Back in the US!

I got back on Saturday night around 9pm (aka 3am France time), after hours and hours and hoursssss of traveling. I broke my record of longest time ever stayed awake (is that even grammatically correct?) with 24 hours! For most college students, this is hardly an impressive feat and had been accomplished freshman year... but not for me.

I've only been back for 5 days, but I've already hit up all the important places around here... namely, Wegman's. Twice. And Target. Four times. Oh, so pathetic.


Heaven.

I do miss France, though. I miss the French people I met, the other international students, and the students in my program. I also... really miss speaking French. I didn't really feel the same after leaving the DR, maybe because I spent most of holiday break prepping my French... but I really do. I've Facebook chatted a bit in French since I got back, but I haven't spoken at all. It's crazy going from speaking French 80% of them time to... nothing. And even just thinking about next year... I'm taking one class that's taught in French- Advanced French Convo- and it's for one hour, twice a week. Not even nearly enough.

I know Pitt's got a weekly French convo table... hour... café... something... and there's a Spanish one too. I've spent this whole year improving my Spanish and French, but if I don't practice it was pretty much all for naught (whoabigword). So pretty much, if anyone is looking for a Spanish or French language tutor... or even just someone to speak with! I wish there were greater Dominican and/or French populations in Pittsburgh...

Anyway, I can't really think of anything else I could possibly blog about in this blog, considering I'm back and not going anywhere for as long as I know... but thanks to everyone who has been reading this and dealing with my endless and sometimes nonsensical ranting! I plan to put together another blog or SOMEthing to provide me with a way to procrastinate...

Written at 615am on 2.5 hours of sleep.

So what, then, have I learned? Two semesters away from my family and friends and everything normal should have given me at least a few things to think about, right?

Okay well, to start off… I never really was all that into America. I knew our system was flawed and our citizens a bit ridiculous and I think I was just kind of anti-America just to be anti-America. I’d see people with their flags and their bumper stickers and their (in my opinion, at the time) stupid pride that I never understood. Then, of course, I’d turn around and put a French flag pin on my backpack and photos of the Dominican Republic on my walls and talk about how I couldn’t wait to get out of the United States, without really knowing a lot a lot about any other country.

But now… well, excuse the extreme wave of corniness that’s about to come your way… but this year abroad has really made me proud to be an American. Am I about to get the lyrics to the Star Spangled Banner tattooed on my ankle (err… if I knew them all…) or paint my house red, white, and blue? …no. But I think what has happened is that I’ve just gotten really protective of the US because of my time in France, and really proud of what we do have, comparing it to the DR.


Credit.

When I first got to the DR, I was all ready to deal with a bit of US bashing, but really, all I ever heard from the Dominicans vis-à-vis the US were good things. Many people who I talked to watched our TV shows, listened to our music, and were in love with our president. I cannot even begin to count the number of times my friends and I were approached by guys looking for a way to get to the States. And I don’t mean them catcalling to us in the streets, but really approaching us and asking if they could pay us so that we’d marry them and bring them to the US (err...)

I loved the DR, but it’s true that we can hardly talk about what’s not going well in DC if we compare it to the corruption in the DR (#99). From high up in the government down policemen who won’t fine you for speeding if you pay them off… it’s everywhere. The US is not at all perfect in that regard either, but I’ve always felt as if there was considerably more good than bad going on in the government. I mean, it is a developing country, so maybe it’s not fair to compare it to the States that way? am I just rambling? I think I am. Anyway, maybe it’s not fair to compare it that way, but spending four months there really showed me that the US has definitely got its act together. So in the DR, it was a combo of Dominicans telling me how great my own country was, and me seeing it on my own.

But then in France… it really couldn’t have been much more different. American music and TV shows are just as popular, yes, and so is Obama for the most part… but I just got hit with stereotype after stereotype after stereotype about Americans. Be it from a French person, or another international student in my class. Do I generalize about people from other countries? Yes. But considerably considerably less now than before this year… and also, I’m not thick enough to actually approach someone from another country and ask them a question equivalent to “So how many times a week do you eat at McDonalds?”

Really? Really now?

What else have I gotten… hmm… the McDo thing is big, really… and just fast food in general. A few weeks ago, someone implied that my parents didn’t know how to cook because they were American and everything was either fast food or prepackaged. Nope… I ate dinner together at the table with my family almost every single night for the first 18 years of my life, and we probably go out to eat once or twice a month.

I’ve also been called “skinny, for an American” (thanks for that one too).

The stereotype that Americans work too much and are obsessed with money… well yes, it is a fact that Americans spend more time at work than the French (35 hour work weeks, for the most part, and madddd vacation time), but we’re not necessarily obsessed with money… okay, maybe I personally wasn’t the best person to combat that stereotype because of my near-constant state of freaking out about my dwindling bank account balance… but I think that being concerned over the fact that you’re not working because you’ve been abroad for a year is considerably different than being driven to earn the most money you possibly can without sharing a cent.

And there are others. I know there are others. The food ones are just the ones that stick with me because those are the ones that we hear the most often.

