Here I am, sitting at my desk, checking the dates for my final exams and securing housing for second semester back in Minneapolis. Everything around me is screaming "You're almost done!" I don't like it at all.
Even life at my homestay is joining the chant. Now, don't get me wrong. Everything is going really well. I'm very lucky to have been placed with my host family.
But, the other day, I feel like my host mother, Valerie, and I encountered the first sign that we are truly comfortable with each other: we disagreed.
My host mom is pretty religious. She prays, loves worship music, attends service, and is very involved in her church. None of that bothers me at all...okay, so maybe sometimes the evangelical worship music grates on my ears. But the other day on the news, they were doing some story on christianity in the states, and showed clips of big amphitheater worship services. I'm sorry if this offends anyone, but Evangelical Christianity in the U.s. scares me. I don't like. Well, of course, I tried to explain my view, and was stopped short by my host mom stating that she was an evangelical. Whoooops. Major foot in mouth moment. I had no idea that she was.
Then I tried to explain that there was a difference...because there is. Unfortunately, the language barrier kept my message from coming in clear, and my host mom just thought I was over generalizing. I don't think I am. I am afraid of any religion that thinks the Bible should be taken literally, that homosexuality is a sin, and that evolution is a sham. I'm sorry everyone, that's just how I feel.
Later that night, I messed up again. It was my host sister's birthday, so we all sat together to watch a movie that I brought. I thought that they would like it, since it's set in Paris, and lots of the dialogue is in french. Unfortunately, I forgot that a lot of the humor is a tad risque....which my host mom did not appreciate. When I asked if she liked it, she flatly told me no. Whoooops again.
But, that was one weird night out of many wonderful ones. And I'm trying to think less about time, and more about experiences. I guess maybe I just had a few downer days.
Well, that's all for now.
Until next time,
Love,
Becca
Friday, October 24, 2008
2 for the price of 1: First Part, Barcelona
Exactly a week ago, I was out and about in Barcelona. Well, technically, at 12:22 am, last saturday, I was in this strange "fun town" about a hour drive from Barcelona. The program set up the trip and our program director who also happens to be a business professor invited some of her students along. I'm really glad that she did, because it not only gave me a low stress chance to practice my french, I made a few good friends out of the deal.
The hotel we stayed at was a "resort", though I've been to nicer motor lodges in the U.S. I'm not really complaining though. We had a warm place to sleep, a bathroom, and food provided. The town was, like I said, some strange resort/fun town. All that was there were hotels, bars, discotheques, and late night eateries. We discothequ-ed it up both nights until the wee hours of the morning. During saturday and sunday, however, we were bused into the actual city of Barcelona. Unfortunately, it rained all weekend. :( But Barcelona was still cool nonetheless. Some friends and I wandered miles and miles through Barcelona on saturday hitting up Sagrada Familila (which quite frankly was kind of ugly...), other churches, and finally ended up at Parc Guell. The parc was designed by Gaudi and is just as amazing as everyone has told me. We hiked up to the summit right above the park and overlooked the entire city, all the way out to the sea. It was pretty incredible.
Sunday, we didn't have much time, so went to the Picasso museum, and then sat down for a nice Spanish lunch of Paella, tapas, and sangria. Due to the rain, La Rambla...the main promenade was rather sparse with street performers. Did see a few, the "monkey" man made lewd gestures at me...so that was fun. Unfortunately, the weekend flew by like most good times do, and we were back in Montpellier before I even knew it.
The hotel we stayed at was a "resort", though I've been to nicer motor lodges in the U.S. I'm not really complaining though. We had a warm place to sleep, a bathroom, and food provided. The town was, like I said, some strange resort/fun town. All that was there were hotels, bars, discotheques, and late night eateries. We discothequ-ed it up both nights until the wee hours of the morning. During saturday and sunday, however, we were bused into the actual city of Barcelona. Unfortunately, it rained all weekend. :( But Barcelona was still cool nonetheless. Some friends and I wandered miles and miles through Barcelona on saturday hitting up Sagrada Familila (which quite frankly was kind of ugly...), other churches, and finally ended up at Parc Guell. The parc was designed by Gaudi and is just as amazing as everyone has told me. We hiked up to the summit right above the park and overlooked the entire city, all the way out to the sea. It was pretty incredible.
