Thinking

Today, I climbed and ate an incredible Indian meal. And afterwards, my host family even let me watch a movie in English.

It was awesome.

Tomorrow: Mont St. Michel and St. Malo.

LOST SHOES. PLEASE HELP.

Of all the stupid things I have done in my life (and they are numerous), I have to say, taking physics in France is pretty near the top of the list.The people at my institute knew exactly what they were doing when they placed me with a psychologist host-mother.

This is going to be traumatic. But in that slightly hilarious way.

What is more traumatizing is the fact that I lost my $140 climbing shoes. Has anybody seen a virtually brand new pair of Dragons?!?! AHh... fml.

Currently listening to...

Not an interesting video, but a good song. Even for those of us who generally prefer Ike and Tina Turner to Wilco.

I heard it on Dooce.

Things I have realized since being France

1. I should start listening to more classical music. This is a frequent conversation in my house:

(Host father turns on classical music, and says to me): 'Tu le connais?'

Me: Uhhh... non.

Him: AH! C'est Beethoven!

How embarassaing.

2. I should really read more. Like, really.

3. My dad was right all along. Dang.

Thinking

Today, my host brother and sister and I finally bonded over Kill Bill, Vol. 1.

You know that saying, "All people smile in the same language"? Not true. All people enjoy Uma Thurman in a yellow spandex jumpsuit and copious amounts of blood in the same language.

How I feel every time I try to speak French.

(Large man, me, Kadidia, Cody)

On Why the French Will Kick My Ass

Today, I marched over to the sports area of campus, signed up for the rock climbing class, and then after class, headed out with my friend Timmy to climb.

And this is where the story goes downhill. So...

1. Timmy and I walk 30 minutes to the climbing wall, and realize we've walked to the wrong gym (the actual gym was on the other side of Nantes.)

2. Timmy and I realize we can take a bus, so we re-walk the 30 minutes, and then rush to catch the bus as it's leaving. Of course, by rushing, we almost get run over by another bus going the opposite direction.

3. Timmy and I laugh about how funny it would be if we were the Americans that got killed by a bus.

4. 15 minutes later, Timmy and I realize we're on the right bus going the wrong direction. The right bus going the right direction? Was the bus that almost ran us over.

5. Finally get on the right bus, some 30 minutes later. Get off at the right place (finally) and follow some random dudes carrying chalk bags.

When we got to the gym, we realized that the French open climb? Is a class designed for training, no matter your level. Immediately, we were doing crunches, planks and pretty much every abdo- workout there is. Then our instructor had us climbing problems he designed, problems we designed, the works. Then: more abdominals.

And as was the theme for the day, Timmy and I were the unfortunate Americans who a.) didn't know where they were b.) weren't necessarily prepared ( I was wearing a skirt and Timmy had never climbed before) and c.) had almost gotten killed on the way to class. I think the instructor felt sorry for us.

I think I've gone soft living in Iowa, where pretty much whenever someone wants to climb, they go up twice and call it good. In Colorado, it's intense, but more relaxed. You climb how you want. But here? Here, I am getting my ass handed to me, left and right.

I am that American that doesn't understand, that isn't as strong, isn't as well dressed, and oh right, almost dies every time she crosses the street.

Voulez-vous couchez avec moi...?

(Left to right: Cody, Angela, Carolyn and me at the beach in Ile-aux-Moines.)

When I was in Nepal, it was always blatantly obvious that you were a foreigner. Whether or not you could speak Hindi didn't matter, because by being almost 6 ft. tall and white made you stick out like a sore thumb. There was never any pretending to be Nepali, because you couldn't.

In that respect, living and interacting in France is almost more difficult. The students that I'm with (myself included) are in this strange conundrum of blending in with the outside world, and wanting to blend in, but at the same time, being almost certain that you can't. You forget that you can understand and speak French. But you can.

Last night, my friends and I went to a hookah bar, and then out to dinner (where I ordered a bloody steak--like, blood was actually gushing out) and then to a carnival. Let me just tell you, the French do not joke around with their rides. The rides go on for a good 10-15 mintues, and are 3x more terrifying than any ride in the US. I spent most of the ride worrying about whether or not my harness was double-backed.

Afterwards, we walked to an area of town called Bouffay, where we bought two bottles of wine (which together? was cheaper than the small bottle of sunscreen I had bought earlier.) Bouffay was bumpin' and we spent most of the night in nice cafe called,' Le Petit Coin,' named after a toilet. About midnight, when we were all slightly worried about how we were going to get home, we headed out. As I live fairly close to town, I headed up the cobblestones to walk through the plazas and home.

On the way home, I passed a window, out of which someone was blasting, 'Lady Marmalade,' by Pink, Christina Aquilera and others. I also passed three teenage boys puking in a corner.

It was a good night.

Thinking

The bamboo patch outside my window is rustling. And the drunks in the street are cackling.

Yeah, France. You're weird.

When in France....

SO. I arrived in France almost a week ago. I've met my host family, made new friends, gone to the beach, ridden bikes all over an island...virtually done every stereotypical thing there is to do in France.

And all I've learned so far is: Le Francais ees berry deefeecult.

Seriousement.

I arrived in Paris, at the Charles de Gaulle airport (which, btw, is not as a fabulous of an airport as Hong Kong. You want a good airport? Hong Kong. All I'ma say,) and met my friend Esther for coffee in one of the poorer arrondissements. Afterwards, I borded a train towards Nantes, and had a very interesting 3 1/2 hrs. with the Cambodian boy next to me. We mostly discussed money and his pinstriped suit. It was l'adorable.

When I arrived in Nantes with the 5 billion other IES students, we were taken to our Institut, which is located in a 19th century building, and is gorgeous. Our families picked us up, one by one--something very similar to toddlers picking out their first puppy at the pound--and we were whisked away to these random people's houses, where undoubtedly, a very awkward conversation ensued.

My family, Veronique, Jeffrey (pronounced 'Jeff-wah') and their children Claire and Jacques are beautiful, own an aborable little house, and are apparently very well read. Veronique is a psychologist, Jeffwah deals with finances, Claire just turned 17 and Jacques is a nicer version of my own 14-yr.old brother. We talked about Asia, religion, politics, Equus, and the role of psychology in France. And let me tell you: my French hasn't been as good this entire trip as it was that night. If ever there was a night to be on, that was it. That was probably my peak; I'm sure it's all downhill from here.

The next day, IES took all the students immediately on an orientation trip to see Bretagne (Brittany.) We stayed in a very expensive hotel in Vannes, were served incredible meals every day, and were driven on buses all over the countryside (meaning Ruth was tres, tres carsick.) We visited Ile-aux-Moines, and rented bikes to ride all over the island. We saw Rochefort-en-Terre, and drank wine and looked at all the roses. And we even went to a Festival de Huitres, or Fesitval de Oysters (50 cent fresh oysters cooked with pesto? Oh. Yes.)

Over the course of these 3.5 days, I made good friends with a girl named Leah, from Kentucky, a boy named Cody, from Ohio, and two other girls, Kadidia (AKA K.Diddi, from Manhatten) and Kelsey (from god-knows-where.) Leah and I were roomates and the four of us spent a lot of time riding bikes, eating, drinking, walking into town--hell, Cody and Leah even stood guard while I peed on the wall surrounding Vannes! I'm really grateful to have made these friends so quickly, though I'm not quite sure how much of them I will see in the weeks to come.

Well. We will just see.