I have just learned that my Monday B week classes will be in the form of organized debates. I get to pick topics, teach them how to construct/respond to arguments, and facilitate discussion. I’m super excited. These are the kids who are pretty good at English, so they’re trying to do higher level stuff instead of basic grammar. I told the teacher that this setup was wonderful because, as you all know, I love this sort of thing. I don’t get to start with these guys until the end of October, though, because it’s only every other week and they leave for a week to go to England. The question remains: what on earth will I be doing in my other classes??
The kids are starting to warm up. I saw some of the boys I've seen already outside of school today and they shouted "ALLO!" I stopped and talked to them in english for a bit, and they didn't follow it all, which I think embarrassed them in front of their friends. Yes. My job is working...
Wednesday, October 03, 2007
my fellow expats
Let me introduce you to my fellow assistants. First there is Irene, who I don’t know very well yet. She’s from Chili and only speaks French and Spanish. She seems very nice, but I don’t know if we’ll hit it off. She lives with Rhiannon, and I think those two will get along nicely.
Rhiannon is next. She’s the other British assistant at my school, and the first one I met. Rhiannon comes from the northern part of England, up in Leeds. She is also a very sweet girl, but very shy. I could tell she was super nervous about this whole situation. I think she was glad to have me here now, so she wouldn’t be alone. We ate lunch together, and she took me around to get some paperwork done.
Lastly, there’s my flatmate Rachel. Rachel doesn’t actually work at our school, she just boards here because her schools didn’t offer her housing. Her schools are actually very disorganized, and it’s making her very stressed out. I’m thankful my school is taking care of us, and that I only have to work at one school instead of 2 or 3. Rachel is from Lancaster, if you know where that is. She seems quite nice, and I think of all the assistants she and I will get along the best so I’m glad that she’s my flatmate. Her dad and boyfriend Collin were here as well to help her get settled. They are both a riot. Her dad made us dinner, and we had some good wine, and talked for quite a bit. We spent the night going over the language differences for Brits/Americans. It’s a fun game. I told them that I love their use of “brilliant” (among others) and they said I should make it popular in the States. But I told them I’d feel like a poser, to which they just laughed. They imitated ‘top hat’ English gents for me (her dad esp loved do to this), and I pronounced words in my accent for them. It was a good time. They also asked what sort of English things I knew about. They loved that I liked Fawlty Towers, and we would randomly throw some quotes out from it (don’t mention the war!). Collin loved that I knew Randall and Hopkirk (the old one too, not the new one) and about Bob Harris (yes, recent knowledge due to Prof BH). I think we all hit it off nicely. I’m glad that there were people here to make this place feel more homey. I think Rachel too was glad that I finally arrived because it took some of the stress off of her. Her bf/dad were glad as well because I think they were nervous about leaving her soon. Collin asked me to watch out for her, since I seemed strangely well-adjusted, and I assured him that I would. It’s her first time abroad, and I know that can be scary. But I told her that we were going to have a terrific time this year, I’d make sure of it. I think that made everyone feel better. The chipper American is here to help!
My flat is interesting. I don’t think it’s that bad, but my I think my flatmate was disappointed with it (I have already learned that the French have much different standards of living). The only real downside is that I don’t have a room, though they said the computers should be gone in 3-4 weeks. Of course in French time, that could mean all year. I still keep my stuff in the room even though I sleep in the living room because I want to be able to unpack a little, even if stuff just has to go on the floor or on computers. The other thing is that the dampness has made this place prone to mold. Rachel and company already scrubbed down most of it, but there’s some on the ceiling in my room that will have to get cleaned up soon. Oh and there’s no laundry mat within a 2 mile radius, so we’ll be washing clothes in the tub. The only part that might be hard is getting clothes to dry in the damp air. But we’ll worry about that later. After all, I'm in France, so who cares??
On the plus side, the flat is very roomy. When I have my room, we’ll have a total of 2 bedrooms, a WC, a bathroom, a kitchen, a living room, and a balcony. We even have a toaster oven! And for 60 euros a month, I was expecting a hole in the wall, so this was great. All it needs are some posters and lampshades. Oh and my bed needs to not be a rock. Then it will be perfect!
Fear has turned into excitement! Here goes nothing…
Rhiannon is next. She’s the other British assistant at my school, and the first one I met. Rhiannon comes from the northern part of England, up in Leeds. She is also a very sweet girl, but very shy. I could tell she was super nervous about this whole situation. I think she was glad to have me here now, so she wouldn’t be alone. We ate lunch together, and she took me around to get some paperwork done.
