Little Vacation

Dijon has a funny way of doing things. One, they begin to put up Christmas decorations in October (and as all of us Americans know, that is strictly not allowed until after Thanksgiving...of course the French don't have Thanksgiving, but still...October?). Two, they give us funny breaks, like November 1st. Quite random. So I have a four day weekend (no classes on friday either) to, well, explore. I'll be walking around Dijon, going to see some movies, drinking hot chocolate in cafes, and whatnot. Some friends are going to Switzerland for the long weekend, but since I'm planning to do that in February, I decided to remain here in lovely, chilly, Dijon. Starting tomorrow, there is a huge gastronomical fair, where you can go and taste-test and learn all about different kinds of food. Also tomorrow, there is a bike race in the countryside, so I'm going to check it out with my friend who lives right by there. His host parents are also not here this weekend, so we will be doing some cooking at his house...pancakes anyone? Saturday, I might be going to Paris for the day. Each Saturday it's only 15 Euro to go to and from Paris, leaving at 6am and coming back around 7. Not too shabby of a deal!

I'm thinking of you all! I can't believe that Christmas is creeping up on me. And because I'm going to Italy at the end of November, and then Strasbourg middle of December, the 20th (the date of my flight back to the States) is going to fly by. It seems like I've been living in France for a century, yet at the same time it seems like 2 months have flown by!

Love, Katelyn

PS. Today I saw a four-fingered man in the bank (I had to open an account today because I'm going to be tutoring english here, hence earning money :0) Yippee!) and I thought of Princess Bride. "Mawwige...it's what bwings us togeva today." or even better, "My name is Enigo Montoya...you killed my father. Prepare to die."

PPS. For all of the Peters out there (yes you daddy and Mr. Krug :0) the word peter in french (not pronounced the same of course) means to fart. But no worries. My name also doesnt really exist, so they call me Kaht-leen. When people start calling me Katelyn again it'll be strange :0)

WINE!!!

Yesterday was our second Dijon excursion…and we went to a vineyard! For the first time since being in France, I saw the burgundy vineyards where they specialize in red wine. We picked some grapes off the vines (totally interdit but we did it anyway) and they were so good – very sweet in fact. We (the rest of the holy crossers, two host mothers, and myself) had a great time eating the grapes and spitting out the seeds :0)

Then, we went on a tour of an old winery, which was really neat. I learned a lot about presses, and how to store the bottles. Next we stopped in a very cute old french village called Beaune for classic french food (NOT! Actually it was an american pub...we had burgers and fries and milkshakes...a nice change of pace but a far cry from the delicious traditional french food :0) and for a tour of an old hospice (a hospital). The roofs of the hospital were the traditionly burgundy tiles, of all different patterns and colors. And we saw old syringes that I would NEVER want a doctor to approach me with, and the beds that sick people slept in - we were also told that once a person was admitted into the hospital it was not exactly a good sign. haha. Next we saw a real live castle with a real live drawbridge! And lastly we went wine tasting...BIG DAY!

Oh, one more tidbit to add. At the wine tasting, there were tables of all different wine brands, and one of the tables was of Lapierre wine. That's Adam's (a holy cross student here in france with me) last name! When he told the man, he was so excited and gave Adam a free bottle of white wine! :0)

interdit = not allowed

Accordian

The other night était genial. I attended a poetry reading for the first time in my life. My host mother asked me if I would like to go with her and a friend, and I gladly accepted the rather unexpected invitation. The readings were taken from the poet Prevet. Of course, it was all in French, so I wasn’t able to understand all of it. But it was still fantastic. And intermittingly, there were also accordion players. I have never realized how talented an accordion player must be. There are so many buttons! So many notes! I actually might look into taking accordion lessons for the year, as my culture project. Everyone who studies abroad needs to do research on one aspect of their foreign country’s culture. Therefore, the light bulb went off over my head tonight as I realized what a potentially awesome project that could be. I mean, when you think of classic French, you think of a man in a beret smoking a cigarette, playing an accordion outside of a café in Paris. I could be that man! (well, woman) Chouette!

The other night était genial = The other night was fantastic
Chouette! = Great/Neat! (it's also the word for owl)

Beauty in France & Running Tales

So I found Lac Kir. Words can't describe the beauty I encountered this morning, before the sun was up. I was on a run along the paths that surround the lake. The lake itself is tucked between cliffs, nestled among trees and serenaded by churchbells. As the sun rose this morning, revealing the steam coming off the water, two swans floated lazily by. Let me tell you, it definitely a good start to the day!

