Homestay

            Today I moved into my homestay!

            It is very close to the centre ville (city center) and also the IAU. I have another student as a housemate, and our mère d’acceuil (host “mom”) is very accommodating. She welcomed me at 11 AM at my new “house,” where C dropped me off. After simply dropping my bags in my room, it was off to faire les magasins! We went to the bank (la banque), the post office (la poste), and two of the famous (daily) markets. Although I had known about the markets and passed by them on Thursday, I really had no idea which sold what, where!

My mère d’acceuil and I got tomatoes (les tomates), green beans (les haricots verts), and a basil plant at the “regular” market. I call it regular because it looks like any regular farmers’ market to me: farm fresh produce, fish, and meat; hand crafted soaps and bags; souvenirs; roasting chicken legs; antique and “flea market” finds; and clothing. Probably anything you want to find, you could get at this market – granted you’re okay with it being pretty quirky.

We also picked out a nice bouquet at the flower market, which, as it sounds, sells just flowers. Much smaller in size, but it smells SO lovely! My mère d’acceuil is friends with one of the vendors so they chatted a little. Then we stopped into a nearby café to get some coffee (and one for our flower friend!).

Now, ordering coffee at Starbucks may freak some people out.  For Starbucks junkies, ordering coffee at an indie place may be freaky. But for anyone American I swear that ordering coffee in Europe is one of the most challenging tasks!!!! One of the reasons is that we Americans have created our own coffee culture (hello, Seattle) by taking coffee terms from other languages and slapping on the ol’ red-white-and-blue seal of approval. Things like lattes and americanos don’t exist in France (or the rest of Europe if I am to understand correctly). I repeat: Do. Not. Exist.

Okay, so we know this isn’t news to Stephanie. After all, she’s had coffee in Europe before, right? If you want to generalize: yes, I have had coffee in Europe before. From hotels, from serve-yourself carafes, and from pointing to menus. I have not ordered coffee before. So I thought that ordering a caffé latté would get my point across. Nope – I sounded like I was speaking Italian, apparently! Quoi? the Frenchies wanted to know, qu’est-ce que tu veux? I tried again. Café au lait. Still nothing. So instead I just said espresso, pas du sucre in hopes that something so universally simple would make its way across the obvious language barrier (and espresso should never have sugar in it anyway, but I just tacked that on, trying to make some sense in this crazy world).

Note to self: learn how to order coffee.

Other highlights of the day included me beginning A Separate Peace by John Knowles. If you’re gasping that I haven’t read it yet, hey at least I’m getting to it now! My stroll with my host mom took me by part of the city I haven’t explored yet, so I went back in the late afternoon. Just some new construction and “mall” stores, nothing exciting. I accidentally splattered bleach on my favorite pants. And my housemate arrived! She is unpacking now and soon we will have dinner. It’s true that Europeans eat later than Americans, and I am hungry!

 behind l'appartement

 kitchen window (and new basil plant!)

 my room (ma chambre)

my street (la rue), and view from my window

Orientation is Monday and tomorrow is Sunday so the whole town will be chilling – no markets, no businesses, no traffic (hopefully).

When I was out walking a little while ago, I forgot it’s Saturday! And when you go walking around at 6 PM (18h) it’s almost Saturday night so all the cafés were getting dressed up for the evening as bars, putting chairs and tables where the markets has been during the day, and making way for trendy Aixois (people from Aix) and tourists. My soon-to-be-classmates and I will join them in the coming weeks, falling somewhere in between un vrai Aixois and un touriste.

xxo, S

Week One

Tuesday (Mardi):
First full day in Aix! Get the low-down from C (and a cute hand-drawn map). Meet J at l'école for two hour lunch break (so French). Eat in town, where they've known J since before he was born! Back home, rest. Take a walk in the late afternoon - first time perusing toute seule! Back for dinner, sleep early.

map

Wednesday (Mercredi):
Feel really really sick. Sleep late, attempt a (very lame) walk. Rest more. Blog. C and J at Carrefour for the day (no school on Wednesdays) getting school supplies with everyone and their mother (literally!). Dinner with a friend of C and A's come to visit and help teach at the Marchutz school (art) for the semester. Sleep early.

