Greetings from (basically) Geneva:
(Logic tells me that this keyboard should have an exclamation mark but I just can't find it. You should at least be happy to know that I finally found the apostrophe.)
We're actually currently in France, but the nearest major city to us is Geneva, Switzerland, and it's more exciting to write from another country. Besides, we did spend most of the day in Switzerland.
Our Christmas in Sweden was wonderful. We did lots of traditional Swedish Christmas things, such as:
Open gifts on December 24
Watch the Disney Christmas Eve special
Eat multiple types of pickled herring
Eat multiple types of salmon
Drink Julmust (Christmas soda)
Drink Schnapps
Drink glugg (Christmas wine)
Drink Christmas beer (There's a Christmas variety of every kind of drink)
Eat rice porridge
Go to church at 5 am on December 25
Did I mention that said church dates back to the 12th century?
All in all a good experience. Katie commented later that she'd never before appreciated the full meaning of "Swedish fish."
On the 27th we boarded a train at 6:20 am. We spent the day on trains, actually, finally boarding a night train for Switzerland at 8:45 pm. Our compartment on this train had only chairs, no beds, and 5 occupants (all under 25). We decided to arrange ourselves as best as possible for actually sleeping some. After a few suspensful moments when we thought we might aquire a sixth occupant, Katie wound up sleeping on the floor with a German guy we'd never met before, I curled up across two seats on one side of the compartment, another girl curled up on the two seats opposite me, and the final guy stretched himself over the remaining two seats (on opposite sides of the compartment). Katie's description of these sleeping arrangements was best: we looked like a game of human pick-up-sticks. But we did get far more sleep than either of us expected when we first realized that we had no beds at all:
We are now at the home of a friend of mine from Paris. Tonight we are headed out salsa dancing. Katie wanted to learn a "useful French phrase" for the evening. The original idea was to teach her one that would be an amusing way to refuse an unsolicited advance, but somehow the phrase she ended up learning was "Salut, beau garç." (Roughly: Hey, hot stuff). I suspect this phrase will not prove particularly useful...
Tomorrow we are headed up to the Alps for an afternoon of skiing. I am very excited, yet lack the appropriate punctuation for making this sentiment clear.
Friday, December 28, 2007
Monday, December 24, 2007
Videos : A novelty
So my camera also takes low-quality videos. I haven't used that feature much because it's so much easier to just snap a picture, but I did take a couple of videos that are worth sharing.
This is a video of some of the mechanical nativity figurines for sale in the nativity market in Sevilla, narrated by Carl.
And this is the video I took of the light show in the Grand Place in Brussels. The video doesn't do it justice, of course, but it does give you an idea of what it was like.
This is a video of some of the mechanical nativity figurines for sale in the nativity market in Sevilla, narrated by Carl.
And this is the video I took of the light show in the Grand Place in Brussels. The video doesn't do it justice, of course, but it does give you an idea of what it was like.
Pictures Pictures! Read all about it!
At last, photographs!
Katie and I finally got our cameras hooked up to a computer here in Sweden. We discovered that between the two of us we have over 900 pictures from the past two and a half weeks. Needless to say, we won't be posting all of those here... If you want to see them all you'll have to come find one of us when we're safely back in the States. I had to make some painful decisions to figure out which pictures to post right now, but I think it's at least a decent overview of my travels thus far. There is at least one picture per city.
I started out in London, if you recall, visiting Angelica. Here is a picture of us posing with ancient Greek sculptures in the British Museum. I had to beg Angelica for this picture. She did not want to take a touristy picture in "her" town.
After London, I took Carl's brief tour of Cambridge. Here he is with his beloved math department! It looks like something from outer space. (Math nerds are so other-worldly...)
In Seville, Katie let me try on one of her school's flamenco dresses. So cool! Ah! Big skirts!
We weren't really allowed to take pictures in the Reina Sofia museum in Madrid (even though I did take one quick, illicit picture) so instead I took a picture of Katie in their courtyard.
Here's me rowing a boat in the middle of Madrid in December! Not exactly what I was expecting to do, but it was fun.
Ok, and here is Katie getting ready to brush her teeth on the overnight train from Madrid to Paris. Can't you see the excitement radiating from her? Ironically, she had trouble sleeping that night because she was too excited about the prospect of sleeping on a train.
Long arms come in handy when you have only two people! Here we are in front of the Arc de Triomphe all aglow.
Brussels has two important landmarks : the Grand Place (which will be featured in a later post) and Mannekin Pis. This statue's name is self-explanatory, I think... Yes, he is peeing.
Despite the cold, cold weather (or what I thought was cold at the time) I put ice cream on top of my Belgian waffle. You only live once.
So, it turns out that cold in Belgium was nothing compared with cold in Germany. This picture was taken at sunset in Munich, and you can still see the frost on the ground! You can also see the silhouettes of all the major Munich landmarks on the horizon.
Maybe the most important thing that happened in Munich was that I made Katie drink beer. She actually liked one of the ones I made her try, too! (Not this one, though. This one she thought was too bitter.)
In Hamburg, we found a statue of Martin Luther. As it turns out, Hamburg marked our departure from Catholicland and our entry into Lutheranland. This made me a bit too giddy for my own good.
As it turns out, frost in Munich was NOTHING compared to frost in Hamburg. This picture was taken in the middle of the day for the top of St. Michael's church in Hamburg.
Hamburg was as cold as it got though. This is Nyhavn in Copenhagen, right across from where Hans Christian Anderson lived.
During one of our many train rides, Katie was musing about how long it had been since she'd made candy and describing the process to me. Then our first night in Sweden Cecile recruited us to make candies!
It's now Christmas Eve here, which is the big Swedish day of celebration. Merry Christmas!
Katie and I finally got our cameras hooked up to a computer here in Sweden. We discovered that between the two of us we have over 900 pictures from the past two and a half weeks. Needless to say, we won't be posting all of those here... If you want to see them all you'll have to come find one of us when we're safely back in the States. I had to make some painful decisions to figure out which pictures to post right now, but I think it's at least a decent overview of my travels thus far. There is at least one picture per city.
I started out in London, if you recall, visiting Angelica. Here is a picture of us posing with ancient Greek sculptures in the British Museum. I had to beg Angelica for this picture. She did not want to take a touristy picture in "her" town.
After London, I took Carl's brief tour of Cambridge. Here he is with his beloved math department! It looks like something from outer space. (Math nerds are so other-worldly...)
In Seville, Katie let me try on one of her school's flamenco dresses. So cool! Ah! Big skirts!
We weren't really allowed to take pictures in the Reina Sofia museum in Madrid (even though I did take one quick, illicit picture) so instead I took a picture of Katie in their courtyard.
Here's me rowing a boat in the middle of Madrid in December! Not exactly what I was expecting to do, but it was fun.
Ok, and here is Katie getting ready to brush her teeth on the overnight train from Madrid to Paris. Can't you see the excitement radiating from her? Ironically, she had trouble sleeping that night because she was too excited about the prospect of sleeping on a train.
Long arms come in handy when you have only two people! Here we are in front of the Arc de Triomphe all aglow.
Brussels has two important landmarks : the Grand Place (which will be featured in a later post) and Mannekin Pis. This statue's name is self-explanatory, I think... Yes, he is peeing.
Despite the cold, cold weather (or what I thought was cold at the time) I put ice cream on top of my Belgian waffle. You only live once.
So, it turns out that cold in Belgium was nothing compared with cold in Germany. This picture was taken at sunset in Munich, and you can still see the frost on the ground! You can also see the silhouettes of all the major Munich landmarks on the horizon.
Maybe the most important thing that happened in Munich was that I made Katie drink beer. She actually liked one of the ones I made her try, too! (Not this one, though. This one she thought was too bitter.)
In Hamburg, we found a statue of Martin Luther. As it turns out, Hamburg marked our departure from Catholicland and our entry into Lutheranland. This made me a bit too giddy for my own good.
As it turns out, frost in Munich was NOTHING compared to frost in Hamburg. This picture was taken in the middle of the day for the top of St. Michael's church in Hamburg.
Hamburg was as cold as it got though. This is Nyhavn in Copenhagen, right across from where Hans Christian Anderson lived.
During one of our many train rides, Katie was musing about how long it had been since she'd made candy and describing the process to me. Then our first night in Sweden Cecile recruited us to make candies!
It's now Christmas Eve here, which is the big Swedish day of celebration. Merry Christmas!
Sunday, December 23, 2007
Now in Stockholm
Hello hello! This is another pre-written blog entry courtesy of lots of time spent on a train.
Our journey north is progressing slowly but surely and by the time I post this we will have arrived in Stockholm. (Yea verily.) With a little luck, we may get snow, though there's no sign of it yet. Merry Christmas!
Germany was great. We stayed with my uncle Gene's sister and her family. They were very welcoming and made us feel right at home. On Thursday and Friday we explored Munich during the day then went back to eat dinner (bread and cheese and salami) with them.
