the present tense

5 months later

2011-12-08T16:14:00.000-08:00

My fingertips are raw and there is chalk caked in the cracks around my fingernails. My adrenaline rush has made the skin on my arms stretch so tight it feels it'll tear open, but I shove the unpleasant image aside and continue climbing my way up on the ‘yellow brick road’, which is what they call this particular route on the rock wall here.

Just over two months ago I could barely make it up the easiest route, and now I’m able to do this particularly difficult one (for a noob like me) twice in a row, though not without successfully transforming into a floppy noodle. I can’t even undo the clip that attaches me to the rope from how weak I feel after the second climb.

Bouldering= climbing left to right,
no harness needed

This has become a part of my daily life out here in St. Cloud. I teach, I study, I climb. Repeat.

Let me back up, in case you’re behind: I’m a first-semester graduate student at St. Cloud State University working towards my Master’s in TESL (Teaching English to Speakers of Other Languages).

Five months ago, I was dumped unceremoniously by Delta back into Michigan after an almost-year abroad, like Europe had simply been babysitting me and now I was back.

I landed with my head spinning and have remained in a similar state ever since. I had barely 3 weeks back home to get through reverse-culture-shock and do some hummingbird-watching and then drove my way through Chicago and cheese curds to arrive in St. Cloud, Minnesota to start my training as a graduate assistant, also known as that one time they tried to summarize the essence of teaching the English language to a diverse group of students in a couple weeks.

Oh run-on sentences, how I’ve missed you.

Five months later. Here are some basic facts:

· Yesterday was my last day of teaching
· Today is my last day of classes
· Next week is exams
· I’m a Graduate Assistant (like a TA) which means:
· I was an instructor in the IEC (Intensive English Center)

o The IEC is broken up into levels, pre-level 1 to 4. Level 4 is the level they (exchange students) need to pass in order to take college classes.

o I taught two classes: level 4 Listening/Speaking & level 4 Reading

· I live in a house with several other females 15 minutes (walking) from campus
· Here is a picture of the house, taken months ago:

I like it here. I liked teaching. I more or less liked my classes. I like the people. I like the state. I like the teeny accent, which I have apparently picked up a little of. Some of the vowel sounds just feel better, ya know? Melk and bayg just rolls off the tongue a little more easily.

Minnesota is like Michigan but with straighter highways and pronouncing “aunt” the British way. It’s generally sunnier, and a bit colder in winter, but the famous snow has yet to fall. Well, we got this preview a couple weeks back but it’s evaporated back up to where it came from until it feels like staying longer:

Looking out the front of my house

about 2 hours later

Next morning

St. Cloud is… well, a town. On a superficial level, St. Cloud is like the 9^th bland person you meet at a party with whom you listlessly recite and repeat the basics, like some boring party robot (“I’m ____ from ____ and I study ____ and hope to ____ in the future… how about you?”). You don’t really get any particularly good or bad impression of this person, but neither do you remember a word the person just said 5 minutes after talking to them. This is St. Cloud.

But then you randomly run into them in the bookstore and see them holding your favorite novel of all time and spend the rest of the evening having an incredible conversation with them. You click and proceed to get to know each other over a few weeks and discover all their wonderful little quirks and don’t even associate the first meeting with them to the person you know now. This is St. Cloud.

One of these great, hidden quirks of St. Cloud is Quarry Park, where I spent my first couple months wandering in my free time:

As for SCSU’s campus itself, it’s pretty standard. It’s practically miniscule compared to Michigan State, and I like that everything from my office to my classes to where I teach is all within a few minutes of each other.

Just before it got too cold, I spent a wonderful weekend hiking and climbing along the Superior Hiking Trail, a few hours north of here, higher than the mitten of Michigan!

Arriving at night and hiking a couple miles to the site

Waking up to this!

coffee and oatmeal

See the train?

hello.

climbing! erm... descending first

my very first time, it took me a bit to get used to it

quite the rush

sun going down

sunset

It was my friend Kevin (who I met through the sort of ‘Outdoors club’ here) who introduced me to climbing, and I’ve been hooked ever since. I know I’ve dabbled around in all sorts of sports and activities in my 23 years, everything from ballet to rugby, but climbing was not one I saw coming. For me, walls were not interesting and going up them held approximately just as must interest.

All I know is that I’ve got some sort of climbing bug now. I love the challenge of every different route, of learning ways to use my body to reach the top. I love that I’m actually using my upper body even if I have been constantly sore for 2 months. I love the little climbing community who congregates at the wall every night from 6-9 and helps each other out, telling crazy climbing stories and giving advice and encouragement to the climber as they belay them.

I love that it helped me survive this first semester. Knowing the wall’s hours pushed me to work harder throughout the day in order to finish in time so that I could climb and leave any bad energy at the top of a challenging route. I love that it’s one of the best workouts I’ve ever gotten and that I’ve actually got a bit of upper body strength now.

Teaching this semester has been by far one of the most challenging experiences of my life, and never have I ever loved a job so much. Never have I been so pushed, so inspired, so frustrated and overwhelmed, so happy and sad. It was the most rewarding semester of my life.

I was even able to combine my two new loves:

Some of my students and I at the rock wall
(okay so I bribed them with extra credit)

And finally, the last two classes, where several of my students sadly didn't show up, so all aren't represented here:

Level 4 Reading Fall 2011

Level 4 Listening/Speaking Fall 2011

I'm currently writing this from the lounge area down by the rock wall. I was bouldering and remembered I wanted to finish this.

Anyway, I miss you all, from my family back in Michigan to Anne-Marie in Senegal (who can’t even read this), to Mike in Scotland and Alberto in Spain, to Elisa in France and Mohgee in South Korea, to Zach in Virginia and Caro and Jan in Germany...to everyone so far away. Hope to hear from you soon,

Love,

Katie

A Warm Welcome Home

2011-07-21T05:09:00.000-07:00

(Tuesday, July 19^th 6:45pm)

Delayed flight

Lost luggage

Violated

A hearty welcome home indeed. What's up America! Good to be home.

As though it were the final exam to this past year's experience, coming back hasn't been easy and I haven't passed yet – I'm currently in Miami waiting for my connecting flight to Detoit with only 30 minutes to spare despite a 5 ½ hour layover. Let me elaborate.

I was first greeted with the news in Madrid that my flight was overbooked, but luckily I arrived in time not to get pushed – though they gave incentive to volunteer.

Next I find the flight is delayed an hour and a half, which actually turns into 2 and a half, but no big deal because I have such a long layover in Miami, right?

During the first flight the man in front of me leans back his seat all the way and the grouchy French man behind me taps on me seat telling me to put mine up because “his legs are too long.” And right on cue, crying baby commences. Only 8 hours 40 minutes left...

Then I find myself waiting over an hour and a half for the luggage – it seems the whole airport is gathered around the baggage claim wheel-thing getting grouchier and grouchier by the minute because the bags are normally there waiting for you once you get through customs and many people have a connecting flight within the hour.

I try to ignore everyone around me whose irritability is getting contagious which I hate but I don't succumb to crabbiness despite their best efforts, and even when they announce that our luggage is actually at dock 1 and not 2 and the whole world shifts over their, I'm still telling myself all will be alright, there's still time.

Still 20 minutes later I still don't see my luggage and another announcement comes on saying that the luggage is actually coming out of both docks, but because of all the other arriving flights they're mixed and now there's even more people and some airport employees are starting to pull luggage off the belt bringing the total places you have to check for your luggage to 5 or 6 places.

Finally, with still just enough time not to worry (too much) I find my sad little red bag with its broken handle and make my way through customs and then through a confused maze of people and signs that eventually lead me to someone taking the bag I just found and adding it to a huge pile of bags that will probably end up at the north pole but I don't care at this point and so I continue to security.

One long line later I'm the random person chosen to go through the new high-tech body scanners but ask for an opt out and find myself thoroughly examined by a bored female staff member who wasn't kidding when she said she'd get up close and personal in your business. Sigh.

Feeling slightly violated I make my way to my gate and find that I will be flying to Detroit with 60 hyper and annoying high school students from Paraguay and what seems to be another loud student or volunteer group from Haiti.

And yet, despite all that, I never got all that grouchy or impatient or even worried. I think I've gotten quite good at traveling by this point. Well, that or the fact I've felt slightly numb since leaving a billion hours ago.

I just thought it'd make for a good story.

If nothing else goes wrong, should be home in just under 4 hours.

Actually, I'm home now if you're reading this.

Love,

Katie

Update:

Arriving home

Home after 2 long flights

With Dad

With Donna

The end of a journey

2011-07-18T13:55:00.000-07:00

Time plays such funny tricks on you.

For so many moments of my life abroad these past 10 months, going home was always more of an idea than reality, something that was supposedly going to happen but always so far in the future that it never quite seemed real.

Quite suddenly, I am returning home to Michigan tomorrow.

I exceeded every expectation that I had for this journey – especially when it came to wanting to slow down. Not only did I get my wish, but in less-than-happy moments it felt like it would never come to an end, in fact (i.e. a rough week of classes/students). This is the not so desirable forever-feeling.

Then there were the many weekends in the woods, climbing this hill or following that river, feeling like you could never possibly be anywhere else doing anything else, that you would forever add muddy miles to your trusty old hiking boots while discovering new smells and sounds, all the while just walking under a clear blue sky or on fresh white snow or under some friendly rain.

Or perhaps it was the many moments traveling alone on a train or ferry, staring out the window at mountains or deserts or oceans, your thoughts so entangled that sometimes it feels like you're thinking about everything at once while other times it feels like you're thinking of nothing at all, but you're so at peace no matter what kind of thinking it is that it doesn't really matter. The beautiful thing is that you never think of the end. You can never imagine being any other way.

These are the good kind of forever-feelings.

Such moments stretch to infinity and can leave you feeling rather blindsided when they do come to an end, making you feel almost betrayed by them – weren't they supposed to keep you wrapped forever in wonder and joy and a sense of freedom? You forget that journeys end and you try to blame it on them, but they are just journeys after all – they don't make promises any more than toasters do.

I leave tomorrow. How strange it feels to see and think the words. It's certainly not that I haven't thought about coming home – au contraire. I have missed my home, friends and family beyond words, but I've also been happy and living a life here, and no matter how much I thought about it and you all, it never seemed to click. It has just been so long and I've gotten so used to my way of life over here that it's hard to believe it will be over soon.

I feel an intense heaviness on my chest and the weight of the past year on my shoulders, afraid to be forgotten and left behind. Such are experiences, I have learned, feeling almost like a friend you have made instead of a place you have visited, pulling one hand behind you to stay while the other is being pulled forward toward the future. They feel betrayed you are leaving – you had gotten so close and seemed so happy – and you try to explain to them that they will be coming with you in a way, but they don't understand. And so the tug-of-war.

That said, perhaps you might be confused to know that I am very, very happy indeed to be coming home, that I am looking forward to trying on my old life like the pair of skinny jeans so many people keep in their closest, ready to see after such an extended period of time if they will fit them once again.

I am nervous and a little afraid of transitioning from the life I have here back to the life of a student, and at a graduate level this time to boot, and with just 3 weeks to be back home before moving to Minnesota. I'm slightly overwhelmed just thinking about it, but I want people to understand, too, how excited I am to be moving on. I have had my year of “breathing” as I've so often put it, and more than once over these past few months I have felt the pull to come back home. Yet I've lived so much over here, too, that it's a complicated mix of feelings.

Yes, I am ready to come home, but by saying that I want it to be understood that it does not mean I want to leave. Never before have I been so torn about anything.

I'm not sure how to end this, nothing seems adequate. I feel beyond capable of explaining what's going through my mind, how I feel right now. I wonder if a body, a mind, was ever meant to experience so many conflicting emotions at once.

The end of another journey, but not the end. I suppose that will have to suffice.

Love and miss you all and see you soon,

Katie

Pueblo Ingles / English Village

2011-07-12T08:06:00.000-07:00

June 1st

You know what's great?

Free transportation, food and 4-star hotel lodgings in the mountains in southern Spain...

...in exchange for talking to people for 8 days.

I heard of this program, Pueblo Ingles (English Village) from a student I've been tutoring in Madrid - basically, it's an English immersion program for Spaniards to improve their English by spending 5-8 days (depending on the program) in a village somewhere in Spain speaking over 100 hours with native speakers.

I was accepted into the 8-day program in Coto del Valle, 5 hours south of Madrid by bus. It is a resort smack dab in the heart of the Cazorla National park in the Jaen region.

I've got nothin' but time and English as my native tongue so I'm goin!

Love,
Katie

Segovia, Spain

2011-07-12T07:35:00.000-07:00

Sometime mid-June 2011...

I LOVE CASTLES.

Like this one:

The Alcázar of Segovia

Look at all that nothing in the background!

I'm a die-hard Tudor junkie, but that's not to say I don't enjoy some good medieval Spanish palaces and history, too.

I just love 'em. So grand and mysterious and full of stories, so different from today and so beautiful.

This one is The Alcázar of Segovia (Arabic for fortress or palace) and it's smack in the middle of a big dry... area? Well, the whole city of Segovia is a like a fairytale city in the middle of a sandbox, truthfully.

I am smitten with this city.

Got off to a good start with a ham sandwich, where I got to see a grouchy old barman cut it right from the leg itself:

mmmm

In fact, as bizarre as it was at first to see legs of ham hanging around everywhere (and I mean everywhere - the supermarket, bars, restaurants... I even went to a ham museum!) it's pretty much the most delicious ham I've ever had, every time. You just gotta get used to the hooves watching you eat.

Segooooovia! Such a pretty city. It's got these great roman Aqueducts, too:

The Roman Aqueduct of Segovia

Aqueduct what!

Looks like it'd just topple right over if you sneezed on it the wrong way.

Wikipedia tells me it might have been started in the first century, is 818 meters long and made from 25,000 granite blocks - and without any cement, nothin'! Achoo.

I feel like I could write a song about this city.

Segovia

and again, Segovia

I wish I had more interesting stories to share about what went on, but really, sometimes you just show up somewhere, look at a lot of stuff, and leave.

Lookin a little chubby at
the top of the tower of the castle

View from the castle

And just because I love them so much, back to the castle - only the inside now:

You might live in a castle, but this is what's
outside of it. Sand. box.

Gorgeous ceilings.

I love royalty!!

See the wee kings and queens staring at you?

I really have nothing to say. So I shall leave you with this last photo:

Blargh! Off with yer head...s.

