Perdu en traduction

Over the year, I have come accross several pretty fantastic mistranslations from french to english. I just came accross this beauty while researching hotels in Aix for dads visit, and thought i would share

Come to the Hotel of France, situated in the heart Of Aix-en-provence, will offer you all the enjoyments of an old Hotel of charm in a picturesque district.
In only 50m of the famous fountain of the Rotunda and in A parallel road in Mirabeau Courts, you will have meeting With the best restaurants, the monuments most Typical, shops, markets...
Aix-en-Provence reunites to her only a patrimony Exceptional, several days will be necessary for you for Make the tour.
Numerous festivals with international dimension, Unwind every year in the domains of the Lyric art, the dance, or still the cinema.
THE HOTEL of FRANCE will also be the ideal base for Shine on the region and discover Provence under its Multiple facets.
Situated at feet of the Mountain saint-Victoire, and in the North of Marseille, Offer an ideal position, between sea and mountain, enters city and Campaign.

one of my other favorites was a heading on a Paris menu:
Meats (cocked in sauce)

Spring

Its spring, and that means the tourists are arriving. There are suddenly a lot more people in the streets, and theyre paying much more attention to the buildings than to where theyre walking. Im already beginning to hear more english than french in the markets. The streets are hectic, workers are trying like made to finish all of the ongoing construction from this winter. They've cleaned a lot of the fountains and planted more flowers. There are tourist buses everywhere, and suddenly all of the restaurants are serving regional specials and the boutiques are offereing special deals on postcards. these deals, it turns out, arent actually that special.
The weather is wonderful- low 20s C, generally sunny, and with a pretty consistant wind. The wind makes wearing a skirt difficult, and tends to blow dust into your eyes.
There are flowers everywhere- poppies are springing up like mad, and the lilacs just finished blooming. When I went to L'ardeche, a region just north of here, there were roses in almost every yard. There was also a pink wildflower that was growing out of the stone walls and even, in several cases, on the tiled rooves.
At night i close the shutter but leave the window open, so i can hear the frogs croaking. They make for some pretty loud backgroud noises, and thats from my room on the 5th floor. street level and it sound like the construction workers left theyre equiptment running.
Ive also spotted several lizards.
And the fruit! Today i passed a fig tree that was loaded with little hard green knots that will soon be ripe delicious figs. There are cherries and peaches in the market -though theyre still ridiculously expensive. Asperigus and Artichokes have become my main source of green.
The only downside is the homework- in the next 5 or 6 weeks, I have 6 papers to write, a minimum total of 48 pages. in french of course. I console myself by taking my lap top to various cafés around town. I like to think of it as multitasking- enjoying the weather while dealing with the workload. But it always ends with me spending too much time people watching.
Life is so hard for a student in provence.

Parc Jordan

Parc Jordan is about a 6 minute walk from my dorm. Its not exceptionally large or remarkable. It is surrounded by a wrought iron gate, and there are several paths which cut through it, benches, trees, a statue or two. Its a little questionable at night, after the gate is locked. One evening I was walking home and I heard drums and shouting, and I thought I saw a group of people dancing towards the edge of the park. Another evening I saw a group of guys lined up, one at each gate post, peeing.
But during the afternoon there are usually groups of students in the park playing soccer, picnicing, playing the guitar, or just laying out. On sunny days it can be hard to find a good spot to lay out because there are so many people. A lot of them have books with them, most of them aren't reading. People walk their dogs their, or bring their kids there to play. Students like to be seen there sporting the latest fashions from Zara and smoking with friends. During the freak blizzard I went there and built a snowman with some friends, by the end of the day there were maybe a dozen snowmen throughout the park. I didnt get a chance to count them though, because a kid in the park started throwing snowballs at me.
I love this park.

SUCCESS!

Last week I went on a day trip with my friend Kiran. Kiran is an art history student from Rome who lives in my dorm. We bonded by cooking together in the dorm kitchen and talking about art, and decided to take our sketch books to Marseille. We stopped at the market and got some tunesian treats and ate a picnic lunch on the port. Then we settled down with our sketchbooks and drew the view of the cathedral which overlooks the boats and ports. It was a beautiful sunny day and we had a fantastic time. Kiran doesnt speak english, so we could only communicate in french. This limits conversation a bit, and it took a lot of concentration to both draw and sketch. But it was still a great afternoon!

When we had finished our sketches we walked up to the cathedral to admire the view.

On our way back to the bus stop we passed the market again. We bought two huge fish-2 kilos! and i dont think it could have been any fresher.

When we got back to aix we went to my friend christens apartment where two other americans joined us. We decided to have our easter dinner a week early, since several of us would be out of town the following weekend.

Kiran gutted and cleaned the fish, I stuffed the inside with garlic, lemon, and basil. Im not gonna lie, there was a lot of blood and i coudlnt really look too closely. Then we popped them in the oven, head, tails, and all. While the fish cooked, Christin sauteed some artichoke and asparigus in a white wine and parmesan sauce and put that over pasta. The feast was served- and it was absolutely amazing. The fish was so fresh it was sweet, though there were a lot of little spines.

Drooling yet?

We made a desert too. Kiran made an italian custard, I melted dark chocolate, and we put that over strawberries. The entire production was conducted in french, and by the end of the evening I was absolutely exhausted and incredibly proud. I hadnt spoken English at all that day.

A few days later I had another culinary succes, Christin and I made a tart for my friends birthday. I cant help it, im about to brag. Christin baked the crust, which i have to admit was the best part. We then put down a thick coat of melted dark chocolate, then a coat of italian custard which i learned to make from my Kiran. We topped this with artistically arranged strawberries, bananas, and grated chocolate.

it tasted as good as it looked!

eur-a-peein

i wish i could take credit for the pun, but im afraid i stole that beauty from rick steves.
I thought I would take a minute to write about a little cultural difference that I never anticipated, but which plays a very large role in my daily life- bathrooms.
My dorm room comes equipped with a bidet (pronounced bid-day). This little wonder is like a mix between a urinal and a sink- a porcelain basin with a drain and running water that- unlike an italian bidet- does not squirt up, but trickles out. It can be used for all sorts of wonders. One of my friends lined hers with used towels and used it as storage. Another friend tried to keep one of the neighborhood cats in his room and tried to teach the cat to use it as a litter box. not surprisingly- he failed on both accounts. and then there is the more traditional use. eur-in-all.
Another common phenomenon in france is the lack of toilet seat. There are no toilet seats in my dorm, in the university building, and in many other public toilets. Its more of an optional accessory than a necessity here i guess. The first time i walked into a stall in our dorm bathroom and saw this i backed out and went to the next stall, thinking there was a mistake. and then i went to the next stall. and then i stood in the middle of the room turning in circles feeling very lost, until a guy walked into the bathroom. This did not make me any less confused, because i hadnt yet realized that co-ed bathrooms are common in dorms and university buildings. he asked me, in french, with a very thick north african accent, what was wrong. I didnt catch a word of it and just kind of stood there until he repeated himself very slowly. i finally understood and put together a semi comprehensible french response. Luckily i was in the right place to have the crap scared out of me.
and then i came accross one more fun cultural difference- France operates on a BYOTP basis.

