Hamilton à St-Étienne... and back

...and back

2009-08-28T16:48:00.003+02:00

Last update, I was headed to Corinth. Since then, I've visited ancient Corinth and modern and ancient Athens.

More interestingly, I arrived in Hamilton yesterday afternoon. One night sleeping in the airport, 14 hours of flights, from Athens to Zurich, from Zurich to Toronto, and a seven hour time change - this should have made me exhausted. Instead, I ate dinner with plates in a house with my family, began unpacking, slept the night, and woke up energized at 6:45 am.

It doesn't feel like I've been gone that long. As I stood by the baggage conveyor belt in YYZ, it felt like I'd gone on a three-week trip. Other things surprised me. Coming out into the arrivals hall, I saw four grown men, and I could no longer pick out my dad as the tallest one. Nowadays, Ted, Roland and Marcel are also part of the six-foot club.

I think Canada is just lovely. There's a lot of grass here, everywhere. The roads are wide. Vehicles are new. I understand every single word on the radio. You don't have to pay for grocery carts at Food Basics.

Home is lovely too. The bathroom is spa-like, and my twin bed feels like a king-size bed at the Royal York with high thread-count Egyptian sheets. When I walk to the kitchen for a glass of water, there's always somebody there to talk to. The washer functions without coins, and if you ever need to call somebody long-distance, there's a phone.

The really unusual part is that I no longer have to jump at the chance of a long-distance phone call, a bookstore that carries foreign literature, or a conversation with someone who speaks English in the tram.

That is all. I am home, and it is good to be home.

Kalimera from Kriti

2009-08-17T15:06:00.002+02:00

I'm at the port of Heraklion, Crete, heading out this evening to Piraeus. The plan was to stop in Santorini, but as the next ferry is two days from now, we've decided to return north early, and visit Corinth and Mycenae instead. We should be in Athens by Friday, where we'll do our last several days of sightseeing before moving to Canada.

Quick Shout-out from Crete

2009-08-13T17:58:00.003+02:00

Since Rome, we spent a couple days (!) on ferries, buses and such, and are now spending a week in Hania, a town on Crete. The ferries themselves were an experience, with the near-theft of my purse and sleeping under the stars with no land in sight. Now we're eating feta cheese, spanokopita and cheese pies, swimming in the Mediterranean, and enjoying a slight break from active sightseeing. Tomorrow we're doing a 16 km hike of the Samaria Gorge, apparently the deepest in Europe.

Next week, we'll be in Santorini, and the following week in Athens, for a last stint of intellectual touring in the ancient city. 14 days till we fly home!

Vienna, Venice, Rome

2009-08-02T21:31:00.002+02:00

Just a quick update from my Rome hostel here.

Following our stay in Prague, we took a train to Vienna, where we stayed only two nights. The city was pretty; we visited an art history museum, we went to the beach, we caught two free concerts, and we visited the cemetery where Strauss, Beethoven and Bach are buried, although we were unable to find their tombstones (we were running close to closing time.)

We also visited Venice for two nights - scared off by prices, we decided to only spend a short time there. The city is super cool, and run over by tourists as can be expected during the summer. It was really hot, but the metro system is actually all ferries, which was a great excuse to spend time on boats. It was interesting to see how the Venetians actually use the rivers and canals as a highway in daily life.

Yesterday we arrived in Rome late in the afternoon. We have a great hostel here, a fifth floor flat in a nice district just ten minutes walking from the Vatican, and we'll be settled here until Friday. It's gross hot here, but there's lots to see. Late last night we visited the Trevi Fountain with a group of Americans in our hostel, as we'd heard that it's lit up beautifully at night. This morning we went to mass at St. Peter's Basilica, which was less spectacular than I'd imagined. The church is beautiful, though, and they had a great choir, and I could understand most of the Latin and a surprising amount of Italian being spoken in the mass.

Other than that, we've just been catching our breath in order to do lots of sightseeing this week. I'm hoping to do a really extensive tour of the Vatican, as well as the ancient city of Rome. We're contemplating going to Pompei on Friday, just for the afternoon, before we go to Bari to catch the ferry to Patra. (Pompei is the city buried by the lava and ash of an erupting Mt. Vesuvius in 79 AD, and just rediscovered in the 1500s.)

Those are basically our travel plans for the next week. Rome has been great to us so far (except for a bird-dropping episode earlier today, and Amanda's super-vomit-rocious motion sickness on the way here yesterday) and we're enjoying every minute of traveling. We're coping well with the heat, meeting lots of interesting people, and getting really good at picnicking and hostel-sink laundry. Although we have free internet here, I won't be able to post any photos, so I'll have to share them once I go to Canada, in only 25 (!) days.

Hamburg, Berlin, Prague

2009-07-24T20:58:00.003+02:00

I'm starting to realize that blogging once a week feels inadequate with the amount of traveling I'm doing now. In the winter, there was nothing to say about life in St.Étienne. Last week, we spent a couple of days in Hamburg. It's the kind of city that doesn't have tons to see, but was still a cool place to be. Pretty far north, so I was glad to have kept my coat and scarf on me. It's a big port, and we met a lot of Scandinavians, as it's surprisingly close to Denmark. We visited museums, walked the city, and attended a Lutheran church on Sunday. I had assumed it was catholic, until I opened the hymnbook, and saw a Martin Luther quote -in German- on the first page. I enjoyed window-shopping in the shoe stores, as they carry women's shoes in size 44!

Monday we left for Berlin, and we had such a great time there. It's full of things to do - we did a walking tour of the city, saw the Berlin wall, visited the Holocaust museum, climbed the Reichstag -German parliament- at night, ate currywurst, saw Checkpoint Charlie, and went to the Jewish history museum, where 2.5 hours only got me half-way through the exhibit. There were a lot of other reminders of Berlin's history - we could have visited a concentration camp, a museum on Hitler and his plans for Germania, an exhibit on communism in the GDR and many other things if we had had time.

Yesterday we arrived in Prague. So far it's been excellent, despite unusual first impressions. The money is so confusing - 25 CZK to the $CAD - but the Czech speak a lot of English, and the city is beautiful. Today we visited a castle on a hill and walked a lot. Tomorrow we're taking a walking tour, and going to a dance event with a girl in our hostel who's here for a dance workshop. The hostel here is great, with a kitchen, so we can cook here and feel at home.

I was hoping to post pictures, but there's a line at the computer here, so maybe later.

Gent & Hamburg

2009-07-17T12:16:00.002+02:00

Sooo... We spent a couple days in Gent, which is a great university city. They were preparing for a 10-day music festival which we will miss, but there was still lots to see. We drank cherry-flavoured beer (Kriek) and stayed in an ok hostel with great breakfasts (broodjekaas, koffie, sinaasapplesap). We toured a great old cathedral, one of many in a 200-metre radius, with a Lutheran guide from Germany. As it's catholic, many statues were destroyed by the calvinists in the late 1500s, leaving the facade looking fractioned.

Yesterday, we took an early train to Brussels, in order to meet up with a friend before connecting to the Hamburg train. We missed each other (due to traffic, etc.) but caught the train without a problem. The high-speed train was really great - all plush seats and wood panelling - but sadly its signals were not functioning. We turned back to a different city, switched to a traditional rail. Because of the inconvenience of missing connecting trains, and time lost, the conductor announced (in French, German, Flemish and English) that we could all go order drinks on the house. So I got a huge cup of hot chocolate (Germany likes large beverages more than France, I suppose) AND we ended up connecting to the right train without a delay anyway!

We got into Hamburg around 7:30, and got to the hostel around 9:30 (don't even ask). At the moment it's thunderstorming outside, so we're doing all the planning we can on-line for the next couple weeks.

News from Brugge/Bruges

2009-07-13T11:20:00.002+02:00

So, Dad, Roland, and many pairs of shoes are home in Canada; they flew out Friday morning. Amanda and I left for Brussels that day, and we are now in Bruges, a small Venice of the North. Belgium is enjoyable: I can speak French and get my way around, and I can eat broodjekaas and shop at the Hema. I like it.

I've met a lot of people in hostels, at the music festival in Brussels, at the Youth Info Centre of Brussels and by participating in a flashmob through CouchSurfing (more details on Amanda's blog); this has helped in planning which cities we'll visit, and getting general tips.

This week, we'll be spending three days in Ghent, then we'll head over to Hamburg for the weekend and onto Berlin next week.

Normandy, Part I

2009-07-05T17:43:00.004+02:00

Kilometre Zero in Paris, right in front of Notre-Dame Cathedral

The bakery under our Paris hotel - Dad sneaked in to take this photo

Us - moving up north to Normandy

The old port of Honfleur

Since the last post, I've successfully moved all my stuff (one backpack, two grocery bags, one hatbag *cough, Nicolette*) out of my apartment, and Amanda and I met up with my dad and Roland in Paris. While I do not recommend moving on public transit in July heat, I've had a great week since.

On Wednesday, after settling, we walked from the Arc de Triomphe to the Louvre, wandered the centre, and went out for dinner. Thursday we went up the Eiffel Tower, which I hadn't done yet. We had a picnic in the Luxembourg Gardens, visited Notre-Dame Cathedral and the Shakespeare and Co. bookstore. We shopped on Rue de Rivoli, and found some stylish shoes for Roland, and with some arm-twisting, my dad. We ate out in Montmartre.

Friday morning early, we were headed with all of our stuff to Gare St-Lazare, and caught the train to Caen. After some seating confusion, we made it to Caen, picked up our rental car, and settled in Honfleur. I was worried Honfleur would be boring, so I figured we'd have to visit Le Havre (across the Seine estuary). So far, we've been totally intrigued with the medieval port town. There's a huge beach, lots of ancient buildings, and plenty of sailboats, including a group from the Netherlands. Apparently Samuel de Champlain left from the port of Honfleur before heading to Canada.

Yesterday, my dad and I were up early, so we hit the market, which took over the entire core. We bought picnic stuff for today: baguette, wine, Camembert cheese, St-Jean cheese, pâté, fresh peaches, cherries, apples and apricots from south France, and some vegetables. Later we all drove west on the coast to Trouville and Deauville, then took a boat tour of the Seine. We went out for mussels last night.

This morning we went to a church built in the 14th century, then drove to a peak overlooking the city and harbour, where we had a picnic. Tomorrow we're off to Etrétat, and Tuesday to Mont-St-Michel.