Love you!
Katie

Toldeo, Spain

2011-07-12T06:52:00.000-07:00

Saturday, June 11th

Turn on your oven to 400 degrees F.

Now, expand it to the size of a city.

Walk in.

You may now perhaps be able to understand my day trip to Toledo, Spain.

It's the opposite of everything I knew in France. Not only surface-of-the-sun hot, but red and dry and bright.

It's a beautiful place to be sure, but I am learning just how much heat can affect me. I am simply drained of energy, listless. Excited as I was to go on this day trip, once I was in the city walls it was like trying to drag a dead whale around behind me.

Toledo, Spain

I felt so weak, I actually had to sit down regularly to recuperate a bit of strength from time to time - this coming from a gal who can normally hike for hours at a time no problem! Bah.

I would then wobble to the next street where I would seek out once again the least-hot stone something or other to sit on while poor Alberto probably worried about having to call my family to explain their relative had up and melted in the middle of Spain.

Inside the city

We did enjoy a nice meal indoors where it was much cooler and where the people were rowdy and loud and even smoking despite the ban. They were all relatively old and the smokers probably couldn't care less they were breaking the law since they had been smoking for 50 years in the same restaurant before the ban came out. So sassy!

Anyway, there was, believe it or not, a river in this place, but I swear even the water looked dry. We found a nice path around it that provided some shade:

No really, look hard, there's water...

Well there was some shade anyway...

I was feeling a bit more alive after the walk, which is where the energy came from for the following photo, which also quickly left me after the effort of lifting my arms like that...

An adventure is an adventure no matter what the temperature!

Love,
Katie

Conozco solo el tiempo presente

2011-07-12T05:09:00.000-07:00

"So.. wanna go to Egypt today?" asks Alex.

I think about it.

"Yea sure why not," I reply.

Alex is one of my language exchange buddies, and while he's actually from Romania, he's lived in Spain since he was young and so he speaks perfect Spanish. When we meet up, we like to go to a particular park where there is the Temple of Debod that came from Egypt as a gift to Spain for helping them out a while back, and it's pretty nifty, especially the carvings on the inside which are so old you can barely make them out.

From Wiki - The Temple of Debod

To be honest, I've lost the initial momentum I had in my motivation to learn Spanish (I blame the heat) and can't seem to learn the past tense all that well. I know if I could just sit down and teach myself I could get somewhere, but I'm bent on learning by listening this time, but this darn past tense will not stick.

I realize as I'm trying to explain this to Alex that "Conozco solo el tiempo presente." I only know the present tense.

Who knows if I'm saying it right, but he nods and laughs saying, "Well good for you, then you can live more fully in the present since that's all you can talk about!"

I laugh too and enjoy this little philosophical twist on my inability to speak much Spanish, and realize that really, that's what this past year has been about, that's what it should always be about. Sure, you shouldn't forget about the past or ignore the future, but don't harp on 'em either.

Nothing grand today folks, just a warm little moment to share with ya'll.

I'm also playing with it to see if it works as a blog title. Let me know if you like it.

Bisous,
Katie

Alone

2011-06-29T06:26:00.000-07:00

A nun with Calvin Klein sunglasses listening to her iPod.

An elegantly dressed woman pushing a baby carriage and smoking.

A withered old man hobbling along slowly with a pipe hanging out of his mouth.

A young lady dressed in a hundred shades of pink with a rainbow turtle backpack and braids.

A blur of a bohemian skirt and rail-thin, deeply-tanned woman with a frizzy mop of hair.

A foreigner with a map and arched eyebrows and a look of desperation.

A very large man in a tight yellow t-shirt and green pants with a purple shopping bag.

Some guy on a skateboard annoying them all.

A woman with half a buzz-cut, half-shoulder-length hair.

Two teenager girls with curly black hair carrying books..

A balding business man with a cell phone in his mouth.

An ancient woman with white hair, bright blue sweater and light beige skirt.

An unusually tall young man sporting plaid and a pony tail.

A husband, surely, shuffling slowly behind his patient wife.

A mother holding the hand of her child in his crisp school uniform.

A hunchback woman conquering the sidewalk with her cane.

A couple walking hand in hand looking absolutely not in love.

A man J-walking, the sound of honking.

A young woman in a tube top dancing her way in front of two old ladies walking arm-in arm.

A 23-year-old American sitting in an old green sofa spying on them all and feeling slightly lost.

But hey, I love Madrid if only for the people-watching.

From the window of a cafe, I'm letting the city come to me as I sip on a tea I ordered in Spanish (woo I'm learning!) after 4 weeks of wandering around the city slightly aimlessly with 3 more to go.

I feel very strange.

This was the "difficult" part I mentioned in the last post.

I have found several students to whom I tutor English to make a little money, I have made several friends with whom I speak English or Spanglish, but I have not quite found my groove in this city which I find more alive and with an energy more tangible than anywhere I've ever been.

I'm happy here, but something feels off.

Maybe it's because I am sort of floating around here. I came to Madrid with no real plans, except to pick up some Spanish and tutor some English if possible. I didn't have the money for classes or other traveling as I had hoped. The goal in coming here was to simply discover a new city and breathe a few more deep breaths before coming home for a moment and then heading off to grad school.

It's normal. I've felt like this before, with each study abroad and most recently my time in France working. It creeps up on you, this slightly melancholic, slightly nostalgic feeling. Sometimes it's homesickness, sometimes it's not. Sometimes it has to do with loneliness, other times it doesn't. Right now I don't feel lonely, but quite alone.

It reminds me of this beautiful poem performed to a song I discovered through a friend while abroad, which I think I will end with.

I wish I could write like her.

Basically,

It's alright to be alone.

Here are the lyrics as well, but please listen to it if you have a few minutes.

love,
Katie

--

HOW TO BE ALONE by Tanya Davis

If you are at first lonely, be patient. If you've not been alone much, or if when you were, you weren't okay with it, then just wait. You'll find it's fine to be alone once you're embracing it.

We could start with the acceptable places, the bathroom, the coffee shop, the library. Where you can stall and read the paper, where you can get your caffeine fix and sit and stay there. Where you can browse the stacks and smell the books. You're not supposed to talk much anyway so it's safe there.

There's also the gym. If you're shy you could hang out with yourself in mirrors, you could put headphones in.

And there's public transportation, because we all gotta go places.

And there's prayer and meditation. No one will think less if you're hanging with your breath seeking peace and salvation.

Start simple. Things you may have previously based on your avoid being alone principals.

The lunch counter. Where you will be surrounded by chow-downers. Employees who only have an hour and their spouses work across town and so they -- like you -- will be alone.
Resist the urge to hang out with your cell phone.

When you are comfortable with eat lunch and run, take yourself out for dinner. A restaurant with linen and silverware. You're no less intriguing a person when you're eating solo dessert to cleaning the whipped cream from the dish with your finger. In fact some people at full tables will wish they were where you were.

Go to the movies. Where it is dark and soothing. Alone in your seat amidst a fleeting community. And then, take yourself out dancing to a club where no one knows you. Stand on the outside of the floor till the lights convince you more and more and the music shows you. Dance like no one's watching...because, they're probably not. And, if they are, assume it is with best of human intentions. The way bodies move genuinely to beats is, after all, gorgeous and affecting. Dance until you're sweating, and beads of perspiration remind you of life's best things, down your back like a brook of blessings.
Go to the woods alone, and the trees and squirrels will watch for you.

Go to an unfamiliar city, roam the streets, there're always statues to talk to and benches made for sitting give strangers a shared existence if only for a minute and these moments can be so uplifting and the conversations you get in by sitting alone on benches might've never happened had you not been there by yourself

Society is afraid of alonedom, like lonely hearts are wasting away in basements, like people must have problems if, after a while, nobody is dating them. but lonely is a freedom that breaths easy and weightless and lonely is healing if you make it.

You could stand, swathed by groups and mobs or hold hands with your partner, look both further and farther for the endless quest for company. But no one's in your head and by the time you translate your thoughts, some essence of them may be lost or perhaps it is just kept.

Perhaps in the interest of loving oneself, perhaps all those sappy slogans from preschool over to high school's groaning were tokens for holding the lonely at bay. Cuz if you're happy in your head than solitude is blessed and alone is okay.

It's okay if no one believes like you.

All experience is unique, no one has the same synapses, can't think like you, for this be releived, keeps things interesting lifes magic things in reach.

And it doesn't mean you're not connected, that community's not present,
just take the perspective you get from being one person in one head and feel the effects of it.

take silence and respect it.

if you have an art that needs a practice, stop neglecting it.

if your family doesn't get you, or religious sect is not meant for you, don't obsess about it.

you could be in an instant surrounded if you needed it
If your heart is bleeding make the best of it
There is heat in freezing, be a testament.

Why not move to Madrid for 7 weeks?

2011-06-26T05:00:00.000-07:00

(As always, click on photos to enlarge to get a much clearer view)

So I've been in Madrid for a bit more than 3 weeks.

It's been fantastic.

And then it's been difficult.

Repeat.

I'm living in the what most people refer to as the "gay district" which is very close to Gran Via, the main street, and pretty much in the heart of the center.

Gran Via

Here is a peek at the street I'm living on plus a peek in either direction at the end of the street:

Yep, that entirely unimpressive-looking building is
where I'm staying. Don't judge a book by it's cover, however.

To the left

To the right

Coming here from the quiet, peaceful countryside of France made for quite an interesting change. It's incredibly loud most nights, with people up and about, partying and causing other general shenanigans until well past 6am, around the time they find a cafe to get breakfast and a coffee to sober up, and just as I wake up to start my day the noise dies down to be replaced with the general hum of life in the busiest city I've ever been in.

I have but to walk downstairs to be within 30 seconds distance of places I could go to buy nearly anything I could want in the world. Coffee, a disco ball or an avocado are all within instant reach should I ever be in urgent need of them. Or just the general, unhurried need of a disco ball and other such things.

The city is so alive, the energy is contagious. I'm constantly in a state of feeling slightly overwhelmed and very excited and, of course, lost in most senses of the word.

When I first arrived, the revolution was still pretty much in semi-full swing, and a 5 minute walk from the apartment takes you to Puerta del Sol, where people were still living in tents in the square protesting against the government. There were tents everywhere with people sharing ideas and speaking through megaphones, but then there were a lot of people who were just sitting on old couches under tarps drinking a beer in the mid-day heat or getting a haircut, for example:

Walking to Puerta del Sol

Puerta del Sol

A protest sign on the metro

They were here during the week it rained almost every day

Inside the tent area

A man getting a haircut in the midst of it all

It was really quite a sight. I felt very out of place as I walked around and took it all in, not being able to understand what was written on the posters or talk to anyone about it.

I came to Madrid knowing I'd stay here about 7 weeks and not much else. I spoke virtually no Spanish but have since found several language partners and have self-taught enough to speak a pretty survivor-level of Spanish, but I'm improving a lot day to day, each time I meet with someone new, and I have spoken for over an hour in Spanish on some days, albeit very poorly. It helps enormously knowing French, which also allows me to understand a lot more than I'm able to speak.

Anyway, I've also become a bit of a jogger for a lack of a better way to stay in shape. There is this former royal garden, "El Retiro" that I go to often, whether it be for a jog or a walk or to find a bench to park in to read a bit. It's ENORMOUS. It feels like a dozen gardens and parks in one:

On one end in El Retiro

fountains everywhere

One of my favorite gardens within the garden,
which I have dubbed "Peacock Paradise"

Mother and baby peacock

They're sorta everywhere in this part of the garden

Where I read a bit

Great view for reading, no?

I often got lost in the beginning while jogging around because it's just so darn big, but it's kind of a magical place so I don't mind all that much.

Basically, this is the time that was left after leaving France but not having enough money to travel around like I had planned, for several long and complicated reasons I won't discuss here. I could have gone home early, but I could not pass up the chance to spend almost 2 months in Spain - I have always wanted to learn Spanish and never had the time, so I took advantage of Alberto's offer to visit.

Besides studying on my own and juggling a dozen tandem language partners, I also found a handful of people to teach English to to make a little money. And to be perfectly frank, besides these two main activities, I spend the rest of my time walking around, reading and writing.

I doubt there will ever be such a period in my life again (until after retirement perhaps?) where I will have such time and freedom, so I am simply trying to take it all in as much as possible and, little by little, mentally prepare myself for coming home on July 19th.

Love,
Katie

The Wine Route! Day 7 and 8 - Ammerschwihr and Colmar

2011-06-02T03:06:00.000-07:00

Friday, May 27th 2011
(also, might I recommend zooming in on pictures here and there, as they're much more clear when enlarged!)

So. Tired.

Today we biked to Ammerschwihr, and no I don't know how to pronounce it either.

Again, some great biking today.

Biking to Ammerschwihr

We passed through whatever village this is below to climb a cute little castle we spotted.

See the tiny, tiny little castle?

Man was it WINDY up there, but it gave great views of the village below:

Views looking down from tiny, tiny castle.

We were both tired when we finally arrived to Ammerschwihr, but it was still relatively early and we couldn't resist trying to make it to a nearby village.

Half-heartedly my legs tried to pedal up and down what were some hilly paths, and at one point we just had to stop out of sheer exhaustion. At least there was this beautiful view when we stopped:

We decided to head back before we really got to anywhere in particular, and found that while it was the smallest, least picturesque of all villages we've stayed in, the menu's for the restaurants were twice as expensive, if not more. And being so small, there were virtually no other choices.

Luckily, there is a pizza van that stops in the village once a week, and it happened to fall on today! We shared two pizzas and a coke while sitting in a little square where the only other life was a hungry cat, and turned in early for the night.

Love,

Katie

Saturday, May 28th 2011

Last day of the Wine Road!

Our final destination was Colmar, where we arrived after yet another excellent stretch of biking, and found that it had a "Little Venice" -

The "Little Venice" in Colmar

The river in this city is what made it stand out (besides the fact it was an actual city and not some small village) and we enjoyed a long, lazy walk along it, admiring the ever-beautiful homes and other buildings.

Colmar

We had so much time before our train left, that we decided to take a nap and read and people-watch in a park not too far from the train station:

Oh, young love.

Relaxing before hopping on the train home.

An absolutely unforgettable trip, all of which was possible thanks to Alberto. I won't soon forget the charm of the region of Alsace, nor the beauty I experienced along the bike paths and in the forests and all the wonderful villages in between.

