The beginning of the end: Paper Plates

Tonight we reserved the pool house of one of the bars in Centre Ville and hung out for three hours, giving out our end-of-the-semester "paper plate awards."

I was awarded first with a "golden ticket," a plate with an old tram ticket stuck to it. Me and everyone else who had been caught riding without a ticket.

I was also given "best blog," a semi-compliment but mostly a sarcastic reminder of the not-so-smart way I went about writing my first few blog posts here, which ended up sounding a lot more...let's just say judgmental than I had ever intended. (Still sorry!) While I would have preferred for that mistake and the memory of it to slowly die, it was all in good fun and quite frankly I deserved it. There were many, many hard but necessary lessons learned here, and that was just one of them. (Good thing they didn't hear about my issues in England, I'm sure I would have gotten "most likely to be deported." Still bitter.)

I was also given most lively (lovely?) scavenger. Because I'm the strange one who eats random crap off of trees. Okay...that's fair, I accept.

And also most likely to get kicked out of a museum from Brooke, from that time we got yelled at for eating figs off a tree in a museum in Toulouse (see: plate number 3).

And from Nathalie :), best friend in stressful situations without killing each other. Because we were in many stressful situation and did not kill each other.

And...sigh, I mean, we all saw it coming: most likely to eat out of a can.

So in conclusion: I am a non-law-abiding hobo with bad blog etiquette. Sounds about right, although I think I've cleaned up my act in the blogging category (still tons of typos though, I keep rereading old posts and catching them, blah). And after having a three-day long stomach ache I think I'm going to cool it with the canned food/preservatives in general. I will, however, continue to eat random crap off of trees, that will not stop.

Overall it was a hilarious night full of stories, ones some of us had never heard, others we had all forgotten about. I was laughing the whole time. Half a year ago I had no idea these people existed, and it's been fantastic getting to know all of them. It'll be weird not having any of them around.

 As I've said time and time again, I'm torn between here and home. Nights like these remind me how much I like the people here, how much I wish I had been more social and outgoing. But at the same time I'm kind of done with Troilet. I got used to it well enough that I can tolerate it just fine, but I never quite got comfortable here. In any case, I'm glad I decided to hit the accept button that one day on the UW campus so many months ago. Good job old me, you made a good choice.

Now: time to pack for one last trip to Belgium and go to sleep.

Done!

Goodbye finals! It feels fantastic to finally be done.

A few days ago I got a horrible migraine that left me capable of doing little more than lying on my bed and showering myself with self-pity. And on top of that I think I got some food poisoning or something because my stomach hasn't stopped hurting in the past three days, so I haven't been able to eat much. Which, while a nice break from my usual pre-finals eat-until-I-feel-sick ritual, only made my headache worse.

So overall it was a bit of a struggle. My history final was really stressful. I picked a question out of a paper bag, had 15 minutes to prepare, then presented for 15. I was so nervous I'm pretty sure I said the same thing at the beginning of each sentence.

But I'm done, and it's great. Now I get to prepare for Brussels and my flight home for Christmas!! I was looking at my planner and on December 23rd I had written "Going home! Can you believe you did it?!" No, me from half a year ago, I can't.

Now if only my stomach would go back to digesting properly, everything would be perfect.

Two Weeks?!

Yes, the last post was about leaving, and so is this one. Hope you like repetitiveness.

I looked at my calendar today and I have exactly two weeks before I get on a plane to get back home. I can't believe I've been gone for almost half a year. I remember preparing to leave (the nerves!), the beginning (préstage was fantastic) and the last few weeks really well, everything in between, however, has blurred together and it seems like it all passed so quickly (everybody together now: "I told you so!"). Tomorrow I start my finals (ugh... this is going to be interesting, to say the least), then go on one last trip to Brussels, come home, pack all night, and leave Triolet (and then I don't leave France until almost a week later...it's complicated).

I'll keep it short, I'm sure I'll have a lot of sappy stuff to say after finals and our last get-together before people start to leave, or when the train departs from Montpellier and I won't see this place again...maybe forever, or when I fly out of this country I've called home for the last few months, so I'll save it.

For now I'll just say that I'm incredibly torn. When I'm stressed trying to study for exams, or eating beans straight out of the can for the millionth time, or having to push a button every 30 seconds to take a shower; those are the times I can't wait to go home and celebrate Christmas, be with my family, curl up in my own bed. And then sometimes I help an old French woman who is lost, or go out for a run (finally started that thing again) and go to Comédie, or realize how great it is being able to study outside in the sun in the middle of December, among other things, and I realize how sad I'll be leaving. I go back an forth several times a day. It's weird.

Thinking about leaving...