Thursday (Jeudi):
Wake up. Walk into town with C and A. Meet friend from dinner last night to get my cell phone set up. I'm reachable now! Walk around the centre ville and see markets for the first time. Back home, rest. Three girls come over to babysit J while C and A are at a meeting. I chat with them a little bit to practice my French and watch cartoons with J. Hot dogs for dinner! They think it's nasty, I find myself strangely comforted by the mystery meat. After J "goes to sleep" (he was still awake), we stay up watching the movie "Two In One" dubbed in French, then I go to bed.

Friday (Vendredi):
Wake up, chill downstairs with my coffee and blog. C is writing on her laptop in the living room. In the afternoon, we put on gym clothes and go for a brisk walk in a nearby park, La Torse, which I will be frequenting - it's nicely laid out and so pretty! (I keep calling it la trusse which is a pencil case!) Back home, change. Get J from l'école. Walk into the centre ville for a goûté (snack) of baby doughnuts - so tasty!!! Get some last school supplies at the paper store (which I will be going back to, as well, for my own school notebooks, etc). Walk by the IAU, meet up with A. Grab a seat at a café next to the Cathédrale Ste. Sauvère. Chill. Walk back home. Meet "The Dutchies," neighbors who are from the Netherlands and so so so nice! Their three kids are adorable, including a tiny baby. Back home for dinner. After dinner, watch some Pokémon videos on YouTube with J, write letters with C, and then sleep. My last night with them, then off to my homestay!

 drawings by J

drawings ("show these to Indy!")

xxo, S

Le 4 Septembre

Today I woke up just before my alarm at 8H. The tall French doors (can you still call them that in France) were letting the bright morning light in and I was, surprisingly, not super jet lagged. Downstairs, I heard the sounds of the morning: C getting J ready for school and everyone heading out (the first day of CP, oh la).

After lying in bed for a while and adjusting to the day, I got dressed and went downstairs to make some coffee. C and A were back, bustling around the house, doing their daily. A headed out shortly for work stuff, while C offered to draw me a map of getting to the centre ville from the house. We chatted about adjusting to a new country, before deciding that we would walk together to get J from school at lunch break. I went upstairs, did a quick email check, and prepped for the day.

I haven’t work makeup since my job ended. Putting eyeliner on was tricky after all this time! Even seeing myself with makeup – it took a minute to get used to it again. I forgot what I look like. Not a bad look, but I always think I look more awake, which is important when you are still, technically, on a different time zone.

After picking up J at school, we walked through part of town for a second – I got my first real sight of Aix – before settling in for lunch at Fred’s, where J has been going since “before he was born.” He ordered eggs, I had boeuf and C got a hamburger, all with fries. Totally hit the spot, and so delicious for lunch!

But when we got back to the house, I realized I wasn’t feeling very well. My stomach had been bothering me since I arrived in Madrid yesterday, but it wasn’t until this precise moment that I realized I might have a bug and should actually rest. Fret not: I am feeling better, but it is good that I rest now and not be unwell for more important moments of this trip. So I’m resting back in my (Rebecca’s) room and the afternoon breeze is coming through those French doors again. It is a beautiful day, and I wish I could be out enjoying it. However, I know that as soon as I’m feeling 100% again, I’ll be walking to town as I intended to.

xxo, S

P.S. I think le 4 septembre is some important date in French history... could someone verify this? And the only reason I say so is because there is a road in town, Rue le 4 Septembre, aaaaand they don't name streets after just any ol' date.

Marseille to Aix

I tried on a perfume while I was waiting for my first flight to Madrid (Armani, Aqua di Gioa – mm, I love it!) but it had all worn off by the time I was boarding for Marseilles. I brought what is left of my Bvlgari perfume (Omnia Amethyst) but it looks like I’ll have to pick up some more while I’m here! And France is the perfect place to do so, of course!

My flight to Marseilles was easy and quick, just an hour and a half on a narrow little plane. I switched seats with a couple kids who were traveling alone and wanted to sit together. Lucky for me, I got a row of two all to myself in the back. So I got to stretch out and kick my feet up for the first time in a while! Took a nice nap for the majority of the flight and when I woke up, we were just arriving over Marseilles. Below, it was overcast and the water was grey – not the best first sight of France, but I wouldn’t be staying there anyway, so I wasn’t concerned.

