you all soon!

Praise be to God!

2008-10-10T03:22:00.000-07:00

I HAVE HOT WATER IN MY APARTMENT!!! FINALLY!!!
...I also was able to finally play some basketball!!
....and i finally opened the jam jar i had been trying to open for four days....

Teaching...is a blast!

2008-10-09T04:21:00.000-07:00

So...I'm half way through my first week of teaching. Some classes have been angelic, while others have been less so. All in all, I've had a lot of fun so far and I laugh at the students...a lot. I have had them ask me the strangest questions. Once, near the end of class, a girl raised her hand and asked me if I had children. WHAT? I've also had nearly every class ask if I had a boyfriend. Nosy little blighters... I get the feeling that once I answer in the negative, they all look at me slightly condescendingly. Today, I had the post graduate students and they were my favorite by far. I laugh to myself so much when I remember the class. They were very dismayed that I made them speak in English. One guy in the back kept talking in French no matter how many times I told him not to. Another teacher came in half way through and the guy in the back yelled, "Parlez en anglais!" or "Speak in English!" I found this ironic as he yelled it in French. One guy asked what Americans thought of French people. I said that they thought the French didn't like Americans and when I asked him if he liked Americans, he said "no." My favorite answer by far, when I asked them what they liked to do for fun came from one of they guys. His answer? Sex. What do you say to that? "Erm...that's nice?" Oh these crazy french kids...

The Calm before the Storm...

2008-10-06T06:18:00.001-07:00

Le 5 Octobre 2008
Tomorrow is my first day of teaching…aaahhh!!!! Actually, I’m not that nervous. I get the sneaky suspicion that I should be much more nervous, but if I pretend to be nervous, maybe there will be no last minute real nerves. I hope you were able to follow that line of thought. Anyhoo, this weekend was lots of fun, in a relaxing sort of way. The weather was very windy and rainy, so I haven’t been much inclined to outdoor activity. I returned from orientation on Thursday after an hour long train ride followed by an intolerably 2 hour long bus ride where a strange man decided to make friends with me and wouldn’t leave me alone. I humored him for a small while and then spent the rest of the bus ride studiously staring out of the window or forcing myself to read, all the while feeling that his eyes were on me just waiting for an opportunity to once again point out that I could eat once I had arrived in Bourcefranc. I think he got the hint after a while as he turned very sulky. Better sulky than strangely eager to talk to me. When I got back to my apartment, there was still no hot water and there was a puddle of water under the water heater. I called Malika and left a message about the water situation and then went to use the computers in the teacher’s lounge. On my way out, I saw Pierre (Malika’s husband) descending from my apartment with what was apparently the maintenance guy. This was around 9 at night. Well, they couldn’t get the water heater going, so Pierre took me home (Malika’s home feels so much like home to me…its going to be hard to leave…other than the fact that I sometimes have to find excuses to leave the room when Pierre lights up a cigarette), where I have spent the rest of the weekend.
Friday night was interesting as I witnessed the launch and christening of a new boat, the Prana. Friends of Pierre and Malika have apparently been working on this 50 foot sailboat for over 3 years and are planning on sailing across the Atlantic to Brazil. Many friends had gathered and it was actually pretty exciting to watch them maneuver this massive boat into the water. They had rigged up a bottle of champagne to a line that hung from the top of the mast, and were all ready to smash it when the ladies in the audience started protesting that a lady needed to break the bottle. Well, the lady they chose was having some…er…technical difficulties, shall we say? She didn’t manage to break the bottle on the first two tries and the third try…I smile at the recollection. The rope wrapped three times around a free standing metal post and smashed…missing the boat completely. It was sublime.
I’ve been on a bit of a reading kick since returning from Poitiers. I discovered that Malika has a rather large cache of English books, and so I’ve read both Bridget Jones’ Diary and its sequel…in the space of two days. I find that subconsciously, I think much like Bridget and am very tempted to keep journal at all times, but would accomplish nothing. Am in a very pro-British mood at the moment. Or was…until I watched the Patriot in French with Pierre and remembered that we fought them and they have bad teeth. I also finished Gunslinger. It annoyed me in the way that science fiction novels do in that they don’t really have to have an ultimate objective…they can just be lost in space for 27,000 novels and never make it home. Interesting concept, but too many loose ends.
Today was Sunday, which in France means lovely, delicious Sunday lunch with all the family. I have now participated in two of these and they are absolutely fantastic. This time, we went to Malika’s mother’s home. A lot of extended family was there and we all sat down to a table that to me felt something like a French thanksgiving. Mind you, they do this every Sunday. There are always appetizers to start off the meal, bread and pate, cucumber salad, beets (I actually liked them…I despise beets in America…), bread, radishes, Oysters, bread…they made me try wine again and I decidedly do not like it. Then they bring out the main course…today it was duck and potatoes with salad. Malika made me eat salad. I tried to refuse. Oh well…I lived. And then we have dessert, which was plum tart today. All the while, everyone is squabbling in French all trying to talk over one another. I’ve noticed in France, that nobody waits for the other person to finish before speaking; they all jump in and are talking at the same time. How anybody understands anything is beyond me…I certainly understand very little at meal times. I should probably get going and attempt to figure out what I will be doing in class tomorrow. Hopefully I’ll have hot water tomorrow!

