Hello. Hi. It's me, (Vi)Nora. I am not dead. Au contraire, I am very much alive and too busy LIVING to be bothered with things like blogging. But seriously I apologize to all of you out there who I know live to read my blog. I have been selfish and neglectful.
Let's seeee. Where I left off, we were in the middle of fête-ing and grève-ing. The strikes have died down and are basically finished around here. The fêtes, on the other hand, are not finished. This is Bretagne, after all. Things must be celebrated.
This past Wednesday was my birthday and Tuesday was my host sister's birthday. We are the same age- born exactly 14 hours apart. How weird is that? And our dads were born on the same day too. There is some serious zodiac alignment happening here I think. To celebrate, we had a wonderful family dinner on Tuesday night with fondue and cake and presents and champagne. Not only do Maïwenn and I have the same birthday, we also bought each other the same birthday presents- gloves that we saw one day when we were shopping and both really liked. Later, we both went back to the store (seperately) and bought them for each other. Pretty adorable. My friends gave me little boxes of knick knacks they had assembled for me- things with sentimental value or some kind of use or absolutely no value or use at all. I loved it.
On Wednesday night we had a joint birthday party at the house, because Thursday (November 11th) is a national holiday in France and there is no school. Too bad I don't live in France- I could have a party every year the day of my birthday, regardless of if it's on a weekend or not. Damn.
The party was a whole lot of fun. Overall, it was a very good 48 hours of celebrating our births.
In other news, since my last blog post I feel like I've really turned a corner in terms of adjustment and well, I don't know, being here. I have been saying "I love it here!!" basically since I got here, but I feel like now it is becoming more and more true. It is funny to think that I was proclaiming my love for this place way back then, before I really knew it. And I'm sure in another few months I will love it and feel that I know it just that much more.
But right now it really has become a new home. My friends have really become wonderful, dear friends, not just nice people who let me, the dumb american, tag along with them. I am actually completely in awe of the way that I was taken in by them, and the fact that they immediately liked me before knowing me. Now that my French is better and I'm more adjusted, I can come out of my shell more and we are all just one big happy clan of copines. I adore them all and feel so incredibly lucky and happy to be here with them.
I have figured out how to exist among my host family and the awkwardness of being a stranger in someone else's home has completely slipped away. They are hilarious, humorous and remarkably on the same plane as my family at home.
French flows much more easily out of my mouth and people don't have to repeat themselves quite so much. There is still a long way to go in terms of the language, but that whole problem is becoming more and more obsolete.
I just feel so unbelievably blissfully happy. It's probably really annoying to read all this gushiness (I feel annoyed just writing it), but gosh, what can I say...
France, I- I think... I might... Be in love with you.
(et je ne veux jamais te quitter)
11.14.2010
10.23.2010
Marques de Fabriques
Sorry people. Blogging has fallen by the wayside. WHOOPS!
Life is good here in Bretagne. That is the region of France I am in, for those of you who are not versed in French culture.
My days have been full of autumn sunshine and eating way too much food and of coure, lots of French.
Bretagne (also known as Brittany) is a very distinct region culturally. People who live here are Breton first and French second- they like to say that Bretagne is not France.
My host parents aren't from Bretagne but they've lived here for a long time, so they really understand and love the Bretagne culture, but not in a heritage-y kind of way.
Life is good here in Bretagne. That is the region of France I am in, for those of you who are not versed in French culture.
My days have been full of autumn sunshine and eating way too much food and of coure, lots of French.
Bretagne (also known as Brittany) is a very distinct region culturally. People who live here are Breton first and French second- they like to say that Bretagne is not France.
My host parents aren't from Bretagne but they've lived here for a long time, so they really understand and love the Bretagne culture, but not in a heritage-y kind of way.
One classic regional thing here is FÊTES! Festivals. There is a festival in some neighoring village or another every single weekend. Each fête has a theme that has to do with the Bretagne culture. Or sometimes when they run out of cultural elements to celebrate they have a fête in honor of...well, anything they can think of. For instance, about a month ago my host parents went to a fête in honor of cows. My host mother told me it was boring. I wasn't surprised. My image of a cow fête is a bunch of people standing under tents in a field chewing cud with hunched shoulders and glazed eyes.
