Enfin, une semaine pleine de miracles!

Getting ready for the Marché de Noël!!!

Georgetown group at Thanksgiving dinner!

The days until I go home are slowly getting smaller, and, while I keep hoping that the days will start to go by at warp speed so that I can go home and see my family, the other part of me wants time to slow down so I don't have to work at such a frenetic pace.  I am so surprised by my own productivity, and, while I need  to take a break every so often to have a Skype date, watch an episode of Gilmore Girls, The Office, or Gossip Girl, or go to the gym for a few hours, I have gotten SO much work done in the past four or five days!!!  The biggest thing to report, I guess, is that I have finished BOTH of my 700-page books!!!!!!!!!  Now I just have to write the 10-page paper for the second one and I'll be done (for those two classes, at least!)!!! I was so relieved to finish them that, after each one, I either went to the gym or watched an episode of Gilmore Girls online.  The exposé for Aurélien is written (I think I may go back and make absolutely sure that it is my best work- I'll explain more about that in a minute), and I made my outline for my Sans famille paper during my class on Wednesday.  I figure that my time is much better spent getting work done during class, especially since I already know what I'm writing about.  So, once I've finished that, I will be a  much happier person.  Then, I can continue studying for my exams (which I've already started studying for, but haven't been able to focus all of my energy on because of having to deal with the two books).  I think my approach for finals is a divide-and-conquer one: I'll rotate which ones I study for so I'm not cramming for one test for days straight.  All of my exams will be from the 13th to the 18th of December, so they're coming up soon-yikes!

An interesting thing happened this week in class; as I mentioned in previous posts, I wrote a paper for my History of Religion class on how religion applies to the Red Sox and their fans.  I actually really enjoyed writing the paper, and was a little upset to have been limited to 5 pages.  Anyway, in class on Monday, the professor was commenting on papers.  He came to mine and said, "Alors, mais qu'est-ce que c'est que ça?" ("Okay, what IS this?")  I quickly explained that it fell under the heading of "expressions du sacré dans le sport" (expressions of that which is religious in sports), a topic which he himself had proposed.  He laughed and explained that he had been confused, because they don't have the Red Sox in France.  No shit.  That's why I put a picture on the cover page and mentioned the word "sport" about 20 times in the first page of my paper alone.  Hopefully, he will appreciate it now that he knows what it's about...

This week is the week that everyone's Facebook statuses change to "so-and-so is going home for Thanksgiving." I definitely loved and appreciated my family before coming to France, but not being home for Thanksgiving definitely makes me appreciate them even more.  Grammy and Grampsy, who I haven't seen since May, are up at my house this week, and I wish so much that I was there with them.  And I have been pleasantly surprised by the amount of contact I've had with Tim over the past week.  We talked a week ago, after he had finished his last set of Suffield exams (congratulations, bud, if you're reading this, which you're probably not!).  We went over the previous night's episode of The Office, which we sort of got each other hooked on over the summer.  As usual, he left me in stitches with his impersonations of Dwight and Michael.  We may tease him that he can't tell a story to save his life, but my God, that boy can recite lines from any movie!  And he does pretty good impersonations too!  And then, a couple of nights ago, he emailed me to tell me to buy "Prospekt's March," Coldplay's new bonus album that came out earlier this week. I'm pretty sure he wouldn't do it himself because he has reached the mom-imposed iTunes limit for the month.  I guess that's what big sisters are for.  Oh how I miss my little brother.

So, a minorly amusing thing that happened yesterday (but which was sort of a big deal for me) was that I evaded the tram police, not once, but TWICE.  I'm sure I've mentioned Strasbourg's tram system, and it is especially useful when it gets cold, particularly when I want to get to the gym (which is a 45-minute walk from my house).  I'm usually sort of pressed for time when I go to the gym, so I need to get there and back as quickly as possible.  Anyway, you have to pay to use the tram.  The monthly passes are ridiculously expensive (I think they're about 22 or 23 euros), and an individual one-way ticket is 1€40.  That's pretty exorbitant.  So basically, I've been being a punk kid and have been riding the tram for free ever since I've been here (as have all of the other Georgetown girls).  It was really easy to pull of when the weather was nice, because there was never anyone checking tickets, but now that the weather has gotten cold and more people are riding the tram, the tram police have really stepped up their action.  Jinah got nailed a couple of weeks ago, and you have to pay 26€ on the spot.  If you don't have 26€ on you, you have to pay much more later.  Ever since that happened, I've been watching people at the tram stations and people in the tram like a hawk.  I joked to my mom that I've become such a skilled observer that I could be in the Secret Service :)  So anyway, yesterday I was riding the tram back from the gym, and as we pulled into the République stop, which is 4 stops away from my house, I saw a group of 4 people in identical black and gray coats with machines sticking out of their pockets.  'Those must be the tram police,' I thought to myself, so I quickly got off lest I be nailed and have to pay the fine.  I walked to the next station and caught the next tram, feeling very pleased with myself.  Then, three stations later, at Observatoire, the station before mine, I guess they got off the first train I had been on and planned to get on the second train I was on.  Crafty little devils.  So I got off again and walked the rest of the way home.  Now you may be asking yourself why I don't just pay for a pass and not have to worry about it.  First of all, the pass is a ripoff, and why would I do that when I can ride for free?  It's sort of becoming like a game: how long can I evade the tram police before getting caught?  Let me just say that it pays to be observant!

By far the most exciting thing this week happened on Wednesday.  Wait...Wednesday???  Yes, Wednesdays are usually my most hellish of days, but this Wednesday, the miracle that I mentioned in the title happened.  As I pointed out in a previous post, as of Wednesday, I was scheduled for 3 exams on December 13th, all of which are 4-hour finals.  Now, not only did I not want to take 3 exams in one day, but it is also physically impossible.  They're bound to overlap...right?  Yes.  Two of my classes, including my Aurélien class, overlapped.  So Susan called the secrétariat, sort of the equivalent of the registrar's office, on Wednesday morning to tell them about my situation.  So I went in to the secrétariat after one of my classes on Wednesday.  When I walked in and explained my situation, the two women in the office said, "Oh, YOU.  We heard about you."  They told me to talk to Mme. Grenouillet, who I considered to be the most evil of professors that I have ever come in to contact with.  She's the one who I'm convinced has hated me since the first day of class.  So at the end of my Aurélien class, I went up to Mme. Grenouillet, clutching my letter from Susan, absolutely dreading having to explain my situation.  When I had explained it, she said, "Yes, someone from the secrétariat talked to me.  I'll tell you what: you're doing an exposé, right?"  When I answered that I was, she said, "Okay, so if you get a good grade on your exposé, we'll just count that as your final grade, and if you don't get a good grade, you can do an oral exam."  I thought I hadn't heard her right.  I thanked her profusely, and felt like breaking into song and dance the entire way home!  I have a feeling that she was just to lazy to come up with another topic for me and another time for me to take the exam, but whatever the reason, I was thinking, "BLESS YOU, Mme. Grenouillet!."  So now I just have 2 exams on the 13th, and, while I'll be taking exams from 8 in the morning to 5:30 at night with only an hour-and-a-half in between tests, I'll take it!  It's better than nothing!  So that's why I want to go back and make sure that this is the best exposé I have ever written...

Tomorrow night, we're going to be cooking our own Thanksgiving dinner at Jill's house with the Thanksgiving supplies that my mom sent us.  Also, tomorrow the Christmas market starts!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  I can't WAIT!!!!!!!!!

Sending you my love on this holiday weekend!

Kristen

Ce dont je remercie...

Well, it's Turkey Day, a true celebration of what Americans do best...that would be eating and watching football.  In France, Thanksgiving is just like any other day, because Americans really ARE the only ones who celebrate it.  So I had class this morning from 9-11:30 (it was pretty rough getting up for that one, since there is less and less light when I get up in the morning), then stopped in at Café Brant for some hot chocolate and a chance to do a little bit of fiction writing, and went to the gym.  Today was the first day since I've been here that I didn't actually want to go to the gym, but I'm really glad I forced myself to go, because I had a pretty good workout.  And I only have two weeks' worth of workouts left, since the final week will be exam/hell week (plus, payment is due on the 15th of every month, which falls right smack dab in the middle of exam week), so I figure that I may as well get in all of workouts that I can now.  

