Paris, je t'aime

Third time's a charm for a lot of things.

It is only on my third visit to Paris that I have fallen in love with the city.

My theory on this is that I am living with a Parisian and doing less touristy things. I'm not pressured at all and am taking the time to get lost and truly explore the city of lights (with a map of the city's metro and bus routes in my pocket... just in case).

Woke up around 9am and got some food:

I am glad that I had at least something to eat, because we did not eat together until after 3 in the afternoon. Perrine's cousin came to visit and we all hopped on the metro to an American diner called "Breakfast in America" (just like the Supertramp song). There was a continuous line out the door to get in and eat some brunch-like things, which is very un-French.

Here is what the diner looks like:

All the servers are bi-lingual American students-- some with worst accents than others-- and they boast breakfast all day. It was delicious. And the coffee wasn't crap! I was surprised. You know how diner coffee is... Side note: French people eat hamburgers and french fries with a fork and a knife. Yeah, what? It was interesting to watch.

After a very filling meal, I parted with Sofia and the others to head out on my own on foot. I looked at a nearby map to get my bearings, and headed straight for the river. Walking along the Seine, images of Gene Kelly dancing along the banks from "An American in Paris" flashed through my head, which juxtaposed very oddly with my choice of music (a Genius playlist inspired by the song "Daylight" by Matt & Kim).

It was at this moment that I fell in love with Paris:

It was the perfect winter's day, and the Parisians were doing their own thing completely unheckled by tourists. There were children learning how to ride their bikes, couples strolling hand in hand, and groups of friends meeting by the river to enjoy the view. It was magical.

I walked around Notre Dame for a bit, then made my way to the Centre Pompidou to satiate my craving for some modern art. I got in for free, being a student and all. The building is HUGE, with many different exhibits and galleries and libraries and bookstores. I only went to the museum part, but I am definitely going back later this week to check out everything else. The giftshop has some of the coolest things in it. If I lived in France, I'd be furnishing much of my kick-ass apartment with the things made available. Alas, I am a poor American student that must tote things back to the United States when all is said and done.
Taking the metro is easier than expected, and today was the first time I did it by myself. Look at me, being all adult!!! Once I got home, I made a small salad for dinner and now I'm about to join the girls for some Ben and Jerry's ice cream and watch some chick flicks.

More on Paris tomorrow!

Lazy Days in Paris are More Awesome than Lazy Days Elsewhere

So... last night was super fun.

No, I didn't go clubbing. I stayed in with Sofia (the woman who is letting me live in her apartment... she's awesome) and three of her friends. We grabbed somewhat suspicious Chinese from the buffet place next door that was open late and sat around, talking, laughing, watching youtube videos, and singing our asses of to early 2000 pop hits until 4am.

Thus, my day today started rather late.

As in I woke up for real around 1:30 in the afternoon.

Sofia is still in the process of moving in, so she went off to pack things up from her parents' house while me, her roommate Perrine and Perrine's friend (also from Angers!) ate breakfast, which consisted of eggs, sautéed veggies, and pancakes with real maple syrup.

We ate that around 3, slowly got ready for the day, and headed out the door around 4:30 or so th an art exhibit in Montparnasse.

Public transport is awesome. We need to invest in Dayton, I've decided.

We took the bus from Pont d'Orleans (our apartment) to Montparnasse, where we cut through the cemetary to get to the art gallery. Seriously, I love that place, and discovered new things while just zipping through (like an ornate headstone with 4 names and no one burried there because the entire family was exterminiated in Auschwitz in 1942, as well as awesome new sculptures and the final resting place of one Samuel Beckett). Anyways, once we reached the other side, the gallery was not far at all.

The exhibition was the photography of David Goldblatt. A resident of Johannesburg, his photographs reflect the sociology of South Africa from 1948 to 2010. In case you're not up on your global history, that includes a LOT of Apartheid and related, continuing racism.

This exhibition was sublime. It was so difficult to walk through and read about, but the photography was so excellent and the people so beautiful... it was impossible to look away. Partitioned into two galleries, the first was images of Apartheid through its various stages; the second was portraits of ex-convicts at the sight where they had committed their crimes, as well as their stories.

I only have pictures from the first section because the portraits would not be complete without their stories and I do not want to recount those. They are all so sad. But they definitely demonstrate the link between environment and personality. It was fantastic.

This is the primary image of the exhibition:

I do not know who these people are or what their history is, but their faces speak volumes upon volumes about what life as underprivelaged, segregated members of society is like.

The second image is of children playing in a segregated section of the town (for blacks only) that was soon destroyed:

This image haunts me and I'm not quite sure why. Perhaps it is the fact that they are physically harming another child for amusement as a group, perhaps it is because the white children are so distant and only stopped to be in the picture... or perhaps it is because I worry for what became of the children playing that day after their homes were destroyed by the government.