Anyways, last weekend we went to a fête in a nearby village called La Fête de Fruits d'Automne. A harvest festival, basically. In the morning we did this thing called a Ballade Chantée where you walk around the countryside in a big group and sing french songs. Apparently that it is a classic Bretagne thing- to sing while walking. In the afternoon we ate traditional food (roasted chestnuts and Galettes and hard apple cider), listened to bands play and danced the traditional Breton dance, which is a goofy, celtic-influenced line dance involving very rhythmic little steps. It's really fun.
This weekend there is a great big fête here in Redon in honor of chestnuts. Chestnuts (especially roasted chestnuts) are a big thing here. People are crazy for them. And I must say, they are really delicious. Roasted chestnuts by a fire on a rainy saturday afternoon... What could be better? They also have this stuff here called Crème de Marrons which is a sort of a chestnut spread that you eat in yogurt or on crêpes and it's AWESOME.
I don't think I'd really ever eaten a chestnut before coming here. I have a newfound respect for them.
Besides alcoholism, rain, and stubbornness, fêtes are a "marque de fabrique" of Bretagne. That is a french expression that I know! My friend Louis taught it to me. It means like a signature thing that a place/people are known for. I know there is an expression like that in English, but I can't remember it.
For example, a marque de fabrique of France would be...
GREVES.
Also known as strikes.
When the French are unhappy they go on strike. And the French are never happy. Therefore, the French are known for striking a whole lot.
You may or may not be aware of this, but things are getting a little tumultuous (<-- is that how you spell that? I have no idea, spell check is in French on this computer...) here in France. The french, in general, are really unhappy with the government. Most of the unhappiness has been targeted at the retirment system, but there are really just a whole lot of problems in France right now and it is all Nicolas Sarkozy and his administration's fault. I know there is a lot more to it than that, but people have been explaining it to me in rapid French, and well... I don't really understand.
On my first day of school here there was a strike, but basically all that meant was that a few of my teachers were missing. A few weeks later, there was another strike and enough of my teachers were missing that I just didn't go to school. Last week there was a strike once again, which meant that I had a wonderful picnic/autumn afternoon in the park with friends.
The interesting thing is that in America, people threaten to go on strike, but hardly ever do, and the simple threat of a strike inspires people to start negotiating. Here people go on strike and they strike and strike and strike and protest for weeks but the government ignores it.
So after more than a month of pretty regular striking and protesting, France is getting fed up. I noticed a definite change last week- there have been protests and strikes and sit-ins everyday. The students joined the protests last Thursday. I went to a sit-in in town with some friends on Thursday afternoon, tons of students just sat down in the middle of one of the biggest intersections in town. It was a lot of fun.
For reasons that I don't really understand, the gas stations are on strike (or maybe it's the refineries that are striking and not the stations themselves) and so are a lot of trains and buses, making transportation very complicated. School has become sort of optional: if you don't want to go to class, you can go join the protests in town because they are literally always going on. Or you can just stay home, because half of the students and teachers aren't at school anyways. This morning students held a Blocus in front of school, meaning they blocked all the entrances to school so no one could go to class and was basically forced to go on strike. After standing around in the cold for an hour (first frost last night! woohoo), my host mom came and picked me and my host sister up. We spent the morning at home and then went back into town later for a student protest. Tomorrow is the last day of school before a ten-day vacation. I think the strikes will calm down during the vacation and pick up again afterwards. We'll see. Right now the government is just sitting on their fat asses (pardon my French), plugging their ears, repeating their mantra that everything is just fine.
Honestly, I am loving experiencing all this striking business. I find it so exciting. But for the sake of the French people, I hope something happens soon.
So there you go. Two marques de fabriques that I've been learning a whole lot about. Pretty fun cultural immersion stuff.
My next blog post will be sooner, I promise.
Until then,
(Vi)Nora
Anyways, last weekend we went to a fête in a nearby village called La Fête de Fruits d'Automne. A harvest festival, basically. In the morning we did this thing called a Ballade Chantée where you walk around the countryside in a big group and sing french songs. Apparently that it is a classic Bretagne thing- to sing while walking. In the afternoon we ate traditional food (roasted chestnuts and Galettes and hard apple cider), listened to bands play and danced the traditional Breton dance, which is a goofy, celtic-influenced line dance involving very rhythmic little steps. It's really fun.