What struck me most about Munich was the frost. We just don't get frost like that in California! If Katie hadn't corrected me, I would have thought it was snow. Everything was white from all the ice! It looked spectacular, but it was literally freezing cold.
On Thursday we went into the Residenz, the former seat of the Bavarian government. It's a palace far too big for its own good. I don't know how many first and second waiting rooms we saw. I think everyone who ever lived there built their own wing with a new bedroom/throne room/etc. We waltzed in the beautiful grand hall, in honor of Edwin. :-)
On Friday we went to BMW world in the morning where we "test drove" a BMW on a simulator, posed on motorcycles, and became unnecessarily excited about liquid hyrdogen. After lunch we went to the Deutches Museum and stayed there until closing. It is an enormous museum with a litle bit of everything. Katie actually got lost for 15 minutes trying to get out of the astronomy exhibit, it was that big. We didn't see most of the museum, even though we spent hours there. But we did see ships, airplanes, space shutles, glassware, experiments demonstrating the various properties of light, a flight simulator, and a math coerner. The math corner tried to explain this magic trick with rings, but we could never make it work right.
After the museum, we went to the Haufbrauhaus, which is an old, historic brewery turned restaurant/bar. Most of the people there were drinking beer out of the biggest mugs I have ever seen. I ordered the smallest beer on the menu (it was only half a liter...) and even Katie admitted that it was pretty good beer.
---end pre-recorded message---
We're in Sweden now, which is great. It's ridiculously dark, though. The sun set about 3:30. We spent our evening doing laundry and making candy. All around a successful day, I'd say.
Our journey north is progressing slowly but surely and by the time I post this we will have arrived in Stockholm. (Yea verily.) With a little luck, we may get snow, though there's no sign of it yet. Merry Christmas!
Germany was great. We stayed with my uncle Gene's sister and her family. They were very welcoming and made us feel right at home. On Thursday and Friday we explored Munich during the day then went back to eat dinner (bread and cheese and salami) with them.
What struck me most about Munich was the frost. We just don't get frost like that in California! If Katie hadn't corrected me, I would have thought it was snow. Everything was white from all the ice! It looked spectacular, but it was literally freezing cold.
On Thursday we went into the Residenz, the former seat of the Bavarian government. It's a palace far too big for its own good. I don't know how many first and second waiting rooms we saw. I think everyone who ever lived there built their own wing with a new bedroom/throne room/etc. We waltzed in the beautiful grand hall, in honor of Edwin. :-)
On Friday we went to BMW world in the morning where we "test drove" a BMW on a simulator, posed on motorcycles, and became unnecessarily excited about liquid hyrdogen. After lunch we went to the Deutches Museum and stayed there until closing. It is an enormous museum with a litle bit of everything. Katie actually got lost for 15 minutes trying to get out of the astronomy exhibit, it was that big. We didn't see most of the museum, even though we spent hours there. But we did see ships, airplanes, space shutles, glassware, experiments demonstrating the various properties of light, a flight simulator, and a math coerner. The math corner tried to explain this magic trick with rings, but we could never make it work right.
After the museum, we went to the Haufbrauhaus, which is an old, historic brewery turned restaurant/bar. Most of the people there were drinking beer out of the biggest mugs I have ever seen. I ordered the smallest beer on the menu (it was only half a liter...) and even Katie admitted that it was pretty good beer.
---end pre-recorded message---
We're in Sweden now, which is great. It's ridiculously dark, though. The sun set about 3:30. We spent our evening doing laundry and making candy. All around a successful day, I'd say.
Wednesday, December 19, 2007
Arrival in Munich
I wrote the following blog entry on a train from Paris to Stuttgart earlier today.
Today is day 12 of my travels, and it seems that socks will be the limiting factor to my ability to live out of one suitcase without doing laundry. I thought it would be underwear until I found a stash of clean ones at the bottom of my backpack. Believe you me, I have never been so happy to come across underwear before!
The past three dazs have been nuts. In general, travling for so long is a bit crazy, but especially these past days. In 3 days we saw the capitals of 3 different countries: Madrid, Spain; Paris, France; and Brussels, Belgium. (Yes, I know Brussels wasn't on our original itinerary. If thereäs one thing I´ve learned from this trip, it's that you can never trust an original itinerary. Even now Iäm hesistant to say exactly where we're headed because things may still change.) Now we're en route to Munich, our fourth country in four days and fifth city in five. I cannot vouch for our sanity. If you want to keep playing the number game, then there's a period of 22 days (that is 22x24 hours) during which I will have touched the ground in 9 countries. Granted, that onlz has about half an hour each in England and the USA, but you get the idea. Lots of places, short amount of time. I feel vaguely like I'm playing a video game, collecting a star every time I visit a new place. Ding! Ding! Ding!
I can't remember if I had time to write about Madrid when I was in Paris... We spent most of the day in museums and part of the afternoon in a rowboat.
In Paris, I spent the morning running errands - dropping off luggage, checking my e-mail, closing my bank account, buying train tickets (a never-ending task). We grabbed baguettes for lunch and ate in the freeying Jardins de Luxembourg. Our whirlwind half-day tour of Paris also included the Pantheon, Notre Dame, les Galeries Lafazette (a big, fancz department store with a huge Christmas tree in the middle), the top of the tour Montparnasse, and a thwarted attempt to tour the opera house. That makes twice now that the opera has been exceptionally closed when I wanted to visit. The people we're staying with in Paris are extremely and unbelievably nice. I'm very grateful.
Yesterday was another cold, cold day, but in Brussels, quite a contrast from sunny Spain. It was wonderful, though. The town was all decked out for Christmas with lights over all the streets and on all the buildings, Christmas trees, tons of nativity scenes, and hundreds of stands selling gifts and food. In the evening, they played opera music in the Grand Place and had a light show projected onto the already amazingly beautiful Town Hall. I took a video of part of it that I will post assuming I eventually get mz camera attached to a computer.
How am I doing? I'm hanging in there. I'm not sick which iws great. I'm walking a lot and eating a lot without really reflecting on the consequences to my nutrient intake or monetary expenses. Muscles that I didn't know I had are now sore. In sum, it's nice to be sitting down right now.
Today is day 12 of my travels, and it seems that socks will be the limiting factor to my ability to live out of one suitcase without doing laundry. I thought it would be underwear until I found a stash of clean ones at the bottom of my backpack. Believe you me, I have never been so happy to come across underwear before!
The past three dazs have been nuts. In general, travling for so long is a bit crazy, but especially these past days. In 3 days we saw the capitals of 3 different countries: Madrid, Spain; Paris, France; and Brussels, Belgium. (Yes, I know Brussels wasn't on our original itinerary. If thereäs one thing I´ve learned from this trip, it's that you can never trust an original itinerary. Even now Iäm hesistant to say exactly where we're headed because things may still change.) Now we're en route to Munich, our fourth country in four days and fifth city in five. I cannot vouch for our sanity. If you want to keep playing the number game, then there's a period of 22 days (that is 22x24 hours) during which I will have touched the ground in 9 countries. Granted, that onlz has about half an hour each in England and the USA, but you get the idea. Lots of places, short amount of time. I feel vaguely like I'm playing a video game, collecting a star every time I visit a new place. Ding! Ding! Ding!
I can't remember if I had time to write about Madrid when I was in Paris... We spent most of the day in museums and part of the afternoon in a rowboat.
In Paris, I spent the morning running errands - dropping off luggage, checking my e-mail, closing my bank account, buying train tickets (a never-ending task). We grabbed baguettes for lunch and ate in the freeying Jardins de Luxembourg. Our whirlwind half-day tour of Paris also included the Pantheon, Notre Dame, les Galeries Lafazette (a big, fancz department store with a huge Christmas tree in the middle), the top of the tour Montparnasse, and a thwarted attempt to tour the opera house. That makes twice now that the opera has been exceptionally closed when I wanted to visit. The people we're staying with in Paris are extremely and unbelievably nice. I'm very grateful.
Yesterday was another cold, cold day, but in Brussels, quite a contrast from sunny Spain. It was wonderful, though. The town was all decked out for Christmas with lights over all the streets and on all the buildings, Christmas trees, tons of nativity scenes, and hundreds of stands selling gifts and food. In the evening, they played opera music in the Grand Place and had a light show projected onto the already amazingly beautiful Town Hall. I took a video of part of it that I will post assuming I eventually get mz camera attached to a computer.
How am I doing? I'm hanging in there. I'm not sick which iws great. I'm walking a lot and eating a lot without really reflecting on the consequences to my nutrient intake or monetary expenses. Muscles that I didn't know I had are now sore. In sum, it's nice to be sitting down right now.
Monday, December 17, 2007
Back in Paris
Katie and I are back in Paris, which feels a bit like coming home. It's nice to understand what people around me are saying again. On the other hand, we have typical Parisian weather here - lots of clouds and no sun. The sun in Spain was amazingly luxurious.