Tonight, the entire Georgetown group (minus Meghan, who went home to London for Thanksgiving), our host families, and even an actual family (Meg's parents and grandma came over from Virginia) got together at a really nice restaurant downtown and had a really good Thanksgiving dinner, courtesy of Georgetown (there are actually perks to paying them as much as we do to go abroad, because they give certain things back to us! Like paying for trips and nice dinners like these!).  It was really nice to get the whole group together, and we even got served actual Thanksgiving food (obviously not prepared exactly as it would be in the US, but a valiant effort nonetheless).  If we couldn't be at home for Thanksgiving with our own families, it was nice to be able to spend it with our study abroad families.  And when I got home after walking off my dinner, my host mom came into my room and gave me a gift, saying that she had thought that Thanksgiving was like Christmas and that you were supposed to get presents for people.  She got me a cookbook of Alsatian cakes/pastries, because she knows I'm a baking fiend, and I can't wait to try out some of the recipes!!! So basically, I love my host mom, she is absolutely amazing!  And while I really miss my own family, living with her has been really wonderful- I don't know how I would have survived if I lived in one of the student apartments.  I like the structure of living with a family, and someone to talk about your day with over dinner.  So I am so thankful to have had this wonderful Thanksgiving dinner with my study abroad family.

Some other things I am thankful for:

- Obviously, my real family.  I got a chance to Skype with them (even Grammy and, most shockingly,  Grampsy!!!!!!!!), and the power of the Internet makes me feel as though I'm NOT thousands of miles away.  I feel so lucky that they've made the sacrifices they've made for me so that I can have this unforgettable study abroad experience, and, while I miss them so much, I wouldn't trade these experiences and adventures for anything.  And I just have to add that Skyping with my grandparents was pretty much the funniest experience of my life... they don't have a computer at their house, so this was their first shot at Skype.  I talked to Grampsy only briefly, but the fact that he even got anywhere close to the computer to talk to me made me feel pretty darn special.  And Grammy, well, if you know my Grammy, she is an absolute peach, and a complete riot.  I love seeing her in person, because I know how to push her buttons.  Whenever she'll laugh at something, I'll start laughing at it too, because I know that it will send her into a fit of laughter so extreme that she starts to wheeze.  She has picked up on the fact that I just do this to make her laugh, but I still do it anyway.  So anyway, when I Skyped with her last night, neither of our webcams were working, so she was saying to my mom, "Nancy, how does this work?  Why can't I see her?"  All the while, I could hear my mom telling her that she didn't have the headphones on right.  Grammy is also very fascinated by the simple pleasures of technology, which is an absolute hoot.  For example, she told me that yesterday, my mom taught her how to copy and paste, so that she can send only the parts of her chain emails that she wants to send, not all of the extra information that makes them ten million miles long.  I just had to chuckle.  So yes, I am oh so grateful for my family.

*My mom: She has really tried very hard to accept the fact that I am an emotional person, which she has been doing pretty well with.  Also, she sends me things :)

* My dad: He is the only one in my immediate family who truly understands what I'm missing at Georgetown, because he's been at Georgetown.  But something he told me is that Georgetown truly is home, so when I get back, it will be waiting with open arms for me.  

* Tim: I don't get to talk to him that often, and when I do, I often get grunts and monosyllabic answers (oh, seventeen year-old boys!), but every so often, we'll have a really good conversation.  That's when I realize how much I miss him.  I'll also be walking down the street and will see something that I know would make him laugh or say, "I hate the French."  It bothers me how ignorant he is about the French, but it's also kind of funny sometimes!  I'm crossing my fingers big time that he gets into Georgetown...

*Grammy and Grampsy: Even if I only get to see them once every few months, I know that they are only a phone call away when I'm at home or at school.  I think my relationships with both of them have gotten better over time, to the point where, right now, I can't imagine my life without them.

*Uncle Kevin/Bonche/King of the Yeti: He sent me a webcam, for which I am eternally grateful.  And every time I talk to him, he always messes with me, which I love (usually it's about Georgetown basketball or the Red Sox)

*The Crockett and Tignor families: I got an e-card from Aunt Susan and Uncle Tom yesterday for Thanksgiving, and I'm not going to lie, I was really happy to get it.  They all seem so interested in hearing what's going on over here.  And of course I miss my cousins, especially Amy and Michael (the latter of whom is in Patagonia right now!!!)

*The Bonanno clan: I secretly look forward to big family parties at the Kingham-Bez house, now that the family is expanding and a lot of my cousins are having kids.  It makes me so happy that, even though PopPop and Ma are no longer with us, we can still all get together and genuinely enjoy each other's company.  I can't wait to see all of them over Christmas!  I think a lot of my ideas about what I want my future family to be like come from spending so many holidays with my dad's family: lots of kids who all reconvene over holidays and just pick up where they left off.  And you couldn't ask for a more loving bunch!

- My friends.  Being abroad has only made me realize more what incredible friends I have.  Whether it's just checking in via Skype, sending me Boston-themed postcards (Alexandra), letters (Molly), Georgetown basketball paraphernalia (Allie), just sending me a quick email or a Facebook message to let me know that they're thinking about me (Lauren), filling me in on basketball games (Liz, Maggie, and AMC), reminding me of how awesome this summer was (Josh, Chris, and Kristin), fighting with me over the Red Sox and Yankees (GO SOX!) (Kevin),  or grabbing an extra Georgetown basketball t-shirt for me at their Italian Thanksgiving dinner (Kate!), they constantly remind me how much they care about me, and I love them all for that.  I can't wait to be reunited with all of them, whether it be over Christmas break or next fall at Georgetown.  I also feel really fortunate for the friends I've made in Strasbourg, the girls from the Georgetown program and also the amazing Holy Cross girls that I've become pretty good friends with.

- Good health.  I feel incredibly fortunate because, knock on wood, everyone in my family and among my friends is currently in good health.  I know that that is not something to be taken for granted, and it is one of the things I give the most thanks for.

- My experience in France.  Yes, really.  I know that I have been complaining a lot lately about France, but this is almost exclusively in conjunction with school.  I still love this country, (most of) its people, and Strasbourg's location is optimal for traveling, which I feel so lucky to have been able to do.  Because, as I have said to so many people, what you learn in the classroom is fine, but traveling is really where you get your most interesting experiences and the memories that leave the greatest impact on you.  I feel so lucky that I am able to spend a year in Europe, when there are so many others who can only dream of doing the same thing.  

- The fact that I'm going home very soon (24 days from today, since it's 12:15 in the morning already!).  I can't wait to be in my own house, sleep in my own bed, and, of course, see my family.  I know that this holiday season will be a time of unparalleled excitement, and I can't wait to see how it unfolds.  Among my friends who are staying abroad for a year,  very few of them are going home for Christmas, so, although at times I wish the Ireland trip had worked out, I can't wait to be home.

- My host mom.  I know it can't be easy opening your home to a virtual stranger for a semester, but my host mom has been incredible.  She cooks me amazing vegetarian food, and I have really felt like we've learned a little bit more about each other and have interesting conversation every day.  For instance, last night she was asking me about the American presidents, because she didn't know: who the first and second American presidents were, what number president Lincoln was, and what number Obama was (in case you were wondering, I answered all three questions correctly: Washington, Adams, 16, 44).  She was so interested that she asked me to send her a list of the American presidents.  And I recently learned that English was the first foreign language she learned.  She is originally from Brazil, and moved here years ago, and I guess I just assumed that she only spoke Portuguese and French, but apparently she speaks at least a little bit of English too.  It's really fun to learn more about each other as time goes on. 

- The Internet.  You think I'm kidding?  Skype has been an absolute lifesaver this semester- I honestly don't know what I would have done without it.  It really makes the world seem a lot smaller when you can talk to someone who is halfway across the world, and it has really helped me to stay in touch with family and friends, so I am grateful for the amazing Internet connection in my host mom's apartment.

- The fact that Barack Obama will be my president, and also the fact that Sarah Palin is nowhere near the White House (at least for the time being)

- Café Brant.  Enough said.

- Free Fitness.  Even though the really bitchy lady works there and makes me pay for a lock for my bag.  I don't know what I would do without my gym.

-Surfthechannel: Having the ability to watch TV episodes online has saved my life, because you can only work for so long before you need a study break!

I am dead tired and can't write any more right now.  But I'll fill you in on what else has been going on (lots of exciting developments!) soon, hopefully tomorrow.  But in the meantime, I wish you all a very HAPPY THANKSGIVING, and, as always, I'm sending you my love!

Kristen

IL NEIGE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

The cute little French family :) 

Snowy- and windy!  

These people are incredibly smart- they lure potential customers like me with lots of sparkly Christmasy things!

BNU and snowmen someone made

This weekend, breaking from the trend of misery of the past week, was absolutely AMAZING.  It was mainly so amazing because it snowed!  Twice!!!  Now, you all know how much I adore snow- you would think that, having lived in New England for all of my life, I would be sick of the fluffy white stuff, but not so!!!!  When it snows, I am probably about as excited as someone who has never seen snow before.  So the fact that it was snowing on Saturday morning made me get dressed and ready in record time and practically run out of the apartment building.  (Side note: after almost a month of not working, the even-numbered elevator is FINALLY fixed!)  It was snowing pretty hard when I left, and I huddled under the overhang at the tram stop at the end of my street.  Luckily I didn't have to wait too long for a tram, and I took it until Place Broglie, because I knew I wanted to get pictures at the Cathédrale.  I was not let down, because after a brief stoppage, the snow started back up again in full force- it was snowing really hard!  It was sort of funny, because EVERYONE had an umbrella to fight off the killer snowflakes- I guess they've never lived in New England, and, thus, have not learned that a few snowflakes never killed anyone!  Wimps!

