1e dimanche du mois

Paris. Despite having spent a semester abroad here, many weeks visiting with my parents, and weekend or day trips visiting with friends, there somehow remains museums and other activities left undone.

While I have enjoyed the freedom of not being obliged to visit 4 museums in one day, or even to “see the sights,” I still want to take advantage of living in the city of light.

That said, things have gotten a lot more expensive in my life recently for two main reasons. First of all, Paris is just darn expensive. Second of all, according to the European Union, I am an old fart.

Paris public museums and monuments are free to residents of the European Union younger than 26 years old, and seeing how I’m now 26, I have to pay my way. Most places don’t even have student-discounted rates. Apparently by 26 years old, you should be done with that whole higher education thing.

Luckily, the city of Paris thinks that everyone should be able to enjoy its many wonderful museums, and so they are made free to the public the first Sunday of every month.

I’ve taken this opportunity to visit some lesser-known museums, including le musée des arts et métiers.

Filled with old timey science apparatuses, cars, planes, construction materials, and communication technologies, this museum is cool.


Science.
It also reinforced the notion of how I am no longer “young,” as it had on display items that were younger than I am (like an iPod).

To top it off, I overheard a young child asking his grandpa, “qu’est-ce que c’est grand père? (what is that, grandpa?)” pointing at a certain item of older technology on display in a glass case.

“ah, ça c’est un magnétoscope pour les VHS (ah, that's a VHS player).” But just stating what it was wasn’t enough. The grandpa had to continue to explain how at one point in time, that was how people watched movies at home.

Nevertheless, it was really cool to see old cars as well as old giant computers, and seeing how much technology has changed over the years made me excited for the future, even if I am "old" now.

Déodorant

Somehow, despite having lived in France for 4 and a half years (admittedly not consecutively), I have avoided up till now purchasing and using French deodorant. And no, I wasn’t just not wearing it! Somehow the deodorants that I’ve brought with me were enough to last.

I use solid deodorant, and I really made my last stick count. I was stabbing the weird plastic-y part at the end with a q-tip to ensure I got every last bit of use out of it. But, one can only put off the inevitable for so long, and so I ventured forth on the search for French deodorant.

Why was I going to such lengths to avoid French deodorant? Well, I have never seen deodorant in a solid form over here. They tend to prefer aerosols where you spray particles under your arms, or liquids.

Granted, I haven't done an extensive search, but as part of my on going quest to integrate into French culture, I decided to branch out.

While I know some of my fellow Americans use liquid deodorant, I never have. So faced with the unknown and my limited number of options, I went for something my compatriots use: liquid deodorant.


I hate it.

It’s wet. It stays wet. It takes eons to dry. If I’m running late and don’t give myself enough time to dry off, the underarms of my clothes get wet.

It’s cold, and I’m already cold in the mornings.

It’s slimy, and after application my underarms remind me more of frog skin than human skin.


My liquid déodorant, aka early morning torture.
I’m just glad I bought a travel size bottle.

However, my travel size solid deodorant lasted me 6 months... Looks like I’ll have to deal with cold, wet, slimy underarms for a while to come yet.

Update: thanks to my awesome readers, I was able to find solid déo!

Stage: le début.

For all my complaining about how unorganized my university is, how uncommunicative the professors and administration are, and how nobody ever seems to know what’s going on, I can at least now say that it has prepared me pretty well for the realities of being an intern in France.

After accepting the offer and settling on a starting date in December, come mid-January I still had no information about how my first day was going to be. This continued until the week before my start date, when I decided that I’d rather know than wait around. I called them to double check the starting date and find out what time I was expected. I then learned that I should be there at 9 in order to attend orientation.

While no further details were given, I was at least grateful to know this little tid bit. Knowing the first day was going to include an orientation calmed my nerves.

While I had them on the phone, I wanted to ask if it would be okay if I took an extra long lunch on Thursday in order to pick up the keys to our new apartment. However, they misunderstood me and thought I said lundi (not jeudi). That’s how I discovered that we were to be lunching with our bosses and other new interns on the first day.

I cleared up the confusion, but was glad that there was some otherwise I'm sure I would’ve been kept in the dark until jour j.

Just like orientation for the master, after my day of learning about the operations of the place, I still felt like I knew how nothing worked. We were not told if there was or wasn’t a strict time to come into the office. We had been told we’d learn how to use their time sheet software, but somehow or other it didn’t happen. I was told my desk would just be temporary, as they hadn’t found a place for me just yet. They then gave me a bunch of papers to read to play catch up on my project, and left me to figure it all out on my own.