Lastly, there’s my flatmate Rachel. Rachel doesn’t actually work at our school, she just boards here because her schools didn’t offer her housing. Her schools are actually very disorganized, and it’s making her very stressed out. I’m thankful my school is taking care of us, and that I only have to work at one school instead of 2 or 3. Rachel is from Lancaster, if you know where that is. She seems quite nice, and I think of all the assistants she and I will get along the best so I’m glad that she’s my flatmate. Her dad and boyfriend Collin were here as well to help her get settled. They are both a riot. Her dad made us dinner, and we had some good wine, and talked for quite a bit. We spent the night going over the language differences for Brits/Americans. It’s a fun game. I told them that I love their use of “brilliant” (among others) and they said I should make it popular in the States. But I told them I’d feel like a poser, to which they just laughed. They imitated ‘top hat’ English gents for me (her dad esp loved do to this), and I pronounced words in my accent for them. It was a good time. They also asked what sort of English things I knew about. They loved that I liked Fawlty Towers, and we would randomly throw some quotes out from it (don’t mention the war!). Collin loved that I knew Randall and Hopkirk (the old one too, not the new one) and about Bob Harris (yes, recent knowledge due to Prof BH). I think we all hit it off nicely. I’m glad that there were people here to make this place feel more homey. I think Rachel too was glad that I finally arrived because it took some of the stress off of her. Her bf/dad were glad as well because I think they were nervous about leaving her soon. Collin asked me to watch out for her, since I seemed strangely well-adjusted, and I assured him that I would. It’s her first time abroad, and I know that can be scary. But I told her that we were going to have a terrific time this year, I’d make sure of it. I think that made everyone feel better. The chipper American is here to help!
My flat is interesting. I don’t think it’s that bad, but my I think my flatmate was disappointed with it (I have already learned that the French have much different standards of living). The only real downside is that I don’t have a room, though they said the computers should be gone in 3-4 weeks. Of course in French time, that could mean all year. I still keep my stuff in the room even though I sleep in the living room because I want to be able to unpack a little, even if stuff just has to go on the floor or on computers. The other thing is that the dampness has made this place prone to mold. Rachel and company already scrubbed down most of it, but there’s some on the ceiling in my room that will have to get cleaned up soon. Oh and there’s no laundry mat within a 2 mile radius, so we’ll be washing clothes in the tub. The only part that might be hard is getting clothes to dry in the damp air. But we’ll worry about that later. After all, I'm in France, so who cares??
On the plus side, the flat is very roomy. When I have my room, we’ll have a total of 2 bedrooms, a WC, a bathroom, a kitchen, a living room, and a balcony. We even have a toaster oven! And for 60 euros a month, I was expecting a hole in the wall, so this was great. All it needs are some posters and lampshades. Oh and my bed needs to not be a rock. Then it will be perfect!
Fear has turned into excitement! Here goes nothing…
First Day
Yves, the friendly English teacher, was waiting for me at the train station. He had the funniest accent. It was like a faux English accent, which was half posh and half just off. It’s hard to describe. I soon found out that he was actually French, but had obviously learned British English. He told me that I had a strong American accent, and I think at times it was hard for him to understand me. I have to learn to slow down and articulate my words. Oh well. Anyway, he brought me back to his house in the country because it was midnight and he didn’t want to wake the other assistant in my flat. When I say his house was in the country, I mean farm/cows/cabin country. It was cute as could be. In the morning he gave me a real country breakfast, which I didn’t seem to have much of a palate for. The homemade yogurt was sour and the cruseli cereal was flavorless. But I was hungry, so I did what I could. Yves played some Britonny music for me, I think so that I’d want to delve into the country/Breton culture while I’m here…which I just might do!
My first day at school was terrifying. I really wasn’t at all scared until I woke up Monday morning and knew that I was about to start work. Yves took me to the school and we got my flat situated first. He warned me that I didn’t have a room yet, because they were using my room to store computers while the school is being renovated. That means I sleep in the living room. Lovely. He asked if I was okay with that, and really, whatever. I pay 60 euros a month; I’m not going to complain. More on the apartment later.
The kids here are terrifying. I had to walk through ‘gaggles’ of them (as my flatmate would call it) to get anywhere, and they all stare! They are also all punks, with their greased up hair and black/dark brown getups. What was I thinking??
The other teachers are as sweet as could be. Sylvie took Rhiannon (the other British assistant) and me to lunch in the canteen. She used to go to this school, and now she teaches English at it. I met more teachers later, and they too were all very friendly. There are 9 English teachers, in all, and I’m afraid it will take me awhile to get to know them all. My tentative schedule has me working with 6 of them! And I thought I’d be bored… Actually, it looks like I’ll be working a little everyday, so no long weekends for me. It’s too hard to get anywhere without a ride to the train station, so I can’t come back late on a Monday. By hard, I mean you need a car to get to a train station that will actually have trains because the one by us you still need a taxi to get to and it won’t get you to many places. This is going to be a problem for next Monday, because the girl from Chili and I both have to go to Paris (for the day) to have our doctor’s appointment. Wonderful. It’s a good 4 hours or so to get to Paris, and who knows where that office is? My teacher said I could take his car, which was very kind of him to offer. It’s too bad I’m not comfortable in a manual car (yes, I know, I should have learned how to drive stick, take it up with Mindy who never let me practice!) and I don’t have an international (or otherwise) driver’s license. In fact, even if I had one, I’d be too terrified to drive in Paris. So, we are in a pickle. We’ll see what happens…
On a good note, the class I sat in on wasn’t bad. Yves told me that the kids had a very good command of English, but I would have disagreed. I guess when I was in high school my French may have been considered ‘good’ for my grade but it still probably sucked. It felt damn good to know English though. There were a few times when the teacher mispronounced things (I know it wasn’t Brit pronunciation because I asked my flatmate later) or said somewhat awkward phrases. He was still really good, mind you, but it felt comforting to know that I at least, if nothing else, have a good command of the subject I’ll be teaching!
Another good note, Yves took the assistants and me shopping, and we got him to recommend some drinks for us. I have bottles of red wine, rose, and cider now in my flat that are all highly praised (and inexpensive). Sweet.