This weekend I visited the Loire Valley, in the midwest of france, which is famous for its meideval and rennaissance castles. There are over 50 castles scattered along the Loire River. I travelled with two friends, Christin and Allison, and we used Blois (pronounced 'blwah') as our jumping off point. Besides having its own lovely castle, there were 5 or 6 others within easy reach.
We left the dorm at 4:30 am friday morning to walk to the train station. We took one train to Marseille, another to Paris, walked from Gare de Lyon to Gare d'Asterlitz, and then took another train to Blois. We arrived exhausted but excited, and immediately got lost trying to find the office de tourisme. When we did find it, it was closed for lunch break. Which was two hours long. Typical. Eventually we did make our way to our hostel, which it turns out was more along the lines of a YMCA than an actual hostel. From there we made it the bus station, and onto the number 4 bus to chateau cheverny. We arrived just as the castle closed and the rain started, and spent an hour at the bus stop waiting for the next bus. Though the afternoon was a bus, we had a lovely bruschetta dinner in town and went to very bed early.

The next day we spent the morning walking around blois and visited a beautiful cathedral and its gardens, which looked out over the river. Then we took a bus to Chateau Chambord. We arrived and immediately regressed into our disney childhood. It was a ten year old girls fantasy. Its a huge decadent building made of shining white stone with a moat, a magical stair case, paintings of princes and kings, who, though not particularly charming, at least had good architectural taste and the money to indulge it, suits of armour, and more romantic towers and chimneys than you can shake a baguette at. We ate a picnic on the front lawn- baguette, strawberries, cheese, champagne, and chocolate. We then crawled over every inch of the castle. One of my favorite parts was a long hallway decked with a herd of antlers which culminated in a stuffed deer. all i could think of was gaston singing ' i use antlers in all of my decorating...'

After spending several hours inside we went back out to the grounds for one last look before catching the bus home. The day had turned overcast, but the sun had ducked below the clouds. The castle shone gold against the stormy sky, and a perfect reflection hovered on the surface of the moat. I think the beauty of it all made me a little trigger happy because i took a disgusting amount of pictures. Dont regret a one of them though. None of us wanted to leave. But we didnt want to sleep under those menacing clouds either, so we got on our bus and strained our necks for one last look.

As we were driving through the countryside back to blois, we saw a large rainbow over the feilds and cottages to our left. I would not have been at all surprised to see unicorns prancing beneath it.

The next day we took a train to Chateau Chaumont. Its perched on a hill overlooking a row of quant stone cottages and the Loire river. This castle was much less decandent, though charming in a humble way. there was a drawbridge, though no real moat. We decided that Chambord was the beauty and the beast castle, and this was the cindarella castle. The interior was better furnished, lots of cark carved wood, canopy beds, and medieval tapistries. We finished our tour and went outside for another picnic lunch. It had gotten much colder, so we sat on our bench and ate rather quickly. We had some amazing pastries from a local bakery. Mine was a cream filled strawbery topped concoction.

We went back to the train station, and Christin (who had class the next day), headed back to blois then on to Aix. Allison and I caught a train to Amboise, another city further down the river. Here we visited Amboise castle, which, like Chaumont, is perched on a hill overlooking the river. But while Chaumont is relatively isolated, Amboise is right in the middle of a decent sized town. This is where François Ier seemed to spend most of his time. There is also a small adjacent chapel where Leonardo Da Vincis remains are preserved! François I invited Da Vinci to live in his court in france. DaVinci, already 64, accepted the invitation. Apparently François visited Da Vinci regularly, there was even an underground tunnel leading from the castle at Amboise to Da Vinci's house at Clos de Lucé. Another highlight from Chateau Amboise- fantastic gargoyles.

Allison and I eventually left there and walked to Da Vinci's house at Clos de Lucé, though we didnt go in because we didnt have all that much time before our train back to Blois. We got back in time to watch the sun go down over the city.

Monday, our last day, was spent exploring Blois. We visited the castle, which had by far the most interesting interior and history. François I, again, was closely connected to it, as was his son Henri II. We saw the room where Catherine de Medici died, and the secret cabinets in which the royal treasures were hidden. Dumas mentions them in one of his novels, but according to him Catherine to Medici hides her various poisons there. We also saw the room where one of the Henris (I think II, though the names and geneology were confusing) had his rival assassinated. Allison and i spent a good part of our time in the castle trying to keep the various Henris, Louis, Charles, and Francois straight, not to mention the Medicis and the various heralds and emblams that went with each.

After that we walked to St Nicholas Cathedral and looked around. The light was shining in through the stained glass and creating some wonderful light patterns. Then it was one last picnic before catching the train back to aix. We got in around 10:30.

It was an amazing weekend, and reminded me why I chose to come to france in the first place (as if i needed that). I hope that someday I can come back to the Loire valley and explore it further, maybe staying in Tours and visiting Chenonceau and Ussé.

You know you live in provence when...

1. Your idea of a balanced breakfast includes equal amounts chocolate, espresson, and bread, maybe a shot of orange juice.
2. You get several short breaks during each lecture so your professor can run outside and bum a cigarette off a student.
3. You can count at least three old women in large fur coats on any given street at any given moment. In April.
4. There is a national strike at least every other month, during which the trains and the postal service stop running.
5. You eat 5 baguettes a week.
6. You are the only person in sight not predominantly dressed in black, and think that wearing navy blue is a bold color move.
7. you can pick and eat figs on your way to class.
8. you believe that the only way to drink coffee is out of a thimble sized mug.
9. you can study english at the lycée for five years and not speak a word of it.
10. You cant take three steps out of your door without stepping in a big pile of dog 'merde', but after all- thats a sign of good luck, so who cares?
... and last but not least...
you can look out of your window and see monte saint victoire, and you realize that you just might live in the most beautiful place in europe.

semi marathon

When I came to France, I had never run more than two miles at a time. I'm still am not entirely sure how running became such a large part of my life. But I came here looking for new experiences, and the semi marathon in Paris was certainly unlike anything I have experienced before.

I used to jog occasionally in Bloomington, but it was always sporadic and I never went for more than 20 minutes. Early last semester I started jogging with a couple of friends in the program.
Our first group run included myself, Katie, a girl with our program who coached her cross country running team in highschool, Frank, also an experienced runner, and our Polish friend Bart, who lived on the edge of Poland and Germany and actually used to run across country borders.
The route led to a park not far from our dorm. 20 minutes in and they had just started warming up on the track, while I was drenched in sweat and breathing like I was about going into labor. I guess my pride dented, because after this embarrassing first run, I started going on my own more and more frequently, and after a couple of weeks (and several gallons of perspiration), I started going on longer runs with my friends. After all, Aix is a beautiful city, and there are two lovely parks just a short jog away. And when everything in your small town is closed evenings and sundays, what else is there to do?

Some of our runs include the road to the mountain, a path along a ridge which offers beautiful views of the mountain and aix, and a road leading to venelles which takes us past quaint vineyards and provencal cottages. We even startled a couple of quail in a feild on the venelles run.

