A Country Bumpkin in Paris

Peur du jour- 21 Mai 2012: Making a fool of myself

In this episode of European Travels with Kathleen, we find our main character in the Charles de Gaulle Marriot on the eve of her homecoming.

My dad was too good to me. With a flight out of Paris at noon, I knew I was going to have to already be in Paris the night before. I was seriously considering spending the night at the airport to save some money and to avoid the hassle of dragging five months of belongings through the Paris metro system. But, Dad was generous and put me up in the Marriot where I have a real bed, wifi, and a fitness center (free weights and a balance ball for the first time in months!!!).

Home sweet home

But, it quickly became clear to me that I have no idea how hotels work. I must not stay in nice ones very often. Or maybe this hotel is just special. But you have to use your key card for everything. I completely missed the sign in the elevator saying that you have to insert your key to select your floor and was corrected by a bellboy and two American businessmen after I missed my floor. Then I couldn't figure out why none of the lights or electrical sockets in my room were working. I went down to the front desk (because even the phone was out of order) and told them (in French) that the electricity wasn't working... He chuckled at me and asked "did you use your card?" There's a card holder near the light switch that activates all of the lights and electricity.

I'm that clueless girl that gives everyone a reason to laugh. De rien.

"Amen" is always the same

Peur du jour- 20 Mai 2012: German Mass

About four months ago, I went to my first mass in French. And I was terrified. On my morning walk to mass in the small Bavarian town of Lupburg, I experienced similar anxiety. Only this time, I was going to mass in a language which I don't speak at all (other than ein bier, bitte or danke or tschüss). Luckily, God blessed me with a few German friends in Montpellier who helped me prepare for this very mass.

In comparison with what I came to know in France, German mass much more closely resembles American mass.

• It has the same sense of order concerning the procession for the Eucharist, the kneeling/sitting/standing business, and the communication of hymnal pages (they had a cool light up board in the front of the church so I didn't even have to try to interpret numbers!). This organization does not surprise me at all; I've already waxed poetic about the trains. 

German Church in Lupburg

French Cathedral in Montpellier

• The architectural style is completely different from what I experienced in France. White walls instead of stone; natural light instead of colored.

• Similar demographics. There were lots of children and families (so I definitely didn't feel like an outlier skewing the average age). This is likely because Catholicism is a lot stronger in this region. In Bavaria, I see the stations of the cross along the walking trails. In Montpellier, it seemed like more people were "PACS"ed (a type of civil union) than were married.

But I also noticed some differences:

• Much less singing than in American or French masses.
• Like French mass, worship is more personal (vs. communal) in the manner that no one holds hands during the "Our Father" and the exchange of peace seemed to be confined to those sitting only to your left and to your right. I think this probably goes back to the fact that Americans tend to be much more touchy-feely.
• Mass in general seemed to be a little more formal. There's the manner of dressing which in general tends to be less casual in Europe. Also, I noticed that everyone in mass always had their hands folded in prayer which seems a little stricter than the US and far stricter than France.

So I think that in addition to having caught the travel bug this semester, I've caught the Catholic-comparison bug. It's so incredible to me how the slight variations in the rhythm and customs of a mass can be such a manifestation of regional and national culture. I can't wait to keep exploring, but in the mean time, I'd love to hear about your experiences in masses around the world in the comments!

Guten appetit!

Peur du jour- 16 Mai 2012: Conceding

 On Wednesday mornings, the bread truck comes. Around 8:30, we heard a loud honk announcing its arrival. I watched the neighbors crowd around the back of the truck in the brisk gray morning similar to the way kids crowd around the side of an ice cream truck.

Now, I thought that I had earned the right to be a pastry snob. France does millefeuilles and réligeuses and pains au chocolat and escargots brioches and and croissants aux amandes and every other delicious thing you could imagine. What on earth could possibly come off the back of a German truck that could be tastier than what you purchase straight from the oven in France?

I stood deliriously corrected.

So delicious I didn't even want to take it out of my lap to photograph it.

The Germans understand that the chocolate is the best part of a pain au chocolat. So not only is the whole thing FILLED with Schokolade, but also the ends are dipped in it. The end result: chocolate with every bite. I feel cheated by those skimpy French pastries that contain only a single nugget of chocolate.