My first day at school was terrifying. I really wasn’t at all scared until I woke up Monday morning and knew that I was about to start work. Yves took me to the school and we got my flat situated first. He warned me that I didn’t have a room yet, because they were using my room to store computers while the school is being renovated. That means I sleep in the living room. Lovely. He asked if I was okay with that, and really, whatever. I pay 60 euros a month; I’m not going to complain. More on the apartment later.
The kids here are terrifying. I had to walk through ‘gaggles’ of them (as my flatmate would call it) to get anywhere, and they all stare! They are also all punks, with their greased up hair and black/dark brown getups. What was I thinking??
The other teachers are as sweet as could be. Sylvie took Rhiannon (the other British assistant) and me to lunch in the canteen. She used to go to this school, and now she teaches English at it. I met more teachers later, and they too were all very friendly. There are 9 English teachers, in all, and I’m afraid it will take me awhile to get to know them all. My tentative schedule has me working with 6 of them! And I thought I’d be bored… Actually, it looks like I’ll be working a little everyday, so no long weekends for me. It’s too hard to get anywhere without a ride to the train station, so I can’t come back late on a Monday. By hard, I mean you need a car to get to a train station that will actually have trains because the one by us you still need a taxi to get to and it won’t get you to many places. This is going to be a problem for next Monday, because the girl from Chili and I both have to go to Paris (for the day) to have our doctor’s appointment. Wonderful. It’s a good 4 hours or so to get to Paris, and who knows where that office is? My teacher said I could take his car, which was very kind of him to offer. It’s too bad I’m not comfortable in a manual car (yes, I know, I should have learned how to drive stick, take it up with Mindy who never let me practice!) and I don’t have an international (or otherwise) driver’s license. In fact, even if I had one, I’d be too terrified to drive in Paris. So, we are in a pickle. We’ll see what happens…
On a good note, the class I sat in on wasn’t bad. Yves told me that the kids had a very good command of English, but I would have disagreed. I guess when I was in high school my French may have been considered ‘good’ for my grade but it still probably sucked. It felt damn good to know English though. There were a few times when the teacher mispronounced things (I know it wasn’t Brit pronunciation because I asked my flatmate later) or said somewhat awkward phrases. He was still really good, mind you, but it felt comforting to know that I at least, if nothing else, have a good command of the subject I’ll be teaching!
Another good note, Yves took the assistants and me shopping, and we got him to recommend some drinks for us. I have bottles of red wine, rose, and cider now in my flat that are all highly praised (and inexpensive). Sweet.
Flight and whatnot
I’ve just arrived at Heathrow, and after walking aimlessly around the duty free shops I’ve finally located a place to sit. Not that I wasn’t just sitting for 7 or so hours, but whatever. I’m in no mood to shop. The flight over wasn’t too bad, but it wasn’t great either. When I walked past the first class sleeper-seats with their ample leg room and privacy screens, I knew those seats weren’t for me. But I thought there were only two sections, first class and cheap class. No. There’s a business class of sorts, and what appeared to be rather comfy oversized chairs that I would be enjoying turned out to be comfy oversized chairs that other more savvy suit-wearing travelers would be enjoying. Disappointed is an understatement when I finally found 48B. I was on the right side of the plane, in the middle seat. Luckily my row buddies consisted of a very nervous exchange student and a sweet old woman traveling with her husband to Turkey for a few weeks. It could have been much worse, I told myself, because I remembered more than a few suspicious smells as people filed into the plane. Well, I got cozy in my middle seat, and watched a movie, some Gray’s Anatomy, and slept a bit. I only got up once, because I didn’t want to disturb the older lady who slept for most of the flight. Thankfully I’m 5 foot nothing so my legs weren’t too smushed (how do tall people stand it?).
My only regret is that I accidentally turned down the wine offered by the flight attendant. I have trained myself to answer “no thanks” to any and all questions that I missed my chance to have my first French wine of the year (in a quaint little bottle, no less). Some of my fellow passengers had two of those nifty things, one for now and one for after dinner. Dinner itself was surprisingly good. Or maybe it wasn’t, but I was so bored I’d have taken anything. I even had tea after dinner, and I hate tea. I took it though, dutifully, because I was on British Airways, and I planned on flying like the British would. Ha! It’s too bad the tea sucked. The sugar packet couldn’t quite flavor what can only be described as hot water with a bitter after taste. I think it might have been Earl Gray. Or actually, it could have been anything, because I know next to nothing about tea. All I know is that the tea I had kind of tasted how I would imagine Earl Gray to taste… Overall, though, the flight was a success. We had quite a bit of turbulence, which I remember loving as a kid (being blissfully unaware of what it could signify). The turbulence helped break up the flight, to change things up a bit. The only really bad part was that after sitting on the plane for close to 7 hours, we had to spend close to an hour still sitting on the plane waiting to disembark. First, the other plane couldn’t back up. Then no one would move the baggage crane things (to which, our captain confidently told us, he was personally sending someone to yell and throw things until the stuff got moved). Then the “jetty” was broken, and we had to wait for stairs, which didn’t come, so they had to just repair the jetty. It would have been funny if I was with a friend, but when you’re sitting there alone the boredom just kills you.
