Feb. 27: Carnavalesque

                                 Hello!

I’ve reached a decision about the two January posts that I haven’t written: they won’t be. I will post pictures (once I figure out a way to do so) of the trip to the Grand Canyon that I took with Dad, and the first week of school… well,I’m not sure about that one, but at some point I’ll discuss it. xD

So, I’ve had two weeks off from school and today is the LAST DAY! I’m, as always, a bit torn about this, as I want to go back to school [more French and less Monkey] but I really didn’t do much this break. Hopefully that will be remedied for the next break!

February 27th was one of those all-around-GOOD days that probably tops the list of favorite days in France. I’m certain it’ll stay up there, it was that good.

The mascot for this Carnival in Nice is the frog on top of the world, though my favorite giant balloon is the bird. But it’s all so COLORFUL!

You know what "Mardi Gras” is (“Fat Tuesday”), the beginning of Lent and all that, and it’s called Carnaval here (and I think most places, except in England it’s Pancake Day). I didn’t actually go to Carnaval on Fat Tuesday, but luckily Carnaval in Nice goes on for quite a while—Feb. 12 to 28th. The website is here if you want to go check it out and see a bit of video from the official DVD.

Confetti! Color! Sunshine! Happiness! … Carnaval-esque spirit!

I woke up late, but that wasn’t a big deal, since it’s vacation! Nathalie made Quentin and I “tartines” for breakfast, followed by sandwiches for lunch.

The drive there was uninteresting; Nathalie kept exclaiming about the Alps in the distance, capped by snow… they were pretty. Unfortunately, taking pictures out of the front window is a bit annoyingly difficult, as by the time I tug out my camera and such, the view is gone. It’s also hard to capture the true beauty of it; a beautiful, warm day near the sea while you can still see snow in the distance. It’s a novelty for me; the contrast of landscape so close to home.

Still in Fréjus, but you see: flat. Then, mountains in distance! WITH SNOW!

This view is great, and it’s a shame that the road is RIGHT THERE. Do you see how different it is from Fréjus?

When we arrived in Nice, it was filled with people, and it was just after 1. It was absolutely impossible to find a place to park, between the over-crowded streets and confusing one-way streets. It was even worse than when Dad and I went to Nice, as this time portions of streets were blocked off for Carnaval, there were people everywhere, and the parking areas were filled.

We wasted quite a long time trying to find a place to park, but eventually we squeezed between two other cars in the French style of parking (back up into spot; move forward until you hit the car in front of you. back up, hit the car behind. settle into the middle and thank goodness for small cars!). At last, we were near the gates of the Flower Parade, but we didn’t have tickets. (Here, you have to pay to get in). The line by the ONLY remaining ticket booth was HUGE, so we just got into the back. Nathalie chatted with some strangers (people in Southern France are like Americans in that way), while I was distracted by people-watching.

Unfortunately, the ticket stand CLOSED within 10 minutes of us arriving. We joined the MAD RUSH of people to get in, and somehow I managed to slip past the people at the gate with a smile, as did Quentin. Nathalie was locked out, but kept insisting that we go.

These are later on in the day—office of tourism with BIG HUGE carnaval-head on top and the boulevard by the beach.

“Do you have your cell phone?” she asked from behind the barricade of Security People (that’s hardcore).

“Yes,” I replied. I was really nervous, and Quentin was acting like he wanted to go back out. I was mostly scared that they wouldn’t let Nathalie in, that I wouldn’t be able to find her afterwards, and that we would have come all the way to Nice and NOT see the parade.

Flowers! All over! And pretty dresses.

“I’ll call you afterwards; now, go watch the parade! Quentin, go with Aly.”

(GRANTED THIS WAS IN FRENCH.)

So, with Nathalie’s insistence, I joined the crowd and began taking pictures. I eventually moved further and further towards the center, but lost my place as I was jostled or pushed back. The sun was right in my eyes, which was an unpleasant side effect. The crowd was huge, but generally didn’t push or shove you. Some of them wore strange hats, and being short, I was doing a lot of STRETCHING and attempting to avoid taking pictures of the other people.

I didn’t even try not to take a picture here—this is to show the guys selling silly string and confetti and the mimosa.

See what I was up against?!