The plane was so little, that they couldn’t hook us up to a jetway. Instead, we walked out of the plane, and down some steps right onto the tarmac! I’ve only had to do this once before, in Iceland, where the plane and the airport were both so tiny! My pack rode with the cargo during this flight, so I picked it off the cart on the tarmac and continued inside, where my bigger suitcase was one of the first off the carousel. Talk about timing!

The Marseilles-Provence Airport is not as new as Madrid-Barajas, but also not as large or central. Coming in from the tarmac, the baggage carousel was right in front of you, and no more than 200 yards away was the exit into the parking lot.

However, for such a small airport, I did have some troubles. One of which was getting money! Oh la la la la la la! Quel grand problème! With no ATM in sight (and none in Madrid, either, so I was completely Euro-less), I was forced to use the dreaded (and expensive) exchange counter. I only exchanged 40 USD, which only got me about 29 Euro! Not. Happy. But I only needed a few bucks to 1) Call my lovely host C that the shuttle bus (Navette) I was taking was running a bit lat and 2) Pay for said bus.

Alors, just like that, I managed to find a pay phone (in the 21^st century! Imagine that…), read the bus schedule (depart à 17:30), and ask for directions to the bus. While I did have to have the directions repeated a few times (go straight and turn right, go straight and turn right, go straight and turn right) I managed to communicate with the people at the airport! Granted, this did not require advanced French skills, but it reassured me that, even in semi-crisis mode, I could in fact communicate.

Arriving in Aix en bus, I was met swiftly by C, who whisked me off through town (I caught quick glimses of motorbikes, sidestreets, and pizza places) to their house! Quelle belle maison! I am in love with this house: it is so old-French with tall ceilings, a long walk to the door, balconies, and flowers. I forget that this is Southern France, so the vegetation is closer to, as C puts it, Monterey, California than ol’ New York. Despite the overcast evening, the air was warm (to me at least). I (re) met J and A, had an easy meal, settled into my room for the week, shot a note off to the fam (I’m safe!), and went to bed just two hours after arriving. Finally: close to fourteen hours after leaving my home in NY, I was in Aix! 

xxo, S

Madrid

Thoughts in Madrid

It’s a funny thing, being on an Iberia flight to Madrid. Why Madrid, you ask? Because my delightful student budget allows me to have a nice 5 hour layover before continuing on to Marseille. Anyway, we’re in Madrid now. And the flight was eventful, to say the least.

All is well, another flight is taxing to the runway when, BZZZZZ WOMP, all the lights go out. It’s 11 PM: dark outside and dark inside. Silence. Scary. The emergency lights flick on and everyone starts talking. In Spanish.

Oh, Spanish. Duh. Spanish. Madrid is in Spain so everyone on the flight would speak Spanish. Except yours truly. My Spanish is remarkably horrendous. I fumble with the most basic sentence of “I don’t speak Spanish” and mix and match verbs and nouns like its my job. Suddenly I realized that almost everyone on my flight was a native Spanish speaker and I was probably the only person on the entire flight who couldn’t speak a word. How lonely!

So what do I do? What anyone in my position would: I began to write in French. That’s right, I took out my notebook and wrote about how funny it felt to be on a plane full of Spaniards, but I wrote it out in French. I figured that if everyone else was going to speak another language, I would too. Plus, my French could use some dusting off.

I dozed off before I knew if the lights ever got fixed or not. When I woke up, it was now 12 AM – midnight. We hadn’t taken off yet. Well, at least I got a nice nap in. A few muffled announcements came from the captain (who also spoke Spanish) along with a two sentence version of that announcement in broken English. I had no idea what was going on. Until just twenty minutes later, we were finally lifting off the ground, the lights were on (blinding, after my nap), and we hadn’t even needed to change planes. Whew!

