Hello my beloved friends,
I have to share with you one of the best taxi rides I have ever had in my entire life. If I hadn't left my friends at that exact moment and if that taxi had not stopped just in front of me, I would not have been gifted with such a peaceful and generous ride. It was just conversation - simple, giving and honest. He asked me about my night. That's how it started. I told him it was wonderful, but the best part was the lights on the trees on the Champs-Elysees. Christmas is near. But in fact, he countered that it is still a long ways away. I agreed, but I pointed out that unlike the United States, where I'm from, there are other holidays that postpone the celebration of Christmas too early. And so we got to talking about family, where we come from, what I'm doing here in Paris...it will stay with me forever. And I got un petit bisous out of it. Charming, so charming a man. I will carry those fifteen minutes in my heart forever.
Tuesday, November 17, 2009
Tuesday, November 3, 2009
My Humble Restart
Hi guys...shall I wait for the awkward pause as you glare at me? I know I can feel your stares of death caused by my gigantic lack of updates. So let's take this slow. See, it started with me coming home at 3:30 in the morning from Le Duplex on the 16th of September which feels simultaneously like a million years ago and yesterday. I meant to update you the moment I got home, but see I got a wee bit sick on my way home. I had the most gracious taxi driver. Thank goodness for Paris and its abundance of public trash bags/bins. No joke, there are about three on every block. Anyway, after that unlady-like moment, I got home, engorged myself with water, and went to bed. Then, the next day I had the intention to update you. I mean, seriously, it was my FIRST TIME EVER in a club. A real live club which I must say is a lot like a high school dance with booze. DUDE, I wore my little black dress too! Oh for the first time and it was so lovely. I wish I could have worn heels, but we walk a lot in Paris. Plus, that night we danced til we dropped. Okay, we danced til we wanted to sit down and chill, but it sounds better when I say it the other way.
But not just that, but hey! I had a great weekend before that. I made friends! Don't you remember how silly and worried I was no one would like me? Indeed, I was silly, but also I have to say I was and am very lucky to be in the class I am. Everyone (except for a girl that came later) came to Paris on their own. What up! Therefore, not only did we all share the same fear, but we all became fast friends and true friends, I must add. Honestly, I think I've made at least three or four lifelong friends. Let's be honest. It seems to be my favorite word... If I treat them better than I have treated this blog, I can trust that at least a meaningful connection can be maintained. I have noticed though, if I may digress a little, that I have the horrendous habit of leaving things be for a little too long. From emails to friendships...I tend to put them on the back burner far too long so that they indeed burn a bit. I mean, how embarrassing is it to respond to an email you received over 6 months ago? Too embarrassing. And how uncomfortable is that first conversation in a very long time with someone you considered a great friend? Too uncomfortable...okay, this subject could be a whole entry in itself, but I need to get back on track.
Oh gosh! Then, my second weekend with friends(! that is an exclamation point of utmost joy), I went to the sweet little town of Giverny, the home of beloved Impressionist painter, Claude Monet. Oh, his garden was stunning. And we were so lucky to catch it in the middle of September before all the flowers died. I went Marisol who I consider to be my closest girlfriend here. She is awesome and so funny and thoughtful. If I could and I will now sum her up in one word, it is fiery. Seriously that girl, once you get past the timid exterior, she blows your mind. Oh and we learned an important lesson about day trips that day. Scout out how much you can do when you go somewhere. We took a train around 8am, arrived at about 9:30, saw the garden and the house in about 2 hours, walked around to the various cafes to find the best deal for lunch, ate lunch (duh), and then, nothing. Really, we ran out of things to do. Oh no, we found Monet's grave and revered it for a bit. Then, there were these other expos of local artists. We saw these great sand sculptures. There was an awesome alligator and an epic Last Supper tableau. Okay, and then nothing. We walked around some more. In fact, we almost walked back to the station. We had taken a bus to get to the town, but the schedule was really confusing and we thought we had to wait two hours for the next one, but in a great moment of luck, within a half hour a bus pulled up that technically was not supposed to take us back. However, good people grace the earth and we didn't have to wait. We ended up at this cafe by the train station with two and a half hours before our ride back so we watched a movie on Marisol's iPod. Right so the moral of the story is, plan your day so you profit the most.
I'm going to pause the update here, but trust that this is only part one and many more updates will come. Je vous le promets. :)
I miss you all. I love you all.
But not just that, but hey! I had a great weekend before that. I made friends! Don't you remember how silly and worried I was no one would like me? Indeed, I was silly, but also I have to say I was and am very lucky to be in the class I am. Everyone (except for a girl that came later) came to Paris on their own. What up! Therefore, not only did we all share the same fear, but we all became fast friends and true friends, I must add. Honestly, I think I've made at least three or four lifelong friends. Let's be honest. It seems to be my favorite word... If I treat them better than I have treated this blog, I can trust that at least a meaningful connection can be maintained. I have noticed though, if I may digress a little, that I have the horrendous habit of leaving things be for a little too long. From emails to friendships...I tend to put them on the back burner far too long so that they indeed burn a bit. I mean, how embarrassing is it to respond to an email you received over 6 months ago? Too embarrassing. And how uncomfortable is that first conversation in a very long time with someone you considered a great friend? Too uncomfortable...okay, this subject could be a whole entry in itself, but I need to get back on track.
Oh gosh! Then, my second weekend with friends(! that is an exclamation point of utmost joy), I went to the sweet little town of Giverny, the home of beloved Impressionist painter, Claude Monet. Oh, his garden was stunning. And we were so lucky to catch it in the middle of September before all the flowers died. I went Marisol who I consider to be my closest girlfriend here. She is awesome and so funny and thoughtful. If I could and I will now sum her up in one word, it is fiery. Seriously that girl, once you get past the timid exterior, she blows your mind. Oh and we learned an important lesson about day trips that day. Scout out how much you can do when you go somewhere. We took a train around 8am, arrived at about 9:30, saw the garden and the house in about 2 hours, walked around to the various cafes to find the best deal for lunch, ate lunch (duh), and then, nothing. Really, we ran out of things to do. Oh no, we found Monet's grave and revered it for a bit. Then, there were these other expos of local artists. We saw these great sand sculptures. There was an awesome alligator and an epic Last Supper tableau. Okay, and then nothing. We walked around some more. In fact, we almost walked back to the station. We had taken a bus to get to the town, but the schedule was really confusing and we thought we had to wait two hours for the next one, but in a great moment of luck, within a half hour a bus pulled up that technically was not supposed to take us back. However, good people grace the earth and we didn't have to wait. We ended up at this cafe by the train station with two and a half hours before our ride back so we watched a movie on Marisol's iPod. Right so the moral of the story is, plan your day so you profit the most.
I'm going to pause the update here, but trust that this is only part one and many more updates will come. Je vous le promets. :)
I miss you all. I love you all.
Monday, September 14, 2009
My first week!
Hello everyone!
Wow, I have waited too long to write another entry. Apologies, but it has been a whirlwind of a week, let me tell you. No really, let me tell you. Classes are pretty swell except for the very inconvenient schedule. Monday, Thursday and Friday I have an hour lecture from noon to one. Monday covers French Literature. Thursday is La Francophonie or French History. And Friday is Art History. Then, until October 6th, I have a phonetics class everyday from 2:30 to 3:30. To conclude, I have a language class from 5:00-7:00 everyday. It really fills up my day, but I've noticed that all my new friends don't mind the schedule much and make travel plans or skip or do whatever young people do. It makes me a little more comfortable to deal with my schedule with a more relaxed state of mind as well. Trust me, I don't plan on never going to class. Does that even sound like something I would do? But in order to get the cheapest flights or make the most of my time here, I plan on bending the schedule a bit (i.e., take a Friday or two off or fly back on Monday morning instead of Sunday night). I hope you don't mind. Here are the places I plan and hope to visit in no particular order:
Bruges, Belgium
Rome, Italy
Barcelona, Spain
Aix-en-Provence, France
St. Malo, France
London, England
Vienna, Austria
Amsterdam, Netherlands
Dublin, Ireland
Rabat, Morocco
San Torini/Athens, Greece
Geneva, Switzerland
Budapest, Turkey
Thoughts? I feel like I'm pushing it a little. I do wish I could spend a year here, but in order to secure that I graduate within the four year "plan" at university, I must return for Winter and Spring quarters at SU. And hey, if I don't make it within my three months here, I can always go back during the summer or even next year. The glass is always half full, friends.
Anyway, so my first week here was fantastic! I made such nice friends from all over the place. I was so wrong about not finding anyone to like me. In my language class alone, I found a great handful of people who are doing this program by themselves. Instant friends, I say! Shall I name them for you? Maybe that will make future stories more clear. Alright, here's a cast list:
Marisol from Mexico City
Josh from a little town in Georgia
Jack from Leeds
Daniela from Cancun
Isabelle from Sydney
Jose Luis also from Mexico City
Anders from Denmark
Mayra from San Diego
Andie from Washington DC
Jessica from London
Kevin from Dublin
Liz from Minneapolis
Michelle from...I'm not sure, but she's incredibly well traveled.
Voila! Your cast. So yes, let's get to the interesting part - my weekend! Friday I had made plans with Mayra to get some Asian food for dinner because we were both missing it. She was the first person I talked to on the day I took my placement exams. It took us a bit to coordinate but by Friday it had escalated to ten people! The more the merrier holds water here. We traipsed around Chinatown (yes, even Paris has a modest Chinatown) in search of Thai, but I spotted a cool looking Japanese place because we were getting grumpy from hunger and suggested we go there. It was reasonably priced and wouldn't you know, there was a perfect table for ten in the front of the restaurant. I call it fate. After a delicious meal (I had rice!!!! And gyoza!!), we decided to look for a bar. We let Kevin, the Irish guy lead...not the best decision, but luckily Andie (who is completely awesome in my book) and I decided to get Nutella crepes on the way. We finally made it to a tiny little cafe/bar and wedged our way in. The drinks were expensive, but after returning to the same area the next day, I realized we had gotten a pretty good deal. Most cocktails teeter around the 8 or 9 euro price. I got a nice little mixed drink (Legally, I might add, because I'm in Europe and American jurisdiction about "underage drinking" does not concern me.) and enjoyed my new friends' company. We all decided to exchange information and that's when the mini burn book happened. In Mayra's book people were drawing pictures of each other by their information...one thing led to another and it got a little silly. To put a slight damper on the night, the metro stops at 1am, so we had to break up at about 12:30, but I could definitely feel the beginnings of a mad party. When I ran into Andie today, she suggested we do something this weekend, so I'm not worried.