Love to all,

Katie

The Wine Route! Day 6 - Riquewihr

2011-06-02T02:46:00.000-07:00

Thursday, May 26th 2011

My life has become a tangle of vineyards and mountains and wine, small villages and storks and tarte flambee (traditional dish in this region - like a very thin-crusted pizza but better... until you've had it half a dozen times in the span of a few days, that is).

I can hardly differentiate between all the villages and paths anymore, it's all blending a bit together in a wonderful kind of way.

Today we had an excellent stretch of biking to Riquewihr that we took very, very slowly, as you can imagine how tired we were from yesterday. Thankfully, it was overcast most of the day to give us a break from the hard sun.

The seemingly never-ending Wine Road...

See the tiny speck on top? Castle!

Yet another adorable little village we passed through...

I imagine that through the pictures and what I'm saying that the villages probably all seem more or less alike, and while they do share many similarities, they do in fact all have a different little "touch," certain little things that differ between them that make them distinct from each other, though I don't think it's as obvious through the photos.

Some have just one long road which is it's charm, others have cobblestone streets, others are all tall, colorful houses squished together whereas others are smaller and more spread out, some are definitely purely for tourists whereas others have nearly none, others have a small stream or a quaint town square, and it goes on and on.

An old tower and cobblestone streets,
the trademark of this village

A village we stopped in for a drink - see the castle on the
hill in the background?

We decided to stop in this village to explore by
foot a bit more because it was so charming

We hung out in this village for a while to wait out some light rain, and then hit the road again. It got pretty hilly, as you can see below. You could get in great shape on this trip!

Will it rain?

A nice, cool day.

Finally, hours later, we reached our destination for the day, Riquewihr, which I do have to admit is kind of like the Disneyland of all the villages we've seen. That said, it was one of the most touristy, but it was like being inside a fairytale.

Riquewihr

Riquewihr - it makes a difference when cars aren't allowed on the streets

Macarons!!!

A small square in Riquewihr

Walking along the edge of Riquewihr

Walking through the village

Ending the day with a great meal in a
cozy little restaurant....

... with creepy dolls in the corners.

Love,
Katie

The Wine Route! Day 5 - Chatenois

2011-06-02T02:21:00.000-07:00

Wednesday, May 25th 2011

I hitchiked for the first time today!

More on that later though.

We biked from Andlau to Chatenois today, again stopping through villages when we felt like it and enjoying the gorgeous scenery.

passing through a village

Biking along the Wine Road

Most of the time there was a bike path, here was a rare
moment we took the actual road, but there were so few cars anyway!

One of the most beautiful days yet of biking.

See the stork?

Yet another tower with another stork.

We made it it our next destination, Chatenois, but after dropping off our bags we continued to one village over by bike in order to climb about 8km to the biggest castle yet.

Biking one village over

Start the 8km climb!

It was a proper hike indeed. We were fairly exhausted by the time we reached the top two hours later, with this gorgeous view as a reward (as well as a well-deserved Orangina!)

View from the top - That's Alsace for ya!

On jelly legs, we hobbled over to the castle
Where we learned we had forgotten to bring enough money to go inside.
Womp womp.
We were still able to walk around a bit and see this:

And then, when I thought I wouldn't be able to stand on my own legs any longer, we were faced with those same 8km of miserable downhill climbing, something I've never enjoyed.

However! Why not try to hitch a ride with someone driving back down, as they'd pass where we parked our bikes?

Moments after we made the decision, a car left the parking lot on top of the mountain and Alberto stuck out a thumb, and wham, my first hitching experience that happened nearly instantly after deciding to do so. Huh!

A very friendly French couple drove us the winding ten minutes down to the bottom, where I was thoroughly relieved to have spared my legs that torture.

Oh wait, now we gotta bike back to Chatenois. Mergh.

Til next time!

Love,

Katie

The Wine Route! Day 4 - Andlau

2011-06-02T01:33:00.000-07:00

Tuesday, May 24th 2011

It just keeps getting better and better.

We headed out this morning to continue biking to our next destination, Andlau, stopping through and passing by many villages that looked just like this.

In the heart of the Wine Road now!

Biking through another village

I'm really finding myself at a loss for words to describe all this beauty - Hopefully the pictures can convey some of that for you.

Biking along these long stretches of road not only allows your eyes to wander, but the further and further you go, the more hyptonized you become by the beauty and your mind wanders, too, in all sorts of wonderful directions. I wonder if I had a single negative thought while biking during this trip? I found myself lazily trying to form words to later describe what I was seeing and how I was feeling, I thought most often of my family and how I wish they could experience this as well, but perhaps more often than not, I simply rolled through the vineyards and soaked in the sun while thinking not much at all, content to be absolutely present in the moment and marvel at all that was around me.

We made it to Andlau by the afternoon and found an excellent little cafe where we refueled with some coffee and cakes. They had this great little outdoors place to sit, but in between all the buildings so it felt like our own little secret garden.

Not a bad place to refuel, eh?

Alberto had planned us arriving so early so that we could spend the afternoon hiking around the mountains that line the Wine Road, as I've mentioned.

Making our way through the vineyards to
go on a hike!

On our way to the mountains

View from the path

Getting higher and higher - you can see Andlau in the background!

Our path

Arriving in the woods

There were two old castles to see along our hike, both in different states of ruins though either restored or in the process of:

Inside the "castle"

We walked for hours. We finally got to the top and had an excellent view of Andlau from a different perspective this time:

There be Andlau!

And then, we just kept on walkin'

Some flowers along our hike

Walking walking walking

Even in good company, there is much silence with so much ground to cover, and again it's been very interesting for me to see where my mind wanders, or if it does at all. Walking through the woods here was quiet and peaceful.

We did make it back to Andlau, however, rather fatigued and ready for a good, hearty meal. Not before seeing some more of this gorgeous little village.

A small stream running through Andlau

Life in the tiny streets

A very elaborately decorated front porch!

The Virgin Mary popping up once again in the middle of nowhere

Til the next time!

Love,

Katie

The Wine Road! Day 3 - Obernai

2011-06-02T00:58:00.000-07:00

Monday, May 23rd 2011

Oh, what a glorious day.

The bike ride from Strasbourg to the village of Obernai is one of the happiest, most beautiful bike rides I've ever experienced. There were gorgeous green trails that led us out of the bigger city, where we followed the tiniest of streams through the country, trying not to fall off our bikes from all the looking around we did, whether it be at nature itself or horses or the STORKS, which are everywhere in this region!

Biking to Obernai from Strasbourg

We passed through village after village, some being just one long road long, with quaint little houses and streams under trees, until quite suddenly, we found ourself out of it all and truly at the beginning of the wine road:

The beginning of the vineyards and mountains!

Passed through so many villages that
I don't remember which one this is!

In one of the villages, a man was selling a lot of fresh, hand-picked cherries for just a few bucks, and so we bought some and chatted while he let us fill up our water bottles at a tap, telling us how he's been eating these cherries 50 years unwashed, never having a problem. My stomach would disagree with this statement 20 minutes later, though one might argue it's because I ate about half that box. We biked on a little further to a grassy patch in the shade and has pit-spitting contests and I stained my tongue bright red with the best cherries I've ever had.

Biking along the Wine Road

We finally arrived to Obernai, bags feeling considerably heavier, but were able to dump them at the hotel and take the 30 minute walk that it takes to see the whole town.

Obernai

The "Main Square" in Obernai

So tiny, so cute. If you walked to the edge of it, you could see it was wrapped up like a pig in a blanket with the old walls that used to protect it, still there because, well, it's really cool.

Walking around the edge of Obernai

Obernai

As you can see, it's incredibly picturesque, and it's a shame that the camera can't catch the feeling of being among all these cozy, gorgeous homes and the tiny, cobblestone side streets we walked down to see them all.

Obernai

1564 - the buildings here were OLD,
many having the dates on them like this one.

More to come!

Love,

Katie

The Wine Road: Day 1 and 2: Strasbourg

2011-05-29T13:32:00.000-07:00

Saturday, May 21st 2011

(also, might I recommend zooming in on pictures here and there, as they're much more clear when enlarged!)

So today I got married.

Let's retrace the events that led up to this confusing event.

It's day one of the Wine Road bike trip through Alsace and we've arrived by train to Strasbourg. We're here for 2 days since it's quite big with a lot to explore, so we lock up our bikes and head out to discover the city on foot.

I felt like I was in another country. The architecture could not be more different from anything else I've seen in France, and German (and another dialect) are heard more often than French. Not surprising, as this region has swapped back and forth from being France and Germany several times.

But would ya take a look at this city?? We were able to walk around for hours admiring the buildings and silly little river that seemed to get lost a lot so it would just split around different buildings and become two rivers, or three, or a pond if it felt like it.

Strasbourg!

Another big difference is that where grays and blues are used in most parts of France, red stone is used here, as you can see with the beautiful cathedral, where a bride just happened to be walking into as we approached.

Well would ya look at that.

But most of the buildings were of this style, which elicited a high-piched "eeee!" out of me every time I saw one until even I was making myself go deaf.

Oh yea, the marriage thing.

Well. We're on a bike trip and yet Alberto's bike seat was slightly damaged from a fall he took while biking through Baume-les-Messieurs, so when we stumbled upon a bike workshop, we hopped right into it and into the hands of a friendly volunteer, 40-something Patrick, who found our bi-cultural couple-ness rather cute.

So with said bike seat in one hand and a greasy wrench in the other, he chatted away, asking questions about us and cracking me up with his quirkiness (that I so wish I had in French) and about 10 no-bike-seat-solutions-in-sight minutes later, he asked what will happen to us once I go back to the US.

"Go your own ways?!" he said. "No no no, that won't do. Why don't you go to the US Alberto??"

to which Alberto replied, "Well, it's kinda difficult to get over there..."

"Nonsense!" said Patrick, "Just get married! It's so easy."

With barely enough time to exchange amused looks between us, Patrick started the ceremony.

"Really, let's just do it right here," he said. He cleared his throat.

"In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit..."

Oh geez, I thought. Can't we just get the bike seat...

"Nyah nah nah nah do you take blah blah blah... through this and that... blah blah blah..."

Alberto and I stood watching Patrick bemusedly as he went on, blessing us with the wrench and then realizing the problem of not having a witness.

No big deal. He walks out the front door and grabs an old bald man with a cup of beer in hand and the buggiest eyes you've ever seen.

"Yes, thank you sir, if you could just be a witness now..." says Patrick.

The man stands there slightly confused but is intrigued enough to stay a few moments while sipping on his beer and watching Patrick finish the ceremony and divorcing us in the same breath that pronounced us man and wife.

The entire time, Alberto and I hadn't said a word. We were too busy laughing at Patrick's good-naturedly bizarre ways and enjoying the randomness of it all.

...

"So about that bike seat...?" Alberto tries again.

"Ah, yep, not much we can do about that," says Patrick.

Huh. Well. We stuck around to chat a bit more, being in no particular hurry, and quite enjoyed the company of our new friend / priest? / divorce attorney.

And that's the story of how I got accidently-not-really-married in Strasbourg.

Oh and then we went for a walk and a band was playing in a little square and I resumed my "eeee" squeaking.

Oh and there was this fantastic lamp store that stayed lit up at night that I think should be mentioned in travel guides.

Future living room?!

Strasbourg, Day 2 - May 22nd

Sunday in France! Which translates to the majority of things being closed but it doesn't matter anyway because we went on a bike ride through the city.

We found ourselves in a beautiful big, green garden with a zoo at one end and a big building at the other hosting a sort of Free-Trade fair, where I heard my named called, spun around in confusion and found myself getting kisses planted on each cheek from none other than...that's right, Patrick!

Turns out, he loves being green and so he accompanied us on our tour or fair trade goods and treated us to a cup of delicious green tea all while keeping up an endless steam of advice and facts and jokes. Really, you'd think he'd been saving up all these things to say for years, but he was like this with everyone he talked to. Luckily he had (mostly) interesting things to say. We all sat outside under a tree after and discussed energy and politics and I was thoroughly baffled, though well-hydrated, by the end.

Anyway, we said goobye again and decided that next on our bike tour would be Germany! We were so close to the border that we decided to just hop right on over to "Kohl" by biking across "The Bridge of Europe" and found it to be unextraordinary and rather ugly in some places with the same poor customer service I've grown so accustomed to here in France. It did have this one cute little church though:

The rest of the day was confused weather, which I thoroughly enjoyed as half the sky was bright and sunny and the other half was angry and dark and raining somewhat on the sunshine. Or something. It looked like this:

I'm most looking forward to tomorrow when we get started on the real Wine Road journey and get knee-deep in vineyards. Til then!

Love,
Katie

The Wine Road! Plans

2011-05-27T13:00:00.000-07:00

Friday, May 20th

Tomorrow (Saturday May 21st) I'm going to be biking with Alberto through the "Wine Road" (La Route des Vins) over about an 8 day period in the region of Alsace, which is north of Besancon.

We will be starting in Strasbourg and making our way to Colmar, though the road does continue further past that (altogether it's about 105 miles / 170 km). We'll be taking our time biking village to village, stopping when and where we want to tour around them and visit a castle here and there.

It should be pretty beautiful - if you look at the map, you can see how many small villages dot along the road, all of which are surrounded by vineyards, with the Vosges mountains to your right the whole way.

The Wine Road in Alsace

Love,
Katie

Love at last

2011-05-26T01:23:00.000-07:00

Early April 2011

I have found the love of my life.
He's from around here, seen a lot of the region.
He loves the outdoors like me, he's been to so many places.
He loves to travel and never seems to get tired.
He is very reliable and never too far away.
We met last fall and spent a little time together,
but didn't see each other at all during the winter.
Now that it's spring,

We can finally be together again.

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Let me introduce you !

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I hope you didn't fall for that.

Anyway, he has no official name but he's totally mine, in a someone-lent-it-to-me-for-the-year kind of way. As soon as the weather got nice in April, I hit the bike paths. Never will I be able to accurately describe the liberating feeling of flying along the river on this guy and through the country with the fresh spring air waking me up inside out.

The smell alone of the grass and flowers and everything else there is to wake up is something I cherish more than any material thing I've ever stumbled across.

mmmm spring.

A house along the river on the bike path

One of the best parts about this biking path is that there are a dozen hiking paths sprinkled along the way, so at any given moment if I feel like hopping off my bike and going for a hike, well, I just lock it up and do it.

Biking along the river Doubs - stopping to
hike up a trail and catching a shot of a little girl leading the way -
(click to enlarge if you can't really see)

Turns out, this particular hike took me to the old "Fort Planoise" and also to a beautiful lookout point.