Finally, I found a good place to rest… until I heard my phone vibrating insistently in my bag. I had shed my outer layer (wool coat), and that was sitting in the top of my purse, keeping me from zipping it closed. Besides the fact that is a BAD IDEA (pickpockets?!), I wasn’t that concerned… because I couldn’t even get into the depths of my bag to find the tiny cell phone!

I guess this is like tight-rope-walking, except it’s on railing, the other side being a bit of sidewalk, and then the beach.

I called Nathalie back a minute later, but since I couldn’t hear, I had to back out into the moving line of people, all searching for a place. Fighting against the flow, I made my way back to the entrance where Nathalie had been locked out, all while brushing off the confetti-rain that had covered me during my journey.

Soon, we made our way back into the crowd, slowly working our way back to were I was, which had been filled in by other people by then. We kept moving, eventually stopping near an open section of the blue-painted plywood fence, where Quentin and I climbed up to rest precariously on the top next to other kids (some older, some younger). We watched the parade go around three times in total, so I have doubles of pictures—each is slightly different, due to the change in position and light.

For example, this is what happens when I don’t pay attention to lighting. Unfortunate looking-into-the-sun position during the parade.

 …Same float as above, except you can actually see it this time.

Since I don’t actually have pictures of myself that Nathalie took at Carnaval, here’s a picture I took of myself while sitting up on the fence. Euhhh, let’s pretend it’s more flattering than it is.

I never caught the mimosa (not the drink; that’s what they call the flowers) that they were throwing, as well as the other flowers off the float, leaving some of the floats looking a bit scraggly, I assume after so many days of running the parade.

Towards the end of the parade, we finally got towards the fence at the front. The promenoirs (the people walking in the parade) were tired by then, but still kept those well-practised smiles on their faces. I decided to say hi, so I waved crazily and yelled “BONJOUR” at them with a big smile. My dedication was rewarded with a hug from Death and later, a dude in a shaggy-scarecrow-ragdoll outfit. Oh, and the guys on stilts wearing all red, flame-like clothing tried to intimidate me while I laughed hysterically.

 

 

 

The parade at night was better—the same atmosphere, but a different parade. We had seats right on the street, so Quentin and I kept jumping up with our confetti and silly string to attack each other, the floats, the promenoirs, and of course the people behind us—oh, carnival! (All of those things are normal and do not induce anger.) The same shaggy-scarecrow-ragdoll people picked me out of the crowd and pulled me into their group for dancing and a bit of revelry. That moment, the reluctant me dancing with a crowd of Carnival people—best. ever.

       

When we finally left Nice, it was late into the night; the way home was quick, and quiet until I broke the silence by saying STAY AWAKE! to Nathalie.

Carnival in Nice, overall: definitely amazing, and even now, months later, I remember it all in so much detail. Add it to your bucket list! :D

-Aly

Trips to McDonalds: 6

Guest Post: Insaf sur Les Etats-Unis

Hello, everybody!

I have a special treat today! Hopefully this will make up for yesterday's shortcomings...

In lieu of starting my one long-overdue vacation post and my newer ones, today I bring you a GUEST POST! My friends Insaf has a blog (c'est en français), and we've agreed to exchange guest posts. I'll write mine for her (in French, of course), and she has written one for me. Without further ado, I bring you Insaf's guest post with my translations into English. Enjoy!
*****
Les études consacrées aux représentations européennes des Etats-Unis sont nombreuses :
The devoted studies of the European representations of the United States are numberous:

elles concernent bien des disciplines et se partagent le plus souvent entre l’analyse d’une fascination...
they affect the discipline and share themselves most often with the analysis of a fascination...

et celle d’une répulsion.
and one of repulsion.

D'un côté, les Etats-Unis est vu comme un pays où tu as toutes tes chances d'atteindre les sommets:
on nomme cela le "rêve américain",cette idée selon laquelle n'importe quelle personne vivant aux États-Unis , par son travail et sa détermination, peut devenir prospère et importante.

On one side, the United States is seen as a country where you have all the chances to reach the heights
we name those the "American dream", this idea according to the one any person living in the United States, by their work and their determination, can become prosperous and important.

Ce pays semble si mystérieux et passionnant vu D'Europe. Un pays où tout semble possible, un pays à part. Le pays le plus riche, le plus grand, le plus important, tout le monde souhaite y mettre les pieds un jour. New-York et ses bâtiments; Central Park..., Los Angeles et ses stars, le Texas et ses cow-boys, Miami et ses plages, Las Vegas et ses casinos, San franscisco et son pont rouge ... font rêver et intrigues.