I got home around 1am and instead of going to bed straight away like any normal person, I watched a couple episodes of Bones. It's bad, man. I'm addicted. I watch it too much! I must stop!...tomorrow? Deal. Then, for lunch on Saturday I met up with Josh, Marisol, Liz, Liz's friend Diana and Anders. We ended up at this little Italian pizza place. It wasn't overpriced, but I wasn't exactly impressed so I'm thinking I'll keep it off my radar. If I want good pizza, I'll go back to Rome. I'll tell you before I get into it that Saturday was a long day. We met at noon and I didn't get back until 2 in the morning. And really, a lot of it was wandering around aimlessly. We were trying to find rue Oberkampf which is known for its bars and such. And the friends who were supposed to meet kept pushing back out rendez-vous time so we sort of were at a loss. I'll tell you the best parts. We found a lovely canal in the 11th arrondisement and sat for an hour just chatting, getting lost in our own thoughts and enjoying the tranquility. I got a McFlurry! They are amazing here. The only thing is I wish there was an Oreo one, but they put hot fudge or caramel in it if you want! Talk about happiness in a cup. We went to three bars. I had two glasses of rose wine, a peach kamikaze shooter and some weird bubble gum shooter (never again.) Woo! But don't you worry about me, I had some McDonalds to help soak up the alcohol and as soon as I got home I drank a half liter of water. Smartie.
Let's move on to Sunday. It was definitely my favorite day. I met up with Liz and Marisol again and we tried to find a vintage market which totally backfired and ended up being some street market for random odds and ends and old clothes and shoes. Old, not vintage. Thanks to Liz, we took the metro to the Jewish Quarter and had an amazing afternoon! We started with a delicious lunch at this great Israeli restaurant chock full of adorable waiters. We had to wait for a while, but it was completely worth the wait. I'm definitely going back. I had a shwarma wrap in soft and warm pita bread, shared a huge bowl of french fries and was lucky to have the cutest waiter in the whole place. Ha! Our new hobby is to try and covertly take pictures of cute waiters, guys on the metro, the street without being obvious. Wish us luck, we all got so giggly that first time. I'm sure he knew what were up to, but check out my facebook for my successful but slightly blurry photo. We walked a bit to help ease our full bellies and found ourselves in a vintage store. So. Many. Beautiful. Stores! Oh, I was so close to buying a gorgeous cocktail ring. I'm sure once I go back, I'll find it and buy it with the money I should be using for food. I know I'm bad. I probably won't do that, but I'll pretend and wear it around the store until we leave. I closed the closed with a Nutella crepe (please note: this crepe thing will be a very common theme) and mass at the Notre Dame. Lovely as it was, Marisol and I hope to go somewhere with a smaller congregation and empty of all annoying toursits and their endlessly crying babies.
I will continue to keep you updated, my lovelies. Let's try for every Monday? You might be lucky and I could throw in an extra one, but you might also be unlucky and I could forget to write one. Let's hope it's the former.
I love you and miss you all.
Wow, I have waited too long to write another entry. Apologies, but it has been a whirlwind of a week, let me tell you. No really, let me tell you. Classes are pretty swell except for the very inconvenient schedule. Monday, Thursday and Friday I have an hour lecture from noon to one. Monday covers French Literature. Thursday is La Francophonie or French History. And Friday is Art History. Then, until October 6th, I have a phonetics class everyday from 2:30 to 3:30. To conclude, I have a language class from 5:00-7:00 everyday. It really fills up my day, but I've noticed that all my new friends don't mind the schedule much and make travel plans or skip or do whatever young people do. It makes me a little more comfortable to deal with my schedule with a more relaxed state of mind as well. Trust me, I don't plan on never going to class. Does that even sound like something I would do? But in order to get the cheapest flights or make the most of my time here, I plan on bending the schedule a bit (i.e., take a Friday or two off or fly back on Monday morning instead of Sunday night). I hope you don't mind. Here are the places I plan and hope to visit in no particular order:
Bruges, Belgium
Rome, Italy
Barcelona, Spain
Aix-en-Provence, France
St. Malo, France
London, England
Vienna, Austria
Amsterdam, Netherlands
Dublin, Ireland
Rabat, Morocco
San Torini/Athens, Greece
Geneva, Switzerland
Budapest, Turkey
Thoughts? I feel like I'm pushing it a little. I do wish I could spend a year here, but in order to secure that I graduate within the four year "plan" at university, I must return for Winter and Spring quarters at SU. And hey, if I don't make it within my three months here, I can always go back during the summer or even next year. The glass is always half full, friends.
Anyway, so my first week here was fantastic! I made such nice friends from all over the place. I was so wrong about not finding anyone to like me. In my language class alone, I found a great handful of people who are doing this program by themselves. Instant friends, I say! Shall I name them for you? Maybe that will make future stories more clear. Alright, here's a cast list:
Marisol from Mexico City
Josh from a little town in Georgia
Jack from Leeds
Daniela from Cancun
Isabelle from Sydney
Jose Luis also from Mexico City
Anders from Denmark
Mayra from San Diego
Andie from Washington DC
Jessica from London
Kevin from Dublin
Liz from Minneapolis
Michelle from...I'm not sure, but she's incredibly well traveled.
Voila! Your cast. So yes, let's get to the interesting part - my weekend! Friday I had made plans with Mayra to get some Asian food for dinner because we were both missing it. She was the first person I talked to on the day I took my placement exams. It took us a bit to coordinate but by Friday it had escalated to ten people! The more the merrier holds water here. We traipsed around Chinatown (yes, even Paris has a modest Chinatown) in search of Thai, but I spotted a cool looking Japanese place because we were getting grumpy from hunger and suggested we go there. It was reasonably priced and wouldn't you know, there was a perfect table for ten in the front of the restaurant. I call it fate. After a delicious meal (I had rice!!!! And gyoza!!), we decided to look for a bar. We let Kevin, the Irish guy lead...not the best decision, but luckily Andie (who is completely awesome in my book) and I decided to get Nutella crepes on the way. We finally made it to a tiny little cafe/bar and wedged our way in. The drinks were expensive, but after returning to the same area the next day, I realized we had gotten a pretty good deal. Most cocktails teeter around the 8 or 9 euro price. I got a nice little mixed drink (Legally, I might add, because I'm in Europe and American jurisdiction about "underage drinking" does not concern me.) and enjoyed my new friends' company. We all decided to exchange information and that's when the mini burn book happened. In Mayra's book people were drawing pictures of each other by their information...one thing led to another and it got a little silly. To put a slight damper on the night, the metro stops at 1am, so we had to break up at about 12:30, but I could definitely feel the beginnings of a mad party. When I ran into Andie today, she suggested we do something this weekend, so I'm not worried.
I got home around 1am and instead of going to bed straight away like any normal person, I watched a couple episodes of Bones. It's bad, man. I'm addicted. I watch it too much! I must stop!...tomorrow? Deal. Then, for lunch on Saturday I met up with Josh, Marisol, Liz, Liz's friend Diana and Anders. We ended up at this little Italian pizza place. It wasn't overpriced, but I wasn't exactly impressed so I'm thinking I'll keep it off my radar. If I want good pizza, I'll go back to Rome. I'll tell you before I get into it that Saturday was a long day. We met at noon and I didn't get back until 2 in the morning. And really, a lot of it was wandering around aimlessly. We were trying to find rue Oberkampf which is known for its bars and such. And the friends who were supposed to meet kept pushing back out rendez-vous time so we sort of were at a loss. I'll tell you the best parts. We found a lovely canal in the 11th arrondisement and sat for an hour just chatting, getting lost in our own thoughts and enjoying the tranquility. I got a McFlurry! They are amazing here. The only thing is I wish there was an Oreo one, but they put hot fudge or caramel in it if you want! Talk about happiness in a cup. We went to three bars. I had two glasses of rose wine, a peach kamikaze shooter and some weird bubble gum shooter (never again.) Woo! But don't you worry about me, I had some McDonalds to help soak up the alcohol and as soon as I got home I drank a half liter of water. Smartie.
Let's move on to Sunday. It was definitely my favorite day. I met up with Liz and Marisol again and we tried to find a vintage market which totally backfired and ended up being some street market for random odds and ends and old clothes and shoes. Old, not vintage. Thanks to Liz, we took the metro to the Jewish Quarter and had an amazing afternoon! We started with a delicious lunch at this great Israeli restaurant chock full of adorable waiters. We had to wait for a while, but it was completely worth the wait. I'm definitely going back. I had a shwarma wrap in soft and warm pita bread, shared a huge bowl of french fries and was lucky to have the cutest waiter in the whole place. Ha! Our new hobby is to try and covertly take pictures of cute waiters, guys on the metro, the street without being obvious. Wish us luck, we all got so giggly that first time. I'm sure he knew what were up to, but check out my facebook for my successful but slightly blurry photo. We walked a bit to help ease our full bellies and found ourselves in a vintage store. So. Many. Beautiful. Stores! Oh, I was so close to buying a gorgeous cocktail ring. I'm sure once I go back, I'll find it and buy it with the money I should be using for food. I know I'm bad. I probably won't do that, but I'll pretend and wear it around the store until we leave. I closed the closed with a Nutella crepe (please note: this crepe thing will be a very common theme) and mass at the Notre Dame. Lovely as it was, Marisol and I hope to go somewhere with a smaller congregation and empty of all annoying toursits and their endlessly crying babies.
I will continue to keep you updated, my lovelies. Let's try for every Monday? You might be lucky and I could throw in an extra one, but you might also be unlucky and I could forget to write one. Let's hope it's the former.
I love you and miss you all.
Sunday, September 6, 2009
My First Day as Dora the Explora...minus the Dora part
It has been a while since my last update, I know. I'm sorry, but I got a bit sick and I'm well on the road to recovery. In fact, I spent today exploring and walking my healthy and able body around the city. I for got my camera which was a huge no-no, but that just means you get colorful, rich and detailed descriptions. Doesn't that make it all better? I thought so. First, I should tell you I spent all of yesterday poring over the Paris guidebook my host mom lent me. It's great - a detailed book that covers all bases pretty well. I decided to start with one of the city's well-known flea markets and end with mass at the Notre Dame. I found out the one at Porte de Vanves was only a half hour walk from my apartment, so I decided to take a stroll. Best idea I have had all week, I tell you. It took me so much longer than a half hour to find this place because A) I have the worst sense of direction and B) I had spectacular stops along the way.