This weekend there is a great big fête here in Redon in honor of chestnuts. Chestnuts (especially roasted chestnuts) are a big thing here. People are crazy for them. And I must say, they are really delicious. Roasted chestnuts by a fire on a rainy saturday afternoon... What could be better? They also have this stuff here called Crème de Marrons which is a sort of a chestnut spread that you eat in yogurt or on crêpes and it's AWESOME.
I don't think I'd really ever eaten a chestnut before coming here. I have a newfound respect for them.
Besides alcoholism, rain, and stubbornness, fêtes are a "marque de fabrique" of Bretagne. That is a french expression that I know! My friend Louis taught it to me. It means like a signature thing that a place/people are known for. I know there is an expression like that in English, but I can't remember it.
For example, a marque de fabrique of France would be...
GREVES.
Also known as strikes.
When the French are unhappy they go on strike. And the French are never happy. Therefore, the French are known for striking a whole lot.
You may or may not be aware of this, but things are getting a little tumultuous (<-- is that how you spell that? I have no idea, spell check is in French on this computer...) here in France. The french, in general, are really unhappy with the government. Most of the unhappiness has been targeted at the retirment system, but there are really just a whole lot of problems in France right now and it is all Nicolas Sarkozy and his administration's fault. I know there is a lot more to it than that, but people have been explaining it to me in rapid French, and well... I don't really understand.
On my first day of school here there was a strike, but basically all that meant was that a few of my teachers were missing. A few weeks later, there was another strike and enough of my teachers were missing that I just didn't go to school. Last week there was a strike once again, which meant that I had a wonderful picnic/autumn afternoon in the park with friends.
The interesting thing is that in America, people threaten to go on strike, but hardly ever do, and the simple threat of a strike inspires people to start negotiating. Here people go on strike and they strike and strike and strike and protest for weeks but the government ignores it.
So after more than a month of pretty regular striking and protesting, France is getting fed up. I noticed a definite change last week- there have been protests and strikes and sit-ins everyday. The students joined the protests last Thursday. I went to a sit-in in town with some friends on Thursday afternoon, tons of students just sat down in the middle of one of the biggest intersections in town. It was a lot of fun.
For reasons that I don't really understand, the gas stations are on strike (or maybe it's the refineries that are striking and not the stations themselves) and so are a lot of trains and buses, making transportation very complicated. School has become sort of optional: if you don't want to go to class, you can go join the protests in town because they are literally always going on. Or you can just stay home, because half of the students and teachers aren't at school anyways. This morning students held a Blocus in front of school, meaning they blocked all the entrances to school so no one could go to class and was basically forced to go on strike. After standing around in the cold for an hour (first frost last night! woohoo), my host mom came and picked me and my host sister up. We spent the morning at home and then went back into town later for a student protest. Tomorrow is the last day of school before a ten-day vacation. I think the strikes will calm down during the vacation and pick up again afterwards. We'll see. Right now the government is just sitting on their fat asses (pardon my French), plugging their ears, repeating their mantra that everything is just fine.
Honestly, I am loving experiencing all this striking business. I find it so exciting. But for the sake of the French people, I hope something happens soon.
So there you go. Two marques de fabriques that I've been learning a whole lot about. Pretty fun cultural immersion stuff.
My next blog post will be sooner, I promise.
Until then,
(Vi)Nora
10.07.2010
Some Information
Bonjour, tout le monde! Look at me, I'm speaking French ooh la la.
It's Thursday afternoon, the sun is out for the first time in about a week. It is a golden autumn day.
Tomorrow after school I'm going to drive to Paris with my host family. We're going to stay with my host brother who is 23 and lives there. On Saturday night we're going to see a soccer game! France vs. Romania. And on Sunday I will get to see my dear freind Kari Olk.
Well, I think now I will write some of the descriptions I promised in my last post.
I will start with where I am living:
I live in a house. The house is on a road which connects to the highway. The highway doesn't really feel like a highway at all, because it is about the width of the street I live on in Minneapolis (roads and cars are so much smaller here and everyone drives a LOT faster). Our road is lined with houses on either side, it's somewhere between a street and a road. It's very charming. My host family's house is a normal-sized house, with a sort of farmhouse vibe. The ceilings are low and the hallways are tight. The walls are painted warm, homey colors and everything feels cozy. There is a great big stone fireplace in the living room which I am guessing I will be spending lots of quality time with this winter. Out back there is a big old garden and and a pen of chickens and several sheds and garages, one of which has been rennovated into a little cottage (a college student is living there this year).
