Strawberry fields

It should come as no surprise that I absolutely LOVE spring. Love Love Love. As in, we should probably be planning the wedding. I've got about a billion reasons, but some of the most important: I hate being cold (and always am), am probably clinically addicted to sunshine, and given a choice, will always go barefoot or wear flip flops over regular shoes.

Not to mention the fresh fruits and vegetables.

Over the past few weeks, as the sun has made its appearance and the birds have started singing at ungodly hours of the morning, the produce men at the local markets have brought out a new line of foodstuffs. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, it's strawberry season!

Now, I am really more of a raspberry girl. However, my preferred fruit not being available, I have been known to go pretty steady with bananas, and occasionally cheat with an apple or peach. Strawberries I like but won't necessarily seek out. 

After seeing these little red beauties appear over the last few weeks, however, I finally decided to see what all the fuss was about and fork over 3 euros for a little barquette. 

My friendly produce man (who is about as stereotypical as they get: jolly, chatty, with dirt under his fingernails and the thickest southern accent I've yet heard) tells me as he's weighing my produce that it's starting to be strawberry season, but (waggling his finger in a knowing manner) the fruit will be better later, maybe mid-May. And, handing me a strawberry for the road, sends me off. 

All I can say is that I can't imagine one single unhappy Frenchman come May. Because already, these were hands down the best strawberries I've ever had. European strawberries are smaller, more seasonal, and more flavorful than their American counterparts (I think it has something to do with not growing them in hothouses, genetically engineering them, or smothering them with pesticides. But that's just me).

I happily consumed half the container with my sandwich, the perfectly ripe fruit bringing me back to my first time in France: first stop Paris, a little room above a bustling pedestrian street which filled with a market every morning. For breakfast each day I without fail ate an entire box of fresh raspberries and a flaky croissant in the sunshine. Is it any wonder I fell in love with France?

Now, if you'll excuse me, I have some strawberries to eat.

Goodness Me I Miss My Dryer.

http://www.slate.com/id/2290317
I feel like the same artist also did IKEA instructions.

On dubbing

So those who know me are familiar with my obsession with Colin Firth (Mr. Darcy...'nuff said). This celebrity crush, along with good reviews from family, friends, and the experts in charge of Golden Globe and Academy Award nominations, have made me really really want to see The King's Speech. I have been waiting for weeks for it to finally reach the cultural backwaters (Albi). Each week I look up the movie listings only to be disappointed. Until this week. As I was enjoying the lovely sunshine yesterday, I walked by the movie theater and was very excited to see that Colin Firth would soon be gracing my local movie screen.
My patience and lawfulness (despite being sorely tempted, I have not watched a bootlegged version on the internet) were about to be rewarded!
Then two little letters showed me how wrong I was: VF.
This stands for Version française (French Version), which means that the movie has been dubbed in French (as opposed to subtitling).
It was at this moment that it occurred to me that I had a built-in ranting vehicle in my blog. So hold onto your hats, ladies and gentlemen, here we go:
First, let's talk about the absolute ridiculousness that is dubbing. My primary complaint is that it greatly reduces  the enjoyment of the viewing experience. The fact that the sound doesn't match up with the lips is irritating, extremely obvious and jarring when projected on a large screen, and indeed makes the whole thing faintly ridiculous. This is, of course, rather exacerbated by the new voices, which not only sound nothing like the original actors' voices, but also all seem curiously similar, as though one male and one female voice actor were contracted to do all the work. Or perhaps robots were chosen, as they additionally seem incapable of conveying the appropriate emotions. I don't know about you, but I prefer not to be giggling through a serious drama because of an over-the-top voice that screams out a full sentence where the actor's lips form a single word.
This effectively not only reduces the overall quality of the film, but also the value as the product of another culture. If I wanted to go to a movie and hear French, I would go to a French movie. Part of the value of an international movie is you get to experience another culture, including a foreign language. And, although I know we're not the major audience abroad, it's rather nice for the expats. Not to mention the fact that, in the particular case of  The King's Speech, language is a major issue, and I hazard a guess that a lot would be lost in translation.
Dubbing also adds a wholly unnecessary level of expense and delay to international exports. Whereas subtitling can be accomplished with a team of translators, dubbing adds another step and more expenditures in voice actors and recording another soundtrack. So not only do I not get my movie in its original form, I get it much later.
This all relates of course to live-action films. Jury's still out on animated movies. The ostensible reason for dubbing as opposed to subtitling, of course, is protection of cultural heritage. As animated movies are usually meant for a younger audience which often cannot read and is still learning its native language, I am inclined to find dubbing less of a problem here. But as for older audiences, I'm pretty sure that they are both fully literate and well integrated into their native culture. I repeat, if you are uncomfortable hearing any language but your own in a movie theater, why are you paying to see this movie? I would also like to add that the French government spends a whole lot of money on its cultural protectionism (here I will admit I think the US has some things to learn in terms of cultural, historical, and artistic subsidies). It also has paid for me to be here. What I mean by this is that the French also spend a lot of money to bring in native speakers of other languages so that their children can hear authentic speech because they have decided that French people are not gifted at foreign languages, especially as regards pronunciation. Now, is it me or could foreign films perhaps be a source of authentic foreign speech...or at least if left undubbed?
Well, silly me for expecting rational government decisions. Next I'll be asking for the importation of cheddar cheese. Meanwhile, I'll have to either go to Toulouse to see Colin Firth in English, wait for it to come out on DVD, or check out my illegal download options.

Welcome Back!

