Musee Day

For our second day in Paris, my mom and I decided to check out some art museums. I'd been to the Louvre once before, but she wanted to see the Mona Lisa, so off we went. I love Renaissance art and didn't have much of a chance to look at it closely the last time; this time around, I saw basically nothing but Renaissance art. We went up to the Italian art section first thing, and there were so many people there that after we finished looking at that one section, my mom felt claustrophobic enough to ask for a break to get something to drink and then to go to the Musee d'Orsay. I can't say I blame her; we were already tired from walking through the museum, and it was really crowded.

I'd consistently heard good things about the Musee d'Orsay, and I'm a fan of impressionism, so I was pretty excited to pay a visit. Mom wanted to see some Monets, which we eventually did. There were so many pieces I studied for my art history class two years ago! I wish I could have taken some pictures, but unfortunately photography was forbidden. It was still incredible, and the best use of an old train station I've ever come across.

After the Musee d'Orsay, we walked to the Metro and went back to our hotel. Both of us were nodding off on the way, and when we got to our room, my mom went right to sleep and I ended up taking a nap myself. Neither of us was hungry for dinner, so we sat around eating trail mix and plantain chips and watching news about the French election on Al-Jazeera English. Speaking of which, we saw quite a few reporters milling about in central Paris this afternoon. It's pretty awesome to be in France when such an important election is happening.

Last full day in Paris tomorrow. I'm sad the time is going by so quickly, but London calls on Tuesday, and I'm basically jumping up and down about the idea of finally visiting in person. Plus, we get to speak English! I can get by with French, of course, and a lot of people in Paris do speak or at least understand English, but it's nice not to have to worry about using your non-native tongue for a while. A demain!

My mom and me in front of the Louvre

Beginnings (and Korra, "The Revelation")

I woke up this morning at an ungodly hour to catch a train to Paris. My excitement to see my mother overpowering my grumpiness at having to get out of bed, I made it to Lille-Flandres with plenty of time to spare and ended up in Paris without incident. If I had thought ahead, I would have bought a train ticket directly to the airport to meet my mother, but instead I ended up having to take a regional train once I got to Paris-Nord. This was a crowded and uncomfortable experience, and my poor mother had to wait for me much longer than I was comfortable with, but we eventually found each other. Charles de Gaulle is one of the most confusing airports I've ever been to. It's a good thing I knew which terminal my mom was flying into, because her cell phone doesn't work in Europe and we had no way to get in contact with one another.

It was wonderful to see her. I've been looking forward to this trip for about two months now, and it's hard to believe it's actually happening. We didn't talk much at first, mostly because we had to take the packed regional train and then the Metro back into Paris and to our hotel, but after we dropped our things off, we had a nice lunch at a sandwich shop and just enjoyed being together. It was a reasonably nice day out; I regretted not taking my jacket with me from the hotel, but the sun occasionally made an appearance and the cold wasn't as noticeable as it has been recently. After lunch, we went up to our room, whereupon my mom promptly fell asleep for several hours, and I followed suit, waking up in time to watch the new Legend of Korra episode but not motivated to do much else. I fully expected my mom to be extremely jetlagged; I was basically a zombie when I first arrived in Europe, so frankly I'm impressed she managed to stay on her feet as long as she did. Around 6:30 we stepped out for dinner, and ended up eating at a vegetarian place called Aquarius I'd read good things about on TripAdvisor. We weren't disappointed; the food was tasty and the staff was very nice. Our server spoke some Spanish, so our meal ended up being a mishmash of my three languages (and my mom's two). My mom had expressed interest in seeing the Eiffel Tower, so we took the Metro out in that direction, but it was cold enough and the line was long enough that we decided to head back to our hotel without going up. We Skyped my dad and each took a shower, then watched some Spanish news on our TV. Museums tomorrow!

My mom at dinner

My dinner

Meanwhile, have some disjointed and spoilerific thoughts on the latest Korra episode:

Oh Hey There

I haven't been especially motivated to blog these last couple of weeks. Some of it has been just plain busyness; I had to write a ten-page paper in French for one of my classes, and I was filling out summer internship applications at the same time, so most of my writerly energies were focused elsewhere. This past week I've been putting last-minute details on a loose itinerary for my mom's visit. She arrives early Saturday morning, and we'll be spending eight days together in Paris, London, and the Netherlands. I'm very excited, but it is a little stressful to plan things out like this. Still, I imagine we'll have a great time, and I'm bringing my laptop, so hopefully I'll be able to give plenty of blog updates on our travels!

Other things:

• So I've lost a lot of weight lately. Last time I checked, I was eight pounds away from my ultimate target. I'm happy about this, but I'm not used to how different my body seems. It's sharp in odd places, where I can actually feel the angles of my bones. Is this how skinny people feel all the time? There's also the small problem that none of my clothes fit anymore. I have a pair of jeans that never fit spectacularly well to begin with, but now can't even be worn with a belt; I threw them on yesterday to go grocery shopping and ended up spending the entire time holding them up with one hand. My appetite has been weird, too; I'm constantly hungry, but when I actually eat, I get full very quickly.
• Went to see Mirror, Mirror in French with Eva on Tuesday. It was a very pretty movie, but a little light on substance. I haven't been able to get that final Bollywoodesque number out of my head, though, which is slightly frustrating. Interestingly enough, the dialogue was dubbed, but the song was still in English. Most songs in movies here are in English, actually. Most songs in general are in English, really.
• Korra continues to be my latest obsession, as anyone who follows my Tumblr can attest. New episode on Saturday! I hope iTunes has it up quickly, so I can take it in in all its HD glory.
• Not sure if I've mentioned this, but I'm going to Scotland in May! Along with the south of France and Ireland. Eva and I are greatly looking forward to it!
• The weather has been rainy and cold as of late. This is making me quite envious of my American friends and their 80+ degree temperatures. Speaking of which, I still think in Fahrenheit after nearly four months in France. Wish Celsius came easier to me!
• Fair-trade salted plantain chips from the Carrefour market across the street have become my latest crack. I've always loved plantain chips - they're widely available in Puerto Rico - but I've discovered they're the perfect snack for France in springtime. It's too cold for ice cream, I don't particularly care for potato chips, and they remind me of home. 
• The dryer downstairs is broken, so I've had to hang up all my wet clothes around my room and hope they're not still damp when I pack my suitcase tomorrow. I wish they didn't smell so weird.
• Jackie linked me to this blog yesterday. Glad there are others out there who understand my plight.