After walking around for a little bit and being caught in the heaviest of the snow, I made my way back toward Place de la République and got some really cute pictures- of a cute little French family out for a walk, and of some adorable little snowmen (see above).  From there, I headed over to Café Brant, my favorite café in Strasbourg, where I was supposed to meet Jinah to do work.  I ordered a cup of tea to warm up (2.50 €, a.k.a. total rip-off) and started working.  I am almost finished with the second of my 700-page books, so I'm starting to see the light at the end of the tunnel, despite the fact that I still have a lot to do.  

On Sunday, I planned to go to the Gregorian Chant mass at the Cathédrale, because I've never been to one and thought that it might be cool.  However, my plan was foiled because yesterday happened to be the anniversary of the liberation of Strasbourg (from the big mean Germans, who else?), so instead of singing at the 9:30 mass, as they typically do, the Gregorian chant group sang at 11:00 mass. Oh well.  After church, I wandered over to the gym, followed (after a shower) by yet another trip to Café Brant for hot chocolate and more studying with Jinah.  Apparently, it's the place to be on Sunday nights- oh wait, maybe because it's pretty much the only place that's OPEN!!!  On my way home, it started to snow again (!!!!!!!!!!), only this time, it was downright freezing!  And windy too.  It literally did go from a pretty moderate climate on Friday to absolutely freezing overnight, because it really started to get chilly after the first snowstorm.  So, contrary to my previous plan of sending my Uggs home, I will be keeping them.  However, for packing purposes, I think I need to send my heavy sweaters home.  Layering will have to be the name of the game, I guess...

So now, there are really only 3 more days, until Thanksgiving, until it's appropriate to get really excited for Christmas.  Of course, I've been listening to Christmas music for over a week (I'm listening to the master, Bing Crosby, right now- he is my unrivaled favorite for favorite Christmas musician), but the fact that it's almost Thanksgiving is really exciting.  When I was Skyping with tout le monde this weekend (that's the other part that made this weekend so great!), everyone asked me how I was celebrating the holiday in France, and I told them that the whole Georgetown group and our host families are going out to a restaurant on Thursday night, and then, I think on Saturday night, some friends and I will be cooking an ACTUAL Thanksgiving dinner (minus the turkey, since one of the other girls besides me is a vegetarian), because my mom sent me stuffing mix, pumpkin pie mix, and, most importantly, cranberry sauce.  Yum!  I can't wait.  And ALSO...the Christmas Market starts this coming weekend, and I am pretty much giddy with excitement!!! I LOVE CHRISTMAS!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I hope all is well with all of you!  If I don't get a chance to talk to you in person, I hope you have a very happy Thanksgiving with your families, whether it be your actual family, your host family, or a group of good friends.  Hopefully, I will see many of you very soon!

Sending you my love,

Kristen

Les chose s'améliorent...?

After my last post, I really didn't think life could get any worse, so as I predicted, it got a little bit better.  I suppose the most notable development was that I FINALLY finished Aurélien, and am now about 4 pages in to my exposé (I would like to get it to 6 pages).  So I'm hoping that I can knock those out today.  Next, I have to start back up on Sans famille, which I have sort of neglected this past week in the name of getting Aurélien finished.  I'm giving myself until next Friday to finish the remaining 350 pages of Sans famille, which is definitely doable, because, since it's childhood literature, it's a significantly easier read than, say, Aurélien.  Once I finish that, I'll start working on my paper for Sans famille that needs to be 10 pages.  In conjunction with that, I'm going to start studying for finals.  

As of tomorrow, I will have 1 MONTH left until home!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  That's a pretty significant benchmark!  And after Thanksgiving weekend, I will have exactly 3 weeks until I'm home.  So even though I tend to get caught up in the immediate despair of the situation, I'm trying to give myself little things to look forward to.  And the way I've planned out my finals study days, I'm trying not to do 2 consecutive days of studying for a single exam, because I have 6 to study for, so I really have to equally distribute my time.  And once I can finally get the letters and give them to my teachers, I'll hopefully know for sure when my finals are and exactly what I need to do for them.  

A weekend of Skype is definitely keeping my mood up as well; I know that I feel better when I can have contact with the world of home.  I feel awful that I've pretty much had to be a social recluse here in the name of getting my boatloads of work done, but I would rather not fail 6 finals.  Because then, Georgetown would not give me credit for all of the hard work I've done.  In any case, if I find that I'm being really productive, I think some friends and I might try to go to Colmar tomorrow.  We'll see.  If it looks like they don't want to go, I'm not going to, because, as much as I have said that I sort of like traveling by myself in terms of being able to dictate my own schedule, it was pretty lonely going to Luxembourg by myself last weekend.  The only reason I went by myself was that my friends backed out at the last minute, and I had already paid 30 euro for my ticket, so in lieu of wasting that money, I just went.  We'll see, hopefully Colmar will happen.

According to my host mom, the Christmas market here in the 'bourg starts next week, and let me tell you that I can't WAIT!!! That will definitely be a good study break (since my study breaks now consist of going to the gym), and I've heard that they really know how to do Christmas here, so I can't wait to experience a little bit of Christmas in Alsace. 

I feel like I should mention a couple of interesting things that have happened here within the past week: the first was that, when I came back from Luxembourg last Saturday, there was a not affixed to the one working elevator in the building (my elevator, the one that goes to the even-numbered floors, has been out since I got back from Toussaint; I don't know what the problem is, but they're taking their pretty time fixing it) saying that a college-age girl who lives in the building was having a birthday party.  The way she worded it was almost apologetic, saying things like "I hope it's not an inconvenience to anyone," "we'll try to keep the noise level down", and "the party will be finished by 1am."  Wow.  In France, the party culture is definitely different.  In Georgetown, the best parties are house parties, but in France, especially when you're living in an apartment building, that is very frowned upon.  Hence the note.  There is no chance- not in a million years- of such a note ever surfacing in the US.

When I  was in my Aurélien class, one of my classmates was giving a presentation on the epilogue, and at the end, he said "et donc, il n'y a pas de happy end."  It's really strange to see the English phrases that the French choose to use.  And I guess it's not just a lightly-used term, because my professor also used it.  And it's not pronounced the way we pronounce it, the h is dropped and the "a" is made to sound more like an "e" making it sound more like "aeppy end."  It was quite funny, really.

Then, in my Religions et sociétés class yesterday, my professor made sure to make us all aware that there was a grève, a strike.  I believe that this one was a strike of the teachers union, protesting God knows what.  But she made perfectly clear that she was not in the union, but had great respect for a lot of the demands they were making. However, despite this respect, she could not show solidarity with them because there was so little time left in the semester and she thought it would be in our best interests for her to teach the class.  Oh France.

I hope you're all a little less terrified after reading this post than you were with the last one.  As I've told a lot of people, I'm trying to take it one day at a time, but as you can see from these posts, it really does go up and down from day to day.  I'm trying desperately to stay hydrated, because I think I'm in the early stages of a cold, but hopefully it will be tame compared to the last one.  I miss you all, and am sending you my love.

Kristen 

Sérieusement?

If you had asked me last week if, despite all of the difficulties that this semester has presented, being in France this semester has been worth it, I would have replied that, absolutely, it has been very much worth it.  Oh, how quickly the tides change.  This week, I'm not so sure.  It seems like I am becoming more and more miserable every day, and, while I obviously don't like feeling this depressed, and my point is not to make people feel sorry for me, it feels like, whenever I feel like I'm starting to rally, someone up there  chuckles and says, "Not so fast."  So I get knocked back down, harder, and it seems like I sink down lower and lower with each subsequent blow.  I don't want to know what rock bottom looks like, but I can't help but wonder if I'm getting close to it.  Luckily though, if you hit rock bottom, the only way you can go is up (not that I aspire to hit rock bottom or anything). 

As I mentioned, Monday was a really rough day.  In my last post, I came at it from the angle of being upset about missing basketball.  Yes, I was very upset to miss my beloved Hoyas' first game, but I think that that was just a precipitating factor in Monday's meltdown.  I think that there were a few more deep-seeded reasons fro the meltdown, the most significant of those being my ridiculous level of academic stress.   I have been incredibly stressed out about classes for about the past month or so, but this week, in particular, the proverbial shit has really hit the fan.  On Monday, I found out that I have 3 final exams scheduled for the same day, the 13th of December, which I think would be an impossible feat, even for a native French student.  There is no possible way that I can take 3 exams in one day, especially since, in all probability, 2 of those exams will each be 4 hours long.  After literally falling apart when I arrived home from class, throwing my stuff onto my bed and immediately breaking into tears, I felt the worst I have felt since I've been here.  

