Surprise!

                                                      Chomérac

It's been a couple days since my host dad's surprise birthday party and since the secret's been out for a little while, I suppose it's safe to blog about. For the past few months, Anne has been planning this huge party without stop and I must say, I'm quite impressed by how she pulled it off without a glitch.

After Anne reserved a huge party room, hired a DJ, and sent hundreds of invitations to family, friends, and coworkers, I jumped into the mix to help a bit with the later preparations. My mission: the punch. (Anne kind of dragged me into this one haha) We went shopping for all the ingredients while Manu was at work and we must have looked like the two biggest alcoholics walking out of Hyper U with dozens of bottles of rum and cognac and a 50 liter garbage can in tow. But on the other hand, there was orange juice and pineapple juice in the cart, so we looked like healthy alcoholics. 

We lugged everything back to the house without managing to break any bottles and began making the punch. It was actually kind of fun because it was like playing witches with the cauldron of potion and a stick to stir it all together! (That's my nerdy Harry Potter side jumping in.) Anyway, it actually turned out really well, and I was pretty proud of our work at the end of the day.

On Saturday (party day!) I met up with Carolina, the Brazilian in Aubenas (I'm starting to feel bad because that has become her identifier every time I introduce her) and we headed over to the party venue in Chomérac. On a side note, Chomérac is the town of my next host family, and it's about a 10-15 minute drive to Privas. After setting up all the tables and chairs, Carolina and I decided to walk around for a few hours. Since we are typical exchange students, our outing involved girl talk, photo shoots, conversations switching back and forth between multiple languages, and food. And since being an exchange student consists of being positive and happy all the time (when you obviously have to force it sometimes), we finally got a chance to flat-out complain and feel depressed together, and I will be the first one to say: it sure felt good. In an ironic way.

The party started that evening once Manu arrived at the venue with a family friend. There were tons of people there and it was apparent by Manu's expression that Anne's hard work paid off. People were laughing, dancing, and singing, and Anne and Manu were grinning from ear to ear like giddy kids on Christmas all night long. 

Carolina and I stuck together the rest of the night and we mostly talked. And talked. And talked some more. We took a slight break at 5:30 a.m. to sleep a bit, but it was pretty consistent. We've already shared our life stories and secrets and everything that usually goes unsaid. Sometimes I think about how much easier life would be if I had an exchange student in Privas with me, but I guess there's pros and cons to every situation. I would never have learned French as quickly as I did if there was another exchange student in Privas, but I do miss hanging out with friends. Luckily, I still have these rare weekends to be thankful for and they are totally worth the wait!

Please Pass the Heavy Cream!

There hasn't been much that's happened since my last post, but I wanted to share two recipes that are really easy and delicious! The first recipe is a regional dish from Alsace (in Northeastern France). My second host father is from Alsace, and he made this dinner the other night. I haven't actually tried this one out myself, but he gave me all the directions, so here they are:

Untitled (I forgot the name already):

1) pizza dough
2) heavy cream
3) lardon (I tried looking for an American substitute for this, and the closest I came to was bacon bits. The difference is lardon is slightly larger, and in my opinion, it tastes better!) I suppose you could just slice thicker bacon into tiny cubes to make it work. Here's a photo from the internet so you can all see what lardon is in France -
4) Onions
5) Salt and Pepper to taste

You can either make your own pizza dough or buy one at the market (my family bought one and it tasted great to me!), but you basically roll it out in a pan and pour on
<--- this much heavy cream; give or take a little. After that, you salt and pepper the tart and stick it in the oven at an extremely high heat and let the pizza dough bake and the creamy goodness cream over even more. I'm not sure how long he had it in there, (it seemed like a really long time while we were all waiting at the table) but when it was finished, the dough was completely baked and the cream was a little thicker. If you've got common baking sense, you can probably figure it out.

Now that we've got that taken care of, time to take out the frying pan and caramelize some onions! (and lardon, or bacon, or whatever you can find) Just put a little olive oil in the pan with the onion slices and lardon and let them cook. Once the tart comes out of the oven, I think (kind of guessing on this one) that you evenly spread all the stuff in the pan over the tart and stick it back in the over for a little bit.