Two storied worth mentioning:

1) The first was when I in Tours. I was running along the river, and there was a man that passed me. I heard something to the effect of "Don't tire yourself out!" and I had thought that was such a cute little insight into French culture...Why run when you could walk? Why stress out when you can relax at a cafe? Things to that nature. But when I went home and looked up what he said, I think he was actually saying "you're not running that fast." Humph :0)

2) The second was from this morning. I ran past yet another man, and althought it was quick, I swear that he said Hello...in english! Is my American-ness simply radiating off me? Perhaps it's my stride..." she runs like an american..." I thought I was safe from being marked as American when I didnt speak. Apparently not.

la poupe

So haven't written in awhile. This is due to:

1) not having internet at my house (huge bummer)
2) writers block
3) having surprisingly, a lot of homework
4) eating croissants in my spare time

Ok, so not really number 4. Although, I did go one morning at like 3:30 to get a warm pain au chocolat (thats a croissant with chocolate bits in it) at the boulangerie by my house on the way home from the discotheque. It was heavenly. I also watched this program on tv, where I saw them make bread and pastries. Yikes...that is difficult work man.

So switching subjects...I'm fully enjoying my greek archaeology class. It's really really neat, lots of stuff to learn, and each piece of work has a myth about it. Also, the teacher is really nice, and when I gave my oral presentation on a vase, she said, "dont worry, just try your hardest." So there i was, shaking in my boots because i was in front of french students, stuttering in french with my american accent! AH! Quelle couchemar! But i survived.

A funny story about that class...yesterday, another mec was giving his presentation on a vase with a boat on it. And as he was describing the boat, he kept saying "poupe" (which i found out later is the french word for the stern of a ship) and of course that sounds like "poop." I know, im 5 years old for thinking this was funny, but honestly, i could hardly keep from bursting out laughing...

quelle couchemar! - what a nightmare!
mec - dude/guy

Quirks

France has something about parks and animals. Whenever I have seen a nice big park, there are always animals inside. Like, the park where I like to run here, called La parc Colombiere (very big and beautiful, with LOTS of runners :0) has some fawns, sheep, some roosters/chickens, goats, and for some reason, pot bellied pigs. By the way, pot-bellied pigs are HUGE. They make me laugh.

Also, it is hard not to run into funny circumstances in a different country. Like, for example, this afternoon I bought some gum. I reached for the “citrus” flavored gum (hey, the foil was orange), but unluckily, it tasted like Halls. I realized afterwards, by examining the package (and by looking up some words) that it was actually gum to help with colds, to clear your nasal passages. Well, I did realize I was breathing better after some chews. :0)

Oh, and something else. Because I don’t have internet yet at my house, I’ve been playing a lot of solitaire on the computer. Well, let me tell you, it is ridiculous. I have won ONE time, in the past 2 weeks. I think it’s fixed.

tea and crumpits

This past weekend in London was amazing. Here are some highlights:

- Dad and I saw some really REALLY big jewels in the Tower of London
- I met a beefeater
- I rode on the underground and heard “mind the gap” over the loudspeaker
- I went to St. Paul’s twice, because Dad thought I didn’t actually find the real one, so I had to go back and check
- I ate really good food, right down the block from Oliver Twist’s home!
- England beat France in the rugby world cup semifinals (I didn’t know who to cheer for!)
- I pretended I had an English accent, and I think people believed me
- I bought an Italian dictionary, in England, for my class which is taught in French
- Dad lied about his age to a bloke we met in the pub…and don’t worry dad, you definitely look 42
- I saw two Holy Cross girls at the Big Ben
- I met Prince Harry (jokes!)
- And last but not least, Dad and I got mooned as we ate at the Thai restaurant.

Cheers!

I’m learning to rely on certain things that close to home, or in the states, I have not been as aware of. For example, I’ve been listening to a lot of music here…it’s very calming. I’ve also been drawing a lot. Also, without internet access, to talk to my mom during the week, I would not be able to survive.

So yah, I guess I’m strong to be studying in France for a year. But at the same time, I must find those things that help me through. I’m not in it alone.