     So here I am back in France! I have therefore resurrected and rechristened the blog.
     I am ostensibly here to teach English to the French high schoolers, because the French (unlike the Americans) have realized the necessity of multilingualism in an increasingly global world. They also have the conception, in direct contradiction of their often stereotypically chauvinistic views, that the nation as a whole is terrible at foreign languages. They tend to blame it on a physical incapacity: the French language supposedly renders the native speaker unable to properly mimic non-French sounds. I'm skeptical, and I don't think, from what I have seen so far, that the French are any worse at languages than anybody else I've seen.
     In any case, the French government, in its infinite wisdom has contracted me to simply speak English with these kids. I have been given a rather terrifying amount of liberty in lesson planning ("so if you can just...get them to talk as much as possible") and thrown in front of a group of fifteen or so adolescents.
So far it's turned out alright. The kids are alternately timid or disruptive, very competent speakers or struggling with forming a question, but variety is the spice of life, right (I try to tell myself that, as any one group will only see me once every two weeks, meaning I have a very large number of different groups)?
     The interesting part so far has been the living in France. Between the bureaucracy and paperwork (opening a bank account, immigration forms, etc.) and the kids, I'm a little exhausted. I think the issue with getting settled has been that I feel like I'm starting from zero with everything I do. I spent days running around trying to get internet in the building we assistants are living in. Despite being on the school campus and having housed assistants in years past, it took us three weeks to get that set up, and it included getting a man in to put in a phone line (of course only one of the rooms had a phone jack, so I had to switch rooms). We still don't have access to the school computers, despite having asked four different people every day for a week. I spent the first week after I got here trying to figure out my schedule, get my attendance book and class lists, and filling out paperwork so I could get paid. I still don't have a schedule for my second school (I am splitting my hours between two high schools). And every time I just keep wondering why they couldn't have done this beforehand? It was a surprise to nobody that they were going to host four language assistants. They'd been in school a month before we got here. They've had assistants every year for the past five or ten years. It makes you frustrated enough to want to kick things.
     Oh and then there are the strikes. I won't go too much into detail but I'll just say that half the students are on strike too, to the point that today I had one class of three students and another of just a single student. I find it admirable that the French are politically involved and active, that they are willing to stand up and protest when their government is doing something they don't agree with (something Americans could learn from), but goodness sakes let's get on with it already.
     I realize much of this post has focused on some of the frustration I've been feeling but I assure you there are parts I love as well. I will talk more about Albi in a future post but it's a beautiful little town and the people have been extremely friendly. I'm eating my weight in bread and cheese, as well as fresh fruits and vegetables from the markets, and the teaching is rewarding as or more often as it is frustrating.
     Miss you all, love from France.

Let's see how far we've come

So last night as we were walking back from class, there was a bicyclist who had had an accident lying in the middle of the road. People were rushing to help him, somebody was calling 911, and others were running into the street to stop oncoming traffic. I think he was probably going to be ok, but he wasn't wearing a helmet and he started spasming as we walked by, so I don't know.
Anyway, the point of telling this story was to say, first of all, that you should ALWAYS wear your helmet. End of story. Secondly, it got me thinking about taking advantage of life. Between that, the metro crash on the red line in DC, and spending the entire weekend cooped up writing papers, I've been thinking about how much there is to do and see in the world.
The major thing that studying abroad has taught me is how little I know. I feel like I'm constantly learning new things, searching things out, traveling. And I still know very little about almost anything. Take geography and politics, for example.
So, reaffirmation of an old goal: take advantage. Get out and see and learn as much as possible. And that can happen even back at home.
Philosophical musings aside, I've been trying to enjoy my last month or so in BsAs (unfortunately papers get in the way a little). Kelsey came to visit last week, so I took her to all the cool places I've discovered but we also went a couple of places I hadn't gotten a chance to visit yet, like the Congress building. (Oh and we went to a classical ballet, which was pretty amazing. Can't say I particularly understood the "plot" but those people are crazy good.) Funny how showing somebody around makes you get to know your own city. Pictures here, although she's got all the good ones of the two of us. And looks like Amanda's coming next week! woot!
At this point, I'm done with classes (finally!!! I feel like I have been in school forever) and just have a paper and an exam left before I'm finally done with junior year. So I'm starting to look forward to next fall, of course, but first it will be so nice to be home for a bit.
Maybe it's the stress, maybe it's the fact that I have been away a long time or that I get to go back soon, but I've been missing things from home:
free water at restaurants, a spice rack, doing my own laundry, knowing what things actually are when I look at the list of ingredients, not having to think beforehand about what I'm going to say when I walk into a store to ask for something, sidewalks not covered in dog poop, summer, the food, the people, humor I can understand immediately and participate in.
Things I'll miss from BsAs: the sheer amount of things to do, tango, mate, cheapness, the people, making fun of people in English and not having them understand me, ferias, the food, walking everywhere, the Argentine accent, the sun, the laid-back atmosphere, the abundance of bookstores, Governor Sanford (jk).
All in all, although I'm ready to be back to normality, to a system I understand and can work in, I wouldn't change my past year for the world. I don't think I can express (even to myself) the impact it's had on my life, so if you hear me blabbering on about it, please bear with me.
I just realized this is kind of a wrap-up entry and I still have two weeks left here... I'll probably post briefly again but in the meanwhile, thanks for following, anybody who actually still reads this :) and I can't wait to see you all! Maybe we can have mate and french bread.
All my love,
Jenelle
PS. I know I have been deficient on the postcard front, but I do have them, so if you would like one, send me your address :)

Mate culture, Iguazu, and Jenelle's Rule Of Four

Hi everybody, sorry it's been a while since I updated. I would make excuses, but I feel like it's better to be out experiencing my life abroad than writing about it...
When I last wrote, I believe I was dying of midterms. Well that is basically all over and we've moved on to final papers, but I did get a little respite in between.
I've come up with a theory of living abroad, we'll call it Jenelle's Rule of Four: After almost exactly four months you will be done with the culture shock cycle and feel at home in your new city abroad. This generally occurs close to the time (in semester study abroad programs) that you're starting to get ready to head home. This has happened to me both semesters, and I'm pretty happy that I have a month left here to enjoy being adjusted.
Which brings me to my next point. I have finally figured out what I think of Buenos Aires/Argentina/Argentines. I like the people, I like the culture. I don't particularly like the city. It's enormous. It's dirty. You can't walk a block without stepping on a broken tile in the sidewalk, around dog poop, or under a drip (no idea where the water falls from. Don't want to know). The subte is a mix of occasional efficiency and rush hour conditions that make sardine cans look spacious.
But there are parts I like, too: it's also got trees and theaters and european facades. It's confusing and bustling and vibrant. And the people here are some of the friendliest I've ever met. I'm going to digress for a moment to tell a story.
Last week I was at my tango lesson, where my friend Alessandra and I are the only non-Argentines. It was one girl's birthday, so after class they brought out the cake they had made her and uncorked a bottle of champagne. After pouring, we all sang and toasted. And then the Argentines came around and clinked glasses with everybody. Individually. And then they sat around for half an hour and chatted and just generally had a group hangout session. I don't know how to explain it, but that for me epitomizes the culture here. They care about each other. They take the time to do the things that really matter. They sit and drink mate and play the guitar and relax because even though it's a city life is too important to rush away. They laugh.
It's one of those "had to be there" moments, but for me that is Argentina.
On a rather unrelated note, I went to the falls at Iguazu! I'd been wanting to go because I kept hearing great things and finally manged it last weekend. The falls are located on Argentina's border with Brazil and Paraguay and are absolutely breathtaking. We couldn't go to the Brazilian side because the visa to get to Brazil is expensive and difficult to get, but everybody says the Argentine side is better anyway. I took about fifty billion waterfall pictures from every angle, walked quite a bit, and took a boat under some of the little falls, so I was completely soaked. In other words, pretty much had a fantastic day. It was an extremely long bus ride, but definitely worth it. Pictures here.
And now my friend Kelsey's here visiting from Chile, so I'm getting to see parts of the city I hadn't gotten around to seeing before, which is really exciting. And hanging out with Kelsey's pretty cool, too. I'll put up those photos soon but in the meantime I updated another of my photo albums (mostly with pictures of a polo game I went to (the Argentines are really into-and good at-polo) which was a lot of fun, even though they didn't ask us to stomp the divots).