It should be ready a little while later, and even though it seems kind of plain, it tastes so much better than what you probably imagine! And if you try it and something seems wrong with the recipe, there most likely is. Again, I did not make it, and I assumed on some of the steps, so give me a break. I know how to make almost 10 different types of ramen noodles (!), but my cooking stops here.

Now we're moving on to my second recipe, which is credited to my first host family. This recipe is even easier, and it takes about two seconds!

Sweet Omelette (for one person):

2 eggs
flour
sugar
heavy cream

So all you do is get a bowl and mix together 2 eggs, 2 big spoons of flour, 2 big spoons of sugar, and 2 big spoons of heavy cream. The proportions are pretty easy to remember. Like pretty much anything, you can add a little salt to bring out the flavor.

Next, you butter a pan on the stove (low heat) and pour in the mixture. It tastes better if you use salted butter on the pan. Don't scramble the concoction because it is supposed to be omelette-like. At the most flip it over, but I don't even think that's necessary. You kind of just let it sit there. Once it's at the minimum of being cooked, (it's really so much better just a little undercooked), stick it on plate and enjoy!

I hope I didn't mess up these recipes too badly, but if I did, I think they're still edible. Let me know how they turn out if you ever try one of them and bon appétit!

Lost in the Alps

                                                       Praz de Lys

Just giving you all a heads up: I'm currently listening to a Michael Bublé CD, so if my writing somehow morphs into sappy love lyrics; you know why.

Now onto the post - I passed my vacation in the French Alps and it was absolutely fantastic! (I seem to have a lot of phrases just like this one in my blog; sorry for the repetition everyone.) I was gone for a week without a computer, and I must say it was nice to get away from the screen and leave all connection behind for a while. (Of course I missed my blogging!) A lot has happened since I last wrote, and there's no way I will remember it all, but here it goes anyway -

We left on Saturday for the long road trip to Praz de Lys in Haute Savoie. My host family rented a ski chalet in the mountains, and it was so pretty! Everything was postcard-perfect and the slopes were great. The station has received a lot of snow this winter, and it was obvious by the several feet of powder sitting on all the roofs.

I spent the first evening unpacking and getting fitted into my equipment for the next day of downhill skiing. I was pretty nervous because it has been several years since the last time I went skiing, but it's kind of like riding a bike, and I got back into the swing of it pretty quickly.

Before I go any further, I just want to add that I've never been a really good skier. I can count the number of times I've been skiing in my whole life on two hands, so I never learned technique. In addition, I've only ever had one ski lesson, and that was basically learning how to put on the skis. In spite of all that, I've always been pretty good at getting down the mountain some way or another so I'm not completely hopeless.

I spent the first four days of the vacation downhill skiing. I stuck to the blue trails, which turned out to be a whole lot more difficult than the blues I took in New York. (But then again, the Alps are slightly bigger than the Adirondacks.) I spent most of the time falling or catching myself from falling but I didn't break any bones, which is an accomplishment in itself.

For the last two days of downhill skiing, I went off with Mathilde, who decided to try snowboarding. She said she was truly a beginner, so I was expecting the bunny hill and maybe the green trails. As it turns out, our definition of "beginner" is very different. On the lift, Mathilde confessed that she has taken three years of snowboarding lessons, so she was already way better than me. However, she was cool with carving up the blues and taking it slow.

On the fourth day, Mathilde and I agreed to take a red (the next difficult to a blue) because it would get us to a different lift without having to walk a lot. The trail was fine in itself, but it was really snowy that day, and I couldn't see the signs very well. (You can probably see where this is going.) I managed to stray from the trail (a lot), and I had no idea where I was. After several minutes of skiing alone through trees, I decided that I wasn't where I should be. Yes, I can be a little blunt sometimes. Anyway, I could not find Mathilde anywhere, and I was getting worried that she would be worried for me. I kept making my way through the middle of nowhere and about 20 minutes passed before I saw a little figure waving her poles at me from a distant mountain. It was another really long time before I got to her in person because I had to traverse a mountain. Don't ask me how I get myself stuck in these situations cause I honestly don't know. I was pretty winded by the time I found my way to the chairlift, but oh so happy to see civilization. (I suppose you could call a chairlift in the middle of nowhere "civilization" if you were in my position.)