I was doing great with the map after I got lost just five minutes after leaving my place. A friendly local pointed me in the right direction and I was golden for a good while. Then, I ran into this lovely weekend book market. Oh, how I wish I had my camera! But it's every weekend, so I am quite a lucky duck. Along with a beautiful and varied array of books from dozens of vendors, I came at the perfect time - lunch time - to see all the vendors enjoying their meals. There were these three men that stood out in particular. The shared this small round table and each of their stalls were just behind them. On their plates they had this delicious looking roasted chicked and potatoe croquettes. Yum! And of course there was a great big bottle of wine in the center for them to share. I wish I could have joined them. I continued on my way through the books and found a stand of little books. Wait, let me describe what the place looked like becase there weren't any separate stalls or shelves or stands at all. I don't know what to call them, but they looked like gigantic unpolished wood crates. The books were all neatly organized, piled, and displated on them. Have you ever been to Costco? And you've seen the books and movies section, right? Yes, well, it's sort of like that, but so much better. The books are just out, doing what they do, waiting to be picked up and looking gorgeous. Oh, I must take pictures when I go next weekend. Back to the little books I found. They were so lovely! I found these purple leather ones that enticed me so. There was one on zodiac signs, another on the lines in the palm of the hand and the third (the one I wanted to buy the most) was on the language of flowers. All three were goldleafed on the front and the edges of the pages were tipped with gold as well. Delicate old books were wrapped carefully in waxpaper. I loved that. It made them so fragile despite the wax paper being meant for protection. There were pocket version of Moliere plays, Romeo and Juilet, books on the lives of saints. And I found a few copies of Tristan and Iseult which reminded me of Juan and Dr. Matriotti.
Alas, I had to move along and that's when my sense of direction began to falter. I ended up walking in the opposite direction of where I needed to be again, but I found this out on my own when my 15 minutes of walking came to nothing but more boring sidewalk. I take that back a little. My walk although useless was quite lovely. There was a bikers' path on my left and the rest of the sidewalk was wide and open for pedestrians. The French lightrail ran through the middle of the street and it was nice to watch because it was swift and quiet and it held so many people. There were these great trees. They looked like aspens, but I couldn't be sure. And so, I had to turn myself around and found myself walking into a fresh fruit and vegetable market. It was so alive! People were reaching above my head for the colorful hanging plastic sacks to fill them with fresh produce. There was a vendor yelling out to people as they passed to see how his fruits were the nicest. But the best part about it was there were a lot of Middle Eastern people (the vendors too) and they were talking in Arabic! Ahh! The other language I kind of know. No but really, I heard little snitches of things like Oh you're from Egypt?, Go!, Hurry!, No! Yes! Hello! I felt so cool to be able to be in a foreign country and understand two languages different from my own native tongue. I ended up buying four beautiful nectarines that had the unfortunate fate of hanging out in my huge purse all day. I'm glad I had such a big purse! Man, I fit everything in there. My cardigan, guidebook, day planner, wallet, sunglasses, four necartines, a bottle of peach iced tea, chapstick and a bunch of other little items. Whew! So awesome!
I moved on and got directions to the flea market I had intentions to go to two hours before, but when I found it the morning crowd was already packed up and leaving and I think the afternoon vendors were going to fill in but I didn't want to wait for hours just to see if it would open again. I have time! I'll go back. Instead, I took the metro the Ile-de- la Cite where the Notre Dame is. On my way there I found a beautiful scarf that someone dropped. I held it in my hand so that if anyone saw it and claimed it as theirs I could give it back. Lucky for me, no one said anything. Yeah! I got a new and beautiful scarf. So I made it to the 5th Arrondisement and got lost again so I had to gain my bearings. OH! I forgot to mention as I was walking out of the metro, I found myself at the beginning of another street market. This time it was for birds and pets. Seriously, cages of chickens, roosters, canaries, what-have-you. I was going to walk down it, but it was kind of stinky so I passed. After standing next to a rack of postcards for 15 minutes, I gave up trying to find myself on my map and I just walked straight. Boy, was I bit by the lucky bug but I stumbled upon Place de St. Michel - so close to my school! I realized I was hungry so I walked down a little alley off the Place and found Boulangerie de Papa where there was a little crepe stand attached to it. And for less that 4 euro I was able to buy and enjoy a huge ham and cheese crepe. SO GOOD. I'll definitely be going back. I spent an hour in their patio/sitting area looking over my book and making notes about where the good bars were. Don't worry, I'm not looking for a night a insanity...just a little harmless mayhem. I kid, but not really.
Afterwards, I decided to walk and just see where I would end up. Luck again, I realized I was walking down rue de St. Gernain which connected me to rue St. Jacques. Why is this important? These streets are just minutes from the main office of my program/school. I decided to map out where I would be going tomorrow so I didn't get (inevitably) lost. After 45 minutes of getting on and off track, I found it! Wow, it was a tiny, tiny street just behind the Pantheon which has about a dozen tiny, tiny streets leading off of it. I recorded the directions in my Blackberry and I'll be set for tomorrow. I bought myself a celebratory McFlurry. They put caramel or fudge in theirs! It was amazing, but I think next time I'll get a different type of candy.
Finished my treat and headed to the Cathedral. It's always nice just retracing your steps. You always know you're going the right way. Once I realized I was an hour early for mass, I checked out the little souvenir shops (cough-tourist traps-cough) and admired the pashminas. I was about to get three for 12 euros, but I remembered there was a shop in Montparnasse that had the same if not better scarves in more colors and they were three for 10 euro. I showed them! I decided to sit in the courtyard-ish area in front of the Notre Dame and wait until 6 to get in so that I would have a seat. Of course, I panicked because the line was so long that I ended up getting inside at 6. When I made my way in I panicked because I heard singing and I thought I got the time wrong. After about 15 minutes or so I realized I was sitting in on Vespers and so I enjoyed it and waited for mass. Good choice. After the singing, I moved up a bit and got a better seat. It was a really nice mass that could have been a billion times better if they closed it off to tourists who wander around and take flash pictures and sit in the service and then move and make noise after 2 minutes. Gosh! But it was sweet because a cardinal presided over it. I should have written his name down, but I got a picture of him on my phone, which makes up for it, right? He gave a homily that I could really understand. It was good it was on a topic and gospel reading I had heard many times. I would go back, but I think my goal is to find a beautiful mass sans annoying tourist boogers. Maybe it'll die down when summer is really over.
Right after mass I took the metro back to my apartment...you know, I'll need to figure out the bus and light rail system, but the metro map is just so much easier to read right now. I skyped with Tomas and then Juan, got my backpack ready for school and tentatively chosemy outfit. I am so excited for my first day!!! I hope everyone is nice. My goal is to make one stable, adventurous, nice and good natured friend. My expectations don't seem too high, right?
Wish me luck! I'm off to bed. Bon nuit!
I was doing great with the map after I got lost just five minutes after leaving my place. A friendly local pointed me in the right direction and I was golden for a good while. Then, I ran into this lovely weekend book market. Oh, how I wish I had my camera! But it's every weekend, so I am quite a lucky duck. Along with a beautiful and varied array of books from dozens of vendors, I came at the perfect time - lunch time - to see all the vendors enjoying their meals. There were these three men that stood out in particular. The shared this small round table and each of their stalls were just behind them. On their plates they had this delicious looking roasted chicked and potatoe croquettes. Yum! And of course there was a great big bottle of wine in the center for them to share. I wish I could have joined them. I continued on my way through the books and found a stand of little books. Wait, let me describe what the place looked like becase there weren't any separate stalls or shelves or stands at all. I don't know what to call them, but they looked like gigantic unpolished wood crates. The books were all neatly organized, piled, and displated on them. Have you ever been to Costco? And you've seen the books and movies section, right? Yes, well, it's sort of like that, but so much better. The books are just out, doing what they do, waiting to be picked up and looking gorgeous. Oh, I must take pictures when I go next weekend. Back to the little books I found. They were so lovely! I found these purple leather ones that enticed me so. There was one on zodiac signs, another on the lines in the palm of the hand and the third (the one I wanted to buy the most) was on the language of flowers. All three were goldleafed on the front and the edges of the pages were tipped with gold as well. Delicate old books were wrapped carefully in waxpaper. I loved that. It made them so fragile despite the wax paper being meant for protection. There were pocket version of Moliere plays, Romeo and Juilet, books on the lives of saints. And I found a few copies of Tristan and Iseult which reminded me of Juan and Dr. Matriotti.
Alas, I had to move along and that's when my sense of direction began to falter. I ended up walking in the opposite direction of where I needed to be again, but I found this out on my own when my 15 minutes of walking came to nothing but more boring sidewalk. I take that back a little. My walk although useless was quite lovely. There was a bikers' path on my left and the rest of the sidewalk was wide and open for pedestrians. The French lightrail ran through the middle of the street and it was nice to watch because it was swift and quiet and it held so many people. There were these great trees. They looked like aspens, but I couldn't be sure. And so, I had to turn myself around and found myself walking into a fresh fruit and vegetable market. It was so alive! People were reaching above my head for the colorful hanging plastic sacks to fill them with fresh produce. There was a vendor yelling out to people as they passed to see how his fruits were the nicest. But the best part about it was there were a lot of Middle Eastern people (the vendors too) and they were talking in Arabic! Ahh! The other language I kind of know. No but really, I heard little snitches of things like Oh you're from Egypt?, Go!, Hurry!, No! Yes! Hello! I felt so cool to be able to be in a foreign country and understand two languages different from my own native tongue. I ended up buying four beautiful nectarines that had the unfortunate fate of hanging out in my huge purse all day. I'm glad I had such a big purse! Man, I fit everything in there. My cardigan, guidebook, day planner, wallet, sunglasses, four necartines, a bottle of peach iced tea, chapstick and a bunch of other little items. Whew! So awesome!