Last Post from St-Étienne

2009-06-30T12:36:00.003+02:00

Sunday, we had church in the countryside, about 40 minutes driving from St-Étienne.

A family let us use their beautiful backyard.

Lucille, 10 ans.

Post-picnic chilling, from left: Amanda, Lucille, Maryke, Clyrena, Jeannie.

Quenelles, a food specific to Lyon. You could compare it to a dumpling.

On Thursday, we took a final day trip to Lyon, visited the Musée des Beaux-Arts, went to the zoo park, and for dinner. From left: Luke, Amanda R., David, Amanda P., Melissa.

As I write this, my dad and my brother Roland are 40 minutes from landing in Paris Charles de Gaulle. My apartment is upside-down, I'm madly scratching things off the to-do list, booking hostels, getting rid of leftover food, taking down posters, and cleaning my bathroom before my room inspection.

I'm sending home some books, a pile of transcripts (all signed and sealed for grad school applications this fall), extra clothes, school notes from the semester.

But so far the biggest task has been remembering who to say good-bye to when, sending good-bye/thank-you cards, having good-bye dinners, teas, ice creams.

I'm feeling pretty organized. I have to write an exchange report yet, and meet up with some friends tonight for the last time. I have to put my stuff in a bag, but that's the easiest part of packing.

And now that my dad and brother are in my time zone, they've become physical, existing realities that have my mind worrying about the logistics of them getting themselves to their hotel. It's funny how it happens. All year long, I know my family's there, swimming and sailing and going to work and school, but as soon as they visit, they become real live people who need food and lodging, no longer fuzzy far-away images.

This summer, I've got a lot planned (well, not quite planned, but in the books). After seeing Normandy with my dad and brother, Amanda and I will head north to Brussels and Gent, east to Germany, south through Prague and Vienna to Italy. We'll see the main cities in Italy and take a ferry from Bari, Italy, to Piraeus, Greece. On the 27th of August, we fly Athens-Zurich-Toronto.

I'm trying to do this with as few possessions as possible, so I won't have my laptop. I'll be posting as much as I can from internet cafés, though.

End of Year Report

2009-06-23T18:14:00.003+02:00

I'm almost out of this town, as evidenced by my to-do list, which now includes things like: close bank account, buy good-bye gifts, and write exchange report.

Tomorrow the pastor's wife is coming to pick up stuff that I'm getting rid of: dishes, duvet, non-perishable food. I'm applying for scholarships, sending letters, stacking books, preparing transcripts, planning a final dinner party for our building, as well as a last day trip to Lyon.

Last week we had our last international dinner at the foreign language institute. Amanda made some awesome potato salad.

This past weekend was International Music Day, and there were groups playing in nearly every street corner. The city lifted noise laws for the weekend.

One group played on old garbage bins.
The old part of the city was packed.

June Update, Random Edition

2009-06-14T18:15:00.004+02:00

School - over. I did my last exam Monday, and they've all gone quite well. Now I'm in the process of figuring out the credits I got, how they correspond to courses offered at McMaster, and then which courses I should sign up for in the fall.

Health - I was sick for a good five days. I wanted to blame it on this outdated Camembert I ate, but then Amanda wasn't feeling well either.

Travels - During bouts of functioning Internet, I'm planning this summer. We're moving out 1 July, and quite ready.

Friends - Our American friends moved back to Michigan this week, and we're regularly saying good-bye's to the international students in our building.

What we did yesterday - Our uni put on a year-end music festival in St-Victor (where we had the BBQ.) This time there was a free shuttle to the medieval village on the top of the cliff. The village (hamlet? cluster of homes?) overlooks the Loire river on three sides, and seems to be a hot spot for wedding photography; we saw three couples yesterday.

View from the top of St-Victor

Story about St-Victor - In the middle of the lake now used for sailing (behind Amanda), there used to be a village. When the dam broke, the whole place was flooded. Every ten years, the dam is blocked again so you can visit the village.

Picnic on the Lake

2009-06-04T16:06:00.005+02:00

Yesterday for my birthday, a bunch of us decided to have a barbecue at the lake. In St-Victor-sur-Loire, there's a small beach, greenspace, and the Loire river running through. You can even rent sailboats and paddleboats. So we went to Auchan and picked up burger stuff and a disposable barbecue, which was new to me.

Then we walked downtown to catch a bus. We got on the first one, and Ella's ticket wouldn't validate. Three stops later, the transit officers came on. I slipped a demagnetized ticket to Amanda R., so she was okay. But Ella got hauled off and the bus left without her. She got out of the ticket, though, and joined us 15 minutes later while we were waiting for our transfer. Eventually we caught the next bus, and drove through the countryside. We arrived at a northern-Ontario-style bus stop, walked 15 minutes down an uninhabited road, and ended up at at a great park-lake-beach.

It was great, and my friends surprised me with cake and candles! I don't have any pictures though :(.

A burger. Off the barbecue. In France.
Dave (Irish)
Siobhan and Gill (Australian) figuring out the barbecue.
Us and some randoms walking to the beach.
Ella (Irish) and her feta salad.
Arthur-Guelph Amanda and Oakville Amanda
Gill working the lasagna-pan grill.
Tamra (Alaska) cycled the 1-hour bus ride to join us.
Post-food chilling.
Beach!

Paris Weekend

2009-06-02T19:26:00.004+02:00

**Update: You can access the Facebook photos here.**

This past weekend Amanda, myself and three other friends headed up to Paris, as there was a package deal through the International Centre. Friday night we said good-bye to our friend Rachel, who's heading back to Virginia, and early Saturday morning (after slight mishaps of not setting alarms and injuring feet on broken glass on the sidewalk) we were off. We rode a coach bus, which is technically a luxurious method of transport. Unfortunately, the rows of seats were spaced so narrowly that no decently tall person could sit upright, and there was minimal air conditioning.

We spent the afternoon in Versailles. Since the weather was gorgeous and the admission fees were pretty steep, we opted to visit just the gardens. (Some French people had told us that the exterior was more impressive anyway.) We had a picnic and walked through the park for a couple hours - there was some music being played through the trees, and the 800 acres of greenspace was more than we'd seen in a while.

We bused to our hotel in central Paris, and settled into our hotel. We were exhausted from being up early, being in the sun and walking, so the five of us went to a nearby McDo for dinner. We got picnic stuff for the weekend, and had an early night.

Sunday morning, we figured we'd go to a church service in Sainte-Chapelle, a famed church on the island. Once we got there, we realized it was only a tourist venue. We walked around the island, then heard some music from another church, St-Louis-sur-l'Île, so we went there. In the afternoon, the weather was again beautiful, so we lay in the grass on the banks of the Seine, picnicked and read. Later we met up with our friends in the Jardin de Tuileries and walked down the Champs-Élysées toward the Arc de Triomphe as the sun was setting.

Monday we had planned to visit the Musée d'Orsay, but it was closed for Pentecost. Amanda and I went to the Panthéon, a basilica turned into a famous burial place after the Revolution. The building was expansive, with canvas paintings glued to the walls. In the crypt underneath, we saw names like Rousseau, Voltaire, Zola, Curie, and Braille. We went out for lunch, and then met up with Ella, Amanda R., and Luke for a boat cruise.

After that we had a bit of time so we went to Shakespeare and Co. Bookstore. It's the most photographed bookstore, and I actually bought a book so that I'd get the stamp inside that says, "Shakespeare and Co., Kilometre 0 Paris." Then we went back to the bus, and made it back late that night.

*Pictures to arrive at a later time, when internet is better.*

And then some days it rains yogourt...

2009-05-24T20:16:00.005+02:00

Today after church, one of the congregants stood up to announce that he had too much yogourt, and was inviting all the students (or anyone else) to come and take some off his hands. I assumed that he was exaggerating, and maybe had a 12-pack to get rid of, so Rachel and I headed over for a visit and unashamed food pickup.

Over the past couple weeks, I've been succeeding in banishing words like coffee, cheese and yogourt from my vocabulary. But today I stood in front of his fridge and it was literally packed (I can't think of a non-cliché expression) with yogourt, cheese and all things dairy.

France knows how to make dairy products.

And today they all came raining down.

I'm going to eat a cheese sandwich.

Happy 24th on the 24th!

2009-05-24T19:52:00.001+02:00

Happy Anniversary.

May Update, Random Style

2009-05-17T16:51:00.007+02:00

Today is GREAT weather. We went to church, and there was a baby dedication, so we had a lunch - outside! Maisie (the little girl) is the youngest of the three kids we babysit.

We had a Chinese meal because Élisa's mom (the baby who was dedicated) is Chinese and her dad is French. A bunch of us got together Saturday morning to prep the food, which required my rarely-used vegetable chopping skills. We even made nems!

Rachel, Amanda and I. Rachel's from Virginia - we met her at a strike meeting back in January, when we were all confused.

This week we only ended up having one day of classes. All that liberation.

Canadians are starting to leave for the old country already. I can't believe it, but we're into good-bye parties now. Clancy and Andrea made us crepes. Andrea has a great recipe from her Romanian grandmother, and Clancy added a Canadian touch with some Kraft peanut butter.

This week is Piano Passion Festival in St-Étienne, and I had a free ticket, so I went. There were four Russian women, and they alternated playing in two, four, six and (for the encore) eight hands! The theatre was hidden in the Jardin de Plantes, but was really posh inside - red velvet seats, two 9-ft Steinways back-to-back, and during the intermission, we sampled local wines and sausage. I love France.

St-Étienne is so nice right now - I snapped a photo of the rhododendrons and other flowers while walking downtown the other day. Don't you all want to come live here?

Yesterday and today there's a block party for our 'quartier,' so I went over. There were local artists, and a big garage sale, since garage saling is restricted to one day a year for the French. And of course I bought a French hot dog - a hollowed out baguette with a scarily red-tinted hot dog.

Last night we went to a football match. St-Étienne is known for its 'foot' and the team ASSE was playing Toulouse. They tied 2-2. This was also part of the ongoing good-bye festivities for the Canadians. We went out for kebab afterward.

The weather was perfect, and the days are long.

Here's live footage of the game - right after the stéphanois scored. And that's our Canadian friend Clancy screaming into the camera.

Strike Encore

2009-05-14T14:28:00.003+02:00

I took this picture of Marseillais students off Le Monde, a national newspaper. Wait, you say, didn't you just finish telling us that you were back to school after five months off?

