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.

The Life of an Exchange Student

                                               Les Arènes de Nîmes

5 months. I have no idea how these 5 months flew past so quickly; but they have and now half of my exchange is over. I'm not sure how I feel about this. On one hand, I'm looking forward to going home, hanging out with family and friends, cuddling with my kitties, getting back into a routine of playing the piano, and eating my parents' delicious food every night for dinner, but on the other hand, I've fallen in love with my life in France. I love my host families, I love Privas, I love the French language and culture, and I really love being an exchange student.

Let me clarify a little more on the last claim I made and you too will understand why life as an exchange student is so awesome. I've compiled a little list that explains:

1. You eat a lot of food. Both of my host families are composed of excellent cooks, and you get to eat so much new food you didn't even know existed. This afternoon, I went to the supermarket with Bibiane and I counted 11 different cream/yogurt desserts that were put in the cart and I probably even missed some. There was chocolate mousse, caramel pudding, coffee mousse pudding with cream on top, chestnut cream mousse, drinkable yogurt, natural yogurt, regular yogurt, regular coffee pudding, and more. I used to eat a yoplait and call it day. Not in France! Plus, you have the freedom to secretly run to the nearest supermarket and stock up on foreign chocolate and junk food with your Rotary allowance. At the beginning of the year, I told myself, "Alright, I'll start eating better tomorrow." Now that I'm 5 months in, my argument is more like, "No biggie, I'll totally eat better next year."

2. You sleep a lot. As an exchange student, you don't really have to do much of anything. Last year, I was flooded with homework, college applications, practicing piano, and my jobs. On average, I got about 6 hours of sleep per night, and you would often find me reading old English literature in the bathtub in the middle of night to keep from falling asleep. Here, none of that applies and I can actually go to bed when I'm tired. For example, last night I had a bad headache and wasn't feeling my peachy-keen self, so I went to bed early, slept a full 12 hours, and am back to feeling in good health today.

3. You get to watch a lot of movies. The following picture shows my extracurricular activities for the next week. In addition, the best thing about this is you can use this activity as an excuse for learning the language. (Also, if Cioci Heather is anywhere out there reading this, I've also started knitting in front of the television. So far, I've made a really ugly rectangley-square thing that has a bunch of snags and holes in the middle, but I'm sure it'll get better...)

4. You get to travel a lot. Being the foreign kid has a lot of advantages and this is one of the best. People want to take you all over to show off the best their country. So far, I have been taken to Lyon, Paris, Annecy, the Mediterranean, the Alps, and a bazillion other smaller cities. Host families will take you on day trips to castles and hikes in the mountains. My latest trip was to Nîmes last weekend with Mathilde (an absolutely gorgeous city with beautiful weather), and this weekend I'm going to St. Sorlin d'Arves (in the Alps) for a Rotary weekend. It's because I was an exchange student that I was asked to go on the exchange in Germany before Christmas, and it is partially why I get to go on another week-long exchange in April to Spain. In addition, I'm taking a big tour of Europe in June with the other exchange students (France, Germany, Austria, Czech Republic, Italy, and Switzerland). You don't even have to look for travel because it always finds you first.

As you see, I will certainly miss my life in France when I return to America this summer. So far, this has been one incredible journey, and I still can't wait to see what's around the corner. And before you hate me for my wonderful life, I can assure you there are never-ending trials and obstacles that come along with the perks; a lack of social life, difficulties with foreign language, no friends in school, and a plethora of embarrassing moments have all been the unwelcome effects of my exchange. Luckily, I'm here to tell you that it's possible to throw all the worries and negativities aside, and when you accomplish that, la vie est belle!

Goodbye English

The other night I had a terrible nightmare that the Dollé's took me on an intense spelunking trip. I'd forgotten my coat and my gloves, and I didn't have enough food and water for the week-long trek in the freezing cold. It was a terrible nightmare and the sad thing is, after waking up, I was still scared that something similar would happen in reality. I absolutely love the Dollé's, but I honestly cannot keep up with them. This weekend, my host parents are going on a 2 day cross-country skiing trip in the mountains (complete with sleeping bags). I was lucky to get out of it this time because I'm going to Nîmes with Mathilde, but there won't always be an excuse.

Now that I've said that little piece, I'll shift things in a completely different direction: the French language. I have often shared my troubles and victories in learning French, and I'm going to do it yet again. About a week ago, I decided to take a little more radical approach to mastering my new tongue. I've cut out reading English books and watching Desperate Housewives :( (and other films) in English, and have substituted them with all things French. This weekend, I finished my first real French novel (Oscar et la Dame Rose - 100 pages) and watched three or four movies in French. I haven't even let myself watch them with English subtitles. I'm starting to listen to French language tapes and am currently memorizing approximately 15 new vocabulary words per day. Right now, I understand enough to follow the plots and understand some jokes and dialogue, but I'm still having a little trouble with verb conjugations and comprehension.

