Giving Thanks

When it comes to holidays, I am a woman of tradition.  Whenever my family thinks about switching something up, like opening presents throughout the day on Christmas or not going to the Thanksgiving Day Parade because it is too cold, I am the one they have to fight for it.  So having a Thanksgiving that was not only untraditional but celebrated in a country that doesn't celebrate Thanksgiving was...interesting.
Before coming to France, I knew when the holidays came around it would be one of the hardest things to handle.  I didn't expect to be doing anything for Thanksgiving, but luckily I was wrong.  Our program coordinator put together a Thanksgiving dinner for all of the Americans, our teachers and our host families.  I even went and spoke with the chef myself, giving him exact directions on how Thanksgiving in America is done and translating recipes for him.  And I'm glad I did because it was fantastic.
Thanksgiving started off with my favorite thing in the world, Marketing class (sarcasm: it is the bane of my existence) which ended around 12.  We had 8 hours until our dinner and I knew that if I didn't keep myself busy I would let the sadness of being away from the people I am most thankful for in the world get to me.  So I went over to my friend's house and we made an American breakfast for lunch (eggs, bacon, the whole shabang) while listening to Christmas music.  After we watched episodes of Thanksgiving themed TV shows on Netflix.  It wasn't quite the same as Panera bagels and watching the parade as I usually do, but it was fun.
When it was time for the dinner, all the Americans anxiously awaited what this French chef would come up with.  And we were all shocked at how great of a job he had done.  As much as I'm sure he was tempted to add a French twist, he didn't.  It was all American.  Turkey, potatoes, pies, cranberries.  There was everything.  We also each gave a little toast, saying what we were thankful for.  One person did it and I think our French families sort of assumed it was an American tradition sooo we all sort of got guilted into it.  But I was happy to have the chance to tell them how much I treasure my relationship with them and how blessed I feel to have a second family here.
We got home around midnight and I was pretty proud of myself; I hadn't let a single tear out all day.  But right before I went to bed I saw a message from my dad saying he had to say grace since I wasn't there.  Ever since I was little I was the one to say grace on Thanksgiving.  I don't know why.  It is tradition and I love tradition.  I get that from my dad I think.  So that's when I lost it.  I was able to facetime my family and see them all wearing Kalamazoo College gear, making me feel like I was there even though I was on the other side of the world.  We talked and I started feeling better.  I left them to their dinner.
Thanksgiving was very bittersweet.  I was with my second family, but I wasn't with my family.  I was at home, but not my true home.  I had American food, but it wasn't American food.  The song is true: there is no place like home for the holidays.  But this is a holiday about giving thanks, and after the happiness I felt to be where I am as well as the sadness I felt because of it, I had a lot to be grateful for.  I'm a lucky girl.

Les femmes des volcans

Everyone wonders how the french are so healthy and in shape when all they eat is cheese and wine and butter.  What's their secret?  Walking.  In France you walk.  A lot.  Exercise is naturally incorporated into the day to day.  Not only do I walk to school, lunch, downtown, etc. every day, I have done a lot of hiking.  Now, anyone who knows me knows that nature and I don't always mix.  First of all, I am allergic to basically anything outdoors.  Second, I am not a huge fan of moving.  But I have been doing it a lot here and I actually love it.  It is a new me.
Climbing a volcano never even crossed my mind as something I would want to do in my life because it just seems so...insane!  And now I have done it twice and both times it was spectacular.
The first volcano I climbed was the Puy de Dome, the major tourist attraction of the region of Auvergne.  That is what I love about where I am studying.  I live in the suburbs with my host family, but a 15 minute bus ride and I am downtown.  And then a 20 minute car drive and we are in one of the most beautiful nature sites in France.  My host parents took me and two of my friends to climb it with them.  The leaves were all different colors and the view was amazing.  Although it got pretty difficult the further we went, when we reached the top of the volcano, looking out on all the other smaller volcanos in the chain, it felt so immensely satisfying.  I'm really thankful that I have a host family that likes doing things like that and pushes me to do the same.  Whenever I have a free day my host mom is pushing me to travel and find things to go see and do.  She knows how important it is to make the most of this experience and climbing a volcano definitely qualifies.
I went with my friends Natalie and Mallory and her host family to another volcano a week later.  Although it wasn't as large, this volcano you could actually climb inside of!  It took us a while just to reach the base of the volcano, and then we began to climb.  It started to rain a little bit and the wind started to pick up.  The higher we went, the worse it got.  People passed us and warned us about the wind at the top.  I couldn't imagine it would be much worse than what we were already experiencing, but I was wrong.  I literally had trouble not falling over the wind was so strong.  The experience of being around the top ridge of a volcano while the wind is almost making you fall off the edge and freezing rain is slapping you in the face is actually a lot better than it sounds.  It was such an intense and surreal sensational experience, it was unlike anything I had ever felt.  We made our way down to the bottom of the inside of the volcano and got an insane view of the volcano from the bottom.  By the time we made it back to Mallory's and warmed up with hot coacoa I was cold, exhausted, and exhilarated.
Being in France is an experience I am still in shock I get to have.  Climbing volcanoes, going for quick weekend trips to Paris and forming real family-like relationships with the members of my host family just makes it feel even more like I am not actually living my life; like it is all just a dream.  I'm not sure if I will get to climb a volcano again in my life, but I won't soon forget what it felt like.