I decided to have a go at remembering the lyrics to our national anthem. I’m writing this from a train with no internet, so I swear I’m not cheating…

Oh say can you see, by the dawn’s early light
Where so proudly we hailed, as the twilight’s last gleaming
Whose bright stripes and bright stars
Through the perilous flight
O’er the ramparts we watched, were so gallantly streaming
And the rocket’s red glareeeeee
The bombs bursting in airrrrrrr
Gave proof to the night
Where our flag was still there
Oh say does that star spangled banner yet waaaaaaaaave
O’er the land of the free, and the home of the brave.

There are a fair few words in that song that I think I’ve only ever said in context of that song. I mean, how often does the word “spangled” come up in conversation? I was talking to one of my host brothers a few weeks ago about the anthem, and I tried to translate the title… and it was difficult. Spangled. What the heck does that even mean? Shiny? I also had no idea how to spell “perilous”.

I think that paragraph up there ^ ^ ^ just reaffirmed everyone (who already knows me well enough) that my English is hardly pro level…

Anyway, geez, heck of a side track there… back to what I learned. Right. So I’m now a million times prouder to be an American than I was a year ago, thanks to the Dominicans who encouraged me and the French who got me all defensive and made me want to slap them back with outrageous French stereotypes. You don’t see me approaching you and asking you where YOUR beret is, you sex fiend, you. Pssssssh…

This is just one entry of (hopefully) a few where I get all reflective and crap and talk about my year abroad. But to sum this one up, America doesn't completely suck.

Things I Brought To France That Were Totally and Completely Unnecessary

Rainboots: yes, it rains, but French people don't seem to be big on rainboots.

German Phrasebook: didn't go to Germany. if if I did, still probably wouldn't have used it.

Purple fingerless arm warmers/mittens: this is also on the list of "Things I Bought For Myself Because They Were $5 At H&M And Have Never Used"

Hairdryer: they have one here, and it's just been a waste of space in my luggage.

Hair straighter: I used it 3 or 4 times, it started to smell like it was burning, and then it started to melt. literally.

My Gameboy Color and the seven games I brought: not since the Philly airport.

Black fancy skirt: too lazy to be fancy.

One teal sandal: not sure where the other one is, possibly in the Dominican Republic.

Et Si C'était Vrai...

Whie I was on vacation, I finished the book Et Si C'était Vrai... (translated as "If Only It Were True") by Marc Levy. There's a quote (an epicly long one) that I really liked in the book, and I just found it online. I'm too lazy to translate it into English, so here's an entry for those of you who speak French.

Imaginez que chaque matin, une banque vous ouvre un compte de 86400 euro. Simplement, il y a deux règles à respecter.

La première règle est que tout ce que vous n’avez pas dépensé dans la journée vous est enlevé le soir. Vous ne pouvez pas tricher, ne pouvez pas virer cet argent sur un autre compte, ne pouvez que le dépenser mais chaque matin au réveil, la banque vous réouvre un nouveau compte, avec à nouveau 86400 euro; pour la journée.

Deuxième règle la banque peut interrompre ce « jeu » sans préavis ; à n’importe quel moment elle peut vous dire que c’est fini, qu’elle ferme le compte et qu’il n y en aura pas d’autre.

Que feriez-vous ? A mon avis, vous dépenseriez chaque euro à vous faire plaisir, et à offrir quantité de cadeaux aux gens que vous aimez. Vous feriez en sorte d’utiliser chaque euro pour apporter du bonheur dans votre vie et dans celle de ceux qui vous entourent.

Cette banque magique, nous l’avons tous, c’est le temps ! Chaque matin, au réveil, nous sommes crédités de 86400 secondes de vie pour la journée, et lorsque nous nous endormons le soir, il n’y a pas de report. Ce qui n’a pas été vécu dans la journée est perdu, hier vient de passer. Chaque matin, cette magie recommence. Nous jouons avec cette règle incontournable : la banque peut fermer notre compte à n’importe quel moment, sans aucun préavis à tout moment, la vie peut s’arrêter. Alors qu’en faisons-nous de nos 86400 secondes quotidiennes ?

Corny, but I like it.

So, now that we're all caught up...

What has been happening in darling little Rennes since break?

Well, I go home in a week. BAM. This whole thing has flownnnnn by. I'm not going to get all sentimental and stuff, because I still have a week left and I'll still be posting. But things are winding up here in Renny Rennes.

Exams have started. I had... Oral Comprehension (which I didn't know about until I walked into the classroom...whoops), Written Expression (easy), and The World of Work (easier than I thought it'd be) last week. Grammar and Convo tomorrow, French Society Tuesday, and Phonetics on Wednesday. I had my translation finals before break... I still don't know what I got yet. I also don't know how to find out what I got, either. I'm just really in a place of oohhhhhhidontreallycare right now. Which, yes, isn't great, but also... I'm here on pass/fail. So what do you expect, really?

Thursday I had a 6 hour break in between my two finals, so I went into town and got lunch and gelato (gelato #3 of the week...) with my friend Clémence. I've found that it's really thanks to all the time that I spend with French people that my French has improved, and not really because of my time spent in class. Here, especially in these past two months, I've been spending considerably more time with French people than with other Americans. I think that that has made a huge difference, and I've seen an exponential improvement that I didn't feel neither earlier in the semester, nor with Spanish in the Dominican Republic (where I spent 90% of my waking hours with other Americans).