I moved on and got directions to the flea market I had intentions to go to two hours before, but when I found it the morning crowd was already packed up and leaving and I think the afternoon vendors were going to fill in but I didn't want to wait for hours just to see if it would open again. I have time! I'll go back. Instead, I took the metro the Ile-de- la Cite where the Notre Dame is. On my way there I found a beautiful scarf that someone dropped. I held it in my hand so that if anyone saw it and claimed it as theirs I could give it back. Lucky for me, no one said anything. Yeah! I got a new and beautiful scarf. So I made it to the 5th Arrondisement and got lost again so I had to gain my bearings. OH! I forgot to mention as I was walking out of the metro, I found myself at the beginning of another street market. This time it was for birds and pets. Seriously, cages of chickens, roosters, canaries, what-have-you. I was going to walk down it, but it was kind of stinky so I passed. After standing next to a rack of postcards for 15 minutes, I gave up trying to find myself on my map and I just walked straight. Boy, was I bit by the lucky bug but I stumbled upon Place de St. Michel - so close to my school! I realized I was hungry so I walked down a little alley off the Place and found Boulangerie de Papa where there was a little crepe stand attached to it. And for less that 4 euro I was able to buy and enjoy a huge ham and cheese crepe. SO GOOD. I'll definitely be going back. I spent an hour in their patio/sitting area looking over my book and making notes about where the good bars were. Don't worry, I'm not looking for a night a insanity...just a little harmless mayhem. I kid, but not really.
Afterwards, I decided to walk and just see where I would end up. Luck again, I realized I was walking down rue de St. Gernain which connected me to rue St. Jacques. Why is this important? These streets are just minutes from the main office of my program/school. I decided to map out where I would be going tomorrow so I didn't get (inevitably) lost. After 45 minutes of getting on and off track, I found it! Wow, it was a tiny, tiny street just behind the Pantheon which has about a dozen tiny, tiny streets leading off of it. I recorded the directions in my Blackberry and I'll be set for tomorrow. I bought myself a celebratory McFlurry. They put caramel or fudge in theirs! It was amazing, but I think next time I'll get a different type of candy.
Finished my treat and headed to the Cathedral. It's always nice just retracing your steps. You always know you're going the right way. Once I realized I was an hour early for mass, I checked out the little souvenir shops (cough-tourist traps-cough) and admired the pashminas. I was about to get three for 12 euros, but I remembered there was a shop in Montparnasse that had the same if not better scarves in more colors and they were three for 10 euro. I showed them! I decided to sit in the courtyard-ish area in front of the Notre Dame and wait until 6 to get in so that I would have a seat. Of course, I panicked because the line was so long that I ended up getting inside at 6. When I made my way in I panicked because I heard singing and I thought I got the time wrong. After about 15 minutes or so I realized I was sitting in on Vespers and so I enjoyed it and waited for mass. Good choice. After the singing, I moved up a bit and got a better seat. It was a really nice mass that could have been a billion times better if they closed it off to tourists who wander around and take flash pictures and sit in the service and then move and make noise after 2 minutes. Gosh! But it was sweet because a cardinal presided over it. I should have written his name down, but I got a picture of him on my phone, which makes up for it, right? He gave a homily that I could really understand. It was good it was on a topic and gospel reading I had heard many times. I would go back, but I think my goal is to find a beautiful mass sans annoying tourist boogers. Maybe it'll die down when summer is really over.
Right after mass I took the metro back to my apartment...you know, I'll need to figure out the bus and light rail system, but the metro map is just so much easier to read right now. I skyped with Tomas and then Juan, got my backpack ready for school and tentatively chosemy outfit. I am so excited for my first day!!! I hope everyone is nice. My goal is to make one stable, adventurous, nice and good natured friend. My expectations don't seem too high, right?
Wish me luck! I'm off to bed. Bon nuit!
Monday, August 31, 2009
To be a part of something
My time in Lourdes was very spiritual, refreshing, and humbling. It opened my heart, mind, and soul to hope and inspiration. I have never seen so many sick and ailing people in one location all holding on to the belief that they may get well. Instead of looking at it negatively and with pity for these people, I now respect them and cherish them for their relentlessness and their calm. God is very much here in this little town of Lourdes. What a great way to start my adventure. I am cleansed of my burdens, worries, and sins. I feel ready to tackle this new adventure with bright eyes, an open heart and a focused mind.
What about our second day has me so calm, focused and at ease? Well, let me tell you all about it. We started with mass at nine...although we got lost because there are so many masses going on in so many different languages and in so many different chapels that we made it half way through, but enjoyed it all the same. It was only 40 minutes long! Talk about taking out all the pomp and circumstance. The readings and the responsorial were read within seconds after each other. And then after a brief alleluia, the gospel was read. The Eucharist, Our Father and all that were bam, bam, bam - consecutive. I liked it. I used to dread mass because of how long it took. I know most masses only take an hour. I guess it's not really the time but the ceremony of it all. I always imagined the re-enactment of the Last Supper would be among firends and family - comfortable, personal and easy going much like a normal meal. This mass wasn't like I had always imagined, but it was a great deal simpler than masses that I have attended prior. There were no painfully bad choirs singing and taking their precious time to belt out all six verses of the Eucharist song. We sang acapella and we did well. The priest offered his thoughts on the gospel and how it pertained to our normal lives. It wasn't too preachy. Maybe it was a little bit but the homily today (Monday) was quite simple and humble. There was no bell ringing, no kneeling/standing/sitting.kneeling, etc. People acted as they felt was proper and if you liked, you could sit the entire time. Although the mass was rigid in format - readings, gospel, homily, Eucharist - it wasn't a show. Do any of you know what I mean?
Then, after mass we had a nice breakfast at a cafe. Quick digression: We made friends with our waiter and when we went there for dinner we found out he has a US Quarter collection of all the fifty states. He said he was missing Hawaii and New Mexico. Such a sweetheart. At the end of dinner, we got the card of the cafe with the address and his name. Pierino. My mom plans on sending him a 2 dollar bill, dollar coins, and the missing state quarters.
Then we decided to walk around the town until the 5pm procession to the church of Pius X. It was nice, but very obvious that most of the locals profit from the 5,000,000 pilgrims that come every year. Still, we stumbled upon another church in the area and spent a few minutes there reflecting. My dad spent a good amount of time looking for the best deal on these bottles in the shap of Virgin Mary so that he could fill them with the water of the spring St. Bernadette dug herself and give them to his friends. I did the same, but I bought these adorable glass bottles. And yes, I spent a good amount of time looking for the best deal. Seriously, people can rip you off if you don't shop around first; especially if everyone is selling the same thing. You might see the rosary you bought at one shop for 5 euros cheaper than where you actually bought. That's always a bummer.
Next, we all split up in the early afternoon. I walked around, bought some ice cream and filled my bottles. It was really lovely to do so on my own. See, I tend to like doing things on my own. I don't really like to wear my heart on my sleeve. I filled the bottles, said my prayers, washed my face and neck and drank the delicious water from the tap. There is a long stretch of taps beside the great Church of the Immaculate Conception. The church is built upon the site where St. Bernadette saw Mary 18 times. I should probably tell you the story.
Bernadette Soubirous came from a very poor family. She was the eldest child of five, I believe. One day, she saw a vision of a small woman in a white robe wearing a blue girdle with yellow roses on her feet. The woman smiled at her and asked her to come to the grotto to see her for 15 days. She told her family and at first they thought she was mentally ill and refused to let her go. In the end, she convinces her parents and she vistied the grotto. Of course, everyone in the town caught wind of what she was doing and she was received with mixed responses. Some believed her and come with her to the grotto; some thought she was crazy and wanted her to be put away and some didn't know what to think. She was brought into question. People wanted proof. They wanted to know to whom she was speaking. I think it was by the 11th visit or so the woman finally told her she was of the Immaculate Conception. Who else could that be? During her visits to the grotto, Mary asked Bernadette to have chapel built in that place. She told Bernadette to drink and bathe in the spring and eat the herbs that grew there. Funny enough, there was no spring in the grotto. Bernadette began to dig and after a while fresh water began to flow forth. Amazing. Bernadette soon became tired of the attention the visions brought her so she joined a convent where she spent the rest of her short life. She died of tuberculosis at the age of 33.
Voila. So the taps. Why are there taps when in the story I wrote of a spring? I'm guessing to protect the purity of the water, the town of Lourdes created a system so that the water was both protected and easily accessible by many.
Alright, then by 4 in the afternoon my parents and I were back in the room. We rested a bit and made our way to the main square. It took a bit of a tussle. My dad has been quite stubborn during this trip, but we made our way to the starting point of the procession which was across the grotto on the other side of the river. The music started and we watched hundreds of people in wheelchairs pass by with their nurses or volunteers pushing or pulling. What a sight, what a moving, heart opening sight. My mom cried. I understood. I wanted to cry too, but again, I hate to wear my heart on my sleeve, but I will tell you this: I walked for every one of you. I walked for my friends, my family, the sick, the unhappy, the poor, the rich, the unaware. My heart reached out to every single person my life, my presence, my skin has touched. I walked for you that day. I asked that you may all find peace, may all let your hearts fill with love, strength, compassion and courage. I asked that you might all heal from whatever hurt you feel whether it be physical, emtional, relational, mental or anything else. I asked that you all feel loved.
Deep breath. We followed the procession to the Grand Mary statue and followed the long path down one way and up the other to the church of Pius X which is underground and can hold 25,000 people. From what I could tell, the church was nealry full. Wow, right? Wow! It was a great ceremony and I could feel the Spirit there. I could feel everyone's belief coming together and creating a huge collection of love, faith and peace. We were all connected that day. I felt very honored to be a part of that community of lovers, believers, human beings.
And today, we went to church again. We walked through the grotto and reflected. We enjoyed a lovely breakfast and lunch. We drank from the taps and washed ourselves on more time. And now, we'll be walking to the train station to head to Paris. I am ready to take this experience head on. I hope to be brave and kind and open. I hope to make friends. I hope to make smart choices. I hope to have the best time of my life. I hope to travel. I hope to be fluent in French. I hope that these three months help me to become the best human being I can be and prepare me for what's next.