Never connect through Heathrow (or the UK) if you don’t have to. Even when you’re connecting you have to jump through the security hoops again and the lines are treacherous. It was funny though, because the security line looked more like a frat party than anything else. People pulling off belts and shoes in a hurry, chugging their liquids like their lives depended on it. The lady made me chug my water if I wanted to keep my water bottle, which was a bad idea since I had a good 45 min to wait in line before I was able to reach the bathroom! Also, there was a bit of a firealarm scare. I was sitting reading and heard the alarm go off and they made us all evacuate the wing I was in. By the time we crossed over into the middle section you couldn’t hear the alarm, and no one there knew it was going off. Were we safe now, all because we couldn’t hear the alarm? I don’t know. I was too tired to care. I just waited patiently for the alarm to go off, and then I promptly went back to my seat by the window, fire be damned. I swear, this would have all been rather funny with the right company. Such a shame I was alone.
By the time I got to Paris I was ready to be done traveling. I took a bus to Montparnasse and waited for about 4/5 hours for my train to come. By this point something had gone wrong with the wheels on the bottom of my large suitcase, and it didn’t roll properly. Unfortunately, that made wheeling my stuff around the train station quite a pain. Once I was on the train, I had another 3.5 hours to sit and wait for the Villedieu stop. As it turns out, I couldn’t understand the conductor, and I misheard the stop before mine. I asked someone to confirm that it was the right one, and the girl said it was. So I got off and started fiddling with my luggage, when I had a feeling that I should look around me right away. I spotted a sign that said “Vire” not “Villedieu” and I quickly grabbed my stuff and hopped back on the train before it pulled away. Close call.
My only regret is that I accidentally turned down the wine offered by the flight attendant. I have trained myself to answer “no thanks” to any and all questions that I missed my chance to have my first French wine of the year (in a quaint little bottle, no less). Some of my fellow passengers had two of those nifty things, one for now and one for after dinner. Dinner itself was surprisingly good. Or maybe it wasn’t, but I was so bored I’d have taken anything. I even had tea after dinner, and I hate tea. I took it though, dutifully, because I was on British Airways, and I planned on flying like the British would. Ha! It’s too bad the tea sucked. The sugar packet couldn’t quite flavor what can only be described as hot water with a bitter after taste. I think it might have been Earl Gray. Or actually, it could have been anything, because I know next to nothing about tea. All I know is that the tea I had kind of tasted how I would imagine Earl Gray to taste… Overall, though, the flight was a success. We had quite a bit of turbulence, which I remember loving as a kid (being blissfully unaware of what it could signify). The turbulence helped break up the flight, to change things up a bit. The only really bad part was that after sitting on the plane for close to 7 hours, we had to spend close to an hour still sitting on the plane waiting to disembark. First, the other plane couldn’t back up. Then no one would move the baggage crane things (to which, our captain confidently told us, he was personally sending someone to yell and throw things until the stuff got moved). Then the “jetty” was broken, and we had to wait for stairs, which didn’t come, so they had to just repair the jetty. It would have been funny if I was with a friend, but when you’re sitting there alone the boredom just kills you.
Never connect through Heathrow (or the UK) if you don’t have to. Even when you’re connecting you have to jump through the security hoops again and the lines are treacherous. It was funny though, because the security line looked more like a frat party than anything else. People pulling off belts and shoes in a hurry, chugging their liquids like their lives depended on it. The lady made me chug my water if I wanted to keep my water bottle, which was a bad idea since I had a good 45 min to wait in line before I was able to reach the bathroom! Also, there was a bit of a firealarm scare. I was sitting reading and heard the alarm go off and they made us all evacuate the wing I was in. By the time we crossed over into the middle section you couldn’t hear the alarm, and no one there knew it was going off. Were we safe now, all because we couldn’t hear the alarm? I don’t know. I was too tired to care. I just waited patiently for the alarm to go off, and then I promptly went back to my seat by the window, fire be damned. I swear, this would have all been rather funny with the right company. Such a shame I was alone.
By the time I got to Paris I was ready to be done traveling. I took a bus to Montparnasse and waited for about 4/5 hours for my train to come. By this point something had gone wrong with the wheels on the bottom of my large suitcase, and it didn’t roll properly. Unfortunately, that made wheeling my stuff around the train station quite a pain. Once I was on the train, I had another 3.5 hours to sit and wait for the Villedieu stop. As it turns out, I couldn’t understand the conductor, and I misheard the stop before mine. I asked someone to confirm that it was the right one, and the girl said it was. So I got off and started fiddling with my luggage, when I had a feeling that I should look around me right away. I spotted a sign that said “Vire” not “Villedieu” and I quickly grabbed my stuff and hopped back on the train before it pulled away. Close call.
Saturday, September 01, 2007
Good News
I thought I'd put my good news up here so I can remind myself not to stress out about leaving soon. The first, there are at least 2 other girl assistants in my city, and one of them will be teaching at my school (thanks facebook). The girl at my school received information from our school that said there are two "flats" for assistants. I think she got more info because she applied through the British consulate. The good part about living at the school (if I can), is that it usually costs between 0-70 euros/month. Some schools don't charge at all, and I haven't heard of anyone being charged more than 100 euros (utilities included). That sure beats the 300-500 euro apartments I found online. Since I'll only be making around 750 euros a month, I'll need to save every bit I can. If I don't have to pay a lot for housing, then I get to travel more!! The other good news is that I found a swim team online. I emailed the contact person and she said there's an adult team (well, I hope it's a team and not just open swim time) for only 130e for the year. She seemed really nice, and I would love to swim again. It's been so long and I really do miss it. Plus, being on a team would be a great way to make friends (and I'll be needing them). Apart from that, I can happily say that I have my arrete, my visa and my plane ticket. What more do I need?