I slept the majority of the flight, waking only for meals and when the kid in front of me lowered his seat allllllll the way back. Before I knew it, sunlight was bursting through the window shades, announcing that we were only an hour away from our destination. After a light breakfast, more announcements in Spanish, and another inadequate English translation, we were getting lower to the ground! Out the window I could see Spanish countryside. Bright gold and yellow land speckled with dark tree clusters. The movie screen (had a movie even shown?) was now displaying a live feed from a camera that seemed to be mounted to the tail of the plane. We could see everything from the plane’s perspective! Definitely one of the coolest in-flight features I’ve ever seen. When the pilot swerved, we watched the horizon slide into a drastic diagonal, and then straighten out. (For a moment, I thought it would actually be cool to fly planes. Then I remembered that it took me long enough to even get my driver’s license and maybe we should just see how that plays out first.) From that view, Spain looked even more amazing.

If you have never been to the Madrid-Barajas Aeropuerto, you are missing out. It must be very new (within the past 10-15 years) and it is a fantastic structure. The roof reminds me of Denver International Airport because of its wavy, tentlike shape. But it is so much more. The support beams fade ombre-style from deep blue to bright red along the length of the airport. The waves are formed by long wooden slats, giving the place a more earthy feel and not just a big industrial glass structure. There is plenty of seating, and nowhere is without a view outside. Shops aren’t just in one location, so you can’t get bored. Even the unused stairways have a beautiful curve design to them. Everything is so simple, I love it!

Watching a 757 dump out the contents of its flight from Indonesia is very interesting. All walks of life are on that plane. Western businessmen, Asian businessmen, families, students, young travelers with backpacks and sandals, older travelers in groups – every kind of person seems to come in from Indonesia (or the surrounding areas).

It’s almost boarding time now for my flight to Marseilles – FINALLY!

This is really it. The first, less exciting leg of my journey is complete and now comes the real stuff, the big one, the closer. France!

More from the other side…

xxo, S

Departure

Oh la la we’re about to leave!!!!

I’m sitting at the airport now and it I can’t believe how fast my last week went! Since Monday, I’ve been on lunch and coffee dates with the most important people, catching up and saying bye before I’m gone for four months. Of course, there was the entire process of packing, too. I took over the basement and had little towers of clothing which I sorted; went through; and sorted again.

I realized on my drive out to JFK this evening that, even though I had known I would always find a way to study abroad, I couldn’t believe it was actually happening! We stopped at White Castle for dinner (a good late-night airport tradition) and then voyaged on to Terminal 7 where – after much deliberation on the phone with Orbitz, American Airlines, and Iberia – I finally realized my flight would depart from. Even as I was waiting online to check in, I was still unsure! So I ran to the flights board: my flight was leaving from that terminal, yes. Then I ran (in front of the next person on line!) to a man at the ticket counter and burst out, “Hi I just want to check and – well I’m not the next person in line but – just make sure that flight 5550 is leaving from this terminal I think it is but I’m not sure and do you know, could you check?” During this long inquisition, the man I was actually talking to just looked at me calmly while the man next to him nodded fervently, indicating that yes, my flight was leaving from here. As the original man finally confirmed on his computer that I was headed for the right plane, I thanked the nodding man and spun around to get back in line.

Party spoke Spanish to the woman who eventually checked me in (she said it was muy buen), and just five minutes after my hasty, crazed detective work, I was checked in and ready for security. I gave many hugs and said goodbye to everyone and then went through security (where they lost my body scan data and I had to wait just standing there, barefoot, for a while until they said I could go) and then bam! Ready for takeoff! 

Now I’m sitting next to my gate. I can see my plane – it’s huge! Two jet turbines; that little bump above the nose; all lit up for my cross-Atlantic voyage.

xxo, S

My first cavity experience

Today I went to get my cavities taken care of. And let me tell you, I’m about 89% positive that getting your first cavity as an adult is way more traumatizing than getting it as a child. (This may also have something to do with the fact that I had four cavities – four!)

I get to the dentist office and, for the first time ever, don’t have to wait more than a minute. I guess when you have cavities, they feel bad for you, so you don’t have to wait as long. Anyway, I get all set up in my chair… I am totally freaking out!

Reason #1 Why Cavities are More Traumatizing as an Adult: No one feels the need to soothe you that it will all be okay in the end. You’re expected to put big kid pants on yourself and deal with it.

The Dentist comes in makes some small talk (“You’re going back to school soon, right? Cool.”) and then we get to poking around in my mouth. After assessing that yes, I do still have four cavities, he explains that we will 1) Numb my mouth on the left side only where the deeper cavities are 2) Use a laser on the right side of my mouth where the shallow cavity is and 3) Use “manual tools” on the deeper cavities.