uhhh... I'm out of creative titles. Or at least brainpower.

When I die, I'm pretty sure it will be a result of one of the following:
1. Secondhand smoke.
2. Smushed (aplastada, ecrasée, all three languages have such illustrative terms) into the street by a colectivo or a taxi in this city without stop signs.
3. In said colectivo or taxi when atrocious driving skill karma catches up with the drivers.
4. Sleep deprivation, stress, or the terrible diet of someone living off of toast until she has time to go to the grocery store during the midterm crunch.

Midterms are fun, eh? Thankfully, they are mostly over and haven't killed me yet, so I'm putting my money on the first three.
We're hitting the beginning of the end, and the requisite 3 months of culture shock are just about over. Thank goodness life's starting to feel a little more normal. Maybe when the Argentines ask the "so how do you like Buenos Aires" question (which they do allllll the time) I will actually have an answer.
Recent activities have been:
1. Finding a tango studio and taking classes (that's right, I am awesomely cool. Be jealous.) and going to a milonga to attempt to dance and stumbling upon an amazing live tango band.
2. Reading about five hundred million pages of political theory to take a 10-question multiple choice exam. Then going on facebook (which has severely limited my procrastination capabilites by changing its format) and seeing everybody counting down their last few days of school. And getting jealous.
3. Laughing at the Argentines who have broken out their wool sweaters, down vests, leather boots, and scarves. For 65 degree weather.
4. Trying to go cold turkey to cure my addiction to empanadas, dulce de leche, and alfajores. Relapsing.
5. Spending two hours in the visa office (arrive at 7:30 am) so they could make me pay 300 pesos and staple my picture to a very unofficial-looking paper with my address spelled wrong and tell me to come back to pick up my real, official visa in 20 days. At least it wasn't 11 hours like many people I have talked to.
Yup, that's pretty much it.

Dear Chile, on further reflection, I think your country is worth my $131.

Where to start... This is my problem when I haven't updated in a while.
Let's see. Well last week I went to Chile to visit Santiago and Vina del Mar (oh and Kelsey and Amanda and Dania too..). It was pretty awesome, so nice to be with people I know well and who know me. I also got free housing, which balanced out the money you have to pay the Chilean Treasury on entering. This is a reciprocity fee, and apparently it is caused by the fact that Chilean citizens have to pay to get into the US, so they charge us right back. Logical, but it's not my fault!
Oh well.
Anyway. Santiago is a nice capital city, smaller than Buenos Aires and covered in grass and trees. It's kind of a DC to Buenos Aires's New York, to give you some idea. It seemed cleaner to me, despite all the smog. Maybe the fact that I was just visiting gave me a more touristy view of it. We saw all the touristy stuff, La Moneda, La Chascona, La Plaza de Armas, and the Cerros, and then when Amanda come we basically walked through the entirety of the city.
Then when Kelsey went to Torres del Paine (honestly, you couldn't have put me in your suitcase?), Amanda and I went to Vina, where she lives in a palace next to the beach (You think I'm kidding. I'm only slightly exaggerating). The beach was beautiful, and we spent a day in Valparaiso, which is really really cool with all the crazy colored houses and staircases to nowhere. Otherwise, I mostly got to relax.
The impression I got in Chile was that the Chileans are really happy people. They're a very different population from the Portenos--for one, they aren't of European descent and so look more typically "South American". I don't know if they're more warm or open than the Portenos, but they certainly seem so when first meeting them. They're calling you "mi amor" or "querido" after the first minute. I think this is just something they say, the way old women call everybody "dear", but they definitely don't do that here in BsAs.
Then there's the Chilean form of Spanish, which you wouldn't think would be that different considering how close they are to Argentina. Think again. I didn't realize both how accustomed I'd become to the Porteno accent and also how much it had crept into my own speech until I opened my mouth in Chile. I also think it's funny how I've had both Chileans and Argentines tell me that their dialect of Spanish is the weirdest and most difficult. They've definitely got a competition thing going.
There're a lot of other minor differences, like they sell more fruits and veggies there, I think, and I found fresh spinach (!!) and yogurt in a tub rather than in a bag. (Short digression, I don't think I've explained this before, but all the dairy products here come in big bags. Milk, yogurt, ricotta cheese... it kinda weirds me out. Also, then you have to have a pitcher to put the bag in in your fridge. Seems rather inefficient to me).
Of course it all caught up to me the minute I got back, I've spent a pretty stressed week trying to catch up on my mountains of reading and finish my taxes. But that's ok, it was worth it.
I also got to go this week and get a form saying I don't have a criminal record in Argentina so that I can go get my visa in a couple of weeks. This seems pointless to me, since I have three months on a tourist visa every time I reenter the country, so after going to Chile I have till mid-July. But apparently UCA won't transfer our transcripts if we don't have a student visa, so... It was rather a fun time standing in lines, but was more efficient than I had been lead to believe. Fingerprints, what are your parent's names (Thomas Thomas? *incredulous giggle*), stamp stamp, you're done.
I had a moment the other day, while reading Borges' Fervor de Buenos Aires, of love for BsAs. Slowly, surely, it's coming. I don't know that you can live in a place for any length of time and not start to love it, at least in part. I may never live here again, I may not miss it like I miss Paris or Boulder or even DC, but there's always a fondness that comes with familiarity. There are parts I love and hate about the city, but I know how it works now. I can get from the airport without problems. When people mention intersections I kind of know where they are. I only really look at my Guia T when I'm going somewhere I haven't been before. I know what kind of empanadas I like and I've started craving dulce de leche. I say "vos" more readily than "tu". People ask me for directions like I might actually know something. In short, I've got a portena veneer.
For the rest, you'll have to see the pictures.