Amen. :)
What about our second day has me so calm, focused and at ease? Well, let me tell you all about it. We started with mass at nine...although we got lost because there are so many masses going on in so many different languages and in so many different chapels that we made it half way through, but enjoyed it all the same. It was only 40 minutes long! Talk about taking out all the pomp and circumstance. The readings and the responsorial were read within seconds after each other. And then after a brief alleluia, the gospel was read. The Eucharist, Our Father and all that were bam, bam, bam - consecutive. I liked it. I used to dread mass because of how long it took. I know most masses only take an hour. I guess it's not really the time but the ceremony of it all. I always imagined the re-enactment of the Last Supper would be among firends and family - comfortable, personal and easy going much like a normal meal. This mass wasn't like I had always imagined, but it was a great deal simpler than masses that I have attended prior. There were no painfully bad choirs singing and taking their precious time to belt out all six verses of the Eucharist song. We sang acapella and we did well. The priest offered his thoughts on the gospel and how it pertained to our normal lives. It wasn't too preachy. Maybe it was a little bit but the homily today (Monday) was quite simple and humble. There was no bell ringing, no kneeling/standing/sitting.kneeling, etc. People acted as they felt was proper and if you liked, you could sit the entire time. Although the mass was rigid in format - readings, gospel, homily, Eucharist - it wasn't a show. Do any of you know what I mean?
Then, after mass we had a nice breakfast at a cafe. Quick digression: We made friends with our waiter and when we went there for dinner we found out he has a US Quarter collection of all the fifty states. He said he was missing Hawaii and New Mexico. Such a sweetheart. At the end of dinner, we got the card of the cafe with the address and his name. Pierino. My mom plans on sending him a 2 dollar bill, dollar coins, and the missing state quarters.
Then we decided to walk around the town until the 5pm procession to the church of Pius X. It was nice, but very obvious that most of the locals profit from the 5,000,000 pilgrims that come every year. Still, we stumbled upon another church in the area and spent a few minutes there reflecting. My dad spent a good amount of time looking for the best deal on these bottles in the shap of Virgin Mary so that he could fill them with the water of the spring St. Bernadette dug herself and give them to his friends. I did the same, but I bought these adorable glass bottles. And yes, I spent a good amount of time looking for the best deal. Seriously, people can rip you off if you don't shop around first; especially if everyone is selling the same thing. You might see the rosary you bought at one shop for 5 euros cheaper than where you actually bought. That's always a bummer.
Next, we all split up in the early afternoon. I walked around, bought some ice cream and filled my bottles. It was really lovely to do so on my own. See, I tend to like doing things on my own. I don't really like to wear my heart on my sleeve. I filled the bottles, said my prayers, washed my face and neck and drank the delicious water from the tap. There is a long stretch of taps beside the great Church of the Immaculate Conception. The church is built upon the site where St. Bernadette saw Mary 18 times. I should probably tell you the story.
Bernadette Soubirous came from a very poor family. She was the eldest child of five, I believe. One day, she saw a vision of a small woman in a white robe wearing a blue girdle with yellow roses on her feet. The woman smiled at her and asked her to come to the grotto to see her for 15 days. She told her family and at first they thought she was mentally ill and refused to let her go. In the end, she convinces her parents and she vistied the grotto. Of course, everyone in the town caught wind of what she was doing and she was received with mixed responses. Some believed her and come with her to the grotto; some thought she was crazy and wanted her to be put away and some didn't know what to think. She was brought into question. People wanted proof. They wanted to know to whom she was speaking. I think it was by the 11th visit or so the woman finally told her she was of the Immaculate Conception. Who else could that be? During her visits to the grotto, Mary asked Bernadette to have chapel built in that place. She told Bernadette to drink and bathe in the spring and eat the herbs that grew there. Funny enough, there was no spring in the grotto. Bernadette began to dig and after a while fresh water began to flow forth. Amazing. Bernadette soon became tired of the attention the visions brought her so she joined a convent where she spent the rest of her short life. She died of tuberculosis at the age of 33.
Voila. So the taps. Why are there taps when in the story I wrote of a spring? I'm guessing to protect the purity of the water, the town of Lourdes created a system so that the water was both protected and easily accessible by many.
Alright, then by 4 in the afternoon my parents and I were back in the room. We rested a bit and made our way to the main square. It took a bit of a tussle. My dad has been quite stubborn during this trip, but we made our way to the starting point of the procession which was across the grotto on the other side of the river. The music started and we watched hundreds of people in wheelchairs pass by with their nurses or volunteers pushing or pulling. What a sight, what a moving, heart opening sight. My mom cried. I understood. I wanted to cry too, but again, I hate to wear my heart on my sleeve, but I will tell you this: I walked for every one of you. I walked for my friends, my family, the sick, the unhappy, the poor, the rich, the unaware. My heart reached out to every single person my life, my presence, my skin has touched. I walked for you that day. I asked that you may all find peace, may all let your hearts fill with love, strength, compassion and courage. I asked that you might all heal from whatever hurt you feel whether it be physical, emtional, relational, mental or anything else. I asked that you all feel loved.
Deep breath. We followed the procession to the Grand Mary statue and followed the long path down one way and up the other to the church of Pius X which is underground and can hold 25,000 people. From what I could tell, the church was nealry full. Wow, right? Wow! It was a great ceremony and I could feel the Spirit there. I could feel everyone's belief coming together and creating a huge collection of love, faith and peace. We were all connected that day. I felt very honored to be a part of that community of lovers, believers, human beings.
And today, we went to church again. We walked through the grotto and reflected. We enjoyed a lovely breakfast and lunch. We drank from the taps and washed ourselves on more time. And now, we'll be walking to the train station to head to Paris. I am ready to take this experience head on. I hope to be brave and kind and open. I hope to make friends. I hope to make smart choices. I hope to have the best time of my life. I hope to travel. I hope to be fluent in French. I hope that these three months help me to become the best human being I can be and prepare me for what's next.
Amen. :)
Saturday, August 29, 2009
Lourdes
Hi everyone,
I know I just posted an update, but I had to get you all caught up on the haps in Lourdes. It's a windy, twisty little town that houses a beautiful cathedral dedicated to the Virgin Mary. The story goes that St. Bernadette had a vision of Mary and was told that the people of the town must turn to her son and they must build a church where Bernadette saw her. That's all I got, but by tomorrow I should have the full scoop.
We participated in a beautiful procession with hundreds if not thousands of other pilgrims. I believe they were mostly Italian since the first language spoken during the ceremony was indeed Italian. In fact, there were seven languages (at least) spoken during the ceremony - along with Italian there was French, Spanish, German, English, Portugese (from what I could tell) and Tagalog. What a treasure it was to stand among a community supporting and believing in the same idea. At the end of the ceremony, we were all asked to spread a wish of peace and goodnight to our neighbors. That was awesome! It was wonderful to hear peace in so many different languages. What a gift, indeed. Pictures will be coming soon. I know I keep saying that but seriously! Tomorrow you shall find the delightful treasure of pictures.
I prayed for you all...well, I asked that Mary listen to the prayers, thoughts and needs in my heart. I asked her to send her grace, strength and bravery upon you all. I hope you felt it reach you. I love you all.
I know I just posted an update, but I had to get you all caught up on the haps in Lourdes. It's a windy, twisty little town that houses a beautiful cathedral dedicated to the Virgin Mary. The story goes that St. Bernadette had a vision of Mary and was told that the people of the town must turn to her son and they must build a church where Bernadette saw her. That's all I got, but by tomorrow I should have the full scoop.
We participated in a beautiful procession with hundreds if not thousands of other pilgrims. I believe they were mostly Italian since the first language spoken during the ceremony was indeed Italian. In fact, there were seven languages (at least) spoken during the ceremony - along with Italian there was French, Spanish, German, English, Portugese (from what I could tell) and Tagalog. What a treasure it was to stand among a community supporting and believing in the same idea. At the end of the ceremony, we were all asked to spread a wish of peace and goodnight to our neighbors. That was awesome! It was wonderful to hear peace in so many different languages. What a gift, indeed. Pictures will be coming soon. I know I keep saying that but seriously! Tomorrow you shall find the delightful treasure of pictures.
I prayed for you all...well, I asked that Mary listen to the prayers, thoughts and needs in my heart. I asked her to send her grace, strength and bravery upon you all. I hope you felt it reach you. I love you all.
Notes from the train (written this afternoon)
You have probably noticed that I have yet to wear my little black dress. Ironic, I know, but it’s too dang hot right now to wear such a lovely thing. Honestly, I would sweat in it and not look classy, timeless or chic nor would I recall Audrey Hepburn in your mind at all because if I wear it in the dead of this heat that is sweeping through Europe, my blunt cut bangs would be all matted and damp. My over-sized sunglasses would be slipping down my already nose. If I were to wear the black pumps I bought for my little black dress, I would have cramped, overheated feet. And we all know how uncomfortable it is when your feet are too hot. Right? We’ve all been there…right?
Anyway, I just thought I’d clear the air because we all know it was on your minds. Second thing I must do is apologize for only thanking Kim for being a follower. I didn’t realize that you had to be a gmail address holder in order to be my follower (sounds weird.) so I wish to thank everyone who reads my blog – these plainly decorated entries and longwinded updates. Until I figure out how to let anyone make a comment or something to that effect, I recognize your silence as love. And I hope you recognize my verbosity as love too. I wouldn’t do this if it weren’t for you. So thank you for your support, readership and patience. I hope you’re enjoying it so far. If anyone knows how to make a blog more interesting looking, can help me hook up my Flickr on to my blog and/or knows how to allow anyone and everyone to make a comment, I would love to hear from you via facebook or email. You can reach me at veronica.asence@gmail.com. As you know I have a blackberry, which is great but it is quite limiting when it comes to updating my blog (as in it doesn’t let me do anything but look at it) and internet here in Europe is pretty sparse. Advice about internet cafes would be immensely appreciated as well! I know some great world travelers are taking a peek at this humble little journal too.