Well, technically yes. We were in school full-time (except for the one organized strike day - banalisé - each week, and multiple long weekends in May.) We were taking notes, writing essays, and scrambling to fit more course hours into the evenings to prepare us for the exams, which were going to happen.

But underneath the semblance of order, the strike raged on quietly. Now I'm going to have to provide a small vocab list to explain this.

la grève - the strike

gréviste - an individual who is striking

une manifestation - a demonstration

un blocage, bloqué - blocking of the university, ie. tables and chairs

AG, Assemblée Générale - a weekly meeting of gréviste and non-gréviste students and professors.

Yesterday, however, two new words were added to our vocabulary:

flic - cop

libération - liberation (it's not as simple as you think)

This is what we saw:

We weren't permitted in the building at all, and no classes were happening. Later on we got the story. At the AG, they were voting whether or not to do a blocage again. I don't know what the outcome was, but yesterday morning, the grévistes and non-grévistes students ended up fighting physically in the university. Khaled Bouabdallah, our president, called the police, who evacuated the building.

When I got to the campus in the afternoon, I asked one of the cops what was happening. He told me, "This is France, and this is our national sport."

Last night, we received an email from the president, saying that the police presence is to liberate the university. I'm not sure how police blocking the entrance is liberating.

This morning I went to class at 8 to see if classes would happen. Our prof was standing outside the gate, and apparently had permission to enter past the cops with her own students. But of course, this would be too simple. Think of rights and freedoms! If we entered the building while the cops were guarding the building, it would be like prison! Mme. Dupas could not allow such a breach of conscience, and so there was no class.

My next class took place in a different, unguarded, unblocked building. My classics professor, who refuses to enter a building guarded by police, told us that if the "cirque" continues, our exams will be "perturbés." We shall see.

Le Monde does daily polls, and several have focused on the strike. Today's was "In the university conflict, who seems responsible in your opinion for the current blocage?" The response at the moment is:

a) the government, which is proving inflexible (25%)

b) the striking students and professeurs, who are trying to outdo (them) (50%)

c) both parties are equally accountable (0%)

d) no opinion (0%)

Ghost Stories, Bordeaux and Fires

2009-05-04T21:33:00.003+02:00

This is the first time in a while that I've had to think about what to post, as I don't have some photos of a recent trip to put up.

Things are going smoothly here in Sté - last week I handed in a couple translations, and presented a seminar on this Latin ghost story. The seminar was pretty intense - 30 minutes presenting, then 30 minutes of questions. I felt really good about it though, and over the weekend, I did three more Latin translation assignments (I was behind, can you tell?) and this afternoon I just handed in a literary essay.

So I'm super busy and productive, and loving it.

In other news, we have a lot of long weekends coming up, and Amanda and I are considering going to Bordeaux for one of them. We also have a long weekend trip planned to Paris, because the international centre organized one at such a low price, I couldn't not go.

Today I was coming home and noticed people in the building across the street were standing in their balconies, and there was a lot of smoke coming from behind. I got closer, and there were fire trucks and stuff, and the fire fighters were putting up caution tape. I sneaked through, and there was smoke pouring out of the building's parking garage. It must not have been serious, because a lot of the residents were just hanging out and watching a couple storeys up. Somehow I think the building would have been evacuated if that happened in Canada.

Paris, Marseille and School(!)

2009-04-25T10:12:00.006+02:00

Easter vacation was just lovely. Nicolette and Ben spent the first weekend with Amanda and me in St-Étienne (not on the map, but an hour from Lyon), and then spent four days in Paris, and four in Marseille. I've already posted photos on Facebook which you can check out here.

It was actually great the way we planned it, because they got over jet lag and we could just hang out the first weekend, then in Paris we were really tourist-y - walking everywhere and seeing everything. By the time we caught the TGV south to Marseille we were totally ready to lie on a beach and do nothing. We got back to Lyon Monday evening, and Nicolette and Ben flew out Tuesday morning early.

That same morning, we had a meeting scheduled with our international advisor - we've been strategizing ways to salvage our credits and semester. Then he arrived and announced that the profs had been ordered back to work only 15 minutes earlier. So right that day I went back to class. It's really weird to be studying, but great at the same time.

We'll have class for five weeks, and then exams. I'm actually overloading on courses (32 credits instead of 30) which allows a margin of error if there's a really impossible exam. I'll be studying really hard for a month, but then hopefully I'll end up with a full semester of credits.

So with school back in action, my weekend is looking pretty studious, as I have two essays and six translations due this week.

They're here!

2009-04-10T18:34:00.002+02:00

Strike Update

2009-04-03T11:31:00.003+02:00

Yesterday afternoon, we Canadians met with our international advisor at the university. We learned that:

1) This is the worst strike since '68.

2) We should start asking our home universities for a tuition refund.

3) We should not count on getting credits. If we'd had even a couple weeks of classes, we could have been examined. With the current situation, there is no material on which we can be tested.

I'm a bit of an exception to #3, as I'm doing independent study for my classics courses. That's to say, I should be able to do 4 out of 9 exams, if they allow exams.

Alpine Adventure, Part III

2009-03-25T18:43:00.002+01:00

Alpine Adventure, Part II

2009-03-25T11:15:00.004+01:00

Near the end of the day, Andrea, a beginner "skieuse," and I decided to head down the beginner slope to finish off our day skiing. We followed the green arrows and chatted as we descended. After a little while I felt that we hadn't seen other skiers in a while. We kept going, figuring that we'd taken a wrong turn but would somehow reach the bottom of the hill to meet our bus.

Our momentum kept us going for quite a while, but then we realized that we were approaching a hill - we had to climb or turn around. This was definitely a snowmobile route, rather than an alpine skiing slope. It was 5:45 at this point, and we realized we weren't going to make the bus. I called a couple friends, but no one picked up. I called the emergency number that had been distributed in the morning and left a message.

Andrea thought it would be best to turn around and start walking. We walked quite a ways, and were seeing how much distance we had quickly covered skiing. My cell phone rang, and thus began a series of phone calls.

Between calls, we discussed what we could do if we stayed overnight. You can imagine this was humourous, because although we're Canadian, we're both city kids. Andrea was thirsty, and began eating snow. We decided we could definitely sleep outside, because it was warm enough, but we'd have to cuddle.

The guy talking to me asked what was wrong.

Me: Ummm... I'm in the middle of nowhere? There are no signs? My bus is leaving? Can you send us a snowmobile?

Him: But you're not injured?

Me: No, but we're exhausted and the sun is setting, and we're about to miss our ride.

Him: You might have to take a taxi.

Me: Can you help me out here?

Him: What colour is the post?

Me: There aren't any posts. There are only trees. We are NOT lost on a slope! We are on a snowmobile trail.

Him: So, do you have camping gear with you to spend the night?

... eventually...

Him: Are you American? Let me pass you on to someone who speaks English.

Me: *stutter*

Other guy: So, you are... lost in ze piste?

Me: Yes, could you send a snowmobile?

... five more minutes of explanation...

Him: I will send a scooter. *click*

Andrea and I: Perfect! *continue eating snow*

6:20pm - Phone rings, it's my friend David: So, like, guys, should I, like, hold the bus? We're, like, waiting.

Me: Ummm, that would be great. My bag, with my appartment key, is on the bus.

Phone rings again, this time it's rescue guy: Melissa? Where are you?

Me: *five minutes explanation*

Him: But you are not injured!

Me: We are lost! We are exhausted! We are late for our bus!

Him: We will send scooter.

Andrea and I: *sigh* Leave it to the Canadians! Might as well take photos. (Remember? Life in France is a photo op.)

15 loooooooooong minutes later, snowmobile appears. Now, ask my sister or friends, I do not believe in hero stories. I had to write one in Grade 9 English, and I was the only kid who did not write about an eleventh-hour rescue by an attractive man. I can take care of myself, thank-you very much.

This was before I spent an hour lost in the French alps. Let me tell you, I was definitely all smiles when Snowmobile Hero arrived. He put our skis on the snowmobile, and while he was telling the Rescue Guy that he had found us, I took a photo of happy Andrea. We then held on tight for a wonderful ride back.

Oh, how we thanked that man! Then we headed into the bus, ski boots still intact, for the walk of shame. Apparently in France this involves clapping and cheering. Oh my.

The adventure didn't end here. When the bus stopped in StÉ, I was unable to dislodge our bags from under the equipment. The bus driver, ever-so-patient with the foreign kids, took us to the next city, made us unload the bus, then drove us back to StÉ.

Andrea decided that the rescue story and snowmobile ride was totally worth the panic of being lost and fact that we held up the bus for nearly an hour. I may agree... in a while.

Alpine Adventure, Part I

2009-03-24T18:30:00.003+01:00

The international centre organized an awesome deal on a bus trip skiing at Les Trois Vallées in Savoie, close enough to be a day trip.

I was prepared for the trip:

25 euro had been paid, which covered 6 hours busing, the lift ticket, the ski and boot rental.

I had borrowed a hat, coat and mittens from my friend Emily.

The alarm clock had been set for 3h30.

I had borrowed snowpants from an acquaintance of an acquaintance.

I had the camera and cell phone charged.

My sunglasses and Nivea lotion stood ready.

What could go wrong?

Nothing, it seemed. I got two hours' sleep, woke up three others in my building who had slept through their alarms. I ate breakfast. I dressed warmly. I met the group at McDo and got on the bus. I slept for an hour while the sun rose and woke up with sunlight shining in my face and mountains in the distance. We got nearer, and drove up bobby-pin-shaped roads, eventually reaching the ski resort. It was beautiful - standing under clear sky, 2 000 metres above sea level, watching the clouds at eye level. Skiing was great - it was warm and sunny, and not to busy as the season is nearing its end.

Happenings in St-Étienne

2009-03-19T14:50:00.004+01:00

So the strike is still in full swing here, and today there was a big manifestation, so naturally I covered the event in photos and videos.

In other news, it's totally spring here, and feels like May in Canada. I LOVE it! I'm going skiing this Saturday with the international group, and Amanda's mom is here for a couple days.

Geneva

2009-03-19T14:02:00.006+01:00

18 hours after returning from London, we were on the train to Geneva. It's surprisingly close, and my cousin (or more correctly, Dad's cousin) Mirna and her husband Jeroen have just moved there from the Netherlands. They kindly took us in over the weekend and showed us their new city. We were surprised to find they don't use the euro, but rather Swiss francs, which are nearly equal to the value of the Canadian dollar.