Three weeks into it, I am getting the hang of things. I was able to figure out the time sheet situation mostly on my own, and as far as I can tell there are no future plans to change my desk.

I guess France is gonna be France. At least I get to look at this on the walk to the métro every day.


La Défense.

Goodbye Troyes

This Monday I will start my new internship in Paris and say goodbye to Troyes. While the unknowns before me do make this a stressful change, I will not be sad to leave, at least not in the way I was heartbroken to leave Lille.


Timbered houses in Troyes.
Troyes is a beautiful fairy tale miniature city. But whether it was because the university wasn’t actually in the city, or because I was less interested in the cultural opportunities, or because I’m less impressed with (the 9) medieval churches now that they’ve become the norm, I never made Troyes my city in the way that I did with Lille.

I don’t feel at home here like I did in the North. I felt certain that I wanted to get out of Troyes when I did my internship. However, when we walked to the library today to rent some DVDs, I couldn’t help remarking how beautiful this little city is. And how maybe if I’d been less of a homebody, it could’ve felt more mine.

While it’s been fun living in Champagne and drinking bubbly on the cheap (~13€/bottle!), I am ready for a new adventure.

So Goodbye fair city. I will miss the church view from my bedroom window, the small cobblestone streets and timbered houses, and my favorite pizza place. Thank you for a year and a half of discovery, hard work, and not distracting me too much from my studies. I’m sorry I didn’t get to know you as well as I should.

Until we meet again.

Liebster Award

A while ago I was nominated for a Liebster Award by one of my new blogger friends, Dana from As Told By Dana. I've been a bit lazy and the questions she asked were a bit personal so it's taken me a while to get around to it. Nevertheless, I present to you, the Liebster Award!


1. Why did you start blogging?

I started blogging because I wanted to remember every moment where I felt “French.” When French people mistook me for one of them, or I partook in a part of their culture, I wanted to share it. I quickly caught on to the fact that I’ll never be completely French, and now my blog talks more about how weird the French can be (and why I love it).

2. If you could go anywhere in the world, right now, where would you go, and why?

Southern California to spend time with my family and my pets, with a trip to where ever my brother currently is as well. I love to travel and go on adventures, but I have a lot more opportunities to do that than I do to go home and spend quality time with my family. Plus, I could use some good Mexican food.

3. If you had the chance to travel back in time or into the future, which would you pick, and what would you want to see/find out?

I would like to time travel to the future, as Benjamin Franklin said, “The rapid progress true science now makes occasions my regretting sometimes that I was born so soon.” I would love to see the progress humanity has made, not only technologically but also socially.

4. Apple or PC?

Apple. I have a macbook and an iphone.

5. How did we meet?

Through blogland!

6. What is your guilty pleasure?

Right now, it’s Les Ch’tis à Hollywood! I love me some bad French télérealité.

7. At my funeral, I want this song played:

I have thought very little about my funeral. I love Fiona Apple and her album The Idler Wheel is my favorite music so maybe that?

8. What do you think of when you hear, “Wisconsin?”

I think of my cousins. My dad’s sister and her family live in Wisconsin, but it might as well be another country. There are definitely cultural differences between us Californians and them Wisconsinites.

9. What is your favorite season and why?

I think that depends on which country I’m living in! In California, that would definitely be summer. I love spending my days at the beach and nights around a bonfire. In France, it is way too hot and humid in the summer for it to be my favorite. Winter is definitely too cold. I think it rains too much in the Fall, which leaves me with Spring. Spring is probably my favorite season in France because it’s starting to get warm again but it’s not yet humid. Although after writing this I’m coming to realize I might not be all that into this whole season thing, seeing as in Southern California we go from extremely nice weather to a little bit less nice weather during “winter.”

10. I never, ever, want to do this again:

Ride a vomit smelling bus.

11. What do you like most about yourself?

My enthusiasm and excitement about life. I’m a huge geek, love to reread Harry Potter (and read in general), dress up at theme parties, and play games. Sometimes France tries to stifle this part of me, but I really wouldn’t have it any other way, even if it means being a little bit too loud sometimes.


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And so I pass this award as well as the questions Dana posed onto some of my much deserving blogger friends:

Bread is Pain

Kaley... y mas

My Blondering Life

Chez soi.

Winter break was the second time I visited my parents in their new home. The first time I was accompanied by the boy and had so much to show him that nothing felt different, really. Yes, the house was new, but enough of the old pieces of furniture were there (including, as my dad said, “these old pieces of furniture” while referring to himself and my mom) that it still felt like home.