Deutschland ist wunderschön.

Ich spreche kein Deutsch

Peur du jour: 14 Mai 2012- Not speaking the language

So, I'm no longer in Montpellier, but I figured that you guys still might be interested in my travels! I'm currently spending a week in Bavaria with a friend from UNC and her wonderful family! Did you know that they don't, in fact, speak French here, but rather, German?

The small town of Lupburg, where my friend lives.

One of my friends who is a Deutschmeister back at UNC gave me some helpful phrases to use during my stay in the land of beer and sausage: hello, thank you, you're welcome, I'd like, etc. Unfortunately, I kind of forgot to write all of these phrases down and learn them before I went out to interact with natives. So we ended up at a bäckerei (bakery) pointing at donuts saying "ein". Oh, goodness.

Luckily, we walked out with these. Not too shabby.

Later I committed myself to learning the phrases my friend had taught me, refreshing my German numbers, and learning the days of the week (I don't know why I would need to know that, but it could come in handy). It's pretty humbling to be in a country where you don't speak the language. It's not that they don't speak English, but it's a big jump from France, where I felt like I could really grasp the culture and get around.

Bavarian farm fields

But I'm quite taken with Germany, so add Deutsch to the growing list of languages I'd like to learn.

The good in goodbye

Peur du jour- 13 Mai 2012: Leaving Montpellier

 This was a hard and long goodbye. It felt worse than leaving Grayslake on a hot and humid August morning in 2010 to start my Freshman year of college. I remember weeping over the distance between me and my friends, my family, my boyfriend, my pets, everything that was comfortable, and everything that I had mastered.

It felt worse than driving away from Chapel Hill on that rainy night in December 2011 when I got sentimental about leaving my dorm, my friends, my classes, that beautiful campus, and the home I had managed to build. I was scared about how everything would change without me, about being left behind, about losing my place in everyone's lives after being absent for so long.

It even felt worse than hugging my mom goodbye at O'Hare on a snowy evening this past January. I was heart-broken, scared, and completely clueless of what lie ahead of me.

But in all of these instances, I was leaving something old for something new. I knew when I would return to my loved ones, to my homes. But this goodbye is different. I'm not going anywhere new; I'm going home. I get to see my parents, my siblings, my best friends, my cat, my house, my stomping grounds. I'm going back to where they speak English and where ice cream is cheap and abundant and where smiling like a goon in public is no weirder than hugging your friend hello or excessively saying "sorry" for everything.

But I'm scared that after the hugs and the ice cream, all I'll be able to think about is Montpellier. The town where I realized how God has graced me with family all over the world. The town where I realized that my level of French is strong enough for me to make friends who have never heard me speak English, participate in religious discussions, stand up to rude bouncers, and write ten page research papers. The town where I learned to appreciate moving slower, drinking in everything around me, and enjoying good company, good food, and good wine. The town where I really experienced true joy.

I am leaving this town at the height of my passion for it. It's only now starting to come alive, to become warm and green, to become Montpellier at its best. I feel like I'm cutting off something too soon, like I will never really know how great things could have been because my stay was only four and a half months.

And I don't know when I'm coming back. But there's joy in the unknown. I don't know when I'm coming back. It could be in ten years (I really hope not), it could be after I graduate, or it could be next summer. Who knows? My life is wide open. Opportunities are ripe for the picking. I know that my desire to keep the friends and family I've found in France is strong enough to bring me back to them. I'll leave the when and the how to figure out another day. Until then, I'll hold the feeling of the Montpellier sunshine close to my heart.

Wanna play ball?

Peur du jour- 11 Mai 2012: More interaction with strangers

So today was an absolutely gorgeous sunny day that a large group of us decided to spend à la plage (at the beach)! I packed a totally French picnic lunch (baguette, cheese, grape tomatoes, apple, and rosé) and took the tram and the bus over to Palavas-les-flots, the cute beach town to which I biked in March.