Another day, another mystery path led me to one of the most beautiful look-out points I had ever stumbled across:

You know, I've often described this time abroad to people as a "deep breath" before diving into graduate school, and it's also quite literally true. I have spent more time outdoors during this period of my life than any other, and never have I breathed so much fresh air, never have I covered so much ground, never have I experienced so many moments of calmness and tranquility in all the forests I've walked through, all the hills and mountains I've climbed up, all the rivers I've wound around on my bike.

Something feels so changed within me this year. I did not connect with many French people as I had hoped to (though I did meet a handful of amazing people!), but I did unexpectedly fall in love with nature and feel connected to it in a way that may be similar to the way one feels connected to a friend, the kind where, when it comes to talking, less is more.

To help me elaborate - when I was traveling in Scotland, I met a middle-aged Australian man on a train. He was in the middle of living his "extraordinarily interesting life," as he put it, and while I found him slightly full of himself, he said something that stuck with me. When I spoke to him of the mountain Ben Nevis I had recently climbed, he said,

"Ah, yes, excellent. Climbing mountains. Walking along the paths, climbing to the top and then down again, you're having a conversation with the mountain. This old, ancient thing that has lived so much but always been in the same place, and you, so young and alive and full of movement crossing over it, it's a beautiful kind of communication."

He said it better than I could have. This is what I feel when it comes to all the ground I've trekked over, all the pavement my bike tires have met, all the snow that provided a soft landing when I slipped and fell during my winter hikes.

However, depsite how well my relationship with nature was going, something I struggled with while in Besancon was feeling very un-needed. The "job" I had was basically the French government paying for babysitters in the classroom, and I was often left feeling like Besancon would not even notice I came and left. I wanted so much to do something that would leave behind some kind of impression, and perhaps with the exception of several students, I frankly wonder if most of the students even knew my name at the end of 7 months.

That's not to say I didn't learn a lot, because I absolutely did. But the feeling of being needed was very absent this year. However, over time I realized that that was okay, because, quite simply, I needed Besancon. I needed the time I spent outdoors to slow down, to see life un-blurred. It's not the first time I've learned this lesson, nor do I expect it will be the last, but the life of a college student certainly does not allow for a slow-paced life style, and I could even broaden this to the average American who tries, in my opinion, to do too much in general.

So, while I normally prefer for any kind of relationship to be more balanced in terms of giving and taking, I don't think the hills and rivers of this region minded that I was a little needy this year, and perhaps they, too, enjoyed the many silent conversations we had.

Walking all over nature
and nature not minding

So, work is over April 15th and then I'm off to travel alone for 2 weeks in England and Scotland, then I will bike the "Wine Route" in the region of Alsace for a week with Alberto, and finally, May 30th, I will make my way to Madrid, Spain for about 7 weeks before coming home on July 19th.

Til the next time!

Love,

Katie

Family in France! Day 9 - Besancon: Ornans and saying goodbye

2011-05-14T01:00:00.000-07:00

Today was the last full day of the trip. We took it easy. I took them to the very picturesque village of Ornans by bus, about 30 minutes away. We then finished with a classy meal at the nicest restaurant in Besancon!

Ornans

Dad

"Saw the small town of Ornans today too, even more in the countryside.

Dad and n Ornans

It's been more relaxing here, to just go at a slower pace and enjoying things, to enjoy the sights and views, didn't feel rushed to go anywhere or see anything. In Paris, it's like – gotta see the Eiffel Tower or Louvre, but here, it didn't feel like I had to do anything.

Dad feeling unrushed :)

The people are pretty friendly here [in Besancon], easy to get along with. Having that river go around the whole place, it's beautiful. Nice place to walk around.

Going for a walk in Ornans

I'm glad I was able to come and experience this. Hopefully these memories will stay with me for a while, at least a week or two (laughs). We've got pictures to remind us of a special time that our family spent together. Probably won't happen again – in France at least. Gotta get everyone to go to Alaska now. "

Donna capturing a comical moment of Dad teaching me about ducks

The lessons never end - Dad teaching me how to catch flies :) --
Please ask him about this story

Donna

"Went to Ornans – cute town, beautiful scenery on the way.

Walkin a country road

The whole trip – loved it! loved it! loved it! Wouldn't have missed it for the world."

A night on the town

Brasserie du Commerce

Classy dinner!

Dessert

Last night out in Besancon in front of the restaurant

These days have gone by faster than any other time I've ever been abroad.

We had sunshine for 10 days, and during the 5 minutes they boarded the train the next morning, it downpoured. I waved goodbye as the train moved away, and the rain let up. Even France was sad to see them go.

I will never forget all the special memories created on this trip, thanks to everyone for making it happen.

Love,
Katie

Family in France! Day 8 - Besancon: The Citadel

2011-05-12T05:14:00.000-07:00

I started my day before 5 am in order to get Pipi and Anica safely on their way to Paris to catch their flight to Berlin. It was simply wonderful spending as much time together as we had been able to and I will miss them.

For the rest of the day, Dad, Donna got to know "Btown" better. We found a charming handmade jewelry store and took our time winding through the streets downtown, ending up having a coffee at Bar de l'U, or, The University Bar, where I've spent many an hour uploading pictures and poking around online while drinking coffee among a plethora of colors.

Dad and Donna outside the bar

Never been there so early - look how empty!

Donna in Bar de l'U

We then wandered over the the Citadel - the UNESCO World Heritage Site that Besancon is so proud of. We decided to brave the climb (instead of the bus) to the top of the hill in the center of the city, and Dad and Donna particularly enjoyed the views:

Climbing up to the Citadel

About halfway there - the river Doubs in the background

It got quite steep at some points, but they were troopers

Dad coming out from the stairs

A view of the downtown from the top of the hill

The entrance to the Citadel

Interestingly enough, the Citadel is a part-zoo. It also has several rooms that serve as different exhibitions, as well as the permenant rooms where you can learn about the Citadel and it's history, as well as the architect, Vauban.

Making our way to the heart of the citadel and passing some... emu/ostrich-esque animals

Inside the citadel, climbing to a tower to walk the circumference

Walking around the top; inside view of the Citadel

Everyone's favorite part were the stunning views from the top of the surrounding hills - it's a very green city.

The Citadel wall

Dad and Donna tiny specks, walking along the wall with Besancon in the background

Taking a rest in some shade

Admiring the way the river runs through the city,
making the Citadel an excellent natural defence

View from the Citadel

Can you see the head peaking out the tower?

Dad and Donna poking their heads out to look out into the city

Reverse view

Another view from the inside of the Citadel -
the main courtyard (with a chapel on the right)

Dad

"Besancon is a very beautiful city surrounded by good-sized hills. The citadel took a while to climb but it was well worth the trip up there because you could see the whole layout of the town and surrounding country. Great place to live if you're organized – you've got an army... very strategic location, got a river, too. The sights were just awesome, beautiful beautiful beautiful. The town's pretty quaint, though I think I'd prefer to live outside the town more in the countryside. "

Donna

"I loved the citadel. I'd look at the top and think, eugh, Katie's already at the top... Got a little scared at the top, it was so far down... (Dad: Donna was afraid, haha). It was a breathtaking view. The big hill with the river and houses, it was so breathtaking, I just wanted to keep looking at it.

Of course, with you guys, it was just an enjoyable experience. To have Katie explain things to us really helped, and we can't speak French. To see where Katie's living was great, she made us dinner – the regions special cheese and sausage – really good."

And that's how the day ended - took the bus to my part of town, a bit outside of the scenic downtown area in a big, beige apartment building. I made them a very Franche-Comte (the name of the region) meal, and I got them back on the bus at the end of the night.

I still can't believe they're here!

Love from all!

Family in France! Day 7 - Lausanne, Switzerland

2011-05-11T15:00:00.000-07:00

Today we took a day trip to Lausanne in Switzerland. Being one of the most visually impressive places we've visited, I will tell you about our day through pictures - woo hoo !

Our train to Lausanne has 2 stops, one being in the small town of Dole.
We had enough time to explore it's quaint streets (and get in our morning silliness)
before our next connecting train.
(Nevermind the Piercing store in the background....)

Dad and I in Dole

Back on the train, holding on to my bags for dear life
so as to avoid leaving them anywhere they shouldn't be.
Note Dad's Brussels hat.

"The best sandwich of the whole trip!" said Pipi.
Ham and butter and the regional cheese "Comte"

Enjoying the changing scenery on the way to Lausanne

One of the first things we saw in Lausanne was this man from LA
who comes here every year to tell people to "Slow Down" and "Take it easy"
on the streets. He said "I'm kinda famous around here."
He had just been interviewed for some local TV thing or another.

He gave out free stickers to put on your car as well as an air freshener,
which was an image of him and "Take it Easy" written on it.

See me? I've learned how to read maps excellently by this point!
... sorta.

Lausanne is a hilly city, as our legs found out. This is the view from the top(-ish)
where you can see the alps in the background.

Same shot with family!

Inside Switzerlands oldest cathedral. This panel of stained glass windows
tells the story of medeval man, which was explained in close-up images
around the church - very cool.

Inside the Cathedral of Lausanne - that organ has over 6000 pieces.

I went to the tourist office and asked,
"So I heard there's a castle around here?"
and she said no.
Well.
She was wrong.

Took a quick metro to the Lake Leman - at the Ouchy harbor.

The moment we'd all been waiting for - a close up of the French - Swiss alps.
You're looking at France!

On the edge of the lake.

We really just couldn't take it all in for a while.

Hey Dad!

Dad, Donna and I took a boat ride to Evian, France.
It lasted about 35 minutes each way,
and Dad and Donna stood in Evian !

View from the back of the boat - that's Lausanne!

Where the Swiss and French alps meet.

Dad taking in the view.

On the way back, had some tea and coffee.

Dad and Donna getting off the boat.

We did an amazing amount in the 5 or so hours we had in the city, without feeling rushed. We got in a great tour of the picturesque, hilly town, and walked through the parks near the harbor and went for a boat ride.

However, these next two photos show you the aftermath of adventure (on the train back now):

ZZZZZZzzzzzzZZZZzzzzz

We then had a 2 hour wait in Mouchard, which worked out perfectly as it was dinner time. We had an excellent meal of steak, salad and "fries" with an assortment of deserts and some beer and wine.

Love from all !

Family in France! Day 6 - Besancon!!!

2011-05-11T00:18:00.001-07:00

This post was apparently lost during the Blogger maintenance, though all the others were restored, so I do not know what happened. It's too bad, but I will sum up the day in pictures.

So, finally, my family coming to see where I've been living and working for 8 months - Besancon!

On the bus in "Btown" as it was a bit difficult to pronounce -
they were happier than the picture shows, I promise!

Dad and Donna in a square downtown

Pipi and Anica walking in downtown Besancon

Eating our first meal at a ... Turkish restaurant....

Dad and I in the main square

On the oldest bridge with one of the many hills in the background

Our tour of the city took us to Fort Griffon, where I think there
are the best views - you can see the whole city

Explaining the layout of the city

Pointing out how all the hills have military forts on top

Walking around Fort Griffon

On top of Fort Griffon

Walking along the river (The Doubs)

Taking a well-deserved break in a park along the river

Pidgeon frenzy! People were constantly throwing old baguettes everywhere

We attended mass at one of the old churches
(this one being over a thousand years old)

Pipi and Anica just before service

Anica at the back of the church at the end of service

We took it easy and simply toured the main parts of the city and attended mass at 6:30pm. We were all tired and got to bed early.

Love,
Katie

Family in France! Day 5 - Tours, France

2011-05-10T14:59:00.000-07:00

Today we went to Tours, where I studied French for 2 months in 2008. It was really, really bizarre at first for me to be back, but then it was simply wonderful to walk around and tour the city with everyone. We spent the first few hours walking around the town and shopping at the market, and the last 6 hours were spent driving through the countryside (with a tour company) to two castles that we visited.

Newly arrived in Tours - in front of the Town Hall

Later I asked everyone what they liked best - here's what they said:

Dad

"The flower market was real nice, there was a wide variety of goods. Met a vendor who made some jewelery, which we bought some of.

Flower market in Tours - exactly as I remembered it.

Bought some lunch from a guy who handmade our food – very good.

Explaining / translating all our lunch choices to Dad

Went to the river, which was big and scenic. I would have liked to spend more time there, maybe eat lunch.

Walking along the river in Tours

Saw where Katie lived, very nice spot, overlooks a garden, which we walked in. Beautiful place to stay. Katie said hello to her former host-brother, he seemed kinda shy. (Nobody else was home).

Then we went on a tour bus, nice and scenic ride, you could sleep if you wanted to but I didn't. Went to the castle “Chambord.” That was a huge castle. If you've got the money and time, anyone can build one. This one was built originally as a hunting lodge but the guy didn't even spend that much time in it. We walked around all 4 floors, took pictures, very beautiful. You don't get to see that every day, you gotta travel to see those. Well worth it.

Chateau Chambord

Got back on the bus and went to the 2nd castle which was built over a river. It was more interesting, more to see even though it was smaller, which made it more homey. It was old, it's cool to think of it as, 500 years ago, they walked where we're now walking. This whole region is interesting because it's where all the nobles and royalty used to live and now we're here.

Chateau Chenonceau

Then we got on the bus and went to back to Tours and had dinner at an outdoor cafe and went back to Paris. Wonderful day. "

Pasta-y dinners with the train station just there in the background

Anica

"The first castle...it's like they were expecting a war, the walls were so thick, so much stone. There was also a little hill with a chapel. But they actually built the castle in the middle of a flat land, it was so huge.

Dad, Anica and Pipi walking around Chateau Chambord

I especially liked the small castle, it was beautiful. I liked the entrance and the little channels around it, the small apartments, a rose garden on the right side and a maze garden on the left side. The area around the castle was so relaxing. During that time, if you wanted to go somewhere to escape the hustle and bustle, that's the place to go. "

Taking a picture from the inside of Chenonceau -
that's Pipi and Anica in the middle walking along the path

Pipi

"I liked the flower market – it was a variety of stuff, it wasn't garbage, it was nice stuff. Bought a few things. The thing is is that it was clean and neat and orderly. You didn't have the hussle and bustle of Paris, it was a more relaxed atmosphere. A quiet, slow place there. It was more traditional, like I was expecting, got away from the tourists.

Of course they found the only booth selling knives and other kitchen cutlery...

It was nice seeing the place where Katie went to school. Seeing the look on the little boys face when Katie said hello... Those casltes...that first one was huuuuge, I just can't believe people lived like that. That second one with the moat, that was unusual. "

Pipi in front of Chenonceau (over the water!)