Below is an image bridging the two galleries. It was taken in 2009:

It is an image of Zimbabwean refugees sleeping in a church after fleeing from the political unrest in thier country. I was in Zambia when this happened, and the cities along the border were recieving a large influx of Zimbaweans as well. South Africa got the worst of it. This striking image does not prepare you well enough for te second gallery, but it is important to know. And what better way to express anguish and injustice than with the sublime power of art?

After this most excellent exhibit that was so worth leaving the apartment and trudging through a rainy day for, Perrine went off to run an errand and me and her cousin caught the bus back to the apartment, making a short stop at the grocery store for dinner (cheese, half a baguette, and two plums) before chilling out.

Sofia was arranging the things she had moved in today and we hung out for a bit before me and Sofia caught the metro across the river to the Champs-Élysée to see this:

English with French subtitles starting after 10pm? HELL YEAH! My brain was jumping for joy. Plus, I love this movie and it was so worth sharing the experience with Sofia and her friend that I hadn't yet met.

Oh, and a note about French cinemas: the seats are super comfortable, but there are no cup holders; there are even more advertisements and trailers before the show than in the States, and they're mixed together... which is super confusing; you can buy a discount card for 20 euros a month and get all sorts of cheap prices, as well as get your guests to the cinema discounts (Sofia has one, so I only paid 4 euros for my movie ticket!); the etiquette is very different amongst French audiences-- for example, they would never EVER consider applauding after a film if they liked it.

I now have a giant list of French films that I must watch.

Tomorrow, I might venture out again... but regardless it's going to be a Lazy Sunday.

Existential Moments in Paris

I love cemeteries. I know this sounds absolutely morbid, but I promise it is not. They are beautiful places of self reflection, as well as homage to the lives of many. Cimetière de Montparnasse was the first place I found myself after lunch. It was the first thing I saw in Paris after getting off the train. I had no idea what a goldmine of awesome and deep thoughts were awaiting me.

This is how it went down:

Hmmm... I'm going to be arriving by train 6 hours before my friend Sofia can meet up with me. Google Maps, what is there around the train station that I can get to by foot? Cimetière... sounds awesome. Let's do it!

Little did I know what wonderful things were awaiting me!!!

Cemeteries in France are not like cemeteries anywhere else. The combination of history and culture and sculpture is fantastic. Walking through the cemetery today, I saw Catholic tombs, Jewish tombs, Chinese tombs, Muslim tombs, and many other nationalities burried side by side. The only requirement for most cemeteries here is being rich, especially in city... burried next to famous people. Interdespersed among the regular graves are little mini-mosoleums (spelling?). These are gorgeous monuments to life, with stained glass windows. Observe:

You can definitely tell who has the money and who doesn't when meandering through these places. Cemeteries here are a great place to find magnificent art. On the left is a take on a Rodin sculpture (ooh and aaah, it's okay), and on the right is a magnificent, tragic hommage to a fallen young man who sacrificed his life in the trenches of World War I:

The one below really REALLY spoke to me. It's a tomb with no name anywhere, but the sculpture is that of Orpheus turning back just at the entrance to Hades and losing his beloved Euridyce forever:

It makes me wonder who is resting here, what their life was like, and how they wanted the sculpure to speak to those who would come to visit the place in the future.

I wonder what I will put on my grave (if I have one) as a last tribute to who I was?

Some people really took the personal expression aspect of their tomb rather seriously, which is something that fills me with joy and makes the cemeteries so wonderful to walk around in. Here are two that really spoke to me.

The first was on a Jewish woman's grave:

This absolutely vulnerable position is so sublime and haunts you for the rest of your tour amongst the graves. Truly amazing.

This next one... I think it's a dissection of a bone... caught my eye immediately:

The inscription reads: Of our smile, guard the memory. Smile for us! So beautiful. Right behind it, on another tomb, is a marker that states: Live now through winter, through moments, through spring. Sculpture is not the only form of art that those who have died have chosen to leave behind.

All of this beauty was not the only thing that made this soujourn amongst the no longer with us absolutely magical. At the entrance of every large cemetery in France is a map, with the list and locations of all the famous people burried there marked out so eager visitors can find them more easily. I naturally went by this and found... SIMONE DE BEAUVOIR AND JEAN-PAUL SARTRE listed amongst the famous!!!

The joy that welled up in my soul cannot be expressed in any written manner. Once I get home, you can ask me for an interperative dance so you get the full experience of my feelings at that moment.

I ran out of the cemetery to the flower shop on the corner (note: ingenious marketing strategy) and purchased a half a dozen roses to pay my respects. Here is what the tomb of idols looks like:

Notice my lovely roses at the bottom. I also noticed that some people had payed the ultimate resepect Oscar-Wilde-gravesite style; leaving a kiss. So I DID!!!

Here's the proof:

My lips can be seen over the "I" in SIMONE (that pretty raspberry color). I have paid the ultimate respect to two of the most wonderful philosophers of the modern age. Appreication is well waranted, and I have left my mark.