My feelings on leaving Montpellier have been all over the place. When I first started thinking about it a month ago I wanted to stay. Then a couple weeks ago I started wanting to go home. I miss my family and my dog and being able to do laundry in an hour or two (washing AND drying). I was just watching a Yale history lecture on YouTube to try to study for one of my finals and all of the sudden I missed: a) being able to understand everything a professor is saying and b) being in a good school. I maybe haven't had the best UW experience, but their academics are without question better than Paul Valery. I miss having an actual bedroom, a kitchen with a table to eat at, and a bathroom (in three separate rooms). I miss carpet, being able to drive to the grocery store and buying enough for the whole week instead of lugging groceries home every 3 or 4 days. There are a lot of little things. Most of all, going home means finals are over. This semester... I'm telling you it's going to take a miracle and a half to get me through these exams.

Then today I started thinking about leaving. Not just vaguely, but actually envisioning myself hugging everyone goodbye and what I'll say and closing my Triolet door for the last time and handing over the keys and getting on the airplane and watching France disappear under me. Saying goodbye to these amazing four and a half months I've had here and going back to same old same old. No more weekend trips, no more running into friends on campus (at least not as frequently), no more excuses for crappy class notes (uhh... I didn't understand it), or putting off thinking about graduating. No more making fun of the French with a bunch of people who really get it, (one of our favorite pastimes).

I think I'll really miss really feeling myself progress in French. I'll miss the challenge that comes with having a conversation with someone here. Or that silly little bit of pride I still feel when I can order or ask or explain something without any mistakes.

I keep remembering my time here in flashbacks. A trip from préstage, sitting on the steps sharing a bottle of wine, getting lost on the way to class, a particular day we sat outside of Ionesco when it was still warm and talked, a night out.

It'll be tough to leave. I'm not sure how I'll feel on the 23rd when I step back onto US soil.

I did a lot of things wrong my first few years of college, I gave up a lot of opportunities for stupid reasons. I have a lot of regrets from those years. So I'm really glad I did this before I lost the chance.

Random insignificant story (wow, I'm really sellin' this aren't I?)

Today was one of those (increasingly) rare days where I went for a run. I've been feeling sort of...meh lately, I didn't want to study, and it was a gorgeous day out, so I made myself go. I went on some random street I'd never been on, and stumbled upon Montferrier, an adorable little town on a hill. I stole this photo off Google. I'm bummed I didn't bring my own camera though, it was gorgeous. It was one of those places you would need to live here to discover.

Thanksgiving: Triolet style

How does one do Thanksgiving without an oven? Without turkey? Without pumpkin pie? Without cranberries in any form? Without a proper room to eat in? Without a table?

One improvises. 

I had posted something on our Facebook group's page a couple days earlier about organizing something, but honestly I wasn't sure it was going to work out. But it did :) And I'm really glad, it would have been depressing otherwise. All the Triolet people came out, most of us cooked something, and we ate in the hallway. Lots of chaos, lots of eating, even that cheesy "everyone go around and say what you're thankful for" thing. In short: we managed to have an (almost real) Thanksgiving. 

I cooked. And it was good. This never happens!

Very, very crowded

Vin? Vin? Anyone need more vin?

I'm so thankful to have had the opportunity to study abroad, to have met so many great people, and for all the life lessons it has given me. Who knew that seven years ago when I started taking French I was setting myself up for this? Its had its stressful moments, but not once have I regretted coming here. 

Greves...encore des greves

School was shut down once again today. I think I've missed like...three weeks of history? And before that we had a break and a three-day weekend so it feels like I never go to that class. It feels like I never go to class period.

I think I have a better idea of why the students are complaining (besides the fact that they're French). One of their campuses in Beziers is being shut down and they also are unable to admit as many students to their Montpellier campus anymore.

Let me explain something: in France, as long as you pass the Bac, the test everyone takes their senior year of high school, you can go to college. After the first year though a huge percentage of French students drop out. You also have to take into account that students in France pay next to nothing, they get subsidized housing and subsidized meals, they can often get additional help with housing through CAF, and I'm pretty sure on top of that they can also get a monthly allowance, but don't quote me on that last one.

So the government is essentially paying for thousands of students that won't even make it past year one. That's a lot of money wasted on former students who really have nothing more to offer the country economically than a high-school graduate.

And we wonder why their economy sucks?

Needless to say, most of the anglophone students are annoyed. Never having class is getting a bit old, and being handed fliers for a cause we quite frankly can't help but laugh at is irritating.

Oh France...

The importance to being warm...and Christmas. In short: Strasbourg (and Germany...well, sort of)

This weekend was spent in Strasbourg and (sort or) Germany. I'll explain. This is going to be a long one. I tried to cut down the photos, although there are still a ton. 