Friday, Mirna gave us a one-day walking tour, which wasn't too hard, as it's actually a fairly small city of 180 000, 45% of whom are foreigners. We climbed the tower of the Cathédrale St-Pierre, had coffee in the old city, and saw the statues of Jean Calvin which were built in 1909 on his 400th birthday. Despite the snowy mountains surrounding Geneva, it was warm and sunny all weekend, so we walked along the lake, took the ferry across, and photographed the main landmark, the Jet d'Eau. I really like the city - it has mountains, a lake for watersports, and it's pretty happening with shopping, culture and business.

Saturday, we took a téléphérique up Mt. Salève, which gave us a great view of the city. There wasn't much up there, and we hadn't dressed for hiking, so we headed back and drove to Nyon for lunch, about 30 minutes away.

Sunday we went to John Calvin's church, which was pretty cool. It was fuller than I had imagined it would be, but then we realized there were two groups visiting. I met a theology student from Montpellier, who had come with her class for the weekend.

Monday we got back to a sunny (!) St-Étienne, and saw a math lecture being given in front of the train station.

London

2009-03-19T13:30:00.005+01:00

So I'm thinking I should supplement the hastily posted photos of London. We totally loved the city - we were expecting torrential rains, but London failed us, instead delivering sunshine and warmth all week.

We arrived Friday afternoon, bought transit passes and headed straight to our (great!) hostel in Greenwich. We went to Borough Market (under London Bridge) and had an amazing scattered dinner from different vendors. Saturday we actually shopped - there's a great section of Charing Cross Road with tons of book stores and stationers. I found a 1901 copy of Milton's poetry (including Paradise Lost) for only 2 pounds at one of the antique book stores. Then we visited a three-storey stationer, Paperchase, where we ogled the journals, pens, cards and Japanese paper. I bought a cute (also functional :) pencil tin. Then we pretended to go to Hogwart's on Platform 9 3-4 at King's Cross.

Sunday we went to the Sung Eucharist at St. Paul's Cathedral, an Anglican church. It was too cold to picnic, but then we discovered the basement of the cathedral is furnished with tables and couches, so we hung out there. In the evening, we caught the tail end of an organ concert at the Westminster Abbey, and then attended the evening service. It was really a great experience to attend such famous churches, where people have worshiped for over 1000 years.

Monday we spent the day between browsing Harrod's and visiting the National Art Gallery. That evening we found affordable tickets to the musical of Les Misérables at Queen's Theatre. It was played really well, and was special to me as I was reading the book for the first time.

Tuesday we went to the British Museum - it's a massive place, and I've spent a record amount of time in musea this year, so we just saw the ancient stuff - Greece, Egypt, Nineveh.

Wednesday was our last day, so we went to the Royal Observatory in the morning, and visited the Prime Meridian of the world (longitude 0). We even took photos standing on the eastern and western hemispheres at the same time.

Now leaving was another story. We flew with EasyJet, because it's super cheap. No checked baggage, and no weight limit on carry-on luggage - provided it fits in this little metal box. So I had come with my backpack and with some effort (ie. my body weight) it could fit in the box. Check-in Guy was not impressed. After expressing my displeasure at paying 12 pounds to check it, I repacked it, and then put it in again, while Amanda distracted Check-in Guy. We were given our boarding passes, and warned about security.

Leaving Lyon, I passed through security with a shampoo bottle, Nivea lotion, a razor, a sharp umbrella, and multiple other hazardous items.

Not so in Gatwick.

I was pulled aside by a cheerful security guy who informed me that my "brolly" would be confiscated. I thought my brother Roland had made up that word, but apparently it's part of the British vocabulary. After taking away the liquid stuff, he inquired about (and made fun of) our brown-bag lunch, and we were off.

London!

2009-03-12T15:52:00.003+01:00

We got in late last night from London, and had a marvellous time, as you can see here. I will make a longer post later, but we're headed right now to Geneva, to spend the weekend with some Dutch family who's moved there.

Mediterranean Fun

2009-03-03T21:26:00.006+01:00

After getting back from Strasbourg, we stopped by the university to check the strike status. We saw the coffin labelled "Here lies our future. Death of knowledge," and took that as a go-ahead for more traveling.
The next day I was happily on the train to Nice, which is beautifully situated on the Mediterranean.
We arrived in time for Mardi Gras celebrations. To be honest, we watched a bit of the parade, tried to avoid the party spray, and then headed back to our hostel.
Evidence of said party spray the next morning.
We waded in the Mediterranean. It was really cold, and then we got soaked by a big wave.

We didn't really want to see a single museum after Strasbourg, and since the weather was nice, we rented bicycles instead. I considered putting this photo in sepia to hide the fact that I'm wearing three clashing colours, but decided that would detract from the coloured cafés in the background.

This is a view of Nice's waterfront from atop a cliff.

Nice's port.

We were so close to Monaco, that we took the 30-minute train there one day. It's a tiny country, and so wealthy, that it has a disproportionate ratio of yachts to citizens.
The little boat inside the back is a normal sized boat, so you can imagine how big this is.
Some boats are even nice enough to merit the shoes-off rule!
A new building for sail training. That's right, for the 9-year-old's of Monaco.
The harbour of Monaco, viewed from the palace.
The French know how to name their cities. A gorgeous village built into a hillside with lush fruit trees and gardens, sloping to a beach and azure waters, is called "Beautiful-Place-on-the-Sea."
I loved our hostel! Not only was there a clementine tree in the front yard, we had a balcony.

Strasbourg, Kehl, Metz, Luxembourg

2009-03-03T18:50:00.007+01:00

The group of us, from left: Luke, Gillian, Clancy, David, Siobhan, and Amanda. Our first day, we invested in umbrellas to tour in the rain.

Half-timber houses are pretty common here. The city feels like Germany, with its architecture, and like the Netherlands, with its bicycles and canals, but it's francophone.

The cathedral has a massive astronomical clock in it. I was wondering how so much pagan symbolism was permitted, but the detailing shows Christian symbolism incorporated into it.

For example, there are painted images of creation, and the Latin version of Genesis 1:1.

European Parliament! Apparently they are still trying to choose an official language for the government.

The architect of this church was executed after its completion. He was informed that the steeple looked too awkward.

The real Monet painting at the Museum of Modern and Contemporary Art.
And real Picasso!
And the biggest painting I've ever seen.

The Aussies had never seen frozen water (besides ice cubes and such) before. While they were in awe of the ice, we Canadians were in awe of them.

The pedestrian bridge across the Rhine to Kehl, Germany.
A "tortoise and the hare"-themed labyrinth.

Italian fast-food place - this stop was well-earned, after traipsing along the periphery of Metz to find our hostel, and then discover it was closed.

The Palace of Luxembourg - so I'm thinking that if even Luxembourg has a royal family, we Canadians really shouldn't complain about funding a monarch.

Clancy was super excited to visit the Clairefontaine in Luxembourg. She knew the song, which is just beautiful, although I wasn't familiar with it. Clancy sang it to us in her beautiful voice as we walked to the fountain, but we were disappointed to see only concrete where the fountain used to be.

A cool exhibit at the Luxembourg museum that divided us upon entrance. There were questionnaires for visitors, and we followed (via video footage, etc) six different people from six different religions and denominations.

Dijon

2009-03-02T20:33:00.003+01:00

So here are some photos of Dijon, a beautiful city with an obsession with all things owl and mustard. We kind of missed out on the lucky owl on one of the churches, but we did follow the owl walking tour. And being somewhat of a mustard lover, I sought out a sampler pack. The pink mustard (cassis) doesn't really taste like mustard. It's kind of like a raspberry compote with a funky aftertaste.

Lazy Update

2009-02-23T20:09:00.002+01:00

So we got back from Strasbourg-Metz-Kehl-Luxembourg late Saturday night. Today we assessed the strike situation, and decided to head down to Nice and Monaco. We're hoping to catch some nice weather, and incidentally we'll be there for Mardi Gras. However, I did post some photos on Facebook that you can access without a Facebook account.

Making the most of the strike, Part III

2009-02-16T00:51:00.003+01:00

We are living up the grève, and therefore find ourselves between vacations. So, if I haven't gotten back to an email or Facebook message, I'll get to it... next Monday. Then I'll owe you a massive post complete with photos.

Wednesday four of us took a daytrip to the not-so-happening town of Montbrison. We were bored after three hours, but it was nice weather, and we could appreciate the calm respite from St-Étienne.

Thursday, in a planned and scheduled effort towards spontaneity, David, Amanda and myself headed to the train station in the morning to choose a random location and take an overnight trip. We went to Lyon for a greater choice, and ended up heading north to the province of Burgundy (wine country) to Dijon. Known for its mustard, we also enjoyed it's tourist-friendly demeanor. There was a good walking tour, and lots of free museums. Despite a complete lack of planning, we found central, economical lodging and generally had a good time. I bought a sampler of six mustards as a souvenir - there's even pink cassis mustard.

And I'm off to grab some zzz's before the train to Strasbourg in a couple hours.

Making the most of the strike, Part II

2009-02-09T21:54:00.008+01:00

The profs, students, or both have been striking fairly consistently for two weeks now. We're taking advantage of this lovely situation by:

1) Enjoying the visual art inspired by aforementioned strike.

"After bread, education is the first need of a people."

"Education is to the soul what sculpture is to a block of marble."

"Have confidence, believe in me, shut up, and behave." (complete with Sarkozy )

2) Cooking elaborate meals. Quinoa salad anyone?

3) Giving blood. One day while bemoaning our boredom, we saw a poster by the elevator about a blood drive sponsored by the local chef association. I took some iron supplements, ate a big meal, and headed to city hall, thinking happy thoughts about how my big sister would be proud.

We arrived, and waited in various lines. The city hall lobby had been transformed into a waiting room, and volunteers were handing out juice and cookies. We met some people we knew, and the doctors were impressed by the foreign kids who came to donate.

After getting my blood tested, we went upstairs to a ballroom, complete with renaissance paintings and chandeliers, that was set up. After an efficient and uneventful donation, I got a free meal. Not bad for a first time experience.

Today I got a letter in the mail saying they couldn't use my blood due to low iron. I thought that's what the said blood test was for...