We had an excellent time picnicking in the sun, lounging in the soft sand, and going as far as we dared into the water that was full of crabs and jellyfish (another peur du jour). But we had a hankering to play some beach sports: soccer, volleyball, anything! Without the proper equipment for these sports (aka: a ball) we were left to stare longingly at the fields of sand that would be perfect for a little healthy competition. We finally spotted a group of what must have been high school boys with a volleyball, but no one was courageous enough to go over and ask if they wanted to play.

Looking back on it, I still have no idea why I get so nervous to talk to people. But I threw the fear of rejection aside and asked if they wanted to play volleyball with us. And they said yes. And we had a great match!

Kathleen, when will you learn to not be such a scaredy cat?

Nothing Gold Can Stay

Peur du jour - 1 Mai 2012: Ignoring the temporal nature of my stay...

Okay. I'm just going to be completely honest. I've experienced a complete drop in work ethic this past week. It probably has to do with the realization that my time in Montpellier is ticking down (it's definitely not May, by the way. Not possible.). Ne vous inquiétez pas, I'm going to study for my exams and get all of my work done and it will all be fine and dandy.

The product of flower-gathering with Colette

I'm just taking a few pit stops along the way.

These are a few of my favorite things.

And I'm pretty sure that's what I wanted to learn how to do this semester, anyways... Life is about smelling the roses, eating good cheese, basking in the sun, laughing with your friends, and appreciating the God-given blessings around you.

This is what picnic-ing with friends should look like.

So, each of the past five days has been jam-packed with life: spending the entire afternoon with friends at a café, re-exploring the streets of Montpellier in good company, picking flowers and learning their names in French, giving piggy-back rides, playing baseball and volleyball and soccer, dancing without inhibition, picnicking in Peyrou.

Love these girls. Especially in the MPL soleil.

I knew I'd be saying this, but I don't want to ever leave France.

Once again embracing the golden retriever

Peur du jour - 30 Avril 2012: Sharing American Culture

So yesterday at the lycée where I volunteer we had our journée americaine (America day). My fellow American students helped to plan and lead a day full of cultural workshops for the English classes here.  We split into about five teams, each one composed of both American and French students. The team captains (the Americans) had to wear different colored bandanas. We were team "Yellow Submarine." Cute, n'est pas?


We had a dance workshop where two Americans thought dances like the Cupid Shuffle, the Soulja Boy, and the Dougie.

Cupid Shuflin'

We had a baseball workshop lead by the Montpellier Baracudas (the baseball team in Montpellier).

Me, stepping up to the plate

We had an quiz on American trivia and music at which the French students did surprisingly well. They knew a lot about American geography, politics, and pop culture!

In the spirit of America, our kids were very competitive

The consul from the American consulate in Marseilles came to share a word about the importance of sharing and understanding different cultures.

The cafeteria even made an American style lunch for all of us! We had chicken wings, "country potatoes", chocolate milk, cookies, and "sundaes" (little ice cream cups). There were still, however, baguettes, French style appetizers, and real silverware and plates. Much nicer than my high school cafeteria.

A very delicious meal

We had an art workshop where we made pieces in the style of Keith Haring, an American artist. We traced the forms of each other and then designed the interior and the exterior in contrasting colors. This was probably the most fun I've had in a long time. The kids were SO creative and it has probably been at least a decade since I've gotten to have arts and crafts time (other than my stress-time coloring books).

We didn't get time to finish, but I still think it's pretty cool!

It was really fun to get to know some of the students I work with better. It also felt pretty good to just be our goofy, kind of loud, enthusiastic American selves. While in Montpellier, I've really tried to make a connection with the natives around me. Even though this day was kind of about us, I still really felt that we connected with French culture. Our students taught us a French dance, we got to see more about French high schools, and we got to just hang out with the students and talk with them. It was a very long and tiring day, but one of my best in Montpellier! (and that rhymed!)

Tongue Tied

Peur du jour- 29 Avril 2012: Accepting correction with humility

The great thing about kids is that they are straight-talkers. If they notice something that is out of accordance with what they know, they don't hesitate to remark about it.

This characteristic of children is what led me to realize a flaw in some of the things I've been saying in French. There is a vowel complexity that can be particularly tricky for Americans which shows itself in the past participial of the verb courir (to run), "couru".