In Madrid we saw three museums: the Museo Reina Sofia (easily my favorite museum so far - lots of cool surrealist artwork and it was organized very logically), the Museo del Prado (like the Louvre of Spain) and the Museo de Jamon, where we ate lunch. Yes folks, we at lunch at the museum of ham. In the afternoon we went walking in this enormous park thing in the middle of Madrid that has a pond/lake/body of water in the middle of it. We rented a rowboat for 45 minutes and paddled our way in circles. It was lovely!
The night train from Madrid to Paris was pretty cool. Katie was unbelievably excited to sleep on a train. I cannot describe it for you. You have to see it to believe it. We shared our compartment with a Spanish woman who works in Paris. She arrived after us, and when she walked in, Katie and I had our luggage all over the chairs, there were open jars of peanut butter and honey, and we were halfway through eating an almond cake. In other words, her first impression of us was at our sloppiest moment.
In Madrid we saw three museums: the Museo Reina Sofia (easily my favorite museum so far - lots of cool surrealist artwork and it was organized very logically), the Museo del Prado (like the Louvre of Spain) and the Museo de Jamon, where we ate lunch. Yes folks, we at lunch at the museum of ham. In the afternoon we went walking in this enormous park thing in the middle of Madrid that has a pond/lake/body of water in the middle of it. We rented a rowboat for 45 minutes and paddled our way in circles. It was lovely!
The night train from Madrid to Paris was pretty cool. Katie was unbelievably excited to sleep on a train. I cannot describe it for you. You have to see it to believe it. We shared our compartment with a Spanish woman who works in Paris. She arrived after us, and when she walked in, Katie and I had our luggage all over the chairs, there were open jars of peanut butter and honey, and we were halfway through eating an almond cake. In other words, her first impression of us was at our sloppiest moment.
Sunday, December 16, 2007
Madrid!
Katie and I have successfully landed in Madrid. We´ll be here for another 10 hours about (just long enough to catch all the museums that are free on Sunday!) before boarding a train for Paris.
Saturday, December 15, 2007
Highlights from the past week
Hey folks! I´m on the computer at the hostel Carl and I stayed at the past three nights in Seville with about an hour to kill before I walk to the train station, so I thought I´d take the opportunity to try to decompress these past 7 days a bit. Traveling so far has been amazing! My feet are a bit tired - it´s probably a good thing that Katie and I will be spending a couple of days just sitting on trains. But, my legs will be in great shape by the time I get home!
Last Saturday I got up early early in the morning to catch my flight to London. It was cloudy when I left Paris and raining when I landed in London, but that´s England for you! Angelica met me at Canary Wharf, and we went ice skating in an outdoor rink there. I met some of her football (soccer) friends, who are all very nice and mostly very British. The next day I actually got to see one of their matches. Except it was raining, and dark by the time the game finished, so I actually spent most of the game in the nearby hut watching from afar.
On Monday, I toured Parliament in the morning with my mom´s friend Ian. The building was pretty cool, but the best part of the tour was listening to him describe a bit the various traditions and history of the British government. For example, there´s a statue of Winston Churchill right outside the House of Commons whose foot has been completely polished because MPs rub it for luck before an important speech or debate.
Tuesday night, we went to see The Lion King. It was so cool! The costumes were to-die-for. Lions! Giraffes! Elephants! (Oh my...)
Wednesday I went up to Cambridge to meet up with Carl, took a turn around the town, and then headed down here to sunny Seville. I love Seville. This is my favorite place I´ve been yet this trip. Maybe it´s just the weather. It´s the perfect temperature here - you can wear a t-shirt if you want, or a jacket if you prefer, and you´ll feel fine. And the sun is shining! And sunset isn´t until 6, 6:30! I´m in heaven. The buildings here are beautiful too! Lots of bright paint, and fancy tiling. Oh, and delicious food in tiny portions so you can try all of it! This city is made for snacking, seriously. And, Ethan: Katie and I tried rabbit the other day and it was very good.
Last Saturday I got up early early in the morning to catch my flight to London. It was cloudy when I left Paris and raining when I landed in London, but that´s England for you! Angelica met me at Canary Wharf, and we went ice skating in an outdoor rink there. I met some of her football (soccer) friends, who are all very nice and mostly very British. The next day I actually got to see one of their matches. Except it was raining, and dark by the time the game finished, so I actually spent most of the game in the nearby hut watching from afar.
On Monday, I toured Parliament in the morning with my mom´s friend Ian. The building was pretty cool, but the best part of the tour was listening to him describe a bit the various traditions and history of the British government. For example, there´s a statue of Winston Churchill right outside the House of Commons whose foot has been completely polished because MPs rub it for luck before an important speech or debate.
Tuesday night, we went to see The Lion King. It was so cool! The costumes were to-die-for. Lions! Giraffes! Elephants! (Oh my...)
Wednesday I went up to Cambridge to meet up with Carl, took a turn around the town, and then headed down here to sunny Seville. I love Seville. This is my favorite place I´ve been yet this trip. Maybe it´s just the weather. It´s the perfect temperature here - you can wear a t-shirt if you want, or a jacket if you prefer, and you´ll feel fine. And the sun is shining! And sunset isn´t until 6, 6:30! I´m in heaven. The buildings here are beautiful too! Lots of bright paint, and fancy tiling. Oh, and delicious food in tiny portions so you can try all of it! This city is made for snacking, seriously. And, Ethan: Katie and I tried rabbit the other day and it was very good.
Wednesday, December 12, 2007
Location:
Seville!
DChi - you won't get pictures for quite a while. I am in Seville with my camera. The cord to move pictures to the computer is on a balcony in Paris. But I promise you that I do have pictures, and come January (or earlier if need be) those pictures will make a sudden appearance on this blog.
DChi - you won't get pictures for quite a while. I am in Seville with my camera. The cord to move pictures to the computer is on a balcony in Paris. But I promise you that I do have pictures, and come January (or earlier if need be) those pictures will make a sudden appearance on this blog.
Sunday, December 9, 2007
Friday, December 7, 2007
Turning pages
The Stanford program has come to a close. I sent in my final paper this morning and my bags are very nearly packed. It's not quite a farewell to Paris yet - Katie and I will spend several more days here - but it is a farewell to life as a Parisian. Even though that did take some getting used to and part of me is anxious to return to the normal, familiar, California routine, I will be sad to see my Parisian life go. Did I take full advantage of the opportunity? It's hard to say. It's easier to look at what I could have done that at what I did, but maybe that's because right now I'm trying to think of what to cram into my last few days with Katie.
I will miss the amazing cheese in France. Sure, there's good cheese in the US, but not to the same extent. Similarly, I will miss how every bottle of wine here is good - even the ones I can afford on my extra-restricted American student budget (Why did the dollar drop just when I went abroad?) I will miss seeing the Eiffel Tower glitter every night. I will miss speaking and hearing French.
But I do look forward to getting back to California efficiency. Everything here takes so much longer than I anticipate. I never leave myself enough time to get anything done. Meals can take four hours. Going to make a purchase generally involves dropping into multiple stores because every store is really more of a boutique with unstandardized merchandise. And even when I go to a mega-store, the item I want is rarely in an intuitive location. Don't get me started on the French propensity to arrive fashionably fashionably fashionably late, either.
The upshot of all this is that today I ran around like a chicken with its head cut off trying to tie up all the loose ends that I haven't had time for before. I still have things left, too, like fixing these train tickets I bought two weeks ago but for the wrong day. Oops!
What have I been up to this week, other than finishing classes and frantically trying to find blank CDs? Well, on Tuesday night I finally went to the opera to see Carmen performed by a touring company based in the Ukraine. The opera was magnificent. The music was gorgeous and the costumes were stunning. Allison (the girl I went with) remarked that you can really only wear dresses like that in a performance of Carmen. No other occasion is quite suitable.
Because Carmen is a French opera, and this is Paris, they opted not to use supertitles. This was a mistake. First, opera singing in any language is pretty much unintelligible. Second, they spoke French with the thickest, most un-French accents imaginable. Luckily, I read the libretto ahead of time so I knew vaguely what was going on, but even so I understood maybe one out of every 20 words. I doubt if the native speakers were any better off.
Last night we had our farewell dinner. I took pictures of all of my food, but on someone else's camera, so you can't see them - yet! We at at Le Train Bleu, which is a very fancy, famous Parisian restaurant that opened in 1900 for the World's Fair, or Expo, or whatever it was called. They haven't changed the interior of the restaurant at all since then, and it is beautiful! The food was amazing too. The meal started with "des amuses bouches" (mouth entertainment, or a fancier way of saying appetizers) with smoked salmon and champagne. Then the entrée (which is not the main dish in France) was crab and shrimp in a delicate pastry with lobster sauce. It was absolutely incredibly. Then we had veal with pasta and the best red wine I've ever had. After this came the cheese course. Dessert was this amazing chocolate brownie-esque pastry filled with chocolate and caramel. Mmmm. I love the Bings.
I take off tomorrow morning at 6 am to get to the airport in time for my 9:30 am flight. Time to become a world-traveler again!