29 days and counting...
29 days and counting...
Saturday, June 23, 2007
Mon Retour
Well, it's official, I will be heading back to France come September (the 29th, to be exact). I've just received my assignment: assistant English teacher in a public high school. Just when I thought I was done with high school forever, now I have to revisit it in all of it's French glory. 
To be honest, I'm a mixture of total excitement and utter fear. I'm pumped to head back over the pond, but I'm not sure if I'm cut out for the job. I've heard stories, good and bad, and frankly, I'm not an aspiring teacher so I don't know if I'm the right person for the job. I've never taught anything out of the pool in my life, though at least I can say that I'm well versed in the subject matter. But, as any teacher can tell you, knowing the subject yourself and teaching it to people who don't know it are two totally different things. And high schoolers, well they're just a bundle of hormones and teenage angst (yikes). The hard part is that I can't know yet how it'll turn out, because it all depends on the school I'm in and how helpful (or not helpful) the teachers will be. But, I've always been one for an adventure, and it's the crummy circumstances that teach you the most. So maybe I don't want next year to be all daisies and roses... who knows.
Since I'm not exactly well informed about what's going on when I get there, I thought I'd take this time to tell you what I do know. My city, Avranches, is in Lower Normandy, on the north west coast, right next to Mont St Michel (this sweet castle on an island that I always meant to go to but never did --you can see it from Avranches' botanical gardens!). Avranches is a city of a little less than 10,000 (1/4 of the University of Madison...). I'm slightly worried about it's size, but then again, I did the city thing once and I think I might enjoy the quaint small town thing this time around. And besides, this city has been around since the middle ages, so I'll definitely be in for some amazing history. In fact, the library of Avranches stores the ancient manuscripts of Mont St Michel that were moved during the 
Revolution and WWII. There are medieval texts complete with calligraphy and drawings, as well as Diderot's first Encyclopedia. Yeah, I'm a dork, so what. I've also found two evangelical (yes, evangelical!) churches online that are in "downtown" Avranches. So I won't have to rely on mass at the cathedral, and maybe one of the churches will be a happy one! It would be so amazing to meet some Christian French folks while I'm there, not just because I'll need friends in general, but because I'll be in dire need of fellowship.
My saving grace, interestingly, will be the fact that this city has a TRAIN STATION, the best (and my favorite) way to travel. So, if I get bored, it's off to Montpellier to see my buddies down at school there (you remember Elodie, and I met two amazing girls in Madison this semester at the agriculture school down there).
So, once again, I'm looking forward to everyone's wonderful prayers and support. I'll need it much more this time around because I really am flying solo. No other students, no plan, no housing (!!!), no money, no friends, no idea how to teach... you get the idea. But God is good, and He's never left my side. In fact, last time I was in France I felt Him with me more than ever. When you're finally in a country where no one is shouting about God, it's quiet enough for you to hear his real voice. And it's there, waiting to help you along.
To be honest, I'm a mixture of total excitement and utter fear. I'm pumped to head back over the pond, but I'm not sure if I'm cut out for the job. I've heard stories, good and bad, and frankly, I'm not an aspiring teacher so I don't know if I'm the right person for the job. I've never taught anything out of the pool in my life, though at least I can say that I'm well versed in the subject matter. But, as any teacher can tell you, knowing the subject yourself and teaching it to people who don't know it are two totally different things. And high schoolers, well they're just a bundle of hormones and teenage angst (yikes). The hard part is that I can't know yet how it'll turn out, because it all depends on the school I'm in and how helpful (or not helpful) the teachers will be. But, I've always been one for an adventure, and it's the crummy circumstances that teach you the most. So maybe I don't want next year to be all daisies and roses... who knows.
Since I'm not exactly well informed about what's going on when I get there, I thought I'd take this time to tell you what I do know. My city, Avranches, is in Lower Normandy, on the north west coast, right next to Mont St Michel (this sweet castle on an island that I always meant to go to but never did --you can see it from Avranches' botanical gardens!). Avranches is a city of a little less than 10,000 (1/4 of the University of Madison...). I'm slightly worried about it's size, but then again, I did the city thing once and I think I might enjoy the quaint small town thing this time around. And besides, this city has been around since the middle ages, so I'll definitely be in for some amazing history. In fact, the library of Avranches stores the ancient manuscripts of Mont St Michel that were moved during the 
Revolution and WWII. There are medieval texts complete with calligraphy and drawings, as well as Diderot's first Encyclopedia. Yeah, I'm a dork, so what. I've also found two evangelical (yes, evangelical!) churches online that are in "downtown" Avranches. So I won't have to rely on mass at the cathedral, and maybe one of the churches will be a happy one! It would be so amazing to meet some Christian French folks while I'm there, not just because I'll need friends in general, but because I'll be in dire need of fellowship.My saving grace, interestingly, will be the fact that this city has a TRAIN STATION, the best (and my favorite) way to travel. So, if I get bored, it's off to Montpellier to see my buddies down at school there (you remember Elodie, and I met two amazing girls in Madison this semester at the agriculture school down there).