That country seems so mysterious and fascinating seen from Europe. A country where all seems possible, a country apart. The country that is the richest, the biggest, the most important; everybody wishes to set foot there one day. New York and its buildings, Central Park..., Los Angeles and its celebrities, Texas and its cowboys, Miami and its beaches, Las Vegas and its casinos, San Franscisco and its red bridge... create dreams and intrigue.

Mais les Etats-Unis sont aussi souvent perçu comme étant un pays où les inégalités règnent, où les
gens n'ont pas d'hygiène de vie, toujours en train de faire la fête et de ne pas manger sainement,la
gastronomie n'étant pas leur point fort ... (mc'do par là, mc'do par si ^^).

But the United States are also often seen as though to be a country where inequality reigns, where the people do not have a healthy lifestyle, always trying to have parties and not eat healthfully, the cuisine is not their strong point.... (always McDonald's ^^).

Le chômage est élevé, le système de santé est incompréhensible (même si un homme censé vient
de changer cela) ,

les gens sont virés de leur maison comme des mal-propres, les bavures policières
sont trop souvent présentes, l'obesité est un problème de santé qui touchent beaucoup de gens
telle est la vision péjorative qu'ont une majeure partie de la population Française.

The unemployment is high, the health care system is incomprehensible (even if one man is supposed to change that), the people are evicted from their homes like garbage, the police brutality is too often present, obesity is a health problem which touches many people is a major part of the belittling view of the French.

Les Etats-Unis possède donc nombre de qualités et de défauts et reste donc un pays comme les autres !

The United States possesses, therefore, a number of qualities and defects and stays therefore a country like the others!

*******

Okay, guys, so there you have it! The thoughts of a French girl about us. What do you think? Any responses?

And, what do you think of more guest posts? Tell me! :D

<3,

-Aly

Happy 22nd...

Hello!

Happy Earth Day! I hope you hugged a tree today.

Other than Earth Day, today marks four months here.

Like many of the previous 22nd's, I was joyous and hopeful about today. Four months. Milestone.
But like the rest of them, the 22nd has bad timing. I had it all figured out during the last two weeks, and I was living what I wanted. I can back here, thought a lot, and discovered how very difficult it is to get back into the swing of things. And today, of course, was a complete downward spiral to this moment, right now.

*hugs pillow tightly*

You guys, France used to be that place in my mind where I'd go to looking for escape. I "escaped" to here, changed my life and I've been changing. But home is that place now. Homehomehome. Only 2 months to go and I know I can make it through, but at moments like THIS....

I shouldn't be spending this evening bawling my eyes out. But I really can't stop myself right now.

I miss you guys so much. Can you apparate over here now? Or can I just *pop* over there?

(on the bright side, I sent postcards today! 10. That brings the count down to 16, so you may want to get on that if you want a postcard. I'll be sending another stack next week sometime.)

-Aly
*goes back to hugging pillow and thanking the vacation hosts for all the kleenex*

NOTE: (later)
Okay, so French friends are awesome, I love them, and that cry was probably long overdue. I'm feeling much better now, so please go over the MAlly Chat and read the post I wrote YESTERDAY which is a much more accurate what's-up-with-me lately post. Sorry for the fail, but I still won't deny any hugs.

J-0!

COUCOU!

I'm just popping in for a moment before going to bed. J-0 is "Jours: 0" in the countdown until vacation. That is to say, I AM ON VACATION! Again.

I'm going to Bordeaux and Toulouse-- leaving tomorrow at 10:20 from Saint Raphael for my connecting trains (stop in Marseilles) to Bordeaux, and returning late the 17th from Toulouse. I'm super-excited!

I packed in one bag (curious about how I managed that?) with room to spare. I'm not exactly sure what I'll be doing, but I'm not bringing my computer-- it's heavy and in this way, I'm cutting myself off from wasting my exploration time on the computer, likely speaking in English. I'm fully immersing myself for two weeks; wish me luck!

Hope you all are having a week, because mine has turned out to be pretty great!
♥,
-Aly

It's the Americans

Hello!

I am perfectly aware that I haven't posted about Carnaval yet. You can't blame me! I want to do it justice, and by doing it justice, I am including so many details that you should be able to FEEL the excitement pouncing on you from France. Though the 717 pictures to choose from certainly don't hurt. So, WHEN I post it, it will be MASSIVELY LONG and probably take you hours to read. But you don't mind, right?!