I will miss the amazing cheese in France. Sure, there's good cheese in the US, but not to the same extent. Similarly, I will miss how every bottle of wine here is good - even the ones I can afford on my extra-restricted American student budget (Why did the dollar drop just when I went abroad?) I will miss seeing the Eiffel Tower glitter every night. I will miss speaking and hearing French.
But I do look forward to getting back to California efficiency. Everything here takes so much longer than I anticipate. I never leave myself enough time to get anything done. Meals can take four hours. Going to make a purchase generally involves dropping into multiple stores because every store is really more of a boutique with unstandardized merchandise. And even when I go to a mega-store, the item I want is rarely in an intuitive location. Don't get me started on the French propensity to arrive fashionably fashionably fashionably late, either.
The upshot of all this is that today I ran around like a chicken with its head cut off trying to tie up all the loose ends that I haven't had time for before. I still have things left, too, like fixing these train tickets I bought two weeks ago but for the wrong day. Oops!
What have I been up to this week, other than finishing classes and frantically trying to find blank CDs? Well, on Tuesday night I finally went to the opera to see Carmen performed by a touring company based in the Ukraine. The opera was magnificent. The music was gorgeous and the costumes were stunning. Allison (the girl I went with) remarked that you can really only wear dresses like that in a performance of Carmen. No other occasion is quite suitable.
Because Carmen is a French opera, and this is Paris, they opted not to use supertitles. This was a mistake. First, opera singing in any language is pretty much unintelligible. Second, they spoke French with the thickest, most un-French accents imaginable. Luckily, I read the libretto ahead of time so I knew vaguely what was going on, but even so I understood maybe one out of every 20 words. I doubt if the native speakers were any better off.
Last night we had our farewell dinner. I took pictures of all of my food, but on someone else's camera, so you can't see them - yet! We at at Le Train Bleu, which is a very fancy, famous Parisian restaurant that opened in 1900 for the World's Fair, or Expo, or whatever it was called. They haven't changed the interior of the restaurant at all since then, and it is beautiful! The food was amazing too. The meal started with "des amuses bouches" (mouth entertainment, or a fancier way of saying appetizers) with smoked salmon and champagne. Then the entrée (which is not the main dish in France) was crab and shrimp in a delicate pastry with lobster sauce. It was absolutely incredibly. Then we had veal with pasta and the best red wine I've ever had. After this came the cheese course. Dessert was this amazing chocolate brownie-esque pastry filled with chocolate and caramel. Mmmm. I love the Bings.
I take off tomorrow morning at 6 am to get to the airport in time for my 9:30 am flight. Time to become a world-traveler again!
Wednesday, December 5, 2007
Life after Paris?
Hey folks!
So in 3 days I will no longer be in Paris. Crazy how time has gone by so fast! This last week is filled with some pretty exciting stuff, that hopefully I will get a chance to write about soon.
This post, though, is to give you an update on where Allie will be for the next month. A fact I like citing right now is that in the next month I will be in 8 different countries. Pretty exciting!
The lovely map to your left has (roughly) my voyage throughout Europe marked on it. I will be traveling most of the time with Katie Turner. We don't yet have all necessary train tickets because of the weird way that train bureaucracies work, but here's roughly what our itinerary looks like:
Saturday, December 8 - Allie flies to London
Wednesday, December 12 - Allie meets Carl in Cambridge and they fly down to Seville
Saturday, December 15 - Allie and Katie take off for Madrid!
Monday, December 17 - AK arrive in Paris in the morning
Wednesday, December 19 - To Munich
Saturday, December 22 - Train north!
Sunday, December 23 - Arrive in Stockholm
Tuesday, December 25 - Merry Christmas! Send me e-mails!
Wednesday, December 26 - Train south! (Arguably not the most efficient train route we picked, but it works out best...)
Thursday, December 27 - Arrive in Geneva. Hopefully there will be snow!
Sunday, December 30 - Back to Paris!
Tuesday, January 1 - New Year's, and Katie's birthday. Send her e-mails!
Thursday, January 3 - Fly home!
Whew, I'm exhausted just writing it all out. Keep us in your prayers...
Monday, December 3, 2007
Avoir passé un trimestre à Paris
Etre arrivée il y a deux mois sans valise et sans avoir bien dormi mais contente néanmoins de me trouver à Paris ; m’être bientôt rendu compte du contenu excessif des valises finalement arrivées ; avoir contemplé longtemps le style des parisiennes dans le métro avec étonnement ; avoir décidé d’acheter de mignonnes chaussures ; m’être devenue mouillée sous la pluie et avoir eu froid ; avoir acheté des bottes d’hiver et un parapluie ; avoir été malade loin du soin soulageant de ma mère et des médicament dont les noms ne m’étaient pas inconnus ; m’être brossé les dents toutes les nuits à vingt-deux heures pour voir les lumières brillantes de la Tour Eiffel par la fenêtre ; m’être couché le soir avec réticence, les mots en français dansant toujours dans mes pensées ; avoir écrit des cartes postales destinées aux amis qui, à cause de la grève des écrivains d’Hollywood, avaient besoin de divertissements, mais avoir découvert que La Poste était aussi en grève ; m’être demandé s’il n’aurait pas mieux valu venir au printemps ; avoir décidé de considérer les grèves comme des opportunités de découvrir des quartiers inconnu de Paris à pied ; avoir changé d’avis et avoir décidé de considérer les grèves comme des opportunités de découvrir des quartiers moins connus de Paris en bus ; avoir repensé et avoir décidé de considérer les grèves comme des opportunités de découvrir comment me plaindre en français ; avoir parlé en français aux cassiers qui ont répondu en anglais ; avoir indiqué le chemin en français à un homme près des Tuileries qui les a traduites en anglais pour une touriste américaine ; avoir trop mangé au dîner, mais avoir envie de goûter, seulement goûter, une pâtisserie ; avoir mémorisé les arrêts de la métro entre l’ISEP et chez moi ; avoir pris l’habitude d’appeler l’appartement où j’habite maintenant « chez moi » ; avoir cherché partout des petits morceaux de chocolat pour faire des cookies américains et, n’en avoir trouvé nulle part, avoir coupé du chocolat moi-même ; avoir souri de voir ma mère d’accueil, qui ne mange jamais de dessert, goûter un cookie avec plaisir ; avoir reconnu en elle le même plaisir que j’avais découvert Paris.
Sunday, December 2, 2007
Apologies
I took no pictures this week. I'm sorry! I didn't have my camera when things that I wanted to photograph happened, and when I did take my camera with me, the photographable event never took place. (My planned museum trip today was thwarted inexplicably. I'm still sad.)
I've also just not done that much this week...So to make up for the lack of interesting pictures of Paris, I give you a picture of me working on a paper.
(Notice how both my hands are in the picture. I'm very proud of that. I had to hit the button with my foot!)
Aaaaaaaaand back to work.
I've also just not done that much this week...So to make up for the lack of interesting pictures of Paris, I give you a picture of me working on a paper.
(Notice how both my hands are in the picture. I'm very proud of that. I had to hit the button with my foot!)Aaaaaaaaand back to work.
Saturday, December 1, 2007
How not to get a date in Paris
My time here in Paris is rapidly coming to a close, and it occurs to me that there is one very important subject that has yet to be discussed in this blog, and that is the subject of your "sketchy Frenchman."
Back in the states, it was always my understanding that French men had a bit of a reputation going for being overly amorous. While I don't want to say anything on the verity of that particular claim in general, I ought to describe to you the particular instances that have come to my attention.
First, I'd like to note that I'm not the only person this happens to. Basically every girl in the Stanford program has a similar story to tell. Wenqi, the girl I live with, apparently gets hollered at in various Asian languages. I suppose I ought to take it as a compliment that I mainly get addressed in French.
My first run-in with a "sketchy Frenchman" was actually back in 2004 when I was traveling with Angelica. We were in a park in Belgium, innocently minding our own naive, adolescent business and playing cards, when a middle-aged Parisian man happened across us. He decided to interrupt our card game by lying down next to us and giving us a lecture on how we clearly weren't paying enough attention in school. Ahem.
Fast-forward to 2007. Over the course of my 10 weeks here, I've had probably about as many questionable encounters, though they seem to be centralized at the beginning and the end of my trip. I have no good explanation for why the middle of my stay here was relatively calm. Maybe the sketchy Frenchmen only come out around tourist seasons. Maybe they went on strike. Who knows. But I digress.
Here are some of my favorite anecdotes:
On my birthday, I was walking with some friends on a bridge across the Seine when the man who was walking in the other direction bent down to basically put his face in front of my chest and made a series of kissing noises. I'm not entirely sure what that was supposed to accomplish.
I once had a guy follow me out of the metro station and part of the way back to my apartment. He compared my beauty to that of a Harley Davidson we walked past, and to the "prettiest flower in the field." When I told him to go away, he told me that I had the voice of an angel. Somehow I don't think I quite got the point across... He also wanted me to know that he'd take me to a bar if he weren't headed to work. Good thing he had other things to do.