Several weeks ago this new hobby( or obsession) culminated in the semi marathon in Paris. My friend Katie had also signed up to run. We took an early morning train to Paris. We decided to treat ourselves and booked a hotel rather than a hostel. The day before the race we carbo-loaded, mapped our route, and went to bed early. The next morning we got onto the subway to find our car already full of determined looking men in windbreakers. They all carried duffel bags and wore expensive looking running shoes. Some of these sneakers looked like they were designed and tested by NASA engineers, with more springs and support than a mattress factory. I felt underdressed in my sweat pants, t-shirt, and sneakers from Pay-Less.
We got off of the subway at Chateau de Vincennes. I really enjoyed watching all of the runners standing in line to take the escalator out of the metro.
There were already thousands of people at the race start. We made our way to check in, where we got our number, a goody bag, and an electronic chip which we tied into our shoe-laces to record our time. The goody bag was... interesting. There was an energy drink with enough electrolites for a fleet of kenyan runners, some testosterone scented dude-shampoo, and an innocent looking tube of cream. I didn't know what this was at first, but my innocence was shattered when i saw at least half a dozen middle aged men with their hands up their shorts applying it. Anti-chaffing Cream.
That brings me to the other runners. There were about 22,000 runners from all over the world, ranging from 17 to 70. I was especially amazed at the number of older men running. There were also other students close to my age, but the over 40s were definitely the majority.
and the work out gear! holy crap i've never seen many skin tight short shorts! in every color of the rainbow, plus some nineties neons. There were windbreakers, fancy socks, sweat bands, and - my favorite- utility belts. holy water-capsule grenades batman.
The crowd began moving towards the track around 8:30. It was forecast to rain, so there were black trash bags available near the exit of the conference, and many people were taking advantage of these make-shift ponchos.
Katie and I wandered towards a crowd of runners who were warming up near the start line. They were being lead by two jazzercise instructors on a platform. It was an incredibly surreal moment- following jazzercize instructions in french in front of a medieval castle. I was nervous. I was confused. I was giggling rather hysterically.
We took our positions around 9. Runners were organized in groups based on goal-time, with the faster runners starting first. Katie was several groups ahead of me, so we agreed to meet at the finish line and separated.
And then I was off, being carried across the start line by a wave of sneakers. Within minutes runners were breaking away from the pack and off into the woods to piss. Nerves?
Within the first kilometer, I started tripping over black trash bags which runners had torn off as they got hot.
The sidelines were lined with people holding signs, blowing horns, cheering, or just sitting outside of their houses and shops watching. There were live music and speakers blaring music every few kilometers. I was excited and feeling good!

Not so my kilometer 11, when it started to rain. True, the live music and cheering crowds were exciting. but i was in pain and still had 10 km.

There were also several stands along the way handing out water and gatorade. Two of these tables also had volunteers handing out banana and orange halves. Wanna see something funny? watch thousands of runners slip and slide over a carpet of banana peels for about 30 feet, then resume their game faces as they try to pretend nothing happened and keep trucking. This is the stuff cartoonists dreams are made of.

kilometer 15: I find myself behind a man dressed as a smurf and painted blue from head to toe. I will forever have the phrase 'ALLEZ LE STROMPH (french word for smurf)' tattooed on my brain, because I had to listen to crowds chanting that for the most painful 6kms of my life.

By the last few kilometers I was wet, cold, and in considerable pain. My left foot and my lower back hurt with just about every step. And I wanted to kill the stromph in front of me. All I could think was 'did i seriously pay to do this?? this isn't fun!'
But I managed to sprint over the finish line... I think it may have been simultaneously the proudest and most miserable moment of my life.
Mika's 'Relax' was playing and people were cheering. I was told to put my foot on a stool so they could cut the timing chip out of my shoe laces and handed a medal. I started stumbling back towards the conference center. I don't even know if I grabbed any water.
I was incredibly relieved when I saw Katie at the conference center. Both of our cell phones were checked with our stuff, so this was a weak point in our plan. We picked up our coats and started making our way through the large room towards the exit on the other side.
I was almost- ALMOST- too dazed to notice that people were changing in the middle of the conference room. I understand that many Europeans think that Americans are prudes when it comes to nudity, and I am no exception. I saw one elderly gentleman stripped down to... well... his running socks... fumbling in his bag for clean clothes, cool and calm as though he were in the privacy of his bedroom. After that I kept my eyes on my shoes (how the hell did i get that much mud on them??) and hoped that I wouldn't bump into anyone.

Katie and I spent the next- very miserable- hour walking to our metro stop, standing on the metro (it was full), then walking to our hotel. the clerk was nice enough to let us use the bathroom in an empty room to shower and change, and had i not been so wet and disgusting i might have hugged him for this. Then we gathered our stuff and it was back on the metro to a much cheaper hostel on the other side of town where I would be spending the night.
Again, more walking, this time with all of our stuff. And we still hadn't eaten. And I was still in pain. but I was too tired to complain.
We checked into St Christophers hostel, dropped our stuff, and finally, FINALLY, went to get food.
I ate an entire pizza. topped with ground beef and a fried egg. and i washed it down with a watery milkshake.
food has never tasted better.
Kate left that evening for Aix, I stayed the night at the hostel (I was in bed by 9) and spent the next day exploring Paris alone.
It involved a lot of walking, and a lot of pain, but its hard to be grumpy in Paris and I thoroughly enjoyed myself. However, due to a slight delay on the subway, I ended up sprinting through the station with my bag to catch my train, one of my sacks burst sending my stuff flying across the station, and by the time i boarded I was panting, sweating, and every inch of my legs and back ached.
I was ready to go home.
(though there was still a 35 minute walk home from the bus station in Aix)

Morroco- final chapters!

Day 6

We ate a fantastic (and free!!!) breakfast at our hotel- soft boiled eggs, apricot jam, bread that was something between a crepe and naan, dannon yogurt, and of course- coffee and hot milk. Then sheryl and brendan went to the train station to get tickets for that night, and i head to the public gardens behind the Katouba. The Katouba is a 12 century tower which was used to call people to prayer. It is in remarkable condition, and still one of the highest points in the city. the sun was bright and the garden was filled with lovely orange trees and benches. I wrote in my journal until the others joined me. I do still try to keep an old fashioned ink and paper journal during the longer trips, and not just so i have an excuse to take periodic café breaks along the way. Its very satisfying to see your own adventures recorded in your own handwriting.

After the others joined me in the garden, we walked to the medina and the kasbah. At which point we had an odd realization- none of us actually knew what a kasbah was. We all had some vague notion of old crumbling walls- but was the kasbah an old fortification, the term for the tower or gate, a generic term for the old part of town, or something more specific still?

so to clear up any lingering confusion-

The Casbah (French) or as transliterated from Arabic Qasba (from qasba, قصبة, 'citadel') is specifically the citadel of Algiers and the traditional quarter clustered round it. More generally, kasbah denotes the walled citadel of many North African cities and towns.

So we werent too far off, though we had visited several without realizing it.

We wandered around the kasbah for awhile, and then went back for one final tour of the souks. I dont think i could ever get bored of them, though i would certainly go broke within a week. We had dinner with our friends at 114 again, and then Sheryl and Brendan left for the night train to tanger. they would spend one day and one night there before flying back to marseille early the next morning. I went back to the hostel and to bed.