After dinner (which I don't know how I made it through), I logged in to Skype, and, seeing that Lauren was online I gave her a call.  I felt awful unloading everything onto her when I called her sobbing, especially since I know that this is a particularly busy week for her.  But she insisted that she wanted to talk, and even called me back later after she had to sign off and go to class.  I talked to my mom also (we had to discuss plane tickets for Spain), and we had an incredibly unpleasant conversation.  First of all, there had been a lot of miscommunication about  the tickets.  Second of all, she had had a terrible day too: Tim was home sick with the stomach flu, and my mom had had to work all day.  Obviously, I cried- I mean, come on, it's me, I couldn't help it- and she snapped.  It was awful.  

After I finished that awful conversation, I sent my program director, Susan, an email, telling her that I was having an academic crisis and asking if I could come in to see her.  So I stopped by her office yesterday (after having burned off some steam at the gym that morning- I've found that the more stressed out I've gotten, the longer my workouts have gotten; I think I'm trying to delay getting back to reality).  When I explained my hellish December 13th to her, her jaw dropped, and she insisted that she had never had this happen before.  Of course.  Why would anyone else have had this problem?  So she said that she would write letters to my professors (which she should have done at least a month-and-a-half ago) explaining my finals situation and asking if other arrangements could be made (i.e. substituting a paper for those exams).  That made me feel better.  She told me to stop by her office this morning before my first class to pick up the letters, assuring me that,  although she would be teaching a class, the secretary would be in the office.  'Perfect,' I thought,  thinking that I could talk to those professors today after class, with the letters from Susan (a.k.a. something official) to back me up.  

Now, I ask you, why on earth would it be that easy?!?  I went to Susan's office at the agreed-upon time, and no one was there.  And the door was locked, so I couldn't go into her office and grab the letters off of her desk, where I knew they were waiting for me.  I left to go to class after waiting for 20 minutes or so, feeling, quite frankly, really pissed off.  Anyway, I decided to talk to my first professor without the letter, since she seems really nice and has been very accommodating to me in the past as far as work is concerned.  Mistake.  She told me to go to the sécrétariat to see if I could get a make-up question, essentially washing her hands of it.  I went back to the IEP before my next class to try again to get the letters, but again, no one was there.  But before I went to the IEP, I went home and checked my email, and saw that Susan had sent me one, saying, "Did you stop by to try to pick up the letters?  Because they're still stiting on my desk," as if it was my fault.  I explained the situation to her, and her response was, "How frustrating." No shit.  I was furious.

This was when the real sobbing started up again.  How am I supposed to feel when I go to someone for help, and they can't follow through?   I was assured that someone would be there when I walked completely out of my way to get these letters, and they were not...twice.  So now I can't talk until my other professors until next week, which means more time for me to stress out.  I understand that Susan is very busy, and she has been amazing and an absolute God-send up until this point, but like I said, this should have been done weeks ago.  

So here's what I have left to do this semester, in the 33 days before I get home: I have to finish two 700-page books (in French); I have about 50 pages left of Aurélien, the surrealist monster that I have whined about on many occasions, and about 350 pages left of Sans famille, my book for my childhood literature class.  Next, I have to do a literary analysis of a difficult chapter of Aurélien, which I am working on right now, and a 10-page paper on Sans famille (that paper is a final for that class, thank God).  So when my friends from back in the States complain about how much work they have, I have very little sympathy.  I know, it sounds horrible and unlike me, and I don't like feeling that way, but I can't help it.  And God knows, I've complained about how much work I've had before at Georgetown, but this is taking a lot out of me.  And again, I'm not trying to get sympathy from people, but I WILL say that there is a big difference between the French education system and the education system in the States.  In the U.S., when you get behind on your work, it's usually your fault, because you get a syllabus the first day of class, telling you exactly what you need to read, what major assignments you have due, and when the final is, so if you get behind in reading, it's your fault (even though, sometimes, there is just too little time to get everything done).  In France, on the other hand, if you don't know what the hell you're doing, it's not your fault, it's the professors not being clear about what they expect from you, when assignments are due, and when the exam is (and, in some cases, just being downright mean).  I was actually just talking to one of my neighbors, Marie-Hélène (she just started talking to me in English, so I went with it), who speaks very good English (a rarity in Strasbourg), and when I told her about the work situation, she just rolled her eyes and said that Marc Bloch is known for having terrible organization.  To hear that from a native made me feel so much better!

The one positive thing that I took out of my meeting with Susan was the reassurance that, around this point in the semester, around Thanksgiving, everyone starts getting homesick.  And I know that other American friends of mine in Strasbourg, both from Georgetown and from Holy Cross, just want this semester to be over.  I'm so happy I'm not spending the entire year here, or else I would be needing to find a therapist (not that I would even have time for appointments).  I miss Dr. Hennessy :(

So why do I keep posting these negative rants?  Because I don't want to sugarcoat anything; I would be lying if I told you that everything was perfect.  Study abroad is not consistently an amazing experience.  It's not.   So yes, when all is said and done, I know I will be so happy to have had this experience, but life is just not so fun right now.  From what I hear, though, Salamanca will in no way rival Strasbourg academically, so I hope the stress level goes way down.  Plus, having Molly and Mary Katherine there will make a world of difference.  But I just know that I miss all of you so much!  The thought of seeing all of you soon is what is getting me through this hellish experience.  Life just isn't the same without you!

As always, I'm sending you my love,

Kristen

Le basket :(

Outside of Verizon- my second home!

Front row loves: me, Maggie, Liz and Ann

I'm in the front row, third from right

Today is, in my life, an incredibly sad day, because my beloved Georgetown Hoyas are tipping off for the first time of the 2008-2009 season against Jacksonville tonight.  And I won't be there.  I've dreaded this day since March 23rd, the day where, with tears rolling down my blue and gray-painted face, I left the RBC Center in Raleigh, North Carolina, knowing that it would not only be the last time I would see our exceptional class of seniors (Jonathan Wallace, Roy Hibbert, Patrick Ewing Jr. and Tyler Crawford) play, but it would also be my last time at a Georgetown basketball game until senior year.  For those of you who know me well, once basketball season rolls around, you know better than to ask me if I have plans on the day of a game, and you can't count on me to stay up late the night before, because I have to get some sleep so I can get up early to head over to Verizon.  

It probably won't surprise you that I've already cried about this today.  When I woke up, I watched all of the YouTube videos I could find, and as we speak, I am listening to my Hoya Hoops playlist.  And I am proudly wearing blue and gray today, along with the rally beads that Allie sent me.  

I knew, when I applied to go abroad, that this would be a problem.  The prospect of missing an entire basketball season was a major factor in my decision, and, other than missing friends, family, and everything going on at Georgetown, it was one of my biggest reasons in the "con" column for going abroad.  And I know that I will look back on this experience at the end of the year and know that it has been totally worthwhile and has enabled me to grow so much as a person, but that doesn't mean it can't hurt when I think about all of the people I'm going to miss, all of my basketball friends.  I won't be able to sit outside Verizon for 4 hours before the door opens with Maggie, Liz, Ann, AMC, Andrew, Reba, and all of my other front-of-the-line friends.  We won't be able to give the other people behind us dirty looks as we wonder if they're going for our seats,  and then either try to box them out if they are, indeed, going for our seats, or make friends with them if we find out that they're going for non-pep band side.  This is no light matter.  There is an incredible amount of strategy.  

For example, we always have one designated bag holder.  This person has the incredibly important task of blocking out people behind them so as to give the designated runner (that was me the second half of last year- I'm proud to say that I was undefeated!) a little bit more time.  We always try to spread people out among doors so as to give ourselves an optimal chance, and we have unspoken agreements with the other front row pep band side regulars to grab us a couple of extra seats if it doesn't look like we're going to make it.  Pushing is encouraged, and deception is not at all frowned upon.  

Take the first game of last year, for example, against William & Mary, back in the days of cattle herding: the Verizon Center personnel would let us into the building, saying that they were doing us a favor by getting us out of the cold, and would then corral us a few hundred feet from the entrance to our section.  Let me just say that whoever came up with that idea deserves to be fired.  Anyway, we were in good position, at the front of the line, but next to us, we could see some freshmen trying to creep up.  We could hear them saying to each other, "Okay, section 117-118, you go first."  Now, the entrance to the student section is section 116-117; 117-118 gets you trapped in a corner.  So I whispered to Maggie that I was going to go to 117-118 so these girls would think they were going the right way, and she would go to the other section.  We're so evil.  So the freshmen got second row, and we got our seats.  That's right. Our seats.  We had them for every single home game of last season (including the one game all of us missed, because no one sat in our seats.  I think they knew).