Winding Down

There isn't much happening in my life right now. Nearly all of my classes are finished; I'm just in the process of writing three final papers, and I'll officially be done with the academic portion of my semester abroad. I've also entered my second-to-last month in France, and when I consider that I'll be traveling for the better part of three weeks in late April and early May, the time seems to be going by that much more quickly. My thoughts have started to turn to the summer; I have an internship interview via Skype next Wednesday, and I'm hoping to hear back from a couple other places in the next few weeks. It looks like I'll be on the East Coast again, which I am okay with, though it occurs to me it's been a long time since I spent more than three weeks with my family. Well, I guess this was just part of the deal when I chose to go to college on the other side of the country.

In the meantime, here are some Citadelle pictures:

And because I assume you must appreciate my dorky fangirl tendencies at least a little bit, or you wouldn't be reading this blog, here is an incredibly nerdy picture of me with Korra hair:

Now I just need my Mako. Let's be real, though, I am actually an older Jinora, except I would want to waterbend instead of airbend.

Ahem. Anyway, off to Disneyland again tomorrow, since Leslie and her family are in Paris. Au revoir!

Goodbye to March in Dunkirk

Eva and I took a day trip to Dunkirk today. Dunkirk is a coastal town on the North Sea, right by the English Channel's narrowest point but too far away to actually see any England from the dunes. It was the first time I visited the beach since I've been in Europe, and while it was too cold and windy to swim, I did run up and touch the water and collect a few seashells. The weather forecast had predicted a clear, if not particularly warm day, but from the point when Eva and I arrived at about eleven to just after we finished our tea/hot chocolate at two, it was completely overcast. Luckily a few streaks of blue had appeared between the clouds when we were strolling along the beach, which made for a lovely contrast with the sea and the rocks sticking up out of it. I thought about the battle which made Dunkirk famous in 1940, where the Germans had defeated the French and the English were forced to retreat. It was eerie to think that men had fought and died less than a hundred years ago on that same stretch of beach, where children now flew their kites and people jogged and walked their dogs. History is always with us, but sometimes I wonder how and if it stays with the land.

Apart from the beach, Eva and I came across a huge open-air market in the city center, which sold basically everything under the sun, and we took a walk inside an old church and browsed the selection at the local mall. I didn't buy anything, but I was shocked to discover that at least according the stores we visited, I am now more or less a size 8, and am sometimes capable of fitting into a 6 with minimal discomfort. At this rate my entire wardrobe will have to go to the Salvation Army when I get home, although I can't really afford to buy lots of new clothes. I'm happy, though.

Nothing much else of consequence has happened. I've been having trouble sleeping lately, but hopefully after a long day of walking and sightseeing, I'll be able to get some quality rest. Going to Paris to see Leslie and her family on Wednesday. Other than that, it's paper writing and job application central for me!

Un Jour Chez Mickey

Some days study abroad is frustrating. Some days study abroad is not much different from my regular UVa days. Some days study abroad is awesome. Today was one of those days, because I went here:

Disneyland Paris is in many ways very much like its American counterpart. I have been to Disneyland in Anaheim several times, enough to know the names of most of the rides, where they are, and they experience they provide. Quite a few of them have been transplanted into Disneyland Paris verbatim; the little Snow White ride, The Haunted Mansion, Star Tours, and the Tower of Terror were basically the same, except the recorded dialogue was mostly in French. Some were completely different; Paris's Indiana Jones ride is just a roller coaster, and not at all the fun wild jeep ride I love so much in Anaheim. I almost laughed aloud when I saw that instead of churros, the French Disneyland sells crepes, and it was certainly odd when Eva asked a shop assistant about Rapunzel merchandise, and I had to clarify with her French name (Raiponce) because we were met with a blank stare. The overall experience, however, feels very familiar.

It was a beautiful day to go, warm enough that I nearly took off my jacket around lunchtime, and clear as a bell. Eva and I were happy to discover that the TGV station we had chosen was right next to the park, and getting in was a cinch, complete with excellent student prices (46 euro for a one-day park-hopper pass). Since Eva has some problems with motion sickness, we rode quite a few of the smaller, child-oriented rides; it's surprising how nice a time you can have just floating in a boat on Storybookland or chilling on a carousel horse. I do appreciate not having to worry about a height limit anymore, however; The Tower of Terror is one of my favorite rides, and I loved going on it once again.

There were a few hiccoughs; neither of us realized how early the parks close in the offseason, and we ended up having about three hours to kill once we left the smaller not-MGM-Studios-but-similar park. The food is as expensive as you might expect, and not really worth the price, especially if you're a vegetarian, so I regretted not bringing more with me instead of eating something substandard. Incidentally, there is a Downtown-Disney of sorts with a much nicer and cheaper sandwich shop, which had delicious tomato soup and vegetarian options that looked tasty (never got to try one, unfortunately). Eva's motion sickness hit on Star Tours and wasn't helped by Space Mountain, and while I didn't mind waiting with her until she felt better, I wished she had been able to have a nice, illness-free day. When all is said and done, though, it was a great time. A day at Disneyland is a day of virtually guaranteed fun, Paris or otherwise.

When Sinuses Rebel

Back during the first semester of my first year at UVA, I took a seminar-style class called American Political Tradition. There was a lot of rather heated discussion of the day's issues in that class, and I remember the time healthcare reform came up. Our teacher told us that she was uninsured throughout her twenties, which is taking a pretty big gamble considering how hideously expensive healthcare is in the United States, but luckily nothing happened and she felt free to purchase insurance when she was older. The class's most strident conservative smugly argued that this was why people should not be "forced" to buy health insurance; they can get along fine without it. I was one of the more outspoken leftists in the class, and I jumped to healthcare reform's defense. "But what if you had gotten into a car accident or broken a leg?" I asked our teacher. "You could have been financially ruined. Young people think they're invincible, and it's true that they rarely have serious healthcare issues, but it's better to be safe than sorry!" And it goes without saying that in the United States, not being insured can make you very sorry indeed.