This is another one of those real-time blog updates! As usual, I'm posting this about the time that I need to rant about my life here.

As a pretext for this, let me explain that the past two weeks have been rough. We didn't have internet here for a chunk of last week, and I'm an internet junkie (and so is Nathalie), so things here were frustrating. Beyond that, I haven't really done anything with any of my friends here for awhile.

Thus begins the rant.

If you don't know, I'm a very huggy person. I'm one of those annoying people that will hug you for longer than you're used to, and I may even attempt to hug you so hard that you can't breathe. My friends at home are used to this, and happen to be the same way. Even better, I'm so close with them that I can literally lean on them whenever I want (or need) to. Although "hug-training" has gone well (largely thanks to the fact that my friend Nolwenn is a similar huggy-person), I still slip into my normal, hug-addict self with the friends I've become closer to. Unfortunately, I sometimes get the always-fun reaction of people being kind of rude about it-- pushing me away, shrugging me off, or just generally spazzing out. It shouldn't upset me, but it does a little. I become embarrassed, I feel silly, and I feel snubbed. It's just not fun.

That brings me to my second point. I never wanted to see 8th grade again, because I had the worst experience with friends in 8th grade (though I came out of it well enough, with some wonderful friends that I love dearly). I've said before that I love the Frenchies, and they DO prove themselves to be awesome, but it's still not quite THERE. It's not quite there to the point that they make plans in front of me and don't include me in them.

I'd like to pretend that it's because they think I don't understand them, but let's be honest... I've been here for 3 months. It's apparently not rude to invite yourself along (whatwhatwhat?) but I AM SO SOCIALLY AWKWARD and I have warning bells in my head telling me that is a bad idea.

Worse, I don't have the guts to say something when I'm not happy. I don't want to offend somebody (maybe it's normal to only hang out with your family? Uhm, all the time?), or maybe they think I'm doing something (ha!), but it wouldn't hurt to ASK, right? I mean, generally, if you want somebody to be there, don't you just ASK THEM ALONG? Because not being invited me along makes me feel like I couldn't matter less. I'm good for laughs (make me say cuss words in French! it's hilarious! *sarcasm*), but I'm starting to feel like I'm just the "school friend" of too many people.

(I'm still trying though! I AM STILL TRYING. I AM NOT GIVING UP. I'm working on making plans for this weekend, and a few of the more-wonderful Frenchies seem to have picked up on my mood-- Nolwenn, my fellow hug-addict, made a subtle point of giving me bajillions of hugs yesterday. I was feeling particularly glum and I REALLY needed some good hugs. Once school was over, I told Camille about the fact that I was tired of spending so much time alone and can we PLEASE PLEASE plan something for as soon as possible-- and now plans are in the works for this weekend. As well as a few other unexpected-by-still-awesome people picking up on my need for social interaction... it'll be okay.)

That wasn't truly a rant. I guess those are both things you should know (besides the fact that sometimes, I miss home so hard that I want to cry; that's not particularly new, either).

You may not know this, but I've never considered myself to be outstandingly patriotic. I'm an optimist, sure (though I guess you couldn't tell sometimes by the tone of these posts...), but I know that we have a LOT of problems to sort out. Big problems, and less important ones, but problems none-the-less, and so many that I hesitate to claim pride in the country I call home, but haven't felt that GREAT about being a citizen of the US. I have loved France so long-- idealized it; the superior education system, the relaxed attitude about a multitude of things, and of course, the language.

Since being here, I'm still as in love with France as ever (and the language). I wasn't right about all these things (in some of my experiences), but yet... France has something going for it. These people (all of them that I have met)... they ALL seem to love their country. I can't really explain it, but their entire attitude (during the Winter Olympics, for football [the soccer kind], the fact that they all know the national anthem by heart...) just tells me that they are so PROUD to be French. It makes me want to be proud of my country.

But, you guys, it's really hard to be proud of your country when you're in a foreign country where you hear a TEACHER insulting your country to your face while your classmates stare at you. It's really hard to smile and laugh it off, when you're thinking that you don't want to be American if it means being all these horrible things, when you feel the eyes on you and these people you want to like you judging you based on the fact that you happen to be from the US, and you're probably one of the few Americans they've met. It really sucks to be American when you realize that yes, some of the things they say are true, and that maybe-just-possibly-they-believe-these-things-are-true-of-YOU.