The road curves right after our house and takes you through the dirt road I described awhile ago. You may recall the pasture with the pooping cows. That road is one of my favorite places. It's lined with fields and pastures and and little patches of forest and beautiful stone and vine houses hidden in the distance. If you stand in this one spot on the road you can see a great big château which is lit up at night.
I wish I could describe everything, but word and even pictures don't do it justice.
I am ending this post here because the sun is setting and I want to go walk Zano and visit my pooping cow friends and stare at the countryside before it is dark.
One more thought:
It is silent at night here. I never noticed noise in the city, but now that I'm living in the country I notice the silence. And the darkness. No streetlights outside and no firetrucks on 36th street. Sleeping feels like hibernating.
It's Thursday afternoon, the sun is out for the first time in about a week. It is a golden autumn day.
Tomorrow after school I'm going to drive to Paris with my host family. We're going to stay with my host brother who is 23 and lives there. On Saturday night we're going to see a soccer game! France vs. Romania. And on Sunday I will get to see my dear freind Kari Olk.
Well, I think now I will write some of the descriptions I promised in my last post.
I will start with where I am living:
I live in a house. The house is on a road which connects to the highway. The highway doesn't really feel like a highway at all, because it is about the width of the street I live on in Minneapolis (roads and cars are so much smaller here and everyone drives a LOT faster). Our road is lined with houses on either side, it's somewhere between a street and a road. It's very charming. My host family's house is a normal-sized house, with a sort of farmhouse vibe. The ceilings are low and the hallways are tight. The walls are painted warm, homey colors and everything feels cozy. There is a great big stone fireplace in the living room which I am guessing I will be spending lots of quality time with this winter. Out back there is a big old garden and and a pen of chickens and several sheds and garages, one of which has been rennovated into a little cottage (a college student is living there this year).
The road curves right after our house and takes you through the dirt road I described awhile ago. You may recall the pasture with the pooping cows. That road is one of my favorite places. It's lined with fields and pastures and and little patches of forest and beautiful stone and vine houses hidden in the distance. If you stand in this one spot on the road you can see a great big château which is lit up at night.
I wish I could describe everything, but word and even pictures don't do it justice.
I am ending this post here because the sun is setting and I want to go walk Zano and visit my pooping cow friends and stare at the countryside before it is dark.
One more thought:
It is silent at night here. I never noticed noise in the city, but now that I'm living in the country I notice the silence. And the darkness. No streetlights outside and no firetrucks on 36th street. Sleeping feels like hibernating.
9.27.2010
I have written many different drafts of different blog posts.
I can't seem to figure out what to say- I want to describe everything and yet I also want to keep it all to myself.
It is Monday night.The weather is turning colder here and we're experiencing some of the classic Bretagne precipitation.
I have a killer cold. It is raining outside and in my sinuses.
I said in my last post that I was starting to feel more comfortable and confident around school. I think I can say that with a lot more truth now. I have established a really wonderful group of friends and I am so excited that I have an entire schoolyear with them ahead of me. The same goes for my host family: they are wonderful and make me feel so comfortable and cared for. They are endlessly patient with my inability to find the school bus. They make me laugh and feed me REALLY AWESOME FRENCH FOOD. Eating dinner with them is usually the best part of my day. Tonight we had Galettes, which are a sort of salty crêpe that is a regional speciality. Sometimes we try to speak English at dinner, which is endlessly hilarious. I have been trying for three weeks now to teach Marco, my host dad, to say "yeah" but it keeps coming out "yahyer."
Needless to say, life has been good. I feel more comfortable and less awkward here everyday. I am finding a new normal.
I can't seem to figure out what to say- I want to describe everything and yet I also want to keep it all to myself.
It is Monday night.The weather is turning colder here and we're experiencing some of the classic Bretagne precipitation.
I have a killer cold. It is raining outside and in my sinuses.
