Alright, so this is going to be quick because for some reason I'm really busy. I have no idea how that happened. OH WAIT: I'm teaching more hours, have private tutoring, and have to do more prep than before. Also, life. (I'm going skiing again on Saturday!)
The past two weeks I did stuff.
First, I got very ill.
Then it was my birthday! I turned 23. This is me, still recovering from a violent cough and overall tiredness--must-stay-in-bed-and-do-nothingness. I got out of bed to say hi to friends. At 9 p.m. I went to sleep.
Vacation was pretty chill. Helena and I helped Kristen move to a new flat. I went to the Matisse museum with Helena and Peter. Then I made chili!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Like always, it was really fun to prepare dinner for everyone. We had good conversation, too (mostly about the American agricultural system). Hooray!
Then on Saturday I went to a Dutch Pancake Party! Basically this guy, Robin, is a freelancer, and he hosts pancake parties every weekend around the world. (The pancakes are Dutch because Robin is from The Netherlands). I met and hung out with a bunch of different people!
It was crowded.
This week, I'm participating in Read-O-Rama--a BookTube read-a-thon in which participants must read 7 books in 7 days and complete challenges. You can learn more about the event by watching my TBR (to be read) video below:
Since I last wrote, I've been getting into the swing of a new schedule, started private tutoring, read another book for book club, been to two birthday celebrations for the same person, learned to play another board game (Eldritch Horror), and I fell back into love with skiing.
I was never hugely into skiing. It was just something I did on Tuesday afternoons growing up. Now that I'm an "adult," I am tremendously happy that I know how to ski, and that I learned it when I did. It's the type of thing that just comes back to you after one warm-up run.
Not to mention, skiing in the Alps is beautiful and amazing. Here are some photos:
Valberg
Isola
I hope to go on several more ski trips before I leave Nice. Who'd a thunk Nice was a good place for a skier??
Hello! I've been a busy bee since returning to Nice. I'm happy to report that my days have been filled with work, personal projects, and social time--whether it's relaxing or upbeat. The weekend following my return, Alessandro and I (and Raphaela, really, even though she doesn't live with us anymore) hosted a cheese and wine party, which was absolutely delightful. Raphaela invited many of her Erasmus friends, Alessandro invited his, and the lecteurs got an invitation from me. It was a melting pot of people, and I'm fairly certain the attendees had fun. I did, anyway.
On that Sunday, I went to Valberg, a nearby skiing village, with Alessandro and his crew. The drive to Valberg is a beautiful and curvy car ride through the mountains. Once we got there we found a nice place for lunch, and then went sledding! It was a treat to experience snow in France--the stuff that sticks, like I'm used to back home. I also got to listen to and speak French all day, although everyone spoke enough English that we could switch back and forth comfortably enough to enjoy one another's company.
The first week of classes ensued; in short, it has been chaotic setting up a definitive timetable for this semester. The lecteurs are responsible for additional hours in the Centre de Langues, which is sort of like The Writing Center at Hartwick, but for a bunch of languages. I'm going to be designing a night course twice a week, and I'll offer workshops on other campuses (e.g. the business or law school, etc.). It should be a good change of pace. Variety being the spice of life and all that.
This past weekend I got to see my dear friend, Casey, in Paris, as well as Mark Wolff and the Hartick J-term France class. It was freakin' awesome. Highlights include: a Bateaux Mouche ride at night, the Institut du Monde Arabe exposition, tea at la Mosquée de Paris, dinner at Nos Ancestres Les Gaulois, mass at Notre Dame, and seeing Olympia at Musée d'Orsay (finally).
This week has started off rainy and dreary, which adequately reflects my energy level. I must push through the tired to teach, and hopefully have another enjoyable weekend.
Friends at lunch in Valberg
The sledding scene at Valberg
Casey standing before the Institut du Monde Arabe
Casey and me at the Gaulois-themed (think French viking) restaurant, Nos Ancestres
Thanks to Lena Dunham's recent collection of essays, Not That Kind of Girl, and my insistence on "letting my body do its thing," I am awake at 5:28 in the morning. I'm not sure why it's called "jet lag." Jet jumps, or jet whenever-the-hell-my-body-feels-like-sleeping are more accurate terms. I'm not bothered--I feel wide awake and am enjoying the extra time I get to read and listen to Walk The Moon's Talking Is Hard album. (SPOTIFY IS AMAZING!) I'm sure I'll feel differently in a few hours.