Quilombo (chaos/mess)

So thankfully things are settling down a bit. I've been here two months, but it doesn't feel like it, because everything's been up in the air. (Of course now that everything's getting sorted out here and I'm starting the school routine, everybody at home has breaks or is planning their summer breaks...hmmm).
I did change my classes a little bit, instead of Argentine foreign policy I'm taking a class on politics in South America (Brazil, Venezuela, Argentina, and Chile), which fits my schedule better and will be less intimidating. I would have liked to take more classes with actual Argentines, but their classes are all extremely boring (intro classes, and then the interesting ones we either can't take or are going to be way too hard). So instead I'm taking Italian and French through the public university here, classes open to anyone. I figure it'll be easier to meet people if we're struggling to communicate in a language not native to either of us. I also joined the gym, and am hoping to maybe play tennis, still... With all that (and the long commute) I'll be pretty busy. I did give myself Fridays off, though, and the Argentines have quite a few national holidays coming up, so I hopefully won't be too stressed. :)
Now it's time to comment on some of the random Argentine characteristics.
This is a land of cows. So beef is really cheap and really good. But cheese? No, we wouldn't want anything with flavor, heaven forbid (this also applies to other foods, and spicy food is hard to find). What a waste of perfectly good cheese-making materials. Also, you'd think you'd find roast beef as a sandwich meat. But no. It's all ham or salami. Prosciutto, occasionally. Although I did find turkey today, which basically made my day.
Argentina and the rest of the Spanish-speaking world have a bit of a disagreement going on vocabulary. Not just slang, everything. Like "pool": those of you who have taken Spanish will say, "piscina". Nope. "Pileta". "Skirt": "pollera" instead of "falda". "Peanut butter": "manteca de mani" replaces possibly one of my favorite Spanish things to say, "mantaquilla de cacahuate". And then add in the fact that "ll" is not pronounced "y" but "j" and you feel like you're speaking a different language.
Also, Dania's recent post on photocopying and printing has led me to comment on a similar phenomenon here (hers made me laugh out loud). While the Argentines deign you capable of operating the printer yourself, you must still bring your own paper and try to jump in line, stick in your paper, run back to your computer,push print, and sigh in relief before going back to your gchat conversation of the last 2 hours while waiting for the other students to print their fifty thousand pages of reading. And the photocopy line is a similar hassle--rather than paying for books, you get to stand in line (which has none of the orderliness of the line for the bus, where people stand in a nice straight single file line back from the bus stop), jump in and find your document on the computer database, get somebody to key in a password, and give them all your coveted change in exchange for a latin verb chart.
Finally, a note on gym membership: I have never actually signed up for a gym in the US, so I'm not exactly sure how it works, but I can imagine it's a bit different here. First, you go and sign up and pay. Then you have two things you have to do: a "welcome meeting" and a medical examination (I came to the gym to get healthy/in shape, guys) which consists of a height/weight measurement, a questionnaire, and an EKG. ?? Whatever. Oh and then you have to wait 2 days for the results of your exam, hike up to the 4th floor to get the paper that says you can climb stairs, go back down, give it to the people, and they'll finally give you your card. Efficient, eh?

Vacation vacation vacation. And then I...what? Class?

So. Tomorrow, real life begins. It's been 3+ months since I had class, and a year since I've had any in Spanish (Besides my "intensive Spanish" class, that is). Try to restrain your jealousy, you'll get your laughs when I'm having finals in July.
In the couple of weeks since I last updated, we've had orientation and a week off. Orientation was a bunch of useless information for those of us who'd been here more than three days. I was really there for the food (free breakfast!), visa information, and registration. Well, the medialunas (a type of Argentine croissant) were tasty, but the visa information was basically: we'll get back to you. Look out for an email and copy your passport in the meantime. And registration was a nightmare. They basically set up tables and they let you walk around from place to place squinting at the one schedule of classes they had put up for each department and telling you you (as an international student) were not cleared to take any of the interesting classes. And I thought France was bad. The actual signing up part took place the next day and was a thousand times easier, except for the PELs classes (the international-oriented ones), where there were two men registering us and we were told to take a number. I was 169--you can imagine how happy I was to wait around.
(un)Happily registered for my classes: Argentina in Words, Peronism, Argentinian foreign policy, and Latin 1, I headed out to Bariloche with Harris and Alessandra for a week.
Bariloche is a town southwest of Buenos Aires, part of the mountainous lake district. It's absolutely gorgeous, what with the fresh air and all. Kind of reminds me of home, especially since it's a ski destination in winter. The first day we went on a tour/hike to the black glacier (black due to volcanic sediment), then in the following days we hiked, biked, kayaked, and generally played the outdoorsy type.
They also are famous for their chocolate. Mmmm.
Picture's worth a thousand words, right? Here ya go.
Also, here's another album of life in BA. I warn you, it's a lot of flowers.
Oh, and I turned 21. Thai food and dancing. I also like this people buying me things idea. I think I'll turn 21 more often. :)