From Paris, With Love

On Wednesday, I was talking about maybe going for a hike this weekend.  By Thursday, I was packing my bags for Paris.  What?!?  My life is so insane right now that the magnitude of it doesn't even hit me.  I am aware of it, but numb to it.  And then all of a sudden it just hits me, like it did this week.

We found out on Monday that we were having a 5 day weekend so we told our host families and, per usual, they came through for us and made this amazing weekend possible.  Natalie's host family (who I am also very close with and adore) told us they had a daughter living in Paris and although we never met her, she called her up and asked if we could stay with her for the weekend and she said yes.  She was also coming to Clermont on Sunday anyways so she gave us a ride home.  When I told my host family, my host cousin called his mom who lives in Versailles to see if she could pull any strings for a special tour at the palace since she goes there all the time.  She ended up reserving our tickets of entry and paying for Natalie and I to take a special tour of the King's private rooms that are not open to the public.  The entire weekend was one wonderful experience after the other, all made possible due to the generous hearts of our french families.  It was so humbling and so wonderful.

When we arrived on Friday, Natalie's host sister had prepared dinner for us and took us out to a bar with some of her friends.  We got to see Paris a bit through the eyes of a true Parisian, not just like the tourists we are.  We only had 3 days in Paris, but we made the most of them.  The first day, we went to the pyramide of the Louvre and ran to Musee d'Orsay.  Musee d'Orsay is AMAZING.  I remember when the DIA had one Van Gogh and it was such a big deal.  Here, there are paintings by him everywhere you look.  Pictures you have seen thousands of times in magazines and books, right in front of you.  There were also paintings by Renoir, Monet, etc.  A few months ago when we went to Monet's gardens, I stood on the exact bridge that is in the painting I was able to see.  It was surreal.  The next day we went on our special tour of Versailles, learning things like the King's schedule which included going to the bathroom in front of a window so all of the King's court could see that he was in good health.  After we went to Notre Dame and Shakespeare and Company (the coolest bookstore EVER) and had a wonderful dinner and drinks.  The last day, we walked around the Champs Elysees and saw L'arc de Triomphe. Finally, we went to Saint Chappelle, a Cathedral with walls made almost entirely of stained glass.  If I had only been able to see one of these things, it would've been enough.  But being in Paris, seeing the pictures of my history books come to life.  It still hasn't fully sunken in...  Plus I got to do all of these wonderful things with my best friend.
 Though each part was wonderful in its own way, I'd have to say the highlight of my weekend was the first night.  Natalie and I walked along the iconic Seine to the Eiffel Tower at around 6:45.  It was lit up, but not sparkling yet.  The grandeur of the Eiffel Tower is incredible.  We didn't know when the tower would start sparkling, but we thought probably at 7.  So we just sat and took it in for 15 minutes until 6:59 when I asked Natalie what time it was and it began sparkling.  I literally screamed.  Like a terrified scream.  It was so magnificent I couldn't help myself.  I have seen the Eiffel Tower before, I have even climbed it, but I have only seen it lit up from a distance.  Being right in front of it and watching it transform into this dazzling magnificent thing is something I will never forget.  There are few things in life greater than watching the Eiffel Tower light up with your best friend.