More on Paris to come! I am spending a whole 9 more days here, so expect adventures.

French Euphoria

There is no other way to describe it.

It is the overwhelming sensation of pure joy that could strike at any moment. And it goes something like this:

Minding my own business, minding my own business...

HOLY CRAP! I'M IN FRANCE!!!

Everything is more delicious, spring comes faster, the buidings are prettier, the history is richer, philosophers are appreciated by the general population, and the arts are not in danger.

Sometimes, this strikes when I am walking to the grocery store. It may strike while I am sitting in class. Usually, it strikes when I am in sight of one of the fanastic architecture that this beautiful city has to offer. The other day, it struck when I spotted several cherry trees in full bloom. No telling when or how it will strike, but the euphoria is inevitable. It reminds me that there is more to being here than my studies.

I felt it very frequently this afternoon when hanging out in the Musée des Beaux-Arts with Trey, and then walking around downtown after the museum closed. It struck me the strongest when I saw this:

It was just perfect and the smell of spring's first flowers was filling the air. I want to explore the city more, and I will. The euphoria is not going to end any time soon. After 2 months, it's still going strong.

I hope to share all my adventures from this upcoming week in Paris with you! Stay tuned for some crazy adventures... if I'm lucky.

How to Write a French Essay and Not Die

Apologies for not writing for the past few days! Here is my excuse.

My first French paper was due yesterday: a "commentaire composé", which is french for, "Difficult and complicated as hell! We'd wish you good luck, but that might give you false hope."

Alas, something else made it so much worse: the mandatory analysis of a passage of Montaigne.

If you are ever completely ovewhelmed by what you have to do for an assignment-- especially if it is in a foreign language-- you may find it helpful to follow these steps:

1) Plan ahead

As soon as you recieve the assignment, read and re-read the requirements. Know exactly what is demanded of you. Have any questions? Phone a friend who is not as lost as you are. The first key to success is understanding the assignment, which is almost as important as understanding the material... which brings us to point two.

2) Work ahead: form an outline

Writing your preliminary thoughts down and then organising them in a way that makes sense for the paper really helps you out when it comes to actually writing it.

3) Work ahead: ask the prof

Whether or not you are in doubt about the paper or have content problems, email your professor your preliminary ideas at least a week before the paper is due. This step is one of the most important!!! Do not forget this step, especially when working in a foreign language. It reassures you that you are on the right track and lets your professor know how dedicated you are. No matter what the response is, it can only help you get a better grade.

4) Digestion

Leave enough time to not direcly work on the paper for a few days. Let your subconcious do some of the work for you. This really helps you see fresh ideas you can use when you return to the text again.

5) Alow enough time to write the damn thing

I attempted this step by blocking out plenty of time the three days before the paper was due. Did it work? Nope. Not at all. I wrote the thing the night before. Needless to say, it was not my best work, but I gave it all my feeble, tired brain could manage. If this is where you're at, skip directly to step 7.

6) Use all your resources.

In foreign language scenarios, wordreference.com is your best friend. The End. Also, having a loving host family helps immensely. They have offered to read over all of my papers in order to stamp out anglicisms and correct all my grammar. I took advantage of this for the first page of my paper the night before... but it would have been better it all of my paper had been done.

7) Pray for a miracle.

Even if you are confident in your paper, this step is always worth it. And when a miracle happens, it is always welcome. In my case, I got a miracle yesterday. The prof gave us until the class after the break to hand in our work. Heaven openned up before me and my fellow exchange students, giving us an opportunity to perfect our pieces of crap papers. Quelle chance!

This is how to survive the experience of writing a French essay. Always remember that there is a very rigid structure that you must follow for every paper, and do not be afraid to use your bilingual nature to your advantage. 9.5 times out of 10, people will be easier on you because you have to try harder to live up to the standards of the native French students.

STRASBOURG!!! Day 4

So... I didn't post yesterday, but that is because I didn't make it home until 11pm and a 5 hour train ride really takes a lot out of you.

Here's how my day went yesterday:

Woke up relatively early, had a delicious breakfast, took a shower, got dressed, and bundled up in a borrowed windbreaker, and ventured forth into the rainy morning on a borrowed bike with Oriane and her parents.

Side note about windbreakers: they make everybody look like a dork, but they are magic. I must invest in one soon, and preferably one that is not twice my size.

This said borrowed bike was a cross terrain, yellow contraption with slightly flat tires and only one working break (the rear break line was disconnected from the break mechanism itself). I'll admit it was mildly dangerous, but the bike ride was wonderful and refreshing and I got to see all of Strasbourg via the bike path.

First stop was l'Orangerie, which is a gorgeous park with lots of gardens and a little mini-zoo. The lemurs were hiding indoors, which made me sad, but the rest of the animals were very beautiful and entertaining.

From the mini-zoo section, we biked through more gardens up to the European Parliament building.