Of blondes and buses

Dearest Erin,
I hope this satisfies your vicarious travel needs.
Love,
Jenelle

I haven't posted in a while because I haven't really felt like I've had that much noteworthy to say. I mean, I read people's blogs from Africa and I feel like what I'm doing is tame by comparison. Yes, I'm in South America, but I feel like the city here is extremely European. A city is a city is a city. It's new and exciting, but sometimes I feel like I've been away from home so long I don't truly appreciate the differences.
Buenos Aires is cosmopolitan. It even looks like Europe--a lot of blondes, everybody's last name is Italian or Jewish. Apparently there were slaves in Argentina, but most of the African population died a century or two ago of yellow fever, so you don't even see a lot of black people. It's hard to pick out tourists. In France everybody had this chic air about them, here they're a lot more laid-back and their style is more colorful and unique. They all wear awesome sandals. Oh and all the girls are stick-thin. Like anorexically. Apparently they have a worse problem with eating disorders than the US. We were talking about it in my French class (I'm taking a conversation class through the Alliance Francaise to keep up my French) and apparently employers are really discriminatory and just want thin young women.
Where I live: I'm renting a room in the apartment of this wonderful old couple (94 and 90). They're chipper and love to hear about what I've been doing, and tell me about the time they went to Rome in 1936 or about Argentine history.
As for what I've been doing, I've not really been doing a whole lot of stuff--my normal day is to get up around 10, eat breakfast, mess around until like noon, make a sandwich, head to the subte, get off and walk the 15 minutes to school (I walk right by the Casa Rosada every day, don't even give it a second glance, it's ridiculous), have my 4 hour Spanish class, get out, hang out for a while, come home and make dinner, mess around for another couple of hours, and go to bed. Sometimes I go see touristy things, like we went to the Japanese Garden a while ago. But Buenos Aires is not full of really famous things you have to see like European cities are... I hope to be doing more touristing when classes start and I have a routine. Right now the fact that class is 2-6 makes it so that I sleep in and waste my morning (especially since nothing's open anyway), and you can't do anything afterwards.
On weekends we often go out, and as I mentioned before, the schedule is completely different, so I feel like I sleep the day away. In short, I can't wait to have a schedule. The intensive language class is over and we have orientation next week, a week of vacation, and then classes start the 9th of March.
During the week of vacation, I think we're going to go to Bariloche, a beautiful city in the lake country/mountains. There's a lot of outdoorsy stuff to do, and it'll be wonderful to get out of Buenos Aires, even if it is a 20-hour bus ride away. (Also, I will probably be spending the night of my birthday on a bus back to BA--no worries, though, we'll celebrate the night before).
I guess that's all for now. Sorry I'm having trouble coming up with things to talk about, leave me comments about things you want to know!
Oh one more thing: the buses. They have no maps. You just use the Guia T, a kind of map of the city booklet, and the grids tell you which buses are there. Then you look at the number and it lists what streets it goes down. But where the stop is? haha why would we tell you that. How much it's going to be? ask the driver when you get on (anywhere from 1.10 to 1.50 maybe? I always pay 1.20). Where to get off? see above. Oh and by the way, if you don't have change (monedas) don't even bother. Nevermind that there is a drastic change shortage because it's worth more as metal than as coins so people sell them on the black market... sometimes I love Argentina (but now it's just become more entertaining than annoying).
Final note: I updated my pictures. Link's in the previous post.

La Reina de la Plata

([The queen of the River Plata] as it is apparently affectionately known )
So. Buenos Aires.
...Is huge. 48 officially recognized "barrios" (quartiers, or loosely neighborhoods), a huge percentage- like 1/3-of the country's population, 6 subte (metro) lines, a couple hundred bus lines, thousands of empanada stores and kioskos (little convenience-type stores), and a park every few blocks.
And they still can't fix the holes/broken spots in the sidewalk, give me a map of the buses I can actually understand, put air conditioning on the subte, or deal with the chronic shortage of change (the bus takes nothing but coins, so people hoard them. Hence the signs in every store saying they don't have them).
Despite all that, this capital city has a charm all its own.
We've been doing a lot of sightseeing and getting to know our way around the city for the first week. A couple of trips to the Casa Rosada, a nerve-wracking bus ride watching the streets for when to push the button, and countless empanadas and helados (ice cream cones) later, I'm starting to get a feel for it. I have a feeling I'm going to wake up one day and realize how much I love it.
Other than sightseeing, I've been keeping busy with my intensive Spanish class (4 hours a day...ughhh), a weekly conversation class at the Alliance Francaise to keep up my French, and spending hours and hours sunbathing in parks.
Some tidbits:
Argentines don't do the early morning thing. Business opens at 10. You eat dinner at 10pm. Then, if you're going out that night, you head to a bar around midnight, head to the club after 2, and stay out dancing all night. It gets a little fatiguing, I'd imagine.
The president (la Presidenta) Cristina Kirchner, is the first elected woman president. She works in the Casa Rosada (their version of the White House--the walls are pink, originally because they made the paint with animal blood against the humidity or something, and now due to tradition) where the security is apparently minimal. I saw very few armed guards, the fence is only a few feet from the wall, and there's a subte stop right next to said fence. That said, Ms. Kirchner does not in fact live there, she commutes to work by helicopter every day.
I love the dollar/peso exchange rate (US$1= approx Ar$3.50), especially after France.
Miss everybody, hopefully I'll be updating more regularly when I have exciting things to talk about!

Pictures can be seen here:
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2137857&id=7412579&l=27f7b

Volume II, Chapter 1

So my flight for Argentina leaves in approximately 4 hours. I think I got all the panic out of my system last night, but I'm still a little nervous. And excited! This is going to be so very different from France, not least because it's halfway across the world. I've attempted to do my research, reading books on tangos and the dirty war in the 70's and watching Madonna sing (Evita, quite an enjoyable movie for those of you who haven't seen it). But I still feel like I know nothing about the country I'm going to. With Paris, I had been before and been learning about it for years (not to mention spending my summer speaking French). But this time, I'm really heading into the unknown with my rusty Spanish.
But anyway, I'll be there tomorrow, living in a hostel for a bit while I work out housing. And the intensive language program starts next week (supposedly, I haven't really heard from them, actually...).
I would put in some stuff about reverse culture shock and missing France and all, but I think it's not really anything that hasn't been said before. The weirdest thing was walking by strangers in restaurants, public transportation, etc., and hearing them speak English. I have to say, I also really miss the city, the food (breaddd) and the people I met there. I will hopefully be spending quite a bit of time there in the future.
I'll leave it there, as I can't really think of anything profound to share. One last thing though: word associations for Buenos Aires from the American perspective:
South America, steak, cows, pampas, tango, Evita, Juan Peron, gauchos, summer, mate
I'll let you know if that is actually what makes up BA.

