Photos!!

Well, I finally got my act together enough to put some photos up for you all to get a glimpse of where I've been living and what I've been up to. Just scroll down to the bottom of the page.

I know these are pretty limited, but I will be glad to share many more either a) when I get home or b) when I figure out a better system for posting photos ... whichever happens first!

P.S. Photos are courtesy of Adriana and Sofia

Getting ready to say good-bye

Well, I can't exactly say France has made me a new person. But I'm doing things I never thought I'd do, and saying things I never thought I'd say. I ate a snail (but only because a cute French boy made me) and I finally admitted (as much to myself as to anyone) that I want to postpone a journalism career for more European adventures. So something has definitely changed.

I sincerely apologize to any of you who have been checking my blog for new posts. The weeks since I got back from Scotland have been tough, mostly because of exams. There have also been a lot of going-away parties. The international students in Lille are leaving in droves. Everyone I've said good-bye to has said more or less the same thing; that this is an experience they will never, ever forget. Some were thrilled to leave France, others in tears. As for me, when I look around, all I can think is my heart is going to ache when I leave this place.

But hopefully I'll be coming back! I'm applying for a variety of different jobs so I can spend more time in France. I want to keep working on my French (which has already improved a lot) and continue my European adventures. I'm not done with France yet, and honestly I don't think it's done with me, either. I thought I was pretty smart, then I realized I'm only smart in one language. I thought I knew what I wanted to do with my life, then I was given some new options.

I have finally finished all my exams and I'm expecting to be in France for another month or so. I'm hunting around for a job here either teaching English or perhaps working as an au pair. I'm planning to spend at least the summer in Arizona because a) I have to return to the States to apply for a work visa anyway and b) I can't afford to stay here much longer. Then there's the very important c) I miss my friends and family terribly.

There are other things I've stopped missing, like Starbucks and the convenience of being in an English-speaking country. I like that communicating is a challenge. I've also grown to like things I couldn't stand when I got here, like the bise (the double kiss for hellos and good-byes). Some things -- like the hierarchical, disorganized nature of my university -- still bother me. But really, it's just given me a new respect for Americans. I used to criticize ASU for being beaureaucratic and treating students like numbers. Now I appreciate how effeciently they handle 60,000 students. Above all else, I've learned a lot about what it means to be an American. But that's a whole other blog entry.

I will keep you all posted on the job search, and other adventures I'm bound to have before I leave. I want to thank all of you who have read my blog and given me feedback ... writing this has kept me connected to home and helped me to put this experience in perspective. I've realized how lucky I am to be here, and how lucky I am to have so many great people who care about me -- even when I am so far away.

Update from Edinburgh

I'm sorry it's been so long since I've written anything ... I've been largely bogged down with exams and travel planning. My mom came to Lille for a week, and now I am in the middle of a two-week Spring vacation. The first week was spent in Edinburgh, Scotland (Which is where I am now - in fact I'm at the cafe where J.K. Rowling is supposed to have written parts of Harry Potter.)

Being in Scotland has made me think I am going to fall in love with a handsome Scotsman and end up having a wedding with kilts and bagpipes. But it's not so much a fantasy as a premonition. But don't worry, no specific Scot has swept me off my feet ... yet.

The second week I'll be headed "home" to France to pause, reflect and figure out what the hell I am going to do with my immediate future. Whereas I once knew I wanted to dive into an entry-level reporting position with a daily newspaper, Europe has shaken that goal loose (without dislodging it completely). Once I had one world, now I've got two. I'll keep you all posted as things develop and decisions get made. I will tell you one thing though ... when I left for France three months ago I never imagined I'd end up here.

When life gives you sour croissants...

So far you've heard almost nothing but positive things from me about my experience here. But I'd be lying if I said I never miss home. Last night I wanted nothing more than to be able to talk to Eli, but I couldn't reach him. To build upon the frustration expressed in my last post, I got yelled at today for eating in class (and it was a croissant, no less).

In spite of my thrill at living in Europe, I miss the simplicity of being in my own culture. Then, at least, I know which end is up. I miss the people who really know me. But if I were to go home today, I think I would be in a serious state of reverse culture shock. Right now I am stuck in between two worlds, not knowing exactly where I belong. Maybe I don't really belong to either country ... I don't know. The question has grown to such a proportion that I can never get it out of my head.

I still consider myself so lucky to be here and having this experience. I am sure what I am going through now is part of the experience, but in the present it's a miserable state of being. Oddly enough there is a saying in French that always seems to help when I'm facing a daunting task ... Bon courage. It's used like "Good luck" but it means more ... like the person saying it knows you have what it takes to get the job done and is encouraging you to have faith as well.

I would venture to guess if you were here with me now, that is what you would say. I'm listening.

Relaxing ... in spite of the French

If you want to know how I am feeling right now, take a deep breath in and then breath out slowly ... ahhh. You feel a little better now, don't you?

I am starting to relax after two weeks of heavy Anglophone pressure. Oddly enough the French part of France hasn't been causing me as much stress as the courses I have in English. After the two papers due last week, I had a presentation today and an exam. I haven't gotten much sleep.

Even when the French are teaching classes in English, they have an odd approach to self-discipline when it comes to academics. It is, to me, much more like what I experienced in high school than what I am used to from ASU. You can get in trouble for not going to class, you have to ask to use the bathroom during the class and (but really you just shouldn't go at all) and you are not on equal footing with the teachers ... not at all.