Thursday night there was a party for all of us students and our host families- it was the 40th Anniversary of the CIEE program in Rennes (CIEE is the program I'm in Rennes with). It was at a fancy "hotel-spa-restaurant" called Lecoq-Gadby. We didn't have dinner there, just some drinks and hors d'oeuvres. There were a lot of speakers- two of the program directors, an old program director, 2 students, a host family, an old student, and the director of CIREFE (the international program at my university here). And I talked for 2 seconds. I made a photo montage thingy with photos from this semester, and it was shown right at the end.


Me + host fam

It was a nice party, it was cool to meet my friends' host families- this is the first time we've (students/families) been all together since mid-January where we all met for the first time. My two host "brothers" came too, after work, and drew the attention of a good number of my American friends...

Friday I spent some time with a friend from home, Megan, and her roommate, who are spending the next month backpacking around Europe. Afterwards, I went to the end-of-the-year party for CIREFE, which was at PYMs, a nightclub in Rennes. All of my professors were there, which was a bit surprising, but it was a good time.

This next week is going to be full of packing, not studying for exams, eating as much French food as possible, and some au revoirs. I'm assuming I'll blog SOMEwhere in there... making up for the fact that I've failed at blogging regularly during the semester...


Rue St. Michel: high on the list of places I'll miss in Rennes.

Spring Break: Sketchy Paris + Amsterdam

Tuesday morning I said goodbye to Mom at Charles de Gaulle airport and headed over to Gare Nord, again, for my train to Amsterdam. I had a couple of hours to kill, so I decided to explore a bit around the 10ème.

And... it was scary. Okay, no, not scary, but not the nicest area. There were sketchy wedding dress shops and places where you can buy human hair (not unlike Pittsburgh...), and well, I don't know what else but I just really did NOT get a good vibe from it. But I kept walking, and ended up (for the 5894053905th time) at Montmartre (18ème). And then... well no, I didn't get lost, per-say, I just got disoriented. And then realized that I reallllly needed to get back to the train station, but I couldn't figure out which way to go, and I was running out of time/freaking out, and then I just bit the bullet and bought a subway ticket, took it two stops, and made my train. Amsterdammmmm.

By the time I get to Amsterdam, I have no cash left. So the first thing I do is go to an ATM and get some money out, so I can buy a ticket for the tram... and the machine gives me all 50s. I head to a convenience store to try and break it by buying some cheesy snacks and a soda... and I somehow walk out with a bag of cheesy snacks, a soda, and two lottery tickets. Not really sure how that happened but it did. I don't think I won. I'm not sure, because alas, I do not read Dutch, but I don't think I won.

Not that it even mattered for me to get change, because I didn't pay for the tram. I didn't pay for the tram most of the times I took the tram. I just didn't really understand how to buy the tickets... and if no one was going to say anything to me, then I'm not going to say anything to them. (horrible person)

Thanks to some very nice Dutch teenagers, I managed to find my hostel, where I then met up with three of my friends from my program who had been traveling together for the previous week and a half. We visited the city a bit, got some pizza, and then got lost coming back. Of course.

The next morning I experienced the excellent continental breakfast provided by the hostel... which was comprised of stale bread, cheese slices, pb, jelly, Nutella, and stale cornflakes. However, the hostel was mad cheap, so I guess you get what you pay for... I then went and headed to Albert Cuypmarkt, which is a huge market that's open 6 days a week. I was a little bit disappointed, but it was still cool. It was more touristy than I had thought it'd be, but they still had some good fruits/vegetables/produce/etc. I then spent some time in Sarphatipark reading. It was soo nice out.

Met up with my friends, got pancakes, then went to my second brewery (ooh, that word is fun to type. brewery. do it. brewery.) tour at Heineken. This one was a lot more commercialized than the one in Bruges, complete with a "4D" ride, personal TVs with old Heineken commercials, and beer tasting.



Thursday started with a run in Sarphatipark, then I met up for lunch with my friend Arthur who's spending a term in Amsterdam. After lunch I went to Dam Square, where there was a huge concert/festival going on. It was a holiday, actually, Liberation Day, which celebrates the end of the occupation by the Nazis in Holland during WWII.


Shopping in Amsterdam

The next morning I started my trek back to Rennes. I had my railpass, but I didn't have any reservations or tickets. The booklet says that you "need" reservations for actually all of the trains that I was planning on taking: Amsterdam->Brussels, Brussels->Paris, and Paris->Rennes. However, I decided I didn't care, so I didn't make any. And I was fine. it was a long day, yes, full of planes (not really), trains, and automobiles (okay not that either), but I got back at a good hour.


Canals in Amsterdam

CITY	POSITIVES	NEGATIVES
Bruges	Really nice hotel breakfast Cool market Pretty buildings Chocolateee	Cold Couldn't understand much
Brussels	Things weren't too expensive EU was really cool The fact that the entire city is obsessed with a pissing mannequin.	Cold
Paris	I understand the subway. I understand the language. Lots of cool walking tours. Getting into stuff for free with my visa. Cool bookstores Awesome market.	Had to be on the lookout for dog crap again in on the sidewalk... The guys at the hotel were creepers. Things a lot more spread out.
Amsterdam	Everyone spoke English, was really nice Quaint, cute city. ...I found a really cool earring store.	Nearly getting run over by bikes, trams. Mad small hostel.