La fin... de la premiere partie

So here I am almost on the other side of my first study abroad experience. I'm looking at a month at home, a week in DC, and then six months in Argentina. And then life goes back to normal (or what passes for normal...).
Exams are over, my bags are mostly packed, and I have a couple of euros in my wallet for one last pastry. And I have realized that I both really don't want to leave and really really want to be home. Aside from the things I have done very well without but miss all the same (dryers, Chipotle, Target), there's a comfort in living in the culture you grew up in that I always took for granted. It's tiring living day in and day out where your instincts, reflexes, and ingrained knowledge don't really mean anything. That said, there are things I've really come to love about France (the accessibility, the abundance of fruit, the absence of cheap consumerism). I also think I've come to realize that it's a place and people with pluses and minuses like any other, which is a realization that comes from really knowing somewhere (that may seem like a very obvious conclusion, but I think I used to put France on a pedestal because I enjoyed my vacation here and cultural allusions back in the States--I've got a more realistic view now). I've also found myself being really proud of my own country--when we talk about democracy or separation of powers in class, I find myself nodding approvingly in a "yeah, that's right, we're awesome" sort of way. So I guess the point of that long ramble was that I have developed a more realistic view of both cultures.
Right now I'm just looking forward to sleeping for a while, but I have a hunch it's going to take a bit to wrap my head around all I've seen and done.
Still, no regrets. I'd do it again in a heartbeat.
Which is lucky, since I'm off on another adventure soon (which still doesn't seem real).
I updated a photo album. The link's in the last post, I'm feeling too lazy to search for it and repost it...
Just a few more Christmas presents to buy, a farewell party, and hours and hours on a plane until I'm back in the 3 oh 3.

Procrastination method #137: New Blog Post

Hi all!
Thought I'd take some time out of my busy schedule to let you know what's going on in my life (What I should be doing: an essay outline of the first scene of Moliere's Le Misanthrope. What I am actually doing: reading The Cider House Rules (after having finished the 6th Harry Potter in French), cleaning my desk, meeting friends for sushi, discovering the genius thing on itunes, walking around Paris in the cold to do all the touristy things I never got around to, etc-the list goes on).
As you may have guessed, it's crunch time in Paris. I finally have assignments due that are actually going to be graded, and of course they hit in the last three weeks of the semester. It is insane to me that three weeks from today I'll be on a plane headed home. It's a bittersweet thought--I really miss everybody at home and I feel disconnected from everything going on there, but at the same time I am finally comfortable here and don't want to leave. I've decided the solution is for you all to up and move to Paris. Take a week, get your affairs in order, and head on over. I'll even meet you at the airport (a very generous offer, considering transport to/from there is 8.5 euros one way--highway robbery). Thanks.
I had intended to take another trip, but a look at my planner and bank account has convinced me that living it up and enjoying my last few weeks in Paris is the better option. I may take a day trip or two, but those are TBA.
Notable events since my last post: I had escargot! (I know you hear it all the time, but it really did just taste like the garlic sauce, with the chewy texture of calamari or mussels). So perhaps it didn't really merit the exclamation point, but those of you who knew me as a picky child unwilling to try anything will appreciate it.
I saw some lady rolling a cigarette in the metro. I used to think the French smoking stereotype was crazy, but I have since realized that while not always super obvious (especially since the smoking ban in restaurants) and exaggerated, it's definitely there.
I went to a French soccer game (France v Uruguay). We expected a little more excitement, but with a final score of 0-0, there wasn't much to fight about.
Harris and I made Thanksgiving dinner for our host families. It was a grand success, although the day in the kitchen was exhausting. They seemed to really like everything, although I don't think they really understood the American tradition of stuffing yourself silly :)
I don't know whether it's because I'm becoming used to all the little differences, stopped pointing them out to myself, or whether they weren't that large in the first place, but at this point I'm not coming up with many big cultural differences to report.
Final news, I sent in my deposit for the program in Argentina next semester, so that's definite. I have a month at home, a week in DC, and then off for my next big adventure (ooh another procrastination technique: planning a semester in South America...)
ps I added new pictures to a previous album: http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2122365&l=82d97&id=7412579

The one I know you've all been waiting for.

Sorry it's been so long since I updated! Time has been flying by.
Classes have been the same old same old, for the most part. I go. I write notes and stare off into space when the professor goes on a tangent (but I can get away with it because I'm that American kid...). The workload is different, and it kind of freaks me out that we have yet to have a graded assignment, but I'm enjoying the fact that I don't have to work as hard to follow anymore.
In fact this month has been marked in general by greater comfort in my surroundings. Coming back from my various and sundry journeys (read on for more information!) has been like coming home. I find I don't need a map all the time anymore, and I instinctively know which way to turn in the metro when transferring. During the long metro rides to class, I eavesdrop and understand with greater facility. I say "pardon" rather than "sorry" when I bump into people.
And I have for the most part stopped being a tourist in Paris. While I still intend to do more touristy stuff (I have yet to eat escargot, for example, and I haven't been to the Musee d'Orsay or the Centre Pompidou), I'm really enjoying the feeling of being in the flow of normal life here.
We did visit Mt. St. Michel (a very very long day trip on the bus) with my program, which was quite enjoyable. Pictures of that trip and the last month in Paris:
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2122365&l=82d97&id=7412579

We got a week off for Toussaint (all Saint's Day), so I headed off to Spain with Harris and then went on to Italy. It was kind of a whirlwind trip, and I don't think I was properly dry for the last five or so days of it, but it was fantastic. It's scary to see how much Spanish and Italian I'd forgotten, but it was definitely coming back. Highlights of the trip included:
Beach and Basque culture in San Sebastian and Bilbao.
Seeing Gaudi's architecture in Barcelona, which is both way out there and absolutely fantastic.
Bocadillos in Spain (although I was pretty sick of the lack of vegetables by the time we left) and pizza in Italy.
The life and history of Rome. Also, going to the theater completely soaked from the rain and only understanding the very basics of what was going on
A group of Italian people who burst into song on a vaporetto in Venice.
Planning and executing a trip by myself--it's very empowering to know that I'm traveling through a foreign country on my own and knowing that I can handle anything that comes up.
Pictures can be seen here:
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2124479&l=474dc&id=7412579
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2125134&l=061f2&id=7412579

I was glad to get back, however. Moving place to place to place is exhausting, especially if you take night trains and/or buses.
Plus, I wouldn't want to have missed the elections! All the Americans I know were super excited and stayed up till 5 am to watch the results come in (we had quite a trek that involved going from a campaign party too packed for comfort to a bar that closed around three to my friend's kitchen, where I waited until the West coast results came in, cheered faintly, and made my way back to collapse into bed). However, the French reaction surprised me a bit. As much as they were excited about Obama and as much as the US elections took over the news here (they even broadcast from New York for a week), I didn't really hear much the next day. I think because Obama's victory was predicted for days in the polls they saw it as a foregone conclusion and just moved on. It probably would have been different if McCain had won.