Adventures in Aquitaine...more like Poitiers...but Eleanor of Aquitaine DID live there...

2008-10-06T06:13:00.001-07:00

Le 1er Octobre 2008
Well, here I am in the “ville aux cent clochers”…that is to say…Poitiers. I have orientation tomorrow, so I am currently holed up at the hotel central. It’s not bad, really. For 45 euro, I have my own room with a shower AND toilet…That’s something to be excited about, especially in Europe. I must say that is decidedly more peaceful than a hostel. Actually, the hostel was full, so I didn’t have much of a choice. I kept scanning the crowds today, hoping to spot some other assistants, but I only heard English once…and they turned out to not be assistants. There is some kind of festival going on in Poitiers today. I think it’s the festival les Expressifs…haven’t really figured out what they are celebrating yet… They have a circus tent set up in the middle of the centre-ville right next to hotel de ville (the city center and the mayor’s office). Of course, my hotel would be located in the centre ville, so I’m hearing lots of festivities. I ducked into the tent for a moment to enjoy a song or two, but there was enough smoke in there to create a fantastic, hazy lighting effect for the musicians. When I came out, I could see the cigarette smoke issuing out in plumes…well, maybe not quite plumes, but you get the picture. Well, let’s start with the beginning of my very long day, shall we? I stayed at Malika’s again because for some reason there is no hot water in my apartment. I had more adventures in dining…this time I tried Scallop (surprisingly good) and cooked oysters. I still don’t like them. The first time, Malika had me try them, they were raw. I think if I had known this, I couldn’t have eaten them. They tasted like a big gulp of seawater to me. Delicious. Of all the shellfish I’ve tried, cooked scallops and mussels are the best. Oysters, I’m sorry, guys, but you just don’t make the cut. I’ve also tried rabbit since coming. The first time I saw rabbit being sold in the grocery store, I thought they were cats! They are sold skinless…which means they don’t have their cute bunny ear s anymore. It wasn’t too bad at all. I vastly prefer rabbit to shellfish. What else has Malika made me try? Langoustines. They are a mix between lobster, crayfish, and shrimp. They frighten me. Malika just boiled them a bit and handed me a langoustine. What was I supposed to do with it? So she ripped its body to pieces and handed me a smidge of meat from what I supposed was the tail. Pas mal (not bad). She then proceeded to eat the mush out of the head cavity. That, I could not do. Anyhoo, back to Poitiers.
It just hit 8 o’clock and I heard the chime from a bell tower. Poitiers is truly the city of 100 bell towers. Malika dropped me off the high school this morning just in time to catch the bust to Surgeres. There is absolutely nothing in Surgeres other than a train station. (Just heard another bell tower chime the hour). From Surgeres, I took the TGV (train a grande vitesse…a.k.a. very fast train…or VFT) to Poitiers. Poitiers is a VERY old city situated on a tall hill in between two rivers. So, I climbed a million stairs to the heart of the city and was able to find my hotel without any problems. All this accomplished by noon. What to do with myself now? Explore, of course! I timed how long it would take me to get to the CRDP (the place of orientation) and then I continued to follow signs along windy medieval streets that pointed out the direction of a museum. Along the way, I found something even better…cathedrales! I love cathedrales…oops…I think I spelled that the French way…oh well. The first church was truly remarkable for its age. The Baptistery of Saint-Jean was built in the 4th century…so old!!! I guess it’s one of the few remaining early Christian sites in Europe (pulled that line straight from a brochure). Of course, it was renovated in the 12th and 13th centuries…otherwise it might just be a pile of rubble. The next church, very close to the first, was the Cathedrale Saint-Pierre. It was my favorite by far. Built in the 12th and 13th centuries, and probably founded in part by Eleanor of Aquitaine, it was a beautiful Gothic cathedral. What beckoned me in, however, was the organ music drifting out of the church. I didn’t have to be asked twice to be out of the rain and into the Cathedral. The nice thing about catholic churches in Europe is that they are always open. You can waltz in whenever you feel like it. Cathedrale de Saint-Pierre is beautiful and full of light…so different from the dreary Notre Dame de Paris. True, Notre Dame de Paris and Chartres are much bigger Cathedrals, but Saint-Pierre’s vaulted ceilings draw your eyes toward heaven, just as they were meant to. After spending a very long time in Saint-Pierre, I set out looking for Notre-Dame-la-grande, Poitiers’ most notable church. Welp, to make a long story short, I got lost. I guess I had passed Notre Dame without even realizing it. I was expecting a much bigger church than Saint-Pierre, but it was just the opposite. Notre Dame la Grande precedes Saint-Pierre. It has the understated, but no less grand architecture of the Romanesque period. The interesting part of Notre Dame la Grande, is that she has no windows in her nave, making her decidedly darker and much more mysterious than Saint-Pierre. All of the walls and pillars were repainted in the 19th century, giving this church much more color than the stately stone of many other cathedrales. Most cathedrales were originally painted…inside and out. Can you imagine all the stonework on the outside of Notre Dame de Paris being painted different colors? You can still see the paint in the crevices of stone on many cathedrales. Disney did history a grave disservice by portraying the cathedral as having no color in the Hunchback of Notre Dame.
Having finished with Notre Dame la Grande, and deciding that the map I had was largely useless in a medieval city, I got lost again. I eventually found my way back to my hotel, where I watched some very entertaining French game shows. The French version of Wheel of Fortune is way more fun than ours…Vanna dances…and the host is lecherous. Having finished Persuasion (Jane Austen) on the train ride, I decided to see if I could find any books in English at the numerous book shops, knowing full well that it was only a matter of time until I lacked reading material. Poitiers is a university town, so I was able to find quite a few English books. Namely, a Steven King sci-fi (Gunslinger), Kim by Rudyard Kipling, Tom Sawyer and Huckleberry Finn (I’ve read ‘em already, but I’ve always liked ‘em.), and the Red Badge of Courage, which I’ve also already read. I’ve also got Northanger Abbey and a Louis L’amour western. I should be good for a month. Hopefully. If you have any books you feel like sending my way, I would welcome them exceedingly. I’ve probably written more than enough at one go, but I know that if I don’t write everything down pretty nearly after it has happened, I lose most of my first impressions which are so much fun for me to read later on. Anyhoo, time to start winding down in preparation for tomorrow…A demain!