4) Going on walks in the countryside to take advantage of the long days. I was half-way to Rochetaillée, and saw a great sunset.

5) Buying a backpack for the summer. I'll start using it on vacations now, to get used to really packing lightly.

6) Enjoying blinding sunlight and balmy weather.

7) Planning a weekend in March to visit my cousin in Geneva.

8) Planning another weekend in March to go to the jazz fest in Grenoble.

9) Planning next week's vacation to Strasbourg and Metz. We now have a total of 7 people going - three Canadians, one Irish, and three Australians.

10) Planning a day trip to Montbrison on Wednesday.

11) Translating a Latin history of Rome to French. This prof still expects homeworks assignments by email, even if he is striking.

12) Reading Les Misérables on-line.

Making the most of the strike, Part I

2009-02-08T16:43:00.006+01:00

Friday we decided we'd spent too much quality strike time being lazy in our appartments, so David, Clancy, Emma and I headed out to Vienne. We had low expectations, and we were determined to have a better time than all our friends who were sleeping, you-tubing and complaining about boredom. It was pouring, and we figured it would just be another town with cathedrals.

We transferred in Lyon, where this olde-style train pulled up. There was even a conductor waving his cap out the window. The train itself was graffiti-ed, and had a school bus feel. To top it off, there was this random rude guy who plunked beside Clancy and refused to budge when she said she was saving a seat for her friend, despite the large number of empty seats around him.

Then we arrived at the flooded gravel platform of Vienne. Here David, Emma and Clancy are delighted? concerned? sketched out? by the train.

Typically, I'm the one with the umbrella, extra Kleenex, camera batteries and water bottle. This time I had forgotten the umbrella and the batteries.

We had some lunch, and found the tourist office. This is where it got exciting. Vienne has loads of history, and is set up to be very tourist-friendly. There are little studs in the sidewalks to direct people on a walking tour that covers all the major historic sites. So we set off.

Our first stop was the Saint-Pierre Archaeological Museum. Built in the 5th and 6th centuries, it's one of the oldest churches in France. And now it's a museum, just chock full of lovely ancient stuff. Because of the vast quantity of ancient stuff in Europe, there tends to be less information on what is displayed. So we were kind of guessing from time to time.

Here are Juno and I. He's pretty big; too bad you can't see his massive dismembered arm which was beside me.

And I interpret the piece below as a 3-foot wide chunk of crown molding.

Some original and replica Latin inscriptions...

At this point, I was out of camera batteries. We also saw one of the largest cathedrals in the Rhone-Alpes regions, but we walked in on a funeral by mistake (not the first time). Then we got to this ancient temple. Apparently there are two Roman temples left in France, and this was one of them.

I took this image of the Temple of Augustus and Livia online. It was built in two stages - 20-10 BC and 40 AD. We thought it was pretty impressive that the viennois people had seen the historical value of this and kept it; moments later, we read that the temple only survived because the Roman Catholic Church needed a place of worship in the town, and couldn't afford to build a new church. Only in the 1800s did they begin to see the historical significance.

Then we headed up to this awesome Roman theatre, and climbed it in the rain. A jazz festival is held here every summer. There were also ruins of a garden, a cloister, and another museum.

After the four-hour walking tour, we were drenched, so we had some hot chocolate and went home. Despite the less-than-optimal touring conditions, I'd love to go back to Vienne. I can just tell that it would be beautiful during the summer. It's the kind of city that has it all - a waterfront, museums, art, ancient stuff, restaurants and green space.

12 days and 13 bottles of wine later...

2009-02-02T20:55:00.005+01:00

During the inter-semester vacation, my mom and brother Marcel visited me here in St-É. We had a wonderfully relaxed time being tourist-y and enjoying la belle vie française. Here's a smattering of photos.

Marcel was amused by the ratio of stoop and scoop instructions to the evidence that they went unheeded.

Dinner chez moi - we did this nearly every evening.

Lugdunum ruins in Lyon

European rental car love

Out for dinner
Marcel developed a love for chèvre cheese. Now I have two packages in the fridge, and no idea what to do with them.
Oh fabric stores... one of the things I didn't know St-É had till Mom explored.

Vive la grève!

2009-02-02T20:22:00.004+01:00

Remember the photo I posted back in September? The one of the sign that I humorously discovered on my first day in France?

Well, the grève has come live to St-Étienne. Starting last week, I arrived in class to find that Mme. Coin was striking. “Perfect,” thought I. “I can go eat pain au chocolat with Marcel.”

The next day, I went to class, and M. Lévy told me that he couldn’t afford to strike (and go unpaid) non-stop, so he was holding class that particular day. That particular day, the other students in my class were striking, so I was the only student present. I offered to go strike too, so that he could have a day off.

M. Lévy was offended. Oops.

As he explained, a student strike is a powerful statement, because the students feel strongly enough about the issue at stake to refuse the government’s service – education.

So not just a holiday. M. Lévy proceeded to give a two-hour lecture on Greek rhetoric to me, referring to Sarkozy’s most recent speech.

On Thursday, everyone was on strike.

Today I went to class, and met two colleagues, Adeline and Gwendoline. Again no class, but we had the opportunity to speak with three classics profs. I didn’t comprehend the whole system, but I gathered a general dislike of Sarkozy’s economic reforms. Mme. Garambois suggested I learn striking from the French, and bring home the skill to Canada. After much drama, we three students went for lunch.

Now, you’d think that since there’s a strike, I could pick up and visit my cousin in Geneva. Unfortunately, striking profs have been emailing homework to us, and non-striking profs are holding class.

Good news is that we are already planning a trip for our February vacation two weeks from now. Amanda, myself, and a variety of other foreign kids will be visiting Strasbourg (seat of European government) and Metz (random cute town with cheap hostels). They’re in the north-east corner of France, near Germany.

Identity: A Delayed Post

2009-01-19T23:36:00.004+01:00

Recently, I spent two weeks in the Netherlands for Kerstdag and Oud en Nieuw. Why the Netherlands? You see, I’m Canadian by birth, but Dutch by heritage. All four of my grandparents were born in the Netherlands. So even in Canada we drink coffee around Oma’s kitchen table (eating gebakkjes with miniature forks of course), give presents at the beginning of December, shake hands with close family, and have lots of blonde-haired, blue-eyed cousins.

But this is the dark secret: I don’t speak Dutch. I really can get around France better than Holland. We Canadians get our French exposure. Even if your bilingualism is limited to a vague acknowledgement of the other side of the cereal box, you will feel a slight sense of familiarity arriving in Charles de Gaulle airport. Signs like “Sortie,” “SVP” and “Bienvenue” don’t feel foreign. But “uitgang,” “let op,” and “AUB” are less innate to the average Canadian abroad.

When I left St-Étienne on December 22, I was prepared to feel like a foreigner in the country where my grandparents were born. I’d be the first to admit that I’m not Dutch – except for cultural leftovers in my family, I am pretty Canadian – peppering sentences with “eh,” drinking coffee while walking across campus, wearing jeans everywhere, and talking about the weather as fervently as if it were a political scandal.

I should feel at home in France, specifically St-Étienne. I’m more bilingual than the average Ontarian. I legally reside in France – I have a Carte 12-25 for train discounts, I receive hydro bills, and I collect points at the supermarket. I've befriended the librarians, I’ve hosted dinner parties and I’ve complained about the weather.

Yet when my Opa’s sister, Anne and Robin, picked us up at Schiphol, I was immediately comfortable. My Dutch family, like most Dutch people, speaks excellent English, so there was no language barrier. We went to the house of my great-aunt, Liesbeth and Jan, where we would stay for the holidays. We were invited in, sat at the kitchen table, drank several cups of strong coffee and ate chocolate-covered cookies on blue and white plates. I could have been at my Oma’s.

These two weeks I felt very at home, but at the same time I’ve noticed that I’ve picked up French habits. When we were called to dinner at half-six, I wondered why we were eating so early. Shouldn’t we wait till eight, since we just had coffee at four? At dinner, I conversed while eating, but found myself with a still-full plate of food when Tante Lies was offering seconds. Oh, right, this is how Verheys eat, I remembered. In France, I had finally learned how to make a four-course meal last five hours, and here I was, relearning the quick-eating ways of Halson Street.

Evidently, part of the feeling at home was that it was my family. But even Amanda, the brave girl who spent the holidays with someone else’s family, felt the comfort of ritualistic coffee and hearty meals.

Somehow, seeing freshly painted doors, tall women wearing size 41 shoes, employees washing windows, and dads reading newspapers in living rooms resonates with me more than the Dijon mustard, closed shutters, grimy streets, and all the baguette, wine and cheese of France. This all sounds very negative. I do love France. It's just that here I'm an impostor, pretending to be French. In the Netherlands, (and I risk sounding very trite here) I guess I could say I feel my roots.

Dutch Vacation, Photo Version

2009-01-06T17:09:00.005+01:00

My Tante Lies, and Oom Jan, with whom we stayed.
Dutch houses may not have central heating, but heated floors totally make up for it!

Amanda's friend lives on a dairy farm where they produce artisan cheese (boerenkaas). We toured and tasted.
Amanda's friends took us out for dinner. They were in Canada last year, while studying agriculture.
Oom Jan informed me that I had to at least try a raw oyster while in Holland.
Christmas afternoon, Oom Jan took us on a bike ride, and gave us a tour of old Den Haag. It felt weirdly snow-free for Christmas.
The next morning, having enjoyed it so much, we went again. This time it was early and bitterly cold, but it was beautiful to see the dunes and beach in the morning light, with few others out.

That night, my cousin Mark and his wife Mariette (above and below) took us out for dinner.

Warm stroopwafels... (part of my goals in the previous post)
Indonesian food with Oom Jan
I visited Thea, my exchange student in high school. We went skating on (nearly!) frozen ditches.
Then we went to Hasselt for a low-key festival, and we ran into Bertine, who came to Canada at the same time as Thea.
Oud en Nieuw! This photo doesn't do justice to the amount of fireworks. Den Haag-ers were all over the pyro fun at midnight, as it's the only day to legally light fireworks in NL. The streets were still covered with debris several days later.
We visited an island farm of an acquaintance. This meant that the red boat was to be our transportation, despite the ice, and lack of paddles.
Tante Lies and Amanda huddled to stay warm, while seven-year-old Menno valiantly tried to use the ice pick. The farmer's wife ended up coming over in a motor boat.
We visited Amsterdam for a day and saw markets, old-style architecture, and... a shoe store!
Tante Lies ordered us apple tart, and we got massive slices of homemade cake with whipped cream.
When I got home Monday night, I was greeted with a heap of Christmas cards and letters. It was awesome!

