Where Did the Time Go?

Bonjour tout le monde!

The past few weeks have been hectic, and have happened so fast that I can't even think of where I should start.  Last Thursday, we had our Thanksgiving dinner with all of the students from API, as well as our two resident directors, and it turned out to be incredible!  Everyone brought something to eat, and I was astonished at the quality of the food.  Who knew that after throwing a bunch of college students together, you'd actually get a bunch who can actually cook?

Anyways, the Thanksgiving dinner was nice.  Everyone said what they were thankful for, and everyone talked, shared stories, and all of the other mushy things one would expect.  That's because, in our own way, API has become like another family. 

And the next morning, with this family, we left for Strasbourg.  For those of you who don't know, Strasbourg is known as the Capital de Noel, and is one of the most beautiful cities I have ever seen in my life.  Strasbourg is well known for its Christmas markets during this time of year, as well as the beautiful Christmas lights that illuminate the city.

*Fun fact: Strasbourg is located in the region of Alsace, and has changed nationalities frequently in history.  It bounced back and forth between German and French for quite some time, and for that reason, the culture is rich with both old French and German customs. 

With that being said, here are some pictures I took:

The entrance to the city center.  Incredible!

Lighting up the tree was quite the ceremony!  There was a live performance, accompanied by a light show!  Also, check out the video below to see the work involved.

Lights like this were strung up all around the city.

And this is what it looked like inside of the Christmas markets...

C'est moi!

Please ignore the lady staring awkwardly at the camera.

My favorite city lights.  There's something about this street...

This makes me wonder what it would be like to live in Strasbourg during this time of the year...

There was a really nice trail that zigzagged alongside the river.  It was quite nice.

And now, here's a video of some of the acrobats that performed during the ceremony:

So as you can see, Strasbourg was incredible.  Exploring the Marche de Noel during the day, drinking a bit too much vin chaud during the afternoon, and spending a tranquil evening walking the city alone, seeing the lights.  Most people were surprised that I wasn't out partying, but that's not typically my scene.  Sometimes, the solitude is greatly appreciated.

And now, after having such an amazing weekend, it suddenly hit me today: I have three weeks left in the country.

Now for those of you who had been following me since the beginning, you must kind of find it funny to hear me saying that, because I said the same exact thing before leaving the United States.  It's strange how my perspective has changed so radically since I've been over here.  I thought my time passed quickly in the United States, but it passed even more quickly here.  To put it in perspective, I have only:

~ 2 more days left of each elective course
~ 4 more language classes
~ 2 potential runs to the Bastille
~ 3 weeks until my departure
~ 10 days until final exams

It's amazing how one's concept of time changes after being abroad.  Part of me is ready to go home, and excited to see all of my friends and family.  Not going to lie, I could go for a plate of boneless buffalo wings too!  But also, I will be truly upset to leave all of the friends I'm leaving here...

Rather than dwelling on how much time left, I'm going to embrace it.  Time seems even more valuable now.

I Guess It's Time For That Thanksgiving Post

Bonjour tout le monde!

      So today has been one of those days.  You know, one of those days.  One of those days where you can't quite figure out exactly why, but you're not in the right mood.  One of those days where nothing seems right.  But I guess that's normal, no matter what country you're in.  I could very well have the same type of blah day as I call them, in the United States. 

      I started off my day by going to class as usual, but then decided to go and vent out some frustration regarding my translation class to my resident directors.  Keep in mind, 95% of the time I speak to them, it's done entirely in French so today was a different story for me.  Voicing my opinion in a constructive manner, while frustrated, in another language, proved to be a little bit more difficult than I thought.  But i managed.

      My main problem with my translation course is that I feel as if it passes by so slowly for me.  I understand everything we work on in class, but when it comes to the exam, I always find myself completely and entirely lost.  It seems that no matter what I do right in my language classes, I can't quite get this whole translation thing down.  In fact, it's probably the most frustrating French class I've ever taken.

     And then, my program director pointed something out to me very simply.  And I translate, from French: "You are a bit of a perfectionist."

      And then it hit me.  She's absolutely right.