Sunday, we didn't have much time, so went to the Picasso museum, and then sat down for a nice Spanish lunch of Paella, tapas, and sangria. Due to the rain, La Rambla...the main promenade was rather sparse with street performers. Did see a few, the "monkey" man made lewd gestures at me...so that was fun. Unfortunately, the weekend flew by like most good times do, and we were back in Montpellier before I even knew it.
Wednesday, October 15, 2008
Saturday, October 11, 2008
By Request....A Day in the Life.
My mother has requested and perhaps other readers would like, an account of an average day in Montpellier.
Here goes.
Well, depending on when I have class, which is only Mon-Thurs, and late on monday and wednesday, I manage to pull myself out of bed. Then, it's on to the shower in my host family's apartment. The shower is very nice, full tub, decent water pressure, good temp....the only slight problem is that it is removable, but not stationed on the wall. It can make for some awkward maneuvering at times, but it works alright. So in conclusion: Just like the French people, my shower head does whatever it damn well pleases.
After I daddle around the apartment for a while, I suddenly realize I will miss my bus, so I stuff some (good) bread in my mouth, grab my bag and bus pass and run out the door. Luckily the bus stop is close: just across the street, and the 15 (my bus) comes incredibly often, every 5 minutes!...or so they claim.
I happen to enjoy public transportation, especially buses. You meet the most interesting people on the bus. The 15 happens to be the most used and latest running bus in Montpellier, so there are always families, kids, teens, creeps, grandmothers, and all kinds of ethnicities. It runs through a large North African/Middle Eastern part of town, so I like to look out the window at all the markets and Hallal butcher shops. The people in the area are amazing to watch as well. I really want to take pictures of some of the elders....but I don't know how to do this without seeming crazy or creepy....hmmm.
The rest of the journey to school is fairly uneventful, after the bus, I jump on a tram and then walk a few blocks to Paul Valery Universite. I have quite a few required classes for Americans, which have been very useful for me. I have only two classes in the regular college system and they are both literature courses...one francophone lit and the other english. They are not easy. The french university system is still a mystery to me and the professors are not required to be helpful in the least. Although I pay quite a lot for it, I do enjoy profesors that have office hours, and are available to speak after class. I miss the U rather often.
Depending on how much time I have after my last class, I generally like to do a little exploring. Often, I head down to the program office first, to mingle with the staff, get something to drink, go on the computer. I really Natacha (one of our assistants), she always calls me belle, and is refreshingly friendly...plus, she smells wonderful. Must find out her perfume....
After that, I like to wander around the city center looking for interesting stores and cafe. I found this chocolate shop the other day, and for 3 Euro, I gorged myself ......bad idea....but soooo good. At some point, I decide it's best to return home where I greet my family, talk a bit about my day, unload my homework and get ready for dinner. My host mom is an amazing cook....I'm surprised I haven't gained more weight. After dinner, my host siblings usually watch something on the tv, and if I don't have much homework (rare occurrence) I join them and try to figure out what's going on. My french is improving daily thanks to my host family. I made the right housing choice.
On tuesday nights, I head down to the Shakespeare Pub with a couple friends for their weekly Quiz Night. I've gone three times now, and once we came in 2nd! We keep getting beat by these old english guys...but they have quiz tee-shirts. I don't feel quite so bad losing to a guy with a tee-shirt.
On weekend nights, I usually go out with friends, if we're especially broke, we go to one of the apartments, if not we find a pub or bar to hang out at. I haven't made it to any of the discotheques yet, but I see people boarding them when I'm catching my bus HOME...and the crowd seems rather teenaged and irritating...I guess we'll see.
Otherwise, it's rinse and repeat here. Some weekends we have excursions or friends travel around. This weekend the program is taking us for a weekend in Barcelona!
Pictures to come.
Love,
Becca
Here goes.
Well, depending on when I have class, which is only Mon-Thurs, and late on monday and wednesday, I manage to pull myself out of bed. Then, it's on to the shower in my host family's apartment. The shower is very nice, full tub, decent water pressure, good temp....the only slight problem is that it is removable, but not stationed on the wall. It can make for some awkward maneuvering at times, but it works alright. So in conclusion: Just like the French people, my shower head does whatever it damn well pleases.