So, once again, I'm looking forward to everyone's wonderful prayers and support. I'll need it much more this time around because I really am flying solo. No other students, no plan, no housing (!!!), no money, no friends, no idea how to teach... you get the idea. But God is good, and He's never left my side. In fact, last time I was in France I felt Him with me more than ever. When you're finally in a country where no one is shouting about God, it's quiet enough for you to hear his real voice. And it's there, waiting to help you along.
Monday, July 17, 2006
When in Rome...
No Ron, that doesn't work here..wait, actually it does...(this anchorman quote goes out to all my french buddies who I miss so much already, this was the last movie we watched together...sad). So as you may have guessed, this is the story of our stay in Rome. It started out kinda rocky. We arrived late and had half and hour to check into our hostel before our spot was given up (somthing about absolutly no checkins after 6pm w/o calling first but we didnt' have the number..you know, the usual). So we prayed, Lord take us to our hostel in time, we don't have any directions (oops, forgot to write those down) or a map, but we know you can get us there. And like the guardian He is, the second we walked off the platform a man approached us and started speaking english. He asked if we had a place to stay (he was a walking info dude). We gave him the address and he traced our route on a map and sent us in the right direction. Needless to say, we got there in time. When we got there we found out that we apparently only booked the one night, not two. This is very bad because online almost everywhere was booked for the time we planned on coming. We were lucky to find this place. But God was watching out for us, and as it turns out our beds happened to be vacent the next night so booked it right away. The hostel itself was a little sketchy but you get to the point where you're expectations aren't real high after traveling for awhile. The shower was a shower head on the wall in the bathroom with a hole in the ground a couple feet from the toilet for the water to drain. But the water pressure was excellent, so I had no complaints. Our room door had only one key that you share with everyone so you have to drop it off and pick it up at the desk everytime. For some reason we could never open the door on our own. We had to ask the dude at the desk everytime. He either thought we were crazy or that we liked him. Oh well.
Now for the exciting stuff. The first night we saw a lot. We walked to the Colesseum, explored the Forum, wandered by the Panetheon and stumbled upone some famous fountains (of which I already forgot the names, but they were cool). Everything was huge. Columns were everywhere, often chillin out and not holding anything up. We soaked it all in. The history there is unbelievable. You can't even comprehend it. You just take in as much as you can. We hit up some more gelato, it was stellar. By the way, hazulnut (the nut used in nutella with chocolate which is the euro version of peanutbutter) and chocolate gelato mixed is a close rival to my old favorite chocolate peanutbutter at Madison. Nothing has come close before. So thats how good it is.
The next morning we made it out to the Vatican before 8 (to beat the crowds) and we stil lwaited another 2 hours in line before we could go in. They had statues galore. We saw cool scenes painted by Rapheal. But the piece de la resistance, as you may have guessed, was seeing the Sistine Chapel. For some reason, I just thought it was a dome or something. I don't know, I was stupid. It's actually a chapel, and a pretty big one at that. The walls and ceiling were covered with Biblical scenes. From the ceiling you could trace the Bible from creation (the famous God man finger touch), Adam and Eve, the flood, all the way through David, Jonah, to John the Baptist and then the scenes of Christ. (i'll finish this post if I ever find my red notebook!)
Now for the exciting stuff. The first night we saw a lot. We walked to the Colesseum, explored the Forum, wandered by the Panetheon and stumbled upone some famous fountains (of which I already forgot the names, but they were cool). Everything was huge. Columns were everywhere, often chillin out and not holding anything up. We soaked it all in. The history there is unbelievable. You can't even comprehend it. You just take in as much as you can. We hit up some more gelato, it was stellar. By the way, hazulnut (the nut used in nutella with chocolate which is the euro version of peanutbutter) and chocolate gelato mixed is a close rival to my old favorite chocolate peanutbutter at Madison. Nothing has come close before. So thats how good it is.
The next morning we made it out to the Vatican before 8 (to beat the crowds) and we stil lwaited another 2 hours in line before we could go in. They had statues galore. We saw cool scenes painted by Rapheal. But the piece de la resistance, as you may have guessed, was seeing the Sistine Chapel. For some reason, I just thought it was a dome or something. I don't know, I was stupid. It's actually a chapel, and a pretty big one at that. The walls and ceiling were covered with Biblical scenes. From the ceiling you could trace the Bible from creation (the famous God man finger touch), Adam and Eve, the flood, all the way through David, Jonah, to John the Baptist and then the scenes of Christ. (i'll finish this post if I ever find my red notebook!)
Venizia, Italia
When the moon hits your eye like a big pizza pie...that's amore! yeah we arrived in Venice today, so this Dean Martin favorite slowly took the place of the sound of music songs playing in our heads. Some may recall this as one of my favorite songs last year, for no apparent reason. But it seemed fitting for our next stop. Not just because the song is quasi-italian, but more because it's so cheesey. And as much as I love Venice, its definitly on the cheesey side.