Strasbourg reminded me what it feels like to be cold. Like...really cold. The kind of cold that makes you sure the marrow in your bones has turned into a Popsicle. I had been complaining about the "cold" in Montpellier...no, there is no cold here, I had forgotten what that even means.

Strasbourg also reminded me that Christmas is coming! It's home to one of the most famous Christmas markets in Europe, which, unfortunately, doesn't start until next weekend, but they had already started to decorate. 

We left on Thursday afternoon. We sat on a train for six hours. I tried to study, I failed to study. Nothing too eventful. We arrived pretty late at night with googlemaps directions in hand. Even in the dark the city was beautiful. The style is more German, which makes sense since the area has shifted between being a part of Germany and a part of France several times in its history. 

We wandered in the right direction for a bit until we got lost. We were on the right street but we couldn't find the right house number, so we walked back and forth, confused. And then randomly some guy walked by us, stopped, and asked if we needed help. "I like it when people help me when I travel, so I should help you."

Okay, the architecture is completely different, some of the street signs were in German, I had been on a train for six hours... yet it was this that made me feel like I had gone to another country. Random acts of kindness. Sorry French people, as a general whole you're not the most welcoming group I've ever met. In Strasbourg though, the people seemed a lot nicer. 

 The guy was with a group of friends, some on foot some on bikes, and they all literally walked us to the door. They even offered us a drink of what looked like juice. I don't think it was juice ...no thanks. Brooke and I kept looking at each other and laughing. (See my post from Barcelona...a similar thing happened to us when an old woman walked us to a Flamenco club). We got to our airbnb place - a nice room with five beds, a kitchen we could use, and a table to eat at like civilized people - and immediately went to sleep. 

The next day I demonstrated a serious lack of good judgement. I'm internally shaking my head at myself as I write this. We woke up and it was freezing cold and pouring rain. Brooke suggested we spend the morning in museums, but I had my heart set on walking to Germany. Yup...just a stroll to Germany. There's a small city names Kehl near the boarder of Germany, which is connected to France by the "Pont de L'Europe." (Apparently a lot of Strasbourgians go there for groceries because it's a lot cheaper, fun fact.) I didn't expect anything big, in all honesty I just wanted to be able to say I was in Germany. Originally we had wanted to rent a bike there, which are really cheap, and get there that way, but we decided not to in the rain. Walking? We had thick coats, she had an umbrella, I was from Seattle. Sure, let's do this. 

The lady at the tourism office had lied to us, the walk was not 45 minutes, as she had said. It was almost two hours. Within the first 15 minutes my socks were soaked. Within the first half hour I could no longer feel my feet. I progressively got wetter and wetter, more and more numb, and the parts of my body that I could feel were cold, they were very cold. I. Was. Miserable. I was motivated by the knowledge that this may be the only chance I get to do this, but I wanted nothing more that to sit inside a Starbucks for the rest of the weekend. 

So we trekked on...and on and on. And we finally made it. I would have liked to walk around, but at this point I was so cold I almost snuggled up next to the homeless man sleeping under the Pont de l'Europe. At least he had a blanket. So we were in Germany for maybe 10 minutes before heading back. We trammed part of the way. 

When we later told a couple people we had walked there, their eyes bugged out, they couldn't believe us. 

My feet were soaked and numb. I was actually getting a little worried about myself, so I made Brooke stop first at a gas station where I asked for some plastic bags, then a bar where I went into the bathroom and changed my socks, put my feet in the bags, and then put on my shoes. A brilliant idea for which I was constantly made fun of by Thomas when he found out. I don't care, I have no shame. That saved me from what I'm sure would have been frostbite. But I'm probably exaggerating...maybe. 

Getting ready for the Christmas market

Eglise Notre Dame - it was impossible to fit it all in one picture, I suggest googling it

More eglise

I told you they were nicer, even the tram welcomes you

Almost to Germany...Wet. Cold...but almost there

After nearly two hours of walking, the bridge!

...I have no idea. We saw them. We took pictures of them. 

Pont de l'Europe

On the left, Germany, on the Right, France. 

In Germany

 We got back, stepped into a cafe where I paid way too much for a coffee and warmed up a bit. Then we did the museum thing. Brooke wanted to go to Palais Rohan, more of an art museum, I was more interested in the museum of the history of Strasbourg, so I went there.

I think I've mentioned this before, but I've started to like museums. This one was particularly interesting. I like history, and the museum itself was really well-organized and interactive. I would suggest it. 

Eglise Notre Dame once again

More Christmas... I told you these would make up half the photos

Don't judge me, it was a survival move

A few photos from the history museum:

Fruit faces, one for each season

Printing Press in Strasbourg. Gutenberg lived there 

GOAT!! Seriously, everyhwere!