Another time, I was sitting waiting for the metro to arrive when a homeless man came and sat down next to me. He wanted me to know that he was Tunisian and wanted someone to talk to. He also smelled pretty terrible. I tried to ignore him, but he asked where I was from. I said "America" because I'm not very good at ignoring people. He then went on for quite a while about how "men in America don't respect women. But I do. I respect you. I respect women. Isn't it true that men don't respect you?" Eventually I told him that I didn't feel like talking, and he said "That's ok, because I respect you." Apparently this is a very important issue for him.
(I had two other metro encounters of note, but they weren't quite as sketchy. Once the guy sitting diagonal from me interrupted my reading to let me know that I had the face of an angel - apparently a comparison Parisian men like making a lot. Another time, I was reading Le Mariage de Figaro in preparation to go see it when a man stopped me to ask if I was an actress. I wish I could tell you that I lied and let him believe I was, but I didn't.)
I walked past another homeless man once who directed a "meow" at me. No, not a cat-call. A "meow."
There was also a time when I was walking with a friend back to the metro one evening. A guy stopped her to ask if she could give him any money, and she responded in English saying that she didn't understand French. His immediate response was to say, in the thickest French accent imaginable, "Are you American? I'm American too!" As I recall, he followed this up with a string of inappropriate statements, in English.
And then there's the run-in that prompted me to write this all up. I was crossing the street on my way back from the grocery store today, chewing on a piece of baguette, when a man stopped me to tell me that "Votre garçon ne doit pas dormir tranquil." Translation: Your boy must not sleep well.
So Paris may be the city of love, and the French may be renowned romantics, but in this girl's opinion, a bad pick-up line is still a bad pick-up line. Any single, male, American readers I may have need not be pressured to follow the French example.
Back in the states, it was always my understanding that French men had a bit of a reputation going for being overly amorous. While I don't want to say anything on the verity of that particular claim in general, I ought to describe to you the particular instances that have come to my attention.
First, I'd like to note that I'm not the only person this happens to. Basically every girl in the Stanford program has a similar story to tell. Wenqi, the girl I live with, apparently gets hollered at in various Asian languages. I suppose I ought to take it as a compliment that I mainly get addressed in French.
My first run-in with a "sketchy Frenchman" was actually back in 2004 when I was traveling with Angelica. We were in a park in Belgium, innocently minding our own naive, adolescent business and playing cards, when a middle-aged Parisian man happened across us. He decided to interrupt our card game by lying down next to us and giving us a lecture on how we clearly weren't paying enough attention in school. Ahem.
Fast-forward to 2007. Over the course of my 10 weeks here, I've had probably about as many questionable encounters, though they seem to be centralized at the beginning and the end of my trip. I have no good explanation for why the middle of my stay here was relatively calm. Maybe the sketchy Frenchmen only come out around tourist seasons. Maybe they went on strike. Who knows. But I digress.
Here are some of my favorite anecdotes:
On my birthday, I was walking with some friends on a bridge across the Seine when the man who was walking in the other direction bent down to basically put his face in front of my chest and made a series of kissing noises. I'm not entirely sure what that was supposed to accomplish.
I once had a guy follow me out of the metro station and part of the way back to my apartment. He compared my beauty to that of a Harley Davidson we walked past, and to the "prettiest flower in the field." When I told him to go away, he told me that I had the voice of an angel. Somehow I don't think I quite got the point across... He also wanted me to know that he'd take me to a bar if he weren't headed to work. Good thing he had other things to do.
Another time, I was sitting waiting for the metro to arrive when a homeless man came and sat down next to me. He wanted me to know that he was Tunisian and wanted someone to talk to. He also smelled pretty terrible. I tried to ignore him, but he asked where I was from. I said "America" because I'm not very good at ignoring people. He then went on for quite a while about how "men in America don't respect women. But I do. I respect you. I respect women. Isn't it true that men don't respect you?" Eventually I told him that I didn't feel like talking, and he said "That's ok, because I respect you." Apparently this is a very important issue for him.
(I had two other metro encounters of note, but they weren't quite as sketchy. Once the guy sitting diagonal from me interrupted my reading to let me know that I had the face of an angel - apparently a comparison Parisian men like making a lot. Another time, I was reading Le Mariage de Figaro in preparation to go see it when a man stopped me to ask if I was an actress. I wish I could tell you that I lied and let him believe I was, but I didn't.)
I walked past another homeless man once who directed a "meow" at me. No, not a cat-call. A "meow."
There was also a time when I was walking with a friend back to the metro one evening. A guy stopped her to ask if she could give him any money, and she responded in English saying that she didn't understand French. His immediate response was to say, in the thickest French accent imaginable, "Are you American? I'm American too!" As I recall, he followed this up with a string of inappropriate statements, in English.
And then there's the run-in that prompted me to write this all up. I was crossing the street on my way back from the grocery store today, chewing on a piece of baguette, when a man stopped me to tell me that "Votre garçon ne doit pas dormir tranquil." Translation: Your boy must not sleep well.
So Paris may be the city of love, and the French may be renowned romantics, but in this girl's opinion, a bad pick-up line is still a bad pick-up line. Any single, male, American readers I may have need not be pressured to follow the French example.
Wednesday, November 28, 2007
Final season hit early this year...
Stanford quarters go by quickly as it is, and the effect is even more pronounced when there are no national holidays because, well, we're not exactly in the nation right now...
I'm smack dab in the middle of my final season, which doesn't remotely resemble any final season from quarters past. I'm a little under half done working on papers (plural, yes, this is new to the techie) and I don't understand how you fuzzie types out there ever get up the willpower to go from one paper to the next. I find myself longing for good ol' problem sets and programs. (Then again, give me a few months till I'm trying to juggle nothing but statistics classes and I may be singing a different tune.)
In between all this paper writing (which is really cramping my style) I have had the chance to be a bit of a tourist. Last Thursday morning it was sunny and I had the chance to go to Sainte Chapelle. Absolutely incredible. Sainte Chapelle is a small chapel built in the middle of the Ministry of Justice by a King Louis (there were many) to house the alleged Crown of Thorns he paid a fortune to buy in order to symbolize his own dedication to the poor. This all seems a bit suspect to me, but apparently he actually was a very generous king. Anyway, Sainte Chapelle.
This chapel is unique for a couple of other reasons. First, it was built on the second floor so that it could connect directly with the King's private chambers. The royal entrance is very grand, but now leads into the Ministry of Justice, so tourists don't generally get to see it. Instead, you have to climb up this incredibly narrow staircase that was originally for the servants. The first floor of the building serves only to create a platform for the chapel on the second. Well, and now it is also ye old chapel gift shop.
Second, the King and his architects decided to scrap the whole idea of walls and instead only put in stained glass windows. Pretty much the entire Old Testament is in these windows in picture format, along with much of the history of France leading up to the chapel's construction. It's really spectacular. There are so many images and stories that there's no way I would ever be able to have distinguished any of them on my own, and some people of dedicated their entire careers to studying them.
Then, on Friday, I got to spend the day with Esther!
It was a less-sunny, more-rainy day, but we still did a lot of touristy things. We tried very hard to go inside the Opera house, but discovered that it was exceptionally closed. I think this was in fact because the Opera went on strike again. Heh.
We also went to the fancy tea shop, Angelina, by the Tuileries. This time I had their signature hot chocolate. I understand why it's famous. It was like no hot chocolate I have ever had before. It was incredibly rich, and thick, like they'd melted chocolate and put it in a cup to drink. So if you're ever there, indulge in it.
I'm smack dab in the middle of my final season, which doesn't remotely resemble any final season from quarters past. I'm a little under half done working on papers (plural, yes, this is new to the techie) and I don't understand how you fuzzie types out there ever get up the willpower to go from one paper to the next. I find myself longing for good ol' problem sets and programs. (Then again, give me a few months till I'm trying to juggle nothing but statistics classes and I may be singing a different tune.)
In between all this paper writing (which is really cramping my style) I have had the chance to be a bit of a tourist. Last Thursday morning it was sunny and I had the chance to go to Sainte Chapelle. Absolutely incredible. Sainte Chapelle is a small chapel built in the middle of the Ministry of Justice by a King Louis (there were many) to house the alleged Crown of Thorns he paid a fortune to buy in order to symbolize his own dedication to the poor. This all seems a bit suspect to me, but apparently he actually was a very generous king. Anyway, Sainte Chapelle.
This chapel is unique for a couple of other reasons. First, it was built on the second floor so that it could connect directly with the King's private chambers. The royal entrance is very grand, but now leads into the Ministry of Justice, so tourists don't generally get to see it. Instead, you have to climb up this incredibly narrow staircase that was originally for the servants. The first floor of the building serves only to create a platform for the chapel on the second. Well, and now it is also ye old chapel gift shop.