After I daddle around the apartment for a while, I suddenly realize I will miss my bus, so I stuff some (good) bread in my mouth, grab my bag and bus pass and run out the door. Luckily the bus stop is close: just across the street, and the 15 (my bus) comes incredibly often, every 5 minutes!...or so they claim.
I happen to enjoy public transportation, especially buses. You meet the most interesting people on the bus. The 15 happens to be the most used and latest running bus in Montpellier, so there are always families, kids, teens, creeps, grandmothers, and all kinds of ethnicities. It runs through a large North African/Middle Eastern part of town, so I like to look out the window at all the markets and Hallal butcher shops. The people in the area are amazing to watch as well. I really want to take pictures of some of the elders....but I don't know how to do this without seeming crazy or creepy....hmmm.
The rest of the journey to school is fairly uneventful, after the bus, I jump on a tram and then walk a few blocks to Paul Valery Universite. I have quite a few required classes for Americans, which have been very useful for me. I have only two classes in the regular college system and they are both literature courses...one francophone lit and the other english. They are not easy. The french university system is still a mystery to me and the professors are not required to be helpful in the least. Although I pay quite a lot for it, I do enjoy profesors that have office hours, and are available to speak after class. I miss the U rather often.
Depending on how much time I have after my last class, I generally like to do a little exploring. Often, I head down to the program office first, to mingle with the staff, get something to drink, go on the computer. I really Natacha (one of our assistants), she always calls me belle, and is refreshingly friendly...plus, she smells wonderful. Must find out her perfume....
After that, I like to wander around the city center looking for interesting stores and cafe. I found this chocolate shop the other day, and for 3 Euro, I gorged myself ......bad idea....but soooo good. At some point, I decide it's best to return home where I greet my family, talk a bit about my day, unload my homework and get ready for dinner. My host mom is an amazing cook....I'm surprised I haven't gained more weight. After dinner, my host siblings usually watch something on the tv, and if I don't have much homework (rare occurrence) I join them and try to figure out what's going on. My french is improving daily thanks to my host family. I made the right housing choice.
On tuesday nights, I head down to the Shakespeare Pub with a couple friends for their weekly Quiz Night. I've gone three times now, and once we came in 2nd! We keep getting beat by these old english guys...but they have quiz tee-shirts. I don't feel quite so bad losing to a guy with a tee-shirt.
On weekend nights, I usually go out with friends, if we're especially broke, we go to one of the apartments, if not we find a pub or bar to hang out at. I haven't made it to any of the discotheques yet, but I see people boarding them when I'm catching my bus HOME...and the crowd seems rather teenaged and irritating...I guess we'll see.
Otherwise, it's rinse and repeat here. Some weekends we have excursions or friends travel around. This weekend the program is taking us for a weekend in Barcelona!
Pictures to come.
Love,
Becca
Monday, October 6, 2008
Deutschland Disaster....of sorts
I am writing this blog on a computer in the Frankfurt-Hahn airport internet cafe, and the man across from me is playing some ridiculous war game at a ridiculously loud volume. I have just come in from the rain, looking a lot like a wet dog. I am tired, wet, and hungry, and damnnit I just want to go home.
This is the story of an American girl in germany.
I started this trip to Oktoberfest in Munich with my friends Scott, Kelsey, and Meg in the Montpellier airport. From there, our Ryanair flight arrived safely at Frankfurt-Hahn, which is at least an hour and thirty minute ride from the actual city of Frankfurt. Scott and I jumped on the shuttle which took us to....Mainz?..
Apparently, we must have jumped off the shuttle a tad prematurely,... but the good news was that there was still a train going to Munich at 2 am.
Scott and I, being early in Mainz at 11:30, and being the resourceful folks we are decided to wander through the dark downtown of Mainz. I found an open bar and it was perfect. A real local dive. Without the whole speaking german thing, it could have been any northern wisconsin bar: a few old locals, a dyed blonde, smoke-aged barmaid, good, cheap, german beer, an assortment of oldies playing from the ancient jukebox, and a dark, smoky atmosphere. Scott and I paid 3 euro each for the biggest, best glasses of beer I have ever had.