Running for seats is the most incredible adrenaline rush ever.  When we're still outside, I have to shed all of my layers, because they'll just slow me down (especially since security now makes you open up your jacket).  I start shaking, not because I'm cold (which a few friends have thought and thus wrap their jackets around me), but because I am nervous.  What if I don't get the seats?  What if I trip? What if I can't run fast enough?  What if we end up in the second row? I grab my ticket and my GOCard, and, once the ticket checker scans my ticket, I run as fast as I possibly can to section 116-117.  I sprint by the next level of security, flashing my ticket and GOCard at the checker (but barely slow down), and then go as fast as I can down the stairs that are uncomfortably close together, not exactly optimal for going down quickly.  When I get down to the first row, I lay across the first four seats from the left of the first row, and once Maggie, Liz, and Ann hurl themselves down the stairs, we marvel at our handiwork.  And still, there's an hour until game time.  I try to get my heart rate back down, because, simply put, running for seats is the most incredible adrenaline rush I've ever experienced, and the satisfaction when you get your seats is amazing.  

We typically spend the first 20 minutes or so warming up (especially if it's a January or February game).  Then, I go up to the bathroom and put in my contacts (and take off my spandex, if it's cold enough to warrant wearing it under my jeans).  I do my hair, in the same style every game, pulled back into a half ponytail with the same barrette.  It doesn't take a genius to see that I am a very superstitious fan.  If you've ever watched a Red Sox game with me, I'm the same way.  For example, my mom has a certain talent for jinxing the Sox when she says things like, "Oh, I feel bad for the Rays" (back when they were bad).  So I forbid her from talking during games, and if she starts to say something that sounds like it will be jinx-worthy, I shut her up.  

With about a half-hour to go until game time, the team comes out to warm up for the first time.  This is when the crowd starts to get animated.  By this point, we have our face paint done, which is really an art form.  So I start snapping pictures- I mean, come on, this is me we're talking about!!!  With 15 minutes or so to go, the team goes back into the locker room, only to reemerge 10 minutes later with a new set of warmups and looks of determination.  The first warmup can be lighthearted and fun, but not the second.  With a minute or so to go, they all run  over to the bench.   This is when the pregame video starts, which, in the case of last year's video, is incredibly well-done.  This always ends with a "We are Georgetown," with pep band side chanting "WE ARE" and non-pep band side answering "GEORGETOWN," pumping our fists in the air.  When warmup time expires, the announcer reads off the starting lineup for the visiting team.  The entire student section turns around so that our backs are facing the court, and drown out the visiting team's lineup as we chant, "Let's go Hoyas!".  

We know it's time to turn around when the lights go out and search lights rotate around the stadium.  Then it's our turn, and we make the most amount of noise possible for our beloved Hoyas.  After the lineup is read, the lights go back on and Zombie Nation comes on, so if you look across the court, you can see a sea of gray shirts bobbing up and down.  This is what it means to be a Hoya.  We truly embody the mantra of bleeding Hoya blue.  We are the ones who stand outside the arena, in rain, snow, wind, and cold, forgetting all other responsibilities (because doing homework in line is impossible unless you have concentration of steel) in the name of basketball.  We work harder than most college students, but this time is just for us, for enjoying being a Hoya.  For two hours (well, it works out to more like 7 or 8, when you factor in travel time and time spent outside of Verizon), we put all of our energy into cheering on our beloved team, and sometimes I just have to stop for a moment and take it in, appreciating feeling like a part of this tight-knit community, the Georgetown basketball faithful.  It's hard to describe to someone who has never been a part of it, but something about being a part of something bigger than yourself is intoxicating.  Never have I felt more proud to be a Hoya than when I am in my seat, pep band side, first row, second seat from the left.

So you see, this is what I'm missing this year.  Call me crazy, but I know I'll come back senior year and be even more motivated!

I don't really feel like writing about Luxembourg and all of my ridiculous work today, but once I have recovered from my misery at not being at the game, I'll get around to it.

Until then, I BLEED HOYA BLUE!  HOYA SAXA!!!!  And I'm sending you my love,

Kristen

La vie florentine

An ellaella picture- we couldn't resist!!!

Straight hair, before the rain blew it up (and washed away our shoes)  :(

Ponte Vecchio in the background

Florence by night

I am sitting in my room on a very lazy Sunday, munching on some clementines, which I'm now convinced are God's gift to me (they don't even have seeds here!!!).  I decided to take a quick break from work, which I've been doing pretty steadily all weekend.  My first order of business was to knock out a 4 to 5-page paper for my History of Religion class.  One of the topics he proposed was the role of religion in sports.  I don't think my stream-of-consciousness should be hard to follow.  "Sports.  I like sports.  Religion. Religion in sports. Red Sox. Red Sox. RED SOX!!! Religion and the Red Sox!".  That was pretty much my thought process, which took place over the span of about 5 seconds.  I can honestly say that I don't think I have ever been more excited to write a paper, despite the fact that it had to be in French.  That only added an extra challenge, and plus, I wanted to bring a knowledge of the greatest sports team ever (Kevin Windels, if you are reading this, do not even BOTHER trying to argue with that statement ;)  !!!!!) to the sports-deficient French people.  And really, I could write a several hundred-page book on the topic, so the hardest part was really deciding the extent to which I wanted to describe it.  Aside from that, the biggest challenge was trying to translate sports terminology to French, so I didn't even bother going into anything technical like hits, pitches, runs, RBIs, etc. because I knew that there would not be a direct translation.

But anyway, that is finished now (and isn't even due until the 22nd!), so it felt really nice to check that off the list.  Now, I'm working on a literary analysis of a chapter of that bear of a book that I have mentioned so often before, Aurélien, which I actually like (aside from the fact that it is surrealist-in French- and 700 pages long).  The chapter is actually pretty interesting and not too hard to understand, so I'm going to try to get part of that knocked out today.  That would be really great, because after that, I have one more written exposé to do, and then I basically have to start studying for exams.  Oh, and I still have to finish Aurélien and the second book for my littérature de jeunesse class, Sans famille.  I guess I'll just try to intertwine studying with reading/writing.  I am down to 43 days until home, so I am finally seeing the light at the end of the tunnel!  On Wednesday, I will be down to one Lent before home, and, as I've said, if I can give up sweets for 40 days, I can deal with France for 40 more days no problem!!!

But the real point of this entry is to talk about my visit to lovely Florence to visit Kate (who, I'm about 99% sure, will be my roommate next year!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!).  It was an interesting trip in terms of getting there.  My first train from Basel to Milano Centrale was about 7 or 8 minutes delayed, which, when you only have a 15-minute cushion to begin with, is enough to send you into a panic.  I don't think I've ever prayed so hard in my life.  "Please God, let me make my other train," I pleaded under my breath.  Because my phone, thanks to the different plugs in Switzerland, had died (and, thus, I had no way to charge it), and I had no way to get in touch with Kate if I missed my second train.  Which I almost did.  When I raced off the train (well, as fast as I could with my backpack, purse, and my now infamous red duffel, who Jinah and I lovingly call Big Bertha), I glanced up at the departure board, and did not see Florence as a final destination.  I saw that there was a train leaving at the time listed on my ticket, so I went over to that gate to check it out.  The final destination was Rome, and in my flustered (to put it mildly) state, it didn't even occur to me that Florence wouldn't be the final destination.  I hopped on the train and walked from car to car until I reached my car towards the back (I thought it was better that I just get on the train, rather than running outside alongside it and wondering if it was going to leave).  I found my seat, and put my duffel up in the overhead storage area, only to discover afterwards that a man had put his jackets there.  He started yelling at me in Italian, and all I could do was put on my most pathetic and remorseful face (because, in that moment, I couldn't even remember how to say "I'm sorry" in Italian, which Kate had told me before I left and which I had written down on my little cheat post-it of useful phrases).  He stared at me for the rest of my time on the train, although, at a certain point, it turned into sketchy Italian guy-staring.  When I got off the train, there was Kate, and I was SOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO happy to see her after the mentally and physically exhausting day!

She took me back to her host family's house, where I got to meet Frederico, Cristina, and their 9 year-old, Lisa.  When Frederico asked me "Como stai?," I knew what he was asking me, and obviously knew the equivalent in both Spanish and French, so answered with "Bien?????".  Luckily, Kate corrected me  (apparently it's "bene"), but I still felt awful, because I wanted to express how thankful I was that the family was letting me stay with them (and I could have done it in 3 other languages, but not Italian).  I guess that's another language to add to my list of "need to learn," which is getting bigger and bigger with each of my trips.  Then Kate and I took a city bus to a piazza with panoramic views of the city.  I'm sure that it's beautiful even during the day, but at night, it was absolutely amazing!!!  Then, since it was really dark already at about 6 (damn daylight savings time!), we went back to the house, and Cristina prepared us an amazing dinner of vegetable soup and fried dough (which we spread cheese on during dinner and jam, or in Kate's case, Nutella, during dessert).  