I’m making this sound like I’m having the most difficult time in France. And that’s not true. I’ve been having the time of my life. I would not want to be anywhere else. But see, it is more difficult here. I must communicate in a foreign language, and thus I am often rendered mute (which is very hard for someone such as myself, who likes to express themselves!) I have to wait in long lines, since France apparently likes them a lot. The food is different. I can’t wear my sweatpants to school.

So when I look back at what I just wrote, I realize that it’s not that France isn’t good. On the contrary, it’s amazing. The world is so big, and it’s so fun to be able to explore new places, finally be an independent woman. However, Dijon is not home, and that’s what’s hard. I don’t have many friends yet, while at Holy Cross I can’t walk 10 feet without saying hi to a friend. I know practically every road in Acton, and I have memories there. Without family, friends, or familiarity, isolation and a little bit of desperation sets in. I’m learning these feelings, and THAT’S why it’s hard. I don’t go a day without thinking about home yet. I’m not homesick, but I think about it a lot. Again, I don’t want to go home, I just wish that I was as comfortable here as I am in Boston, in my town, in my house, at my school. I want that so badly here. But honestly, it must be coming. Time is the only solution. And that’s what is also frustrating :0) I’m not that patient.

La Passion du Gout

Ah, croissants. I mean, you can get them in the United States, but eating them in France makes them 100 times better. Today after class I walked into a patisserie, and asked for a "croissant du beurre" - aka a plain croissant (literally it means a butter croissant). There are many other options, from raisin, to chocolate...etc. But croissants are so flaky and yum, that it's not hard to believe that they were made right beneath the shop only hours before.

I entitled this post "La Passion du Gout" or the passion for taste, b/c here in France, there seems to be a little more umph in the food. Huge grocery stores don't exist. Only little bread/pastry shops, the butchers shop, cheese shops, (mustard shops here in dijon), and then your little supermarket for the other necessary goods. But there is more flavor, more gout with each bite - mainly b/c there is more passion for food here. What I need to learn is to eat to savor my food, something that I'm not used to :0)

Last week, I was walking home. Yes, I was out late, coming home at like 2:30 in the morning. But it was absolutely amazing, b/c i passed, right by my house, a boulangerie. And the door to downstairs was open, and wafting out was the best smell. I took a peak, and what I saw made me love France even more. A man in his slippers, making croissants. I could see them getting golden brown in the oven. Now that's what I call passion for food - waking up at an ungodly hour to make scruptious pastries. Next time when I pass at that hour, I'm going to ask to buy one. :0)

La Langue Maternelle

Today was my first day of classes in France! I have signed up for a French culture class (reserved solely for exchange students, comme moi :0), a Greek archaeology class (that will give me an art credit) a psychology class of child development (for my psych major) and an Italian class!

Now this italian class is insane. Not only am I trying to learn a language other than my lange maternelle (mother tongue) but it's being tuaght to me in French...again, a foreign language. I'm pretty proud that I'm able to keep up (the teacher speaks really fast) but still, it's the weirdest concept. It's almost too hard for my brain to grasp. I'm hoping that my brain won't explode from all the languages!

Home

It seems real now, that i'm in a different county. I made it to Dijon, where it actually seems more difficult than Tours. Difficult in terms of missing what I know. For instance, I really wish I could go outside and find a Dunkin Donuts. I really miss talking english. I really miss knowing where I'm going. Of course, these feelings surmount when I feel a little helpless, and right now I do. I'm an American from my shoes to my head, in a world that I don't know, don't yet understand, and I am speaking a language that hardly exists here. Thus, I'm floundering a bit.

It's weird, but I've noticed that when things aren't working out, I miss America. Like, when I have to wait in really long lines (long queues are notorious here) I want the American beuraucracy. Or when Josette (my new hostmom) pounces with another set of obscure and foreign French rules, I want my own house in Acton. Or when the University is making it difficult and too confusing for me to pick classes, I want to be at Holy Cross.

Overall, I'm overwhelmed. But I calm myself by taking long walks around the city (it's very beautiful) and discovering the little nuances that make France France. I mean, I am only here for a year. And while right now that seems like eternity, in 9 months I'm going to look back and wish that I could still walk into a patisserie and buy a beautiful pastry. Or walk past the umbrella shop and wonder why I've never seen one in the US before. Or smile at the old men with their glasses and pipes carrying their baguettes down the street. Or marvel at the old stone buildings. Or...or...