The only connection I have to English is this blog and the occasional Skype call. All these changes haven't been exactly fun, but I want to be as fluent as possible. Some people could probably stretch the truth a little and say that I'm bilingual now, but I'm still not bilingual by my standards. My main problem is that I continue to think in English. I need to go back to Germany, because for some strange reason, while I was there, all my thoughts were in French. I've gotten in a terrible habit of daydreaming in classes and at the dinner table when I should really be trying to follow the French. But, like most things in life, easier said than done. It takes so much effort to concentrate on things you don't always understand, and it's an automatic response to resort to daydreaming in English.

My goal now is to be fluent in April for when my sister and my mom visit. I'm going to translate everything and I'm looking forward to the day when I can proudly say, "Yes, I am fluent in French." That day will be the most satisfying day of my life, and I'm going to do everything possible to make sure it comes sooner than later.

Time Traveling in Paris

This weekend, I finally got to Paris for the first time! Kind of. (It wasn't exactly the part of Paris most people see.) The Dollé's were invited to 1930s, Charleston-themed Parisian wedding (France is a decade behind, I know), and I, the temporary, semi-family member, also went along as a guest (I'm not sure what else you would call it.) Considering I didn't know the bride or the groom, or even their names for that matter, I guess I was kind of a wedding crasher. Depends how you look at it. Anyway, it was an absolutely fantastic weekend, and I can tell you now that it will be difficult to fit all the highlights into this post!

We drove to Paris early Saturday morning and the ride was a little over 6 hours. We arrived at the Mairie, or town hall, in the south of Paris for the ceremony. (I saw the Eiffel Tower and Sacre Coeur from the car, but that was about it.) I was surprised to find out that all marriages have to be held at the Mairie. Only the mayor is allowed to pronounce a couple "man and wife"; no priests have the right to do this under national law. Some couples decide to have a ceremony at a church after the official ceremony, but it seems like it would be kind of a downer to be married twice in the same day. The ceremony at the town hall was short, informal, and unemotional if you compare it to a standard church wedding. It was about 30 minutes long, and only so many guests could fit into the small room. No organ was playing, no songs were sung, the vows were brief, and people were dressed in regular clothes. It was very different from all the weddings I have been to before, but like always, there was a beautiful bride and a groom grinning from ear to ear.

After the official marriage, we went to the hotel to change into our 1930s costumes and headed over to the reception, which was in an old mansion on the banks of the Seine. It was absolutely gorgeous and classy, but at the same time there wasn't anything stuck-up or pretentious about it. The atmosphere was comfortable, and the setting was beautiful. From about 6-8, there were drinks and appetizers being served. Everyone was either holding a champagne glass and listening to the jazz singer by the grand entrance, gathering around the large fireplace for lively conversation, or taking pictures of the bride and groom at every available moment. The couple looked so happy all night long, and they were such good hosts. Even though they didn't know me before the wedding, they both greeted me warmly by name and had my gifts and place setting all planned out.

The wedding party reminded me of a mini-Rotary exchange group. There were people from all over the world and family and friends had flown thousands of miles to take part in the marriage. The groom was from France, but several of his family members flew in from Madagascar to celebrate. The bride and her family were from Nouvelle Calédonie, a small island in the Pacific, and then there was me, the lone American. My gifts from the wedding party included vanilla, handmade baskets, and soap flown in with the matron of honor herself all the way from Madagascar. I have literally, no joke, spent all afternoon smelling the fragrant sticks of vanilla sitting on my desk.

Dinner started at around 9 pm and finished right around midnight. The food was delicious; crab cakes with avocado and salsa for a starter, chicken with silky-smooth mashed potatoes and vegetables in a really expensive-tasting mushroom sauce for an entrée, a salad with cheese and fig bread after the meal, and for dessert, a table filled with mini cakes, chocolate fondue, and fruit. To top it all off, there was an endless amount of champagne and wine from Bordeaux, and oh my goodness, my mouth is watering again.

The dancing began at around midnight. The jazz music of the 1920s transitioned into modern music and everyone shook off whatever fatigue they were feeling to begin dancing the night away. There were a lot of French songs, but there were also a lot of the American standards like YMCA and Cotton-Eyed Joe. When the Cotton-Eyed Joe started playing, I got really excited and jumped up to the dance floor; finally, one song I knew! I started doing the dance in front of everyone, and then stopped short when I realized no one else was doing anything even slightly resembling the cotton eyed joe. I have never felt like more of a hill-billy in my life. Songs might hold true from country to country, but don't expect the dance to.

We headed back to the hotel at 3 am, and the party was still going strong when we left. I finally got to bed at 4, only to have to wake right back up (or so it felt) to go to the brunch the morning after. Brunch was in the same mansion, and it was just as beautiful during the day. Sun was shining through the huge windows, and everyone was sitting down to a lovely buffet feast. We stayed for about 3 hours and left in the early afternoon for the long drive back to Privas. It was a beautiful weekend, and I wish Sebastian and Sara (I finally found out their names) a long, happy life together!

I'm Dead, Man

Let me just start this off by saying I tend to exaggerate when I write my post entries. This is not one of those times.