During dinner, we watched La Ruota della Fortuna (a.k.a. Italian version of Wheel of Fortune).  This was probably one of the funniest experiences of my life, mostly because of Victoria, the equivalent of Vanna White.  But Victoria, who, let's face it, looks a LITTLE slutty, hardly speaks any Italian (I think Kate said she's Swedish), so as she mispronounced words (only to be corrected by the host) or was asked any questions, she would just say "Siiiiiiiiii," and smile, which was a little hard to look at because all of the extra collagen in her lips.  To only add to the sluttiness, the camera angles were ridiculous, allowing the audience the opportunity to look directly up her (short and tight) dress as she did her very orchestrated spins.  So you can imagine how hilarious this experience was, even with the language barrier for me (because I think Victoria and I are at about the same level of Italian), and Kate, Frederico and Cristina were ON THE FLOOR laughing!

We went to bed pretty early, since I had been up since 4:30 that morning due to the death of my phone, but not before we watched a couple of episodes of the Daily Show (which Kate has now gotten me hooked on!!!) and one of our favorites, Gilmore Girls (which caused a lot of eye-rolling this summer at the Burrow, mostly when we would make Josh stop watching whatever sporting event he was watching and hook up the Playstation for us so we could have a Gilmore Girls marathon.  He should have just stayed and watched with us, what with all the valuable lessons about mother/daughter relationships!!!).  I think that, by the end of the weekend, we had watched a respectable 8 or 9 episodes (clearly not the 16!!!!!!!!! that Molly watched with her sister when she was visiting Georgetown this fall, but not bad overall).  

On Friday morning, Kate and I got up and had a leisurely breakfast (which, in her house, is basically like dessert for breakfast- there were lots of biscotti and other cookies) and then, after picking up sandwiches from her favorite sandwich place (I declared my vegetarian sandwich the best sandwich I had ever had, and I don't even like sandwiches!), we went over to where she goes to school.  She had two classes, so she set me up in the library so I could read some Aurélien, which I knew I needed to get done, so I was happy for the excuse to read!  After she was done (and after she had recovered from her disgust with the vagueness of work that Italian teachers assign- the same disgust that I would experience the following week), we did a quick walk-through of the Duomo, and then walked over to the more fashionable part of town where they have all of the luxury boutiques we can't afford.  Window shopping is always fun, though!  From there, we went over to a bridge that overlooked the Ponte Vecchio, which is the most beautiful bridge I've ever seen.  Lined with shops that have been owned by the same families for centuries, it has an incredible old-world charm.  

After our small dose of sightseeing, we went back to the house and relaxed for a little bit.  We had decided to go to a restaurant called Il Vegetariano (of course Kate, the perfect hostess, would find a vegetarian restaurant for me!!!), which we walked to in the POURING RAIN, whining the whole way.  At first, I tried to look on the bright side of things, saying that we were in the rain in ITALY, not in the rain in Western MA/CT, but that only lasted so long, because before long, both of our shoes had turned into puddles.  The restaurant was really good, and we got to pregame for going out with a little alcoholic cider (sidro) that was pretty darn good.  Next, we went to Shot Café and got some Cosmos (it was my first, and it was DELICIOUS!!!).  But during dinner, my stomach had really started to hurt, in passing waves of intense stomach pain, so intense that I felt like I was going to vomit.  Putting more alcohol in my stomach didn't help, so we ended up having to go home :(  But hey, at least we got our Cosmos!  By the time we got home, there were several casualties of the night: both of our pairs of shoes were irreparably ruined, and our hair, which we had painstakingly straightened before leaving the house, was frizzy because of the rain.  Kate was able to find a really cute pair of gold ballet flats the next day, but, being that I am a size 11 in the U.S. (42 in Europe), it is almost impossible to find shoes.  So I think I may have to wait until I get home to replace them (maybe JCrew will be having a sale?!?).  

On Saturday, we went to the Accadémica gallery, where Michelangelo's David, a true marvel of sculpture, is housed.  As we left the gallery, we witnessed perhaps one of the funniest scenes ever: outside of many tourist spots, vendors, many of African descent, try to sell their wares: knock-off bags and sunglasses, tripods (?) and the same 5 or 6 posters of paintings.  Well, along came the police on their motorcycles, and I have never seen a group of people collectively move that fast.  They snatched up their wares with blinding speed- it was truly a sight to behold.  So for the rest of the day, each time we saw any of those vendors, we kept crossing our fingers that the police would come along again, so that we could see a repeat performance.  

It was also at the Accadémica gallery that I learned that I am tall.  I know, shocking!  I had really always thought I was on the shorter side (maybe even a little shorter than average height) :).  Other than the random guy in the elevator of my building in Strasbourg saying "Merde, vous êtes grande!", I really had no reason to believe I was tall :) - that is, until I got to Italy.  I guess Italian women must not be tall, because almost every time I would meet someone ( Frederico, Cristina, Lisa, the random security guy at the Accadémica, random sketchy people on the street at night), they would not even greet me- the first word out of their mouths was consistently "Alta!".  It was pretty funny.  

On Saturday, we also got a chance to sample some of the local fares of Italy- namely, pasta and gelato.  For lunch, I got this amazing pear and gorgonzola tortellini, and for dinner, pumpkin ravioli (I just can't resist anything with pumpkin!!!).  After lunch, we got gelato at Grom's which is apparently pretty well-known.  The thing I love about gelaterias is the way they display the gelato- it's so fluffy and beautiful, and if it's fruity gelato they will often have chunks of that fruit in the display case.  And obviously, it tastes amazing.  Our dinner was absolutely amazing- we got wine (a nice fruity, girly white, which I was very grateful to Kate for!), our pasta dishes (Kate got pasta with lobster), and dessert (chocolate cake for her and apple cake for me, but we shared it).  And it was the longest dinner I have ever had- we were actually at the restaurant for about 3 hours!!!  It was a really nice time to get to chat, because, even though we had had lots of time to catch up throughout the weekend, we didn't have anywhere else we needed to be- we could just sit and relax!  We have had a lot of the same experiences with studying abroad, and both have found that not every day is a happy day, not every day is a sad day, and homesickness comes and goes.  So it's really a mixed bag type of experience.  And Kate was giddy with excitement about her amazing boyfriend Dave's impending visit over Christmas break (and no, I'm not just saying that because I think he may be reading this!!!), and I talked about how excited I was to go home and see my family and friends (I'm really hoping a Boston trip, or trips, works out!!!), so we both have wonderful things to look forward to in in the next 43 days (actually, I think it's 42 days before Dave's arrival in Italia!).  Obviously, we are so excited to know where we're living next year- Riggs R-02!!!- because so many people are so stressed out about the housing process as we speak.  And I think that, if the two of us do end up rooming together (which is almost a certainty at this point!) we'll make excellent roommates!  And I can't wait to be in the apartment with Kate, Kristin, Molly and Alex (I also just can't wait to be back at Georgetown with all of my other friends!).  I hope we can come up with some sort of cute name, à la Burrow, for our little nest egg!  So whenever I have a truly bad day, the prospect of going home for Christmas, and my excitement about next year, get me through it, as do all of the kind, thoughtful messages and packages that all of you have been sending me. 

On Sunday, I was really sad to be leaving Kate, but, at the same time, I was ready to get back to my apartment, sleep in my adopted bed, and be in a country where I actually speak the language.  As soon as I started being frustrated by the events of this week, I wanted to be back on vacation (or back at home for all of the election hoopla), but that will come soon enough!!!

I hope all is well with all of you, and, as usual, I am sending you my love!

Kristen 

Les elections

Today is by far one of the most exciting days in recent memory, because in the early morning hours Strasbourg time, the United States, the best country in the world (I know a certain few of you will get a lot of satisfaction out of reading that), elected Barack Obama as its 44th president.  This fact makes today not only an exciting day, but also a historic one, because, despite the repressive and inhumane system of racial inequality and segregation that reigned de facto into the second half of the 20th century, America has just elected an African-American president.  If proof was ever needed as to how far our country has come in terms of tolerance, this would be it.  Because I can say for a fact (a fact that has been confirmed to me by several French people), that France is not nearly ready to elect a president of color, nor will it be any time in the foreseeable future.  It makes me sick to imagine the political climate in nations where it is still unacceptable (or even forbidden) for a person of racial, religious, or ethnic majority to run for high office.  So today, I am basking in the feeling of being proud to be an American- and my red, white, and blue attire proves it!

This morning, I planned on getting up at 5:15 to get to the Strasbourg Hilton by 6 for the post-election breakfast put on by the Americans in Strasbourg Society (or something to that effect).  I do remember turning my alarm off and giving myself 5 minutes to stay in bed, but before I knew it, I was waking up for a second time.  I turned on my light, put on my glasses, and said a little prayer. 6:07.  "Merde. Merde. Merde. Merde," I said under my breath as I quickly threw on my clothes, brushed my teeth, grabbed my things for class, and caught a cab.  That was the quickest I've EVER gotten ready, I suppose because I was never in the habit of falling back to sleep before I got to Strasbourg and really hate being late.