Second, the King and his architects decided to scrap the whole idea of walls and instead only put in stained glass windows. Pretty much the entire Old Testament is in these windows in picture format, along with much of the history of France leading up to the chapel's construction. It's really spectacular. There are so many images and stories that there's no way I would ever be able to have distinguished any of them on my own, and some people of dedicated their entire careers to studying them.
Then, on Friday, I got to spend the day with Esther!It was a less-sunny, more-rainy day, but we still did a lot of touristy things. We tried very hard to go inside the Opera house, but discovered that it was exceptionally closed. I think this was in fact because the Opera went on strike again. Heh.
We also went to the fancy tea shop, Angelina, by the Tuileries. This time I had their signature hot chocolate. I understand why it's famous. It was like no hot chocolate I have ever had before. It was incredibly rich, and thick, like they'd melted chocolate and put it in a cup to drink. So if you're ever there, indulge in it.
Saturday, November 24, 2007
Heh...delayed pictures too!
Apparently I skipped a week of uploading pictures...oops!
Anyway, below is the Institut du Monde Arabe. It's a very, very cool building. It has a museum of Middle Eastern art inside it, the best part of which was a gallery of amazing rugs. I was not allowed to take photographs inside, however...
I took this picture of the Seine and Notre Dame after I left the Institut. I love it.
This is a picture of one of the fabulously eccentric metro bands. The spot they're playing at is right in the heart of Chatelet, the biggest metro station in Paris. There's almost always a group here, and they're usually pretty cool.
Some ISEP friends of mine learning how to salsa! I was at a birthday party that somehow turned into an impromptu dance lesson.
This is the window display of the strangest store in Paris. They sell umbrellas. Fancy umbrellas. Umbrellas that costs multiple hundreds of Euros to buy. Inside, there is fake snow everywhere and an enormous dog lying in the middle of it who raises his head halfheartedly when someone enters.
And then you have "Molière's Chair." This was the actual chair Molière sat in when he played the lead role in his play L'Invalid Imaginaire.
Pictures of Normandy!
So this first picture is not actually of Normandy, but I took it right before we left Paris. It's a statue of General Lafeyette presented to France "by the American schoolchildren." I find this hysterical.
Rachel, who I went with to Normandy, in the Norman forest. Look at all the leaves on the ground!
Two things that look like wild beasts but aren't. In the background, you have a frighteningly life-like statue of a stag. In the foreground is Watson.
The adorable house we stayed at!
And, yes, the beach at Deauville. I like seeing the coast every once in a while.
Rachel, who I went with to Normandy, in the Norman forest. Look at all the leaves on the ground!
Two things that look like wild beasts but aren't. In the background, you have a frighteningly life-like statue of a stag. In the foreground is Watson.
The adorable house we stayed at!
And, yes, the beach at Deauville. I like seeing the coast every once in a while.
Thursday, November 22, 2007
Happy Thanksgiving!
It's been a while since I had a proper Thanksgiving dinner. One year ago, Thanksgiving found me barely off vicodin in the slow process of recovering from wisdom teeth removal. My dad did a wonderful job of preparing soft, mushy foods I could swallow down, but it wasn't exactly a eat-till-you-roll-out-of-your-chair meal for me. And this year...who knows what I'll have for dinner. Wenqi is going to dinner with an American family tonight, so it'll be just me and my host family. I'll be content with anything so long as we aren't having leftovers. (I have no objections to leftovers normally, but I feel like that would be just too far removed from what a Thanksgiving dinner should be.)
But, in the spirit of the holiday, I am thankful for:
*The opportunity to see Europe and spend a few months in this amazing city
*The 66% of buses that aren't on strike anymore
*Mostly good weather this fall
*The friends I've made over here (Stanfordiennes and Isepiens)
*Friends from back in California, wherever they happen to be these days
*All of the e-mails, facebook messages, and cards I've received. It makes me really happy to know that there are people thinking about me. Thank you!
*My family, immediate and extended, who are so incredibly good at supporting me even though I'm in Paris where none of them live!
*Being basically in good health and good shape. It would be a lot harder to enjoy Paris otherwise, especially with the strikes.
*A dorm next quarter that will be 2 minutes instead of 2 hours from class :-)
But, in the spirit of the holiday, I am thankful for:
*The opportunity to see Europe and spend a few months in this amazing city
*The 66% of buses that aren't on strike anymore
*Mostly good weather this fall
*The friends I've made over here (Stanfordiennes and Isepiens)
*Friends from back in California, wherever they happen to be these days
*All of the e-mails, facebook messages, and cards I've received. It makes me really happy to know that there are people thinking about me. Thank you!
*My family, immediate and extended, who are so incredibly good at supporting me even though I'm in Paris where none of them live!
*Being basically in good health and good shape. It would be a lot harder to enjoy Paris otherwise, especially with the strikes.
*A dorm next quarter that will be 2 minutes instead of 2 hours from class :-)
Tuesday, November 20, 2007
Normandy
This past weekend, I went to Normandy with another Stanford student and an older couple. The wife is a Stanford alum who married a Frenchman that she met while studying abroad in Germany a long time ago. Now she relives her Stanford days by inviting Stanford students studying in Paris to spend the weekend with them at their second home in Normandy.
Normandy is beautiful. Their country house is this adorable cottage complete with thatched roof in the middle of a former hunting resort. I cannot tell you how nice it was to look out a window and see trees instead of buildings, or to go outside and really smell fresh air. On Saturday, we took a tour of the nearby town of Deauville to admire the beach. Pretty cool.
Apparently it entertains this couple immensely to "corrupt" Stanford students. They wanted to be very sure that we adequately tasted every time of alcohol Normandy (and France, I suppose) had to offer, mostly wine but also shots of this fermented apple liquor stuff. The most notable wine would have to be Beaujolais Nouveau, not because it was the best, but because it was the most interesting. Apparently Beaujolais Nouveau is a big deal, but I hadn't heard of it, so I'm going to explain anyway:
Beaujolais is a region in France known for its wines. The Beaujolais Nouveau is a wine that you drink starting on November 15 (not before or after) of the year it is vinted, but it's only good for a couple of months so you have to drink it all soon. It's a red wine, but you have to chill it before you drink it. I guess it's a bit sweeter than most other red wines I've had, but to me it basically tasted like cold red wine. However, I participated in a French wine fad. I feel cultured.
It's very strange to say, but the most memorable part of the weekend was probably their dog, Watson, named after the human genome guy. (After the recent scandal, they were told they should rename their dog, but they decided it was probably not worth the effort.) This dog is huge and shaggy. It's a Deerhound, which is apparently the type of dog Sirius turns into in the Harry Potter movies. Watson was probably about 4 feet tall and 5 feet long without stretching out his 3 foot long tail. He looks downright frightening, but he's incredibly low-energy. He sort of has the air of an old deaf man. They said they wanted a dog that was friendly but would scare away any potential burglars. They chose correctly.
Normandy is beautiful. Their country house is this adorable cottage complete with thatched roof in the middle of a former hunting resort. I cannot tell you how nice it was to look out a window and see trees instead of buildings, or to go outside and really smell fresh air. On Saturday, we took a tour of the nearby town of Deauville to admire the beach. Pretty cool.
Apparently it entertains this couple immensely to "corrupt" Stanford students. They wanted to be very sure that we adequately tasted every time of alcohol Normandy (and France, I suppose) had to offer, mostly wine but also shots of this fermented apple liquor stuff. The most notable wine would have to be Beaujolais Nouveau, not because it was the best, but because it was the most interesting. Apparently Beaujolais Nouveau is a big deal, but I hadn't heard of it, so I'm going to explain anyway:
Beaujolais is a region in France known for its wines. The Beaujolais Nouveau is a wine that you drink starting on November 15 (not before or after) of the year it is vinted, but it's only good for a couple of months so you have to drink it all soon. It's a red wine, but you have to chill it before you drink it. I guess it's a bit sweeter than most other red wines I've had, but to me it basically tasted like cold red wine. However, I participated in a French wine fad. I feel cultured.
It's very strange to say, but the most memorable part of the weekend was probably their dog, Watson, named after the human genome guy. (After the recent scandal, they were told they should rename their dog, but they decided it was probably not worth the effort.) This dog is huge and shaggy. It's a Deerhound, which is apparently the type of dog Sirius turns into in the Harry Potter movies. Watson was probably about 4 feet tall and 5 feet long without stretching out his 3 foot long tail. He looks downright frightening, but he's incredibly low-energy. He sort of has the air of an old deaf man. They said they wanted a dog that was friendly but would scare away any potential burglars. They chose correctly.
Sunday, November 18, 2007
Wednesday, November 14, 2007
And what is that supposed to mean?
Ok, so this is possibly my favorite language barrier confusion yet, because of the situation in which it came up.
Yesterday after class I was hanging around in the Foyer at ISEP waiting for a dance class to start and talking to this guy I'd met over the weekend. He was very proud to point out to me on the board where all of the student activities were posted that he was the student body Vice-President and the President of the "FISH Club".
He was less proud when a friend of his came over to explain to me what the "FISH Club" was.