Here is an artistic shot of it:

This lovely modern sculpture is supposed to be the symbol of Europe, but I think of it as a more intimate, erotic piece, personally. How is it a symbol for Europe when there is clearly a universal principle here, as well as being strikingly sensual (which is rather out of place as far as government policies are concerned). Oriane agrees with me on this point. It's still a lovely piece, but not one that represents a governmental body.

Getting home from the cold, wet, treacherous bike ride was a relief, and lunch was very welcome and delicious. All afternoon, we hung out in the living room, watching French TV (which mostly consisted of dubbed-over episodes of Dr. House and Monk).

When it came time for me to leave, I presented the bottle of wine I had purchased as a present, and received one in return. Mr. Kopp and Oriane walked me to the train station and saw me off. It was very sad leaving them, and I need to go visit again... maybe in the spring when it is not as cold.

To sum up: the Kopps are really nice people, Strasbourg is amazing and you should go visit, first vacation in France was a great success

STRASBOURG!!! Day 3

Today started with a lazy morning, which suited me just fine.

French breakfasts are the best thing ever: fresh baked baguette with nutella or jam and delicious, fresh coffee. It's not what I typically have, but I'm on vacation! Over breakfast, I talked with Adrien, Oriane's younger brother, who will be studying in the USA next year. After getting ready for the day, Mrs. Kopp and I waked the dog, then went to the grocery store, where she brought vegetarian steaks for me and fig jam (we don't have that in Ohio, and she noticed how much I liked it... did I mention the Kopps are super nice?!).

After lunch, we hung around watching TV for a bit. Around 2 in the afternoon, we drove to Pont de Deux Rives, which is a bridge that spans the river Rhine.

This is a picture of me, Eloise (Oriane's younger sister), and Mrs. Kopp on the bridge in between France and Germany:

That's right: I've been to Germany!... and walked around in it for a grand total of 15 minutes before heading back to the French side. What can I say? I'm biased.

After that, we went shopping for a bit in some smaller Alsace towns. I adore this part of the country! It's a mixture of French and German architecture and food, and all of the houses are super fun colors. The countryside we went driving though is absolutely beautiful as well.

In the evening, Oriane, Adiren, his girlfriend, and myself all went to an awesome Japanese restaurant. This place has a giant conveyor belt of food snaking through the entire room, and you grab whatever dish looks appetizing off of it. Each color plate is a different price, and that's how they figure out your bill. It was absolutely delicious!!!

Afterwards, we went and had cocktails, which were strong and delicious. It was another wonderful day on vacation, for sure. Tomorrow is my last day in Strasbourg, and Oriane and I are planning on visiting the Orangerie, because everything in France is closed on Sundays except the parks. I will let you know how that goes.

Finishing note: Here are some pictures that Oriane took of me yesterday to prove that I was "actually there".

Here is the top of the cathedral:

Here is what Petite France looks like:

More on my final day of vacation tomorrow!

STRASBOURG!!! Day 2

First full day in Strasbourg = great success!!!

Woke up to an amazing breakfast and fresh coffee, then went to class with Oriane. It was an English class with a Canadian professor, and it was actually super fun. It's cool to see how other universities in France work, and got to watch a clip of "Death Proof", as well as observe mock speed dating. My morning was pretty sweet.

Then lunch, which was made by Oriane's mom.... and it was delicious. Who knew that pasta with tomato sauce could taste so good?!

In the afternoon, Oriane and I went walking all around Strasbourg. Like the vast majorities of cities in France, walking around is the best way to get acquainted with things, and everything is close enough together that you can do a whole turn of the downtown in less than an hour. First stop was Notre Dame de Strasbourg. It's absolutely beautiful, and I believe I mentioned it in yesterday's post, as we went inside for a bit. Well, today we busted the bank and paid 2 euro 50 each to climb up some treacherously deep, narrow, winding steps all the way to the landing of the cathedral, which is 66 meters (or 216.5 feet) high. The view of the city was absolutely spectacular, even with all the fog:

I really love this city so much. The melange of French and German influence is visible everywhere, and its inhabitants are extremely friendly. Also, they just finished filming a scene from Sherlock Holmes 2 in the cathedral the day before I arrived... that's right: I missed seeing Robert Downey, Jr. and Rachel McAdams doing their thing by one day. Oh, well.

On the way down the treacherous spiral stairs, there are some very amazing views as well. I snapped one of the cathedral's amazing architecture just for you:

The lower we went, the stronger the strands of music became that had begun floating up to us when we begin the descent downward towards the ground again. It was a beautiful falsetto voice, accompanied by a mandolin, singing ballads in Old French. Returning to the front of the cathedral, Oriane and I saw the street performer, dressed like a mideval troubadour strumming is well-worn and well-loved mandolin, using the bells strapped around his ankles as percussion. Yes, it was even more magical than it sounds.