This isn't to say the French hate us; in fact, they seem to like us well enough (but they loooove Obama in general, as well as American pop culture)... but some of them seem to blame us for everything wrong in the world. And it is really quite awful to be the subject of such a sentiment. I leave History far too often, after learning something I already know, and hearing yet-another insult about my country, feeling worn down and in desperate need of a hug. I laugh it off, and joke about it, but I still feel the sting of the insult.

Is it too much to ask to be proud of my country? Just once, can't we do something that isn't going to bring about world destruction, or isn't supporting something awful? Is it impossible to recognize that we are NOT THE ONLY country to blame for some international problems (such as Climate Change... did you realize that we are the only country in the world that pollutes?! THE ONLY ONE, YOU GUYS. *more sarcasm*), and that there are worthwhile things that come out of the United States? That maybe we aren't all religious-driven, brain-washing bullies with a twisted mind bent on making everybody else just like us?

I want to be proud to be an American. I know we have problems; but we aren't the only ones. I just don't want to be judged on the stereotypes and mistakes of my country. So, yes, Frenchies, I am an American.

Rant over!

In other news, I have to actually participate in school now. We're starting real Physics in Physique, and it is SO MUCH MORE COMPLICATED HERE. I didn't think that it could make less sense than it did before, but somehow they manage with the simplest concepts of Physics (force diagram! how is that DIFFERENT here?). I've been having to do French tests; my French teacher was surprised to discover that I can write in French, and I think his new goal is to make me write in French verb tenses I don't know as often as possible. I hope it'll work; I'll let you know. I had an English test today-- it was the easiest test ever, and I kind of loved it. Other than the fact that I don't know what the heck a "preterit" is or "irregular verbs" in English (wait, we HAVE those?!?!). I mean, I know the verbs, I just don't know the funky specifics like that-- I've never learned English like this.

Okay, that's all for now!

Hope you guys are doing well, enjoying life, and such!
-Aly

Les Vacances

Hello!

I’ve got a HUGE post in the works to share about one of the best days in France (last Saturday), but I have other pictures and such to share!

(Sorry about this picture… didn’t have a tripod, wanted to have a picture of myself at Malpasset, and I used the self-timer, and then hopped over rocks…)

So, the vacation was two weeks long. The weather was generally crappy the whole time, though I did explore a little bit… and watch too much TV (Allez, Amerique!~ les jeux olympiques d’hiver et LOST sur “l’ordi”; Go, America! ~ the Winter Olympic games and LOST on the computer. “l’ordi” is the slang for “l’ordinateur.” ).

I had made plans (or attempted to), but let’s be honest… us lycéens, both French and American, did not do a good job of making plans. My first Sunday of break was spent with Nathalie, her friends Stephanie and Christophe as well as two of their kids, exploring Malpasset. It was a beautiful day, and I took far too many pictures.

(The link below leads the the source of both pictures; it’s in FRENCH, but you can find about it. As always, click the pictures for the full-size image.)   Malpasset before and after.

Malpasset is a valley near Fréjus were a dam broke in 1950; Dad and I saw the memorial for those who died in the catastrophe before he left (it’s right by the Roman arena). 423 people died or disappeared, and it was the worst such disaster to ever occur in France.

Anyway, the remains are still there, and you can tell where it flooded down the valley… there are huge stones everywhere, and despite the tragedy of it, it’s rather breathtaking. It’s now a park where people can walk/hike, but they ask you to be respectful.

 

 

(The first is the sign; the insert is a bigger version of the text translated into English.)

It was clear and beautiful, and the stroll was through a lovely (sparse) forest, and the landscape—rocky hills similar to the Gorges of Verdon—was striking. The above map shows the area. It wasn’t a long “hike” but I enjoyed it, running around in the sunshine!

The trail on the way there.

(Sorry about all the weird contrast and colors! And the excessive amounts of photos…)  

Do you see what I mean about striking?

I didn’t realize I had taken pictures of my travel companions (that I can post on the internet, I think. There aren’t faces and one is a dog. There’s some super strict law about images on the internet in France.) First one is Nathalie hiking up a hill, and the second is Benji by the water.

 

When we actually got to the Dam, I make my way slowly across the side of the mountain (covered in huge rocks and pieces of the broken dam) until I climbed up onto the dam itself, joining a select number of similar-minded daredevils.