What is it?
Here's a hint: "Fish" isn't a word in French. They got the name of the club by translating (directly) from French into English.
Yesterday after class I was hanging around in the Foyer at ISEP waiting for a dance class to start and talking to this guy I'd met over the weekend. He was very proud to point out to me on the board where all of the student activities were posted that he was the student body Vice-President and the President of the "FISH Club".
He was less proud when a friend of his came over to explain to me what the "FISH Club" was.
What is it?
Here's a hint: "Fish" isn't a word in French. They got the name of the club by translating (directly) from French into English.
Thursday, November 8, 2007
Photographies!
Mmmm, pictures. My favorite!
I didn't write up a blog entry about my trip in Sweden because I didn't do a lot of "blogable" things, except possibly eating and helping prepare a lot of vegan food. It was a very nice trip, though, and I spent a lot of time visiting with family over there. But I do have pictures!
Speaking of family...here's a picture of me and a handful of cousins taken at a dinner party the night I arrived.
Ah! And here is the narrowest street I have yet seen! It's a real street too. It has a name, and two doors that open off of it.
And a lovely view of Stockholm, taken from the top of an elevator named Katarina.
And finally, the vegan sushi feast my last night there, with two of my second cousins. Admire those sushi rolls. I rolled almost all of them! It was very cool.
I also finally got my hands on the rest of the pictures from Vaux-le-Vicomte, including the ones of me! So with no further ado, and in reverse chronological order, I present to you:
The back of the castle and it's lovely fountain!
One of the amazing tapestries inside. They had tons like this all over the castle.
Me, opening the door to my home. Err.....
The front of the castle! This place from the outside reminds me of the Darcy mansion. It has grounds like it too, with places to go fishing and hiking and all.
I didn't write up a blog entry about my trip in Sweden because I didn't do a lot of "blogable" things, except possibly eating and helping prepare a lot of vegan food. It was a very nice trip, though, and I spent a lot of time visiting with family over there. But I do have pictures!
Speaking of family...here's a picture of me and a handful of cousins taken at a dinner party the night I arrived.
Ah! And here is the narrowest street I have yet seen! It's a real street too. It has a name, and two doors that open off of it.
And a lovely view of Stockholm, taken from the top of an elevator named Katarina.
And finally, the vegan sushi feast my last night there, with two of my second cousins. Admire those sushi rolls. I rolled almost all of them! It was very cool.
I also finally got my hands on the rest of the pictures from Vaux-le-Vicomte, including the ones of me! So with no further ado, and in reverse chronological order, I present to you:
The back of the castle and it's lovely fountain!
One of the amazing tapestries inside. They had tons like this all over the castle.
Me, opening the door to my home. Err.....
The front of the castle! This place from the outside reminds me of the Darcy mansion. It has grounds like it too, with places to go fishing and hiking and all.
Metro musicians
I owe the fact that I contemplate this every time I'm in the metro to this article.
The metro is filled with people asking for money. Mothers sit against the walls holding their children (usually infants, though I've seen them do this with much larger children as well) with cups in front of them. Men attest to their unemployment in the cars and walk up and down the aisles with hands outstretched. Musicians of various caliber take up residence in trains or in the corner of a coveted transfer station. I've even seen a guy with a portable dancing puppet show going on and off trains.
Some of the musicians are really terrible. You get a lot of tone-deaf "singers" and amateur clarinetists in the trains themselves. But there are also some pretty good musicians, often the ones playing in the stations because they have to get permits to perform. Some of my favorites include a 16-piece orchestra I saw last time I was in Paris, a gypsy folk/banghra fusion group that I wish I'd had more time to listen to, and a woman playing an instrument that looked like a cross between a harp and a guitar. Not what I expected to hear when I stepped out my door, but very cool. It was the kind of music that puts a bounce in your step.
The problem with all of these people asking for money, musicians included, is that generally speaking I don't want to give them money. It sounds terrible, but it's true. There are so many people asking for money that I can't afford to give to everyone, but then I also can't come up with a good basis for determining who "deserves" money and who doesn't, so I'm one of the thousands of stingy people riding the metro day after day. Actually, I usually adopt the rather shameful attitude of appearing to ignore them altogether because it's easier to ignore someone than to look at them and tell them no. But maybe that will change.
Today as I was changing trains to come to school I heard a violin playing Eine Kleine Nachtmusik rather well. I like the song, so hearing it made me happy, and the sound echoed very nicely off all of the tunnel walls. When I got to my platform, I noticed to my great delight that the musician was standing on the other side of the tracks. I could listen to him play without feeling guilty for not giving him money. Unless I wanted to take my life in my hands to cross the tracks, there was no way I could get money to him. And the little sign told me that my train would arrive in 1 minute.
So for 1 minute I listened happily. I could be critical of the performance if I wanted - it wasn't perfect - but there was more good about it than not. At one point the violinist looked up and smiled at me, and I figured there was no harm in smiling back. (Smiling at strangers is another thing one just does not do in Paris.) When I got on my train to go, he stopped playing to wave goodbye. I was really touched. All I'd done was listen.
The metro is filled with people asking for money. Mothers sit against the walls holding their children (usually infants, though I've seen them do this with much larger children as well) with cups in front of them. Men attest to their unemployment in the cars and walk up and down the aisles with hands outstretched. Musicians of various caliber take up residence in trains or in the corner of a coveted transfer station. I've even seen a guy with a portable dancing puppet show going on and off trains.
Some of the musicians are really terrible. You get a lot of tone-deaf "singers" and amateur clarinetists in the trains themselves. But there are also some pretty good musicians, often the ones playing in the stations because they have to get permits to perform. Some of my favorites include a 16-piece orchestra I saw last time I was in Paris, a gypsy folk/banghra fusion group that I wish I'd had more time to listen to, and a woman playing an instrument that looked like a cross between a harp and a guitar. Not what I expected to hear when I stepped out my door, but very cool. It was the kind of music that puts a bounce in your step.
The problem with all of these people asking for money, musicians included, is that generally speaking I don't want to give them money. It sounds terrible, but it's true. There are so many people asking for money that I can't afford to give to everyone, but then I also can't come up with a good basis for determining who "deserves" money and who doesn't, so I'm one of the thousands of stingy people riding the metro day after day. Actually, I usually adopt the rather shameful attitude of appearing to ignore them altogether because it's easier to ignore someone than to look at them and tell them no. But maybe that will change.
Today as I was changing trains to come to school I heard a violin playing Eine Kleine Nachtmusik rather well. I like the song, so hearing it made me happy, and the sound echoed very nicely off all of the tunnel walls. When I got to my platform, I noticed to my great delight that the musician was standing on the other side of the tracks. I could listen to him play without feeling guilty for not giving him money. Unless I wanted to take my life in my hands to cross the tracks, there was no way I could get money to him. And the little sign told me that my train would arrive in 1 minute.
So for 1 minute I listened happily. I could be critical of the performance if I wanted - it wasn't perfect - but there was more good about it than not. At one point the violinist looked up and smiled at me, and I figured there was no harm in smiling back. (Smiling at strangers is another thing one just does not do in Paris.) When I got on my train to go, he stopped playing to wave goodbye. I was really touched. All I'd done was listen.
Wednesday, November 7, 2007
Cookies!
Today I baked chocolate chip cookies. This was a first in many ways. It was the first time I baked cookies on my own from scratch instead of from a can. Not only that, but I had my mom's recipe, which is in cups, and my host mom's measuring cups, which are in grams.
So in many ways the metric system is much nicer than the English system, with the exception of baking units. All of my host mom's measuring cups have at least 5 different systems of measurement on them, depending on the type of thing you're measuring. There's the flour marks, the liquid marks, and then the mysterious sugar marks. The trouble is, there are at least three different kinds of sugar with different weights and I used two of them in my recipe. How do I know which type of sugar those marks are for? And what if I want to measure something that doesn't have tick marks? She doesn't have a kitchen scale!
Also, why is it that America has managed to export McDonald's and Converse shoes and, of all things, Claire's (the tween girls' accessory shop), but not pre-packaged chocolate chips? I looked in two grocery stores and could not find them, so I gave up and bought chocolate bars with the intention of chipping my own chocolate. I don't know quite how I envisioned doing this in the store... After bashing the chocolate against the counter a few times with no remarkable progress, I pulled out a cutting board and the largest knife I could find and whent from there. Apparently all it takes for me to set aside my fear of large, sharp objects is the quest for chocolate chips.
All difficulties aside, my chocolate chip cookies are delicious. It was altogether a wonderful experience worth repeating.
I have also decided to amend the old adage that first children are like the first batch of cookies - they never turn out quite right. I have decided that they are also the most enjoyable. :-)
So in many ways the metric system is much nicer than the English system, with the exception of baking units. All of my host mom's measuring cups have at least 5 different systems of measurement on them, depending on the type of thing you're measuring. There's the flour marks, the liquid marks, and then the mysterious sugar marks. The trouble is, there are at least three different kinds of sugar with different weights and I used two of them in my recipe. How do I know which type of sugar those marks are for? And what if I want to measure something that doesn't have tick marks? She doesn't have a kitchen scale!