After our adventure at the cathedral, Oraine and I ventured along the river L'Ill into a section of the city called "Petit France". It was absolutely gorgeous.

Observe:

We meandered about some more, talking and enjoying the sites, and attempted to visit Oriane's dad at work, but he was super busy and that fell through. On the way home, I picked up an orchid plant as a thank you to the family because the Kopps feed me and let me sleep here free of charge and have been nothing but super nice. I also picked up a nice bottle of Merlot from Bordeaux for them... but that's a surprise for Sunday as a parting present.

Afternoon coffee was delightful, and when Mr. Kopp came home, we all ventured back to Petit France and ate out at a little Thai restaurant. Best. Meal. Ever. Oh, it was so delicious!!! I devoured my vegetable dish while having wonderful conversation with Oriane and her parents. I truly surprised myself with how much my French has improved in the month and a half I have been in France. Practice makes perfect, I guess.

After dinner, we slowly meandered back to the apartment. Strasbourg is just as beautiful at night! Everything takes on a different hue, and window shopping becomes more fun.

Getting back to the apartment meant dessert, which consisted of ice cream (which was, of course, superb) and chilling out together and watching evening programs.

Today has been a most excellent day, and tomorrow's adventures will consist of venturing into Germany... perhaps. Oh, and Oriane forced me to pose for her, so there should be a few pictures of me in Strasbourg eeking onto the pages of my blog before the weekend is over.

STRASBOURG!!! Day 1

Improptu vacations are the best.
This week, all the French students I have classes with are doing internships (thus no classes), so I decided to take the opportunity to travel. Where else to go but Strasbourg to visit my lovely friend and former host sister Oriane Kopp?! The train ride is only 5 hours and picnics in Germany are possible from here. Plus, I've heard nothing but good things about how beautiful the city is.

So I got up early, got lost on the way to the train station (a very kind deaf individual helped me find it), and spent the entire ride doing homework, attempting to ignore the growing pangs of hunger in my stomach. Oriane met me at the station, and we walked to her appartment. Before her afternoon class, she made me an omelet to fight the oppressive hunger and walked around the downtown a bit. It was absolutely gorgeous!!! I cannot wait to explore it some more this weekend :)

L'Ill is the river that runs through the center of the city. I must have brought the cloud cover with me from Angers, but here are some shots of the city from the bridge:

I am going to love it here, I can tell.

We meandered into the cathedral for a bit (which is FANTASTIC!!! pics later) and will be exploring it more thoroughly tomorrow. Then Oriane showed me around the campus of the University of Strasbourg. It is much bigger than the campus in Angers, and the buildings are more modern. Funny thing happened there yesterday: right outside le Patio (pronounced as passio)-- which is where Oriane has most of her classes-- construction workers found 3 undetonated aerial bombs from World War 2. They had to cancel classes while the shells were removed.

I met several of Oriane's friends and went with her to her afternoon class. By the time that was over, we were both starving, so we rushed home and dug into the tarte aux pommes and cupcakes that Oriane's mom had made for us in honor of my visit. They were absolutely delicious!

The apartment is lovely, with a sun room terrace on the second floor.

This is the den:

And this is a view from the front door:

There was much drama over getting to internet to work on my jenk-ass Tangent, but I obviously succeeded.

Dinner was also super-duper delicious, and tomorrow Oriane is going to take me exploring!!! I will be sure to take lots of pics and post them here. It's going to be nothing but Strasbourg for the next few posts, so if you don't like it, deal with it.

Storming the Castle

I promised a happy post today, so here it goes!!!
The first Sunday of every month is free museum day in France, and my friend Trey invited me to explore the château with him. Because I love the place (this would be my 3rd time exploring it) and it was free and there were friends, I decided to venture forth.And a good thing, too. It was a gorgeous day, and I met two new friends! Hooray!

This is the mideval castle by the river I have been boasting about. It is only 20 minutes by foot from my house, and downtown is not even a stone's throw away... 30 seconds tops.
I don't think the pictures do the fortress justice, but it is immense and rather intimidating. Its foundations are a Roman fortress, chosen for its strategic defensive location and the massive amount of avaliable building material... and it worked. It has never been taken by an invading force in history, many invading armies simply giving it up.

Here is a shot of the exterior of the château:

Yeah, it's quite formidable. That wall on the right is at least a 50 foot drop, so that should give you a concept of how huge this thing is. Its outer ramparts as they are were constructed in the 13th century when the powerful Phlip II conquered the area and was like, "my gradson deserves a castle all to himself".

It was later remodeled by Cathrine de Medici, then her son Henry III tore a lot of it down to construct the downtown area of Angers (those cobbled streets still exist!) while maintaining the protective nature of the fortress.

Since that time, it has been a military academy, prison, garrison, and Nazi munition storage dump. Now it is a beautiful place to hang out on a Sunday and houses the oldest and largest collection of mideval tapestries in the world.