I just wanted to touch base. Basically, I've decided to be better. To try harder. To say, "Yes, please!" enthusiastically with a wild grin slapped on my face. Because, if I'm being honest, I was a sourpuss last semester. I relied too heavily on embellished introversion--the idea that I have to spend time alone in order to find some magical equilibrium where I feel wholesome and healthy. I definitely need to crash after spending too much time around people, especially if I'm meeting people and have to stick to that get-to-know-ya banter. But I didn't have to be alone as much as I was during the fall.
It's easy to get stuck. To wind up in a place you didn't expect to be and have no idea how you got there. Or how to get the hell out. Sometimes you need your mother to yell at you to realize you're being stupid and stubborn and, frankly, a prick. She technically didn't yell at me. We didn't get in a fight or anything, but she was clearly frustrated with me for not taking advantage of my opportunity. For not being grateful. For not seizing life by the balls, etc.
There's a difference between knowing something conceptually and then living out that knowledge. So, all last fall I knew to get involved, to participate, say "yes" would be the best way to live up my experience in Nice. I'd already learned this shit. You can look back to my dramatic Traversing Paris blog posts. The whole dealing with homesickness and culture shock thing. It's all there.
But I stayed in my room one too many times. I missed home, okay? Also, I'd just graduated college. I'd had to shed a life I'd had for the past four years! Didn't anyone understand? And I still think this to a degree. I think the transition between college and adulthood is underrated.
Going home was the best thing I could've done. It reminded me that I won't change overnight--that I don't need to clutch at my past self like it's a ghost slipping through my fingers. It reminded me that everyone is going through the same shit as I am, regardless of where they are in their journey. Going back to Oneonta showed me that home isn't going to leave me behind--that I can always come back, and even if it looks different, that will be okay. I was reminded that some people love me, despite that partition known as the Atlantic Ocean, and that some people don't. Plus, I ate a bunch of terrible, delicious food, and watched approximately 5 seasons of The Office.
And of course, talking to my mom reminded me to take myself less seriously and have fun. To relax. Practice speaking French, for crying out loud! Yes, Mom.
I resolve to say, "YES!" more. (For more information on this topic, read Amy Poehler's Yes Please).
I am going to Oneonta in a matter of days. I am excited, nervous, and scared. I'm scared because I know I am sentimental, and I hate time travel. Even though I left Oneonta four months ago, that's enough distance from a place to remember the ups and downs--for my nostalgia to rear its ugly head. On the other hand, I will be reunited with old friends, get to play lots of board games, welcome in the new year with people I love, and finally eat some pad see ew with tofu (it's been too long). I've been thinking about living in the moment, and so in some ways I feel guilty about being excited about going back to Oneonta. Oneonta resembles a life I lived, a place I used to be. The voice in my head that thinks it knows best tells me to move on, grow up, make new memories. Don't be that person. The one that sticks around, the one that gets stuck in time. Kind of like the person that never moves past high school, but in my case never moves past college. I liked school. Sometimes I loved it. More than the late nights writing essays, it was the atmosphere that got me going. I won't pretend everyone at Hartwick is a nerd, but I definitely sensed an air of-- People got excited about ideas. Hold up, Angelica. Don't you teach? Well, sort of. We have discussions in class, and sometimes those are really great. My students usually surprise me at least once a class. But there's a weird dynamic. I moderate the conversation. I no longer raise my hand--I call on kids. Maybe this doesn't seem like a big deal. (I'm probably over-thinking things). But as a student, I sort of gushed over things. When the teacher let me speak, I got to add to the conversation. Outside of the classroom, I had peers I could talk to about these ideas we were exploring. We were equals and we could turn things over together. As a teacher, I have to hold back (mostly because the students are supposed to be practicing their English, so me talking wouldn't really help them). Of course, I don't just miss school. I miss my friends. I miss living in a town in which I was pretty much guaranteed to run into someone I knew when I went to the store. I miss the community I left behind. I miss my life. I think the transition between college and whatever's next it totally underrated. And that's saying something, seeing as countless writers have explored the concept. But think about it--you're leaving a part of yourself behind. Some formative shit happened in college. Maybe you learned a lot about yourself (in fact, the only way this didn't happen is if you seriously lack introspection skills). You probably fell in and out of love at some point. You probably did things you never thought you would. You probably proved yourself wrong. Maybe you found your niche, or found out what your niche is not. ALL OF THESE THINGS ARE FREAKING HUGE. This is a big deal. I don't know how we expect graduates to move on without a second glance. I'm definitely changing the way I look at it.
YAY TRANSITION. Anyway, I'll post reunion pictures soon. Xoxo.
This semester has been--well, I don't really know yet. It's one of those things I'll figure out once I get some distance from it. For now when I think of Fall 2014, my mind sort of comes up blank.