      Due to the different grading system here in France, I have become very accustomed to being pleased every time I see a grade of 14/20 or higher, and it does happen much more often than I feel it should.  It is practically impossible to get an 18/20 on anything in the normal schooling system, and I was shocked to have received an 18,5/20 on an assignment which I got back today.  But that translation exam... well that train-wreck was a 9,5/20.  And 10/20 is passable.

      My resident director said that perhaps because I spoke so well the teacher was more critical of me.  I would have believed her if it weren't for the fact that she does it to the other 7 people in my class as well.  So I guess next Tuesday I will talk to my professor; it's worth a shot, right?

      On another note, I just finished dinner with my host family, and I guess I can say, finally, that I have made progress here.  I don't have to think when I talk, I don't get corrected nearly as often, and conversations have slowly progressed into something much deeper... More intense conversation, even debates, and I can express my thoughts in ways that I never would have been able to before coming here.  I can make jokes, I can tell stores, and I can even call someone out when they're lying. 

      After laughing through dinner, I truly realized that this is an experience that I am thankful for.  At first, I was a little bit upset about not getting to spend Thanksgiving with my family at home, but I've realized that I've joined another family over here.  I have a family to eat dinner with, a roof to live under, and friends of all nationalities to back me up when I'm not doing so well (A particular mention here goes out to my German friend Jascha, who just gave me something along the lines of Tiger Balm for my forsaken knee).

      I'm thankful for my friends and family at home, but I will see all of you at Christmas and life will go back to normal.  For now, I'm thankful that I'm here in this not-so-new-anymore country and this enlightening experience.

     

My First Half Marathon - Les 5 Lieus Foreziennes (Part 2)

So, I woke up the next day after having had a series of turbulent dreams.  That night, I think I ran everywhere in the Sahara desert before waking up.  I truly was anxious for the race.   Anxious, but ready.

We made it to the start line, which was located not too far from our hotel.  

It really is true.  French people try to look their best, even while working out.

 

This was one of the moments where I came to realize how much France had actually become home for me.  This type of environment was something that I had experienced many times in the United States, and it was very much the same here.  I waited at the starting line with anticipation, and when the gun went off, I was ready to go.

The First 5 Kilometers

The first five kilometers of the race went by very quickly, and I felt that I had eased into a relatively quick pace from the start.  I wasn't breathing heavily, but I wasn't exactly crawling either.  After having finished the first 5K, I looked at my watch and saw 26:30.  I was definitely ahead of schedule for breaking 2 hours.  The crowd began to spread out a little, and I began to....I can't believe I'm actually going to admit this....... I took pictures!  Here is one of the first ones I took:

Yes, this picture is blurry, but I think it gets the point across.  I was indeed running through the country side.

 12 Kilometers 

So this is where I started to worry.  I remembered starting to feel some pain in my legs, and my knees were starting to ache.  I looked at my watch again, to see that I was still ahead of schedule.  And so, I took another picture.  See those cows?  Well let's just say that for whatever reason, they weren't happy with me when I passed by them.  I could hear them mooing for the next kilometer or so.

 16 Kilometers

I looked at my watch and was astonished when it said that I had been running for only 1:26:30.  This meant that I needed to run a 5K in less than 34:30 to reach my goal of breaking two hours.  This was a surprisingly easy thing for me to do, seeing as I had been running at roughly an 8:45 minute/mile pace for the past 16 kilometers.

And finally, after 21 kilometers

And finally, the end was in sight.  I saw where we had started the race, and I knew that I would break my goal.  But by how much?  I saw the finish line and pushed it as much as I could, passing four people on my way.  There was, however, one problem.  they were holding out a rope to guide us into the chute as we finished.  To pass the people, I veered to the side, and, well, let's just say that I came very close to flipping over that rope and falling face first onto the ground.  Luckily, it didn't happen.

In the end, I crossed the line with a time of 1:54:29.  I had not only achieved my goal; I shattered it!

 

 Yup, this is me afterwards.  And yes, this is my Y Life Team Challenge shirt, for all of my fellow coworkers and friends at home.  I was thinking of you!