Zut

From the moment I returned from my fantastic voyages in Italy, I've been wishing I had never left.  It has been the worst week I've had here, all because of one, excuse my French, putant.  While I have loved my host family and experiences here, the classes have not been great.  But tolerable.  Until I began working in a group with other French students for my marketing class.  All the K students have been upset with this class, mostly because their groups just treat them like they don't exist and won't let them do any of the work.  For me, that was not the case.  I held my own, doing as much work as my French counterparts.  But one girl, from the start, was not happy to be workig with me, an American, and assumed the worst in me.  She made that clear throughout the project, but this week she hit a new level of mean.  When I couldn't make our group meeting because they scheduled it without me at a location 2 hours away from me by bus, she had had it.  On Facebook, for the rest of the group to see, she yelled at me, said she hopes she never works with me again, said she was fed up, etc.  It was humiliating.  But they sent me my part to complete and I prepared for our presentation.  Come the day of the presentation when my slide pops up, the horrible girl and I start talking at the same time. Apparently they had told me the wrong part to do.  And my other slide we never got to because we ran out of time.  So I said nothing.  And then she yelled at me for it.  I'm so glad that I have been able to meet people from France outside of this class including my host family and some friends I have made from the school because if it was just my group, I'd never come back to this country.

This had been the only bad experience I have had with someone from France.  The fact that it stemmed from the fact that I was American and it was slightly harder to work with me didn't feel great.  But, it was yet another situation when I truly got to appreciate the other people I am surrounded by.  My host family asked what was wrong and after I showed them the conversation I had with the girl on Facebook, they were furious.  My host dad wanted to message the girl himself and go to my school to speak with the professor (I declined his offer).  My friends were just as upset as my family was and I was completely surrounded by support.  It wasn't the end of the world, but they were protecting me like it was.  I wish it hadn't happened of course, but at least I had some wonderful people on my side when it did.

Italy Part 2!

After the stress and the beauty of Venice, when it was time to go to Florence I was slightly relieved.  Venice was a dream.  But I was exhausted at this point and I knew Florence would be a bit more relaxing.  I had already been to Florence with my high school and I LOVED it, so I had no doubt I would feel the same.  It didn't disappoint.  Florence is completely different than Venice.  It is gorgeous because it is so rich in culture and history.  Names I have been hearing ever since I was a little girl like Michelangelo and Galileo were buried there.  Churches that are older than my country still stand tall and beautiful.  You never get tired of it.  I did, however, get tired of the walking/climbing.  Since we didn't have a car, we would walk on average about 10 miles every day, and several of these miles were up a hill or up steps.  One of the days in Florence, we climbed the tour right next to the Duomo to get a magnificent view of the city.  It was breathtaking, literally (ba dum chee).  Over 400 steps and a dark, winding, slippery, deadly staircase later, we made it to the top and although I was panting like crazy, it was worth it.  I remembered in my political science class learning about how Machiavelli wrote about how in the times when republics were being formed, the cities' construction made it so everything sort of leads you to the city center.  From the top of the tower, that was easy to see it was the case here.  And then later that day, I got to see Machiavelli's grave.  Pretty insane...

It was hard to say goodbye to Florence, but I was dying to see Siena.  Before we left for our trip, everyone would ask where we were going, nod and smile at Venice and Florence, but then when we'd mention Siena, everyone beamed.  It did not disappoint.  We had 4 days in Siena, so there was plenty of time to explore.  The three cities gave us the perfect taste of Italy.  Venice, a dreamworld, Florence, a cultural/historical gold mine and Siena, the beautiful countryside of Tuscany.  Downtown Siena is still a major city, filled with shops and restaurants.  We took our time exploring the city, going to museums and churches and eating tons of gelato.  The duomo of Siena was actually probably my favorite cathedral I have ever seen.  It was gigantic and entirely underrated.  We listened to audio guides that told us about what all the symbols and architecture of the church meant.  We saw an old religious library, a crypt and even got another panoramic view of another gorgeous Italian city.  One of the nights, we got to see an Italian Opera.  The singers were magnificient.  Their voices were chilling.  Even though I had no idea what they were saying, it was impossible not to feel touched by the performance.  Surprisingly, I actually knew two of the songs.
Although Siena was great, there was one lapse in luck again.  We had ordered a hotel room for 2 people although there were three of us.  I volunteered to be the criminal, sneaking in and out of the hotel, trying not to get caught.  On the third day, we got a call in our hotel room.  It was the front desk, asking for their friend (me) to come to the front desk.  It was mortifying.  But the lady was nice and pretended like she didn't know I had been sneaking in and out for days, only making me rent a room for two nights.  It could have been worse.
Although all of Sienna was amazing, it wasn't until the last day that I fell in love.  We reserved 3 spots for a Tuscan wine tour.  IF YOU GO TO SIENA, DO THE TENULA TORCIANO WINE TOUR!!!!!!  It was incredible.  For 30 euros, we had a full day of being driven to 2 small villages with a tour guide who gave us so much interesting information we would have had no clue about otherwise.  We stopped at one of the Chianti vineyards and finally made our way to the wine tasting at a gorgeous wine cellar.  Just to get to one of those small villages would have cost 30 euros by taxi, and we got to see several, with a tour guide, finished with a wine tasting.  It was amazing.
When we got to the wine cellar, a dreamy Italian man named Lilo grabbed my hand and said "Ciao Princessa." I swooned.  Lilo was our guide for the evening, which made it hard to concentrate on the wine (sorry mom if you are reading this).  When we signed up for the tasting, we figured for the cheap price we would get to try 3, maybe 4 small glasses of wine.  That was not the case.  Giant wine glasses were filled with 9 different types of extremely expensive, delicious wine.  We were given cheese and salad and salami to taste with the wines.  Lilo taught us the proper way to drink wine and let us try their 30 year old balsamic vinegar, truffle olive oil and pepper olive oil.  It was all AMAZING.  I had to start dumping out my wine because I was starting to feel it and I didn't want to be drunk and not be able to appreciate the taste (although by the end of it, it is possible I was slightly intoxicated).  Lilo continued to charm us.  Despite the douchey, pompous American that was at the table with us who asked Lilo questions like "You say that this was aged 30 years but how do we know that is true" and his insane wife who made comments like "this cookie tastes like the Jewish cookies my mother was making when she died" it was one of the best nights of my life.
The entire trip was a dream.  The entire time it was happening, I already felt nostalgic because I knew how much I was going to miss it.  And I already do.  But I will be back.  It is my dream to take my parents someday.  So until next time, Ciao my dear Italia.