I can't tell you how many times I've used this word with my host mother. I run every day, but never in my nearly four months here has she corrected me. The second I used this word with some children from my church, however, they were all over it.

"Repeat after me. Cou-ru. No. Cou-ru. No. Cou-ru. No not couru, couru!"

I attempted to repeat after them for several minutes. Incredibly frustrating. But now I whisper this word as I walk to myself in the streets (definitely keeps the crazies away). And I'm thankful that they had no shame in shaming me. Because that's how we learn.

We don't need no (French) education

Peur du jour- 24 Avril 2012: Final exam at the French University at la journée americaine

So today I took my first (and only) exam for my history/geography course at Paul Val. Gross.

Let's not even talk about how this exam was at 8:15 (INSANELY early by French standards) the Tuesday after a two week break. Thankfully, I had already planned to be back by last Friday to recuperate, so I did have time to study hard for three days. But, as I am the type of student that usually starts studying a week in advance for regular tests and TWO weeks for finals (yeah, go ahead and tape the "kick me" sign to my back, I'm a nerd), I was still really stressed.

Not to mention that I wasn't really sure what I was supposed to be studying. I had asked the professor, but he said that it wouldn't be fair to give me any sort of direction. Really, France? In the end I ended up going through my notes and trying to organize it into outline form so I could catch the big themes and memorize some small details/examples.

So the morning rolled around. I left super early to avoid being late due to any tram delays and breezed past the students enjoying a pre-exam cigarette outside the classroom. The prof passed out some scratch paper and the French equivalent of blue books (at least I didn't have to pay for it like at UNC! Silver lining.) and then began to explain the exam.

Because this class was taught by two professors, they thought it necessary to have two different essay prompts (normal). They had both professors develop a subject (also normal), but did not feel that there would be enough time for each student to answer both questions (okay). So, they divided the class up into two groups by last name (getting wonky) and then proceeded to have one student from the first group draw a subject from a hat (seriously?). As the French student deciding my fate walked to the front of the room, Jason was muttering "this would never happen in America," and I was singing the Price is Right theme (COME ON DOWN!).

I ended up getting the subject for the professor that I've been whining about all semester. On top of that, we recieved the prompt via dictation (here's to hoping I didn't mishear a word!). In a fortunate turn of events, however, it was the prompt I felt more comfortable with. In fact, it was the last section of notes I had read before getting off the tram to walk to campus. Not that I know how I'm going to be graded, but I didn't feel that the exam itself was that hard. I had an hour and a half to answer one essay question--kid's stuff compared to my poli and history exams at UNC.

I only need a 9 (maybe I'll talk about the French grading scale in a cultural lesson) to get credit at UNC. And if not, at least I got some great stories out of this class and a deep appreciation for my home institution.

An energizer bunny in Paris

Peur du jour- 19 Avril 2012: Being a traveling machine

On this day in Paris, I literally did not sit down for more than five minutes until my metro ride back to the hostel at 11 pm at night. I ate all three meals sur le pouce (on the go, literally "on the thumb") while walking from destination to destination. I may have felt like I was going to collapse at the end of the day, but I got to do everything in Paris I had planned to do. Worth it.


We spent about three hours at la tour eiffel waiting in line to go to the top and enjoying the beautiful views!

La Tour Kathleen

 We walked from la tour eiffel to le louvre because it was such a beautiful day! We stayed there until they literally herded us out at closing.

Lauren and I went to the extended hours at le musée d'orsay where we drooled over Monets and Renoirs and Degas and Manets and Sisleys and Gauguins and Seurats and Toulouse-Lautrecs until we were once again herded out at closing. Heaven.

Le Musée d'orsay is housed in an old train station

These magnificent clocks overlook la seine

We ended the night with a walk along the Seine and a viewing of la tour eiffel's light show.

Paris-ing in the Rain

Peur du jour- 18 Avril 2012: Ignoring physical discomfort

If there's anything worse than trying to discover a city in the rain, it's trying to discover a city in the pouring rain.