I said in my last post that I was starting to feel more comfortable and confident around school. I think I can say that with a lot more truth now. I have established a really wonderful group of friends and I am so excited that I have an entire schoolyear with them ahead of me. The same goes for my host family: they are wonderful and make me feel so comfortable and cared for. They are endlessly patient with my inability to find the school bus. They make me laugh and feed me REALLY AWESOME FRENCH FOOD. Eating dinner with them is usually the best part of my day. Tonight we had Galettes, which are a sort of salty crêpe that is a regional speciality. Sometimes we try to speak English at dinner, which is endlessly hilarious. I have been trying for three weeks now to teach Marco, my host dad, to say "yeah" but it keeps coming out "yahyer."
Needless to say, life has been good. I feel more comfortable and less awkward here everyday. I am finding a new normal.
I think I expressed this in my last post, but it really is quite something to live without having language at your fingertips. Sometimes it is incredibly frustrating, because I can't really be myself in French yet. Everything is so much more confusing and complicated when you can't communicate, which means that I constantly feel stupid and incapable of doing things for myself. Humility has become a fact of life for me.
Sometimes I am homesick for English. The other day I had to call Wells Fargo about my credit card. The representative I talked to was so nice- I explained that I was in France studying abroad for 10 months and we started chatting a bit. I wanted to stay on the phone with him forever and just tell him everything. I have never felt so pathetic in my life.
The funny thing is that speaking French, as hard as it is, feels great. I can't describe it- I just love the feel of trying to function in a different language. Yes, my accent is terrible and I usually just bypass proper grammar to try to get my point across. But I can already feel how much I've improved since I got here. My comprehension is so much quicker and I'm able to pick up on a lot more details when people talk, I can put sentences together much more competently, and my vocabulary is expanding through the roof. The idea of someday speaking fluently seems so exciting and wonderful and....unattainable.
When I don't understand something I say, "Quoi?" which people usually take for "I didn't hear you." When I really mean, "What the f**** are you saying to me?"
This results in them repeating what they said at the same speed, and rather than have them repeat themselves again and again, I just smile and nod vaguely.
A friend of mine told me that language immersion is like drowning, and whether I struggle or not the language will eventually fill my lungs and I'll be pulled under. I thought that was a very accurate and beautiful way to put it.
I think my blog is very heavy on "Nora's stream of consciousness" and very light on actual details about the town and my host family and what I've actually been doing here. Those things are coming, I promise. Very soon. But right now I need to go watch Les Simpsons, take my homeopathic cold medicine, and pass out in my cozy little bed in my cozy little room at the back of the house in the French countryside.
Bisous,
Nora.
9.13.2010
Hello. Here is an update:
School is getting easier as the days go by. And by that I mean navigating the halls and social scene is getting easier- I've managed to make friends despite the fact that I can hardly communicate and although I missed my bus today, I'm gradually mastering the way this school works.The actual classes are very difficult to understand, so I mostly just try my best to keep up and leave it at that. The friends that I've made in my class help me a lot, and there are three other exchange students in my class so the teachers are, for the most part, very patient with us.
My history teacher looks like she just walked out of a Pixar movie. It's very distracting.
The school is set up like a campus, with different buildings for different subjects plus a cafeteria, etc. It's very nice and pretty modern- it seems like it was rennovated in the nineties or something. I find French high school to be much more leisurely than it is in America. There are no classes on Wednesday afternoons and depending on what your schedule is like, classes can start anytime between 8:00 and 10:00 and finish between 3:30 and 5:30. Also, we get an hour and a half for lunch every day and have long periods of time to work on homework or just hang out. Even the bell is relaxing- it's very chime-like.
In other news, I find it hard to believe that I've only been here a week and that I only left home 12 days ago. It feels like months. I can feel myself adjusting more and more to this new lifestyle. I've gotten very used to listening to rapid French conversation with only the vaguest idea of what is being said. In fact, I don't know if I can remember what it feels like to have a real, intelligent conversation. Sometimes it's very lonely and isolating and exhausting, but as the days go by I find myself bothered by it less and less. I feel like I'm occupying a completely different part of my mind. I don't really think in English, but I'm definitely not thinking in French. Sometimes I think in English with a French accent for some reason. Or I try to translate my thoughts into French without even meaning to. Most of the time I feel like I'm just thinking without language, not really thinking at all, or maybe thinking on a different level. I know that sounds weird and sort of self-important; but I think there is something about creating a whole new lifestyle like this that completely changes the way you think about everything, and I can feel that happening to me. I have a newfound respect for everything.