The first day we got there kind of late in the afternoon. But as usual we try to see the whole city the first night. It's habit or something. So that first afternoon/night we walked the entire city, not an easy task. To find the major spots, like the Rialto bridge and San Marco square, is not someting you can do by looking at a map. Instead you try to point yourself in the right direction and just walk. As you wind through various ally ways and over bridges big and small you start to wonder if you'll ever make it out of the maze that is Venice. Eventually you see signs
with arrows that you faithfully follow for about an hour (though you seem to walk in circles), and eventually you get there. On the way you can stop to admire the many masks in the famous Carnival shops or check out some venician glass in one of their many shops. At some point you find yourself in the middle of a million tourists, and at that point you know you've found something. I didn't mind them as much as most people do. They add another dimension to traveling. They're often a sight to see in and of themselves. I'm one of them. It's wierd. Some of them are way over excited, some frustrated, some spend some much time taking pictures you wonder if they stop to see the city without looking through the lens of thier cameras.I really loved the archetecture here. Everything is old and delicate.
The whole city seems as fragile as the galss they're famous for making. The buildings just scream history and pride, both of which the city seems to hold onto for dear life while it's slowly being adulterated by tourism (the only thing, ironcially, that still keeps it alive). The canals really are cooler then you'd think. There are no cars. The buses are boats. You have to cross more bridges, big and small, then you'd ever imagine. The gondolas are sweet, but too pricey for the likes of me. Its just crazy that they designed and built a city where you need boats to traverse it. You can see many buildings where the steps to the front entrance lead directly from the water, no sidewalk or anything. Bizarre but cool.Dana and I happened to be staying in a suburb of Venice so we went to one of thier local pizzarias for food. The waiter was crazy. He kept telling us about all his specialties and this special cheese his dad makes in Napoli. He was italian, he was a talker...when it came time to order we actually didn't get to order anything. He picked for us. A special not on the menu, but with his dad's special cheese. So we were way confused but it was funny. He came out with flavored pizza crust and a plate of tomatoes and cheese. It was actually really good. A rare dish we probably wouldn't have tried otherwise.
We had to disappoint him later when we declined to hang out with him after work. Oh well.Well we saw al lwe wanted to of Venice in half a day, so we decided to head elsewhere the next day. We thought about Florence, but the David statue was closed and I didn't feel like doing the museam thing all day. So Dana, the genius, suggested finding a beach in Venice. Brilliant. We were joined by our new friend Katie from Washington who has been traveling Europe s
olo. She's super sweet and she was pumped for relaxing for a day. We spent a good afternoon there and got some sun. We got to take a dip in the Adriatic. Life is good. It got even better when we found some gelato on the way home. It's pretty much heaven in a cup.Later that night we got all cleaned up and went back into Venice to see it at night. It was gorgious. The restaurants all had a very romantic ambiance, not to mention the gondolas drifting down the canals. The three of us wandered until we saw the best gelato and we had some more.
We got ourselves to the other side of the city again, and had to maze our way back out. It's much longer when its late and you're tired. But we made it to the train and caught our ride back to the burbs. All in all Venice was about what I expected. Very touristy, but still beautiful and unique. The atmosphere hadn't been killed completely by tourism so I liked it. Now we're headed to Rome where we have 2.5 days to see it all. I have a feeling we're only going to scrape the surface. I'm super pumped. I'm sad that this is our last city till Paris. It's starting to hit me that I might actually have to leave. But for now, I'm taking it all in. Vita vella. Ciao!
Sunday, July 16, 2006
Salzburg, Austria
So the morning we left Switzerland was clear and beautiful, so consequently we had an amazing train ride through the Swiss and Austrian alps. It is seriously undescribable. An eight hour ride could never be so pleasant otherwise. My pictures don't capture a fraction of the beauty I saw. Majestic. That's all I can sa
y to describe it.We got to Salzburg and settled in. It was about 5pm so we didn't want go "sight-seeing" in town. So instead we rented bikes, like old school handle bar and bell bikes. It was awesome. Something about riding a bike just makes you feel like a kid again. I'm not talking about hard core race bikes or mountain biking, but riding just for fun. I recommend it for everyone. So not sure where to go, we just turned towards the biggest mountain (I was told its name a million times but I can't ever remember it because german just sounds like gibberish to me) and rode. On our way towardsit we stumbled upon the Sound of Music house (front entrance) and the lane that Maria walks down with her guitar singing "I have confidence in me!" For those who were unaware, Salzburg was the film location for that movie. We took a tour the next day which is how we knew that what we rode by
was what it was. We also found the gazebo with the very famous I am 16 going on 17 song. We also found several amazing playgrounds (much more fun than US playgrounds) and had the most scenic bike ride ever. You just can't beat a ride along fields with the Alps towering in the background. I'm sorry but no where in WI can compare.The next day started a little rough because we were lacking on sleep (the biggest downfall of hostels, the more people in a room, the higher chance you'll have a loud snorer). But we did the early S of M tour anways and loved it. Our guide was a stich, as Dana says. We met two sweet girls from Texas who sang and goofed off with us. We got to frolick in the park where the kids in the movie ran around singing Do Re Me. We got to tabogin down a Bavarian alp! We saw the beautiful lake district where the church is from the wedding scene.
That afternoon was less eventful because we were pretty tired. We cruised around old downtown. Salzburg is such a pretty town. Now many grocery stores, but no town's perfect. As for cuisine, we both tried strudel, Dana had apple and I had tophen (white cheese?), and I had wienerschitzle cause momma told me to try it. Not too shabby. But now I'm on my way to Italy and I feel like that food will be more to my liking. That night the hostel played S of M so was had to watch it. I'd been so long since I last saw it. But after being in the city and tour it was so cool to see everything and know that I saw it in real life. I know that makes me an official dorky tourist. But I'm okay with that.