The rest of the week was a little less eventful in a good way. I tried cross country skiing for the first time and I stuck with that for two days. It was tiring, and I got about a million blisters all over my feet, but I actually enjoyed it. The weather was beautiful and sunny, and there was a perfect view of Mt. Blanc in the distance. I went with the alternative skis because they were a lot easier to manage for a first-timer than the regular skis. I waddled around for a couple hours on the last day with the real cross-country skis, and I was so tired by the end! Also, be forewarned: If you don't have any technique whatsoever, expect to look like a cartoon character who is making such an effort to advance by moving your legs really fast and in the process stay resting completely stationary before falling down a few seconds later.

At the end of the week, I wasn't able to walk very well. Between my bandaged feet and aching legs, I was hobbling around and falling into every chair I could find. (It's probably a good thing the week ended when it did.) All in all, it was a terrific, tiring, and fulfilling vacation that inspired me to be a little more active and outdoorsy.

I'm in my second week of vacation now and things are much calmer. I made a pancake dinner for my host family this evening, and I discovered that Mathilde ate at the same diner as me in Pennsylvania when she was an exchange student in America (Dutch Oven Kitchen! Best chicken pot pie ever!!!). That right there was enough to make my week. Other than that, I would say my life has been pretty normal and there isn't much else to call me irresponsible, yes, I'm unreliable, but it's undeniably true that I'm irresponsibly mad for you...

Until next time folks!

Breaking Down Barriers

For the past few weeks, my English class has been discussing French, British, and American stereotypes. We recently finished the unit, and I figured it would make an interesting blog post. Because I'm an American living in France, I'll stick to the French and American stereotypes. Plus I only know one British citizen really well (my best friend) and she's practically American, so those stereotypes don't really apply...

I'll guess I'll start with American stereotypes. To keep this post from becoming a novel, I'm not going to write about all the stereotypes we spoke about in class, because the list is goes on and on and on... Anyway, when people think of Americans, they usually picture fat, stupid, lazy, and ignorant people that eat McDonalds and t.v. dinners every day. I'm here to tell you, it's not all true! (Although considering the fact that most everyone who reads this blog is American, I guess you already knew that!) Yes, obesity is a problem in America. Yes, our public school system have been going down the tubes in recent years. Yes, McDonalds was invented in America and people do eat here.

However, there's always a different side to the story. I know more Americans that break every single one of these stereotypes than the Americans that fit them. My family and friends are some of the most intelligent people I know (I mean, my mom's a librarian; you can't beat that), and besides that, they are all healthy, beautiful, and compassionate people that are intrigued by other viewpoints and cultures.

The same irony holds true for the French. General stereotypes of the French: dirty, smelly, stuck-up, and rude. Sure, they're not all charmers and yes, I've met some people who, at first glance, fit right into these stereotypes. On the other hand, the people that have really impacted my exchange have been among the kindest, most welcoming people I've ever met in my life. The obvious people that come to mind are my host families. This exchange has been the most difficult year of my life; when you leave your home for a year and arrive in a country unaware of the language and not knowing a soul, life certainly presents its challenges. On difficult days of my exchange, the depression kicks in and I've never felt more alone in my life, but there always comes a moment when I remember that my new families have done so much to make me comfortable and happy. It's moments like these when I realize just how lucky I am. Most kids only have one family; I have 4!

This post actually took me forever to write because it was really difficult to find a focus. I wrote and rewrote so many times, and now that I look back, I probably did write a novel before I cut it down to this reasonably-sized entry. There are so many things I left unsaid...so many more stereotypes that got cut out and an even greater number of arguments against them. This post is just the bare minimum and I haven't decided whether or not I'll follow through with this subject in following entries. Frankly, this post made me realize just how stupid stereotyping actually is. Stereotypes create barriers, and I guess it's kind of an exchange student's job to break them down. For every stereotype, there is an exception, and it's up to all of us to find the exception and look at people for what they really are: individuals.