It turns out that I am a dirty hypocrite, because when I got to France, I didn't bother to go get French insurance. "I'm not going to get sick," I told myself. "It's only five months. What's the worst that can happen? I'll just have to take care of myself and be vigilant when crossing the street, and it'll be fine." Well, the expression "famous last words" came about for a reason. This past weekend and for a few days before that, I had been feeling considerable sinus pressure, to the point where it was difficult to sleep at night because my chest felt so constricted and my head was throbbing. I tried to ignore it, but last night it got to the point where I Skyped with my mom and told her how bad it had gotten. She told me to go to the doctor, and I knew she meant business. She's a registered nurse, and she said that my symptoms seemed consistent with a sinus infection, which if left untreated could turn into pneumonia. That scared me. I started taking ibuprofen, which helped, and promptly at 8 I hopped on the Metro to go to Universite de Lille 2's student health center.

Ostensibly the health center opened at 8:30, but they didn't actually unlock the front door until nearly 8:40, and then I had to explain myself to the lady at the front desk in my terrible French. There was no doctor in that day, so the nurse on duty took my temperature (normal), listened to my symptoms, and recommended me to another practice up the street. Off I went. Luckily the doctor up there spoke English, which meant I didn't have to sound like a complete idiot (I don't like not being able to express myself, which is what usually happens when I try to have a meaningful conversation in French). She listened to my heart and my breathing, took my blood pressure, and looked in my ears, and then told me that I didn't have a sinus infection (I would have a fever if I did), but that she would write me a prescription so that if it developed into one, I would have antibiotics to turn to. In the meantime, I should keep taking ibuprofen. Then she asked me for 23 euro in cash, which I didn't have, so I had to run out to an ATM and give it to her secretary. This would not have happened if I had bothered to turn in a few forms and get insurance. Yeah, I are dumb, guys.

I went back to my place, ate a quick breakfast, took more ibuprofen, and went to sleep. I ended up sleeping the rest of the morning and most of the early afternoon. It was nice to actually be able to sleep, and sleep well, though I woke up groggy and disoriented as I always do if I nap in the middle of the day.

The rest of the day felt completely separate from the morning. I walked to the Citadelle to meet Eva, where we ambled along one of the winding paths and just talked. She's a great person to hang out with - I'm glad we're friends. We then headed into the city center and had hot chocolate at a cafe. She had a French class that evening, so we said good-bye and I took the Metro back to my place; I would have walked, but it was getting dark, and I always feel slightly anxious about walking by myself in a city after dark. It was a good afternoon, though, and it took my mind off my sinuses. Thank God for friends!

Vendredi/Samedi

Okay, so I may or may not have seen the first episode of The Legend of Korra today, but I don't feel at liberty to discuss it until next week, when it's officially released online to fans. So instead, I'll talk a little more about yesterday, A Ring of Endless Light, and how my Saturday went.

I. Yesterday, Continued

As I was walking into the Citadelle, I saw a group of school-aged children leaving the playground with their teachers. They were all really cute, about five or six years old at the most, and well, here is the conversation I have with myself every time I see adorable kids:

Ovaries: Want.
Me: Not yet.
Ovaries: Please?
Me: Ovaries, I haven't even had a boyfriend yet. Aren't you getting a little ahead of yourselves?
Ovaries: But - but - they're so cute!
Me: (sigh) I know, right?
Ovaries: So?!
Me: Give me five to ten years and we'll talk. In the meantime, you'll have to content yourselves with babysitting or surprise adoption.
Ovaries: Fine.
Me: Good. 

Anyway, so I kind of smiled as I watched the kids hold each other's hands to cross the street, because it was really stinkin' cute. But one of their teachers saw me, and she sort of frowned at me, so I looked away quickly. I hope she didn't think I was some kind of creepy weirdo or child predator! Is it weird to be dotingly amused by children in France?

II. A Ring of Endless Light

I'm about halfway through my audiobook reread of A Ring of Endless Light. It continues to be ridiculously good, although I am bothered by a few things on occasion. For one, I don't get why Vicky gives Zachary the time of day. I mean, thematically, I understand why he's a part of the story; he's a foil to both Adam and Leo, he represents a darker viewpoint in a story about death, and he's ultimately what Vicky doesn't want, because he's needy and manipulative alongside his good looks. But he annoys me so much, and it frustrates me that Vicky buys into his codependent nonsense. Also, Vicky and Adam have a conversation on a hot day in which she tells him that she's "thinking of becoming an Arab" because Middle Eastern accoutrements are better-suited to warm weather. I understand the sentiment, and maybe I'm just too politically correct, but Vicky's usage of the word "Arab" makes me uncomfortable - it could be that I hear way too many ignorant Republicans using it in weird ways. Anyway, it just stood out to me. Overall, though, I'm enjoying it so much.

III. Today

Slept late, went to the grocery store, folded laundry, brainstormed some internship essays, Skyped with Sarah, made dinner. Will Skype with Pooja shortly.

Disneyland and The Hunger Games coming soon. Can't wait!
 