Spring Break: Paris II

Andddd here we go...

The next day, Sunday, we headed to Place de la Bastille, and later to Le Marais (the marsh), which are in/near the 3ème and 4ème. There was a hugeeeeee market selling everything from seafood to scarves to toys to Lebanese food to... everything. We spent a few hours there, got lunch, and enjoyed a jazz band that was playing. There's a lot more music in the streets in Paris than there is in Rennes, and I rarely give money. I did this time though, because they were just awesome. Mostly brass instruments, some people singing, dancing around...

I really enjoyed exploring Le Marais. This area has a huge Jewish/Gay/Chinese population (no, not gay Chinese Jewish people) and is a really cool funky area. We did a lot of shopping, then headed back to the hotel because I was craving a run.

I left from our hotel, so like the Eiffel Tower area, crossed a bridge, ran along the bank, passed the Louvre, and headed back to Le Marais. Why go all the way back there? Well. While I had been there that afternoon, I had seen the first bagel I had ever seen in all of France. So obviously, obviously it was worth going back for. It was amazing. Wish I took a photo.

However... on my way back to the hotel, I had a bit of a problem. I wanted to take a more direct route to get back, and I thought I knew where I was going, cutting through the left bank and everything... but clearly, I did not, because I got back to the hotel over an hour later than I had planned. It was so frustrating though! SO CONFUSING. I just kept going in circles. Mom wasn't happy... but then we got Chinese food and it was all good!

Monday, our last day in Paris, was directed by Rick Steves. Rick Steves is a travel writer who I had never heard of, but apparently is a big deal, because my Mom is pretty much in love with him. Anyway, on Monday we followed his walking tout of the Left Bank. I had never been in that area before (except for the previous day where I ran circles through it, but besides that...) and it was pretty cool! We got galettes for lunch, did some shopping, and walked around Luxembourg gardens.


Locks on the Pont des Arts

We then headed over to Le Bon Marché. "Bon marché" means inexpensive, but that couldn't be any further from the truth with this store. It's one of the most famous department stores in Paris, and is "sometimes regarded as the first department store in the world." Thanks Wikipedia. Anyway, it is huge and really expensive. Ton and tons of top designers and things that I don't think I'l everrrrr be able to afford. It was fun to look around though.
They also have a grocery store, where everything is pretty much just as expensive. That was pretty interesting too, especially checking out their imported foods section. A jar of peanut butter for 7€? Canned pumpkin for 9€? Craziness. My favorite was a bottle of water for like... 80€, I think it was. The bottle had Swarovski (took me like 5 minutes to figre out how to spell that) crystals glued onto it. Classy.

Later that night we headed out to the Latin Quarter and got a gyro and an ENORMOUS gelato.


My diet starts... tomorrow. (They weren't both mine)

Spring break: Paris

So, here's where I'm going to talk about Paris. But before that, let me just show you all what I'm dealing with over here:



I think the reason I never do my homework is because I have nowhere to do it...

Game of "I Spy", anyone? I Spy... 3D glasses, a Sudoku book, gold eyeshadow, and a sweater with rainbow buttons.

So Friday night, Mom and I arrived in Paris. I was pretty happy to be back in France... I understand the language, I know my way around (for the most part... details to follow later), and also... my phone works. Yayyy SFR.

Our hotel was in the 7ème arrondissement, I think, and about a 10 minute walk away from the Eiffel Tower. On our first night there were went and visited (after getting dinner/gelato at Rue Cler) the tower, and went up to the first level. The view was gorgeous, of course, but it was also pretty crowded. And of course, there were a lot of stairs involved. But we were used to this by this point. Afterwards we headed out to Trocadéro for a view of the tower at night... along with pretty much every other tourist in Paris at the moment. And every mini Eiffel Tower keychain "salesman" within a 30km radius.

The next morning Mom went to the Louvre (pssssssh been there, done that) and I did some shopping (way to be cultured, Katy).

Then... Mom went to Notre Dame, and I did some shopping.

Okay, I actually did more exploring than shopping. I walked to the 4ème, and actually stumbled upon the hostel I stayed it during orientation. Crazy. So hard to believe that just 4 months ago, I was meeting everyone at MIJE Fourcy. Anyway... I then popped into a Monoprix to get a soda, and I found that they had these really cute "limited edition" Diet Coke bottles. So I mean, of course I had to buy one. I got it, I sat down at the Monoprix... and I couldn't open the bottle. It was like a beer bottle cap, but I didn't have any way to open it. There was too much of a line at the counter, plus a doubted that the girl at the counter would help me. I tried to twist it through my coat sleeve... and ripped a small hole in my coat. I tried to whack it against the wooden table... and dented the table.