On to my second day in Barcelona! I write this after the fact, but the city is still fresh in my mind. Our hotel was situated in the center of La Rambla, one of the liveliest and eclectic places I have ever been. There were vendors on the streets selling birds of all kinds from canaries to roosters. They had turtles and rabbits too! Quite fitting to call it a zoo, my friends. It’s a great place to walk and people watch, shop and eat. It’s good if you need a fresh slice of life. It’s just good for the soul, I tell you. We enjoyed our second day aboard the Bus Turistica and my parents indulged me by stopping at La Sagrada Familia – Antoni Gaudi’s unfinished cathedral. Construction has been going on since 1884, if I recall correctly. 1884! That’s over a hundred years and it has yet to be completed. See, the only way work gets done is through anonymous donations and by the fare it costs to step inside and look around. It was breathtaking. If you have never seen anything created by Gaudi, you’re missing out. Apparently, as a child he suffered from rheumatic fevers frequently and was left in solitude to recover. It allowed him to enjoy and to connect with nature, thus inspiring his entire style and career. His work is very organic with tiles on the roof of a house recalling the scales of a dragon or in the cathedral’s case, the columns that helped hold it up reminded one of trees. You have to look him up. Then, my parents indulged me further by stopping at the Park Guell next. GORGEOUS! It’s a great place to stroll and enjoy Gaudi’s work in nature (the way it should be) or to sit and find local treasures of your own. For example, I stumbled upon a mini theatre or sorts with a man playing the most beautiful Spanish guitar. I could have sat there for hours to listen to him. And at the top of the park entrance, there are steps that lead up to this area of columns where again people play music or sell hand crafted goods. I’ll get the pictures up on Flickr. And I’ll get the address of my Flickr on here. Promise.
Then, we ate lunch near the Port Olimpìc. I had some really fresh and nicely batter calamari for my starter. My mom had Iberic ham (reminiscent of proscuitto or parma) with little potato croquettes and my dad had a seafood feast. Can I tell you, I was absolutely disgusted with my dad’s manners and eating habits that day. DISGUSTED. He ate in the way a starved lion would attack a gazelle. It made me sick to my stomach and quite embarrassed. I believe he liked inducing such reactions out of me and was quite sadistic about it. I don’t really want to go into too much detail. It makes me a little queasy just trying to describe it. And I know I must sound unkind, but honestly, I have never seen anything like that before and never do I ever want to see anything like it again. On to happier things, my parents both had paella yet again and I had leg of duck in a sweet and sour wine sauce with prunes. Delicious! I ate it all. We suspect our waiter didn’t charge us for all that we ordered, but he ignored us anyway and only came to our table to give us our food and the check. It was his fault, really. We were delightfully full so we walked down the pier for a bit and took a stroll to gander the beach, but since my parents are wimps, we only saw everything from afar. Bummer, but guess what we did all up close and personal? We went to the casino… Of course. I’m not a fan. You come out with less money than you had before and you smell like smoke. My mom cheated a bit and put in a 100 euro bill into the penny machines so it looked like we were winning. And I did win! I won us 20 more euros that were played away twenty minutes later. We left the casino 40 cents ahead. Great time at the casino, huh? I know I sound like I’m complaining, but there are casinos all over the States and hello, we have Las Vegas for goodness sake! I will say I wish we could have done something else with our time. I do plan on going back once school has started. I loved it there.
This morning, we took off for Lourdes. We are on our second train transfer and we’ll need to catch a third. My motto for travel shall now and ever be: travel light but travel chic. What does that mean, you wonder? I’ll have backpack or a mini-rollie with my little black dress, boyfriend jeans, three blouses, a scarf and a light jacket thrown in. Perfecto! Of course, I’ll have toiletries, underwear and a couple pairs of shoes, but for a (girly) girl, that’s pretty light. Add a good purse with my phone, iPod, camera, journal and a couple snacks inside…I’m set. And if I’m feeling particularly easy-going, I’ll fit the bare minimum in my beautiful Northface backpack that Juan gave me for my birthday. It’s going to be great.
I miss you all.
Anyway, I just thought I’d clear the air because we all know it was on your minds. Second thing I must do is apologize for only thanking Kim for being a follower. I didn’t realize that you had to be a gmail address holder in order to be my follower (sounds weird.) so I wish to thank everyone who reads my blog – these plainly decorated entries and longwinded updates. Until I figure out how to let anyone make a comment or something to that effect, I recognize your silence as love. And I hope you recognize my verbosity as love too. I wouldn’t do this if it weren’t for you. So thank you for your support, readership and patience. I hope you’re enjoying it so far. If anyone knows how to make a blog more interesting looking, can help me hook up my Flickr on to my blog and/or knows how to allow anyone and everyone to make a comment, I would love to hear from you via facebook or email. You can reach me at veronica.asence@gmail.com. As you know I have a blackberry, which is great but it is quite limiting when it comes to updating my blog (as in it doesn’t let me do anything but look at it) and internet here in Europe is pretty sparse. Advice about internet cafes would be immensely appreciated as well! I know some great world travelers are taking a peek at this humble little journal too.
On to my second day in Barcelona! I write this after the fact, but the city is still fresh in my mind. Our hotel was situated in the center of La Rambla, one of the liveliest and eclectic places I have ever been. There were vendors on the streets selling birds of all kinds from canaries to roosters. They had turtles and rabbits too! Quite fitting to call it a zoo, my friends. It’s a great place to walk and people watch, shop and eat. It’s good if you need a fresh slice of life. It’s just good for the soul, I tell you. We enjoyed our second day aboard the Bus Turistica and my parents indulged me by stopping at La Sagrada Familia – Antoni Gaudi’s unfinished cathedral. Construction has been going on since 1884, if I recall correctly. 1884! That’s over a hundred years and it has yet to be completed. See, the only way work gets done is through anonymous donations and by the fare it costs to step inside and look around. It was breathtaking. If you have never seen anything created by Gaudi, you’re missing out. Apparently, as a child he suffered from rheumatic fevers frequently and was left in solitude to recover. It allowed him to enjoy and to connect with nature, thus inspiring his entire style and career. His work is very organic with tiles on the roof of a house recalling the scales of a dragon or in the cathedral’s case, the columns that helped hold it up reminded one of trees. You have to look him up. Then, my parents indulged me further by stopping at the Park Guell next. GORGEOUS! It’s a great place to stroll and enjoy Gaudi’s work in nature (the way it should be) or to sit and find local treasures of your own. For example, I stumbled upon a mini theatre or sorts with a man playing the most beautiful Spanish guitar. I could have sat there for hours to listen to him. And at the top of the park entrance, there are steps that lead up to this area of columns where again people play music or sell hand crafted goods. I’ll get the pictures up on Flickr. And I’ll get the address of my Flickr on here. Promise.
Then, we ate lunch near the Port Olimpìc. I had some really fresh and nicely batter calamari for my starter. My mom had Iberic ham (reminiscent of proscuitto or parma) with little potato croquettes and my dad had a seafood feast. Can I tell you, I was absolutely disgusted with my dad’s manners and eating habits that day. DISGUSTED. He ate in the way a starved lion would attack a gazelle. It made me sick to my stomach and quite embarrassed. I believe he liked inducing such reactions out of me and was quite sadistic about it. I don’t really want to go into too much detail. It makes me a little queasy just trying to describe it. And I know I must sound unkind, but honestly, I have never seen anything like that before and never do I ever want to see anything like it again. On to happier things, my parents both had paella yet again and I had leg of duck in a sweet and sour wine sauce with prunes. Delicious! I ate it all. We suspect our waiter didn’t charge us for all that we ordered, but he ignored us anyway and only came to our table to give us our food and the check. It was his fault, really. We were delightfully full so we walked down the pier for a bit and took a stroll to gander the beach, but since my parents are wimps, we only saw everything from afar. Bummer, but guess what we did all up close and personal? We went to the casino… Of course. I’m not a fan. You come out with less money than you had before and you smell like smoke. My mom cheated a bit and put in a 100 euro bill into the penny machines so it looked like we were winning. And I did win! I won us 20 more euros that were played away twenty minutes later. We left the casino 40 cents ahead. Great time at the casino, huh? I know I sound like I’m complaining, but there are casinos all over the States and hello, we have Las Vegas for goodness sake! I will say I wish we could have done something else with our time. I do plan on going back once school has started. I loved it there.
This morning, we took off for Lourdes. We are on our second train transfer and we’ll need to catch a third. My motto for travel shall now and ever be: travel light but travel chic. What does that mean, you wonder? I’ll have backpack or a mini-rollie with my little black dress, boyfriend jeans, three blouses, a scarf and a light jacket thrown in. Perfecto! Of course, I’ll have toiletries, underwear and a couple pairs of shoes, but for a (girly) girl, that’s pretty light. Add a good purse with my phone, iPod, camera, journal and a couple snacks inside…I’m set. And if I’m feeling particularly easy-going, I’ll fit the bare minimum in my beautiful Northface backpack that Juan gave me for my birthday. It’s going to be great.
I miss you all.
Thursday, August 27, 2009
Embarrassing story! You know you want to laugh at my humiliation! :-P
Okay, so we were at Gare d'Austerlitz waiting for our train to Barcelona and I had to use the bathroom pretty badly. I asked probably 5 people where the restrooms are in the train station. I still couldn't find it until a security guard stopped me and said he was watching me go round and round the station and that I should have asked for help. He basically walked me to the bathroom. I forgot you have to pay a bit to use public bathrooms so I walked back to my parents in shame. I ended up waiting until we boarded and used the restrooms there for free.
Hola Barcelona!
We took an overnight train to Barcelona last night. First, we went from Stuttgart, Germany to Paris; had a four hour layover, and then, we took a "hotel-train" to Spain. My mom made it out to be something luxurious and first class, etc. but if you have ever seen the Darjeeling Unlimited, you'd know what our "room" looked like. In fact, it wasn't as nearly as large as it was in that film. We did have a shower in our bathroom, but I was too creeped out by the floor-cum-drain. Seriously, almost the entire bathroom floor was a drain. As someone who is oddly afraid of drains (what if somethings crawls up while my hand or foot is near?!), I avoided it as much as possible. I went in there with shoes, I tell you. And man, it was a bumpy ride! Can you tell I'm complaining a little bit? I really shouldn't be. I should be proclaiming it as an experience of a lifetime! And truly, it was. We enjoyed a very nice albeit shaky dinner. I had salmon and goat cheese for my starter, porkchops in apple puree with a side of vegetables confit for my main dish and fresh fruit for dessert. We had a very nice waiter who put up with my dad's antics. My mom calls him "rough around the edges". He very much is. He pointed to what he wanted on the menu without uttering a word, didn't say please or thank you and he sort of just does whatever he wants. In retrospect, he is always endearing, but sometimes it's a little hard to watch.