Am I sensing a little bit of propaganda? "It's chic to speak French"

A young student's notebook. First in German, as they were forced to during WWII, then in French, as Strasbourg was restored to France after the war

We met back up and found Thomas, who had come a day later. And then...soup. All I wanted in the world was the boiling hot soup and tea. We went to the store, bought food for dinner and breakfast, and came home. Boiled some boxed soup, threw in beans and frozen veggies and thawed our hands and feet while we ate.

At that point I was exhausted, but Brooke wanted to go out, and since I had semi-forced her to walk for two hours in the rain to Germany, it was only fair I go to a bar with her. This is sort of where it got interesting-bordering-on-creepy. We went to a bar the lady at our airbnb place had suggested, upstairs it was a bar, downstairs it had live music. 

You know in Yes Man when the main character finally says yes to going to that concert, the one that the kid with the fliers always standing outside his work keeps trying to convince him to go to? And the singer has that weird voice changer thing that makes her voice sound like an alien? (I think I'm thinking of the right movie...I hope). Yeah, this guy had one of those. It was bizarre. 

At one point a man in front of us turned around and we started talking. I figured any French practice is good practice, and he was nice enough. "Why don't we grab a table and sit down?" He asked. Okay, sure, I suppose. More French practice? 

It was a little awkward, speaking to a middle-aged French guy we had just met. He started "tu"-ing us (the informal), I wasn't sure if we should do the same...? I'm still not clear on when and how to vous-to-tu switch happens. Then he insisted on taking us to a tram stop so he could use the map show us how to get to where we wanted to go the next day. At one point I looked over at Brooke and whispered "I have pepper-spray," half-kidding, and he got in between us: "what?" 

"Oh...I was just saying it's nice to have a local show us around." *odd half-laugh*

Personally I thought he was harmless, just a little strange, but Brooke was getting freaked out, and so we said we were tired, we had to go, goodbye. And we went home where I dried my soaked clothes with a hair dryer. 

Typical travel stance...

civilized dinner

Our room

Ready for day two

Polish beer bottle...our airbnb people had good taste 

 Petite France

Getting ready for the market

The next day we got up, I put the bags on my feet again (shoes were still wet), and we went to go see Petite France. It's the picturesque part of the city (as if any part isn't). It was a little more Petite than we had expected, so we walked through it rather quickly, so we decided to go to another museum. Thomas went to the history one, Brooke and I went to the museum of Alsatian culture. I liked the history one better, but this one was good as well.

More prep work...

There was a little kid station where you could color and make a paper house... we are children apparently

Roasted chestnuts 

Then we walked to see the European Parliament, European Court of Human Rights, and the Council of Europe. Look at what a good international studies student I am, seeing all the political buildings and such.

Sorry Europe, but this string thing was a stupid idea. At first I was sure it was under construction, but apparently this is just their idea of decoration

European Court of Human Rights

 Outside of the court, attached to the railings on the other side, were a bunch of protest posters which I thought were really interesting:

And more Christmas preparations 

We came back, had lunch/dinner (...? it was 3 pm), and then went to see the Cathedral Notre Dame. Listen, I've seen a lot of churches here...like waaaaay too many, but this one is fabulous. The odd thing was the concert. There was some sort of a very loud, very annoying band playing inside. It completely clashed with the general atmosphere of the church. And the acoustics were all wrong and blegh. But I got to see the astronomical clock which was neat. It was dark so my pictures suck, google it.

After that we wandered into another church where there was a free concert (less annoying). We listened to a girl a year older than me sing opera. She was really good but it wasn't my cup of tea. It's one of those things my mom would have dragged me to and she would have loved while I would have sat there appreciated how good the performer was, but would be wishing for the end every second. (Okay..so maybe there were like one or two songs I actually liked...)

Inside the Eglise Notre Dame

They had a huge nativity scene set out. Sorry my camera isn't good in the dark, I didn't get a good shot of all of it. 

GOAT!

I don't know how this got so out of order. This is the astronomical clock

We went to the store for more soup, came back and stayed in. Brooke wanted to go out again, but I had had it with the cold, and I had been planning to start studying a little bit anyways (which inevitably failed). We ended up meeting a 23-year-old Canadian girl who had spent the last two years living in France. I was really curious and she told us all about it. We talked for something like an hour and a half, maybe two hours, before she went to sleep and we did the same. 

I couldn't really sleep though, which sucked.

The next morning we got up, went straight to the train station, and made the six-hour long journey back home. About 45 minutes away from Mont it started to get warm again, aaaahhhhh! I missed it! 

Overall the city was absolutely adorable. Even at those times when I was cold, wet, and hungry I still found it gorgeous. It looked a lot like Leavenworth...just way less cliche (but without that awesome mustard and hot shop store).