Oh and praise God that He got Dana and I to the train station on time. We had the alarm set for 5:15. There was a 6:08 bus we had to catch to make our train. The next one wasn't until 6:45 and wouldnt get us to our 7:04 train on time. Unfortunatly, for reasons unbeknownst to me, I did not hear my alarm. It was either under my pillow or we were just too tired to hear it at all. Miraculously, God woke me up at 5:57 (andI never wake up on my own that early, esp when I'm that tired, and if I do I almost always just roll over and go back to sleep). But when he woke me up he also gave me a sense of urgancy. I checked the alarm clock, freaked out, and jumped up to wake up Dana. Thankfully we packed everything last night so we just got changed, grabbed our stuff and booked it. Nothing left behind, we didn't even check out. We just threw our keys on the counter and ran. We got to the stop as the bus pulled up. A second later and we would have missed the bus and our train. So praise God for looking out for us and waking our butts up.
One last thought about the mountains. They've alternated from being a million different shades of green to rock and snow, from covered with clouds, to perfectly clear. There's somthing about them that I just can't explain. It's like that sometimes. I finally know what they mean when they say "it never ceases to amaze me" because it honestly hasn't. When they're green they give this wonderful impression of life and growth. When they're covered with snow it's like even the scarey jagged edge of the rock cliffs can be softened by something as light and pure as snow, like they're covered by a white veil. Both types express ultimate rest. The mountains aren't in a hurry to go anywhere. They seem content to just be. That's good enough for them. And in doing so they emmanate strength and might. Then sometimes these great mountains are themselves overtaken by clouds, harmless clouds can slowly overtake the giants at rest. And when the clouds do cover them, it's like they're trying to hide this great secret. It also looks like God's there, just chillin on earth, circa Mt Sinai or something. You just feel like you're seeing his 
presence just resting there, watching over the whole world.You will go out in joy and be led forth in peace;
the mountains and hills will burst into song before you,
and all the trees of the field will clap their hands.
Isaiah 55:12
Right now as I ride to Italy, the clouds have almost completely covered the mountains. They're look cloaked in mystery. But it's like a veil that God will lift in his own time. Then we'll all know what's been hidden. And when it's unveiled, like when you see the mountains after the clouds lift, you will have to stand in awe. I know for some of you that brings back a ton of references in the Bible, but that's what I saw when I watched out my train window. I firmly believe, espially now, that God uses his creation to reveal and remind us of Biblical truths. Like the mountains, Jesus is a source of life and growth (like the green ones) but he's also a dicatomy of strength (sharp rock face) and gentle purity (snow). For some the mystery of Christ is still hidden behind a veil of clouds, but it doesn't mean they don't wonder what's behind it all. When God lifts the veil, they'll see the truth. Maybe that didn't make sense to you, but if you saw what I did you'd understand. I find it funny that I haven't heard a sermon all semester but God teaches me just the same by having me look out the window of my train. He likes to do things like that.
Interlocken, Switzerland
So Interlocken, random? A little. Dana and I spent 6 hrs last night planning this trip. Today we were going to go to Cannes for the film festival, but for various reasons we find ourselves today in the middle of the swiss alps. Amazing. We got here, exhausted, and couldn't believe our eyes. On the train the landscape was gradually progressing from flat farmlands to mountains and kelly green fields. When we saw the first mountains with snow cap tops we knew. We were in the swiss alps. Flashback to Torino in Feb... I was awed then and all I saw for the most part was a blizzard. These were the Alps as God made them, in all of their splendor. Thier very presence cried out, worshipping thier creator. I've been told you that you can see God's presence in nature, that his handiwork is written all over just yearning for our attention. I don't think I ever really understood that until today. No picture could do it justice.
When we finally reached Interlocken I was kind of disappointed that most of the mountains were covered in clouds and that the rain was pouring pretty steadily.
But Dana and I trekked out anyways. We went on a hike up the mountain that reaches up above our hostel. It rained, it was cold, it was definitly slippery, but we kept on hiking. God rewarded us ten fold. We reached one clearing that must have put us exactly between two clouds, the fog below and the raind clouds above. As we watched, we praised God for lifting the veil of clouds off the mountains for us to see. As we praised Him, the clouds on the mouintians across from us started clearing away. We was giving us a special show, no more than a few minutes, that no one else probably saw today. With the weather as it was, we had to be in that exact spot at that exact time to see it! After that the clouds came back and we were back in our hazy fog. To thank God for for his special show, we started singing. We sang any and every worship song we could think of. God protected our steps as we climbed higher and higher (but we barely made any progress in comparison to the hugeness of the mountain itself). Singing and going up hill, not easy. But we sang anyways. The way down was easier. We sang "our God is 
an awesome God" and the thunder part (there's lighting in his footsteps and thunder in his fists) when we heard thunder in the background. Maybe we should have been concerned that we were up a mountain in the middle of a thunderstorm, but it didn't even register to us at the time. But why worry about that, God was there. So was a runner, apparently, who smiled as he passed us letting us know that he heard our little concert as he ran by (I wonder if he knew english?).When we got back down we were soaked to the bone. It was hard to believe that so muched happened in just one day. Tomorrow we leave at 6am for Austria. Who knows what God has in store for us there...
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