Donna

"The second castle was my favorite, it was very beautiful. It had an interesting story – the King Henry gave this castle to one of his “ladies,” Diane. It wasn't a large castle but it was very beautiful. When he was killed, his wife Catherine de Medeci (sp?) kicked Diane out and gave her a different, smaller castle.

Dad and I in one of the staircases in Chenonceau

Unflattering photo but Dad and Donna really enjoyed the windows

One of the many beautiful rooms in Chenonceau

Also, I liked seeing the apartment where Katie lived and where she went jogging in a park every morning.

It was so strange to be back after 3 years,
and wonderful to have my family with me

It was nice seeing her talk to her former host brother, who noticed she spoke a lot better [I knocked on the door just to say hello for a moment]. Oh and I loved the market, too.

Donna trying on hats in the market

Got to see where Katie got her food from – same guy still there! Excellent, excellent food. We had a real French grilled cheese, the best I ever had [called “Croque-Monsieur]."

Katie

It was basically a really wonderful day, and so special to share this place with them. I give them all a lot of credit for being able to keep up with the itinerary I created, which I suppose does require a bit of fitness - Donna is starting to joke I should start a weight-loss tour guide company, and I'm thinking it's not such a bad idea... I promise I will get them all home in one piece though!

In Place Plumereau in Tours

Love from all!

Family in France! Day 4 - Brussels

2011-05-10T13:20:00.000-07:00

On our fourth day, Dad, Donna and I went to Brussels in Belgium while Pipi and Anica braved the metro and went to Versailles (so you'll have to get pictures from them. Otherwise, here is the official site to give you an idea of the Palace).

Here is what they had to say about it, too:

Pipi and Anica (typed together because when I asked one of them about it, it really just became a conversation between the two of them):

"We had some jitters at first.... (getting there)...We got to the gate of Versailles...it was well worth the 18 euros. There were all kinds of incredible frescoes on the ceilings. We saw Louis the 14^th's private chambers that looked to the gardens, saw his bedroom, went through the queen's quarters. There was just so much...the kids quarters, a place for the relatives, study rooms with maps. They had a special dinner where the public could come and watch them eat...

And then we saw the gardens, oh they're beautiful...symetric on both sides, and in the middle is the fountain with a statue...There was a big, long rectangular pool of water that extended all the way down the garden. There were finely shaped shrubs in a pattern, really well manicured – they must spend a lot of time on that. There was a big war room where the king had only his top notch officers come..

There was a hallway with chandeliers (Pipi whistles) and the king's thrones, and a chair that they'd put on the elephant which would be carried by 4 guys once they took them down off the elephant – a lot of royalty stuff there. It's such a big place for people to live in – I read in the book it was started in the 13^th century for royalty to move out of Paris (Anica argues) No, it was so that the King could go hunt, they made it hunting grounds – they wanted to build something so that he could stay over night, and they expanded it, each king added more and more. Then the French Revolution came and took it all down and sold just about everything, burnt things, (Pipi: big garage sale!). We saw the door where Marie Antoinette escaped (Pipi: That made her day!) Yea it was quite a place!"

Next: Brussels!

Dad
"Afer gettting off the train in Brussels, we headed to the marketplace. The train station is huge and you could easily get lost in it, but the ride was nice. On the way there we passed through the outskirts and it was quite dirty compared to Paris. We stumbled upon the Manekin Pis and he was wearing an orange coat and hat, He was dressed up like that for Gay Pride Week.. he was actually smaller than I though he'd be. I thought, big deal. It's just another tourist attraction.

Laughing at how underwhelming it at was

The famous Manekin Pis...

Underwhelmed but amused and happy

Once we got past the outskirts, we went to the marketplace and it was a lot cleaner and organized, the place where you want to be. The buildings were nice, like many others we've seen.

Walking toward the main square... not quite there.

In the main square with Dad

We hooked up with our bike guide and spent about 4 hours biking and spent another on lunch. We saw many sights and covered a lot of territory – the guide said what we saw was what you'd would normally see in two and a half days by foot and you'd be exhausted.

Goofy in Brussels

My bottom was sore from the bike ride and a few steep hills, but overall, well worth it, it's the best way to do it, and it was fun. At lunch, we had a big bag of fries (cooked in animal lard!) with a variety of sauces. They were delicious and memorable. Had a few beers, one called Leffe – which was very good. The guide was well-informed and taught you a lot. He had a unique personality – the kind you like or don't like. I liked him. He was chatty.

Our amusing and quirky guide...who "escaped the corporate world"
and ended up giving bike tours in Belgium - good for him!

If you ever go to Brussels, you should go to a cheese shop. We went to one and they had all kinds of cheese and meats – pick one, buy some cheese, find a beer if you can, and that's the best part. After we had chocolate – you could spend a long time doing that. Gotta be moderate. Sat by the curb, ate the cheese and bread, chocolate.

One of my (Katie's) favorite moments was simply this -
eating cheese and chocolate on the curb in the main square

We also went to a bar and had 3 or 4 beers to try, which were excellent – that kind of stuff was my favorite."

Donna
"My favorite part was the bike tour beause I thought the tour guide was informative and funny. We got to see so much in such a short amount of time. Then the best part was the beer, the Leffe, oh and the Belgian chocolate, and being able to experience it with Katie and Ray. I did like the Big Square, seeing all the old buildings. The guide told us about the square and the history of the buildings, why there was some quirky architecture – he explained why a building was off-center. It was a great day."

Donna and Dad being spontaneously serenaded by
a random man while having our fries-and-beer lunch

Katie

And me - this trip was definitely about the little moments. There were no huge cultural differences or much like that for me, no big shocking moments or WOWS, rather, lots of wonderful little memories that added up to create one of my favorite days of the trip. Sure it's cool to see a big beautiful building or statue or whatever that makes you jump up and down and take a dozen pictures, but what I'll remember most about this day is the sheer fun we had biking around the city and being silly.

Pointing to the Atomium in the distance -
forgot to take a picture though!

The beer was really, really excellent. I understand better now why our guide used "because of the beer" as one of the reasons why he chose to live in Belgium (he's Argentenian?? / French). The cheese was superb and the chocolate to die for. It was nice to hand over the reigns to someone else for an afternoon to guide me around too :)

Love from all!

Family in France! Day 3 - Normandy

2011-05-08T22:00:00.000-07:00

Today was a really special day. We went to Bayeux in Normandy, where we got to pay our respect to a family member who was killed in WWII – Alphonse Colpaert. We did this at the American Cemetery and then walked along Omaha Beach. It was my second time doing these things, but it may as well have been a completely different experience. Being with family (or anyone, especially those we care about) can change any experience, no matter how many times you've done or seen something before. And as this was a very special event for all of us, I could not have been happier to have had this opportunity to be there with everyone.

But let's back up. We started with our first real train ride together, cozy in a big compartment where we shared coffee and some conversation:

When we arrived in town, it was interesting for me to see everyone's reactions to just how different it is from Paris – much smaller, much quieter.

Dad and Pipi in Bayeux

We got from fresh baguettes from a little bakery and found a stone wall to sit on while we ate them with some jam we brought. It's one of my favorite little corners in all of France, with cobblestone streets and a tiny river that cuts through it and this thing I simply cannot remember the name of... Do we say watermill???

Dad being goofy

Not entirely satisfied, we found a little cafe in the tiny, quiet street and had breakfast, part two.

We had time before our bus left for the cemetery, so we took a tour of the Bayeux Tapestry – almost a thousand years old! I had been to Bayeux before and I simply don't know how I missed this. It's a small museum, where literally the only thing in it is this tapestry (which is technically not even a tapestry...) It's about 240 feet long and in great shape. It winds along a wall behind a protective glass in a dark room and dimly lit (to keep it from fading) and it's simply fascinating.

Why is a long cotton cloth cool, you ask? Because the audio guides we listened to as we walked around us took us step by step through the story of it. It was divided into sections and the audio guide explained every scene. It allowed you to see the tapestry for what is was and not some long, unintelligible image. It's really quite brilliant. It's broken into scenes that tell the story of the events leading up to the Norman conquest of England, and they say the purpose of the tapestry was to tell the story to the people since most of them were illiterate at the time. Got no pictures of it though (click here to see the official website with the story and pictures if you'd like).

The rest of the trip I'll leave to Pipi and Anica – I wasn't able to catch Dad and Donna before they fell asleep.

Pipi

"Normandy – that made my day – that was the whole purpose of this trip. It was a chance to pay respect to Alphonse. It's like that priest said [whom we stumbled upon while walking down to the beach], “It's because of him, for his sacrifice, that we're here. I'll pray for him.” People realize that they've got their freedom because others gave up their lives. Seeing the beach, the cemetery, the exhibits – so immaculate and realistic. It was so real, there was nothing fake about it. It was the highlight of the trip.

Seeing Alphono's name on the cross....seeing your uncle's name on the cross, it's kinda unbelieveavle, it's unreal.

Here a piece of our family on a hill 1400 (? that right?) miles away. It brings Normandy to real life. It's emotional to see his name on the grave.

I've got few memories of him but I can remember seeing him at the house, playing games, running down the stairs...But the big thing was when he was in England and wrote me and asked how everyone was, and he asked me to write him, so I wrote him back – he sent me a picture of him... Saw an insignia on his shoulder and wrote back to ask him to send me one – and the one after that said “We're just waiting to go to Normandy,” and he told me he didn't have a patch for me...But he sent me that letter just before June 6th and then I never heard from him after that. He died on the 28th.

Each cross has a name on it, it made it so personal [and some say "Here rests a soldier known only to God"].

What a contrast from 1944 and today. The location is so beautiful.”

Pipi walking along Omaha Beach

Anica

“I knew how the cemetery looked from pictures but when you're there...it's completely different.

It's incredible that no matter where you look, all the crosses are lined up perfectly, no matter what angle you look at. It's a beautiful place, they couldn't have found a more beautiful place to put the cemetery, looking over the ocean, with that breeze...

It was very emotional for me – I wanted to go grave to grave. I wondered if anybody had gone to visit every grave, there are some unknown soldiers, I wondered if anyone had every visited those ones, at least somebody...”

Walking down to the beach

Katie again:

When we arrived to the cemetery, a staff member took us to Alphonse's grave in a golf-cart-like vehicle. She spread sand from the beach over the letters in his name so they'd stand out, and put a French and American flag on either side. Anica had lain down some flowers.

The rest of the time, we looked around the site and learned more about what happened during the war and June 6th.

Love from all.

Family in France! Day 2 - More Paris

2011-05-08T13:28:00.000-07:00

Today we started early and ended late. I caught everyone before they fell asleep this time though so they can tell you about it - giving me a break! :)

Dad

"Finally got some sleep after a long day yesterday. I was really excited to go see the Eiffel Tower again, but unfortunately my health wasn't up to it so Katie and I waited at the bottom while the others went up on the elevator ride to the top. After they came down [a bit under two hours later] I was feeling better and we walked to the Louvre along the Seine river, which was beautiful.

At the Louvre we saw hords of antiques, lots of beautiful stuff that I wish I could melt down (laughs), lots of treasures in that building, too many to mention.

Dad and the Mona Lisa - being goofy. There was a woman whose
only job was to stand next to it and prevent shenanigans

The Louvre! (and Pipi in the center!)

After that, we were pretty tired, but we managed to crawl our way over to the Notre Dame, where we saw one of the oldest churches I've ever laid eyes on. Very beautiful and lots of work was put into making that place.

Inside the Notre Dame

Took lots of pictures then we wandered over to the Luxumburg Garden and Palace, everything was really pretty, bought a sugar crepe, gobbled that down.

At the Lumumburg Gardens

Then got on the metro back to the hotel where we each had a small pizza apiece, took showers and went to bed, it was a long day. It was a good experience, hopefully I won't forget it, but like you say, gotta live for the moment, and that's what we did today...til tomorrow! A new adventure starts."

Pipi

"My day was very filled with tons of walking – I got more than my 4 miles in – I never knew Paris could be so crowded and noisy with so many tourists...but it was all worth it there was so much to see, you just can't possibly see it all and the food is good, it's different, and I think the highlight was going to the summit of the Eiffel Tower. Never done it before, it was one of those one in a lifetime things that you never really think about but once you do, you think, wow, that was something.

Walk along the Seine River with the Eiffel
Tower poking out of Dad's head.

We're cramming so much in...the tour guide is great, she's saved us a lot of work and money, showing us where to go and how, it's invaluable. What else...it's just, seeing Paris as a tourist....I was here in the army.... it was all work and just rest on the weekend and see a few things with the boys, but this is different. Things are good and we're looking forward to going to Normandy tomorrow."

Anica

"Today was absolutely gorgeous. Wonderful weather, sunshine and the highlight was the Notre Dame Cathedral, I've read about it and watched the movie but nothing prepared me for what I saw today. It was just a grand experience, thinking about the past, where the people built, how much effort was put into it, how many feet walked through it, how many masses were held in the place...Gorgeous architecture... And somehow, it gave me a jolt standing in that cathedral, almost a thousand years old, and that's a lot of history. Some written, some unwritten and some things that nobody will ever know.

Inside of the Notre Dame

And the Luxumburg Gardens were absolutely beautiful, and the Louvre....wish we had a little more time because it's really just unimaginable history and the works that are there in one spot, the whole world is in this one place, works of art from Egypt and Greece and Italy...how did they ever get it all together? Got to see the Mona Lisa, the original behind some glass....I'm sure nobody can get to it!
And seeing part of the mass at the Notre Dame...that lady was singing like a lark, I got goosebumps on my skin. And all that behind the alter...there are so many different kinds of chapels and saints, there's so much to see.

But there's no senior discounts here!"

Donna

"Today was just a beautiful experience. Waking up to a croissant, unlike any croissant I've had in the US. I like our hotel. I like this area, walking to and from everywhere. I even like the outdoor toilets (laughs). Going to the Eiffel Tower is quite an experience, it's so much bigger than I had imagined. To ride to the top – wow, I mean, we went from the ground floor to the mid-level then to the top, you can see way past the Arc de Triomphe, all the way to Versailles. We saw a panoranic view of Paris. I really enjoyed the river walk. Even the annoying people selling stuff everywhere are interesting – it's all part of the experience.

From there we went to the Louvre, which was pretty awesome, I like the Mona Lisa the best, and the statue with wings but no head...(laughs)...