I’m sorry, manual tools? Is that the new terminology now, not “drill?” Because I’m pretty sure it’s just going to be a drill, a big DePaul-whatever-Mach-5000 drill bit going in my tooth and rattling my skull.

Reason #2 Why Cavities are More Traumatizing as an Adult: You can come up with some pretty elaborate yet realistic situations that you might find yourself in. As a child, everything is still (evil) unicorns and fairytales gone wrong. I’m pretty sure a DeWalt-Volt-16-Megawatts drill is a real thing (sorry unicorns).

So the Dentist and Assistant swipe some numbing gel on my left side. And I know what comes next: an anesthetic needle. Needle! Give me a mountain, I’ll climb it. Write me a speech, I’ll deliver it. Show me sharp medical tools, I’ll probably freak out. In anticipation of a needle arriving in my gums, I look up at the ceiling. Waaaayyyyyyyy up. The Dentist warns me that I might feel a little pinch and then inserts the loooonnnnnngg pointy needle into my mouth. As he’s doing this, he shakes my jaw a little, for what reason, I don’t know. But it only makes this even more nerve-wracking – and not just because they are literally inserting anesthesia into my nerves.

Two scary shots later, and I’m well on my way to numbness. Dentist and Assistant take this time to go get the laser machine from the other room. A shiny piece of equipment on wheels, it was not what I was expecting (a satellite-shaped ray gun, perhaps?) but its resemblance to all the other dental tools is reassuring. The Dentist then informs me that I will wear a special pair of glasses to protect me from the laser. The Assistant places a pair of green-tinted glasses shaped like something you might see on a BMX biker awkwardly onto my face. And suddenly, this whole experience has become something out of a bad 1950s sci-fi TV movie.

The green tint of the lenses turned the room a sickly two-tone color scheme; two mask-wearing figures are looming on the sides of my vision; an overly-bright dental lamp hovers over my face, only partially blocking my view of the dated fluorescent light on the ceiling. The Dentist is even wearing an extra set of goggles over his regular specs, obscuring his face entirely, and wielding a laser for goodness’ sake! which gives this entire operation an air of alien-invasion mixed with futuristic-science.

what I thought was happening

what was actually happening

Deciding it is still too risky to look at the scary dentist tools, my eyes find themselves firmly fixed on the ceiling. Anyone who has been to a dental hygienist office before knows what this ceiling looks like: 12”x12” white squares with random dots to cushion the noise. I must have been staring at them for too long because I began to see a crescent shape in the dots that formed a haphazard smiley face. Before I knew it, I was staring at the Cheshire Cat’s devilish grin.

Reason #3 Why Cavities are More Traumatizing as an Adult: Your imagination is still (overly) active. But with more wildly-child-unfriendly movie scenes for flavor.

More and more tools passed between the two masked figures. Laser, spit-sucking-tube, water-sprayer, flame torch… no really, there was a noise in my mouth that sounded like a flame thrower.

As I continued to stare at the ceiling, I saw strange patterns that shifted and morphed before my very eyes, through the green lenses filter: Preppy coral, lava lamp blobs… Focusing on the fluorescent light, I saw more patterns: green hipster Navajo… Pistol-shaped tooth polishing tool passes through my line of vision…

And then it was over! The glasses came off and Dentist declared me done!

And just in time because any more of that and I might’ve gone running straight out the door and into the HUAC committee meetings and begged McCarthy to save me from the Russian Alien doctors planting tracking chips in my enamel.

Reason #4 Why Cavities are More Traumatizing as an Adult: You have historical references of what happens when science, medicine, and politics go awry.

So that is what it is like for a college student getting their first cavity. I hope it never happens to you. Or if it does/did, that your mouth is not still numb two hours later (like mine is right now).

The end.

Purpose

On Saturday morning, I woke up to my phone alarm buzzing and had a mini bout of confusion:
What day is it?
Where am I?
Am I late for something?
What am I supposed to do today?

Quickly, I realized that nothing had changed: I was still at home in my room, it was Saturday, and I had no plans to be late for. Phew!
But why was I so quick to assume that it was going to be another busy day?