Finally, I just got back from a trip to visit my brother Craig, who's rocking the Scottish educational system in Edinburgh. We visited a castle, had scones and some crazy diabetes-inducing desserts only the English would think up, and climbed a very tall hill (as steep as it was, I can't on principle call it a mountain...). It was good to hear English (of a sort) and have a connection to home. Pictures here: http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2125159&l=ad0fc&id=7412579

Overall, it's been a fantastic month and I can't believe I only have 1 and 1/2 to go. I do miss home, though, and the people especially. Keep sending emails!

Spoiler alert: this post will be random

I have finally settled into a routine, which is both good and bad. Good, because life is a little more predictable, and bad because it means I have very little in the way of interesting doings to report, as I tend to spend the times I don't have class (Wednesday mornings, for example) catching up on my sleep, my homework, or my neglected laundry rather than doing anything noteworthy.
I have however, bought a couple of sets of plane tickets: I plan to spend the week-long holiday for Toussaint (all Saint's Day-November 1) in Spain and Italy, and am going to visit Craig in Edinburgh for a weekend in November.
Classes are going well, I'm starting to get into the rhythm of things. It's a strange mix of easy and difficult. My classes are not necessarily more challenging than in the US, and since I'm mostly taking introductory courses there is a lot of time spent on procedure and introduction. What makes it difficult is that I have to pay attention. Every single second. Sounds easy enough, but what you don't realize is that when you take classes in your native language you tend to tune stuff out, let words just glide over you while you doodle or whisper to your friend or check the time on your cell phone. Or, you know, take a nap. Here I have to pay attention to every single word, because you can get lost and it's much more difficult to get back on track since you don't have the same familiarity, the same anticipation of where the phrase or the sentence or the train of thought is going to go. And that gets tiring.
Observations of French society: They are relaxed. They take their time, even in the city. Even when my host mom is running late, she sits down and eats her breakfast. Classes don't start exactly on time and nobody seems to really care. And yet they still get done what they need to get done without any difficulty. I knew already most things in France are expensive: restaurant food, nail polish, clothes (they have huge sales like twice a year but not otherwise), etc, but strangely not books or random things like qtips.
Things I miss: certain foods: things with cinnamon (french toast, pumpkin pie, cinnamon rolls), spicy food, peanut butter (although I did recently buy some), bagels, fried things (ie clam cakes). Libraries and stores that are open on Sundays (and Mondays. And before 9 am. And after 7 pm.) A campus bookstore that has the books you need. Tennis. The sun. You people (sappy, I know, but I had to put it in there).
Things I do not miss: the constant, repetitive election coverage all over the newspapers and TV. Loud Americans on their cell phones. SUVs. Subdivisions. Crocs and sweatpants as acceptable formal attire. Supermarket bread, fruits, and vegetables (as opposed to the fresher ones found here at the little stores). Jello. Kraft American cheese. Expensive textbooks.
One of my goals for the semester: try every French pastry I can find.
Other things that may astonish you: I have discovered myself to actually kind of like coffee, peaches, and ham.
Final note: I have given my address to many of you, but I'm afraid I haven't given you all the information. On the off chance you send a package, you must write "air mail" or "par avion" or "prioritaire" AND "no commerical value" (and then do not declare any value when sending the package). Do not send electronics (or food, either, I don't think. I'm checking up on that).

Ben, oui!

So, some more notes from Paris. Mostly in the past week or two I’ve been running around being touristy: I went to Rouen and Giverny last week; Rouen to see the famous Cathedral, the place Joan of Arc was burned, which is now marked by a very nice tall cross and a church that feels like the inside of a ship. But a nice, light, airy, colorful ship, and Giverny to see Monet’s house and gardens. Let me tell you, the guy had it good. I would definitely live in that house—it made me want to buy a summer house in France, actually, and the gardens are full of all kinds of beautiful flowers. Thankfully we were there in the sunshine.

Then this weekend, after a few days of orientation at the Institut Catholique, we decided to take a break before classes started and head to the beach. So we caught at TGV to Nice Thursday morning and came back late last night. Nice is very sunny and slightly touristy in areas, but I loved the Mediterranean feel of Vieux Nice and I especially want a house with a red tile roof. The beaches are nice too, even though they’re rocky and I didn’t have a bathing suit with me (too cold for swimming, anyway). The middle of Nice looks very futuristic, the place has checkered tiles and there’s a tram that runs through it. You know when you look at the designs of buildings and things and they’ve drawn in plants and people and colored it all in? That’s what it looked like. The hostel we stayed at (my first hostel experience, guys!) was Petit-Prince themed, which brought back nice memories of high school French, but was run for the most part by Australians, so I was immersed in English for the weekend.

Yesterday I took a day trip to Eze village, a medieval castle about 20 minutes outside of Nice and way up the hill. It was gorgeous, especially from the top of the hill, where the ruins are set into an “Exotic Garden” with cacti and goddess sculptures. But the French Riviera is amazing, guys, and the water is very very blue. I then started a hike down the hill but had to come hiking back up when I realized I no longer had my camera. Which I never found. RIP.

On another note, I started classes today (after a horrific registration process that took two days, countless trips to the boards to look up schedules, and appointments made with the secretary—you people in the US university system, thank your various deities), and it looks like I’m going to vaguely enjoy at least one of them. I am taking Geography of the EU (which I had today), Introduction to Linguistics, Comparative Literature, Language and Expression (focusing on a novel by Balzac), and History of Political Ideas in Europe. All of which I am quite looking forward to, except the four hours of Comparative Lit. in a row.

Other random things:

In the train station, there’s a waiting room with a bathroom (which they charged you 50 centimes to use), and while I was waiting an hour for my train yesterday, I’m pretty sure the lady cleaned the floor three times. Life must get boring if all you do is take people’s money so they can pee before a long train ride.