When you can't talk to people as much as I'm used to talking to people (like real, deep conversation), you start to live in your head a little more, and then you have really big thoughts.
There is a dirt road behind the house that cuts between some farmland and pastures with cows. There are old stone houses covered with vines scattered around the field. It's incredible. The other night I walked the dog, Zano, out there and was completely taken aback by how beautiful everything is, and the simple fact that I am actually here actually doing this. And as I was standing there having this moving, clairvoyant moment, the cows in the pasture ahead of me all started pooping in unison. Like HUGE cow turds. With big, loud plopping sounds. It was so damn funny, I laughed until there were tears streaming out of my eyes.
Needless to say, I'm having a wonderful time here. It's not easy, but I really do love it. I love my host family, I love the people I've met, I love how beautiful everything is, and I LOVE the food.
And now it's time for me to go decipher my French Lit homework. Wish me luck.
Nora
(except in France I've been going by Vinora, and I love it.)
School is getting easier as the days go by. And by that I mean navigating the halls and social scene is getting easier- I've managed to make friends despite the fact that I can hardly communicate and although I missed my bus today, I'm gradually mastering the way this school works.The actual classes are very difficult to understand, so I mostly just try my best to keep up and leave it at that. The friends that I've made in my class help me a lot, and there are three other exchange students in my class so the teachers are, for the most part, very patient with us.
My history teacher looks like she just walked out of a Pixar movie. It's very distracting.
The school is set up like a campus, with different buildings for different subjects plus a cafeteria, etc. It's very nice and pretty modern- it seems like it was rennovated in the nineties or something. I find French high school to be much more leisurely than it is in America. There are no classes on Wednesday afternoons and depending on what your schedule is like, classes can start anytime between 8:00 and 10:00 and finish between 3:30 and 5:30. Also, we get an hour and a half for lunch every day and have long periods of time to work on homework or just hang out. Even the bell is relaxing- it's very chime-like.
In other news, I find it hard to believe that I've only been here a week and that I only left home 12 days ago. It feels like months. I can feel myself adjusting more and more to this new lifestyle. I've gotten very used to listening to rapid French conversation with only the vaguest idea of what is being said. In fact, I don't know if I can remember what it feels like to have a real, intelligent conversation. Sometimes it's very lonely and isolating and exhausting, but as the days go by I find myself bothered by it less and less. I feel like I'm occupying a completely different part of my mind. I don't really think in English, but I'm definitely not thinking in French. Sometimes I think in English with a French accent for some reason. Or I try to translate my thoughts into French without even meaning to. Most of the time I feel like I'm just thinking without language, not really thinking at all, or maybe thinking on a different level. I know that sounds weird and sort of self-important; but I think there is something about creating a whole new lifestyle like this that completely changes the way you think about everything, and I can feel that happening to me. I have a newfound respect for everything.
When you can't talk to people as much as I'm used to talking to people (like real, deep conversation), you start to live in your head a little more, and then you have really big thoughts.
There is a dirt road behind the house that cuts between some farmland and pastures with cows. There are old stone houses covered with vines scattered around the field. It's incredible. The other night I walked the dog, Zano, out there and was completely taken aback by how beautiful everything is, and the simple fact that I am actually here actually doing this. And as I was standing there having this moving, clairvoyant moment, the cows in the pasture ahead of me all started pooping in unison. Like HUGE cow turds. With big, loud plopping sounds. It was so damn funny, I laughed until there were tears streaming out of my eyes.
Needless to say, I'm having a wonderful time here. It's not easy, but I really do love it. I love my host family, I love the people I've met, I love how beautiful everything is, and I LOVE the food.
And now it's time for me to go decipher my French Lit homework. Wish me luck.
Nora
(except in France I've been going by Vinora, and I love it.)
9.09.2010
Laissez Le Blogging Commencer
Hi.