 

Unfortunately, I don’t actually have pictures of this (Stephanie does, and maybe I’ll ask if I can have a digital copy of them, because I was just standing up there looking pleased with myself), though I do have pictures of the view from the top!

(These [below] aren’t it… the pictures of the view from the top were mostly looking down, not so much out… and the picture of me was again with the camera-sans-tripod-plus-timer! I was terrified that I would drop it or it would fall and break.)

  

Things like the above made it hard to cross the stream; I clambered across and then had to help with the transport of the two little boys’ bikes.

I’m including this one despite the fact you can see the boy; again, you can’t see his face clearly so I hope it’s alright. I just want to show how HUGE these bits of dam/rocks are. The boys could stand up to full height in the tunnel under the bigger.

 Again… self-timer, rocks… But you can kind of see the Dam in the background of this one!  

Finally, I came back down and we slowly made our way back over hills to the cars, ignoring the path in favor of walking across sparse brush. :)The next big adventure of break with the exception of Carnaval was shopping in Cannes. I don’t have pictures of shopping itself, nor the train ride, but I have a few from the beach where mes copaines (“copain” is different than “ami” in that an ami is a close friend, while  a copain  is more of an acquaintance) and I hung out when we were finished shopping.

   

I don’t get it; this seems to be the “cool” thing to do for teenagers, but I didn’t find it to be particularly interesting. The train ride was the most exciting part (13e for round-trip, but I don’t remember if we had some sort of reduction), but I’m glad I got to see the “rest” of Cannes.

But seriously. Cannes is typical commercialization, and it reminded me of how Nice was nice for shopping. Dad and I really didn’t miss out on anything by skipping over it on that trip along the coast. Cannes is famous for the film festival, and it’s a really ritzy area—yachts galore, a long boulevard along the coast, spacious sandy beaches, lots of people, as well as high-end boutiques.

Yet again, the experience was good, as well as the exposure to “teenage” culture (the girls I went with are in troisième, which is in “college” [middle school equivalent, 4 years instead of 3]; AEU, they would be in 9th grade), though it was significantly awkward due to the fact that I only knew one of them.

They didn’t make much of an effort to include me, and I felt like I was being dragged along for the sake of proving how very kind and welcoming the one girl I knew is. I hated that, and I felt like a tag-along the entire time, hanging out with girls that I wasn’t comfortable with, whose names I didn’t learn until it was over (not that I could tell them apart anyway, as they ALL LOOKED THE SAME TO ME. It was scary!).

[Sorry, that was a bit harsh, blog readers; I’m still a bit miffed about this outing. I trust people so easily, and when I feel like I’m being used, it dashes my opinions of people. I don’t want to be a fashionable accessory or an addition to someone’s collection of foreign friends. End rant, though I will always have more to say about this.]

SIDE NOTE: … There are a total of three pictures of me from this shopping trip, and I honestly don’t like any of them. (Though I would post them anyway.) They’re posed and not like me, and I hate that. These are on facebook, but I will not put them on here. (Besides that law thing. So you get pictures of Cannes, though I took quite a few pictures of a flock of sailboats, which intrigued me. xD)

What I learned, though, is that I have ISSUES with shopping, which are only enflamed by similar shopping trips. It more or less goes against lots of the things I believe in (for example, shopping is bad for the environment, what with transportation and the environmental impact of mass-production, combined with the wasteful ways of the industry & the consumers). I enjoy shopping with real friends, and I’m more likely to enjoy it at Goodwill, where I don’t feel like a selfish and wasteful person.

The sad thing is, I will continue to join in on shopping trips here, because it is a social activity. It gets me out of the house, exposes me to more French language and sights, as well as the opinions and behaviors of French teenagers outside of the school environment. Maybe sometime the shopping won’t be a burden, and hopefully I can figure out where the thrift stores are around here, as those are infinitely more amusing (and cheaper).

-Aly

P.S. Picture count from the vacation:

Malpasset: 218
Carnaval: 718
Everything else: 50

[Trips to McDo’s/Quick count: 5 ]

Honesty

Hello!

If I'm going to be completely and utterly honest here (I am), I haven't been working on the posts from last month. I do have things to share-- little anecdotes of my first weeks of school and life here, my day of awesome with Dad in the mountains, interesting things I've learned-- but I really haven't been working that hard on drafting the posts that will include such things.