Day 7
I decided to spend my solo day on an afternoon tour with Sahara adventures. I met the bus at 9 and we headed in the direction of the Ourzuka falls. My travel companions for the day:

Patrick and Linda- a middle aged british couple on holiday. Patrick was a hypno-therapist. A young couple about to leave on their honeymoon- she was morrocan, he was from Cyprus. The young mans parents were there too.There were also two belgian girls travelling together- one was a physical therapist, the other a travel agent- both spoke several languages, and i was able to have a conversation with them in french.
our van head off, stopping as usual for the occasional photo shoot. Our first visit was to a beautiful building in the atlas mountains where there was a large pottery studio. The shutters and doors were all painted a vivid blue, the exterior walls were hung with red and orange carpets, and the terrace and yard were full of unpainted clay pots. I talked to one of the craftsman who was making clay lamps. He told me he could make thirty in a day. Judging by the clusters of clay objects covering every square inch of floor and shelf (and making turning around with a purse very dangerous!), he had been at it for years. The stop was followed, as always, by a chance to buy souvenirs. I dont think anyone bought anything.
Our next stop was a garden. A tour explained the medicinal and culinary uses of each of the plants in their garden. They had everything from lavender, wormwood to several variations of mint and aloe.
this was-again!- followed by a sales pitch. you could buy medicinal creams and ointments and cooking spices from the gift shop, where our tour ended. This did give me a chance to talk to patrick. I told him i was a psychology student, and he seemed very willing to talk about his work as a hypnotherapist. He explained that he didnt necessarily cure people, he just created an atmostphere in which the brain was able to heal itself. It was fascinating, but as with the herbal medicines, im not sure ive been convinced.
Our last stop was the waterfall. We paid a guide to lead us from the small town by the river to the actual fall, it was about a half hour walk through a rather poorly marked trail. Several guides offered there services, we went with the cheapest, and found out later that he didnt show us all that he could have. live and learn i guess. It was still lovely.
During the return bus ride, I talked to the father of the young man from cyprus (would that make him a cyprisian??) He told me he thought capitalism was coming to an end just as communism had ended. The next order would be divinely inspired. I was glad to get off the bus.

That evening in Marrakesh i visited the Sadiaan tombs, then had dinner once more at 114. I started talking to another young couple at my table. She was english, he was from new zealand. Every year this couple took an extended motorcycle adventure in a different part of the world. This time they had been on the road for three weeks already, and had just come from timbuktu! huh, so it is a real place. I asked them, out of all the places they had visited, which were the most interesting? response- istanbul and estonia.
At one point during our conversation i looked down and saw that shakespeare, the server, had given me a glass of mint tea and i hadnt even noticed! he brought some for my friends as well! again, the people here amaze me.
I listened to some live music in the square before bed. It was sad to leave morroco, though it had been an exhausting week. I wouldnt have wanted to stay longer by myself. I desperately want to go back someday- I want to visit Fez and Rabat, spend more time in the atlas mountains, explore the coast more. But more than anything i want to know this place in a role other than that of a tourist.

I got up early the next morning and saw the square empty for the first time. Not even the vendors were up yet, and the wild cats had full rein. I got a taxi to the airport and started the next stage of my journey.

Morroco contd.

Day 4

We got up very early and had a berber breakfast- a type of flat bread that was half naan, half crepe with apricot jam and butter, hot milk, hot coffee, orange juice that was really tang. Then it was back on the bus.

The tour did involve a lot of bus time, but we were driving through such marvelous country side that I never felt bored. And there really was no other alternative- it allowed us to penetrate deep into the country and see things we were never otherwise have found.

Our first big stop was at a small town, where we were led by a local guide through a feild into the heart of the village. We were joined by a bunch of local kids who walked with us, offering us little woven palm leaves in return for pencils. sadly, i didnt have any with me!

In town, we were invited into a local home. We were led into a small room covered- floor, ceiling, walls- with woven carpets. There was a loom in one corner where a woman worked preparing wool. A man introduced himself and served us tea. Then he introduced the woman as his sister- she didnt speak english. He then explained to us how the carpets were made, and the signifigance of the colors.

The lesson was followed by a sales pitch and a very awkward silence- none of us was interested in buying a carpet, but no one wanted to say so. The tension was finally broken with a question, and we were all rather glad to leave.

Back on the bus! Next stop was lunch and a walk in another gorge. Sheryl and i got another lesson in berber and arabic from a friendly local. (again, phonetic spelling!)

ismee elizabeth - my name is elizabeth

musharafin- nice to meet you

bus, again, and then a stop at a fossil warehouse for a quick stop. Turns out that area used to be underwater, and there are a lot of fossils (i think they said devonian period, lots of trilobites).

We arrived in the dunes of merzouga a few hours later. Abdullah introduced our guide for the evening, Mustafah, and the two of them helped each of us tie our scarfs around our faces as turbans. Then we mounted camels and went for an hour long ride into the dunes! Camels= not that comfortable. But the dunes were beautiful- the sand was so smooth it looked velvety, disturned here and there by odd black beatles. The sun set behind us just as we arrived at our camp. We were spending the night in tents.

We tried sandboarding a little down the dune, but it didnt work that well, and climbing to the top was too much work.

Dinner seated on the ground around a low table, with nothing but a propane lamp. there were wild- looking cats circling outside of the light, i even saw one run over the roof of the tent. they rushed in after we finished eating and scattered chicken bones everywhere.

We sat around the fire while mustafah taught us rhythms on the drum. its a lot harder than i thought! then we lay out and looked at the stars. One by one we either fell asleep where we lay or went into the tents.

That night it was freezing- i stayed curled on the sand in the fetal position most of the night, wearing every peice of clothing id brought and covered in the blanket that id sat on while riding the camel. didnt get much sleep.

Day 5

Woke (so i guess i got some sleep) before sunrise, rode the camel back to the van and breakfast in the guest house. hot milk and coffee never tasted so good.

Spent most of the day in the bus heading back towards Marrakesh. We stopped for lunch, and for evening prayer. I spent most of this time sleeping to make up for the cold night.

We arrived at marrakesh around 6, and said goodbye to our fellow travellers. We had to find a place to stay for the night, since we'd originally planned to spend that night on the tour. We ended up at the Riad- a hotel connected to the tour program. They gave us a great discount since they had changed tours on us.

It was absolutely beautiful! the first thing we did was shower. It had been a few days, and we all smelled rather like camel... When i got out of the shower, i picked up the pile of clothes id left on the floor and a roach fell out. I shook them out very well before i put them away, and then put the rest of my stuff on the table. Oh well.

We had dinner back at stall 114 in the square. The servers remembered us! after our meal, we started talking with them. They taught us how to make mint tea! we hung around until they were starting to close down ( we hadnt gotten there until almost ten, so this wasnt that long) and the servers offered to share their evening meal with us, even though they had already fed us! I was continually amazed at how generous the people in morroco were. I completely lost track of the amount of mint tea i was offered. our friends at 114 talked to us about morrocan politics and travellers theyd met. They all spoke english, though none of them had learned it in school. theyd just picked it up on the job. One guy said itd taken him 12 years to learn! It was remarkable.

went to bed late and exhausted.

Morroco

The université de provence has a one week break in february, vacance d'hiver. I decided to use this time to explore Morroco. It was the trip of a lifetime!
I travelled with two other americans, Sheryl from indiana and Brendan ( knickname Beej) from Wisconsin
Day 1: Friday
bust to airport at 5 in the morning. ryan air flight to tanger. we arrive and it is gorgeous and sunny, palm trees everywhere and sparkly blue ocean.
taxi into town. we were tired after our early morning so we napped on the beach. I woke up from my nap to find camels crossing the beach not 5 feet from where im sleeping. I dont think i've been more disoriented, if it werent for the photo sheryl snapped id have thought i was dreaming it.
We bummed around tanger all day. there isnt all that much to do there, but the weather was lovely, so we relaxed and explored. In the afternoon we had our first Morrocan thé à la menthe, or mint tea. Its fantastic and usually comes with springs of fresh mint. We took a petite taxi to the kasbah, where we looked accross the strait of Gibralter. You could just barely make out Spain. then ate a big morrocan dinner, the first of many Tagines. Delightful. and we got a lesson on Morrocan carpet making. There are different regional styles and traditions.
we went back to the train station that night to catch a night bus to Marrakech. The night train was wonderful! our own private compartment with really comfy cots and a sink.