This is where you enter:

The experience is truly magnificent! Makes you feel like royalty, really.

Once inside, you buy a ticket (or they just hand you one), pick up brochures, and go through a really narrow old door into the courtyard of the château:

Topiaries and calm walkways abound! In the background is the chapel with all of the façades and sculptures descemated. They were removed before being used to house prisoners. No one wants to break up a fight where an angry prisoner is using the stone arm of a desciple as a weapon. Not many pictures were taken in there because it is depressing and empty, but the courtyard is super cool. Lots of gravel... ever notice that all the palace courtyards seem to have gravel no mater where you go? Trey says it's a very common, inexpensive material and that is the reason, but I disagree: with gravel, you can always hear an assassin coming.

There are pathways and gardens at the top of the batiments. You can traverse the circumference of the château that way. Honestly, that's my favorite but about the whole mideval castle experience. The tallest turet has an amazing view of Angers!

My side of the river Maine:

The other side of the river Maine that I have yet to explore, but is home to the oldest hospital in Europe and an amazing modern tapestry museum:

The castle grounds:

Pretty nifty, huh? The main tapestry on display is one commissioned by Louis I, who used to live in the castle. It's truly magnificent!!! Not only is the tapestry absolutely gargantuin, but the story of Revelations is desplayed in picture-perfect detail, with everything in either threes or sevens or twelves. The symbolism and accuracy within the Apocalypse Tapestry is a marvel in itself, never mind that it took over 20 years to make.

This wonder of the middle ages is not the only piece of artwork on desplay in the château. This lovely modern art piece is on desplay in a small room at the base of one of the turets:

That's right: those are people and chains. When the castle was used as a prison, they would sometimes cram up to 60 prisoners into that small space. This work is beautiful and haunting, truly capturing the spirit of the anguish that must have been felt within that room. There are 60 hands within the piece, and it is constructed of very thin metal wire, giving it that spiritual, ghostly quality. I adore this work of art and what it shares. The history of prisoners and their suffering are often forgotten by the world at large.

That's the castle by the river!!!

I know you wanna come visit me now... seriously, pictures don't do it justice.

Tomorrow... STRASBOURG!!!

DREAM PROJECT: Who wants in?

I live in a very quiet, safe neighborhood only a few minutes away from everything I could ever want or need in Angers. The city itself is very friendly and beautiful with plenty of history and nooks yet to be explored. The tram system is almost done, which will make transportation all the easier, and the train station is a 20 minute walk from my front door, hence access to the rest of Europe. I can't witness to it, but I have heard that in the spring, there are nothing but flowers everywhere. This region is known for its beauty and kindness.

Can you tell I'm selling it up?

Here's why:

A few blocks from my host family's house, on a narrow street named Rue Blaise Pascal, are two beautiful homes. Both of them qualify as mansions by French standards, and are absolutely magnificent. The one is unfortunately inhabited, but it looks like a Disney palace. It was definitely influenced by the Renaissance architectural style of the châteaux in the surrounding Loire valley:

Isn't it just spectacular?!

It's neighbor has just as much garden space and has more floor space and is located on the corner of the street. The style of this mansion evokes the 19th century Haussmann movement (equivalent to England's Victorian Era). With 4 stories and a few balconies, this little castle of a house has so much potential:

Unfortunately, it has been severely neglected. This house has been on the market for about a decade now. Its windows are all shuttered up, its gate is rusting, the grand garden is overgrown with weeds, many panes of glass are shattered, and I'm sure the inside of the house needs just as much-- if not more-- work. Every time I pass this magnificent shadow (and it's on the way home from the grocery store and bakery, so I pass it about twice a week) all I see is potential. I'm filled with the urge to make the property beautiful again and breathe life into its derilict form.

So, who wants to join me in my noble pursuit? There's room enough to house at least 7 people without doubling up on rooms, and it's in a lovely neighborhood in western France. Enough said.

I know I should spend less time thinking about what color curtains would go in each room and whether or not it has hardwood floors and more time focusing on my studies, but what can I say? I'm a dreamer, and I just found my dream project.

Tune in tomorrow for another post. Not sure what it will be, but I'll try to make it amusing.

How to Survive a Long-Distance Breakup

I felt like this was a very appropriate topic for Singles Awareness Day.

Here is a survival guide should you ever be on either end of a long-distance breakup.

Relationships are hard, we know that, and differences in space and time really put a strain on any couple. Needless to say, some do not survive. If you are ever on the unfortunate losing end of that situation, here is a helpful list of things to do:

1) Never let them see you cry.

--Sound tough? It is. Every second of every day, you want to burst into tears. DON'T DO IT. Public stoicism is the best answer in this scenario. It is hard to bond with new friends when your face looks like a red, swelled-up punchingbag, and spontaneous tears need explanations for all of those around you, and the last thing you want to do is figure out how to tell your host family in French that your boyfriend broke up with you. That being said, step 2 is a must.