Part of the reason I am breathing a huge sigh of relief is because I am not sitting through a murderously boring class right now. I should be there, but I'm not. I spent a full 15 minutes grappling with the decision of whether or not to go, because I know I "should" and the teacher will likely get mad at me if I don't. But on the other hand, I've had ten hours of sleep the last two nights and I knew I would literally be struggling to stay awake for the next two hours if I went. Ultimately, I decided that in the long run it wouldn't matter one way or the other if I went, so I may as well make myself happy in the present. The professor probably won't see it that way, though.

I've spent the last several months trying to make sense of the French perspective on these things. At ASU, I feel like the attitude is largely that if the student does not go to class, it is the student's loss. Therefore, it is ultimately the student's decision whether or not to go. That is not the case here. When students don't show up to class the professors get upset ... although I don't understand exactly why. It's also considered very bad form to get up to use the bathroom during a class, and you should ask if you want to go.

My American friend Nikki, who has been here for almost a year, says this stems from the belief that you should be adult enough to hold it through class. But my perspective, and that of many Americans I think, is, shouldn't you be adult enough to chose when and if you need to use the restroom? This is an interesting paradox because the philosophies of each culture come from an emphasis on personal maturity, but with completely different practices.

So if my professor confronts me next week about the class I missed today, which he may do, I will have to reconcile my desires to be a good foreigner and my own (firmly held) beliefs that I have the right to decide what I do with my time. Apologizing and promising not to do it again may appease him, but it would violate me. I'm beginning to see that these sorts of disagreements are the basis of all cultural tension ... because no one is really wrong; it's simply a matter of perspective.

In the trenches

It's been all quiet on the blog front lately because I have been waging a war against a whole lot of homework. Tomorrow morning I'm giving a presentation on Britain and the Middle East. Wednesday I have to turn in two 8-page papers, one on T.S. Eliot and the other on the Secret Treaty of Dover (whatever that is).

Despite the stress and worry that goes along with all this work (not to mention the near panic-attack I had when I accidentally deleted a third of my Eliot paper) I'm still happy. I'm in France. And when all this is over with, I will only enjoy it that much more.

Today it started snowing spontaneously ... the big, feathery flakes were unlike anything I'd seen before. I got a forty centime café au lait this morning and just sat and watched them fall around the spires of my castle-like university. Somehow, the sight made all my homework seem as far away as Arizona.

And now, back to work ...

Team Wiener's winter Break, Part II - I wish I were a Marseillaise

When our train crossed the border from Spain to France, I expected the change to be obvious. But then it dawned on me that the French likely wouldn't have put up a big sign that says "Bienvenue à la France" at the border. But what surprised me was that the scenery didn't change at all ... the Mediterranean was on the right and everything was green on the left. Tiny fishing villages with pastel houses clung to the coastline and vineyards dotted the landscape inland. It was unlike anything I'd seen in northern France, which reminded me that the only French cities I've really seen are Lille and Paris. Before Marseille I don't think I gave France enough credit for being fantastically varied and diverse.

We arrived at the Marseille St. Charles hilltop train station just in time to see the setting sun turn the city shades of orange and pink. The architecture, food and disposition of the people at first seemed distinctly un-French. The boxy buildings, pasta and friendly people seemed more Italian at first (Marseille, after all, was founded by the Romans). But then I remembered the French national anthem, "La Marseillaise." I didn't get a chance to discuss this with any of the locals, but knowing the French as I do I assume the people of the city for which the national anthem is named are as proudly French as any Parisian.

Our day of travel also happened to be Amy's birthday, but all we did all day was sit on a train and that's not a great way to celebrate, now is it? So when a guy in our hostel (a fellow American named Liam) invited us to go to the beach with him, we did. It was a five-minute walk from our hostel and mon dieu was it amazing. We could see all the stars and big, dark blue waves were crashing against the shore and an enormous jetty made of white rock.

We shouted happy birthday to Amy above the roar of the waves and shrieked as the sharp gravel on the beach invaded our flip-flops. It was a moment I'm sure I'll never forget. Since it was cold and windy, we went looking for a beach side restaurant where we could get a dessert in order to properly celebrate Amy's birthday. We found a place called l'Equinoxe with a big, glass-walled dining room overlooking the beach where we shared a giant bowl of sorbet and fruit and taught Liam some French.

The next day we set out to explore Marseille but didn't realize how far our hostel was from the main hub of the city -- the Old Port. We spent a good hour trekking along the Corniche John F. Kennedy (a promenade that stretches along the coast) in some very intense wind. We finally found a bus that took us to the Old Port, where we spent the rest of the day. We found a sunny café with cushy chairs where we had Camembert sandwiches and Orangina. We took a boat to a nearby rocky island where we ate ice cream and hiked the rocky cliffs for the view. The sea was beautiful, but it became even more beautiful when I remembered I was looking at the Mediterranean.

I only got a tiny glimpse of Marseille, and the Provence region, but I loved it there and now I want to go back. Marseille appealed to me in a very different way than Paris or London, although I love those cities too. I relate to those cities on a professional and cultural level, but my heart bonded with Marseille. It was like when you meet someone at a party and you just like them without necessarily knowing why.

I'd love to go back to Marseille and see more of Provence. I'd like to backpack around for at least a few weeks and see the fountains of Aix that are hundreds of years old and see Arles, the town that so inspired Van Gogh. Who's with me?