After our dinner, we headed back to our cabin. Despite being able to drink, it wasn't me who was a little tipsy on the way back to bed. My mom has a sensitive case of Asian Glow and my dad just gets silly. "You're not allowed in my room. Honey, make sure your mom doesn't come to my room!" He kept saying that through half of dinner. Ah, young love. Oh, I forgot to mention that my dad had his own cabin because our room was honestly five weet wide and maybe ten feet long. No joke. Once our beds were set up, we had about a foot and half between our beds and the wall. He definitely wouldn't be able to fit comfortably on the bottom bunk with my mom. Plus, he snores like no other! I could hear him through my wall on the top bunk with his bathroom between us. It's bad, I tell you! But the rocking of the train lulled me to sleep and it was just peachy. My mom woke me up at 6am thinking we would be arriving in Spain at 7:30. Groggily, I threw on some clothes and stumbled to the dinner (now breakfast) cart. We weren't the only ones there, thank goodness. There was a sweet Spanish gay couple a few tables away...and us. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, we were al little early. Try two and a half hours early. Our train wasn't supposed to arrive in Barcelona until 8:30. I could have slept in an extra hour. Bummerrrr...especially since Spaniards don't even take their dinners until 10:30 at night. It's been a long day already. But my mom was so cute! For a whole hour and a half beforehand she kept saying we had arrived already by pointing out people jogging in some random park or by seeing some buildings she assumed were the downtown of Barcelona. Cute, man. She was just so excited! That made one of us. My dad and I just let her go on and be excited. Why not?
So then, we made it to our hotel via taxi, dropped off our bags and headed to one of those hop-on/hop-off tours. We rode the blue and green lines and tomorrow we'll be taking the red line. I used to dread them, but I realize now city tours can help orient you in a brand new city...if you pay attention. Don't worry, I was paying meticulous attention in fact. I hope to stop by the Mediterranean at Port Olympic and dip my toes in the sea. I hope to get to Park Guell to check out Gaudi's works among others. It's going to be great. We did have a little boo boo while riding the buses and my dad and I got separated from my mom but thank goodness for Blackberries and buses that go predictable routes. We met at a transfer stop and took the blue line back to Catalunya Square. Then, we took off to lunch. I "indulged" in one of those prix fixe meals while my parents had paella. It was a satisfactory first lunch in Barcelona, but if anyone has any reccomendations for good eateries or cuisines to try while in Spain, I'm all ears! Dinner will be in about six and a half hours.
I'm now carrying a journal with me to make notes for good entries, but it's ironic of course. Now that I have something to write with at all times, I have nothing to make note of. I'm sure it'll come after a few days. I'm not worried. Also, I'm making a list of places to see and visit when I'm on my own and again, I'd love to hear your feedback.
Thank you, Kim, for following my blog. You are now the person encouraging me and reminding me to update my blog and make note of my adventures no matter how mundane, frustrating, guilty, exhilarating or happy.
Monday, August 24, 2009
IOU (a VERY HUGE...)
Update. Let’s start from the beginning as in August 23rd around noon. We picked up my brother from his condo so he could see us off and take the car while my parents were gone. We said our goodbyes, shared hugs and my mom gave my brother ten dollars with explicit instructions to buy the winning Mega Million Lotto ticket. Wish us luck. Then, we were off to venture into an unusually crowded Sea-Tac airport. I was taking two big suitcases and two little ones. Sounds like a bit much, right? I know, I know. But I had to be prepared (read: I still forgot some things, which I would love to share with you and embarrass myself.) and well-equipped to face the most chic city in the world. My parents had three suitcases between them so you can imagine the mass we had to wrangle in to the weigh station and such. Luckily, we were flying business class and we each got three free check-in bags and a special line to use in security. Ahh, being the daughter of a business savvy, high credit scoring, gold member of every travel service known to man, no holds barred woman. What a mouthful.
Business class was amazing! You could fit a whole economy class chair in between me and the chair in front of me. Lumbar massages, full recline, personal TVs, multiple course meals. It’s disgusting, isn’t it? Why can’t they make the whole plane like that? Money talks, I guess. And being wealthy will always have benefits. Only this time, we’re not wealthy elites trotting the globe. We (read: my mom and dad) are hard-working, pull you up by your boot straps, tough love kind of people who deserve every bit of luxury they earn. Okay, so my mom and dad are those people. I’m just lucky to be their offspring. Cha-ching! I kid.
So I watched three and a half movies (Sunshine Cleaning, 17 Again… I can’t remember the third full one, and a part of The Reader) and an episode of Bones before we made it to Amsterdam. I think I slept for about 45 minutes when we took off minus the magical reclining power of my seat. Still absurdly comfortable though. Can you tell I can’t get over flying like that? It was just…wow. I wish it upon every person I know and love. We land in Amsterdam. The airport is clean, spacious and chock full of duty free stores. Seriously, separate stores dedicated to whiskey and cigars, chocolate, wine…you name it. Wow. We walked around for a while searching for our designated lounge. And after a couple blisters on my slightly swollen feet in brand new shoes, we make it. I fell asleep intermittently in a comfy albeit tight chair in front of an Italian business man. Not so flattering, but I couldn’t help it. I hope he didn’t judge me too much.
After a couple hours, we bustled over to our gate and boarded. It was a short flight but we still got a snack-y sort of meal. I’m not quite sure what it was, but there was chocolate in the dessert. No questions when there’s chocolate, my friend. We decided to take a 17 euro bus instead of a 70 euro taxi ride. Totally worth it. I got a nap in. But when we got to our hotel room…wait, let me digress. Hotel rooms in Europe are slightly ridiculous. You either get a king sized bed or two twin beds. Not so great when you have three people. We worked the twins though, no problem. It’s just that they’re so small! I think it’s a reflection of the way Europeans live their life. The bedroom is just for that: the bed = sleeping. In the States, wow, you could fit half of your house in a deluxe hotel room. We like our space, Americans. We like to lounge about and walk around in our rooms. We equate luxury with vastness and greatness of size. So it seems. Europeans are usually smaller in frame anyway, but they seem to be less demanding when it comes to a hotel room. I’m basing this on a small frame of experience, but I’ve come to agree with the European way of seeing it. All I need is a clean and soft bed with an equally clean and accommodating bathroom. Not so much to ask. I don’t need a view, but I do need…I don’t know, toilet paper.
Enough of my digression, on to the details of my first day! We slept from three in the afternoon to eight in the evening. We were tired and jetlagged. We strolled the streets of the area called Montparnasse. It’s pretty urban and lacks the same aesthetic beauty of the other areas in Paris. Anyway, we walked around for an hour or so and ended up eating at a place that served burgers. Sigh. I voted for crepes but my dad wanted something more substantial. To tell you the truth, I don’t think my parents like Paris much. It makes them uncomfortable. Parisians are quite exclusive. They judge you on the way you look and have engrained in their minds poor impressions of Americans. They don’t all speak English and they enjoy a very different way of life. Their coffee is strong, their lunches are huge, gallant affairs, their dinners are small and they’re stuck in their ways. People who are stuck in their ways don’t really like others who are stuck in ways different from theirs. (Did that make sense?) I’m thinking that’s why Americans and the French don’t like each other much. I could get on my soapbox and be all preachy but I’m letting it be for now.
That was Paris, really. Oh, but I should talk about the meal. It took two and a half hours to get a salad, burgers and a dessert. No joke. They waited twenty minutes to take our order. They waited twently minutes before serving each course; drinks included. And they forgot my dessert and got all snotty about it. See, if it was their mistake, there was no need to be rude to us. Bother. Anyway, after that, I don’t think my parents like the French much. Let’s keep our fingers crossed that their three days in Paris while I am taking placement exams and moving in with my host family goes well for them.
Quick funny story from dinner, we were eating at a place called Hippopotamus restaurant and we all ordered Hippo burgers, My dad thought they were serving us actual hippo meat. I have such a cute and funny daddy. It took about ten minutes to convince him otherwise. A part of me still thinks that he thinks we ate hippo meat. See, sometimes he just gives up and doesn’t argue. With two women in the family, he’s outnumbered without my brother. And I do feel bad. Man, do they get into fights like cats. It’s something about traveling and holidays. The biggest fights always happen during those times. I’ve now learned to be a bystander not a referee. Talk about giving myself way too much psychological scarring. They’re both Scorpios so it’s a little difficult. Actually, (almost) everyone in my family is a Scorpio – my mom, my dad, my brother, my grandma, my grandpa, my great-aunt, my dog…I’m the only Gemini.
So Stuttgart, we woke up at five in the morning to get ready and left at six to catch a 7:30 train. We really should have left at 6:30 but my mom always thinks she knows what she’s doing. About 95% of the time, she has great intuition, but let’s just say this was a part of the 5% she doesn’t always get right. It could have saved us a fight between my parents, a grumpy dad and sitting for an hour staring at each other…if she had listened to me and the Concierge. Eh, we made it to Germany all whole and relatively happy human beings. The train ride was very nice. And I was able to finish the Grapes of Wrath. LOVED IT. I’m on to East of Eden, but I should really get on to French books and newspapers. It’s Steinbeck, really. He’s irresistible.
I don’t speak German. I speak and understand French, mostly understand Tagalog, some Spanish, a very teeny tiny bit of Italian, and an even smaller amount of Arabic, but German – no. We were a little disoriented in our quest for the hotel. My mom and I decided we’d make an adventure out of it and walk through the park to the hotel. It was only 10-15 minutes and very lovely, but my dad was a Debbie Downer and complained that normal people don’t drag luggage around in a park. Well, he should be proud we’re pioneering the movement. Luckily, we had a map and there were pictures and some recognizable words that got us through. But my dad got in trouble. He seriously dragged his suitcase and caused a good-sized hole in the back. My mom was not happy.
We took a city tour which was nice, but we fell asleep because we were full of traditional German food by the time the tour started. Let me just say, bratwurst with warm sauerkraut is AMAZING! Then, we went back to our hotel and slept some more. We like our sleep, okay? Still jetlagged. This is our second day! Sorry, I got a little worked up. We woke up around 8:45 and walked around. The Germans do not take their dinner as late as the French, but we figured something out and I had a crepe while my parents had some pizza. The girl who helped us was really nice and gave us a great deal.