Odds and Ends

• A Ring of Endless Light is just as good as I remembered. I may or may not be trying to write a novel myself, and my goal is to have it make other people feel like L'Engle's books make me feel. Her turn of phrase is absolutely wonderful.
• My Churchill class is officially over. The exam was this evening, and it was short and sweet. I wish my other classes were organized this way, because I really don't want to write three long papers in the next month. I know I'll survive, and being a native English speaker will help for two of them, but this semester has not been good for my work ethic. I'm going to have a rude awakening when I get back to UVa.
• I've been short of breath for the past few days and I'm not sure why. Hopefully it's nothing to be concerned about.
• The washing machines are so small here. Ideally this would mean that I would actually wash my clothes once a week and don't let them pile up in my suitcase until I'm out of clean underwear, but what it actually means is that I wear everything I own, and when I have no clothes left, I load it up with as much as it can handle, then wait impatiently in my pajamas for about two-three hours, which is an average wash and dry cycle combined.
• Beautiful weather today. It's supposed to continue into tomorrow, so I will try to wake up early enough to walk to class. It's a sure thing that I'll be walking home, anyway.
• Current flail topics: The Legend of Korra, the first episode of which might be released early online by Nickelodeon next Saturday, The Hunger Games movie, which I am entirely too excited about for someone who was pretty ambivalent about the books, trip-planning, and of course, going to Disneyland next week.
• Even five-hour time differences make interacting with your U.S. friends difficult. I got to Skype with Sarah and IM with Pooja, which was lovely, but I miss hearing from my other friends. And let's not talk about California; my parents and I chat fairly regularly, but eight/nine hours (eight for the moment, since France is not yet on Daylight Savings Time) is no picnic.
• Peanut butter is the best. I don't know how the French survive without it. Nutella is delicious, but it is most definitely not the same thing.
• So I am about halfway through my study abroad semester already. How did that happen?!

Audiobooks and Awesome

Once I posted my top ten list last night, I had an incredible urge to read A Ring of Endless Light again. Unfortunately, since I wanted to travel light, I left almost all of my books in storage in Virginia, and in any case I lent my copy out to a friend quite a while ago now. Luckily Amazon Prime has a partnership with Audible.com, and not only could I download the Ring of Endless Light audiobook for free, but my free trial also gave me one more credit to use how I liked. I ended up picking the behind-the-scenes 2008 election account Game Change, which is supposed to be kind of trashy but also really interesting. I'm about halfway through it at the moment, and I can confirm that it is both of those things. Incidentally, I watched the HBO movie this weekend. I was surprised at how much it humanized Sarah Palin, but it also underlined just how idiotic a choice she was. She was utterly unprepared for the position she was thrust into, both because she wasn't properly vetted and because she is willfully ignorant. Anyway, it felt very much like a TV movie, and some parts were laughably melodramatic, but overall it wasn't a bad way to spend a couple of hours.

Today was a pretty good day. As usual, I slept later than I should have, but once I got up, I did several things I'd been meaning to do for a few days and then had a couple of good classes at Sciences Po. Afterward, I had some tasty leftovers, Skyped with Ruth and Leslie, and flailed around on the Internet because a) The Hunger Games is getting great buzz, and I get to see it next week (it comes out in France on Wednesday, but I'm going to Disneyland with Eva, so I'll probably go Thursday morning if there isn't a midnight showing Tuesday night), and b) it looks like the Legend of Korra airdate will be announced this week! Finally! Also, the weight loss is continuing to go really well; all of my jeans are too big for me, and I'm pretty sure I've gone down another dress size, although I don't plan on going clothes shopping anytime soon, so I can't know for certain. Still, I'm happy. Life is good!

Dimanche

Since I have been terrible at blogging consistently, I thought I would tell you what a typical Sunday in Lille is like, in case I happen to miss a bunch of Sundays and you're fraught with the desire to know what I do with them.

So back in Virginia, I have a job in addition to taking classes that actually require some effort. This means that while I am something of a night owl while I am at UVa, I'm still usually asleep by 1:30 in the morning. Here in France, I have neither a job nor classes that start before 10, with the result that I stay up until 3 in the morning or later rather more often than is really wise. Weekends make this problem much worse (or better, depending on your point of view). Last night, I was watching Kim Possible on YouTube and didn't go to sleep until four in the morning. Part of this I blame on residual rubbish from being sick, and the other part I blame on me for not having common sense. This is particularly relevant because I had to get up with enough time to shower before church. Church is at 10; I got up at 8:30. 4.5 hours of sleep for the lose!

I leave my place about ten minutes before worship is scheduled to begin, which means I usually arrive about five minutes late, but since nothing starts when it is supposed to, I get there just on time! Today I was very slightly late; I shall take this as a sign that my timing skills need a little honing. I go to a French Baptist church that reminds me a lot of Primera in Mexicali, except there's obviously a different language that's still difficult for me to understand and harder to speak. If I'm paying attention, though, I get the gist of what everyone is saying. There's a lot of praying and singing (and praying while singing); I'm not so great at the praying out loud in French part (to be fair, I'm not great at the praying out loud in English part either; my faith is a quieter one). Then there's a long sermon (I have my English Bible to follow along with, and also if the sermon is boring there are always good stories to read somewhere in the Bible), followed by more praying, then communion.

Communion here is done by passing around a bowl full of bread and then a cup. Some people eat their bread first and then take a sip from the cup, using a little cloth to wipe the brim afterward; others take communion by intinction, which is when you dip the bread into the cup and have both elements at once. I find intinction slightly more sanitary, so I've been doing that. I think we might be drinking wine instead of grape juice, which explains why I don't really enjoy the communion bread here that much (I know that's not the point, but I am nothing if not brutally honest). Then more praying, offering, and we're done, which means a lot of "bon dimanche"-ing and doing that French thing where you kiss first one cheek, then the other as a way of saying good-bye.

Eva and I usually go to the street market directly after worship. The vegetables are quite cheap and generally tasty, so I usually come with a shopping bag, spend two or three Euro, and am set for the week in the fresh food department. Sometimes we then go to the Carrefour City closer to where she lives if I need to pick something up that can't wait until Monday; the Carrefour by my place closes at 12:30 on Sundays, which means it's pretty much impossible to get there after church. If it's cold out, I'll Metro back up to my part of Lille; if it's nice, like it was today, I'll walk.