This trip was different. While only a thirty-minute drive away from my old house and my old neighborhood, it was far enough away. I didn’t visit the beach I grew up with. I only got to eat at a handful of my favorite places.

Some of this was due to the fact that my evil brother got me sick and ten days is already too short, but even still it felt more like visiting a new place than coming back to one I knew so well.

I didn’t feel the need to drive down to Beach Cities Pizza and taste the most-delicious-breadsticks-and-ranch-dressing-of-my-life first thing upon arrival, as has been the practice.

There was less urgency in the visit, maybe because I know I’ll come back again some day even if I don't know when. I was more interested in spending time with my family than hitting my old haunts (although I refused to leave California without having gone to the beach at least once).


Obligatory California Ocean sunset picture. The pacific ocean always feels like home.
Part of me can’t help wondering how much of that is due to the fact that France becomes more my home all the time. After summer vacation, I took more things with me to France than I brought back to California. I took things that I’d never taken before, thinking I’d be moving back "home" soon enough.

I still don’t think I’ll live in France for the rest of my life, but it doesn’t feel so temporary anymore. It would seem that France has become more than just my country of residence, even if I need my own personal stash of Cholula to stay sane here.

Deux Mille Treize

2013 went by way too fast with me way too busy getting my graduate degree to blog sufficiently. Here's a quick rundown of my year:

January
I finished my first semester of my masters with 7 finals, and started my five week inter semester break (can't complain about French vacation days). The boyfriend and I headed down to his hometown, Grenoble.


Grenoble, a city surrounded by beautiful mountains.
We also took a day trip to Geneva.

February
With vacation still in full swing, we headed north to Lille, Bruges, Delft, The Hague, Amsterdam, and Brussels.


Windmills in Zaans Schans, right by Amsterdam.
We got lost and eventually tasted the best beer in the world, too.

March
Second semester started and life got back to normal.

April
My aunt and uncle happened to be taking a trip to Paris, and I was able to meet up with them for two days. We had absolutely gorgeous weather and even went on a Paris by Mouth tour, where I got to taste delicious wine, cheese, and bread.


Poilâne bread, a Parisian specialty.
May
For Spring break, the boy and I headed back down to Grenoble. This time we went hiking in the mountains to see the Chartreuse monastery.


The monastery hidden among the mountains and fog.
June
Finished the first year of my masters program, and, yes, headed back down to Grenoble. This time I was able to see a glacier at Mont Blanc and tour Chamonix, a picturesque mountain village.


Chamonix, with a glacier in the background.
July
The boy and I flew all the way to my stamping grounds, California. We visited LA, San Diego, Santa Barbara, Carmel, San Francisco, Las Vegas, and my hometown. We drove up highway 1 with my folks to get the real American road trip experience, and by the end of it all I needed a vacation from my vacation. Luckily I got just that, an extra week home with nothing but family and R&R.


Las Vegas Blvd and the Golden Gate Bridge.
August
The boy and I moved into our new apartment, complete with a view of a medieval church.

September
And so began the second year of school, which is proving to be way more intense than the first. But even more importantly, I turned 26! I threw myself a pirate themed birthday party. It was awesome.

I was vaguely trying to find an internship for next semester, but with reassurances from professors that it was too early to look, wasn't too worried about it.

October
While missing out on yet another Halloween due to France's lack of enjoying candy while disguised, we did take advantage of the week off to go explore Italy, Alba to be exact. This little known village is surrounded by vineyards and is home to the allusive white truffle.


Alba.
I finally started applying to a ton of internships.

November
I celebrated American Thanksgiving with a wonderful group of people, and started to stress out about the lack of response to all of my internship applications. I started to apply to even more internships.

December
Bought my first ever French christmas tree!


Me, my Christmas sweater, and the tree.
Also finally had some positive answers to internship applications, and took a day trip to Paris for two interviews. Also, I got offered an internship! I can't wait for next semester.

I was also able to celebrate the holidays at home with my family, and so this year ended on a really happy note.

2013 is gonna be pretty hard to beat, but I think 2014's up for the challenge. Happy New Year everybody!!

Reverse Culture Tremors

I am currently at home in California for the holidays, and there is nothing better than spending Christmas with the family (especially if you get to go to Disneyland).


Disneyland Christmas lights and Sleeping Beauty's castle.
I thought coming back home would be an especially smooth transition seeing how I came home for a visit last summer, but nevertheless I forgot how we do things in California.

While the term shock seems a bit extreme, since I remembered almost immediately, "oh yeah things are different back home," they did take me by surprise. For this lighter, easier transition back to Americanness, the word tremor feels more fitting than shock.