First Impressions

2008-10-04T02:05:00.000-07:00

Le 25 Septembre 2008
I have arrived! Thank heavens, Malika found me at the station! I slept pretty much the entire train ride. I managed to get all of my suitcases off of the train and Malika found me before I had even decided what to do next. She took me home to her family, fed me, and put me up in her daughter’s room. While Malika speaks English, her husband, Pierre, and son, Valentin, do not. So, I must speak French around them. It is difficult at times, but it is getting easier already. In fact, Malika and I slip in between French and English so often that sometimes I forget which one we are speaking. Malika’s home is everything that a house should be. Made of stone with teal shutters on the windows, surrounded by vineyards…I love it. She has two cats Paquerette ( a type of flower that blooms at Easter) and Plume (feather)….they call him Plumo because he is so fat. A third cat, Pistache (pistachio) lives with her mother. I should have known that Malika would be a cat person. I love her family! They also have a huge dog, Pongo. I think tomorrow, that I shall take a walk with Pongo through the vineyards. Today, Malika took me to the lycee (high school) and the college (middle school…I know it’s confusing…bear with me). Everyone is so nice! At the college, one of the English teacher, Claire, is particularly amiable. I hope I am able to make some good friends. It looks like I’ll be living in an apartment at the school…God must be looking out for me because it is perfect! It has 3 bedrooms (I don’t need three bedrooms!), a kitchen, a dining room, bathroom…it’s huge! It’s on the deuxieme etage…which is the second story in France but the third story in America. It’s kind of a winding staircase that reminds me of a tower. In fact, the whole apartment reminds me of a castle tower…it even has a balcony. Plus it is located at the school so I don’t have to pay extra transportation to get to work! And here’s the best part…it’s FREE! Can you say wow? It’s the only thing I could say. It even has a washing machine so no having to haul my laundry on a bus across town to a Laundromat. C’est incroyable! To see some pics I posted on Facebook...follow this link here...http://www.new.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2029604&l=11db6&id=64300928
Hmm…what else did I do today? On the way home from the school, Malika stopped at the beach. She lives on the Ile D’oleron…an island just off the coast of Bourcefranc. It was beautiful. Much different than a California beach, even though it was still the west coast…of France. It reminded me of beaches in Oregon. Lots of grasses and dunes. When we got home, I taught Valentin how to play Uno. He’s only 11, but he caught on so quickly. Fact of the matter is…he skunked me. But I beat him in the end. Malika made crepes for dinner and afterwards Paquerette cuddled in my lap. I have so many snags in my jeans from where she’s been kneading! Of course, I’ve been made to drink wine already. It’s difficult to refuse when you are staying in someone’s home. My first night here, they had me try Pineau…it’s the wine made on the island. It was a sweet white wine, but I just can’t stand how it burns! Last night, we had cider with dinner. Cider in France is alcoholic, not sweet, and carbonated. Think gross Martinelli’s. Oh well. Maybe I’ll develop a taste for it. Maybe. A Demain!