I then proceed to veg out for a few hours, sometimes Skyping, sometimes reading, almost always Interneting in some capacity (I am just a veritable fountain of made-up verbs today, aren't I?), occasionally with a nap along the way if I'm lucky. Lately I've been making plans with Lille friends for Sunday evenings. Today Eva and I went to see The Artist and get some crepes in the nice part of Lille. (One-sentence film review: It was my first experience with a silent film, and I enjoyed it for what it was, but I'm not sure if it was worthy of Best Picture.) Then I Metroed back home, talked to Sara and my parents, and watched many, many charlieissocoollike videos on YouTube. I am starting to think I am secretly British, and just happened to be born an American by mistake, because every time I become obsessed with a new British thing, it feels completely natural and right, and also I am so ready to go actually spend some time there, you have no idea. But then I would have David Cameron in charge of my government instead of Barack Obama, and I am so not on board with that (though then again, I am completely on board with living in a country with a healthcare system as awesome as the NHS, and also Harry Potter). Consensus? Clearly, none.

Top ten literary crushes tomorrow? I am thinking yes.

French Snow Day (and Visited Countries Update)

Despite the relatively warm weather we've had over the past couple of weeks, we got about two inches of snow in Lille today. I was going to run some errands, and actually was dressed and ready to head out when I looked out my window and saw a rather unappealing mixture of slush and cold rain. Needless to say, my motivation for leaving my room evaporated. I don't have a choice in the matter tomorrow, though, since my French Politics and Institutions class is meeting and I've been quite good about going to all my classes this semester; I have missed a few history lectures, but that's because Sciences Po likes to schedule conflicting courses that last just three weeks.

Woke up late enough that cooking breakfast didn't really make sense, so I had tomato soup for lunch and made some hard-boiled eggs and sauteed vegetables for dinner. I'm still kind of hungry, but my weight loss is progressing at such a rate that I'm within twenty-five pounds of my ultimate goal, so I'm trying to eat less and eliminate most of the junk food from my diet. I think I'm going to start walking to Sciences Po, at least when it's daytime and not raining, to help with the exercise side of things. Any other tips/suggestions are appreciated!

Lastly, here are my two updated European maps after my trip to Germany. No Czech Republic, since we didn't get to go to Prague, but now I've spent more than one full day in Germany (in fact, I spent two), so that's going up on the official map. Don't know if I'll get to add much else, as my travel budget has been nearly depleted already, but I'd really like to go to Spain and Ireland at least if I can wrangle it. We'll see.

 

Countries I Have Spent at Least One Full Day and Night In

 

Everything in the First Map, Plus Countries I Have Technically Visited

 

Sometimes You Just Need a Day Where You Don't Change Out of Your Pajamas

After a full week of travel, I decided to take this day for a little rest and relaxation. Jackie and I Skyped until about two in the morning France time last night, so I was still a bit sleepy when I woke up this morning, but I had to run over to the Carrefour and get some essentials for the week; I cleaned out most of my shelf in the fridge before I left. Being the supremely lazy person I occasionally am, however, I just pulled yesterday's jeans and my UVa hoodie over my pajamas, threw my feet into a pair of flats, and walked to the store.

Since Jackie asked in passing how the food in France is, I figured I'd tell you a bit about the kinds of things I eat here. My staples are strawberry yogurt, eggs, and Spanish clementines, which are all relatively cheap and healthy. Today I also bought a small baguette, water, and tomato soup; I didn't feel much like cooking. I keep peanut butter from the States in my room, and I still have most of the grape jelly my mom sent me, so I had PB&J baguette for both breakfast and lunch, and a cup of yogurt and a clementine as a side in each meal respectively. I just finished a bowl of tomato soup for dinner tonight, and I'm glad I bought it, because it was delicious. Nothing all that exciting, to be honest, but after a week of excitement it was nice to just be boring for a day.

Not much else is happening. I spent a good hour today watching the first big gymnastics event of the year, the American Cup, and Gabrielle Douglas, who is fast becoming one of my favorite gymnasts, got the highest score out of anyone, even though technically she wasn't competing because she was the alternate. Such a night and day difference from her performance at Nationals, though, so I'm really happy for her. Tomorrow I'm going to read and do some internship applications, since I don't have to go to class, and maybe take a walk if it's nice out. Other than that, I have an inexplicable urge to watch Disney movies in French and paint my nails. Yeah, I can be pretty boring sometimes. :)

Leap Day in Deutschland

Really nice day today. Raquel and I got up around 9:30 and left for Munich (or, as it's known here in Germany, München) at 11. We had a pleasant two-hour drive on the autobahn, which involved listening to a lot of music and going at speeds that are frankly impossible in California. Fun fact: in certain places, there is no speed limit on the autobahn. The first time I heard this, I was astounded, and I thought German highway patrol would be up to their eyeballs in car wrecks, but actually, having experienced it for myself, the system seems to work pretty well. Raquel also pointed out the exit signs, the German word for which is "ausfahrt." She mentioned that when she arrived in Germany, she was astounded at the size of this great city, Ausfahrt, because there were signs for it everywhere. Then her husband pointed out what it actually meant. Frankly, it's an easy mistake to make, and I laughed when she told me that she's seen t-shirts with legends like "Ausfahrt: the biggest town in Germany" and the like (Urban Dictionary backs her up here).

Thank you, Google Images!

We got to Munich at one o'clock on the dot and headed over to the Alte Pinakothek, an art museum (my sixth in Europe so far, hells yeah), which houses, among other famous works, Albrecht Dürer's Self-Portrait in Fur Coat and The Four Apostles, and Leonardo Da Vinci's first painting, Madonna of the Carnation. Raquel mentioned she had never been to an art museum like it before, and she seemed to enjoy the experience. She really liked Hieronymus Bosch's work; I promised to show her The Garden of Earthly Delights before I went back to France. Working in the art history department comes in surprisingly handy!

Also, for the Doctor Who fans, behold François Boucher's Madame de Pompadour!

After a couple of hours, we decided to head out, though we weren't nearly done with the museum; we wanted to get to Dachau before the concentration camp memorial site closed. We grabbed some sandwiches to go at a bakery on the outskirts of Munich (mozzarella and tomato seems to be a favorite throughout Western Europe, which I appreciate very much as a vegetarian) and hopped back on the road. Dachau, as it turns out, is not very far at all from Munich, and twenty minutes later we were parked and walking onto the memorial site.