For seven weeks straight (except weekends of course) I had been working as an intern. Waking up early, remembering project due dates and meeting times, getting dressed nicely – you know. Working.
As I came to the final stretch (a.k.a. last five days), I realized that I was really going to miss the demanding yet reassuring atmosphere I had spent the majority of my summer in. From my bubbly boss to my super-smart co-intern, from projects spanning six time zones to commuting on three different routes, everything about the working world was shiny and new to me. I at once loved and hated it.
Loved, because people were actually using the work I did for them, asking me specifically to work on certain projects, and were driven, intelligent, and graceful.
Hated, because there wasn’t always work for me to do, between botched communication, hectic schedules, and the fact that I was just an intern.

this is who I worked for! :)

For seven weeks this was my life! I learned so much (a story for another time) and was sad to leave. Of course, I was glad for the weekends during my internship. But suddenly, on the Saturday after my internship was over, I thought I had to be somewhere.
After some lovely introspective meditation, I have come to this conclusion: I was work-sick!
In the weirdest way, I wanted to be getting up and having a purpose that day because I knew that my job was over (forever???).

Instead, I turned that Saturday into a chill day. On Sunday, we went to New Jersey to visit family (and had so much fun! I jumped off the high dive for the first time in ages… terrifying… I can’t wait to do it again). And on Monday, I threw myself into high gear again and began research on Aix (since, you know, I haven’t really done that yet – oops).

sitting on the porch at our new house, doing research

it's like being outside... but inside

So you see: Sad as I was to be “purpose-less” without my internship, I found a “new” purpose. Being a student in France – une étudiante française.

T -5 days!

xxo, S

Press pause

It's been a while since I've done a cold post, but I figured this was as good a time as any.

Darling readers, I think I may have to have a social media hiatus soon. The Internet has become overwhelming and I am on overload.

How is this possible, you say? The once self-proclaiming Queen of Social Media is done?
Well, much like any pro athlete, celebrity, or politician, my hay day is over; the sun is setting; a new wave is coming; and many other clichés you can apply here.

While I will always love the power of the Internet, this summer has given me a large overdose. Like they say, too much of a good thing is bad. Of course, I will still be blogging (how else am I supposed to log my fantastic journey to France??!) but Twitter, Facebook, Pinterest... all of those will see a little break from me.

I can't believe this is something I have to think about! Social media has exploded in the past five years, captivating millions of people around the globe. Yet there are some who can hardly live without it! Online world, it's been real, but I'm excited to get the chance to go back to the real world.

On a side note, I've been working on some pieces for Colourscape. And just you wait for all my France shenanigans!

xxo, S

Thoughts Before Abroad

As mentioned in an early blog post, this is my submission to the IAU's "Featured Blogger Program."

My travel plans will bring me to Aix a little less than one week before classes begin. This means I’ll get to adjust to the town a bit. I seriously love exploring and I’m used to walking everywhere – pas de problème. Hopefully, during my first days in Aix, I’ll find a great café to chill at. Now wait just a second, I know it sounds cliché! But this girl is one serious coffee lover. You find me a latte and book and I’m set for the day.

I don’t know much about the town of Aix. Is it small? Is it big? (Obviously not as large as Marseille.) I do wish we were slightly closer to the beach. Is there a river in Aix? Where are the parks? These are the questions I hope to answer for myself within a few days of my arrival.

What’s that you say? I should Google it or pick up a Lonely Planet guide? To that I say: Did they have Google in Cézanne’s day? Did Hemmingway read Frommer’s?

I didn’t think so.

I’m a “just wing it!” kind of person. Travelling is one of my greatest pleasures. Coffee is another. I’ve been studying French since I was 11 years old, in the sixth grade.

So, personally, it’s not the language or the travelling that’s got me most freaked out. It’s this idea of starting at a new school again. I went to the same school almost my whole life. Being “the new kid” is not something I’m very accustomed to. My friends would tell you that, once I’m comfortable around people, you’d be hard pressed to get me to shut my trap. But getting to that level of comfort takes a while. The fact that I’ll be living with people I’ve never met before and navigating a city I’ve never been to before will only add to the time it will take for me to get comfortable.