All the statues were beautiful. I liked walking to and from all the sights, too, instead of taking a bus you can see and experience being right there in Paris. You get to see all the people and stop along the way to have a drink at a cafe. And then Notre Dame...very, very beautiful church. I liked the outside better than I liked the inside, actually. I really enjoyed the gardens, I loved being outside...you get to see all the Parisians enjoying the sunshine and being outside and having a crepe was pretty awesome, and to experience it with everyone...I feel very blessed to be with you and your family."

Ending the day with a walk through the Luxumburg Gardens.

And me? Well, I'm still trying to absorb the fact that my family is here with me in France and that I get to show them around! It really is such a pleasure. It's been such a wonderful past few years traveling to and fro and being able to share stories and discuss it with me family, but for them to actually be here and see how it is, what it's like - that's so special to me.

Love from all !

Family in France! Day 1

2011-05-03T14:24:00.000-07:00

Bonjour family! (and friends, though these trip entries are especially dedicated to our family who we wish could all be here with us now).

I'm going to do my best to share a little every day (or so). We're thinking about you and love you all :)

Well.

The Colpaert's in Paris!

I made my way to Paris and met them at 2pm at a metro station. I was so overjoyed to see them that I slightly broke down in Dad's arms. Happy tears are good tears.

Poor them though - between them all I don't think they got a full nights sleep, but they were in good spirits and we got to the hotel and started right away!

Could not have had more beautiful weather. We went straight to the Eiffel Tower:

Everyone agreed it was much bigger than they expected. Dad was upset he wasn't able to touch it (as he had promised...) as it's up high on some kind of cinder block thing, so we settled for this picture to humour you:

Just kidding. We're going back tomorrow morning to climb it - or take an elevator...

We had a late lunch in a little park near the tower. I made sandwiches for everyone and brought strawberries and instant coffee, which was a hit (-ish) with even Pipi.

We sat on benches in the sun amongst many a raven, and had this view just opposite us:

From there, we made our way to the Arc de Triomphe, and stopped for some French coffees (with cream) which were a hit with Dad and Donna:

We finally arrived at the Arc, and made our way down the Champs Elysee:

At one point, there were a half dozen cars and other screeching vehicles that blazed a path through the street, and I'm convinced it was Sarcozy being escorted somewhere...

We had a lot of fun walking down the Champs, seeing all the big, fancy rich-people stores, including Swavorsky (spelling? too tired to check...) where we went in to walk up the sparkly staircase:

Around this point everyone was getting quite tired, so we head back to the hotel and out for dinner at a beautiful restaurant, where we had a delicious meal and the creme brulee knocked the pants off everyone.

Some wine - a cheers to a beautiful day and a beautiful family.

For fun I thought I'd get a little summary of each day from everyone, so I started with Dad and asked how it was, typing word for word what he said:

“How was my day? Nervous, excited, but controlled. Long plane ride, very uncomfortable, no room to stretch or nothing, did not sleep, am extremely tired....let's see, got to see Katie, the best part of it all, everything came together, train ride plane ride...went walking, saw the wonderful Eiffel Tower and the Arc de Triomphe, very historical. Got to walk down the Champs Elysee, and went into the Swavorsky (SP?) store, saw all the big shopping names, all the big money stuff. Very nice monuments there. Took lots of pictures, very memorable. Meal? The meal that Katie fed us was top shelf. A couple days ago...” (he starts to mumble something about geese and is asleep before finishing the sentence.)

Poor guy. I think I should follow his lead though.

Love and miss you all so much,
Katie

My UK Trip

2011-05-03T13:55:00.000-07:00

To get to the point:

I wrote a little every day of this trip with the intention of uploading it at the end, but on the last day, while saving the last entry, it froze and will no longer open.

One of the worst feelings of loss ever, but such is life and I will do my best to recover it once I have a chance, and if not, I will just have to suck it up and restart.

Now, off to tell you about my France family trip!

Katie

UK Adventure! Off to an almost good start...

2011-04-17T01:15:00.000-07:00

(written sort of in real time...?)

Day 1 Saturday, April 16th 2011 12:05pm

“You mean England and the US aren't the same thing?”

This coming from an 11-year-old mademoiselle on my way to Paris, who also just finished singing me “Proud Mary” in English. She has an iPhone in one hand and a nose piercing, and looks astonished to learn that these two places are in fact two places.

I then embark upon perhaps the first geography lesson of my life, explaining how there are 50 states, and THAT'S why I can't know all the film makers in Hollywood and see the Statue of Liberty at the same time because it's kinda big over there.

She's quickly bored and goes back to texting a friend, and I'm left staring out the windows feeling 100 years old and completely disconnected from her generation.

In 30 minutes I'll be in Paris, and if I survive the metro, I will leave for London to arrive at 8:30pm for 3 days of royal fun. Then I'm off to Scotland for 8 days of rugged, green adventures.

3 months of travel, coming right up!

Bisous,

Katie

–

2pm same day

I survived the metro!

Granted, I called a friend to verify my first move so the rest weren't compromised, but it could not have gone more smoothly. I dare say I'm getting used to the Paris metro.

On the other hand, I might as well have gotten lost seeing as I've been sitting on this curb here for almost three hours... The bus to London is late, and I made friends with two American girls (studying in Scotland) who are doing virtually nothing but complaining. This is what the last two hours sounds like.

Girl 1 - “Okay, seriously, it's like, 2:05, the bus should've been here 5 minutes ago...”

Girl 2 - “I know right? Like, what's going on? This is ridiculous.”

5 minutes later...

Girl 1 – (huffing and puffing) “Like, what the hell?! What is this? Where is this stupid bus?

Girl 2 - “I hate this, this is so stupid, why can't they just be on time?”
15 minutes later...

Girl 1 - “I swear to God I'm going to flip out, I'm seriously about to go nuts.”

Girl 2 – “I can't wait til we get to London and we can complain to someone.”

Two hours later and they literally have not stopped complaining.
Note to self: Sit far, far away from them on bus...

Talk to you soon!

Katie

Walking through winter

2011-04-10T01:03:00.000-07:00

(First, this is not a poem, just a new format.)

Let's back up to a time where I learned to get along with snow, and even play nicely.

The first snow came at night.

And I woke up to this.

I went outside to my favorite local hike, and walked through this.

I rediscovered all the same hills I had climbed when it was summer and fall.

It felt like a completely different place with all kinds of new magic.

We took the return path downtown, only to discover they had put up lights and opened the Christmas market.

Winter in France.

When I discovered hot, spiced wine for the first time.

Frozen from my hike with snow lightly falling

clothes drenched and hair tangled,

a woman singing and dancing and playing an accordian in the background,

that was cool, and never had I had a more satisfying beverage.

Winter!!

Where I squeeled with delight at all the little wooden Christmas booths

selling hand-made goods, jewelry, pottery,

homemade jams and other foods,

toys and other knick knacks that you don't really need.

Vendors frying sausages and others grilling waffles,

the air was so thick with smells it's a memory in itself.

So much maaaaagic.

Let's move onto the Festival of Lights in Lyon.

Where I learned that even a winter coat might not be enough.

Walking through the streets to and from each spectacle.

A slightly-gaudy/awkward fountain that lit up and made sounds you might hear in the woods...

A very cool 3D show on a big old building.

The face contorted in all sorts of goofy ways to equally goofy music.

Crossing the bridge to go back to our friends' place for the evening.

Waking up to a slightly gray, chilly day. Let's walk around anyway!

A view of Lyon from the top of the city.

The Bastille...

Not much to say because I can't remember much about it,

but it was pretty.

Let's take a trip to a slightly smaller town - Ornans.

A tiny village nestled between cozy little hills with the characteristic river cutting through it.

We'll start our tour by crossing the tiny bridge toward the town's church.

We'll stop and enjoy the fantastic view of houses on water.

Found the path - let's climb the hill.

Time to sit down on a snow-covered bench and enjoy a mug of hot tea while taking in the view.

A close-up of the town "center"

And of course, you can go hardly anywhere without the Virgin Mary being there to greet you

(seriously, she's on the top of an extraordinary number of hills, homes, etc)

Love and miss you all,

Katie

Nancy tastes so good.

2011-03-16T03:00:00.000-07:00

I can't wait to remember this.

I'm surrounded by all sorts of dead, stuffed things. Ducks, what appears to be a wolverine, some other birds, and more. Everything is in shades of brown and all is cast in a soft, golden light coming from an assortment of lights and lamps that look to have all at one point belonged in a log cabin. I feel so at home.

I'm in a restaurant that seems to have escaped the tourist trail. It's large and warm and full of loud, laughing families and friends from the area. It looks like nothing special from the outside, but I am about to have quite possibly one of the most peaceful and satisfying evenings of my life.

Our server is by no means a patient woman. Nor does she really feel all that much like a server as much as a stern, yet kindly grandmother, who obviously knows best for you. We ask which two of several plates she would recommend, and with a hand on her impatient hip and a roll of the eyes, the obvious answer is to just order them all. Duh.

We eventually opt for just one each. Not too long after, a huge plate is set before me. At first glance, you think it's some kind of pizza, but it is so, so much more. All sorts of cheeses and sauces and meats that I don't know the name of, but it doesn't matter at this point. The entire table is then taken over by the second dish, almost frightening you with its enormity with it's small mountain of ham and a field of potatoes. We are excited if not a bit intimidated by this meal.

The next hour that passes is one of the best I can remember. I barely remember any of the conversation (there was one, wasn't there?) just a blurry, seemingly never-ending series of wonderfully delicious moments that I will never be able to accurately describe here - it's better if you just go and eat there for yourself to understand.

Every now and again, you feel like something is going to last forever. You get so caught up in a moment that you forget about time completely. I wouldn't have expected one of the moments for me to be sharing a meal, but you don't question feeling infinite. You just go with it.

Eternities later, we do somehow finish the meal and are on the brink of coming back to reality, when who other than the chef bursts out of the kitchen in his great, 2-foot-tall chef hat, playing an accordian. He proceeds to sway and shuffle and swing all around the cozy restaurant, going from table to table serenading families and friends and babies and even the servers. He sings songs that I don't understand, but it doesn't matter. I just feel full of a happiness (and a good meal) that I know I will never be able to relive or accurately retell, and so I just enjoy and absorb the moments the best I can as they pass.

He ends with a lively song that's got everyone clapping and singing along, and with a loud "Yee-hee-hee!" he ends on a goofy note and takes a bow. Everyone claps and I'm just beyond words at this point, when he shuffles over to a baby in a high chair and starts right back up again. Guess nobody's getting their dessert for a while!

--

If this memory is reds and golds and blues and greens, the rest of the weekend was grays and blacks and the shades in between. That's not to say it wasn't good, but compared to the sheer life that we experienced in that restaurant, the rest can hardly compare.

Nancy was gray, not just in weather but in people. For some reason, nobody seemed happy in the least. So many people walked everywhere with such a drag in their step, it made you wonder if they were all upset about the same thing. It was just so obvious when walking down the street. We saw very few smiles or excitement or really any kind of real energy at all. Perhaps they all need to learn about the restaurant we ate at to spice up their lives a bit.

At least there was lots of Art Nouveau to seek out and see. We started our tour here, at the Place Stanlais:

Where everything was a nice shade of gaudy gold:

With a little help from a guide book and brochures, we found the following (and many more) Art Nouveau buildings / art (which sprang up around the end of the 19th / beginning of the 20th century). Nancy is the Art Nouveau capital in France.

We checked out the Museum of Fine Arts and it was the first time I think I've ever thoroughly enjoyed an art museum visit. I don't understand art in general, but I was a huge fan of this place, and of Art Nouveau.

It was quite cold the most of the weekend, but we bundled up and were constantly on the move and enjoyed our stay in this sad, gray-with-gold-edges city as much as one can enjoy a gray-with-gold-edges city.

Me at the Porte de la Craffe (1336)

Love,
Katie

Nancy

2011-03-03T07:37:00.000-08:00

The train arrives in the rudest way it can. I'm old and I've been through a lot, it seems to say, and I will screech the hearing right out of your ears if I feel like it. So, with faces still scrunched up from the terrible shrieks of the brakes, we board the ancient train whose sad, yellow exterior gives it the air of a large, tired twinkie.

We have apparently boarded the train that is on it's way to 1928. I take a seat and a deep breath, which comes out in a giant puff of frosty air, which is a nice way of learning you're in for a chilly ride. There are worse ways to start an adventure.

Alberto and I are off to Nancy, a few hours north of Besancon. He wanted to see some "Art Nouveau" and I just wanted adventure, so that was that.

View Nancy in a larger map

Frankly, I'm tickled pink by this sad little train, with its equally pooped-out, faded purple curtains that look exhausted from endless years of hanging around, and the depressed-looking seats that appear to have forgotten what color they are, resulting in a confused yellow-orange-gray.

I wonder what's in Nancy anyway?

Love,
Katie

words words words

2011-02-04T05:45:00.000-08:00

Perhaps it's a sign I should give it a break when two pens run out of ink in the same day.

My life is so many words this year. French words, blog words, journal words, Spanish words, letter words, sticky note words, list words, song words, English words. I had no idea I had such a huge crush on words. Who knew I had so much to say?

If desks could talk...

Well. Perhaps it's more that I'm enjoying all the different ways you can say things instead of actually having anything to say.

Today I got my second haircut in France. It's really a rather terrifying experience. Even after being trained by Loic on how to say "layers" and "side-part," I show up and more or less forget the entire French language, but it turned out alright again. Still got hair at least.

Okay. I just can't resist telling you all about The Orange Woman.

Just as I was about to leave the hair salon, a little old lady hobbles in like she owns the place, and I can't help admire how confident she is as she throws her bag on the hair stylist's work station like it's her kitchen counter, hangs up her coat in the armoire and puts on the little robes they use here, and goes and sits herself down at the hair-washing station like she's ready to kick back and take a nap in her lazy boy. The hairdresser is not phased and I imagine she's in here quite frequently.

Oh yea. Did I mention her hair was flaming orange? And that she doesn't have much of it? It's astonishingly bright and alive, you almost want to run over with a bucket of water to put out the little fire, but no wait, that's her hair. Cool.

It gets better. So, so much better.

She was wearing a bright orange coat, with a bright orange scarf of several shades of orange, and when she took it off she was wearing a striped...yes, it's shocking...orange sweater. And so obviously it only makes sense to be wearing bright orange blush and deep sea blue eyeshadow.

Ohhhh how happy this made me. She must be over 80 and simply exudes sassiness.