We got back to the hotel room and that’s that. My parents are asleep but here I am typing away. I shouldn’t take such long naps anymore, but on the bright side, I can update you all with a ridiculously long entry.
My next plan of action is to create a Flickr account and get the link here so you can read and see my adventures. Cheers!
**I feel like I’m leaving stuff out, but I’ll try to write more updates more often. I hope that when I’m done traveling with my parents my blog can take a different turn. I feel like I’m writing in a journal. I’ll work on it.
Business class was amazing! You could fit a whole economy class chair in between me and the chair in front of me. Lumbar massages, full recline, personal TVs, multiple course meals. It’s disgusting, isn’t it? Why can’t they make the whole plane like that? Money talks, I guess. And being wealthy will always have benefits. Only this time, we’re not wealthy elites trotting the globe. We (read: my mom and dad) are hard-working, pull you up by your boot straps, tough love kind of people who deserve every bit of luxury they earn. Okay, so my mom and dad are those people. I’m just lucky to be their offspring. Cha-ching! I kid.
So I watched three and a half movies (Sunshine Cleaning, 17 Again… I can’t remember the third full one, and a part of The Reader) and an episode of Bones before we made it to Amsterdam. I think I slept for about 45 minutes when we took off minus the magical reclining power of my seat. Still absurdly comfortable though. Can you tell I can’t get over flying like that? It was just…wow. I wish it upon every person I know and love. We land in Amsterdam. The airport is clean, spacious and chock full of duty free stores. Seriously, separate stores dedicated to whiskey and cigars, chocolate, wine…you name it. Wow. We walked around for a while searching for our designated lounge. And after a couple blisters on my slightly swollen feet in brand new shoes, we make it. I fell asleep intermittently in a comfy albeit tight chair in front of an Italian business man. Not so flattering, but I couldn’t help it. I hope he didn’t judge me too much.
After a couple hours, we bustled over to our gate and boarded. It was a short flight but we still got a snack-y sort of meal. I’m not quite sure what it was, but there was chocolate in the dessert. No questions when there’s chocolate, my friend. We decided to take a 17 euro bus instead of a 70 euro taxi ride. Totally worth it. I got a nap in. But when we got to our hotel room…wait, let me digress. Hotel rooms in Europe are slightly ridiculous. You either get a king sized bed or two twin beds. Not so great when you have three people. We worked the twins though, no problem. It’s just that they’re so small! I think it’s a reflection of the way Europeans live their life. The bedroom is just for that: the bed = sleeping. In the States, wow, you could fit half of your house in a deluxe hotel room. We like our space, Americans. We like to lounge about and walk around in our rooms. We equate luxury with vastness and greatness of size. So it seems. Europeans are usually smaller in frame anyway, but they seem to be less demanding when it comes to a hotel room. I’m basing this on a small frame of experience, but I’ve come to agree with the European way of seeing it. All I need is a clean and soft bed with an equally clean and accommodating bathroom. Not so much to ask. I don’t need a view, but I do need…I don’t know, toilet paper.
Enough of my digression, on to the details of my first day! We slept from three in the afternoon to eight in the evening. We were tired and jetlagged. We strolled the streets of the area called Montparnasse. It’s pretty urban and lacks the same aesthetic beauty of the other areas in Paris. Anyway, we walked around for an hour or so and ended up eating at a place that served burgers. Sigh. I voted for crepes but my dad wanted something more substantial. To tell you the truth, I don’t think my parents like Paris much. It makes them uncomfortable. Parisians are quite exclusive. They judge you on the way you look and have engrained in their minds poor impressions of Americans. They don’t all speak English and they enjoy a very different way of life. Their coffee is strong, their lunches are huge, gallant affairs, their dinners are small and they’re stuck in their ways. People who are stuck in their ways don’t really like others who are stuck in ways different from theirs. (Did that make sense?) I’m thinking that’s why Americans and the French don’t like each other much. I could get on my soapbox and be all preachy but I’m letting it be for now.
That was Paris, really. Oh, but I should talk about the meal. It took two and a half hours to get a salad, burgers and a dessert. No joke. They waited twenty minutes to take our order. They waited twently minutes before serving each course; drinks included. And they forgot my dessert and got all snotty about it. See, if it was their mistake, there was no need to be rude to us. Bother. Anyway, after that, I don’t think my parents like the French much. Let’s keep our fingers crossed that their three days in Paris while I am taking placement exams and moving in with my host family goes well for them.
Quick funny story from dinner, we were eating at a place called Hippopotamus restaurant and we all ordered Hippo burgers, My dad thought they were serving us actual hippo meat. I have such a cute and funny daddy. It took about ten minutes to convince him otherwise. A part of me still thinks that he thinks we ate hippo meat. See, sometimes he just gives up and doesn’t argue. With two women in the family, he’s outnumbered without my brother. And I do feel bad. Man, do they get into fights like cats. It’s something about traveling and holidays. The biggest fights always happen during those times. I’ve now learned to be a bystander not a referee. Talk about giving myself way too much psychological scarring. They’re both Scorpios so it’s a little difficult. Actually, (almost) everyone in my family is a Scorpio – my mom, my dad, my brother, my grandma, my grandpa, my great-aunt, my dog…I’m the only Gemini.
So Stuttgart, we woke up at five in the morning to get ready and left at six to catch a 7:30 train. We really should have left at 6:30 but my mom always thinks she knows what she’s doing. About 95% of the time, she has great intuition, but let’s just say this was a part of the 5% she doesn’t always get right. It could have saved us a fight between my parents, a grumpy dad and sitting for an hour staring at each other…if she had listened to me and the Concierge. Eh, we made it to Germany all whole and relatively happy human beings. The train ride was very nice. And I was able to finish the Grapes of Wrath. LOVED IT. I’m on to East of Eden, but I should really get on to French books and newspapers. It’s Steinbeck, really. He’s irresistible.
I don’t speak German. I speak and understand French, mostly understand Tagalog, some Spanish, a very teeny tiny bit of Italian, and an even smaller amount of Arabic, but German – no. We were a little disoriented in our quest for the hotel. My mom and I decided we’d make an adventure out of it and walk through the park to the hotel. It was only 10-15 minutes and very lovely, but my dad was a Debbie Downer and complained that normal people don’t drag luggage around in a park. Well, he should be proud we’re pioneering the movement. Luckily, we had a map and there were pictures and some recognizable words that got us through. But my dad got in trouble. He seriously dragged his suitcase and caused a good-sized hole in the back. My mom was not happy.
We took a city tour which was nice, but we fell asleep because we were full of traditional German food by the time the tour started. Let me just say, bratwurst with warm sauerkraut is AMAZING! Then, we went back to our hotel and slept some more. We like our sleep, okay? Still jetlagged. This is our second day! Sorry, I got a little worked up. We woke up around 8:45 and walked around. The Germans do not take their dinner as late as the French, but we figured something out and I had a crepe while my parents had some pizza. The girl who helped us was really nice and gave us a great deal.
We got back to the hotel room and that’s that. My parents are asleep but here I am typing away. I shouldn’t take such long naps anymore, but on the bright side, I can update you all with a ridiculously long entry.
My next plan of action is to create a Flickr account and get the link here so you can read and see my adventures. Cheers!
**I feel like I’m leaving stuff out, but I’ll try to write more updates more often. I hope that when I’m done traveling with my parents my blog can take a different turn. I feel like I’m writing in a journal. I’ll work on it.
Wednesday, August 19, 2009
Can't think straight
1 little black dress
1 black pencil skirt
1 white pencil skirt
1 black blazer
2 pairs of boyfriend jeans (amazing!)
2 pairs of skinny jeans
1 pair of straight legged jeans
1 black pencil skirt
1 white pencil skirt
1 black blazer
2 pairs of boyfriend jeans (amazing!)
2 pairs of skinny jeans
1 pair of straight legged jeans
3 dolman shirts
...Okay, this is getting ridiculous. I doubt many people know what a Dolman is anyway. Basically, I threw half of my closet into two big suitcases with high hopes that they are acceptable attire in the most fashionable, most chic city in the entire world. I'm not worried at all. Deadpan sarcasm doesn't work so well on blogs...at least I can be assured by my little black dress. Throw on a pair of black flats, a scarf wrapped casually (read: painstakingly placed to look breezy and effortless. Ha!) around my neck and a big slouchy hobo bag filled with all sorts of cosmopolitan things. Voila! I'm ready to take on the city of Love and the rest of the world.
I should make a different list. A list of hopes, dreams and goals for my upcoming adventure...which I shall make after I sort out all of these tangled thoughts and feelings swarming around in my overstretched yet somehow underworked brain. Goodness, on my walk to work today I had so many things to share with you, but as I sit in front of my oddly wide screened computer, all of it just slips from the grasp of my mind. Boo. Perhaps another lucid and mindful moment will come at a time of inconvenience as it usually does, but hey! I have a new toy to help me with this chronic and pedestrian problem. I have a BlackBerry or as Juan and Kelly call it, a CrackBerry. It has my email, instant messenging, internet, and get this: "Word to Go"!
You mean, I can just hurry my little clicker thing to my Apps and find this Word doc thing and write all my heart's desire? Yes, ineed. Some of you might look at me disdainfully, call me a sad product of my generation and offer me a spiral bound notebook and a ballpoint pen. I hear you and and I feel your dagger-stares. But when trains, subways, and my own hurrying footsteps are jostling me about I cannot hold a pen to paper steadily and call my handwriting what you call legible. No sir (or ma'am.) So celebrate with me the sometimes greatness of technology! Hurray!
Okay, I have to add a postcript. Tomas gave me a beautiful journal and I plan on writing in there. Thoughts at the cafe, quotations from people I hear on the streets or read on famous tombstones. Don't you worry, technology has not taken me over completely. Cheers!
Tuesday, August 18, 2009
To My Darling Readers (haha)
I laugh because I don't have any darling readers...at least, I don't now, but I hope they come in the near future. Welcome to my blog. :) I figured this would be a cooler way to keep people updated on my adventures during my stay in Paris. And the name of my blog...well, I didn't want to be too cliche with some witty globetrottin' line. I know the little black dress is cliche in itself, but it's classic too and I like that. But I think I might keep this humble online journal (if you will) for longer than my time in Paris and all of Europe can accomodate. I hope you all enjoy what I have to give you - pictures, words, maybe some videos, and a lot of love.
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