The breakfast itself was a lot of fun.  Susan, our program director, had reserved a table just for us Georgetown students, because apparently this is an invitation-only event (they turned away about 200 people!).  They had an American-style buffet breakfast, and, of course, threw in a ton of bread, so we had the choice of having things like scrambled eggs, bacon, and pancakes  (I tried the scrambled eggs, mostly because I love hotel eggs, but I didn't try anything else).  We got to watch Obama's acceptance speech (not live though), which was absolutely beautiful.  He has an incredible gift of rhetoric, so listening to him speak is mesmerizing.  There were several points in the speech where I was sobbing, because the speech was just so well-done and emotional.  Just as a side note, I checked the Washington Post online as I was throwing on my clothes this morning, because I didn't want to arrive at the Hilton and not know who won (although I guess it would have been sort of a neat surprise).  

After the breakfast, was over, I located the nearest tabac and bought 3 different newspapers: Le Monde  and Le Figaro, two Parisian papers; and Dernières Nouvelles d'Alsace, an Alsatian regional newspaper.  I was happy as a clam.  I really wanted an Obama button, which were nowhere to be found, even at the breakfast, so if anyone has any extras, you know where to send them!!!!!!  

When CNN started streaming video of the scene on Pennsylvania Avenue, I got a lump in my throat.  I wanted, so badly, to run to the White House with all of my Georgetown friends and frolic in a sea of Obamamania.  I knew a bunch of my friends were probably there, and sure enough, when I got back to my house and checked Facebook, a bunch of them had updated their statusesto say "So-and-so just ran to the White House to celebrate Obama's victory!".  I'll admit it, I was jealous.  And I know that people (and by people, I mean my parents) say, "Well, it was your decision to go abroad, and you knew the elections were going to be going on, so that's life," which annoys me to no end, because it is on days like this one that I hate France.  

Yes, you read that correctly.  Today I hated France.  I should have added "meltdown" to the title of this entry, because that's what I had today.  I think the fact that I only got 6 hours of sleep last night didn't really set the tone for a good day, and it was only exacerbated by the homesickness I felt at not being able to be in D.C., sprinting to the White House.  But the French didn't really help their case today either.  In my first class, comparative literature, I had to give an oral presentation.  Now, oral presentations (or exposés) for French students usually have to be 25-30 minutes, but my teacher said that, since I'm a foreign student, it could be however long I felt comfortable talking for, since she knew it would be hard for me.  I thought that was very understanding of her, but I was still really nervous as I headed up to the front of the room desperately clutching my notes.  Now, the class is relatively big, probably about 35 people, so that was really intimidating.  Now obviously, I speak French a lot slower and stumble a lot more than an actual French student, but there was a group of 3 girls in the back who were being completely rude, laughing into their scarves to muffle the sound and clearly being disrespectful.  I was really upset, because I had been incredibly polite during their presentations, and the least they could do was give me that.  And I can pretty much guarantee you that my French is better than their English is (based on the fact that almost no one speaks English in Strasbourg, and if they do speak it, it's VERY poorly), so I came out of that very frustrated.  The teacher said I did well, though, so that was nice to hear.

My second class was uneventful, other than passing in a paper.  The third class, though, was awful.  I have to read Aurélien, by Aragon, a 700-page surrealist monster of a book.  I got to page 500 over break, but I literally couldn't look at it any more once I got to a certain point on the train back.  So I haven't finished it yet, which I thought wasn't a big deal, because the class consists of the teacher talking to us for 2 hours-there is no class participation grade, because class participation is sort of frowned upon.  False.  It would have been better to have finished it.  Because my teacher sprang on us today that we have a 4-hour midterm on December 13th, and it is a "dissertation."  Well, obviously, once she said that, I couldn't pay attention for the rest of the class, because I was freaking out.  But I went up to her after class and asked what I needed to do for it, hoping with all of my being that she would say that I was exempt from taking it, as all of my other professors had said to me.  W-R-O-N-G.  I DO have to take it, although she said, "Oh, well, you can use your book and your French-English dictionary." Thanks a fucking bunch, because that will really place me on an equal playing field with all of the other students in the class, all of whom are FRENCH.  And she asked me if I had heard of a dissertation after she attempted to explain it to me (it does not mean the same thing as in the U.S.), and when I said no, she said, "Oh, well it's a very French thing."  Oh really.  Thanks.  I was literally tearing up in front of her- there is no way I can write for 4 hours about an incredibly hard-to-understand 700-page surrealist book...in French.

At that point, I was pissed, and then she said, "Oh, you're American, right?  What did you think about the elections?"  I answered that I was very happy, although I really felt like cursing at her, so as soon as I left the room, I just broke down crying.  And once I got home, my host family was already eating (host brother is home for vacation, and, while it was nice to meet him, I was NOT in the mood to talk to anyone), so I ate quickly, and then talked to my dad, who told me to stop crying and stop getting myself so stressed out.  Not what I needed to hear.  As many of you  know, I am a very emotional person, so crying every once in awhile is a good way for me to get my frustration out.  So basically the only good thing about today has been the result of the election... thank God for Barack Obama!

All of this, I think, has a lot to do with the fact that it's THAT time of the semester, the part where I start getting rundown (although that pretty much started the first day I got here) and cranky, which in turn makes me homesick.  But I will be home in 47 days, which is so soon, so a week from today, which will mark 40 days until I go home, is my first benchmark before Thanksgiving. Because I figure if I can give up sweets for 40 days of Lent, I can survive France for 40 more days no problem (because the two are so similar ;)  !!).  I am just thanking my lucky stars at this moment that I'm not spending an entire year in Strasbourg...

So yes, today is my official I HATE FRANCE day.  Appreciate it, because it can only get better from here.  But Allie and I had a little tradition last year.  There is this song I have (that I think was on Grey's Anatomy) called "I Hate Everyone," so last year, when Allie and I would get completely frustrated by the world, we would literally let our hair down, and just rock out to this song that talks about this guy who is annoyed by everyone.  It was a very helpful tool for getting frustration out.  It has really been that kind of a day.  I keep reminding myself, though, that this is pass-fail, which is a good thing to keep in mind, because they don't even GIVE OUT perfect scores here.  Of course not!  Why would they do that?

I hope Tim doesn't read this, or he will remind me for the rest of my life of the one day that I hated the French.  Oh well.  I'll write about Italy when I'm not in the mood to throw every object within my reach.

God Bless America!!!

Sending you my love,

Kristen

Un paradis-sur-terre!!!

This is when I started singing songs from The Sound of Music

SNOW!!!!!!!!!!!!!

On top of Mt. Pilatus

In downtown Luzern (notice what I'm holding!)

As the train approaches Interlaken

First of all, before I say anything about my trip, I want to wish everyone a happy Election Day!!! I'm hoping that the federal write-in for my absentee ballot made it safely to Longmeadow Town Hall (since my actual absentee ballot never arrived), because I will be incredibly unhappy if I don't get to vote.  If any of you who are reading this now haven't voted yet, GO VOTE!!!  And while I will not tell you who to vote for, it should be clear to all of you that I am placing my vote 100% behind Obama!  I hope he wins!  I think he would be a breath of fresh air for Washington.

I hinted at the fact that I was in love with Switzerland in my last post, but now it has officially been elevated to heaven-on-earth status!!! Now, there are, from what I found, two strikes against Switzerland: 1) they don't use standard European plugs, which meant that I couldn't charge my phone (more on that later); and 2) they do not use the euro, and, in fact, their currency is nearly as valueless as the American dollar.  Thus, buying things like food is incredibly expensive (both because the Swiss franc is worth less than the euro and because price inflation in Switzerland is unreal).  More on that later too.

Anyway, I arrived in Luzern, Switzerland about a week-and-a-half ago, on a Saturday, and, after spending quite some time trying to find my hostel, did some exploring around the city.  The first attraction I came across was Seebrücke, a large bridge stretching from one side of a narrow inlet of Lake Luzern to another.  After dropping my ridiculous amount of stuff at the hostel (it's really a wonder I didn't throw my back out- it was pretty sore the next day), I walked back downtown to explore some of the touristy parts of town.  My first stop was Kapellbrück mit Wassertum, a beautiful wooden covered bridge lined with boxes of beautiful  flowers.  Oh, wait, that's a lie.  My first stop was Starbucks.  I found one on my walk back into town (I would eventually locate 3 in the city), and stopped to order a tall skim hot chocolate, my Starbucks drink of choice.  After the covered bridge, I stopped by the Jesuitenkirche (Jesuit Church).  I happened to stop by at just the right moment, so got to witness a wedding.  Luckily, it was in English, which was very much appreciated (I was already a little bit intimidated by the amount of German I was hearing).  The bride was a musician from Switzerland (presumably Luzern or environs) who traveled to India to teach music.  There she met the groom, also a music teacher and India native.  It was a really pretty mass, although I didn't stay past the homily.  For the rest of the afternoon, I walked around and explored all of the cute little back streets of the city.  I hopped in bed early with the intention of waking up for some day trip or another on Sunday.