For one thing, yes, I am busy. I do have quite a bit of time off, but I fill the time living (this includes time on the computer, because that's part of daily life); I may not always be using my time productively, but as with life everywhere else, life here has its "ups and downs."

Yesterday was definitely one of those days, and I have struggled with similar sentiments periodically since Dad left and throughout the course of this past week. It makes me uncomfortable to admit this, but sometimes I just want to pack up and go home. In those moments, it seems like it would be the easiest solution, but I know (as do you) that it is not. If I come to you in those moments, rant in hand and asking for an internet-hug and tell you that I want to give up, kindly send the hug, listen to the rant, and slap some sense into me.

It's easy to forget when you are alone in a place you're not fully comfortable with that you are there for a purpose, and you aren't as alone as you would like to believe. I have this problem a lot-- sometimes, I am paralyzed and tormented by the thought that I don't really have somebody here that I can completely, effortlessly confide in. I struggle with the separation from people I now realize have been like security blankets: whose company I seek out at any moment when I have a chance, who make me a better person and keep me smiling. This is normal, and I didn't realize it would be quite like that. That's the nature of the thing, though, and recognizing that I have to be my own person is vital.

That isn't to say that I don't have friends here. People I will push away sometimes, or seek out; these friendships are still in the beginning stages where I still don't know that much about each individual, but I consider to be friends all the same. The language barrier is a problem; I can't always understand everything they're talking about, or the context of the conversation. I can't always reply and I am, in fact, quite socially awkward, so placed in a situation where I would have to come up with a topic of discussion where I can actively contribute and is interesting for all participants is something I need to work on. I do want to get to know them better, but I fall short of actually accomplishing this.

What I often forget, though, is that the friends I have here may be experiencing the same thing-- the awkward getting-to-know-you stage where you may not know quite what to say. Just like anywhere else, it's impossible to believe that somebody else will make the effort if you, yourself, do not. The people I count as friends appear to honestly want to be my friend (even if I don't see them all the time)-- people like Corentin and Nadia, who take the same bus as me, Laure, Jean-Paul, both Charlottes, Insaf... and more (listing all the names isn't a good idea, because that's confusing). They are, as previously mentioned, quite patient with my slow French, which is still scattered with English phrases.

Much to my amusement, some of my English phrases have been adopted. It makes me smile to hear them say "Fail"; today on the bus, Corentin said "epic fail", and pronounced it "epique faiiil." Such things make me giggle and want to hug whoever said the phrase because (let's face it), their accents make English words sound ridiculously cute. Similarly, it seems my accent makes some things sound cute to them, too-- I was reading Harry Potter (en français... n'inquiete pas!) very quietly and Insaf informed me of that while Jean-Paul nodded.

I have vacation starting Saturday; lots of French people go skiing, but as far as I know, I'll be in Fréjus for the duration of the break. I will be taking the initiative and trying to make plans with some friends; maybe some exploring is in order, of places I haven't been, such as Marseilles.

I didn't expect for there to be issues within the host family; I didn't expect this, but I try to take it in stride. I'm not new to handling a similar situation, but I feel as though it's not my place to interfere. I tread the line between stranger and family, and as a visitor, I don't want to stir the waters. My issues here ("chez moi", because this is my "home" here, no matter that I still refer to AEU as "home") stem from handling a younger brother that is 11 years old. HE IS ELEVEN, you guys. Eleven-- and I'm seventeen; this doesn't make for peace, as I am residing in his room-- in "his" house-- taking up space he finds familiar and comforting in the same way that I find my space AEU familiar and comforting. Beyond that, the two of us have communication problems as well; he is full of energy and the desire to play that is expected from young boys. I won't hesitate to tell you that sometimes I do not like the kid at all, but I recognize that he is a KID and the problems I have with him are expected and even normal for a younger "sibling".

I'd also mention, that like every time I travel, being here has inspired in me a desire to write and create. I can't face my novel, but I guess nothing will happen to it if I don't sit down and read it. I can't just shrug off my moments of inspiration and my desire to write stories; they won't be written if I don't write them, and it's been too long since I've made any effort to write stories. I want to get back that. If anything, like this blog, it is an exercise in expression and practice for true writing (I do still dream of being an author).

I know this wasn't particularly interesting, but there you have it. Life continues.
♥,
-Aly