So that was our holidays - mostly in Den Haag, staying with my oude-tante. The week of Christmas, she and my uncle hosted dinner parties nearly every night, so we met their friends, learned how to tell a Bordeaux from a Bourgogne by the bottle shape, and tried raw oysters (they get better after the first try).

We shopped a lot, read novels, slept late, visited some friends in the East, and visited farms. We toured two cheese farms, and developed a taste for boerenkaas. We hung out a lot with my cousin Mark and his wife Mariette - being there during the holidays meant we could get to know people, as everyone was off of work. And I nearly forgot to mention that somewhere in there I studied a little.

Gelukkig Nieuw Jaar! Happy New Year! Bonne année!

Il est né, le divin enfant...

2008-12-21T14:42:00.009+01:00

Christmas has totally hit St-Étienne, complete with its countless events. The city is all lit up, and there are carolers in the streets, but the weather's balmy and the sidewalks are dry.

Last week we got a lot of snow, and it's really beautiful here. It was heavy packing snow and with little wind, it didn't drift, but just rested. The city looked like a Christmas card. Amanda and I made a snowman after our English translation exam. Last Sunday we had a Christmas program at church, where we got our fill of Christmas pudding, clementines and home-made baked goods. And I even mailed out Christmas cards. I've also received a pile :)

Tuesday night, Ray and Ruth Ann (the pastor and his wife) took Amanda, Jessica and myself out for dinner to celebrate Jessica's birthday. They've discovered a wonderful little Chinese restaurant owned and run by a Christian couple from St-Chamond. Amanda tried to teach me how to use chopsticks, but I gave up after the appetizer.

Wednesday evening, Amanda and I hosted a dinner party in her house for all the exchange students (that we know) in our building. Two desks pushed together made a big dinner table, everyone brought desserts, salads and bread and cheese and we made way too much pasta. We had a wonderful time getting to know the Irish and other Canadians better, and we take it as a sign of success that it lasted until one in the morning.

Of course, no dinner party is complete without some damage - while Amanda's bed was being used as a couch, it collapsed completely. This is actually the end of a saga that began early in the semester, thus Amanda's facial expression.

Thursday we got haircuts together. Same story as last time: the coiffeur immensely enjoyed pouffing my thick hair into a large mass of frizziness. I looked like a walking tree.

Thursday evening, we had an international dinner at the foreign language institute. We made poutine, and some other Canadian foods brought were Nanaimo bars and maple syrup pie. An American brought pb&j sandwiches, from which we were all on withdrawal.

Friday night after my Greek exam, we went skating. It felt very Canadian, and we even had a coupon from our TicketsMix, so it was free. We went with Benjamin (from Amanda's math class) and it was his first time.

Last night we had dinner and cake to celebrate Tammy's last weekend in St-Étienne. She was only here for one semester, and is headed back to Windsor.

But don't get the idea that we don't study anymore! I've written six exams and done one of my oral exams. I have five more exams when I get back in January, but for now we're packing to fly to Amsterdam tomorrow. Our plans include visiting my exchange student from high school, museuming, visiting a Canadian friend who just got married and is now living there, shopping for size 42 shoes, and eating pannenkoek, oliebollen, broodjekaas,* koffee, gebaak,* and stroopwafels.*

Wishing you all a joyeux Noel!

*Spelling may be wrong.

Festival of Lights, Food Poisoning, and Biennial of Design

2008-12-07T21:26:00.003+01:00

So following my blogging sabbatical, here's what happened in St-É in the past two weeks. Last weekend, I took myself on a self-date Friday afternoon to an event in the city - the Biennale du Design. An old factory was used to display new French inventions and art - everything from new sailing technologies to furniture made of rubiks cubes. Above is a wall hanging made of religious tokens. Outside there was a random structure. I climbed it, and then Nicolette called me and wondered why I sounded like I had run to the phone.This past Friday, the international centre organized a bus trip to Lyon for the Festival of Lights. Amanda and I went, and enjoyed walking along the lit-up river (St-Étienne has no water). All the major squares had special displays and there were films projected onto buildings.

Then we decided to go for dinner. We found a place with an affordable "formule" and went in. It seemed like a nice place, and the service was excellent. We enjoyed the food. We left. We noticed that the waiter did not charge us for the wine. Hmmm...

Fast-forward a couple hours to Saturday morning 6:36 am - we were both sick. I haven't been out of commission to such an extent since late childhood. I would have called it the flu, except that we were both sick at the same time. So I'm saying it's food poisoning, and we both pinpointed this dish as the culprit:
I actually could not identify any of the items on the plate while eating, except the mushrooms and herbs. It looked like a lobster, but was really small. When we got thinking, we thought maybe we got free wine because the waiter had seen an incident in the kitchen and knew we'd be spewing shortly thereafter.

Today in my state of semi-renewed health, I did all my laundry. Feeling frivolous, I even decided to pay a euro to use the dryer, and thereby not have to drape my entire room in wet laundry. When the cycle finished, the laundry was still wet. Ok, so I had completely tried to get my money's worth and had it packed full. Threw in another euro (ok, so actually Amanda ran knocking on people's door for change, while I tried to forget about nausea and sketchy restaurants), and after the second cycle, the laundry was...

wet. not even warmed.

Evidently the dryer was not working. So I used the dryer on fourth floor instead, and 7 euros 20 cents later, I have clean dry clothes.

Good news is this evening I've been feeling better, and this week I'm hoping to energetically get through five final exams.

November Update

2008-11-23T18:16:00.003+01:00

I had a good week. Yesterday for the first time, we saw flurries. To be accurate, I was buried in some book or other, and Amanda came catapulting into my room and opened the windows and we tried to take photos. It melted on the ground, but it was cold enough to wear mittens and boots grocery shopping. Speaking of which, we arrived home and unpacked, noticing Amanda's apartment was warmer than usual. I went back to my room, and shortly thereafter heard a cry for help from 321. I went over and saw this:

She had apparently left the element on. I certainly hope plastic-infused chips are not dangerous for consumption, because after we cleaned the plastic off the burner, we rescued them in a Tupperware.

Today, we had an intense church day. Lots of visitors, and one of the pastors was saying good-byes before heading to the States for a year. We practised carols in four-part harmony for the Christmas program. I don't read music, I don't comprehend beat, but I did manage to memorize the alto line.

Ray and Ruth Ann had us for lunch, and I sat near Carol, who's visiting from Texas. I had a wonderful time visiting with her, as she also got a "useless" degree in ancient Greek and history, did her Master's in theology, and since then has had a variety of exciting non-profit jobs that require she travel all over the place. She was here to visit her Texan-now-Bordeaux sister and trilingual nieces and nephew, and is learning modern Hebrew on the side of being a CEO of a Texan enterprise. It was a very vivid and encouraging dinner conversation for me.

On the other side of the table was a young family of American origin. Eric, from Michigan, and his wife Emily, from Iowa, have three little children, and just moved in town. Eric plays basketball on a contractual basis, and they move just about every season to a new city in France. They are pros at integration, finding new schools, churches and friends every September. Amanda and I, being on child withdrawal (or is it adult overdose?) offered our babysitting skills to Emily, whose visage evidenced an utter and complete joy unique to busy young moms. We're super excited, as they're only a 35 minute walk away.

So that's the news here in St-É. Thanks for all the comments last week - sometimes it's good to hear about regular happenings back in Canada, because life in France feels regular and non-adventurous to us now. Oh, and I promised an update on my non-complaining strategy. It was really hard, but not in an "Oh I really want to self-pity right now but can't" way; rather I discovered how much I complain in daily conversation, without realizing it. Truly, I might lose 50% of my conversation material if I succeed! Pretty bad, upon reflection, but this week was at least good for, well... reflection.

That November Feeling...

2008-11-16T18:15:00.004+01:00

This week was, in a word, average. The weather is getting cold here. There's a perpetual dampness that makes the cold bitter. My heater's not quite functioning, so I'll have to talk to my landlady. As far as school, I'm bracing for finals. I just discovered that I have written exams in December, and oral exams after Christmas. Rather ironic, but for my Latin literature class, I'll be tested orally on a dead language. Said exam is taking place the same day I return from NL after Christmas, and tickets are already purchased.

Last night there was a Thanksgiving dinner at church. There's a sizeable (is that a word?) American population, so the church celebrates it. It felt weird having it a month later than usual. Ruth Ann went all out with planning and Thanksgiving decor, as you can see in the photo.

This week, though, I have a project. It's that un-fun time of year, waiting for Christmas and trying to pull through the most challenging part of the semester, so I'm going to go seven days without complaining. I read about this somewhere, and I thought I'd give it a try. I'll let you know how it goes.

Anyways, enough about me. Can I challenge you (yes, every one of you who is reading this) to leave a comment telling me one thing you did this week?

Good Things Happen When Your Dad Sends You Your Textbooks

2008-11-12T20:47:00.004+01:00

Somewhere between these two assignments, I received my English copy of Wheelock's Latin in the mail, with sensational results.

Before: 7.5 out of 20, with the remark in red - "Ne vous découragez pas." (Don't get discouraged.)

After: 16.75 out of 20, with "C'est très encourageant. Des efforts ont été faits. Continuez." (It's very encouraging. Efforts were made. Continue.)

10 Ways France surprised this Canadienne Exchange Student

2008-11-08T11:35:00.004+01:00

Hand washing is not correlated with washrooms.
Expensive celery.
The business of cerebral expansion is painful here too.
Wine, cheese and baguette are the French KD.
Bad baguette exists.
Absence of "Stoop and Scoop."
The French are friendly.
They drink beer.
Unfashionable people.
Hole-in-the-wall restaurants = awesome

(This post took up the 50-word challenge over at 22 Words.)

Week in Aix-en-Provence

2008-11-01T21:24:00.007+01:00

When we arrived in Aix (pronounced 'ex') this was our first sight as we walked to the centre. We were surprised by the warm summer weather, but it makes sense as we were near the Mediterranean. Aix is known for its 22 fountains throughout the city of 160 000, as well as being the home of Cézanne and Zola.
This was the entrance to our hotel. I thought it looked like a travel brochure.