New role model!

I just realized I have less than 10 weeks left until I'm finished with work, 2 of which are vacation at the end of this month.

...

What??

Wow.

...

I'm going to try and find side jobs tutoring and babysitting to last me through the summer.

By the way, for my 23rd birthday, write me letters!

Katie COLPAERT
FJT les Oiseaux
48 Rue des Cras
25000 BESANCON
FRANCE

Thank you but no thanks to any cash or checks you were possibly considering sending. Not to be presumptuous.

23. Huh.

Love,
Katie

A healthy dose of embarassment.

2011-01-28T07:36:00.000-08:00

Today I face-planted it on the main stairwell in front of the entire high school where I work.

...twice.

Perhaps this is just another way life is telling me to slow down?

Hmm... no. Too obvious. I think this is just clumsiness.

It's really been quite a while since I've been good old-fashioned embarassed like that. Yet I was surprised to find that I was easily able to laugh it off, and I probably made the day of just about every student in the school (twice).

And, just a few hours before, I was working with my nursing students, discussing an image from "Friends" of Phoebe holding the triplets she just delivered. As she acted as a surrogate mother, you can imagine the vocabulary started to turn a bit difficult. One of the students was having difficulties expressing himself, so he came up to the board to draw out what he had to say. Science has never been my thing, but I knew enough to label his pictures "sperm" and "egg," and lots of awkward arrows and frustrated chalk later, we came up with "fertilize" and "conceive" and even "quadruplets." And then, just as quickly as it came, my life as a science teacher was over.

Walking (carefully) down the hall a bit later to make some copies, I pass a teacher and without even thinking stupidly blurt out, "Hola!" Woops. (my Spanish studies are going well though!) I try to shake it off but then feel inspired, so when I walk by a group of my students, I cheerfully pipe out, "Guten tag!" just to keep them on their toes (seeing as I can't stay on mine).

Tonight: dinner downtown with Alberto and a concert at La Rodia. Hopefully a weekend full of hiking. My back is feeling much better.

Hola. Geez.

Bisous,
Katie

¿Hay una farmacia por aquí?

2011-01-20T06:35:00.000-08:00

¿Hay una cafetería por aquí?

No, there is no cafe around here, but you can find me on the hard linoleum floor of my apartment hugging my left knee to my chest, repeating new Spanish vocabularly alongside a pleasant little Spanish tune.

¿Hay un centro comercial por aquí?

Is there a shopping center around here?

I puff out the phrase a bit more forefully than intended as I pull my other knee to my chest, trying to ignore the fact that the dust on my floor is sticking to me in an altogether unpleasant way. Note to self: Sweep soon.

¿Hay una farmacia por aquí?

At this, I burst out laughing at the sheer ridiculousness of my situation. Is there a pharmacy around here? my Spanish lesson wants to know. Yes! And, in fact, I have been to practically all of them in the past week for medicine to help my back problems, which have finally calmed down enough so that I stop bursting into tears in the middle of my mashed potatoes or teeth-brushing.

In my ever-going attempts to hit as many birds as possible with one stone, I decided to combine my vertabrae-taming breaks with a bit of Spanish review, and found the scene altogether too hilarious to keep to myself, and also as a more interesting way to update everyone that my back is doing slightly better, even if my Spanish isn't.

Besos!
Katie

Ready For Marriage!

2011-01-20T03:58:00.000-08:00

(as usual - a late post from +week ago)

The room is a confused mess of languages as I hastily try to finish the last Spanish tortilla at our tiny kitchenette while four Spaniards (ahem...they would appreciate that I clarified that one, maybe two? are Catalan, one is Basque, and the other one or two are...just Spanish??) and the lone Frenchie sit around at our kitchen table waiting for me to stop clanging pots and pans together so that we can eat dinner.

I've invited Elisa and Inigo over to eat with Alberto, Maxime, Clara and I, and the Spanish toritilla was a safe bet as it is:

1 - one of the only things I know how to cook pretty well
2 - a Spanish dish and the majority of this dinner party is from Spain
3 - it's ¡MUY BIEN!

They're trying to speak mostly French for the benefit of Maxime and I, but inevitably the two languages are interwoven together, forming a nice little Span-ench (Franish?) with the occasional frustrated English outburst between Inigo and I, as he studied in the Netherlands and is fluent in English but still breaking in French, and I feel like speaking the four words of Wolof I remember just to annoy everyone.

Finally, the tortilla is ready! I spin around with a little flourish, and as I set it on the table Inigo is so pleased with a little taste from home that he declares, "Tu es prête pour le mariage!" (You're ready for marriage!)Too bad my next move is to put the still-hot, greasy pan on something wet and lots of scary sizzling sounds snap and crack, more or less negating his statement, but allowing for a nice little chuckle from everyone before digging in.

As well all know, you can't eat at my place, or really, be in my presence, without escaping some form of game playing. We bust out the cards after we finished, which was really quite a bad idea, as describing and trying to understand directions in another language usually takes more time than playing the game itself.

So, we grab a pot, stick it in the middle of the table, and from there everyone thinks of as many popular figures to write down on scraps of paper to throw in to try game #2. We divide into two teams, and each round we have a minute to have our team members guess as many of these characters as possible. Round 1 - merely describing them in French...not bad, except that Inigo speaks English at first...Round 2 - throwing the names back in the pot but only being allowed one word this time to describe the characters you choose. Round 3 - throwing the names back in the pot again but not being allowed to talk at all, and instead having to act out the character.

Imagine, how would you gesture or act to convery that you are Britney Spears? Obama? Barbie? Sarkozy?

We had a great time watching Elisa zoom across the room like a bat to make us understand she was Batman, and when I got down on all fours and (tried to) put my fingers on my head I was OBVIOUSLY Pumba from the Lion King. Maxime was so confused and frustrated at one point to describe his character that he made very curvy outlines about 20 times in a row to indicate female but we were all let down to learn it was Queen Elizabeth, who is not all that voluptuous.

All in all, a successful evening, I think.

And to clarify: Not ready for marriage, thank you.

Love,
Katie

Happy New Year!

2011-01-13T23:57:00.000-08:00

I brought in 2011 by donating a freshly-croched, awesomely-striped wool hat to a German river.

Perhaps it wasn't so much donated as much as it just accidently fell off my head as I looked up to watch fireworks in Konstanz, Germany.

I was with Carolin and her friends, minutes after midnight, in complete awe of the fireworks going off in virtually every direction from what seemed to be the entire young population of Konstanz. Cups of champagne lined the bridge we were standing on, sparklers came dangerously close to our noses as we waved them in each other's faces yelling HAPPY NEW YEAR, and everyone exchanged hugs.

Eyes wide with a smile that practically hurt my face, I was leaning back against the bridge with Carolin so as to observe the endless exploding lights better, when the New Year decided my head was quite warm enough and so tipped my hat into previously mentioned German river.

Ah, well. Figures. That's what I get for wearing the presents I make for people.

Several days later, I was watching Carolin recede further and further away from me as the train left the station and I made a heart with my fingers with a slight pout on my face as she waved goodbye and went out of sight, still wearing the baby-sized scarf I knitted her and still claiming to love it. I saw virtually no sun in Konstance until this moment, when it finally decided to grace my presence and illuminate the ride back to Heidelberg, a ride that consisted of The Black Forest, mountains, and a random castle, all cozily basking in the most stubbern and sassy of suns.

And voila, here I am. Back in France in my favorite cafe/bar where one might think a rainbow threw up on the chairs, walls and even the heaters. Big, chunky gray stones line the walls of the cafe, contrasting with all their might against the bright orange and blue chairs, bright yellow heaters, neon green walls with purple trimming and paintings just as colorful, as though they're trying to rebel against the plain wall they're mounted upon. Needless to say, I love this place.

Life has settled back into some semblance of a routine. My work schedule is different every day and changes every other week, but there are still patterns surrounding all of this that make for some kind of routine. Coming back at the end of my German adventure felt like coming home, and I'm basking in all the warm, cozy moments as much as I can, seeing as the weather is about as grouchy as I am when I haven't had chocolate in a long time (aka it's misty/raining/mucky/gross).

There's nothing quite like coming home to demand your bisous from a beautiful Catalan flatmate, who pretends to consider the request, only to practically knock you over from the force of the most exaggerately huge bisous you've received, ending with a resounding MUAH.

I also just received a box from home full of stationary full of all sorts of things to write with and on, and I spent the better part of the evening running around with the box which was half detroyed from my excitement in opening it, and just about everyone in the apartment complex knows I now have butterfly-lined stationary with envelopes of a really nice shade of green.

Most nights I eat at the cantine in the foyer, as I found I don't see my friends who live there nearly enough when I eat at home in my apartment just 7 minutes down the road. Sure, they might serve for dinner what they served at lunch, giving everything a slightly deflated air, but I'm surrounded by my favorite people, and constantly meeting new arrivals, too.

One of these newbies is Elisa from Spain. She recently arrived and will only be here for 3 months. You would think I was a native from the area by the way I jump around like an overly-caffeinated tour guide, telling her all the things she has to do and see before she leaves, and then deciding for us that we're going on a little hike after she finishes studying a day or two later.

I love meeting new people if only because you can then do something you've done a dozen times before, yet it's an entirely new experience. This was the case when I met Elisa in front of the Center of Applied Linguistics, conveniently located just a few minutes from a nice little hike to Fort Chaudanne. It's another slightly gloomy day, but we both enjoy this, as when you're visiting medieval stone forts, it's a bit like mixing macaroni with cheese instead of chocolate. It just goes.

Elisa teaches me a Spanish rain song as we climb the slippery log steps to the top of the hill, and I stumble among the words about as much as the logs, and enjoy myself immensely as I'm in my first week of semi-officially learning Spanish, and I understand, like, at least 2 words:

I present to you, the rain song!

Elisa wasn't actually dressed up in a bunny suit or anything, but it was a pleasant little tune when she sang it too.

We reached the top, and I realize once again why I love sharing things I love. It's one of the best feelings to watch someone discover something and be excited about it.

We were the only ones up on such a gloomy day, and it was perhaps due to this that we rebelled in the least rebellious way possible, which was to enter the fort, which has a gate normally closed across it with a sign that says something to the effect of "GO AWAY," but as this sign was pushed flat and helpless against the old stone wall, in we went.

Really, it was just a lot of rock piles and closed doors, but we found a tiny, abandonned tower and decided to have a bit of an adventure. It felt so "Secret Garden." Except for the really brightly colored, awkwardly placed GIANT BIRD:

What are you doing there, silly giant rainbow bird?

The world may never know.

Love,
Katie

Germany - Life Is No Pony Ranch

2010-12-31T07:18:00.000-08:00

Tuesday, December 21st 2010

Things I love about Heidelberg:

1. Steffi
2. Everyone is really, really nice
3. The castle
4. All-you-can-eat breakfast buffets
5. Steffi
6. Biking in the snow
7. Hot wine
Things I don't care for:

1. The weather

This is funny, because apparently Heidelberg is known for getting the most sun in Germany, yet my entire stay here has not seen a single ray of light. I arrived on a cloudy day and have seen nothing but since.

The first day I finally went out to actually see Germany, it was snowing so thickly that I saw nothing but flashes of snowflakes before they found permanent residence in my eyes. I was also biking with Steffi in this weather, meaning that I was blinking the bits of snow out of my eyes a fair amount more than they were open. It was remarkable how many people were out biking in this weather. They also have traffic lights for bikes just like they do for cars.

While Steffi was taking her last exam, I walked along the river to the old bridge, admiring the beautiful homes along the way.

Walking along the river

Some fancy homes along the river

The old bridge that leads to downtown.
The castle is in the middle hidden by fog.

That night, we had delicious lemon chicken with rice for dinner at her apartment with two of her flatmates, where they spoiled me with English and hot wine and an overall great time.

All I need to say about the next morning: All-you-can-eat breakfast buffet. It was also here that I learned that the color of my dirty blonde hair in German translates as “Street-dog blonde.” I love this place.

While it was rather dreary and rainy day, it was oddly fitting for going to see the Heidelberg castle, which is mostly in ruins but quite beautiful. I felt like I had walked back in time, walking through the mist and looking over at the city down below with the old church sticking up in the middle, the surrounding hills not entirely visible because of the clouds, a slightly gloomy feel to everything because of the semi-darkness.

The Heidelberg Castle and view of the Old Town

We walked around in the old town and the main street was probably my favorite – it and the people contrasted enormously with the gray, dull weather: the buildings were various shades of red and yellow, green and blue and purple, orange and white and pink...the people were a swirl of colors as well, with some actually carrying rainbow umbrellas, others with bright blues and yellows and reds. As much as I love France and its various shades of soft blues, greens and grays, the brightness of Heidelberg really does something to lift your spirit.

Old Town

Love,

Katie

Wednesday, December 22nd 2010

Steffi and I arrive by train in Schwabisch Hall around 4 or 5pm where her mom and their 13-year-old brother, Christian, greet us at the station. Her mother gives me a hug and bisous's and I can instantly tell she's wonderful. Christian mumbles hello and then buries himself in his jacket so he doesn't have to speak more English. I've always wanted a little brother!

We wait for Carolin's train to arrive from Konstanz, and not too long after she arrives, and it's great to see her in “her” environment. What I mean is that I got to know her in English in America over 5 months, and I felt like I got to know her pretty well, but now there is a different air about her, seeing her completely at ease and comfortable because there are no possibilities of cultural missteps. I suppose I'm a bit more like how she was in the US now being abroad here, where you automatically act a bit more polite and a bit more cautiously, as you're not entirely sure how things work and are aware of how much easier it is to make one of these cultural missteps. They're typically small and relatively uninteresting, but to the foreigner, any form of embarrassment is magnified ten-fold, as you think it sticks out a great more deal than it actually does. This explains why a handful of my French friends thought me to be shy in the beginning when in fact I was just pretty nervous and it manifested in shyness as I wasn't willing to speak nearly as often, preferring to listen a more until I was more used to things.

Anyway, after hugs were exchanged, we drove to their home in Westheim, a small village of 3,000 just outside of Schwabisch Hall. It was dark during the drive so I couldn't see much of anything outside, but the inside of their home was cozy and warm and beautiful, and Mrs. Klose made me feel at home immediately, serving us home-cooked chili that tasted anything like the chili I've had back home (which is very little) because it was not heavy at all, rather, light and fresh with lots and lots of vegetables. We then had hot wine with a plate of Christmas treats and played a board game where the goal is to build railways connecting major cities in the US. I did the worst.