The title of this entry is my favorite French phrase, I think. Pronounced (for you Anglophones) bah, we!, it is used all the time in daily conversation. More than just a “well, yes”, which is what it means literally, the French manage to add a connotation of, “well that’s obvious” (there’s also “ben, non”, which can invoke a sense of, “obviously not, what were you thinking, idiot?). But the real reason I love this phrase so much is that even the little kids use it. The two-year old I baby-sit cracked me up one day when she showed me a drawing and responded, when I noted that it was pretty and asked whether she did it herself, “ben, oui!”

My internet is finally fixed!!! After a month of struggle. And I have put up pictures.

http://www.new.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2119715&l=7cb7b&id=7412579

Chiche!

So when I left you last, I was enjoying free bread on the terrace of an idyllic café. Well, I’m still there.
Just kidding. Instead, I’ve discovered the marvel that is the university restaurant. Let me tell you, the French know how to do food right (something that may not come as a surprise to many of you). For 2.85 (Euros, naturally, so about $4.25 with the exchange rate the way it is), you get a main dish (meat, vegetable, and a grain), an appetizer or yogurt or fruit, and a small dessert. Or a main dish and a large dessert. Plus the ubiquitous free bread and water. It is perhaps not haute cuisine, but let me tell you, TDR has some things to learn about cafeteria food. Furthermore, we have spent long hours of conversation discussing why the amazing packaged mousse (made by such commonplace companies as Dannon and Yoplait) does not exist in the US. Epic fail.
My food rave temporarily over, except to tell you that surely heaven has crêperies and patisseries on every corner, I can now move on to a short explanation of my life here and what I will be doing for the next few months.
The past week and a half I have devoted three hours a day to an “intensive” French course, where we review basic grammar and French culture. It has not been particularly challenging, but I have learned a few things. For example, the title of this post, “chiche,” means basically “go on, I dare you” (i.e. as a response to something along the lines of “I can eat this entire cake in the next ten minutes”). We have also done some neat cultural activities, such as visiting a cabaret (no girls doing the can-can, sorry guys, just people sitting around singing old French songs, but fun nonetheless) and a guided tour of the Louvre. In any case, we have one more week of that, after which we head to our universities, which we (or at least I) have now chosen. I will shortly be enrolled in the Institut Catholique de Paris, a small(ish—it’s about the size of AU) private school with a beautiful campus in the middle of Paris. There’s a week of orientation starting the 22nd, and then classes start the 29th.
It may be worthwhile to take a minute to say that the whole process has been extremely disorganized and explain a little bit why. The French university system is very different from the American one. First off, it is state sponsored, and everyone who passes their baccalauréat at the end of high school may enroll. Costs of enrollment are under 500 euros a year. Secondly, the French enroll as part of a strict degree program, where the course is basically planned out for them with very few electives (they also get the equivalent of a bachelor’s degree in 3 years). So they basically get told what classes to take when and so they show up. We American exchange students get to pick really any classes we want, but they don’t have the same mechanism to deal with that kind of choice, so it’s a rather frustrating administrative mess. Long story short: I don’t yet know what classes I’ll be taking.
Finally, in addition to hopefully traveling the continent, I will be doing some babysitting on the side to earn some pocket money.
Other updates/random trivia:
I still have no internet at my homestay. And now my battery charger has decided not to work. Technology is the bane of my existence.
My dad came to visit this weekend and we walked and walked and walked. Paris is enormous. Also, Sunday is a very interesting day because at least half, perhaps three quarters, of the stores are closed. Walk to the next corner to get your baguette, you lazy bum. (Oh and the Parisians walk a lot a lot. And there are stairs EVERYwhere).
Notes on French domestics: the washers are smaller and there are no dryers. Europeans sleep not between two sheets under a comforter or blanket like most Americans, but on top of one sheet and under a kind of comforter that has a washable cover that you change like you change sheets. Oh and the pillows are square.
Everything is super efficient. My family has a thing that hangs on the wall that dispenses not only paper towels, but also tinfoil and saran wrap. And there are jump seats in the metro (you pull them down to sit on them) to save space and allow for more standing room in crowded situations. Again, why do we not have these things in the US?
I’m still having a great time, still missing everybody lots. Hope everything is going well at home despite bank failures.
A bientôt!

Ca commence...

I'm here! And it's crazy!
I got here Friday morning and made my way to the housing center by metro, which is a lot like the DC one, except it's like 3 times the size. Oh and you have to push a button to get the doors to open, apparently to save energy. And they have vending machines on the platforms.
I've mainly been doing the touristy things with a couple other people in my program: walking up the Champs-elysees, checking out Notre Dame, having a pique-nique at the Eiffel tower, walking, walking, walking. We've found a large ethnic neighborhood where everything is really cheap
I'm in a host family in the 10eme arrondissement, in the Northeast corner of Paris. It's pretty amazing, I have a host brother and sister at home in addition to my host parents. My room has a window that opens onto a beautiful courtyard, and although my window doesn't have flowers, most of those in the courtyard do, and my host father has a veritable jungle on one of his balconies. I've been talking to my family a lot. For example, the other night I explained the electoral college, which seemed to confuse the heck out of them. We also had a conversation yesterday at lunch about Crocs, which seem to have had a several year delay and are now coming over to Europe (one of the only things that was trendy in the US first--everybody here is very chic). My host mom thought they looked really comfortable, but her daughter was telling her they weren't classy. Her response was that she didn't need class for her shoes, she was a classy person whatever she wore.
As for the whole studying part, I took a language placement test this morning, have an oral interview tomorrow, and start my intensive French class on Wednesday. So more updates on that later, because we haven't been placed at our universities yet.

A few other things that have really struck me: they give you baskets of free bread at meals. I. Love. Bread.
I am an idiot, and though I know that the French 1st floor is our 2nd floor, the first two days I instinctively hit the 1 button on the elevator instead of the 0.
There are ads for English language lessons everywhere. And most people have at least a rudimentary command of English.
I need a lesson in French slang. They have this weird thing where they invert parts of words. So "American" becomes "ricain" and also "cainri"

More updates to come. Hopefully I'll figure out how to get my wireless to work at my host family's house and be a little more reachable. But continue to send me emails! I love hearing about what's going on at home!