Day 2
Woke up early and watched the sunrise from the train. the stop at marrakech caught us by surprise so we rushed to get out of our pjs and off of the train. we caught another petite taxi into town, and found our hostel. It was in the middle of the souks ( famous markets) down a very confusing alley. still surprised we found it so quickly. dropped off our stuff and headed out to explore.
first stop- Djemaa El-Fna, a huge open square in the heart of the city. It is constantly changing, there is always something going on here. Snake charmers, trained monkeys, veiled women giving henna tattoos, street preformers, you name it and it is there.

we then had to run some errands- exchanging money and stopping at the tour office to pay and confirm

when this was out of the way we went to a restaurant where we ate traditional morrocan food on the terrace overlooking the square. washed it down with mint tea and lost ourselves once more in the hustling and hassling of the souks.

Dinner was at an outdoor stall in Djemaa El-Fna. It was completely transformed at night. In the center was a sea of tents selling snails, tea and pastries, lambs head soup, kebabs, couscous, tagines- the smell of it all was incredible. surrounding this were little islands of light where fortune tellers and musicians were seated on blankets around their propane lights. Crowds would form around one circle and then slowly disperse to reform around another. As we walked through this people called to us from every side trying to attract our attention and pull us into their stall or lamp lit circle.

We ended up at a barbecue stall, 114. the servers were all very friendly, they referred to us all as america, and made jokes about KFC of all things!! the guy who served us was called shakespeare and had an incredible unibrow.

we ended our evening with one more circuit of the square.





Day 3

We got up early and walked to the tour office. There werent enough people signed up for the 4 day 3 night tour, so we ended up getting a partial refund and going on the 3 day 2 night. We loaded into a white minibus and set off. I fell asleep almost immediately on the bus.

Our first stop- Ait Benhaddou Kasbah in Ouarzazate. It was used in the filming of lawrence of arabia, the mummy, and the gladiator. Its one of the best preserved kasbahs from the period.

back into the bus until lunch, when i got to know our fellow tour participants. There were two other americans, both of whom were living in paris. one was studying law there, the other was teaching english. There was a young guy from japon who had been travelling europe alone for several weeks, and barely spoke english, another japonese girl who was very quiet, two friends from tawaiin, and a middle aged chinese NGO worker named vincent.
back on the bus. we drove the rest of the day, making occasional stops at small towns or view points to walk around and take pictures.
We arrived in the Dadas gorge around 6, and checked into a small hotel right on the river. During dinner, we bonded by swapping travel stories . Vincent must have asked everyone at the table if they had been to cambodia at least 5 times. He then told the americans that they really should visit cuba. 'Very nice. I have contact there.'
After dinner abdullah and the hotel staff started playing the drums, a bunch of us actually got up and danced. Then they sat around smoking hookah ( or narguilé), and we talked, half french, half english. We were joined by the only other guests, two girls from manchester. One of them was a parole officer, though she was only 25. She explained that english parole officers are more like social workers.
By this point it was quite dark, and we decided to go up to the terrace on the roof to look at the stars. We brought our blankets- it was freezing! but i've never seen such brilliant stars. i cant think of a non cliche way to describe them- shimmering, brilliant, luminous- i was shocked my the sheer multitude of it all, framed by the sheer sides of the gorge.
abdullah and another one of the hotel staff, Ahmed, taught us some berber words.
i did my best to spell them phonetically:
Moon- Airure
shooting star (we saw three)- tamar wite
star- teetreet
river- assif
and we talked about berber culture. Morroco is about 80 percent berber, and even though their culture has been greatly influenced by the arab population and tourism, they still have a very strong sense of identity. They seem to enjoy educating visitors on their language, their food, their crafts. It was fascinating.
Eventually the cold drove us inside. There was no heating in the building, so it was a rather rough night.

Les Baux de Provence

One of my goals for this year is to really explore Provence. It has completely surpassed its reputation. It has a little of everything- there are more cute picturesque villages than you can shake a stick at, olive groves, mountains, valleys, castles, and beaches.

Last friday I visited Les Baux, one of the priettiest towns in Provence. Getting there from Aix was a little complicated. I went with two other friends. We took a train to Marseille, where we had to wait for 40 minutes before getting a train to Arles. From arles we got a bus to another small town whose name I have already forgotten. I'll have to ask the others.

The town consisted of a school, a church, 4 bakeries, and a store that sold nothing but fire extingquishers. and thats about it. We stopped at a bakery to get baguettes and asked for directions to Les Baux. It was only 4 km, easy walking distance. We ate a picnic lunch and set off again.

About ten minutes into the walk we decided to explore a path leading off to our left and stumbled upon one of the prettiest parks I have ever seen. There were large rock mounds surrounded by rosemary bushes and pine trees. We climbed several of the mounds and had a great view of the town and countryside.

It seems almost ridiculous that there are so much natural beauty here.

After that magical little detour we continued on towards Les Baux. When we started passing large fields filled with olive trees we knew we were getting close.

We reached the city about 20 minutes and several photo ops later, though we had to climb a long flight of awarkdly small stairs to get to it. Worth it. The town is small and pretty much dead since its still not tourist season, but it was obnoxiously quaint and crowned with a castle. We paid to get into the castle and picked up our free audio guide. We listened to it for about 5 minutes and then decided it would be more fun to just climb all over the hill and explore on our own.

It was like the worlds largest and oldest jungle gym. There is just enough left of the foundations and castle that, with a little imagination, you can tell what was what. We climbed down to the dungeons, played with the recreated battery ram, and crawled through the kitchen.

From what was left of the tallest tower you could see mountains, olive fields, stone cliffs, the town, and way off in the distance there was a little patch of sparkle- the sea.

After we'd warn ourselves out in the castle we head back towards the bus stop in the first small town. We had some time to kill so we stopped at a morrocan restaurant for thé à la menthe.

a bus and two trains later we were back in Aix and exhausted. I slept very well.

Bologna

Day two of the Italy trip was devoted to Bologna. Christen and I got up early and walked into town. I was so full from eating an entire pizza the night before that I didnt eat breakfast before we head out. But we passed an outdoor market on the way and after browsing through the meats and cheeses i decided i was hungry again. So we got ourselves some canoli.


when we got to old town and piazza maggriore and my jaw dropped. its a large open square surrounded by marvelous medieval buildings. There is a large bronze fountain of Neptune, a palace, the huge and unfinished bascilica Petronio Basilica, archways leading to crowded market streets, gelateries, street preformers, and we took several minutes just turning in circles in the middle of this, trying to soak it all up.


We started our city tour with the Basilica of San Domenico- according to the lonely planet guide mozart once played the organ there. Its also where the Dominican order was founded.


Then we went to the University of Bologna- the oldest university that is still operating and granting degrees, they think it was founded around 1088. famous students include Dante, Petrach, and Albrecht Durer. It was great, every inch of wall and ceiling was covered in student and professor family crests, many of which were left blank. We also checked out the universities anatomical theater. Its a large room decorated in wood carvings. There are benches surroundind a central marble table, where animals and humans were dissected.