I've been gone for a week now, and I'm sorry that I haven't blogged yet. This has been the CRAZIEST week of my life so far. I will try to catch up on some stuff:
First of all, I went to New York for some orientation in a hotel ballroom. It was a lot of fun, which I wasn't expecting, and aalthough the orientation activities themselves were kind of dumb and boring, it was so interesting to meet other students from all over the country. I was able to establish a really great group of friends, and really enjoyed hanging out with people who were in the same boat. It was great to talk to other exchange students about being an exchange student because we all share a similar outlook and attitude that is maybe different from our peers. We flew to Paris together (51 students on one plane!) overnight on Thursday, and arrived in France after having gotten about one hour of sleep. We stayed in Paris in a hostel for two days. Unfortunately, we couldn't leave the hostel because of insurance and blah blah blah, but that ended up being okay because I had a great time being with my friends and meeting students from all over the world (groups of AFS students from other countries met us at the hostel). It was the coolest experience, because we got to make connections with people from Poland, Australia, New Zealand, Canada, Germany, Switzerland, Czech Republic, Latvia, Slovenia, etc. I loved it.
Apparently in Slovenia, "nora" means "stupid." Awesome.
Anyways, that was a lot of fun. On sunday, I took the TGV from Paris to Rennes and met my host father, Marco, and host sister, Maïwenn, at the train station. We drove to their house, about an hour away, which is halfway between two towns: Redon and Bains Sur Oust. It's only 2 miles or so to either town. We had lunch as a family (I met my host mother, Magali, at the house). In France, Lunch is as big of a meal as dinner, if not bigger. Especially on Sundays. So we had a big lunch, and afterwards I had a big nap. Then they took me into Bains Sur Oust, where they have a sort of village-wide rummage sale every Sunday. Then we went home and had crepes for dinner. We don't eat untilm around 8:30 or 9 at night, and dinner is long. So everyone just goes to bed afterwards.
On monday I took the day off of school to rest and recuperate and explore Redon. It was great. Redon is so beautiful it makes me want to cry.
I started school yesterday, it was very scary and very confusing. Maïwenn helped me a lot, even though we aren't in the same class. There was a strike happening yesterday in France parce que Nicolas Sarkozy est une espèce de con and the retirment age is 60. Some of the teachers were striking, so I didn't have class the first and last two hours of the day. I met a really wonderful girl in my class named Lucile, and she invited me to go walk around town with her that afternoon. She speaks some english, so we can use it to supplement my French. We had a great afternoon, and I'm really happy to have met her.
I have lots more to blog, but it's almost dinnertime (it's 8:45 pm) and i don't want to overuse the computer.
Sorry to be so late in starting actual blogging.
To see my pictures of France and orientation, go to this link:
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2076680&id=1322227136&l=954977665
I have lots more to blog, but it's almost dinnertime (it's 8:45 pm) and i don't want to overuse the computer.
Sorry to be so late in starting actual blogging.
To see my pictures of France and orientation, go to this link:
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2076680&id=1322227136&l=954977665
In closing, let me just say that this is the most overwhelming and challenging and exciting thing I have ever done or could ever imagine doing. I'll try to keep this blog updated weekly.
A toute à l'heure,
Vee-no-rah
A toute à l'heure,
Vee-no-rah
8.30.2010
Packin' Up
Well, departure is two (one and a half, really) days away. YAHOOOO IT'S REALLY HAPPENING!!!
But unfortunately there is one very important task left to complete before I can get on a plane and fly far, far away.
Yes, that's right. The time has come for me to begin packing.
My brother is already gone at college, so I am basically just taking over his room and using it to lay out all of my stuff. And by "laying out my stuff" I mean "hurling all of my clothes in a pile on his bed." I actually cannot believe how many articles of clothing I own. Now I just have to figure out what gets to come along.
But unfortunately there is one very important task left to complete before I can get on a plane and fly far, far away.
Yes, that's right. The time has come for me to begin packing.
My brother is already gone at college, so I am basically just taking over his room and using it to lay out all of my stuff. And by "laying out my stuff" I mean "hurling all of my clothes in a pile on his bed." I actually cannot believe how many articles of clothing I own. Now I just have to figure out what gets to come along.
~The Task Before Me~
make this
fit into this
And that's just clothes! I also have to fit books and cameras and shoes in there.
Oh, and also it's like one million bajillion degrees outside with 120% humidity.
This should be fun.
Nora
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