While Amanda and Jessica napped, I sat on the balcony with Madame Bovary.

Sunday afternoon, we had a picnic on the terrace.
In the morning we had tried to go to the ERF in Aix, but they were worshiping somewhere else, so we went to the Cathédrale St-Jean-de-Malte instead. Of course, we forgot it was time change and were an hour early. This picture was taken the day before, when there was a wedding happening.
Monday was beautiful weather again, so we visited the Place Vendome, where the duke of Vendome used to reside in the 1600s. They had a great garden, but we were reprimanded for sitting on the grass.
I just had to photograph the old man sitting on the periphery of the garden.
The house is now an art gallery, so we toured it. It's smaller than it looks.
We went out for a fancy dinner, and walked the city to find the perfect hole-in-the-wall Provençale restaurant. This was it. Aix is the city that represents the cultural region of Provence, known for food.
Despite the smiles here, this was after a day of walking in the rain, and we were recovering at a café with croque monsieur, lasagna, and moussaka.

Our last day, we got some homework done in a café. At this point, I was getting sick. Somehow I made it home Thursday. I'm feeling better after some sleep, and lots of tea, food, and love from Amanda.

October Highlights II

2008-10-23T22:52:00.003+02:00

Here's a quick photographic update of stéphanois fun. It's actually in complete reverse order - me opening the care package from Halson Street (Greek textbook and winter coat, oh yeah!). Last weekend, we went out for a fancy dinner (merci Dad!) and dressed up. Sunday, a family from church invited us for lunch. I relished the van-ride-home-from-church with Norbert and Annie and their five children. After lunch, they took us with them on a Sunday walk at the Chestnut Fest in a nearby town. It turns out that French adolescents also vehemently oppose Sunday walks. Marie, 14: "You're dictators! It's like a Communist regime!" Parents: "Finish your cheese and bread, and get dressed!" At the festival, Amanda and I got free chestnuts since we're Canadian.

Thanksgiving

2008-10-13T00:03:00.003+02:00

This week didn’t provide much bloggable material – I’ll blame it on school and rainy weather. Today, though, is Thanksgiving. It’s not a European holiday owing to a lack of Pilgrims, but this year we’ll be celebrating twice anyway – today with Canadians, and again in November, as our church has a lot of Americans. Our church is gone camping this weekend, so Amanda and I headed to the Reformed church this morning, where we met several people, and were invited to a potluck Bible study next week.

When we got home, it was beautiful weather, so we knocked on Jessica’s door, packed a picnic, and hiked up to a hill I had discovered several weeks ago. It was a bit of a climb, but Jessica and Amanda forgave me once we arrived. Overlooking the whole city, we took advantage of the photo ops, had a picnic and then read and napped in the sun for the afternoon. It was absolutely magnificent to have an unexpected day of summer in October.

After some emails and phone calls home, Amanda came for tea and we made a Thanksgiving paper chain. Kinda cheesy, but I figure there’s no reason to cut out arts and crafts just because I’m not living with Jesse and Johanna right now. As you can see, the chain got pretty long, which can only mean a full, full life.

October Highlights I

2008-10-05T20:36:00.003+02:00

We’ve had an atypical week, full of school and dotted about with interesting people and events. Monday I used up all my produce in a spectacular risotto, anticipating a big grocery adventure at the Saturday market. While walking home from school Tuesday, I ran into Brooke, a girl from my church, and had her over for... water, (due to said bottoming of pantry) but we nevertheless had a lovely visit, and she invited Amanda and me for tea with her host family this coming week. Wednesday morning I met with four Italian exchange students from my German class to show them where the bookstore is. Gaetana, Serrena, Alessandra and Mikaela are all from Salerno, about a one-hour drive from Rome. They’re fun to be with, and hanging out with them forces all of us to practice our French non-stop.

Right in the middle of the week, there was an acute lowlight. Wednesday afternoon, I headed to Latin translation class, set my cell phone to “silencieux” and pulled out my sketchy translation of The Death of Hannibal. My Latin professor is a young 20-something, and he’s teaching at university for the first time, having previously taught high school. This means that he’s retained that high-school-teacher quality of suspecting students and presenting himself in a no-nonsense way. He’s not particularly welcoming to foreign students. About one hour into the class, my cell phone rings. Now I know I’m pretty low-tech, but it verified that it was silenced, and I got Amanda to check my method just in case. So M. Dufetre glares at me while I tremblingly silence my phone. Hannibal continues dying, and not two minutes later, the cell phone rings again. At this point I’m seriously considering throwing it into the garden. I keep the phone in my hand, ready to turn it off should it ring again. It does.

Wednesday recovered itself in less than three hours. Amanda and I decided to go check out a classical string concert at a local church, and see if it was affordable. Staying true to our heritage, we negotiated a rate equivalent to half the student rate, and enjoyed ourselves immensely. The young group of eight musicians, The Berlin Masters, played a variety of familiar pieces that made me wish I had some musical skill. On the way home, we contributed to the municipal maintenance by removing some posters to hang in our room.

Thursday afternoon, Amanda and I have our English/French translation class, which is rather fun. Our prof is delighted to have authentic Anglophones in the class. While we translated an article on Obama/McCain campaigns, he asked us some questions about Canadian government. Then he asked me to come up to the front, and I had the joy of interpreting Canadian parliament to the class. I think he was a little befuddled as to how I developed such a fluid speech in a seemingly impromptu manner. He then asked us if we had a national anthem. “God Save the Queen?” he asked. “No, O Canada.” “Can you sing it for us?” “Ummm, if Amanda helps?” So we sang our national anthem en anglais to the class.

Friday night, my marraine (“god-mother” – a French student is assigned to look out for me this year by a local association) picked us up for a welcome soiree for us foreigners. We enjoyed a buffet, full of local specialties, as well as peanut butter Wonder bread squares for those of us who miss Canada.

Saturday morning, despite my meager four hours of sleep, we headed to the market and stocked up on fresh fruits and vegetables, which we discovered are significantly cheaper and fresher than the other vendors we’d tried. In the evening, our friend Nathanael invited us to join him at a friend’s housewarming party, where we had our first authentically French soiree. We succeeded decently in conversing not-super-awkwardly for three hours above the noise, and tasted a quiche Lorraine that made us wish we had an oven.

Today Amanda, Jessica and I headed to church, early today because there’s a breakfast on the first of the month. Ray and Ruth Ann kindly had us for lunch again, along with Brooke, and Linda, a German exchange student. Ray claims we just had to test the lasagna for the upcoming retreat, and Ruth Ann insists that with their four own children spread across America and Europe, she needs to take in more. We really enjoy their company.

Via Ferrata

2008-09-28T17:53:00.003+02:00

Saturday morning, Amanda and I met a new French friend for café au lait and French conversation practice. We discovered a wonderful new square (Place Jean-Jaurès) and Nathanael told us about his adventures in Canmore (AB) where he got into mountain-climbing. He and his friends were going to via ferrata (verb) in the afternoon, and we eagerly took his invitation. Via ferrata is a type of mountain climbing, in that there are high mountains, safety harnesses, and cables. It is unlike escalade, in that two unfit, unexperienced girls can feel authentic and survive without undue exhaustion. We were climbing for about two hours, and some highlights include crossing a deep ravine by walking a narrow plank (attached to the cable of course) and just generally clinging to edge of a mountain, feeling the warmth of a day's sun. I'm trying to post a video of me walking across a cable. Disclaimer: I thought Adrien was taking photos, so I'm creepily smiling at the camera the whole time. I guess that's what I get for maximizing photo ops.

They shall mount up with wings as eagles...

2008-09-26T21:07:00.004+02:00

I feel I’ve reached the point in my blog that I need to, as some hi-skool klassm8z wrote in my yearbook, “keep it real.” What do I mean? That up until now, I’ve used the forced cheerfulness of a tourism brochure, and since my tour guide days are behind me, I really ought to tap into a truer voice.

Today, being Friday, I didn’t have any class. I did a small amount of translation, and then reached for Madame Bovary before stepping out to a small café 10 minutes away. Amanda and I shared a millefeuille, and I indulged in a petit tasse de café, or in Canadian-speak, a thimble of espresso. I read an entire thirty pages of my French novel, but there are eleven more books waiting on the shelf. Feeling quite extravagant in living the French stereotype, I returned to slog through some Greek translation. But it was Friday night. Now I’m not against a studious Friday night – my family could tell you that. But this evening I was restless, so I set out with my ipod and started walking.

Stepping out of the building, I can go left (down-hill) or right (up-hill). St-Étienne is a valley in the alps, and every street, except the main street, is either ascending or descending. Indecisive, I cross the road. Three Peugeots wait at the light, and I discern the cause of this restlessness. After three weeks in the valley, I’m yearning to go up. In any way, I don’t care what it looks like, if my feet hurt, if I get hungry.

I turn right.

Uphill, ascending. The way to the top is unclear amid the labyrinth of apartment buildings, but there is a sign pointing to the Cotonne residence, which I know is higher than mine. And in the streets constricted by concrete and masonry and scaffolding, there’s often only one means of knowing where I’m going – by the choices I’ve made.

At the Rue Faubourg, I don’t turn upward. I cross the road and choose a steeper, grassy incline to a park. But soon I’ve reached the top, and I realize it wasn’t really the hill I was looking for. I’m still in the valley, just feet above the rooftops. I glimpse a fraction of the glorious view I’ll find on top, really on top.

And I descend.

Sometimes it’s hard to know which way to go. Should I always just take the harder way, and hope I don’t mount a false hill again? Should I read more maps? But I’m already walking, I can’t. Perhaps if I encounter someone else on this journey I’ll ask him. I doubt I will. Most content themselves with the valley.

I reach the street on the other side of the park – only a slight incline. Here there is graffiti, auto repair shops, a tired mother pushing her three-year-old son in a decrepit stroller. A train, the train by which I arrived 26 days ago, thunders across a bridge overhead. I arrive at an intersection, and again I turn right, uphill. It’s steep. The road is narrow, and unsightly. If I don’t believe this climb will bring me to a greater beauty, I might as well turn around. There is no splendor here. On both sides, I am surrounded by bland apartment buildings that shield even the sun.