Next up we set out for a church that supposedly combined 7 different architectural styles. We found it, but it was closed. In the meanwhile we also stumbled on a huge antique market and perused the stalls there. I found some cheap old sun glasses.
From there we went back to the main square and visited the bascilica. I think that brings our total bascilica tally to 7. Not bad for two days.
Lunch was a nice sit down restaraunt that Christens friend had recommended. We both got the special- buttery pasta with mussels and octopus. like little baby octopus with the tenticals cutely curled. Chewy. dessert- gelato. The labels were long unpronouncable italian words so i pointed to two and hoped that i hadnt just ordered cotton candy and mocha or some other weird combo. Nope, delicious. We wandered around the streets a little more. The architecture was incredible. We saw the famous two towers, which lean drunkenly over the sidewalks.
We went back to the hostel around 3:30, picked up our luggage, and went to the bus station. The minute we stepped under the bus shelter it started to rain. we turned back towards the city and no joke, there was a clear and bright rainbow arcing across the sky. a double rainbow no less. I could barely believe it. I think that trip gave me a very distorted impression of italy- I will always remember it as a perfect land of friendly people, sinful food, and magical sights.
The bus ride back was about 14 hours including stops. I managed to get a decent amount of sleep again.
We got back into aix around 7 am and I had a long cold walk home. I was actually glad to be back at cuques. one of the best parts about any trip is coming home.

Ravenna

This weekend my friend Christen and I took a night bus from Aix-en-Provence to Bologne. The bus left aix gare routiere at 10pm thurs night and arrived in bologne 11 the next morning. Yeah, it was a long ride, and not very comfortable, but i managed to get a decent amount of sleep. I came up with some creative leg formations that im pretty sure could be yoga moves. also, the bus driver corrected my pronunciation of bologne when we got on the bus ( not bah-logna, boh-logna). after that he said BOH-logna to me every time i got on or off of the bus at rest stops.

When we collected our bags from the bus belly they were rather damp and muddy. eh. we realized that we had no idea how to get to the hostel from the bus station, so we bought a map at the gas station next door and asked for directions. well, neither of us knew any italian. so we just said the street name while looking as confused as possible. they got the idea.

turns out the hostel was only a ten minutes walk away. dropped off our baggage, got train times from the front desk (they spoke english!) and went to catch a train to ravenna.

Ravenna was the seat of the byzantine empire in the 6th century but is now a small town whose only real tourist bait is byzantine mosaics. I took a class on byzantine art back at IU and studied several bascilicas in Ravenna, so I was pretty pumped to be there.

after another hour of sitting we arrived at ravenna. we got lunch, debated over whether or not to tip (you dont in france, but we had no idea for italy) and ended up leaving some change just in case.

We started with saint apollinare nuovo, a bascilica plan church with a long mosaic on each side of the central aisle. The mosaics show a procession of virgins on one side and a procession of martyrs on the other. there is also a mpsaic of the palace of theoderic. there used to be figures in the niches between the columns, but they were replaced with decorative curtains during the iconclast controversy. you can still see a disembodied hand on one of the columns though.

Then we walked to San Vitale. By far one of the most beautiful things i have ever seen. its a cross in square plan with a painted central. the paintings were beautiful, though from a much later period. lots of flowers and cherubs and trompe l'oiel. that part of the church was dimly lit, i assume for conservation reasons. the real stunner however was the apse. Every inch of the walls and ceilings were covered with mosaics. There were biblical scenes, flowers, geometric patterns, random urns and peacocks, and the famous scenes of justinian and theodora. It was like being inside of a jewelry box. I am a big fan of the byzantine gold background. I took an embarrassing amount of pictures.

Just outside of san vitale was the mausoleum of Galla Placidia. I had seen pictures of all of these mosaics, but i had never realized just how small it was. It was a much more intimate and personal beauty, the mosaics were so much closer and compact. it was almost refreshing after the overwhelming splendor of san vitale.

christen and i then walked back to the train station, getting lost and rained on en route. we got there and waited for the bus to saint apollinare in classe. we could take either the 4 or the 44. We stood at one bus stop and watched both buses pass us and stop at the round about across the street. and of course the minute we crossed the street to that bus stop the bus pulled up the stop we'd just left. so we ran back across the street and almost missed the bus a third time.

Saint apollinaire in classe was not as stunning as the others, though still impressive. large, less detailed and ornate, gold background and some very odd looking sheep. i think at this point i was getting basilica fatigue. It was still interesting to see the mosaic in person after studying pictures in class.

We ended up having to wait for awhile in the cold before the bus came. We got off at the train station and rushed to catch the 7:35 train, only to find that it didnt run on weekends. so we hung out at a café until the 8:35 train. some confusion at our transfer stop, we asked the man behind the desk for help ( again, this was just me holding up a ticket and looking confused while mis-prounouncing bah-logna) and he ended up talking politics with us. it went kind of like this:

train conductor dude: america?

us: oui (wrong language)

train guy: obama! good?

us: si (right language this time)

train guy: bush, not good!

us: si!

it was odd.

anyway we got back to bologna at ten and still hadnt had dinner, and we were too tired to walk into town in the rain. so we asked the concierge for a good pizza place and he said there was one just around the corner.

we went, and it was FANTASTIC. the prices were good, so we ordered 2 pizzas expecting small personnal pizzas. what we got were huge. one with eggplant and ricotta, the other with wild mushrooms, ham, and artichokes. complete with cute old italian waiter who gestured wildly while using his entire english vocabulary to tell us that america is big and italy is small.

i ate an entire pizza. im pretty proud.

a visitor!

Last weekend Michael, a friend from highschool, came and visited me in Aix. Michael is spending the semester studying engineering in Metz, a french city in Lorraine near the border of Luxembourg.
He arrived friday afternoon and we toured the city, before coming back to Cuques for dinner and rest. Saturday we were joined by another engineering student who was visiting a friend of mine before heading on to spain. We went into town and explored the market, where we breakfasted on free samples, then sat outside of a café. We talked and watched the vendors break down the flower market. At around 2 we caught the bus out to Monte Sainte Victoire. It took us awhile to find a real trail, and there were several faux amies, but once we got going we made good time. The day had started out sunny but was looking more and more like rain, and the wind was picking up. I wasnt too worried though. both michael and brad happen to be eagle scouts, and are therefore capable of building a several story shelter with running water using nothing but our baguette for a hammer.
The climb was cold, we couldnt even see the peak through the clouds. We stopped behind a large rock and ate a picnic (baguette and cheese, what else) while looking out over the country side. We could just make out aix in the distance.
We stretch just before the peak was tricky- the wind was unbelievable, and there was still slush and snow on the rocks. But it was worth it stand up in the clouds looking over the misted country side. We didnt stay up there long- it was freezing and the wind was fierce. We took the easy path down.
That night we ate a big pasta dinner with a bunch of americans at my friends apartment. That evening michael filled me in on all the cincy news and we revisited highschool memories.
The next morning michael and i wandered around the city a bit more, then i saw him off at the bus station.
All in all a great visit!

Also, the culinary adventures continue:
Yesterday my friend carmen and i used a friends oven to roast vegetables with olive oil and herbs de provence, and it was fantastic.
Tonight my friend laurie and christen and I had dinner together. Laurie, a local, shared a french recette with us:
Tartaflette- potatoes sliced thin with creme fraiche ( just pour it over the potatoes in a casserole dish) , thick slices of Robechon cheese, and bits if ham. Bake on high temp for about 20 mins, until potatoes are soft. It was delicious and took about 5 minutes to prepare.