Unfortunately, a lot of my time in Paris was plagued by cold and wind and rain which left me really missing my rain boots, but really thankful that I remembered to bring an umbrella with me to France. Fortunately, Paris is not like the South of France which shuts down at the first sign of gray. People in the South are so accustomed to the sun that they just shut themselves indoors until those golden rays make their reappearance. Parisians are very much like Chicagoans; life goes on in sun, rain, and snow.

Some things I did in the rain: waited in line (outside) to climb Notre-Dame, wandered around le Quartier Latin down some streets a friend had recommended, took shelter in a wonderful cozy restaurant for lunch, took shelter under the awning of a delicious pastry shop while devouring a chocolately treat, did a quick run through les jardins de luxembourg, saw La Sarbonne, took shelter in Sainte-Chapelle (or the most beautiful church that ever was), grabbed a cup of hot chocolate in a café to thaw out, waited out the storm in a cozy Irish pub and had a really delicious crepe dinner.

Picture attack.

Notre-Dame pre-rain!

I like this one because it looks like he's about to eat la tour eiffel

There's a storm blowin'!

Les jardins de luxembourg- pouring at this point

Sainte-Chapelle (ignore the construction)

One great thing about rain is that all you want to do is sit in a warm restaurant and eat. Wednesday was definitely the day where I had the most food adventures in Paris! Regardez:

 At the end of the day, my freezing toes and sopping jeans were definitely worth it.

Le gare du nord? More like, la labyrinthe du nord!

Peur du jour- 17 Avril 2012: Navigating that thing they call a train station

So on this Tuesday morning, I woke up early to go fetch my friend Jack from the train station. I left myself plenty of time to stop by the bakery (friends who visit me in France get a complimentary pain au chocolat), take the 45 minute metro ride, and find the platform to be there when his train arrived.

Little did I know, le gare du nord is a maze of underground tunnels and misleading signs when you're coming from the metro station. I got off the metro and started following the signs to le gare when I ran into another line of ticket-takers. I had already swiped my ticket to get on the metro, so I thought those tickets must have been for the RER train or another line. Plan B brought me up the escalator and into the gray morning (note the weather change...). I was kind of just going with what I remembered seeing on maps and what I thought to be North and South when I picked which direction to start walking.

As it would happen, my often-excellent sense of direction was spot on and I made it to le gare in about three minutes. Inside, I started following the signs to les grandes lignes where my friend's train would come in. This sounds simple enough but for the fact that sometimes the signs would just disappear and you would have no idea whether to go up, down, left, right, forward, backward, diagonal, or what have you. At one point I was back in the metro and was forced to use a metro ticket to follow the grandes lignes signs.

Goodness gracious, Paris.

Naturally, as I fumbled around with escalators and hallways, I started imagining the worst. I wasn't sure that my friend would have a working cellphone and I wasn't even sure that he had put my number in his phone. What would happen if he got off the train and couldn't find me? How would we find each other? (Kathleen, stop freaking out.)

Eventually I resurfaced, found the platform, and bought some hot chocolate to hand to my sleep-deprived friend as he got off the train. And we had quite the lovely day (despite the pouring rain...)

Jack and me at Versailles! (in the rain)

Elyse and I doing a myspace style photo in the Hall of Mirrors

Slap happy after being so cold and wet...

And then it turned into a beautiful evening

Our view from the top of the arc de triomphe

Versailles was closed

Peur du jour- 16 Avril 2012: Being flexible

On Monday, Elyse and I had planned to spend a wonderful day at Versailles. We stopped by the boulangerie (bakery) on the way to the metro to get breakfast (pastries and baguettes... being poor sure is delicious!) and a picnic lunch (sandwhiches! yum!) to enjoy in the beautiful gardens of Versailles. When we got to Versailles, we quickly found the chateau and excitedly made our way to the tourist office to buy tickets. But when I asked for our free student tickets, the woman behind the counter gave me a blank stare and said "you know that the castle is closed today, right?"

D'oh.