Today was the most painful day of my life. My host parents took me snowshoeing in the mountains for the whole day, and when I eagerly agreed to go, I was not expecting an onslaught of physical pains that took place during 9 long hours.

When I woke up at 6 a.m. this morning, I was looking forward to a day that would break the inevitable cabin fever that always works its way into your bones during winter. I was all prepared with warm clothes and a pair of boots that my host dad, Patrick, lent to me (I know I have big feet.) Anyway, I went with my host parents and a group of 6 other intense hikers that all belong to a sports club in Privas. All of them convinced me today would be a slow, easy trail that was just for fun. Sounded good to me!

That lie quickly revealed itself at the start of the trail. I should have known; we were snowshoeing in the Alps with a bazillion mountains for the whole day. The whole day. The wind was constantly against us and it was freezing cold. I also literally climbed a mountain. Plus a whole lot of other big hills. You can imagine me at the back of the pack, shedding a tear whenever I saw the next steep incline ahead.

I brought my camera to take lots of pretty pictures of the trek, but I came out with one. I took it at the beginning. The rest of the time, I was too tired to take my camera out of my pocket. Luckily, Bibiane was taking lots of pictures, and she told me she would send them all to me.

By the end of the day, I literally couldn't move; I had nasty blisters plastered all over my feet, I couldn't push myself to climb the next hill, I was thirsty but had drank all my water, and there were aches spearing through every muscle in my body. I did my best to not break down and start crying, and I actually managed to keep my composure if you throw aside the several tears that cascaded down my face (because of the wind, of course.) It was the most physically difficult thing I have ever done.

Right now, I'm sitting at my computer, unable to move my legs or my bandaged feet. Good thing I have a wheely chair that will help me get to my bed. Patrick offered to write me a note to come in late tomorrow, so I'm definitely taking him on his offer. I'm just absolutely dreading feeling the after-pain that comes with a long day's hard work, but maybe, just maybe, this will get me out of accrosport on Wednesday. Fingers crossed!

New Year Adjustments

Happy New Year! I know that I'm a little late in saying it, but fortunately, it's still 2012. I've stalled writing this entry for a while because of a faulty internet connection, but it seems to be working now, so here's what you missed the past few days -

I'm all settled in with the Dollé's, and I lucked out with another very nice family, even though moving day was difficult. I'm not much of a crier, but every time I thought about leaving the Delenne's or heard a song on the radio that brought back various memories of France, (pretty much every song) I teared up. Between the multiple and random outbursts at the dinner table, in the car, and on the sofa playing video games, I was an emotional wreck. By the time 5:30 rolled around, all my suitcases were in the car and I said goodbye to Nella and Montée de Tauleac. Anne, Charlotte, and Antoine accompanied me to my new family and I said goodbye to them after a cup of tea. It was not a pretty sight on my part. Between sobs, I was trying to convince my new host family that, "Oh it's not you; I'm really happy to move in with you!" Not my best first impression. My new host family was probably thinking "Dear Lord, what did we get ourselves into?"

Several days have passed with the Dollé's and things are running smoothly. Like every new encounter, there are plenty of awkward moments when you can't think of things to say, but they are a really good family and I think my next three months with them will be just dandy.

I spent New Year's Eve with Mathilde (my new host sister) and some of her friends. The only disappointing part of the evening was also ironically the moment everyone had been waiting for: midnight. Maybe I'm just used to lots of cheers and confetti and the big ball dropping in New York City (which by the way, seems to be getting smaller and smaller throughout the years), but nothing really happened in France. There was a small countdown on the t.v., but after that, nada. Anti-climatic is the only word I can think of to correctly express the start of the new year.

School started again today, and things are becoming routine-like again. One plus of living with the Dollé's is that school is a 3 minute walk from the house. I now get to wake up a half hour later than usual and come home for lunch. This location couldn't be more convenient; especially on thursdays when I've got 4 hours of no class in the middle of the day. I see some more movie watching in my future!

On my first night with the Dollé's, Bibiane (my new host mom) asked me if I had homework. That one took me by surprise. Homework; what's that again? Homework has been absolutely the last thing on my mind all year. Let's face it, I didn't even pick up the textbooks at the beginning of the year, and I still don't have them, but in my defense, this laziness isn't completely my fault. Anne asked the school for the books twice and I even did once on my own, but I never got them. Lack of textbooks has always been one of my many excuses for not doing my homework (along with the fact that I don't understand it and I already graduated, etc...) and it's been working out pretty well for me so far. Not sure how it's going to hold out for this family.

This afternoon, I saw the Delenne's for the first time since I moved. I went over to their house after school for a few hours. It was so good to see them, but it made me miss my second home and family so much! Anne told me that when I left, Antoine cried and cried all the way home and again in his bedroom that night. I truly see Antoine as my little brother, and I was just as happy as Antoine (if not more so) to spend the afternoon with him. At the end of the year, I fully intend on bringing him back home with me.

That's it for now folks! Hope you have a wonderful 2012, and I'll keep you all informed how mine is going.