We are the champignons/Italy Part 1

I have always been a fan of Queen, but oddly enough it wasn't until coming to France that I started to become pretty hard core about it.  My friends and I, for some odd reason, decided we were going to try to learn all the words to as many Queen songs as possible by the end of study abroad.  So about two weeks ago when our program took us on a mushroom hunting trip, we searched the forest for mushrooms while simultaneously beginning to learn the lyrics to Killer Queen (we got it down now).

The forest we went to was like no forest I had ever seen.  Everything was so...mushy.  There was moss everywhere.  It was like walking on a million sponges.  But there were also tons of mushrooms (the french word for mushrooms is champignons).  Most were not edible, but by the end of the voyage we had all collected a decent amount of mushrooms for dinner.  That night when I cooked the wild mushrooms and ate them with my host family, it was the perfect way to say goodbye to France before my trip to Italy.

Although I am incredibly fortunate and grateful to be in France at all, I can't help but feel like there is some bad juju in the universe that doesn't want me to be here.  First there was the missing luggage.  Then my credit card didn't work.  I thought that would be the end of my bad luck, but the night before my early flight to Venice, my friends and I received an email saying the flight was canceled.  At this point the bad luck combined with me missing good ol' Michigan really got to me.  I was more home sick than I had ever been.  But my host mom pulled through and we were able to find a series of trains that would take us to Venice.  The next day I woke up at 4 AM and didn't arrive in Venice until 10:15.  The Hostel where we were staying requires that you check in by 9 and if you will be late you have to let them know and there will be a 20 euro charge.  If you are there later than 11, you can't get in.  So when we got off the train and realized that Venice, while gorgeous, is also very confusing, I started to think I was going to have to sleep on the street.  But that is when our luck started to turn around.  I asked a man for directions and he could see I was obviously stressing out.  Although the hostel was 30 minutes away, he dropped what he was doing and walked us all the way to the hostel.  We arrived just a few minutes before 11 and the owner of the hostel decided not to charge us the extra 20 euros.  My stress melted away and I was ready to enjoy my vacation.  Maybe the universe didn't want me to be there, but the people did, and I was happy with that.

Due to the airplane incident, we only had one day to see Venice, which meant we had to book it.  In one day we were able to see and soak in all of the major attractions of the island, as well as Burano, a tiny island filled with houses of all different bright colors.  Venice was a dream.  It was like nowhere I have ever been.  Although this was my second trip to Italy, it didn't seem like any part of Italy I had already seen.  We even got to ride the iconic gondolas, although it was 30 euros for a half hour ride so we just payed 2 euros and took a 2 minute ride.  We ate gelato while listening to a man sing opera in the middle of the street, we saw the iconic Murano glass and Burano lace.  It was a fairytale.
The next morning we were exhausted but ready for our next adventure.  We packed our things and said our last goodbyes to the sinking city.  Next stop: Florence.