And then, I had to endure the train ride home, with my knees unable to bend.  I was happy to leave Bonson and get back to the city life, but it was an amazing experience.  Did I run a half marathon through a historic city with hundreds of spectators?  No.  Did I get to keep the bib at the end of the race?  No.  I did, however find out that my friend Emily received 1st place in her age/gender group,  and that I received 4th place in mine!

This was something on my to-do list for France.  I can only think of one word to describe the experience though.  

Le bonheur.    

My First Half Marathon - Les 5 Lieus Foreziennes (Part 1)

And finally, the post I'm sure many at home have been waiting for!  As many of you already know, I had the pleasure of experiencing my first half-marathon with a fellow student Emily this weekend.  We had been anticipating this race for weeks, and I am pleased to say that the experience surpassed what I had imagined it to be.  Let me give you a 100% Complete detailed account of what actually happened.

Saturday morning, I left my house at around 10:30, and somehow managed to make my way over to the train station for 11:00 (Saturdays are typically much slower than the rest of the week, and I ended up missing the bus...).  We hopped on the train at 11:22, and we were on our way.  We made it to Lyon, and then Saint Etienne without a problem.  But then... there was l'autocar.
Finding the bust stop we needed to depart from was difficult enough.  Once we boarded the bus, I thought things were going to go smoothly... Until our bus driver asked Emily for her discount card which she had purchased for SNCF service at the beginning of the semester.  When we bought the tickets, she did not have her card with her, but the kind woman who worked for SNCF gave her the discount anyways.  When we boarded the bus, Emily did not have her card, resulting in a difficult situation. 

I wouldn't have had a problem with it, if the bus driver wasn't being so rude.

Okay, so my French isn't the greatest.  Cut me a break, I've only been here for two and a half months.  Instead of just letting her pay simply, he proceeded to lecture her about why it was important qu'elle pense bien de sa carte.  We were indeed off to a bitter start. 

After this, I had to call the hotel to let them know that we were on our way.  After calling four times, I received no answer.  In mid conversation I decided to make the phone call by chance, and sure enough the hotel owner picked up.  I explained to her that we were on our way.  However, due to my incorrect French at the time, she thought I was arriving at 1AM and not in an hour.  So I rexplained to her that I would be arriving at 4PM.

And finally, we arrived in Bonson, France.  Where is Bonson, France exactly?  To be honest, I still have NO IDEA.  There is only one way I can possibly describe the location of this town: in the middle of NOWHERE!  Below are two pictures that can give you an idea of where exactly we were. 

Look at this quaint little train station!  I felt like I was in the mid-west...

And this picture shows the expansive nothingness that was before us. 

Immediately upon our arrival, I called the Hotel Owner to tell her that we had arrived.  She let us inside, and began to talk to us.  She proceeded to tell us that we spoke French well (at this point in time, I'm still never sure if anyone actually means this or if they are saying it to make me feel better).  She leads us to a small room with one bed.


And this is where we encountered another problem.  Our lovely Resident Director Marie, who called and reserved the room for us, CLEARLY specified in French that we were not a couple and that we wanted two beds.  Emily explained this to the woman, who then brought us to a much larger room with three beds.  Problem solved.


Then, we went and registered for our race, which proved to be unimaginably easy and unimaginably inexpensive.  I was able to register for the race and only pay 8 euros!  8 euros for the race and a nice, tech-fabric shirt*!


*For anyone who isn't familiar with the running culture, it appears to be universal.  Half of the pride is actually completing the race, but the other source of pride is the nice shirt that says exactly where you ran.  I must say, I really did want a shirt that had my race written on it in French!

After this, we deemed that we needed to eat, and badly.  A runner typically loads up on carbohydrates and electrolytes for the few days before in preparation for the race.   We figured that we would be able to find a restaurant without a problem... but, as usual we were drastically mistaken.


All three of the restaurants in town were closed, and it was 16:30.

So, we began to walk towards a sign that said l'Intermarche.  Apparently there was a supermarket, and it wasn't far...by car.  We walked for at least an hour out of town, not passing one single restaurant, or finding the infamous Intermarche.  We became so desperate that we stopped and looked at a flier which had fallen on the ground.  It said KFC!  But it was many kilometers away...We ended up returning the the "town center", and reluctantly, a KEBAB PLACE HAD OPENED.  THIS WAS THE BEST KEBAB I HAD EVER EATEN IN MY LIFE.