The front gates, with the motto "Arbeit Macht Frei"

It was a very strange feeling to be there. I've been surrounded by World War II lately; I'm taking a class on Winston Churchill, my Aftermath of Wars Since 1990 class mentioned post-World War II propaganda in passing, I visited the Anne Frank House in Amsterdam, and shortly afterwards I watched a well-regarded miniseries about her life. But, as the Anne Frank House taught me, there's an emotional distance between reading something and standing where the players have stood. Walking into Dachau felt chilling. I couldn't imagine how anyone could possibly deny the Holocaust happened; I stood in the room that had once been a gas chamber and saw the ovens and the barracks with my own eyes. Dachau wasn't even an extermination camp; it was first intended for political prisoners, and apparently few people were gassed there. But Raquel and I went by at least three memorial stones representing the thousands of people who died of illness, starvation, overwork, and execution, and down an avenue where all but two of the barracks had been torn down, but the foundations were left in their place. It was very quiet, very sad, and very real.

There was a chapel on the property; we lit some candles in honor of the victims

We left just after closing time. On the drive back to Grafenwöhr, Raquel, who had been sneezing all day, went downhill fast. I felt her cheek; she was burning up. I was sorry I couldn't volunteer to drive (apparently I would need a special European license for that), and glad when we finally got back. We went to have dinner with her friends Alex and Jason, both soldiers in the Army like Raquel's husband, at their house, where Raquel could take it easy. Alex made a pizza from scratch - he's a really good cook.

After dinner we sat around in the living room and watched Zombieland. They offered me a German beer, but I didn't like it, so Raquel made me a drink with pineapple juice and some coconut rum. I actually enjoyed it quite a bit, though I drank it very slowly and only after having had dinner. I'm paranoid about getting drunk. I think I may have had my first real buzz, though. I'm not sure if I really liked it, but it wasn't necessarily a bad feeling, just unusual. I noticed that I did slur my words a little toward the end of my drink, so I don't think I'll be repeating this often, but it was an interesting little experiment, and I'm glad I tried it at a house just hanging out with people rather than at a bar or a wild party.

We ended up crashing at Alex and Jason's place; Raquel says their couch is more comfortable than her bed, which helped her get some much-needed rest when she wasn't feeling well, and they had a spare room for me. Raquel mentioned that she was pretty sure we were going to have to cancel Prague; I was disappointed, but I saw how miserable her fever was making her, and knew it was for the best. And really, even though we aren't going to the Czech Republic, my time in Germany has been fun so far, Raquel getting sick aside. I'm glad I decided to pay a visit.

Discoveries

Hey there! You may notice some mysterious updates from the past, mostly Downton Abbey reviews, start to find their way onto my blog. I shall say only this: I was working on a class project most of the week, there are certain days when I have no creative energy, and goodness, can Blogger's posting system be slow. Pay no attention to the retroactively blogging man behind the curtain.

Anyway, in lieu of a newsy post, here are some things I have discovered in my second month of living in France:

• Carrefour baguettes should really be eaten within two days of purchase. There is only so much a healthy slathering of Nutella can do to save stale bread.
• Making sure your phone isn't dead before you go somewhere can be very helpful. It can lessen the stress of an accidental train ride, and it can help you avoid awkward conversations in terrible French with other people's landlords.
• Always buy your fruits and veggies at the Wazemmes Market.
• Spaghetti can be delicious with mixed veggies instead of sauce, especially when prepared as outlined in your vegetarian cookbook.
• Train trips to Germany are super expensive. Gah.
• On the other hand, train trips to Disneyland Paris are not.
• Putting your small suitcase in front of your door will stop Demon Cat from forcing his way into your room at six in the morning, like he did on Wednesday.
• Staying up until three in the morning to watch the new episode of Switched at Birth is a bad life decision, especially when you're only doing it because you're bored.
• It is surprising how much you can get out of a movie even if you only understand about half the dialogue.
• French movies use a lot of English-language songs.
• Mushroom pizza on a baguette is pretty much the best thing ever.
• Churchill class is awesome when you know you've made a favorable impression on the instructor.
• If you drop your pastry on the street, the 10-second rule still applies. Just pick off the dirty bits and you should be fine. I haven't died yet.
• As gross as it is to pick up after your dog when you're taking him for a walk, it is infinitely more gross to have to constantly sidestep the business of other people's dogs. Seriously, France, how hard is it to take a grocery bag with you and just take care of things then and there?
• Spending day after day in cold and cloudy weather has made me appreciate El Centro's warmth and sunshine far more than I ever expected.
• Planning a vacation with your mother is actually really exciting, though it is a lot of work.
• Skype is a lifesaver.
• Absence makes the heart grow fonder. I miss UVa so much, and trying to find a way around a six-hour time difference is much harder than I thought it would be. On the other hand, nine hours between Lille and California is not as inconvenient as I expected. Basically, though, I wish I had my friends around.
• To end on a positive note: The past two weeks have been good ones for making new friends. :)

Checking In

This will be a short post. I just wanted to mention that I have been losing myself in fiction lately, which is why my poor lonely blog has been neglected this week. Downton Abbey has briefly consumed my life; I was up until nearly four last night and the night before watching it. As you might have guessed, this means I owe you about fifteen blog posts, which will be written; I have to retroactively fill up unused days with something. There will also be a review of John Green's new novel The Fault in Our Stars, which was achingly beautiful, hilarious, and sad. I don't usually cry when I read books, but oh boy did I cry when I read this one. Also, I find it very fitting that I read it within a week of my visit to Amsterdam. Anyway, expect this blog to turn into review central soon.

The other thing I wanted to mention is that this is the time of year when I'm prone to feeling sorry for myself. I know you must be sick of hearing about it, and it is rather pathetic, but sometimes I just get so upset over being 21 and not having had a boyfriend yet. I really want to get over it already - I went to therapy about this, for heaven's sake! - and I realize writing self-pitying things like this doesn't really help. I guess I wanted to let you know that if I seem a bit down, it's because I'm rather sick of our culture's obsession with romantic love, and its tendency to label those without it as incomplete. Or maybe I'm sick of the readiness with which I buy into that notion anyway. Well, in any case, I shall be cheerful enough again soon. Just prepare yourselves for sarcastic Aida, and know that she'll hopefully be herself within a few days.