So Elyse and I wandered into a Starbucks in search of free wifi so we could salvage our day and get on with the adventuring! It always throws me through a loop when plans fall through because I plan EVERYTHING, so then I have to change all of the plans that were around the original plans. But one of my goals in coming to France was to become a little more go-with-the-flow, so that's what Elyse and I did! We took the train back to Paris and shuffled a few items in the week around and this is what my day ended up looking like:

While waiting to meet up with Lauren, we ate our sandwiches on the steps of Montmartre with a spectacular view of Paris, sunshine on our faces, and the melodies of quintessentially French songs being played by a harpist in our ears.

Sacre-Coeur

 We wandered from Sacre-Coeur to les jardins de Tuileries where we stopped by Angelina's for the best cup of hot chocolate in Paris.

Angelina's hot chocolate = like drinking brownies straight from the oven

We walked les jardins de Tuileries from start to finish

Lauren and Me; Le musée du Louvre- one end of les tuileries

 We walked to the place where the guillotine sat during the French revolution.

La place de la concorde

 We took a stroll down Paris's most famous street.

Il y a tout ce que vous voulez aux champs-elysées

 We marveled at one of Paris's most iconic monuments

L'arc de triomphe

 And then we marveled at another one.

Elyse and me; La tour Eiffel

Basically, Paris wooed me with its history and charm and nice weather (even if it was only for that day!). Which I had really been needing. Paris, je t'aime.

The Paris Metro

Peur du jour- 15 Avril 2012: (Successfully) Navigating the Paris Metro on my lonesome

It's always a little unnerving when you are navigating a new area on your own. It's a little more unnerving when this area is congested and complex. It's even more unnerving when you've heard about everything that could go wrong (in this case: pick pockets and not going the wrong direction and getting horribly lost).

But I am here to tell you that the Paris metro is not so scary. After my six hour train ride from Nice to Paris, I groggily entered the bowels of the city (the metro, not the sewers). I even figured out how to buy tickets in one try! Nothing was stolen from me. I was not attacked. I didn't miss my stop. I didn't get lost. All in all a very boring story.

And sometimes it's better that way.

St. Jean Cap Ferrat: Where dreams come true

Peur du jour- 14 Avril 2012: Jumpin' on the back of a moped

So it was definitely on my unofficial bucket list to ride on a moped while in France. I guess it's kind of silly, but, like snails and frogs legs and accordion music and berets and baguettes, it's just something I associate with France. And I want to do everything French (even the things that are quasi-french).

So when Marc and Tammy found this out, they wanted to make sure I got to do it! It rained a lot of the week, so we kept putting it off for Saturday when the weather was supposed to be nice.

It rained all day Saturday.

I was trying to be cheerful, but I just knew I wasn't going to get to do my moped ride (I'm so silly, I know!). But finally, as the day was drawing to a close, I asked if it would still be possible despite the rain. And Marc was kind enough to humor me and take me for my ride. We rode around St.Jean Cap Ferrat looking at the beaches and all of the fancy houses (Paul Allen has a house there!).

And even though my face was being pelted with rain, it was still really fun to buzz around the winding mountain roads with an unobstructed view of the sea. And I looked pretty cute in the helmet.

When in Italy...

Peur du jour- 13 Avril 2012: Crossing the border

So this is another one of those peur du jours that isn't actually a fear I had to overcome. What anxieties could I possibly have about going to a huge market in Italy? Niente. Italian markets are just as wonderful as French markets

These strawberries smelled out of this world!

Well hello there, gorgeous

It's funny how you can take a thirty minute train ride and actually feel like you are in a different country. Tammy told me that since they have opened the borders, the contrasts are not as stark, but the signs and announcements are still in Italian, the market is full of pasta and parmasean cheese and foccacia, and the third color on the flag is green.

Scrumptious

Parmesan and Sausages 

Desserts, Italian Style

We also had a wonderful Italian lunch: pizza, wine, profiteroles, and a complimentary limoncello.

Italian Wine- I prefer French!

Delicious Pizza

Profiteroles (Cream puffs, normally in France they aren't slathered with chocolate mousse, but these were delicious!)

On the contrary, I prefer Italian coffee to French coffee!

Limoncello

But at the end of the day, it's nice to come back to a country where I speak the language. I could tell my "grazi"s and "bonjourno"s wouldn't get me much farther than the few hours I spent there.