Here is a list of my reverse culture tremor experiences:

1. Strangers are nice and ask you about your life.
My first interaction on American soil was with the border control police officer, and after asking me the required questions, he started to ask me how I liked going to school abroad, if it was very different from American schools, and if my classes were in French. A stranger hadn't asked me about my life since I'd been back in France.

2. Servers are way too friendly and involved in your eating experience.
Along the same lines, I went out to lunch with my parents and our server was just way to nice to us. Plus, the manager even came out and made sure we were having a good dining experience. It was a bit much, but very typical.

3. Tax is not included in the list price.
While at Disneyland, I wanted to buy their famous dill pickle. The list price was $2.99. I got out my five dollar bill and was expecting two dollars and a penny back. Imagine my surprise when suddenly the cost was $3.23! I had forgot tax is added after the fact in my homeland.

4. Things change.
Going back home, despite knowing better, I always think things are going to be just as they were before I left. This is of course not the case, and I was pretty surprised to learn that one of the local radio stations has changed names. Luckily, one thing always stays the same; my great family is always happy to have me home.

Wishing you all a Merry Christmas and a happy New Year! Hopefully cultural tremor free.

Thanksgiving: year five.

I have spent five consecutive Thanksgivings in France. It’s a hard holiday to miss out on, as any American expat can attest to. So, just like last year, I held a Thanksgiving potluck, complete with my recipes for green bean casserole, twice mashed potatoes, and stuffing. Another American friend brought candied yams, and the French participated by bringing bread, pumpkin pie, and cheesecake. My Russian friend even brought a Russian dish.


Thanksgiving dinner.
This year, the Thanksgiving potluck had less of the spirit of being thankful and felt more like a dinner among friends, but I’ll take it.

As seems to have become a tradition on my blog, here are 5 things I’m thankful for about my French life this year:

1. The French boy. He reads all my school papers and corrects all my grammar mistakes. He introduced me to many wonderful things about the Alps, like tartiflette and their vin blanc. He’s an amazing boyfriend and I’m so grateful to have him in my life.

2. Mes amis. I have met so many awesome people since moving to Troyes, and without them I’m sure this little town would be quite dull. I’m especially grateful for all the people in my masters program, who help keep me sane and deal with the ridiculous amount of projects we have.

3. Mon appartement. Despite the worrisome addition of bells in the church next door, which has yet to come to fruition, I love our new apartment. We are in the heart of the city, right next to a beautiful medieval church, with easy access to free parking, and to top it all off: my favorite Christmas time treat (les croustillons hollandais) are sold at the place (square) just out front! I’m definitely going to be gaining some weight this holiday season.

4. Voyager. This past year I’ve been able to visit a glacier, go wine tasting in Italy, and take a road trip in the Netherlands. All of which were made possible by new French boy’s car, so maybe that’s what I should really be thankful for? I love being able to travel and experience so many different cultures.

5. Thanksgiving. Sometimes it’s hard to remember why I chose to move away from my friends and family to a country that is quite disorganized and can be very frustrating. And while Thanksgiving is something super American, I am so grateful to get to celebrate this holiday. It helps me remember all the wonderful reasons why I do live in France.

Happy Thanksgiving, everyone!

Les Cloches

When looking for a new apartment to move into with the French boy for this last semester in Troyes, after several mediocre apartments, we walked into one where I had a coup de coeur (love at first sight).

It was luminescent. There was a puit de lumiere (a lightwell / a skylight) in the center of the building that provided light for the living room. The apartment was facing a little used street, and had beautiful big windows letting in even more light. There was even natural light in the toilet and bathroom, thanks to the puit de lumiere.

In Troyes, while the medieval timbered houses are charming, they let in little light. To finally find an apartment, in the city center, on a pedestrian street, with this amount of light was exceptional. But it wasn’t only the light.

Looking out of the living room windows, the neighbor’s beautifully kept flower garden was visible.


Chez les voisins.
The kitchen came complete with an oven. The living area was huge, with an archway. There were two bedrooms, each with a view of the neighboring medieval church.


l'eglise as seen from the bedroom window.
And there lay the problem. Churches in France aren’t simply for Sunday morning service. They are for all the time. Church bells ring for the hour on the hour, and some even ring every 15 minutes.

I knew this though, and so I asked our realtor straight away if this particular church came with ringing bells. She assured me it did not.

Totally enamored by the apartment, we signed the lease.

After living here for about two weeks, while reading the local newspaper, the Frenchboy had some bad news. The newspaper announced that they were going to be putting bells back into the church next door.