But, wait....Next disaster: Scott and I return to the train station to catch our train to Munich....and apparently we got on the wrong one, because we soon found out that the destination was Basse, not Munich. At Frankfurt, Scott and I run off of the train, only to be told to reboard and wait to transfer in Mannheim. We do this, but the Mannheim to Munich train was overbooked. So, we huddle on the floor of the train until a compartment can be found. Of course, it being 3 am, Scott and I fall asleep. I wake in time to see a sign saying -Muenchen HBF- We are here!
We run off the train, as people are strangely trying to pile on and look around the station. I must have seen the wrong sign, because we got off in Augsburg...an hour from Munich. We then wait another 30 minutes for the next train to Munich. When it arrives, the doors are rushed by drunks wearing lederhosen and dirndls. I don't know how, but I manage to back my huge backpack and me onto the train, grab scott by the shirt front and haul him in after me. We were packed like chattle. It was miserable. That's really all there is to say about that.
By the time we get to Munich, we are both exhausted and hungry. I try to call my friend Bath-sheba (who we were staying with) but the number wont work. We are stuck once again. Luckily I had her address and we were able to navigate the tramways and streets until we were standing at her front door. I knocked,...no answer. Being resourceful people, we pulled out a blanket and curled up outside her door where she found us asleep a couple hours later.
Oktoberfest: Lots of people, lots of beer, lots of drunks.
Friday night was fun, sheba, scott, and I met up with meg, kelsey, and zach. We had our first Oktoberfest beers, some bratwurst and good times.
The next day, it rained, rained, and rained some more. We waited in a huddled line to get into a beer tent...and I thought I was going to die. As the hours went on, the line got shorter, and more compact. I had three gross italian men behind me, brushing their hands across my butt and telling me to 'relax, smile, don't worry' - all in garbled english accents. Then, just before I was about to give up, the guard that looked a lot like Saddam Hussein (who isn't dead, just working at Oktoberfest) quit pushes me and finally let Sheba, Scott and I inside.
Inside the beer tent, we spend another 30 minutes just looking for space at a table. In the course of this table hunting, I am assaulted (kind of) by two drunk guys who sandwich me between them and start pushing me. After Bath-Sheba hauls them off of me, we find a table with some German men who are half in the bag. Fun occurs after this in the form of beer, bratwurst, and lots and lots of singing. Finally, Sheba and I call it quits early and retire for a chill night at her apartment.
Big Disaster!: On sunday, we find a cheap way to get back to Frankfurt in the form of a rideshare. A very nice man agreed to drive us to Frankfurt for 20 euro each. The only glitch in our plan.....traffic jams. The entire Autobahn system was backed up. Although our driver did his best....there was nothing more he could do. We missed our flight by an hour and a half. Luckily we were able to make it on the next flight....unfortunately the next flight was 7 the next day....and would cost us each 75 euro....not to mention Scott lost his passport in the driver's car (but that's a whole other story).
So, the four of us pile into a tiny hotel room for the night, ...I took the floor. The next day, the three girls had a whole day to kill, unfortunately it was rainy and cold in Frankfurt-Hahn. We walked to the Shell station...yes the gas station for breakfast and warmth, after which I walked back to the airport in the soaking rain...
Other than that, the flight was on time, I made it back to the apartment, straggled in at 9:45, only to discover that the two swiss teenage boys that have been staying with us for the past week are here for still another week! Uggggghhhh, it doesn't help that I don't like them much or that they have decided to practice their english swearing on my host sister at the dinner table. oooooo, if I had been home, I would have ripped them some new ones.
But otherwise, I am home, I am safe, and I do have homework and class early tomorrow morning. Ohhhh fun.
Well, that's all folks. Slightly more upbeat posts are on the way.
Becca
This is the story of an American girl in germany.
I started this trip to Oktoberfest in Munich with my friends Scott, Kelsey, and Meg in the Montpellier airport. From there, our Ryanair flight arrived safely at Frankfurt-Hahn, which is at least an hour and thirty minute ride from the actual city of Frankfurt. Scott and I jumped on the shuttle which took us to....Mainz?..
Apparently, we must have jumped off the shuttle a tad prematurely,... but the good news was that there was still a train going to Munich at 2 am.