I went outside, and had the genius idea of whacking it against the side of a trash can. So I mean, there I am, a non-Parisian looking pretty out of place standing next to a trashman and seemingly pummeling it with a metal soda bottle. It didn't work, and I was getting some pretty weird looks. Fortunately, a guy came over to me and helped me open it. Then it exploded. Success.

...why did I spend more time telling this sotry than describing anything else in Paris so far?

Anyway, I then met up with Mom and we got some of the most expensive/amazing ice cream I'd ever had. Berthillon's... quality. We then headed over to the Champs Elysées and did some window shopping at the most expensive stores in France. We did the Arc de Triomphe, which I had never done before, and took a lot of photos of the awesome night view.


Ohhhhh ice cream


View from the Arc de Triomphe


C'est moi! [/cliché]

And that's all I'm going to post in this entry, because I hate when they go on and on and on... so I'll just write another for Paris days 3 + 4 :)

Spring break: Brussels

Okayyyy city number two! This entry is going to be a fairly short one, because we were only there for a day and ALSO I have the end-of-the-year CIREFE party to get to...

We got to Brussels in the mid-afternoon. After storing our bags, we headed into town. Our first stop was this indoor-but-still-outdoor-but-it-has-a-ceiling type thing. It reminded me of a combination between Caesar's Palace in Las Vegas and the markets in Rabat, Morocco. We got a late lunch and did some window shopping, but most things were pretty pricey.




We walked more around Brussels, ate some chocolate, continued my endless search for "the perfect keychain" (I'm collecting keychains now, btw), and did some sightseeing. Random: There's a statue in Brussels- it's called the Mannekin Pis- and it's just a statue of a little boy peeing. Well, okay it's a foutain. But there are pictures/replicas/signs EVERYwhere about it. EVERYWHERE. So bizarre.

After a nap and some "16 ans et Enceinte" (16 and Pregnant) watching, we headed back out into town. We had been eating good food the previous few days, but we had never really gone all out and splurged. That word isn't even in my vocabulary 99% of the time, unless we're talking about mass quantities of diet soda. I got some pork in beer sauce covered in cheese, with some french fries and a Hoegaarden. Quality.



The next morning we headed over to the European Parliament! SO MANY FLAGS. We took an audio tour and learned a lot about the history of the parliment, how it works, etc. Mine was in French, because it had been a few days since I had spoken and... I just felt it was necessary.

However.

Question.

Why is Switzerland not part of the European Union?!

I mean there's probably some really good reason that I just don't get, but it just seems so sad that it's surrounded by all of these EU countries and it's just... not.

This is worth a Wiki search. Here's a link to Switzerland-EU Relations. If you're so interested. Which I was.

Anyway, anyway. Soon after that we headed for the train station. Back to France!

Spring break: Bruges

Oh, hey. I've been back from break for less than a week and I've already uploaded all of my photos to Facebook (...pretty much because everyone else was... peer pressure...) and I'm blogging. Granted, last semester I blogged about once or twice a week, but whatever, that's completely besides the point...

So this vacation, my mom came to visit. We spent a day in Rennes, 2 in Bruges (Belgium), 1 in Brussels (also Belgium), and 4 in Paris (I'm not going to even...) After she left, I met up with some friends in Amsterdam for about 3 days. Soooo here we go:

We leave from Rennes early Monday morning (this is Monday the... 27th. right. right after Easter) and get on a train to Paris. We've got some time to kill in Paris, and I haven't gotten a haircut in roughly 6 years (okay or 6 months), so... what do we do? Oh, wait, there's a Beauty Bubble in the Paris Montparnasse train station! sure, okay, I'll get my hair cut in a train station for 10€. I refused to let my mom take a photo, because I'm sure I looked like a tool... everyone kept staring at me as they walked by with their fancy not-from-a-train-station haircuts and expensive luggage and such... but whatever. Cheapest haircut ever [that didn't turn out horribly].

Anyway, back to the trip.

We hop on a metro from Montparnasse up to Gare Nord in Paris. Last time I was in Gare Nord was when I came to Paris for a few days my senior year in high school. It was exactly how I remembered it, complete with creepers and everything. Anyway, a few hours (and a quick layover in Brussels) later, we're in Bruges! Let me tell you a bit about Bruges, as I myself did not know anything about it before my mom and Rick Steves (which is my new favorite person, ever) intervened...

BRUGES:

Northern Beligum, but not exactly on the ocean-> "The Venice of the North"

They speak Flemish ("Belgian Dutch") and French (but nearly everyone we spoke with also spoke English)

There's a giant tower in the center of town- the 13th century Belfort (Belfry). It "offers unrivalled views of Bruges and beyond, be sure to climb the 366 steps to the top where a picture postcard perfect panorama awaits you." (did it. ouch.)

"The Church of our Lady is one of the city’s most interesting churches containing many works of art, most notable being Michelangelo’s Madonna with Child marble." (didn't do it)

They really like bikes

and chocolate

but mostly bikes.



The first night, we grab a lovely dinner of mayo with a side of french fries (whoops, sorry, don't say "french"- they're just "frites"), a fine Belgian waffle with chocolate sauce and banana, and chocolates. We hit up Dumon for chocolates. I went in and asked for the craziest flavor they had... because really, who wants to eat a plain caramel or truffle, which you can just get back home? However, I didn't get the response I was hoping for. Instead, this Belgian lady sneers at me a little, and informs me that "We only have traditional chocolates here at Dumon. We don't do any "different" flavors". Okay, well look at you little miss boring.