2) Set aside private time to grieve.

--This step is VERY important. It hurts, and you can't hold all of that inside of you, especially when it feels like this:

It's not healthy. Make time to let all the anguish out. A good bit of wallowing must occur before any process of recovery can be made.

3) Comfort object

--Having a comfort object greatly aids in the process of recovery. Something preferably cuddly and nonjudgmental is best. The comfort object is there to aid you in maintaining public stoicism, and also to help you release in private times of grieving. This was my comfort object:

His name is Poupousse, and he has magic healing powers. He can tell exactly when my stoicism is about to crack or when I just need a hug, and curls up in my lap and refuses to move until I do. Blankets, stuffed animals, cats, and lap dogs all make good comfort objects. If none of these things appeal to you as a comfort object, you are on your own. Computers and websites will not work as comfort objects because avoidance doesn't solve the problem, it just shelves all the angry emotions away until it overflows into a mess of despair. The mindvice can only crush so much.

4) Choose music selection very carefully

--Happy songs or angry songs are prefered, never songs that will make you weep unless it is in your private grieving time. Damien Rice, Feist, Bon Iver, Iron and Wine, and any other lovely love artists are to be avoided. Stick with things more robust or upbeat, like Ra Ra Riot, Passion Pit, Andrew Bird, and some selections of Sufjan Stevens. Pick and choose carefully what you want to listen to, especially when meandering down the streets of France.

5) Remember to breathe and still live life to the fullest every day

--This last step is crucial. Long-distance breakups provide a great opportunity for a clean break. Said ex does not haunt the same places you do, and communication being cut off becomes much easier. Whether abroad or at home when being broken up with in a long distance way, life is still around you and it is beautiful, so sally forth and indulge in some chocolate crêpes for once. You deserve it.

Now that the survival guide is finished, some multi-cultural notes on Valentine's Day.

It's much less of a big deal over here, which makes it much less gimmecky. I have seen no advertisements clouded in hearts and obtrusive naked cherubs. Not even a billboard. The only sign that it was still going on over here was the front page of the Angers newspaper, which had a lovely picture of an engaged couple underneath a heart sculpture. That's about it. Oh, and facebook, but that's unavoidable. Found Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind (in French, of course, but I must keep the tradition alive). Anyways, happier post tomorrow, I promise.

Trample the Weak, Hurdle the Dead: RUGBY

I've always enjoyed watching sports, no matter what the outcome. While in France, I've been introduced to 2 new sports practically unknown in the States: Handball and Rugby.

Handball was an interesting experience, but Rugby...

I had seen bits and pieces of the recent matches between Scotland and England and Scotland and Wales, but today was my first full-game experience. And it was awesome.

For those of you who are not in the know, Rugby is similar to American football, but there is no padding, the ball is bigger, and you are only allowed to pass backwards and kick forwards. Also, scrums are scary. Scratch that-- the whole game is slightly scary. Lots of hitting and tackling and hurling and trampling involved. Observe:

And below is an aforementioned scrum:

This game was extremely intense, and France ended up beating Ireland in their own stadium 25 to 22. It was really difficult to tell who was going to win until the very end, and both teams played admirably and suffered many broken noses and cuts and bruises.

Despite all the on-field violence, opposing fans are downright friendly with one another, as are the opposing players. Having so much agression concentrated on the field of play must aid in relieving the animosity everywhere else. That is just a theory. It has yet to be tested.

This is my first real experience with the game of Rugby, and it has converted me into a fan.

GO BLUE!!! (France, not Michigan)

ps: I think one of the reasons France won is because we have this guy:

His presence on the field is accompanied by boos from the fans of the opposing team. Why? Because there is no defeating Sebastian Chaval.

Update:

In other news, I am feeling much less sicky-icky and have a Valentine's Day special planned for all of you lovely people tomorrow.

La haine

Today is an off day for me. Been feeling sicky-icky in the nose/sinus area and the rain this morning halted all subsequent activities (even though it's gorgeous out now... effff).

Moving on...

Today I'm going to talk to you about something I found absolutely shocking when I got here and the more I learn about the phenomenon, the more upset I get: there are extremely conservative political parties in France.

This might sound silly, but my impression of Europe was one of being more liberal. In general, it is, but there are some political parties filled with "la haine" (hate) and intolerance.

These political parties are called the National Front and the Movement for France.

I did not know that they existed, but they are infamous for a common slogan:

"France pour les Français" France for the French

Movements like this exist in the United States (which is super ironic when you think about it) so it's not a big reveal of nativité on my part... I just didn't think I would find that here.

And, like at home, it manifests itself physically:

When I first got here, this was a lovely mural with passages from the Inernational Declaration of Human Rights. About 2 weeks ago, it became what you see above. The passages have been blotted out-- as have the faces of the darker-skinned individuals-- and the slogan of peace, unity, and exceptance that was at the bottom of the mural has been replaced by "France pour les Français". I just don't get it.