Scott and I, being early in Mainz at 11:30, and being the resourceful folks we are decided to wander through the dark downtown of Mainz. I found an open bar and it was perfect. A real local dive. Without the whole speaking german thing, it could have been any northern wisconsin bar: a few old locals, a dyed blonde, smoke-aged barmaid, good, cheap, german beer, an assortment of oldies playing from the ancient jukebox, and a dark, smoky atmosphere. Scott and I paid 3 euro each for the biggest, best glasses of beer I have ever had.
But, wait....Next disaster: Scott and I return to the train station to catch our train to Munich....and apparently we got on the wrong one, because we soon found out that the destination was Basse, not Munich. At Frankfurt, Scott and I run off of the train, only to be told to reboard and wait to transfer in Mannheim. We do this, but the Mannheim to Munich train was overbooked. So, we huddle on the floor of the train until a compartment can be found. Of course, it being 3 am, Scott and I fall asleep. I wake in time to see a sign saying -Muenchen HBF- We are here!
We run off the train, as people are strangely trying to pile on and look around the station. I must have seen the wrong sign, because we got off in Augsburg...an hour from Munich. We then wait another 30 minutes for the next train to Munich. When it arrives, the doors are rushed by drunks wearing lederhosen and dirndls. I don't know how, but I manage to back my huge backpack and me onto the train, grab scott by the shirt front and haul him in after me. We were packed like chattle. It was miserable. That's really all there is to say about that.
By the time we get to Munich, we are both exhausted and hungry. I try to call my friend Bath-sheba (who we were staying with) but the number wont work. We are stuck once again. Luckily I had her address and we were able to navigate the tramways and streets until we were standing at her front door. I knocked,...no answer. Being resourceful people, we pulled out a blanket and curled up outside her door where she found us asleep a couple hours later.
Oktoberfest: Lots of people, lots of beer, lots of drunks.
Friday night was fun, sheba, scott, and I met up with meg, kelsey, and zach. We had our first Oktoberfest beers, some bratwurst and good times.
The next day, it rained, rained, and rained some more. We waited in a huddled line to get into a beer tent...and I thought I was going to die. As the hours went on, the line got shorter, and more compact. I had three gross italian men behind me, brushing their hands across my butt and telling me to 'relax, smile, don't worry' - all in garbled english accents. Then, just before I was about to give up, the guard that looked a lot like Saddam Hussein (who isn't dead, just working at Oktoberfest) quit pushes me and finally let Sheba, Scott and I inside.
Inside the beer tent, we spend another 30 minutes just looking for space at a table. In the course of this table hunting, I am assaulted (kind of) by two drunk guys who sandwich me between them and start pushing me. After Bath-Sheba hauls them off of me, we find a table with some German men who are half in the bag. Fun occurs after this in the form of beer, bratwurst, and lots and lots of singing. Finally, Sheba and I call it quits early and retire for a chill night at her apartment.
Big Disaster!: On sunday, we find a cheap way to get back to Frankfurt in the form of a rideshare. A very nice man agreed to drive us to Frankfurt for 20 euro each. The only glitch in our plan.....traffic jams. The entire Autobahn system was backed up. Although our driver did his best....there was nothing more he could do. We missed our flight by an hour and a half. Luckily we were able to make it on the next flight....unfortunately the next flight was 7 the next day....and would cost us each 75 euro....not to mention Scott lost his passport in the driver's car (but that's a whole other story).
So, the four of us pile into a tiny hotel room for the night, ...I took the floor. The next day, the three girls had a whole day to kill, unfortunately it was rainy and cold in Frankfurt-Hahn. We walked to the Shell station...yes the gas station for breakfast and warmth, after which I walked back to the airport in the soaking rain...
Other than that, the flight was on time, I made it back to the apartment, straggled in at 9:45, only to discover that the two swiss teenage boys that have been staying with us for the past week are here for still another week! Uggggghhhh, it doesn't help that I don't like them much or that they have decided to practice their english swearing on my host sister at the dinner table. oooooo, if I had been home, I would have ripped them some new ones.
But otherwise, I am home, I am safe, and I do have homework and class early tomorrow morning. Ohhhh fun.
Well, that's all folks. Slightly more upbeat posts are on the way.
Becca
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