All right, pep talk time: realistically, you only get to study abroad once. That means you better make the most of it. As Eleanor Roosevelt famously said, “Do one thing every day that scares you.”

Motto for the fall? Heck yeah it is.

No really, we’re getting t-shirts.

In other super-exciting news, my visa is good to go! Before I went, I was ridiculously (some might have said irrationally) nervous that the Consulate would deny my request for a visa. Thankfully, that didn’t happen and the visa process went smoothly for me. Being from New York, I got to go two whole times to the Consulate. As we say in New York, “Oy vey!”

The first time was a painstakingly long two hours of muffled loudspeaker announcements where you weren’t really sure if they were speaking French or English until you heard your name – “Stephanie, window two please” – and thumb-twiddling. One thing they should add to that helpful little checklist on the Consulate website is “Bring a book or large amount of paperwork as you will have no cell phone or Internet access.”

On the plus side, I had a great conversation with two other college juniors who are going abroad in France! One had just flown in from her internship in San Francisco (she’s from NY originally and therefore fell under our jurisdiction) and was going back for her third trip to France in four years. She had so much to say about the tiniest towns! The other was – get ready – another IAU student! We both discovered we’re going to be in Aix this fall and instantly bonded over college life, visa stress, and excitement for France. Would you look at that, I’m one small step ahead in this friend-making game.

The second time I went to the Consulate (to pick up my visa; NY won’t mail it to you), I saw my fellow IAU classmate again on my way out. Just a quick “Hi! Bye!” this time since we are trying to get out of that place as quickly as possible. Visit numéro deux was, delightfully, only one hour. Phew!

So now I’ve got my visa! Nothing can stop me now (Except the weight limit on checked baggage. Hey, we girls need our shoes and this is France we’re talking about, remember?).

To Aix-en-Provence, and beyond!!!

xxo, S

IAU Blogger Program

SO, the IAU, which is the school I'll be studying at in Aix, has "Featured Student Bloggers" program. They sent out an email (three, actually) encouraging students to apply for it.
When I hear the word "Apply" I usually get freaked out for two reasons, both of which make sense to me but not others.

Reason One:
Time. I don't want to sit down and do paperwork and fill out a form. Especially the part that usually goes something like "Tell me about yourself" or "You friends would describe you as..." Dude, I don't freakin' know what my friends would describe me as! That's why they would describe me that way. Ugh - overall, the time it takes to to the whole "applying" thing is very daunting.

Reason Two:
Rejection. What if they don't like what I submit? Especially when it comes to something like my writing, I'm sensitive to why someone might decline to have me blog for them. I don't write for other people... but I definitely care what people think of my writing! Not that I am opposed to criticism or edits - any writer knows you must take all that in stride. BUT I get a little disappointed when someone else's writing gets picked over mine.

Anyway, they gave us a few questions to answer as we write our first blog post. We'll submit it - if they like it, you're in! Submissions will be accepted based on quality of material and depth of reflection. Eep! I hope my reflections are "deep" enough for them.

I'm going to post what I submitted to the IAU. Because I think it's good and that you should all read it. All of it is true and would have ended up here at some point anyway.
And if they do pick someone else to blog for them, oh well. I still get to blog for you guys and it's the best!

xxo, S

Stairwell Encounter

At my work, there is a door, a tiny space with a window, and another door that goes to the stairs. I always take the stairs down because we're only on the 4th floor. No one else ever takes the stairs, I think because they don't live in a college dorm 9 months out of the year.

tiny landing between the two doors

As I approach the first door, I hear some sound, but just go to open the door anyway and then the voices suddenly stop. And I try to open the door but it doesnt move. And someone's voice goes "Hello?" And I go, "Um hi, it's just, um I wanted to - I was just going to take the stairs if - um, can I do that? Is that okay? Uhhhhh." And then Founder J's head pops around the door and he's like, "What? Oh yeah, sure!" 

And so he opens the door a little and me and my pink polka dot DZ bag squeeze through and then it's me, Founder J, and Founder A all standing in this tiny space for about 10 seconds as I make my way to the 2nd door to go down the stairs.

Just as I'm opening the door to leave, Founder A turns and goes, "Wait! Do you have a lighter?" and the two guys stare at me and I'm so panicked and confused and frightened all I do is say, "No I'm so sorry!!!!" and then turn around and bolt down the stairs.