Okay, Downton Abbey! Reviews! Until later!

Art and Conversation

Lovely day today. I had gone to bed last night feeling slightly under the weather, and when I woke up I knew I wasn't great, but after a shower and a delicious breakfast of French toast, fruit salad, and tea, I was ready to face the day. Lauran took me to the American Protestant Church in The Hague this morning. The drive over was quite pretty, with the gleaming snow and old windmills off in the distance every once in a while. The service was also nice; it was traditional, and the songs were well-chosen. It was wonderful to sing, though my voice wasn't completely up to par, what with my cold and everything. Still, I haven't really sung since I arrived in Europe - I don't feel very comfortable singing around the people in my house, and there's nowhere else I can sing. Anyway, everyone was friendly, there was tea after worship (which made my throat happy, especially after the singing), and I was glad I could worship in my own language, though I realize I shouldn't stay my comfort zone all the time.

After church, Lauran and I went to the Mauritshuis, an art museum with a focus on Dutch and Flemish painters from the 17th century. Apart from the all the still life and landscapes, it is the home of Vermeer's Girl with a Pearl Earring and Rembrandt's The Anatomy Lesson of Dr. Nicolaes Tulp, among others. Once again I find myself very grateful to have worked in the art history department for the past two-and-a-half years; I've learned so much. Who knew all that cataloging would come in so useful? Also useful was the art history survey I took credit/no credit back in first year (incidentally, both famous pieces from the Mauritshuis were in my textbook), which really taught me a lot about the specific movements and their defining characteristics. I've now been to four art museums during my time in Europe, but I think this was my favorite visit so far, not least because Lauran is a great art museum companion (no rushing, we both appreciate religious art, etc.) The Mauritshuis is a small museum, so we were able to go through relatively quickly. I bought a Girl with a Pearl Earring magnet for my collection (I'm going to have an awesome refrigerator when I get back to Virginia), and then we went on our way.

Once we left The Hague, Lauran took me to meet her friend Inga and her family. They live in an authentic 18th (or maybe even 17th) century Dutch farmhouse, which is partially renovated to suit their needs, but still has an amazing amount of the original woodwork and structure (and also happens to be right next to the Rhine). We spent the rest of the afternoon with them, talking about their upcoming trip to the States, my travel misadventures, and just Dutch/European life in general. Lauran brought the leftover soup from Friday, so we had that for dinner, with some wonderful warm, flaky bread. Inga also made some chicken that smelled heavenly, but I stayed true to my vegetarianism and had a lot of shredded lettuce instead. It was a great meal. Inga and her family are very nice, and after we had all eaten, she and one of her sons performed two songs for us, she on piano and he singing. We said good-bye shortly afterward and then went to drop in on Lauran's friend Jan, who is a television producer and very well known in the Dutch Christian community for hosting the Dutch Hour of Power worship broadcast on Sundays. Both he and his house were very nice.

We drove back to Hoofddorp, where I finished my Batten application (just need my recommendations to come in) and then curled up on the sofa in one of Lauran's extra blankets to watch the news. She made tea and we chatted off and on while she worked. Just before midnight she turned on the Super Bowl, which is broadcast in the Netherlands on BBC1. As I discovered, they don't show the commercials here; instead, they cut straight from the game to the BBC Sport desk and sometimes explain tricky plays. Since the commercials are easily the most interesting part of the Super Bowl for me, I decided to turn in early(ish) - well, that, and I'm sort of rooting for the Patriots but don't really care about football, and things were not going well for them, a least at the time I excused myself. Plus, I have to catch a train at 9:30 tomorrow, and I really don't want a repeat performance of Friday.

I have had a fabulous weekend in the Netherlands, and am thinking that I'll come back in April when my mom is in Europe; Lauran wants us to be here for tulip season. I've had such a good time that I think we'll have to take her up on that. Well, back to France tomorrow!

Getting to the Netherlands (Eventually)

So remember back in December, when I went up to DC for my visa appointment, missed my train, and kind of freaked out before eventually finding my way back to Charlottesville? My parents told me then that this was a learning experience, and if it happened in Europe I would know what to do. Well, it happened it Europe, except this time I got on the wrong train, and I reacted roughly the same way. I'm not especially proud of myself right now, but I made it safely to Lauran's apartment in Hoofddorp, so I guess no harm was done in the long run.

Here is what happened: the first leg of the journey went smoothly. I got to the train station in Lille with plenty of time, I had my tickets, and I was on the train to Antwerp as soon as they announced the gate. I was actually sort of enjoying myself; one of my neighbors happened to be on the train with me, and we talked (she in French, me in English, and we understood each other) until her stop. It was snowing, which made everything really pretty outside. I started reading Sisterhood Everlasting, the new Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants book, on my iPod, and ate some madeleines. Things were nice. Then I happened to check the time and realized my train was going to be late. I already had a very short layover in Antwerp, and I started to feel quite anxious. By the time we pulling into Antwerpen Centraal, my stop, I had maybe one minute to get to my next train. This was complicated by the fact that everything was in Dutch, including the announcements on the train. I glanced at what I thought was the departures board, and saw a train listing for Amsterdam at correct time. I didn't think twice about it; I just ran for the gate, and when a Thalys train appeared, I got on it. The cars were not numbered very well, however, so I decided to ask a conductor (in French, not my brightest idea) to show me where to go. The second she saw my ticket, she told me I had gotten on the wrong train, and explained where I should get off and change. This entire conversation was in her Dutch-accented French, and I was panicking, so I didn't really understand what was going on.