This weekend I am off to Bologne!

femme de menage

One of the quirks that comes with living in the Cuques dorm is the femme de menage, or 'cleaning woman'. There is one for each pavillion. En principe, her job is to clean the bathrooms, kitchens, and hallways. but en fait these are always filthy. The other part of her job is to knock on everyones door once a day to make sure that they are either not in the room, or if they are there, that they are not dead. Apparently a few years ago a student committed suicide here and no one realized it until the body began to smell.
Our femme de menage is fantastic. She is short, wears reading glasses on a chain, teal sweatpants, pink socks with sandals, and a pink cardigan. She also smokes like a chimney. She smokes while hosing down the showers (because they dont get wet enough already?), while checking the rooms, and while sweeping the hall. You can tell where shes swept from the trail of cigarette ash.
I wasnt always such a big fan of the femme de menage. On each floor, there is a common kitchen. One of the big kitchen rule is you must take out your trash when you are dont cooking. Whenever trash is left in the kitchen you can expect to be woken up between 8 and 9 the next morning by the femme de mebage pounding on random doors and shouting 'c'est qui a laissé la poubelle dans la cuisine??' Early october, one of these morning wake up calls got ugly. The femme de menage had heard from several corsican girls on our floor that it was the Americans who had left food and trash all over the kitchen. This was NOT true, in fact we hadnt even cooked on that floor that day, and earlier that weekend i had gone in there and taken out someone elses trash and scrubbed the burner. But the femme de menage was pissed and didnt care to listen to our thickly accented explanations. Instead, she started shouting that it was always the foreigners, always the americans, who made a mess, and that we had better figure out who had done this or she would go to the director of the dorm.
Things have since settled down, and our femme de menage has been incredibly friendly the last few months. Im not sure what changed, though i suspect that it may have to do with the fact that we reported the incident to our program office, who talked to the dorm director, but life has gotten much pleasanter without the angry wake up calls.

markets

Since I have arrived in southern france, i have become obsessed with food.
It all started with the markets. In Aix, there are several outdoor markets. One takes place every day in a small square in town which is surrounded by cafés. vendors sell local honey (my favorite is lavander honey), wonderful fresh produce, whole fish, whole roast chickens, cheese, sausage, bread, herbs, and flowers. There is another larger market near the palais de justice which happens three times a week (teus, thurs, and sunday) where you can get all of that and then some. There is food on one half and a flea market of sorts on the other. You can get local olive oil, sun dried tomatoes, mushrooms and truffles, spices, nuts, dried fruit, bio products, eggs, whole skinned rabbits, octopus stew, chevre tarts, pies- you name it, chances are its there. You can also get old books, vintage post cards, leather bags, scarves, fur coats, shoes, underwear, socks, kitchen appliances, little tin lanterns, hand made baskets, lavender, soaps, used cds, and tacky metal signs. I try to go to the market as often as possible and try whatever is currently in season. When I arrived, figs were in season. I had never had a fresh fig before, and they are the new love of my life. I actually found a couple of fig trees in and around aix and picked a small basket full. Then it was peaches and nectarines, squash and apples, kaki and clementines, and i think currently its litchi and star fruit.
In the dorm, I have a small refrigorater and access to a microwave and hotplates. Unfortunately, no oven. Eating out is very expensive in Aix, so i tend to prepare most of my meals myself. here are a few of my favorite dishes to make in the dorm:
- sautaued vegetables with couscous and curry, cumin, and tumeric
- lentils with squash, spinach, and zucchini and cumin and salt
- spaghetti with eggplant, zucchini, onion, garlic, basil
- fish ( its fun to fillet yourself, though there will be scales everywhere), lemon, butter, and basil
-home made french fries
-apples sauteed in orange juice with crumbled buiscuits
-crepes with just about anything, though i like mushrooms with creme frais and ham
we cook almost every night, and weve had to get creative to keep from getting bored. But what started out as a practicality has become a new hobby. I love cooking!

This week a friend of mine is dog sitting for one of the directrices in our program. We went over to her house tonight and cooked an apple pie. However, we didnt have a pie dish so it was more like an enormous apple casserole or loaf. We used granny smith apples, and a crust of butter, rapeseed oil, sugar, salt, and vanilla. We had to combine several recipes for the crust, I may want to experiment with proportions. It turns out there are four basic components in any pie crust: salt, sugar, liquids, and fats. the liquid can be water, fruit juice, or milk, but should be very cold. The fat could be butter, oil, shortening, or lard.
Id also like to try it with ground walnuts in the topping and either dried cherries or cranberries mixed in the crust. As it was, it was wonderful. I never thought id bake my first apple pie in france!
I've been collecting recipes and ideas to bring home, and will try to post some of my favorites soon!

Hogmanay

New Years, also known as Hogmanay, is the big celebration in Scotland. Actually Hogmanay is just the 31st of december, but the celebration begins several days earlier. Edinburgh starts the holiday off with a torch light procession through the center of the city. It is led by people in viking costumes and bagpipers and involves a terrifying amount of fire. I loved it.
Then theres a street festival with rides, snack stalls, and concerts. You had to buy a wristband to get access to that part of town, it was all roped off. The night of the 31st i met several of Sophies friends on Princes street (she couldnt be there because her band had a gig in bournemouth). The crowds were insane. It took me ages to fight my way to the meeting place, and even then im surprised i actually found my party. There were also a lot of people in costume- my favorites were luigi, buzz light year, and a very convincing jack sparrow. at midnight there were massive fireworks fired from the castle and a laser show, then we went to a club, a kabob stand, and i stumbled home.

That brings me to January. I came down with a bad fever the day after getting back into Aix from Scotland. I spent a few days in bed trying to study for exams but thinking instead about how much my body hurt. Then the day of my first exam fate intervened and we had a freak snow storm. It snowed 14 inches or so, they havent had a storm like that here since 1987, and all of the exams for the next few days were canceled. It was glorious- the french didnt know what to make of it and did silly things like carry umbrellas and wrap their shoes in plastic. I built a snow man and got in a snow ball fight with some random kids in the park. may have still been slightly feverish.

Then elyse visited. We spent a day in marseille, where we watched the sunset over the mediterranean while talking to an australian about whether the french smell like cheese or cheese smells like the french. That night we filleted two entire fish. which were apparently pregnant. so first we had to cut off the heads and scoop out the eggs.
that night was fun.

The next morning we had some bus issues and almost missed our train to paris. I chewed off all of the fingernails on my right hand, i dont think ive ever felt so anxious. We ended up at the train station at 10:40 for our 10:42 train. which turned out to be ten minutes late. saved again.
Paris was wonderful. I could spend several weeks in the louvre! this time we hit up some ancient stuff- hamurabi's code! and the victory steele of naram sin, which i swear we wrote about in art history AP. sadly the islamic wing was closed.
We also rode a ferris wheel and a merry go round.

And here I am, back in Aix, halfway through the year and just now starting a blog.