And my heart was pounding all the way until I got home. I was really sure that someone was going to run after me.

Countdown to Aix

It’s AUGUST!

And I’m thinking, “Woah, already?!” because that means there’s one month until I’m in France!!! Study abroad cannot come soon enough… or can it?

My internship this summer has been more than I could’ve wished for. But it’s still a full time job – and boy, am I glad I’m still in college! I definitely still miss school and all my friends there, so I’m ready for summer to be over (am I really saying this??). At the same time, when September rolls around this year, I won’t be heading back to the campus I’ve grown to know like the back of my hand these past two years. Nope, I’m going to Aix, where the only sure thing is that I will have not a clue that first day.

We all remember that first day of freshman year. You and your roommate psyching each other up for “oh my god, your first college class ever!” Well that got old fast, didn’t it?

Now, we’re big bad juniors. And while some of our colleagues back in the U.S. are going to celebrate their new level of upperclassmenship, we’ll be looking around for Art 101… mais en français.

Okay, not everyone on my trip is going to be dealing with this overload of foreign language. But I somehow got myself on the French Honors Program. Which means I’ll get a nice giant serving of full immersion. I’d prefer it to be a huge serving of brie, but we students take what we get, n’est pas?

So that means I’ve been brushing up on my French (un petit peu) and practicing my bises (not really – Americans would be so freaked out by that). Actually, madames et messieurs, I did get a little smart – only a little, I promise – and changed my computer clock to 24-hour time, my weather app to Celsius, and my Facebook language to French. There! Three simple ways to prepare myself. Combine that with the sleep schedule you develop working a “real job,” and nous sommes prêtes pour la France, mes amis!

I’m going to go work on a little playlist I’ve been preparing for the trip (what’s on it, you ask? Details coming soon…) BUT my excitement builds with every day that counts down to le 2 septembre (A.K.A. my flight to Marseille)!

xxo, S

Dublin (26 to 29)

Unfortunately, our trip had to come to an end at some point :( We left Brian and Julia's house on the 26th and took the train to Dublin! (No dead gentlemen in the restroom this time).

Stu made friends with the front desk guy at our Kinlay House hostel when we checked in to our sweet top floor room.

we got to climb all these stairs every day!

view from the room

walking around the city at sunset

Our first night in Dublin, we took it easy and went out to a simple dinner and hung out at The Porterhouse Brewing Co. afterwards. This place had several of their own brews, unique to the brewery and brewed right in Dublin. We got to taste them, and really enjoyed them!

The next day, we headed off to tour the Guinness Storehouse. Formerly the brewery for Guinness beer, it is now a museum dedicated to history of the Guinness brand.

The inner structure of the building is built in the shape of a giant pint glass, which is, of course, what Guinness is served in. Escalators going every which way to take you from floor to floor made this place more Willy Wonka than Hershey Park.

At the top of the Storehouse is the Gravity Bar, representing the head of the pint. Windows on all sides of the circular top floor provide spectacular 360 degree views of Dublin. It is also here that you can redeem your entrance ticket for a free pint of freshly poured Guinness.

 the view

outside at the end of our tour

Of course, we had to enjoy our Saturday night in Dublin! We signed up for another pub crawl and set out into the night.

whalen's, where they shot part of "P.S. I Love You"

a token hipster bar, which we loved

Dublin has some pretty odd street sights at night:

We spent our last full day in Ireland on a walking tour around the city.

We ended the tour at St. Stephen's Green, the big park in Dublin. After, we walked to get dinner (we were starving!) at an Indonesian restaurant called Chameleon.

The food was sooooo good! We devoured everything and had the best time relaxing on their comfy couch seating. We were also the only people on the top floor of the restaurant, so we got to giggle and hang out and just enjoy our meal :)

That night, we returned to The Porterhouse and enjoyed the new beers we had discovered for the last time.

We also went back to the bar from the night before, Whalen's. They played music that Doug and I really liked and it was fun to just sit and hang out.

whalen's

And that was it! Our Irish adventure had come to an end and we had to go home :(

sunset on our last day in Ireland

Bye-bye, Ireland. Until next time, the four best friends are signing off and hope to see you again!