Antoine in America

I think it should be said that I finally chose my date to come home. For the past few days, I've been keeping it a little secret because I'm not ready to admit that this experience will come to an end on July 1. It was hard enough to actually pick a return date: pretty much every date from the 1st to the 15 was (at one point or another) the date to return. After a month of mulling it over, I decided the beginning of July was the best time for me. I'll be able spend the summer with my family and take some trips with my friends (Laurie - if you are somewhere out there reading this - we are totally going somewhere; I still don't know where, but we will be going!)

Now that that's said, I also want to remind you of something I wrote in one of my earlier posts: I fully intend on bringing Antoine back home with me this summer. (Pretty sure that's a direct quote) For all of you who think I exaggerated, let it be known, I kid not. Antoine, my 10 year old first host brother, is literally coming home with me at the end of my year. Anne booked Antoine a plane ticket and he's staying with me for a couple weeks. I am so excited!!! Most parents expect their child to come home from a foreign country with a few souvenirs, but no, I'm bringing them a little brother. So much better if you ask me. You're welcome, Mom and Dad :)

With that being off my chest, I guess I'll give you a little update on school: ONLY 1 MORE WEEK OF ACCROSPORT! Well, that's pretty much it on the school front...

Vacation starts in two days and I'm really looking forward to a nice, long break from school. My host family is taking me skiing in the Alps at Praz de Lys for one week.  I looked up some pictures on the website, and it looks stunning. They've been getting a lot of snow this winter, and I am so ready to hit the slopes! Here's the only problem: the Alps are a lot bigger than Greek Peak. Greek Peak was all good and dandy, but the black diamonds there are probably more like the bunny hills in Haute-Savoie. I've gone skiing before, but I'm definitely not an expert. And you might have read about how insanely athletic the Dollé's are. I'm praying they'll take it easy on me next week, but in case that doesn't work, the painkillers are packed.

Arles: Mediterranean or Tundra?...

                                                  Icy Fountain in Arles

Brrrrrrr! That's the first thing that comes to my mind when I sat down to write this post. There's a cold front going through France and practically the whole country has gone under a major cold spell. If you look out the window here, you wouldn't see any difference in the weather from the past few weeks. The sun is shining, the sky is blue, and there isn't a snowflake in sight. But, I'm here to tell you: don't be fooled folks, it's all a trap!! I spent yesterday outside and came back thinking the fridge was a radiator.

You might be asking, "Why, who is this crazy person to choose spending all day outside in Fargo-land rather than sitting in French class like all her other classmates?" In response to that question, I would have to say I honestly didn't see it coming. Two days ago, the German teacher gave me a permission slip to go to Arles (In the south: think Cote d'Azur.) If you just clicked on this blog for the first time, let me give you a little background: No I don't take German. Yes, I have an in with the German teacher because I'm the super-cool Rotary exchange student (or something like that). Anyway, I assumed the south would be warm, and I was all for exploring a new city rather than sitting in school all day, taking two exams, and reciting a 16-line French poem from memory for M Saint-Clair's class. Sign me up!

The bus left at 8 and I was lucky to get a seat with Marilyn. She's been like an angel this year. She talked to me when no one else would, and even though she's not in my class and I don't see her very often, she always treats me like a friend whenever we're together and just that right there is more than any exchange student could ask for. 

When we finally got to Arles, we stepped off the bus into freezing cold and wind that could knock you down if you weren't careful. It was an ancient city with plenty of Roman-ruins, but it was difficult to take in all the beauty when there were thousands of sharp needles prickling your skin and your hands were pale and purple because you forgot your gloves. As the day progressed, the wind quieted down, but the cold continued. At one point, I went to the bathroom and my hands were so cold that I couldn't even button my pants back up afterwards. I was trying so hard to grasp the button on my pants, but my motor skills were not mimicking my brain, and after about five minutes, I finally gave up. I spent half the day walking around with my pants unbuttoned, and for once, it wasn't because they didn't fit anymore.