I trudge onward, watching one foot pass the other. Avoiding the banana peel, the cheese string wrapper. Several moments pass, and I’m suddenly bathed in piercing, dinner-time sunlight. Looking up, my eyes adjust, and I see a lookout point over the city. There’s a small park and a family picnicking. The buildings aren’t as tall here – maybe three storeys. I slow down, just enjoying the magnificence of the vista between the buildings.

Then I see to the left, the road continues higher. And I know I can’t stay here. Some are satisfied settling with their picnic halfway up, but I’m not at ease. This is an unripe joy, a joy that will seem childish when I attain the highest peak, free from the entanglements of human structures.

The road gets steeper, and at every intersection, I choose the way upward. Soon I’m coming to what looks like another false hilltop. The road ends at a soccer field. Circling around, I find a worn, dirt trail. I’m mounting further, but on both sides there are high bushes.

My heart is beating. My shoes are pinching. All I see is high banks of brush, and sky above. I’m thirsty, and this country has yet to discover Nalgene bottles. Yet mere minutes more of perseverance sweeps me from the tedium of climbing to a glorious panorama of St-Étienne, and probably Rochetaillée too.

Often in French, I can’t express what I really want to say, because I just don’t have enough nouns. This brilliance, grandeur, magnificence – I find I’m running out of English nouns too.

Puy-en-Vélay I

2008-09-23T22:12:00.008+02:00

After one week of French administration and another week of getting used to French school, Saturday renewed my love for this country. I began with a good dose of Greek translation.

The Journées de Patrimoine (Heritage Days) is an annual event across France, which combines an open-doors opportunity to visit spaces normally closed to the public and free admission to all museums and heritage sites. With a group of international students, we took a coach bus to Puy-de-Vélay, a historic town 60 kilometres away. The bus ride was actually a great way to see the part of France that doesn't have light-rail transit - the mountainous area is stunning, and helps to contextualize French literature. One of the Irish students was ill, so we stopped in a little hamlet. While everyone stood outside the bus shivering, Amanda and I seized the photo ops - we sighted our first French man in a beret. I (so I thought) subtly took a photo of him from across the street, and then he cycled over and offered to have his photo taken with me.

We arrived at Puy-en-Vélay in the late afternoon, and spent our time discovering a quaint medieval city that was celebrating its history with their annual festival. We climbed the Rocher St-Michel d'Aiguilhe, which offers a great view of the valley. The chapel itself is quite rustic, compared to all the cathedrals we've toured in large city centres.

Puy-en-Vélay II

2008-09-22T22:50:00.002+02:00

Later, while wandering the city, we stopped at a fromagerie. There was a bin of cheese (not refrigerated, just like milk and eggs here) and they were covered in a sandy substance. As we tried to ascertain its edibility, the fromagier came over and explained that he makes the crust himself. Amanda could give you a biologically correct explanation, but he uses small organisms (betes) to create the crust - the sand was actually little betes, and when he heaped it up, we saw the piles moving ever so slightly. He cut us a piece and let us taste it - it was a good, strong cheese, and the betes just tasted sandy. Now Amanda's smiling in the photo, because she's used to me and my camera, but a more accurate representation would be a look of fear.

We had a medieval dinner of potato, sausage, broth, and apple flan, which was more like Dutch comfort food to us, and then watched spectacles - flame-throwers, sword duels and the like, until we came back to St-Étienne.

First Day of School

2008-09-16T17:40:00.003+02:00

When I first met with the international advisor at McMaster last October and told her I wanted to study Greek and Latin in France, she encouraged me to study for a fifth year at Mac, and provided an ample supply of dire predictions if I tried doing the ancient languages here. Fast forward to September 16, and I see what she meant.

There are three major challenges here. In the UK and North America, the noun declensions are memorized in order of: Nominative, Genitive, Dative, Accusative. And no one cares about Vocative. In Continental Europe, they are in this order: Nominative, Vocative (but only sometimes!), Accusative, Genitive, Dative. Suddenly, for all my chanting ος, ου, ω, ον, my French classmates are reciting ος, ον, ου, ω. Not a big deal, you think? Well, this is only one example among three declensions, three genders, and all the participles. So there's no easy cure here, except to block out what the others are saying. Now the Greek class here consists of seven students, so we have to participate. One classmate was weak on one of the verb conjugations, so the prof asked her to recite them. (Standard.) Then the prof said, "et à l'envers," and the student recited them backwards. (Hope this doesn't happen to me.)

The second challenge is the French accent in Greek. They don't have certain sounds ('h' 'th') in French, so they pretend they don't exist in Greek either. After three hours of Greek class today, I'm picking it up, but yesterday they laughed openly when I read aloud. (It was humourous).

The third challenge evidenced itself this morning in Greek translation. Madame Coin, looking over her glasses, is rather imposing already, and we were translating on the spot. When it came to my turn, I knew some of the words, so off I started. Then I realized that while I consider myself somewhat bilingual, my French vocabulary does not include words like worship, goddess, or warrior. I got through it, and explained my situation. Turns out Madame Coin is kinder than she appears, and she lent me two grammar books, and told me I could hand in the first translation assignment in English.

So I'm two days in, and right in the thick of translation (the first photo - whole column has to be finished Monday in French) and reading (one French play and one French novel for next week). Good news is that today I went to the book stores and found a three-way French, Greek, and Latin dictionary. My elective this year is German, and it looks like it'll be a good course. I love beginner language courses, because they're so let's-discuss-hobbies-and-get-to-know-each-other. I was also really wanting to take Italian, so I may do that instead of German.

Overall, school is looking like a positive experience, especially since the class sizes are small - turns out, not many French students like dead languages either!

Church in France

2008-09-14T16:47:00.010+02:00

Part I (Colour Photos): September 7, a small church plant in Ray and RuthAnn's basement, several transfers away from our apartment, and comparable to Bible churches in the States. Ray (one of three pastors) and his wife kindly invited us for lunch. The group of thirty is highly anglophone. There was a message informing us of our duty to show adoration in worship.

Part II (Sepia photos): September 14, a great old-with-an-e-style church building within walking distance (bonus), complete with sweet long-handled collection bags and an organ that would make Ted jealous. French Reformed group (the Église Réformée de France - ERF) is larger, possibly due to baptism. No one said hi, despite attempts at eye contact. There was a message on the necessity of water in an earthly and spiritual sense.

So this is our group of perceptions, from which we must decide. We're pretty sure this is it for non-Catholic options in St-Étienne. Our current plan is to church hop between the two.

Haircut!

2008-09-13T14:50:00.003+02:00

Before: "I'm half-awake, Amanda, put the camera away!"

After: Not so sure about the half-curly, half-straightened thing the stylist did, but I'm liking it!

An Evolving Raison d'Etre

2008-09-12T23:35:00.005+02:00

So now that I've been playing around with this blog for a while, I feel I should publicize it. But I advertise with a disclaimer. I first thought of this as a way to share photos, since Facebook was not so receptive of my high-resolution photos. As I realized I had to explain the photos, it slowly evolved to a digital scrapbook. As I get into school (and stop taking photos of everything) this may change again. In fact, this blog might be completely abandoned once I get my reading list. But for now, it looks like I'll be posting at a minimum rate of once a week. Please write comments, if only to reassure me of an audience.

Now, there's a bit of time discrepancy between the last post and this one. That's because I've put Europe on a Shoestring on the bookshelf, turned the maps into wall hangings, and hung up my fanny pack in order to do responsible things, like registering in courses, applying for government housing refunds, and getting a carte de séjour.

Installation

2008-09-02T20:42:00.008+02:00

The French have a great reflexive verb which I find aptly describes the moving-in process - s'installer. We had a grand time installing ourselves à la Résidence Littré, even though it involved serious long-haul grocery shopping.

I'm on the third floor, which is actually the fourth, the way the French count the rez-de-chaussée as Floor 0. My window faces another apartment building, so it's pretty quiet. But because St-Étienne is in a valley, we can always see the hills in the distance.

In the top picture, you'll notice a man working outside. This photo was taken after he spent the morning cutting the strip of weeds with a scythe. He later emerged with a weed-whacker.

Finding St-Étienne

2008-09-01T20:04:00.000+02:00

After spending the first week sightseeing in Paris and having orientation in Lyon, I was excited to move to St-Étienne - mostly to unpack, do laundry, and cook a meal at home. It took a bit to get to that stage. At the Lyon train station, Jessica, Amanda and I bought tickets for the 9:12 train. At 9:10 the train still hadn't shown on the screen. Turns out train times aren't related to the actual time; it's more of a way of naming them. We took the 8:58 train at 10:10.

When we arrived in St-Étienne, we took the tram and got off at the right stop, the proceeded to carry our luggage three blocks in the wrong direction. A kind English woman walked us to the residence. Then we ate. Points to the cheap diner for making great salads!

Lyon Orientation

2008-08-31T22:18:00.000+02:00

We arrived in Lyon. We took the metro to a station several blocks from the hostel (logical). We saw a massive cliff. We turned around and rode the furniculaire up the cliff (more logical). The hostel was friendly, had good wi-fi, and offered a better view than the Hilton. Sometimes cliff-climbing pays off.

We later stayed at an international centre in a quiet suburban area with 10 other exchange students. Our orientation was relaxed; we toured the city, ate out and met a couple French students.

Paris II

2008-08-28T18:17:00.000+02:00

So this is the Cathédrale Notre-Dame; we didn't actually see the full majestic front until after we had attended part of the mass and climbed to the top of the right tower, hence the tour guide pose.

The Vélib system in Paris is great - you pay a fee, take the bicycle from a station, ride it to your destination, and then leave it at another station. There are stations every couple blocks, and everyone from women buying baguettes to business people use them.

Speaking of baguette, our first three meals all involved this economical food group, so we hunted down a produce place. Then the (now) smiling Amanda and I sat in a random courtyard and ate fruit.

This subway station made a photo op, not only because we spent considerable time in the metro, but because this particular one prevents accidents by encasing the subway in glass, and having a glass door and a subway door.

Paris I

2008-08-27T17:31:00.000+02:00

On the left, I've just arrived in Paris, emerging from the Oberkampf metro station.

We were sure we got to our destination when we saw the following sign. (Translation: Long live the strike... The strike is a tool of defense and conquest. It's a right!)

Once we got the luggage to the hostel, we wandered the city. Amanda tried out the French look, and while waiting to climb the Cathédrale Notre-Dame, we watched the guy with the mask freak people out. On top of the cathedral, this grotesque scares evil spirits away.