Super fork + knife used when eating a waffle

Still, I manage to find some flavors that I've never gotten before. Speculoos and a marzipan strawberry. We continue to walk around the city until it gets dark, then head back to the hotel.

The next morning, after eating a enormous continental breakfast, we walk outside of the hotel and see an awesommmme market right in the square. It was smaller than the Saturday market at Rennes, but a lot louder. A lot of yelling in Flemish. We head to De Halve Maan ("The Half Moon"... I think) for a brewery tour, after getting lost for a solid 20 minutes. It happens. The street names are SO confusing. The tour was nice, and we got a "free" beer afterwards. Upon leaving, we were right near The Chocolate Line (what are the odds?!), where I bought a Cola flavored chocolate (surprised?) and one that was called "Marrakech"... I was intrigued... according to the website, it's "white chocolate ganache with mint leaves".

We climbed the tower in the middle of town (so. many. stairs.) then rented some bikes and rode out to Damme, where we ate dinner in a classy restaurant with absolutely terrifying photos of clowns on the walls. Seriously. I don't think they could've clashed more with the overall theme of the restaurant if they tried. *shudder* I wish I could've gotten a photo, but I felt that that would be a bit inappropriate...


The tower


Sooooo many bikes in Bruges.

The next morning mom bikes a bit more, I go for a run (and feel as if I'm the first person the Belgians have ever seen running, by the looks they were giving me...). We do some shopping, then head to the train station... off to Brussels.

Too tired to continue writing tonight/I'm in a middle of a good book... I'll TRY and get to writing about Brussels tomorrow... hm.

That weekend I saw Lyon from the back of a motorcycle

Hello, again. So, two weekends ago I headed south... east... to Lyon. Lyon apparently has nothing to do with lions, and actually used to be named Lugdunum, back in the day. However, there are a lot of lion-esque motifs all over the place. Anyway. It was about 5 hours on the TGV, which wasn't too too bad.


I live in Rennes, which is on the little peninsula thingy in the west, pretty much directly west of Paris.

I met up with my friend Florian, who's from outside of Lyon and who had been renting a room at my host parents' house for the first few months I was there. He picked me up from the gare (train station)... on his motorcycle.

Now, I had been on a motorcycle before, for approximately... 45 seconds, when I was in Samaná. And that was terrifying, because I did not know the guy at all, we were going up a reallllllly steep hill, and we were on a cliff.

This time however, there were no cliffs in sight (well, not yet. I haven't gotten to Saturday yet), but we were speeding down the highway at like, a million km/hr. No, not really, but it just felt like it. It was probably only like 5000 km/hr. I'm really bad with metric stuff. But it was soooooo much fun, once I got over the fear that I was going to die and learned how to keep from getting tons of bugs in my face.



Friday we went to an old church on a hill overlooking Lyon. I forgot the name of the church... but it was pretty :) and historical. As many things in Europe are.


Me, obvs, and Lyon. Taken by Florian... my camera isn't that good.

We then explored Old Lyon, which was really quaint and full of old cafés. Again, typical Europe. We also walked along the banks of the Rhone River, with pretty much everyone else in Lyon. There were people running, biking, having picnics, drawing, skate boarding, drinking, drinking, drinking while running (honestly)... it was really cool.

After dinner we went and played billiards. I played for the first time about two months ago, and I've since learned that my talent for billiards is only slightly weaker than my talent for ice skating... and I think many of you know of my prowess as an ice skater... Still, I enjoy playing, especially when I know no one is taking it seriously.

Saturday we got up early and headed out (on the motorbike) to Annecy. Annecy is probably on my list of the Top 10 Most Absolutely Gorgeous Places I've Ever Seen. Actually, no. Top 5. Seriously. Breathtaking.



Here are the Google Image Search results for Annecy. Def. worth looking at. Gahhhh I love this place.

After getting some food and walking around the lake for awhile, we decided to head up the mountain on the motorbike. Because why not. It's the Alps. So we did. It took about 15, 20 minutes to get up the mountain... and then we arrived in Sound of Music land. Seriously. All I wanted to do was spin around in circles and sing about how the hillllllllllls were aliveeeee. Florian didn't understand the reference though, and neither did anyone else around me, so I stopped pretty quickly.

Side note: The Sound of Music is translated into French as La Mélodie du Bonheur...The Sound of Happiness. However, in Latin American Spanish it's La Novicia Rebelde, which is like The Stubborn/Rebellious Novice or something. when I found that out, if made my life.





We took the highway back, which only took us about an hour and a half. On the way there we drove through a bunch of quaint adorable French towns, which took about 3 hours, but was definitely worth it.

The next day we were totally wiped out and just hung out until I caught my train. It was an awesomeee weekend and I'm so glad that I got to see a completely different part of France. I leave in a month! So crazy. Okay, actually, I have my ticket for a month from now. I'm trying to find ways to stay here for a bit, but I'm not sure if that's going to work out. After this week, we're on vacation for two weeks, and my Mom is coming. After that, only two more weeks until everyone goes home. I don't want to leave!! Craziness. This term has flown by.