Also, why is it that America has managed to export McDonald's and Converse shoes and, of all things, Claire's (the tween girls' accessory shop), but not pre-packaged chocolate chips? I looked in two grocery stores and could not find them, so I gave up and bought chocolate bars with the intention of chipping my own chocolate. I don't know quite how I envisioned doing this in the store... After bashing the chocolate against the counter a few times with no remarkable progress, I pulled out a cutting board and the largest knife I could find and whent from there. Apparently all it takes for me to set aside my fear of large, sharp objects is the quest for chocolate chips.
All difficulties aside, my chocolate chip cookies are delicious. It was altogether a wonderful experience worth repeating.
I have also decided to amend the old adage that first children are like the first batch of cookies - they never turn out quite right. I have decided that they are also the most enjoyable. :-)
Sunday, October 28, 2007
Of castles, crypts and coffee
Studying in Paris is a rather odd situation to be in because every day I have to make a choice between being a good student and taking advantage of the fact that I'm in one of the most interesting cities in the world. The result is that I go around with the vague sense of guilt - either because I know I'm slightly to significantly behind on schoolwork or because I know I'm passing up a fabulous cultural opportunity.
But just to set the record straight - I do go to class here! I'm basically taking three classes - a French grammar class, a class on French immigration, and a class on francophone African literature. These are more fuzzy classes than I am comfortable with, and in French, which makes it even more difficult to get through all of the readings and papers. :-)
And on to the things that are making me behind in class!
France really likes its strikes. I think I've mentioned this before. Some of them are really annoying - like the strikes on the metro and the trains and Air France. Others are ridiculously funny. One of the funny ones took place this Wednesday. The medical interns in Paris and the surrounding areas went on strike. I'm not sure what exactly they were striking for - something about no choice in where they work and the privatization of health care. What they did, though, was to put on their white lab coats with signs saying "interns on strike" and march through one of the main streets in Paris. They filled the streets! Every 100 meters or so they had a truck playing music, or a Stanford-style marching band (complete with painted tubas). It looked more like a party than a strike, to be honest. My favorite part (which I did not photograph, sadly) was one of them wearing a sign that said "future doctor" with a cigarette in one hand and a 2 liter of Coca-Cola in the other.
On Thursday morning, I tagged along with another Stanford class up to la Basilisque de Saint Denis, one of the patron saints of Paris. I've seen a good number of churches in and around Paris all of a sudden, and this one is my favorite. The walls are almost all stained glass windows, with really vibrant colors and images. It also is historically the burial ground of French kings and their family, so in the crypt and around the front of the church there are lots of varied memorials to centuries of French kings, queens and progeny. Including Marie Antoinette, although hers is not particularly elaborate...
Friday afternoon I went to a very chic salon de thé called Angela across from the Tuileries where (apparently) all of the Parisian socialites used to take their afternoon tea, though it's now a bit of a tourist attraction. I ordered my first Parisian café au lait and my friend Jennifer who I went with ordered their signature tea. We felt very sophisticated sitting there in this beautiful room.
Saturday afternoon, I went to Vaux-le-Vicomte with Jennifer. Vaux-le-Vicomte is a very beautiful château south-east of Paris built by Louis XIV's financial minster. Louis XIV was so impressed by its elegance that he arrested his finance minister to take possession of the château himself, and then proceeded to hire the same architects to design a new château specifically for himself (Versailles).
The grounds at Vaux-le-Vicomte are stunning. There's this pool probably about a half mile out from the château that was built to be a mirror for the building. Very cool.
The inside is also gorgeous - all the wood is painted with flowers and most of the walls have these exquisite tapestries hanging all over them. I have discovered since coming to Paris that I really rather like tapestries... I don't have a very good picture of the tapestries off my camera, but if I ever get around to taking pictures from other people's cameras I will post one!
But just to set the record straight - I do go to class here! I'm basically taking three classes - a French grammar class, a class on French immigration, and a class on francophone African literature. These are more fuzzy classes than I am comfortable with, and in French, which makes it even more difficult to get through all of the readings and papers. :-)
And on to the things that are making me behind in class!
France really likes its strikes. I think I've mentioned this before. Some of them are really annoying - like the strikes on the metro and the trains and Air France. Others are ridiculously funny. One of the funny ones took place this Wednesday. The medical interns in Paris and the surrounding areas went on strike. I'm not sure what exactly they were striking for - something about no choice in where they work and the privatization of health care. What they did, though, was to put on their white lab coats with signs saying "interns on strike" and march through one of the main streets in Paris. They filled the streets! Every 100 meters or so they had a truck playing music, or a Stanford-style marching band (complete with painted tubas). It looked more like a party than a strike, to be honest. My favorite part (which I did not photograph, sadly) was one of them wearing a sign that said "future doctor" with a cigarette in one hand and a 2 liter of Coca-Cola in the other.
On Thursday morning, I tagged along with another Stanford class up to la Basilisque de Saint Denis, one of the patron saints of Paris. I've seen a good number of churches in and around Paris all of a sudden, and this one is my favorite. The walls are almost all stained glass windows, with really vibrant colors and images. It also is historically the burial ground of French kings and their family, so in the crypt and around the front of the church there are lots of varied memorials to centuries of French kings, queens and progeny. Including Marie Antoinette, although hers is not particularly elaborate...
Friday afternoon I went to a very chic salon de thé called Angela across from the Tuileries where (apparently) all of the Parisian socialites used to take their afternoon tea, though it's now a bit of a tourist attraction. I ordered my first Parisian café au lait and my friend Jennifer who I went with ordered their signature tea. We felt very sophisticated sitting there in this beautiful room.
Saturday afternoon, I went to Vaux-le-Vicomte with Jennifer. Vaux-le-Vicomte is a very beautiful château south-east of Paris built by Louis XIV's financial minster. Louis XIV was so impressed by its elegance that he arrested his finance minister to take possession of the château himself, and then proceeded to hire the same architects to design a new château specifically for himself (Versailles).
The grounds at Vaux-le-Vicomte are stunning. There's this pool probably about a half mile out from the château that was built to be a mirror for the building. Very cool.
The inside is also gorgeous - all the wood is painted with flowers and most of the walls have these exquisite tapestries hanging all over them. I have discovered since coming to Paris that I really rather like tapestries... I don't have a very good picture of the tapestries off my camera, but if I ever get around to taking pictures from other people's cameras I will post one!
Thursday, October 25, 2007
Ok photos of things that aren't food
I did in fact increase the number of photos taken (and otherwise acquired), and here are the fruits of my labor!
First, this is a picture of me right outside La Comédie Française. I am bundled up in preparation for a long walk (or, as it turned out, half a walk) home.
Here is a photograph of the inside of Le Bon Marché. Right after I took this picture, a sales lady came over to tell me that I'm not allowed to take pictures. "Bon marché" means "cheap," but this store is the most expensive department store in Paris. It's basically a clothes museum.
And now we get to photos of Provence! This is a picture of me and Rachel standing in front of the ruins of a Roman (!) theater in Arles. France is old...
Below is a picture of the town of Gordes. The town is built into the side of a hill/mountain. All the fields around here grow lavender and lavanda. The air smelled amazing.
And then we went to the nearby village of Ruissillon, where they have ochre cliffs.
Ruissillon is probably the cutest village we saw. The sign below says: "Please respect the vine, which is 150 years old. Do not pick the bunches of grapes. This vine is sacred."
Ok, how cute is this town?
And then there was Avignon. So, there's a children's song about Avignon - specifically about dancing on the bridge there. Here you have the Rhône River, with the Pont d'Avignon. And then "on" the pont, or above it, you have 3 ladies dancing. So that kind of counts, right?
First, this is a picture of me right outside La Comédie Française. I am bundled up in preparation for a long walk (or, as it turned out, half a walk) home.
Here is a photograph of the inside of Le Bon Marché. Right after I took this picture, a sales lady came over to tell me that I'm not allowed to take pictures. "Bon marché" means "cheap," but this store is the most expensive department store in Paris. It's basically a clothes museum.
And now we get to photos of Provence! This is a picture of me and Rachel standing in front of the ruins of a Roman (!) theater in Arles. France is old...
Below is a picture of the town of Gordes. The town is built into the side of a hill/mountain. All the fields around here grow lavender and lavanda. The air smelled amazing.
And then we went to the nearby village of Ruissillon, where they have ochre cliffs.
Ruissillon is probably the cutest village we saw. The sign below says: "Please respect the vine, which is 150 years old. Do not pick the bunches of grapes. This vine is sacred."
Ok, how cute is this town?
And then there was Avignon. So, there's a children's song about Avignon - specifically about dancing on the bridge there. Here you have the Rhône River, with the Pont d'Avignon. And then "on" the pont, or above it, you have 3 ladies dancing. So that kind of counts, right?
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