Arrival...

2008-10-04T02:02:00.000-07:00

I know this is well over a week late...but I had no internet connection...so...for your reading pleasure, my thoughts, direct from my journal...

Le 24 Septembre 2008
So, for all intents and purposes, it appears that I am stranded at Gare Montparnasse in Paris, France. Well, at least for the next hour or so… I have been traveling for nigh on 24 hours and I am trying desperately to stay awake. I woke up at 4:15 am, California time. Alli drove me to the airport and I was checked in and waiting for my plane by 6:15 am. We left at 8:05 am. I can honestly say that was one of the more enjoyable flights I have ever flown. I had a window seat and was seated next to a nice elderly couple. The woman proceeded to list every cruise that she and her husband had ever been on, but she stopped before my eyes started to glaze over. After landing in Dulles, I had a nice leisurely stroll to the other side of the terminal where I arrived just in time to board my next flight. I managed to sleep a good deal on this flight, which was good considering we landed in Paris at 6:36 am! I also managed to finish Inkheart. Except now that I’ve finished, I want to read Inkspell and Inkdeath, the sequels…but they’re at home! The third book in the Eragon trilogy comes out in a couple of days…I think it’s called Brisingr, but I suppose I would have to read Eldest, the sequel to Eragon, before I get to Book 3. Anyhoo, back to France.
After going through immigration and baggage claim (not to mention meeting 4 other assistants on the same flight bound for different regions!) I located the 15 euro bus that would take me to Gare Montparnasse directly so that I wouldn’t have to take the metro. Besides, it appears that metro workers are on strike (again) and some of the lines are down. So, what should have taken maybe an hour max stretched into three wretched hours on a bus, because of an accident on the freeway, time I had not planned on spending stuck on a French freeway somewhere in-between Charles de Gaulle and Paris. So, I ended up missing the first train out of Montparnasse to La Rochelle by minutes. That was at 10:40 am. It is now 1:36 pm and my train does not leave until 2:45 pm. So, I’ve been sitting here in the station surrounded by my luggage, wanting nothing more than to go to sleep. It’s rather hard to be cheerful when one is tired. So far, I’ve been able to buy tickets and ask questions when I’ve been lost and nobody has asked me to repeat myself, which I guess means that my French is pretty decent. When I first arrived at the station, I was hauling my 2 big pieces of checked luggage, plus my 2 carry-ons…needless to say it was difficult to maneuver. I knew I had to do a few things right away once I arrived at the station and I knew they would be difficult with luggage to haul around. 1.) had to pee. 2.) needed to buy a ticket. 3.) needed to find an ATM and get Euros. 4.) had to call home and my contact Malika. 5.) MUST EAT! This is what actually happened…I walked into Montparnasse and was like, “Holy crap, Lauren! What do I do now? I’ve got to act like a grown-up…no adult to tell me what to do…this sucks…” So, I went up to the ticket counter and managed to purchase my discount youth card for the trains and a ticket to La Rochelle…for a train 4 hours later… Objective 2 taken care of…even if the guy who sold me the ticket got a kick out of learning how to say “Lauren Kay” instead of “Laure Ka-i?”. From there I called home and woke my parents up at 2 am…I felt some satisfaction in this…if I wasn’t allowed to sleep, why should they? I then tried to call my contact, Malika…the number didn’t work. I’ve since tried every possible way of getting a hold of her, but no dice. I tried the wifi in the station, but you have to have an account with a French internet provider to access it. So, I can’t even email Malika and tell her what time my train comes in! So, I’m praying that God will work everything out…otherwise I might be staying in La Rochelle. Back to the list!
On my way to the restrooms, I noticed luggage lockers. At this point I was fed up with hauling around my suitcases, so I decided I would cough up 10 euro to store them for an hour or so. Once I had stowed them, you needed 10 Euros in change to lock them. I said screw it and left my luggage in an unlocked locker and set out in search of the restroom. Once I found it, I rediscovered that restrooms cost money in France. So, I trekked back up the stairs to an ATM, got some Euros, attempted to pay for luggage lockers a second time, but they couldn’t break a 50. Having said screw it a second time, I walked into Columbus café and bought a sandwich, where I got some change. I was then finally able to walk back downstairs to the restroom. Unable to locate a drinking fountain, I filled up my water bottle in the bathroom sink. I am so beyond caring at this point in time. After the restroom, I sat down and ate half of my sandwich while the dirty Parisian pigeons molested me. Why there are pigeons INSIDE the train station, I do not know. I decided to go recover my luggage before someone could steal it (keep in mind, to get into the luggage area, you had to go through security. This was my 4th or 5th time through…I’m sure the luggage guy thought I was nuts…). Luckily, no one had taken my luggage, so I hauled it back upstairs to the waiting are where I have been ever since. Did I mention that most of the pigeons in this station are missing toes? One in particular, has no toes at all…just stumps. I have dubbed him Stumpy. It’s slightly disconcerting all the same. I must admit that I’ve felt like crying once or twice since I’ve arrived in Montparnasse, but I’ll chalk it up to exhaustion. Anyways, I’ve managed to kill a good 45 minutes or so and now the only thing left to do is stay awake until I get on the train! Talk to you all soon!