I suppose my main motivation for sharing this with you is to give you a better idea of how multifaceted this experience is turning out to be. I did not expect to find racism here. Unfortunately, I fear it is an international phenomenon.

Flight of the Conchords , "Foux Da Fa Fa"

Being Bilingual feat. Flight of the Conchords

So, today I gave my first oral presentation in Frace in front of a room filled to capacity with native speakers. Needless to say, it was nerve-wracking. However, I knew the material well and the professor (who's super nice) told me that I had done an excellent job! When I told my host mother, she beamed with pride and only corrected my speach once in the insuing conversations. This is an example of a linguistically good day.

Wednesday, I went to my 9h45 am course on Montaigne that's going to eat my soul. I have been doing a written analysis of every chapter like he asks us to, and I'm pretty sure I'm the only one in the class that's done it every single time. I get props for that, but there's a problem when the prof hands you back your paper and is all like, "Yeah, there are a lot of errors here. Why don't you just give me 10 perfect sentences next time?" Gah! I understand the material, but written expression wasn't being good to me. This is an examle of a linguistically mediocre day.

From here, it can go two ways: you can buck up, make a note to do better next time, and continue being French, continuing the mediocre day-- possibly making it into a good day; or you can completely succumb to your failure and have a small breakdown, constantly doubting yourself in French for the rest of the day, inevitably leading to more errors, which turns this into a linguisically bad day.

Some days, you may wake up and your brain refuses to switch to French. You spend the entirity of a 3 hour class doodling and pondering your existence because your feble mind refuses to function in foreign. This only gets worse throughout the day. By dinnertime, all communication with your host family is pointless because you can't even remember the word for something as simple as "spoon", let alone construct coherent sentences. When some unwitting person even attempts a conversation in French, a deer in the headlights look is all you can manage, and perhaps an accompanying shake of the head. At this point, hand gestures are all you have. This is a linguisically terrible day.

My first days here can be categorized as linguistically terrible. The rest have been a melange of bad, good, and mediochre. How can you prepare yourself mentally? You can't. It just happens. However, carrying around a phrasebook and pocket dictionary may aid in confidence-boosting and provide a resource when you need it.

Linguistically bad and terrible days go something like the Flight of the Conchords video posted separately. It makes absolutely no sense, and all you can really remember are random vocab that may not even be correct. I highly recommend watching it, as it only takes up 2.5 minutes of your time.

To sum up: being immersed in a second language is not easy, but being prepared for the linguistically bad days definitely helps

This post is dedicated to Tina Manco

Guillaume

Every Thursday, I look forward to my History of Art class-- despite the fact that it lasts three hours-- because I love modern art. Although I have a very strong love-hate relationship with one particular classmate. His name is Guillaume. And he just doesn't get it.

This is my magnificent rendition of Guillaume:

I do not know of he smokes, but he probably does. Notice the ever-present scarf, purposefully messy, longer hair, the square glasses, and the ironic smirk. These are all key factors in truly understanding the phenomenon that is Guillaume.

I would be tempted to describe him as a "hater". Each class, he insists that there is no point to modern art. He insists that great works of art need no explination and they should be about depicting reality and should be about both objectification and personal skill.

Okay, Guillaume. Here's a test. Take this Pollock:

Then take this da Vinci:

Now, which one is more realistic?! Answer: neither. Neither one of these images is realistic at all. Guillaume loves the second, but despises the first. If you were from a different planet, which one would you understand better?

With the Pollock, the viwer is immersed in the painting and the colors evoke a palpable emotion.

With the da Vinci, there's a giant-ass swan... and naked, lots of naked. And some other things. It is all very beautiful, but what does it mean?!

Without the knowledge of Greek mythology, the second painting makes no sense. And without the knowledge of the "all over" technique or the concept of action painting, the first painting wouldn't make any sense. Art needs explination. And the PURPOSE of art is subjective expression. Duh, Guillaume!

Where is the objectivity in either one of these? He just doesn't get it.

Go study math or something, really.

He's all about hyperréalisme, which is really cool, but a bit too close to photography for me. Here's an example of what Guillaume adores (I know because he did a half-hour presentation on it today):

Yes, the above image is a painting. I can appreciate the amazing technique and the desire to submerge the viewer into the space. But don't hate on abstract expression.

Another thing that bugs me about Guillaume is he insists that classic art is permanent. No, Guillaume, everything on this good earth is ephemeral. And it is only with the Renaissance, and only with European art, that you get a since of permanence. All things pass. Ephemerality is what makes things beautiful. Get existential, Guillaume, and STOP HATING!!!

He's seriously in the wrong class.

Time to stop hating on the hater :)

On a happier note, students from the university art department posted some of their work today and I took pictures of the ones that really struck me this morning:

Tah-dah! Hooray for artsy posts!

Not sure what's on the agenda for tomorrow, but I'll try to make it interesting.