Okay, I'm going to go for a run now in the nice 75 degree weather that we've got going on over here... then dinner, watch some Top Chef... not do any homework, because I don't have any... la la la...

Break #1: Part 4

Sunday:

Checked out of the hostel, got more Starbucks, bought some nasty seaweed crackers at an Asian grocery store because I didn’t know that they were seaweedy because I don’t read Chinese… anyway. We went to a mini street fair for a few minutes, then got on the metro and headed right back to the airport. Flight was short again (Europeans have it so easy… cheap airfare, short flights…) and we arrived in Paris in the mid afternoon.

I find it funny that Paris doesn’t even faze me anymore. I’ve been there 4 times, and it’s already just “oh. Paris. Oh…look, there’s the Eiffel Tower. There’s the Louvre. There’s the Arc de Triomphe. No big deal.” I wouldn’t say by any means that I’ve seen the whole city, but I can get myself around.

Anyway, so we kill some time in Paris and meet up with a friend and her boyfriend by Notre Dame (oh, look, there’s Notre Dame) before our train ride back.

Now see, it’d been a long break. We’d traveled by bus, metro, plane, train, taxi, horse (no, not really), and had been lugging our bags with us everywhere. We were tired (happy, but tired) and just wanted to get home. Our train fortunately arrived at the station in Paris on time, at like 10ish, and we thought that we’d get back in time to make our last bus of the night (1235ish). If we missed it, that’d mean two really expensive cab rides.

However. The train in front of us (Paris -> Rennes @ 9) hit a cow. Or, as they said on the loudspeaker “une bete sauvage“ (“a savage beast”). I don’t know if the conductor was trying to be funny or if the French people’s use of the words “savage” and “beast’ are different from ours. No one was hurt, fortunately (except the cow, I’m assuming…), but everyone from the first train had to get off and wait for our train to come. Once we pulled up to their station (about 1 hour outside of Rennes), they all pilled onto our train. Between the two stops, this added about an hour to our trip… aka, there was no chance at all of me making my bus.

Everyone was grumbling and tired and there is really nothing worse than a train full of unhappy campers. Especially when they’re French. I would’ve been more worried, but my host dad told me that he’d pick me up at the train station. So it was all goooood.

Anyway, yeah! That was my spring break. 3 countries, 3 flights, 4 new stamps in my passport (out of Paris, in/out of Morocco, into Madrid), countless pain au chocolats and Diet Cokes consumed… it was good times though. A bit stressful, but I had a really good time. Sorry this took me like 85904353 years to write and post. My next break is in a week- my Mom is coming to visit and we’re going to hit up Paris and Belgium. Expect an entry about that in mid-August, probably...

Link to photo albums on Facebook: one & two.

Break #1: Part 3

Friday:

Note how these entries are getting shorter, as I have less drive to bore you all with the day-to-day details. Okayyyy so spent a lot of time in the Market, met up with Andy and her host sister and got Tajine (chicken, vegetables… kind of hard to explain, but really good) then headed to the ruins.

Ruins=really old. Growing up in such a young country (Awwww the US is such a baby), you don’t really see too often things that are REALLY REALLY REALLY OLD. Not to say that the Native Americans didn’t leave such behind, yada yada yada, but nothing like this.



After even more time at the Market, Andy and I headed to this really cool poetry slam thing. I’d never been to one before and didn’t really know what to expect. This slam was run by a 20-something American girl who received a grant to travel around the world and… errr, okay I don’t totally remember, but her goal had to do with liberating women, specifically teenage girls.

So what it was, and it was mostly in English (little bit of French, little bit of Arabic), was a poetry showcase. Girls would come up and read poems that they themselves wrote about being a woman in 21st century Morocco. They talked about the veil, crushes, harassment, family… it was really, really interesting. There was even a Moroccan hip hop artist. She sang in Arabic and I have absolutely NO idea what she was saying… but everyone else seemed to like it, so I assume it was well-written and woman-liberating...

Saturday:

By this time, out numbers had dwindled to two: me and my friend Ashley. At 5am we got up and hopped on a train back to Fez. From there we headed to the airport and got our second pain au chocolat of the day. Never did I think that I’d be a pain au chocolat conaisseuse, but Morocco really has nothing on France in that department. That being said, the couscous at my university in Rennes is like eating dirt compared to Moroccan couscous. Anyway, enough about the food…

After a really short flight, we land in Madrid, where we stay for less than 24 hours. We checked into our hostel, and found our room (which we share with 15 other people). There’s also a kitchen and a living room type area… it was actually really cool. Everyone was from a different country, and the two of us spent the afternoon with a Canadian girl who’s an au pair in France for the year.

We made a quick stop at Starbucks (overpriced, claro) and decided to do a Tapas Tour.