I'm Alive!

2008-09-29T00:45:00.000-07:00

Hello Everyone! Welp, I'm here, I'm safe and I'm loving it. Internet is kinda sketch at the moment, so I promise I will upload all the blogs that are hiding in my laptop once I figure out how to get internet connection. But thanks for all the prayers, well-wishing, and so on and so forth. I've got some great stories coming up, so hopefully, they'll be up in a few days! Talk to you all soon!

It's finally here!

2008-09-22T15:46:00.000-07:00

Welp, it looks like I'm leaving tomorrow! After months and months of applications, waiting, planning, waiting, hoping, and more waiting...I'm finally going! Everyone keeps asking me if I'm getting excited/nervous...and the answer is...I really don't know! I don't even know how to categorize what I'm feeling! On one hand it feels perfectly natural, like its something I've always planned on doing...on the other hand, I'm wondering what the heck I am doing! I guess my biggest concern right now is how I'm going to haul my luggage around Paris without dying. I leave San Diego early tomorrow morning with a stop in D.C. I then fly overnight to Paris where I'll arrive at 6:55 in the morning...earlier than I've willingly arisen in over a year. From there, after customs and baggage claim and so on and so forth, I must take either the metro or the bus to Gare Montparnasse...the only train station in Paris that runs trains out to the Poitiers region. This is the tricky part where I must juggle two suitcases, and a laptop bag through crowded Parisian public transportation. From there I'll take a 4 hour train ride to arrive in La Rochelle where hopefully I'll be picked up by a woman from my school, Malika. I have no idea what she looks like...so....this should be interesting. Anyways, from there I'm supposed to stay with Malika for a few days while I become accustomed to my surroundings and from there it looks like I might be moving into the school dorms. I'm pretty excited about the dorms actually because a.) cheapest housing b.) reduced transportation costs c.) free internet. So, I guess all this to say that I would appreciate everyone's prayers as I make my way into the unknown. God Bless and my next update will be from France! Hope to hear from you all soon!

Countdown!

2008-09-15T22:09:00.000-07:00

Hello Everyone!
Well, this is my first ever attempt at keeping a blog, but I figured it was a convenient way for me to keep everyone updated on my life in France for the next seven months. This way I can share pictures and stories with all of my friends and family so you can all experience a little of what I'll be experiencing.
That being said...I leave in a week! I am not even remotely prepared to leave. I mean...I've pulled the suitcases out of the closet...but that's as far as I've gotten. I'm supposed to drive home tomorrow with a lot of my apartment packed up in my car...but it hasn't happened yet. Anyhoo, I will strive to keep everyone updated as I prepare for this next adventure! Please feel free to comment and let me know how you are all doing!