The Klose family! (save Mr. Klose)

The railways we built. Mine is the green-
lost in circles in the mid-west...

It's good to be here.

Love,

Katie

Thursday, December 23rd 2010

I got up around 8:30 the next morning and had a wonderful breakfast of coffee and fresh-baked bread from the bakery, with all sorts of jam and honey to try on it. It was a wonderful, relaxing day. I knitted Carolin's Christmas scarf (which could no longer stay a surprise if it wanted to get finished before the new year...) while she croched and Steffi and Christian alternately held and entertained Louis, their nephew who is about 7 months old. Steffi tried to read “A Short History of Everything” to Louis in English in her lap, but all he wanted to do was eat the book so it didn't really work out.

Steffi and Louis

Later that day we went into Schwabisch hall, and it was still just light enough to see it was quite picturesque, with old buildings lining the river that ran through it.

Schwabisch Hall

I was giddy, hopping around with excitement while the others just walked on towards the stores like it was just any other day in an ordinary place, which I guess makes sense since it is to them, but every little thing was special and new and interesting to me. I kept up a string of exclamations such as What's that?! Look at that!! Oh la la! Look at that building! for a while, which everyone found amusing.

Shopping downtown

We shopped for some last-minute presents and bought some wool and later that evening Carolin taught us all how to crochet (or re-taught, as I techinically learned a long time ago from my Mimi). We were all in a crochet-trance for the rest of the evening, sitting in the living room with the whole family and doing nothing but crocheting for hours while her dad watched an American movie in German on TV. At midnight, Carolin and I had finished a whole hat and the others were really close. It was time for bed though.

I don't really like my hat.

Love,

Katie

Friday, December 24th 2010

Note to self: Never, ever give a whistle to a 4-year-old for any reason. Ever.

Note to self #2: If ever peeved at anyone in the future, give their children whistles.

I have just met Carolin and Steffi's other nephew, Carlo, who is 4 and blowing non-stop on a whistle. It's kind of cute, for about 3 seconds, and then it's not cute. He and Nina, Carolin and Steffi's half-sister, live upstairs with the rest of their family and have stopped by to say hello. Actually I'm not sure what she stopped by to say as I don't speak German, so maybe they were talking about Jupiter or The Beatles, I don't know.

It's another really relaxing day where we all do practically nothing but crochet and read. We have pea soup and bread for lunch and then get back to the serious business of crocheting and reading.
Christmas Eve in Germany is basically the day to celebrate Christmas with your immediate family, so today is the big day, despite a rather normal start to the morning and afternoon. Turns out, presents are opened at night, and after church, which is at 4pm. They are Protestant, and the service is a play of The Christmas Story mixed with songs that I attempted to sing, and was grateful that nobody could hear me over the music.
Church has never been my thing. I don't like it, and I mean no disrespect to those who do. It turns out it's no different in Germany or a Protestant church, as a friendly elbow to the ribs from Carolin tells me, since I've let the 'o' in “Gloria” turn into a big yawn and have consequently stopped singing. I think to myself how this would be great language practice for someone learning German, though.

The play is cute, though it was slightly unsettling for a moment to see a 9-year-old girl playing Mary with a big pillow-pregnant belly. They're acting out the story and I can't help laughing along with the rest when they toss baby Jesus roughly into bed, blanket covering his face. A sheepish Mary reacts to the laughter by trying to make him a bit more comfortable by rearranging his blankets. Another forgets his lines, there's awkward and panicked glances among the children, someone remembers the lines, and the show goes on. The man in front of me in the pews is holding a young toddler, who won't stop staring at me, so I point the nativity scene to get him to turn around, whispering, “Look! It's Jesus!” and of course he doesn't look, so I stick out my tongue, and then have to hold in my laughter as I realized I just played out a scene exactly from a rather hilarious movie, as you can see here:

We then go home and sing Christmas carols while Mrs. Klose plays the guitar and Christian plays the French horn, while I butcher the lyrics again.

We have raclette again for dinner, and I'm convinced I need to own one of these in the future.

Christmas dinner with my German family :)

Racelette - meats with cheese and vegetables to create your own meal.

We then play games. I love games. I've never seen as many games in my life as I've seen in the Klose household. There is a stack on a chair upstairs and a cupboard stuffed full downstairs, with the odd game lying here or there. We play a couple that don't really require a language, so they're mainly card games, and that is okay with me. My favorite is Phase 10, mostly because I do the best at first, but it's also just a cool game overall.

There are so many little things like this that I want to remember, whether it's a new game or meal or even habit. This is one of the reasons why I love traveling so much; you see the way people do essentially the same thing but in different ways, and you can choose for yourself what you like best. Do you want to continue eating cereal with toast for breakast? Or did you like the toasted baguette with chopped tomatoes and oil, salt and pepper from Spain better? Or did you prefer the pretzel croissant with butter and honey and jam, or the roll with swiss cheese and salami from Germany? I could use a change from the baguette and butter in France, though I'm not complaining.
I feel like I am constantly creating a mental list in my head of things to try to remember forever, which often feels futile as there's too much, too many little things, to remember. Maybe I should start keeping it here and consolidate it from time to time?

Lifelong List of Things to Remember:

Acquire more board games. Preferably from garage sales or Salvation Army. Check to make sure there are all the pieces. Play regularly (Germany)
Go hiking at least once a week (France, Switzerland)
Go on a walk, even a short one, at least once after lunch or dinner (Germany)
Previously described Spanish breakfast (...Spain)
Eat fruit for dessert (France and Germany)
RACLETTE! Own one! (Germany)

We have over a foot of snow here.

Mr. Klose, “I live here 27 years, never see snow this much.”

In retrospect, I probably should've helped Mrs. Klose
shovel the driveway instead of taking a picture of it...

Lucky me!
Love,

Katie

Germany - "Beautifulness!"

2010-12-19T09:03:00.000-08:00

For the Christmas holidays I will be visiting my friend Carolin and her family in Germany! Here is a map of where I'll be travelling (starting with Besancon). as I will first spend 4 days in Heidelberg with her twin sister Steffi, then a week in Schwabisch Hall with their family, then New Year's in Konstanz with Carolin.

You can zoom in/out to get a better look:

View Germany Trip in a larger map

I left Besancon with the two German language assistants who live near or in Heidelberg, and arrived around 3:30pm to couchsurf with Daniel, a German student studying law here.

Daniel was incredibly welcoming - he took my suitcase up a few flights of stairs for me and I was immediately comfortable with him, but perhaps it was the Australian accent (he just got back from a year of studying abroad there). But no really, he was incredibly friendly from the start. He and I drank some sort of bubbly apple juice for a couple hours while we talked and exchanged stories, and he and his two flatmates answered my plethora of questions about Germany during dinner whilst eating raclette; an impossible-to-describe sort of mini-oven where you make little plates of food and put it inside of the thing to cook, and while you wait you have a bit of a chat.

I asked them to tell me about Germans since I knew/know virtually nothing about Germany, and we had a great evening discussing and trading cultural tid-bits that ended in me watching them play some pretty competitive darts for 30 minutes and the movie "The Departed," which was surprisingly good.

After a wonderful morning of sleeping in, we had what I like to think is German toast with German jelly/syrup, and Daniel and his flatmate were incredibly kind and gave me a ride to Steffi's apartment (Carolin's twin sister whom I've never met). We got a bit turned around, but finally we saw her waiting outside and it was really bizarre seeing and talking to her for the first time as she looks and talks and even acts like Carolin, but isn't, but we hit it off wonderfully and had a great laugh at the fact that she knew Daniel's flatmate. Small world!

I am now enjoying the beautifulness of Steffi's hospitality and the new usage of the word "beautifulness" that I learned while she was translating a German poem for me while cleaning dishes together after a late lunch/early dinner. If she reads this though, she might throw another pillow at me for continuing to mention it...

Her apartment is so charming and her room is big and orange and red with all the signs of someone who has lived and actually nested somewhere, which brings me such a warm and cozy feeling at the same time that I feel a pang of tiny sadness that I can't exactly nest at this time, but I didn't harp over it and instead spent a wonderful afternoon drinking coffee with Steffi, exchanging stories and laughing at a hundred little nothings. She is as warm and kind and funny as her sister and I feel so grateful to know them both.

I alreadly feel like I've known her as long as Carolin, though our stories are only just beginning, and it's beautifulness :)

I'm currently enjoying a warm cup of Christmas tea in an overly large Starbucks mug in a cozy orange chair under soft and cozy yellow lights with the cozy smell of cinnamon coming from a cozy red candle, and I don't mind for a moment that I've been in Germany two days and have seen virtually nothing of Germany yet...I feel like I've snuck into the lives of those I've met here in this midst of their living normally, and I'm experiencing a kind of happiness and excitement that has nothing to do with big castles or old historic towns or hot wine. It's about people, always has been and always will be.

Still gonna see the castle, though.

Love and beautifulness,
Katie

The result of a month's frustration

2010-12-15T05:51:00.000-08:00

Okay.

Imagine an alien journalist from the not-planet Pluto who was assigned to write about his experience to the planet Earth. He's so stoked! He starts a blog. The first entry is something like, “Wow! It's so blue and green and there are billions of people to meet!” It wasn't too hard to write, it was interesting and easy for his fellow Pluto-ians to read, and he was happy to write it.

Now imagine his assignment for the second blog is to describe everything in detail – the countries, the people, the topography, and all the knowledge that exists on Earth. He isn't looking as forward to that entry, so he keeps putting it off, but each moment he does so he learns enough to write a hundred more pages...and ladies and gentleman, this is a somewhat exaggerated and entirely unnecessary description of how I feel right now trying to figure out where to start and where to end up in this blog post, because my life has grown by such large amounts that leaving out any details would feel blasphemous, yet trying to include them all would result in dozens of newly-created and slightly incomprehensible adjectives from yours truly in an effort to justly describe my life here.

If I ever write a book one day, I think I could rightly entitle it, “Run-On Sentence.”

I have been here two months and two weeks. Or has it been a day? Or ten years? Depending on the day, it can feel like either.

To my credit, “BLOG!!!!!!” has been at the top of the last 17 or so to-do list's I've made.

Notice how I'm not-so-subtley talking about everything and anything not-blog-worthy.

Okay. Let's just keep it simple for once and go with the direct approach:

A Typical Tuesday in Real Time

5:30am - Wake up. Very grudgingly, mind you.

5:31am - Small victory as feet meet slippers.

5:45am – Drink greasy coffee from ancient coffee machine, chew cereal, stare out balcony window feeling slightly grumpy.

6:20am – Realize I have 5 minutes to do 15 minutes worth of stuff because I over-enjoyed coffee.

6:26am – Leave apartment at brisk pace to make 6:33 bus.

6:27am – Slip on ice because of brisk pace.

6:33am – Barely make bus. Stare out window for 11 minutes.

6:44am – Wait at corner in ugly part of town to carpool with Nathalie, one of the English professors at my school.

6:51am – Commence 45 minute drive to school, which turns into 1 hour 15 due to fresh snow on roads.

8:06am – Arrive at school. Spend 24 minutes making copies and putting last touches on lesson. I have 6 classes today (compared to the two I normally I have on Mondays and zero on Wednesdays, as I never work Wednesdays).

8:30am to noon – First three classes. All sorts of success this morning. Marie stayed after first hour to ask in an adorably thick French accent if “You uhhh...stay for uhh... always? Beecuhz uhh... I like yoo!” with the sweetest embarrassed smile and emphasis in all the wrong places, making for a warm and fuzzy teacher feeling. Continue riding on this happy wave as Hugo stays after second hour for the second time to talk about studying in the US, asking questions and impressing me with his English. Third hour was pretty standard; they're chatty but they enjoy my quirkiness, which is rare as most classes don't understand enough English to understand I'm being quirky.

12:00-1:00pm – LUNCH! Also known as the time I sit in the cantine among real teachers feeling slightly inadequate and embarrassed of my French, which sounds much less French when my mouth is full of baguette and cheese. Today there were fancy desserts brought out from kitchen staff because apparently an important person was supposed to come, and I don't know if they did or not, but I do know I (and most of the teachers) ate 4 tarts/little cakes/almond thing/cream puff followed by a cup of awful coffee, which almost tastes less awful when you discuss its awfulness with others, who gulp it down with a grimace.

1:01pm – Regretting the tarts and coffee. Too much energy, too little stomach space.

1:01 to 2:00pm – No class; odds and ends, chat with Aurelie (another English teacher and my personal savior, as she's been sort of in charge of me before and during my time here and has helped me out enormously).

2:00 to 5:30pm – Last three classes. Much less successful. After the second one, a student told me they had already had this lesson with another teacher. It was the same with the last class, though nobody told me. Turns out the next class would've been the same too, but I had a few minutes to hastily put something else together. They're at such different levels that by the end of the third class I had the impression it was dead boring for several students because it was too easy, while a girl in the back (who copied two full pages of notes) lets me know she didn't understand a single thing, making the more advanced students roll their eyes, while I sadly clutch my piece of purple chalk and wish the board would erase itself.

5:31pm – Reflect on the insanity that is the life of a teacher, and I'm just an assistant and only two months deep into the experience.

5:32pm – Tell me 5:31pm-self to shut up and remember the first part of the day was good and that I'm silly if I expect there to ever be any form of consistency in this job.

5:33 to 5:54pm – Respond frantically to as many emails as possible while waiting for Nathalie to drive back.

6:00 to 6:47pm – A comfortable drive back in the dark – the roads are much better – discussing the highlights of our day, switching from French to English as fluidly as a ping-pong ball bounces back and forth across a table. These days I literally have no idea what language will come out of my mouth when I open it.

6:47pm – Dropped off at bus stop, wait for bus.

6:53pm – Flag down bus. Get on, sit down.

6:54pm – Daydream about bagels.

7:05pm – Get off bus. Walk home at not-brisk pace.

7:10pm - Climb 5 flights of stairs. Think about how this is why French people aren't fat.

7:25pm – Eat dinner of pasta and ham, couscous, grated carrots. Cheese, check. Semi-stale baguette, check. Chocolate for dessert, duh. Check check check.

8:00pm to midnight – Go downstairs. Hang out with Alberto. Watch “Into the Wild.” Makes me want to go into the wild. Reflect on impulsiveness.

Midnight – Look at the knitting thrown all about my bed, begging to be finished before Saturday. Decide against it. Sleep.

I love and miss you all,

Katie

PS: I'm going to Germany for 2 weeks this Saturday!