Then, we returned back to our hotel room, and eventually, I fell asleep. 


To be continued......

The French Coffee Shop (en Français!)

J’apologise pour le son… Je souhaite qu’il ne soit pas trop difficile pour comprendre… 

Why I'm Really Writing This Blog

First and foremost, I must say thank you to all of you who have been consistently following me.  It's great to know that I have the people out there who care about me while I'm over here.  Second of all, there are a few things I should say before I let you look at the video below.

1) This was my third take of this video.  The first one didn't come out as well as I would have liked, and the second one didn't get my point across.  This third video was by far the best take, and I don't think I could be any happier about it.

2) Immediately after taking this video, I got locked at the Bastille.  The gate I had taken in order to climb up the mountain had been closed by the time I got back.  SO YOU BETTER APPRECIATE THE EFFORT THAT WENT INTO THIS!

3) To find my way down, I ended up following a French couple, Dmitri, who is from Paris, and his Italian fiance, whose name I can not remember at this time.  It was nice actually being able to have a real conversation with real French people, and they have my eternal thanks for getting me down the mountain unscathed.  After all, they were just as surprised about the gate being locked as I was.

It's all about the little victories here.

 

With that being said, here is this video.  And by all means, think about everything I'm saying.  That's what it's meant for.

Je veux parler aujourd'hui...

Donc, j’ai décidé de prendre un court vidéo de moi.  C’est plus facile pour communiquer, et plus naturel.  Et voilà !  

Sur le Pont d'Avignon...

Bonjour tout le monde!

Après avoir ne dit rien depuis longtemps, il faut que j’écrive un autre blog en français.  Je suis désole d’avoir été en retard.

 

Le weekend dernier, je suis allé à Aix-en-Provence et en Avignon.  Il faisait mauvais à Grenoble, et pour la première fois en 30 ans, il a neigé avant le début de novembre.  Tandis qu’il neigeait à Grenoble, il faisait beau à Aix-en-Provence.  Bien qu’Aix-en-Provence ait été incroyable, j’ai déjà parlé de mon expérience là en anglais.  Maintenant, je vais parler d’Avignon ; une ville riche en histoire.     

Quand nous sommes arrivés en Avignon, il était gelé à cause du vent qui soufflait perpétuellement à 65 à 70 km/h.  Rapidement, nous allons couru au Palais des Papes.

Selon le « newsletter » j’ai reçu d’API,  « le Palais des Papes est le plus grand palais gothique du monde. »  C’était la résidence des papes au XIV^ème siècle.  Dans ce palais, il y vivait 7 papes et 4 antipapes (quelqu’un qui avait prétend d’être le pape)  de 1305 à 1435.

      

Avant être entrés le palais, j’ai pris des photos de l’extérieur.  Voyez ci-dessous :

La taille de ce bâtiment est incroyable…

Mon amie Emily d'API.

Dans le palais, il a semblé que j’aie été petit.  Tous les chambres sont grandes, plus grand que j’avais imaginé.  Et puis, j’ai pensé à moi-même, qu’est que le pape a fait dans ce palais ?  Bien que j’aie écouté l'audioguide, j’ai seulement appris l’architecture du bâtiment et l'art on peut trouver dans le palais...

 

La cheminée dans la cuisine.   

Et maintenant, je vais vous donner les paroles à une chanson dont tous les garçons et filles en France connaissent bien.  Malheureusement, je n’ai pas pu prendre de photos à cause du vent violent, mais voilà.

"Sur le pont d'Avignon,
On y danse, on y danse,
Sur le pont d'Avignon,
On y danse tous en rond.
Les beaux messieurs font comme ça,
Et puis encore comme ça.
Sur le pont d'Avignon,
On y danse, on y danse,
Sur le pont d'Avignon,
On y danse tous en rond.
Les belles dames font comme ça,
Et puis encore comme ça.
Sur le pont d'Avignon,
On y danse, on y danse,
Sur le pont d'Avignon,
On y danse tous en rond."

À la prochaine fois !

Michaël