After a guided tour, we were given free time to explore the cities by ourselves. Marilyn and I walked around together in desperate search of a café for a few minutes sanctuary from the cold with a hot drink. Surprisingly, we were walking and walking for maybe 45 minutes until we found something that was open. I know the stereotype of France is that there is a café every other store, and I was really hoping this stereotype would hold true for Arles, but unfortunately, it didn't. There were plenty of expensive restaurants, but almost no cafés. We ended up stopping at a really small café that wasn't very good at all. I ordered a nutella crepe and a hot chocolate and was disappointed to see a half filled mug without whipped creme and a pre-made crepe stuck on a plate for me. Very un-French like if you ask me.

We were all happy to be back on the heated bus and headed back to Privas that afternoon. Arles was beautiful, but take my advice and go in the summer!

St. Sorlin d'Arves

Last weekend was another crazy exchange student get-together and it was fantastical! (If there are any college admissions out there reading this, pretend I just said 'incredibly stupendous' instead of fantastical.) Carolina, my Brazilian chica who lives in Aubenas, slept over friday night and there wasn't a silent moment between the two of us. We were screaming and laughing and crying, and now that I think about it, we probably woke up the whole neighborhood. It had been at least 2 or 3 months since I had last seen her in person, and we certainly made up for lost time with endless storytelling.

The next day, my host parents drove us and two other exchangers living in Valence to St. Sorlin d'Arves, a ski resort city in the Alps. The ride was about 4 hours long and between the broken English, Portuguese, and French, we all babbled on and on without a moment's rest. My host parents were probably pretty happy to drop off the raucous group of teenagers who might as well have eaten Energizer Bunny batteries for breakfast.

The station was absolutely gorgeous. The mountains were steep, dramatic, and blanketed in snow. The 48 of us were staying in a youth hostel and we spent the whole afternoon (and night) talking and talking. I was so happy when I first saw Pruthvi; we hugged continuously for about ten minutes before we could even pull away and look each other in the face. I grabbed a room with Pruthvi and Eleanor, an exchange student from Minnesota, and as soon as we settled in, we broke out the Reese's and the cameras. Pruthvi taught me how to wrap a sari and we played dress-up in her beautiful Indian clothes.  

After dinner, a talent show, a snowball fight, and a bazillion more pictures, everyone headed upstairs for the 11:30 curfew. However, Pruthvi and I decided to take a little detour, and we snuck into the kitchen on the second floor for hot chocolates before joining everyone. It was so beautiful; all the lights were off, but there was moonlight streaming through the curtains and we watched the snow falling while we sipped our hot chocolates in a corner where no one would find us. 

I honestly don't think anyone got any sleep the whole night. Tons of exchange students congregated in the Brazilians' room at 11:30 and we stayed there until 3:30 before heading back to our own rooms. After that, we continued talking until about 6:30. We had several people throughout the night coming in through our balcony window, staying for a few minutes, and then balcony hopping to the next room over. No one wanted to sleep, and we all had plans to stay up for the sunrise. Unfortunately, the sunrise was mostly hazy blue and gray, so there was no more point staying up after we discovered that. I got an hour of sleep and woke up at 7:30 for breakfast. (I could have slept an extra 2 hours, but believe me, I am never one to turn down food!)

On Sunday, we all took a snow-shoeing excursion in the mountains. This one only lasted about 5 hours, and it was so much easier than the one I went on with my host family few weekends earlier. No one actually wanted to go after pulling a successful all-nighter, but I actually had a really nice time, and the scenery in this picture speaks for itself. 

Needless to say, by the end of the weekend, we were all exhausted. My host parents came to pick us up and we reluctantly said our goodbyes. Danny and Daniel (the two exchange students living in Valence) were asleep and snoring before we pulled out of the driveway. Carolina and I followed soon after and for   the first time all weekend, all was quiet.