On Sunday morning, I decided that I was going to go to Interlaken.  I had originally planned to do day trips to Brienz and Interlaken on Monday and Tuesday, respectively, but I found that I had had enough of touring Luzern for one day on Saturday, so I chose Interlaken for Sunday's destination.  After spending roughly $60 on my train ticket, which was slightly horrifying, I braced myself for what would turn out to be a 2-hour train ride.  Well, it was the most beautiful train ride of my life!  At one point in the journey, as we descended from the top of the mountain into the valley that housed Interlaken and other small villages, I saw what looked like a large body of water below.  As it turned out, these were big, puffy clouds!!!!!  We were so far above the cloud line that it felt like we were on an airplane!  

Once we arrived in Interlaken, situated between two lakes, as the name suggests, I realized that I wasn't really sure what to do.  I consulted my Swiss guide book (in French, to make myself feel a little bit better!), and didn't really find anything, so I just started walking.  I just happened to see a railway track going up the side of a mountain, so I went over to investigate.  They were the rails for a cog railway going up the Harder Kulm, a relatively small mountain.  I decided that that would be a fun little excursion.  Once we reached the top, there was a restaurant that most of my fellow travelers ate at (having had a terrible shock, though, at the restaurant prices in Luzern the day before, I couldn't justify spending another $20 on lunch alone.  So I snacked on clementines (my new favorite snack!!!!) and Kinder.  The view from the summit was absolutely incredible- you could see all of Interlaken below and the majestic Alps looming in the distance, their peaks already covered in snow.  

Once I descended from the mountain's top once again, I decided to take a walk along the river, which was the most interesting color of blue that I have ever seen.  It was like an aqua color, but slightly cloudy.  After spending an hour or so wandering around and sitting in a park to write postcards (I wrote 12 in less than 24 hours, which is quite a feat for me given how small my handwriting is, and, thus, how much I can fit on to one postcard!), I took the train back to Luzern.  Having passed through Brienz on the way to Interlaken, I found out that there is really nothing there, so that was quickly ruled out as a future day trip.  Essentially, there were a bunch of really cute, chalet-style houses, and the lake, and that appeared to be about it. 

So on Monday, I opted to go up Mount Pilatus, a monster of 7,000 feet (actually, that's about half the height of Pike's Peak, which we went up when we were in Colorado and whose base height is about 7,000 feet).  The Australian guys I had met at the hostel the night before told me that it was a must-see, so, feeling ambitious, I decided to try it.  The approximately $70 charge took a little bit of the wind out of my sails, but they had assured me that it would be worth it.  So I took a train to Alpnachstad and then took yet another cog railway (this one with a grade that reached, at times, a whopping 48 degrees!) to the summit.  I had talked to my parents on Sunday evening after I got back from Interlaken and told them that it was the most beautiful place that I had ever seen.  Boy was I wrong.  Mount Pilatus had views that made Harder Kulm's look like child's play!!!  I opted for a short hike (probably 80 minutes round-trip) to a small peak of the mountain, which was well-marked for the visitors that wanted to get a brisk hike in.  I had wanted to hike at least a little bit when I was in Switzerland, but felt a little uncomfortable doing so since I was traveling by myself.  But there were enough people on this trail, and it was relatively short, so I decided to go for it. 

You know the opening scene of The Sound of Music, when the camera is panning the mountains surrounding Salzburg, the beginning of the overture softly playing, but all you can really hear is the sound of birds?  That was how the hike on Mount Pilatus was.  The only sounds I heard were the distant chirping of birds, the rocks beneath my feet, and my own breathing.  I felt as though I had never breathed fresher air in my life, and the fact that I was surrounded by mountains just filled me up with happiness.  I was so reminded of The Sound of Music that I busted out the entire soundtrack on my way back to the lodge house (luckily there were not many people around).  The wind took my breath away, so it didn't sound so great, but I still had fun!  I am such a freak! :)

After taking in the views for a couple of hours with the most enormous smile on my face, I decided to take the cog railway back down again, because it looked like a storm was brewing in the distance.  I met a very nice elderly couple from County Waterford, Ireland, and, when I said that I had been about to go to Ireland with my family for Christmas (those plans have since fallen through), they told me all of the good places to visit.  It was a really excellent day, and I walked back to the hostel feeling as though I had just witnessed a little slice of heaven.

On Tuesday, it was pouring rain.  Great.  No possibility for outdoor activities.  I walked around town again for part of the morning, going into H&M out of sheer boredom, with no intention of buying anything.  For lack of anything better to do, I went back to my favorite haunt: Starbucks (I am such a horrible American who is reaping the benefits (not to some people, though) of globalization!).  I bought a sandwich, thinking that, since that was the cheapest thing I would find to eat, that would be my lunch and dinner.   I found a tomato and mozzarella sandwich on ciabatta bread that sounded good, so I got that (along with my tall skim hot chocolate, of course!).  I sat down in one of the big comfy chairs, intending to sit and read my book for awhile and enjoy the soft tunes and general ambiance of Starbucks (I really do think the ambiance is what you pay for!  I instantly feel sophisticated when I go there!), but, sadly, I was thwarted.  I took a bite of my sandwich and saw something green, so I lifted up one of the pieces of bread to find that there was pesto in the sandwich.  'That's odd,' I thought to myself, so, just to be safe, I pulled out my sheet on which I had written a couple of handy words and phrases in German, and then compared it to the ingredients list on the sandwich bag.  The words for peanuts matched up, and I instantly felt nauseous.  I brought my sandwich up to the desk and explained that I was allergic to peanuts.  The woman asked if I was alright, and I said that I didn't know.  She offered me a different sandwich (the only other thing was ham and cheese, which looked disgusting and obviously had meat, but I took it anyway so as not to waste $7), so I sat in the big comfy chair and waited to become violently ill.  As it turns out, I think I bit into the only part of the sandwich that DIDN'T have pesto on it, and I was fine, but I was still not pleased at Starbucks for trying to kill me.

On Wednesday, it was back to Basel in preparation for my train to Florence on Thursday.  The most notable thing about Wednesday was the fact that IT SNOWEDDDDDD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  The people sitting across the aisle from me on the train must have thought that I was deranged, because, as I was staring out the window at the falling snow, I had the biggest grin on my face and kept snapping photos as though I had never seen the fluffy white stuff before.  It only made me love Switzerland more!!!  I checked into my favorite hostel, the YMCA Youth Hostel, in Basel, and asked them a question that had been troubling me: my train coming back from Florence on Sunday was due to arrive at 10:45pm, and the front desk at the hostel closed at 11.  If the train was at all delayed, there was no way I would make it in time (even though the hostel is less than a 10-minute walk from Basel SBB).  They cheerily assured me that I could pick a code to punch in at the front door, and then my key would fall into the key box.  Whew!  That really made me feel better!

I set my alarm for 6:45 the next morning so that I could catch my 8:30 train.  However, I was awakened at 4:30 by the sound of my phone dying.  Crap.  I did not have a very good relationship with my phone during this trip: it wouldn't let me make calls when I was roaming, it said that I only had 6 euros worth of talking time left on my mobicarte (when I had been assured that it would last me until I leave in December), and now, due to the lack of suitable plugs, it had died, with no way to resuscitate it.  AND, that was not only my alarm (meaning that I couldn't go back to sleep for fear of missing my train), but my way to get in touch with Kate.  So if I missed my train for some reason, I would have had no way to get in touch with her.  As it turned out, my fear of missing my train was perfectly legitimate.  My first train, from Basel to Milano Centrale, was about 7 or 8 minutes late, and being that I had only started out with a 15-minute cushion between trains, I was starting to get nervous.  I can honestly say that I have never prayed so hard in my entire life.  Then, once I got off the train, I couldn't find my second train on the board.  It just didn't occur to me, in my mad rush, that Florence would not be the final destination.  So I found one with the final destination of Rome that left and the same time, and that was my train.  I hopped on the train and walked from car to car until I was at the very last one.  I heaved my suitcase into the overhead compartment, not seeing that a man had put his jacket there (honestly, put it on top of your other bag or hold it), and he proceeded to yell at me in Italian, which I didn't understand.  So I stared at him like an idiot and put on the most remorseful face that I could muster.  Oops.  He stared at me for the rest of the time I was on the train (more in a sketchy way though, especially after he saw that I was reading my French book).

This entry is getting a little long, and I have to get up at 5:15 for a post-Election Day breakfast that we're going to at the Strasbourg Hilton tomorrow, so I will continue writing tomorrow about the Italy part of this trip.  Until then, I am

Sending you my love,

Kristen