Of course, my phone was nearly dead because I hadn't given it enough time to charge earlier, and I had forgotten to write Lauran's number down before I left. I ended up frantically calling my mom and asking her to get on my Facebook and find the number. I had forgotten that my Facebook is in French, which my mom doesn't speak, and I was terrified (and yes, crying) about my mistake. She had to tell me the phone number a few times over before I got it down. I finally got in touch with Lauran and explained the situation; then the same conductor came and explained the directions to me in English, which made me feel somewhat sheepish for not trying my native language in the first place. As it turns out, I had gotten on a train to Essen, Germany. In Essen, I waited on the platform for a train to Rosendal, where I could find a train to Amsterdam. Apart from having to tell myself out loud, several times, that I was going to be okay and for goodness' sake stop crying, I made it to Rosendal without a hitch and boarded a train to Amsterdam within ten minutes. Some of the passengers there spoke English, and luckily no one ever checked my ticket, so I didn't have to explain the situation to a disgruntled conductor. I successfully got on a smaller train to Schiphol airport, which is closer to Lauran's apartment, and half an hour later she picked me up and we drove back to her place in the snow. As I told my mom on Skype later, I was pretty ashamed of how things turned out, but hopefully next time (fingers crossed there won't be a next time), I'll remember to a) keep my head, and b) speak English to the conductors. Anyway, I'm here, and that's the most important thing.

Lauran's apartment is beautiful and her cat is so friendly. She was very understanding about the whole situation, and didn't mind fixing a plate and some tea for me at eleven o'clock, which is about the time we made it to her place. Everything is actually quite pretty with all the snow, and I'm looking forward to Amsterdam tomorrow. Here's hoping the next post will be much more cheerful than this one!

Just a Normal 9-8 Day

This morning I left for class at 8:45 and didn't get back to my place until just before 8 PM. While this is an improvement from lazing about at home for three days straight, it was a rather long time to be at school. (By the way, in European English "school" basically refers to high school, and "university" is college. So no, European friends, I did not go back to high school for twelve hours, haha.) My classes were good, though - a lecture on the aftermath of wars, which felt a lot like my human rights class from last spring, and my Churchill class (Sarah - I'm taking a Churchill class this semester!), which today focused on his opposition to Indian reform. Have to say, Churchill was pretty darn stubborn, and also pretty darn wrong when it came to India.

When I got home, I made a new recipe from my Vegetarian Times magazine, Mac and Cheese-Style Cauliflower (so good!), walked upstairs to find demon cat on my bed, kicked him out, and Skyped my mom. I got her to show me my copy of The Fault in Our Stars, complete with J-scribble, which made me really ridiculously happy. More importantly, there is exciting news: my mom will be coming to France to visit me in April! We're still figuring out where we want to go, but I'm so thrilled she's able to fly out here in the first place. It'll be her first time in Europe as well; I can't wait to go meet her in Paris and spend a week traveling around with her. I miss her and the rest of my family so much - it'll be wonderful to be together again.

I have another long day tomorrow, so I'll wrap this up. Bonne nuit!

Paris (Really This Time)

So, Paris. The City of Lights. I only got to spend about 22 hours there, and I really wish I had scheduled myself some more. What an amazing place! Here is what I had time to do:

• Get on the Metro
• Go to Saint-Sulpice with the intention of visiting the church
• Wander around that general area instead
• Eventually reach the Seine
• Follow it to the Eiffel Tower
• Wait in line for tickets
• Go up into the tower
• Find a metro stop in the dark (not an experience I'd like to repeat)
• Check in at a hostel
• Discover bed has been slept in
• Get clean sheets and 10 euro discount from management
• Come downstairs and realize the hostel restaurant is really weird and no one will help me even if I look lost
• Finally walk up to the bar, order a virgin colada, and discover that the kitchen is closed
• Buy some potato chips from a vending machine for my first Parisian dinner
• Go to sleep
• Wake up
• Pack up
• Eat breakfast (baguette and not-Nutella/strawberry jam)
• Walk to the metro
• Get out by the Louvre
• Walk up the Champs-Elysées to the Arc de Triomphe
• Get on the metro
• Buy a sandwich
• Wait for my train

This may seem like a lot, but since the only famous places I got to see were the Eiffel Tower, the Louvre grounds but not the museum, the Champs-Elysées, and the Arc de Triomphe, you'll understand my wanting desperately to go back sometime soon. As you may have surmised, however, I will not be returning to that hostel, except maybe to buy another colada (only good thing about that hostel, it was delicious).

I have to wonder, though, is there something about me that just screams American? Of the people that spoke to me while I was in Paris, I would say at least three-quarters of them tried English first. I realize my French is far from perfect, and I probably looked like a tourist, but I do know enough French to hold a simple conversation! On the other hand, when I was walking to the Eiffel Tower, some weird guy who looked about 40 or so came up to me and asked in French if I was German. I told him (also in French) I was in fact American, and he proceeded to ask me a bunch of odd questions, ending with an invitation to have a coffee with him. I told him I was meeting my boyfriend and high-tailed it out of there. God, I hope I haven't tempted fate by claiming nonexistent boyfriend immunity. I do want to have a boyfriend eventually. I just don't want him to be, you know, a creepy fortysomething guy on the street. Also a street vendor told me that I was très belle, which was nice, but would have been nicer had he not just aggressively tried to sell me a miniature Eiffel Tower seconds beforehand.

The Eiffel Tower was great, by the way. Not only did I get a great workout (those stairs are intense - I don't know if my legs will ever forgive me), but the view really is incredible. I always forget that I'm mildly afraid of heights until I'm actually high up, which meant I was a little frightened the entire time I was up there, but I still loved being there. The summit is super scary, though; you take this long elevator ride from the second level, and some of the walls are see-through, so I got to see the city of Paris getting smaller and smaller below me as we climbed higher and higher. I may or may not have felt slightly nauseous, especially as when I got to the landing I saw lots of people sticking their cameras between the gaps to take pictures and I was petrified that someone would drop theirs. My hands are sweating just thinking about it. I didn't want to get close to the edge because I was afraid my glasses would fall off and shatter. No way did I put my camera anywhere near those gaps.

All in all, I think it was a successful, if far too short, visit. It was beautiful, the attractions were amazing, and I'm utterly exhausted. Good night.