Para que sepas, a tapas are like Spanish snacks that’re eaten with alcohol, usually. I’m not talking Lay’s Potato Chips or string cheese here, I’m talking chocolate bulls tail, peppers & sausage, potatoes, more potatoes… yeah. That’s what we got. I wasn’t kidding about the chocolate bulls tail, by the way. It was like, stewed and it looked/tasted like beef stew. You wouldn’t have even known. The ‘tour’ part of the Tapas Tour means that we paid a flat fee at the beginning of the afternoon then went from restaurant to restaurant trying all of these tapas.

Kind of like a bar crawl, but with tapas, pretty much. After that we did the bar crawl.

It was great to be able to use my Spanish again. I know that I have an American accent, and an even stronger Dominican accent (which is confusing, because I'm white)… and that definitely threw a few people off. Still though, it was nice to be in a country where I could understand pretty much everything that people were saying. In Morocco, while French is widely spoken/understood, Arabic is the main language. I couldn’t even remember how to say “hello” for more than two minutes at a time.

Link to photo albums on Facebook: one & two.

Break #1: Part 2

Tuesday:

Ryanair is sketch, and I’ll just leave it at that. However, it turns out the rumor that you have to pay to use the bathrooms is false. The flight is only about 2 ½ hours, and I pass most of the time reading The Memory Keeper’s Daughter. Totally recommend it.



So we get to Fez! Yeahhhhhhh! We all change over our money (Moroccan money is so pretty) and get a cab into downtown Fez. Side note for anyone who was in the DR: the cars used for Moroccan cabs are not at all unlike the cars used as conchos in the DR. really brought me back.


Concho look-a-likes

We spend about half a lifetime walking around trying to find a hotel and the medina (old city). Turns out we were walking in the complete opposite direction. We take another cab and arrive in the medina, which is like a market and touristy area and full of hotels and good food.

We checked into a hotel for like, 5 or 6 bucks American per person? We managed to convince some guys who were trying to get us to stay in THEIR hotel that I was Spanish, which was pretty fun… anyway, we then got some lunch. Mmmmmmm LUNCH. For about $7 American I got a Moroccan salad, tons of bread, Shishkabob, fruit, and almond milk. It was soooo good.

After lunch we walked around the market for awhile. I bought some knockoff red Converse and some other little trinkets, then found an internet café to let people (read: my dad) know that I am alive. We then head back to the room and I promptly fall asleep. It’s 5pm. I wake up again at 11am. I think that may be a record for me. There were 5 of us, and 3 beds, but I got my own bed because “I slept on the floor last night so I think I freaking deserve it.” It was lovely.



Wednesday:

We walked around the market a bit more, then our group split up for the rest of the trip. Two of my friends headed to Marrakesh, and me and two others got on a train to Rabat. The train car reminded me soooo much of Harry Potter. That was the first of many Harry Potter references that we applied on this trip.

Upon arriving in Rabat (2, 3 hour train ride) we found a hotel right in the city. It was kind of expensive, but it had a shower… which was worth the extra money. I had my first OFFICAL Moroccan couscous… and it was so good. We spent the rest of the day walking around the Rabat’s market and doing some sightseeing. We spent a lot of time at the Kasbah taking photos of the ocean… it was so gorgeous.



Thursday:

Breakfast was freshly squeezed juice. My friend who was in Morocco last semester had been raving about it for awhile, so we obviously had to try it. I got a mixed fruit flavor, but I also tried Avocado. Yes, it sounds like it would be nasty… but it was absolutely delicious. We moved into a cheaper hotel room (no shower =/ ) for the equivalent of like $8 American per person. Crazy.

Thursday I also had plans to meet up with my friend Andy. I’ve known her for ages, and she’s spending the year in Morocco. I went to her school to meet her before lunch, but I didn’t know exactly where to find her. I was going down the stairs to check out another room, when I run into her (almost literally) coming up the stairs. Much screaming occurs… and the secretary or someone comes over to shush us. But it was nuts, seeing someone from home thousands of miles away on a different continent. I’ve obviously had contact with people from home while I’ve been here, but I had yet to spend time with someone who’s from Syracuse. So it was much needed.


Yayyy friends

We all got pizza, then Andy went back to class. My friends and I got henna, went and visited a garden, and spent more time walking along the coast. We ran into some Australian girls who were completely lost (they were pretty far away from Australia, har har har...) and we spent about 20 minutes walking with them.

After that… we met up with Andy again and went to an unfinished mosque. I have no idea what it’s called. But it was cool. We stopped by Andy’s host family’s house for a few and I met her family, then the two of us went to the German Institute.

German Institute, you ask? In Morocco? Why would two people who don’t speak a word of German go out to a German Institute at 10pm?

Well… the German Institute is pretty much the only place in the whole entire country where you can buy alcohol.

Okay, small exaggeration, but still. Moroccans aren’t big on the drinking thing. Anyway, we split a bottle of wine and talked for awhile. I then tried to speak Andy into my hotel room (because it was late and she didn’t want to wake up her host family) but then we got yelled at by the night lady. Yes, Moroccan hotels have someone up at all hours of the night, but Paris Beauvais’ don’t. Go figure. Anyway, turns out you need to present your passport before staying in the hotel, even if you’re staying with people who have already presented theirs. After a lot of hushed yelling in French/Arabic/English, Andy was kicked out. Sorry again Andge.

Link to photo albums on Facebook: one & two.