December

December in aix was milder than in the midwest, but still colder than i expected. I hadn't really packed for it, and had to buy an extra blanket and several sweaters.
I had my first (and so far only) oral presentation on the theoretical writings of Charles Jencks in my architecture class right before break, and was very nervous. All i had to do was stand in the front of a room and read my prepared report, but the idea of presenting in french to a room full of native speakers was intimidating. I slurred and stammered my way through it and by the end i felt like i might as well have had 'foreigner' branded on my forehead. oh well.
I had decided before i left the states not to go home for christmas. Instead, I flew to Edinburgh to spend the holidays with my Charlie and Jane, my aunt and uncle. or my grandmothers cousin and his wife, if you want to be technical about it. I arrived there late at night and called only to find that they hadnt received my emails telling them when I would arrive and had been rather worried. Alls well that ends well I guess, though I hated to drop in unannounced!
Edinburgh was warmer than I expected, though very grey. I spent the first few days wandering around the city on my own. I went to the Dean Gallery and the Modern Art Gallery, where I saw a garden sculpture project by the Charles Jencks, who I will never forget after that very memorable presentation!
interesting tid bit: Jencks has created several such landscape art peices in scotland. He also founded the Maggie Center's there, in memory of his late wife Maggie who died of breast cancer. These centers help cancer patients and their families, and Jencks has recruited many famous architects to design them, and has designed landscape art for at least one.
On Christmas eve day Io met up with my friend Dan, another student in provence who lives in Edinburgh, and we went ice skating at the christmas fair.
I have seen Christmas fairs and markets in Nice, Aix, Edinburgh, and Glasgow. I suppose theyre very common here. In Aix, the main street was lined with little wooden huts (complete with fake snow) , where they sold everything from fancy pens and candles to venician carnival masks to chocolate covered pears. My favorites market treats: hot wine and gingerbread. Also popular is barbe à papa, literally translated- papas beard. We call it cotton candy.
Sophie, Charlie and Janes daughter, arrived Christmas eve, and we all went to their friends house for dinner. It was a traditionally latvian meal of fish drop soup, sausage, sour kraut, and mashed potatoes. Afterwards we sang christmas carols, some of them in latin and german.

on homesickness: i expected to be very homesick during the holiday season, since id never been away before. But instead i just felt relaxed and comfortable. I wasn't constantly bombarded with christmas or like anyone was imposing holiday cheer on me. Christmas isn't as extreme in scotland. In fact, as a predominantly protestant country, the celebration of christmas was discouraged for many years for its strong catholic association.

Chritmas day we visited more family in portabello for breakfast and went for a walk along the beach. Then we went to another friends house in Carllops and went for a country walk. The country side in scotland is beautiful. The grass is incredibly green and generally dotted with little white sheep, and the trees were all bare and moody. very muddy though.
We then went back to the house for one of the most amazing dinners of my life.
The cast:
the hosts - a physicist musician and his art historian musician wife, who was wearing a floor length magenta sink robe for the occasion
the guests- ourselves and a french couple, Jean Christoph and Estelle (i just had to share their names). JC was, no joke, a rocket scientist (or aerospace engineer) and a jazz musician. Estelle was a professor of ancient french and barely spoke english. I talked to them a little in french, which was cool.
Before the meal we gathered around the table and popped our crackers. or is it pulled our crackers? opened our crackers? cracked our crackers?? we did whatever it is you do with crackers. inside were little whistles, one for each note of the octave, and our host directed us in christmas carols. the crackers also included paper crowns made out of musical score, which we wore the rest of the evening.
if anyone ever tells you that the british cant cook theyre lying. started with smoked salmon, then turkey, stuffing with sausage and stuffing with chestnuts, brussel sprouts with ginger, cranberries, parsnips, mashed potatoes, all paired with wonderful wine. desert: a flaming brandy pudding with brandy butter and fresh cream.
fun note about the british- all desserts are called puddings. this confused me a lot on my first visit.
the evening ended with music. our hosts were both musicians, and several of their musician friends joined us for music. the orchestra was made up of an oboe, a piano, two recorders, a flute, two violins, a cello, and a guitar. oh, and i 'chimed in' with jingle bells for the grand finale, walking in a winter wonderland. The whole day was magical, I felt like id wandered into hogwarts only to find the cratchets celebrating there.

My dad came to scotland two days later. It was wonderful seeing him. We spent hours walking around Edinburgh talking and catching up. We took a day trip to Glasgow to see the Kelvingrove museum. Its a strange blend of art museum, anthropology museum, and natural history museum. We also went to the scottish national gallery, which is fantastic. I love Raeburn. and tartan pants.

The visit seemed to go very quickly. In the winter, the sun sets in scotland at around 3:30, so we were usually home by dinner time. We visited scotland just a year and a half ago, so we didnt feel pressured to see the sites and act like tourists. It was just wonderfully pleasant, and therefore not very interesting to read about.

Next edition: scottish new years

Catching up

I have been living in France for almost five months, and I am just now starting a blog. I guess better late than never!

So some catch up:

I am spending the academic year in Aix-en-Provence France through a program at IU that also includes participants from University of Michigan and University of Wisconsin. I am taking classes at the Université de Provence, in french, with other french students.

I arrived in France late August, and it was hot beyond belief. I had two suitcases which weighed 50 pounds each, and into which i had stuffed my entire life. And i was tired and cranky.

I spent most of september settling in: opening a bank account, buying a cell phone, and finding the nearest boulangerie. Meanwhile, I had a 3 week intensive language course which covered french language and politics.

It was still ridiculously hot. And I have no air conditioning, and I live on the fourth floor. However (after changing rooms, which was an ordeal), i also have a fantastic view of Mt Saint Victoire, which was made famous by Cezanne, who painted it obsessively.

Class started in October. The university system here is unlike anything i have ever experienced before. Classes werent listed online for some departments until the second week of the semester. Class times and rooms were changed with little or no warning, and every department seemed to operate on a completely different schedule. That first week i showed up at several classes only to find an empty classroom and no explanation. When I finally did find a class that was meeting, i found that i couldnt understand the professor, and didnt actually know what the class was about.

It took me almost three weeks to work out a final class schedule. Which then changed due to a problem with credits, forcing me to jump into a new class almost halfway through the semester.

After a lot of frustration, I ended up taking Psychologie Cognitif, Art après 1945, Expression écrite, Phonetiques, Thèorie d'architecture du XIXe et XXe siecle, and Art Musulman.

During a long weekend in November, I took a train with two other Americans to Strausburg, on the other side of france. The city is right on the German border, and my friends and I were actually able to walk across a bridge into Germany, where we spent a lovely afternoon eating Bretzals. Highlights from the trip: the cathedral, second tallest in france, and spetzle, a noodle-ish dish that i ate with melted gouda.

I also spent a long weekend in Paris. I went with two other art history majors and we absolutely saturated ourselves in culture. Of course we visitied the Louvre, where I almost cried out of excitement in the large format french painting room. I had had a lecture on almost every painting in the room. And in the musée d'orsay we saw a pastel exhibit called Le mystère et l'éclat. I almost couldn't talk afterwards I was so overwhelmed. They had wonderful peices by the big names- Degas, Cassat, Manet and Monet. But they also had some fantastic peices by artists id never heard of- Blanche, Guillaumin, and Lévy-Dhurmer to name just a couple. And Redon!!! they had several Redon pastels!!!
We spent a day at Versaille, where we caught a Jeff Koons exhibit. I have never been a big jeff koons fan, but his work fit right in at versaille. I've never visitied a more ridiculous place. I felt like i was inside of a jewelry box and couldnt get out- every inch of the place was either guilded, carved, covered in velvet, or painted with naked cherubs. And it just kept going. We got lost in the gardens several times, and then accidently stumbled upon marie antoinettes incredibly creepy play village. I think the most interesting part of that visit was seeing a group of japanese women in kimonos getting their pictures taken in the baroque french palace with their obnoxiously high-tech cameras.
We also made it to en exhibit at the Grand Palais- Picasso et ses Maitres. It was incredibly crowded, and honestly i was more overwhelmed by the 'masters' than by the picassos. they had ingres odalesque, a couple of great Manet portraits, some Cezannes, even an El Greco. they did not however have Los Meninas, after which Picasso made forty or fifty variations. instead they just projected it on the wall.
December meant christmas, but more on that some other day!