So much has happened! And yet it feels like so little at the same time. Time is weird.
I'm definitely in a heady, existential mood. But when am I not?
Here, I'll just recap some stuff that happened:
I got to Nice without a suitcase. Megan and Danica picked me up from the train station and I went directly to the bar most everyone was at, said, "Hello!" dropped my backpack off at Megan's house, and then stayed up drinking and dancing until who knows how late. Jet lag schmet-lag.
During my first two weeks in Nice, I vacationed, basically.
Classes hadn't started yet, so I was free to get situated. In that time, I got an apartment, opened a banking account, got familiar with my neighborhood, figured out which bars in Old Town have the best happy hours, and spent a lot of time at the beach.
This is what I wore on my first day of school...as a teacher. It was sort of weird thinking of myself as a not-student, but I donned the lectrice jacket as best I could. My teaching strategy (more or less): listen to the students.
Meanwhile, I did my best to make friends. In the end, I really lucked out. These people are great--upbeat, curious, intelligent nerds-extraordinaire.
I did a lot of partying. Probably about as much as one would expect a 20-something living in a city with a vibrant bar-scene would do.
Natalie and I made a Jacqueline-o-lantern for English Society. A few of us put on a film night where we showed A Nightmare Before Christmas and Psycho. I really enjoyed the English Society events I helped with this semester, from pub nights/quizzes, to film nights, to the Thanksgiving pot!
Oh, yeah! And this happened:
I also got the chance to meet up with the wonderful Ellen Parent.
We went to Paris...
Where I was reunited with my Paris study-abroad partner-in-crime, Emma Lofthus! It was marvelous to see her after all the time we'd been apart. Since we'd last seen each other we'd both written our thesis, graduated from college, and moved to France! There was a lot to catch up on and I don't think we even got to say all there was to say, but it was nice to meet again over a cup of vin chaud (at Les Deux Magots, at that!) <3
I also went to an absinthe bar in Antibes, which was fun.
And partied some more.
I made my family's traditional Thanksgiving side-dish, sweet-potato casserole (with marshmallows on top).
And celebrated Thanksgiving with this awesome crew.
The winter market opened this past weekend. All over town Christmas-themed things have been put up. It's weird, because not everyone celebrates Christmas, but I guess France doesn't care about that. However, I did notice a huge light-up menorah on my way home today. The Christmas market is full of vendors, a Ferris wheel, ice-skating, vin chaud, and dark chocolate made with olive oil, just to name a few highlights.
I probably won't get a photo of the Christmas market before I leave Nice, so have a stolen collage from Becca's Instagram:
Overall, I'm satisfied with how things have gone these past 3.5 months. Wish me safe travels home. Happy holidays to everyone! And a fantastic New Year. Cheers!
First of all, I'd like to wish everyone a very happy Thanksgiving. I hope you're surrounded with family and friends, that the weather didn't ruin your plans, and that you're safe, comfortable, and warm.
Now, with that out of the way, let's get to the real point of this post; I'd like to complain a little bit. Just a little.
Even though I'm not currently in the U.S. I know today is Thanksgiving--the day we think about what we're thankful for...and then eat a whole lot. Don't worry! I've got the eating a whole lot thing down pat. I ate two pain au chocolats for breakfast.
And I am thankful. Very thankful. Mostly, I'm thankful for all the privileges I have: I got to move to France for a year and teach. I had the chance and money and access to loans to attend college. I had an amazing public education experience with fantastic teachers and plenty of resources. I can afford books, music, and movies. I can pretty much wear whatever I want, express myself however I want. Although strict, I grew up in a loving family. I have white skin in a culture in which people with white skin systematically benefit from being white. Although I wish racism were dead and that everyone was treated fairly regardless of how they look, I recognize the privilege my skin grants me.
So, yeah. I have a lot to be thankful for.
It seems inappropriate to complain about menial things--small differences in culture that are basically insignificant, but still irritate me enough to be noticeable. However, if we spin this with perspective, we can see the things about 'Murica I, in fact, appreciate. Here we go:
1. Cheddar cheese
You'd think France, the country known for its decadent cheeses, would cover all my cheese-needs. Not true. There's nothing like a hunk of Cabot. I don't routinely buy cheddar when I'm home, but I like having it available to me, especially when I feel like making a bagel sandwich or nachos.
2. Black beans
You probably saw this one coming if you've read my post about feijoada. Basically, in America, you can go to the grocery store and find black beans. Black beans don't function the same way in France. In France, you have to go to an Indian specialty shop and buy dry black beans in bulk. I don't mind soaking my black beans, but oh my God, I've never valued the ease and luxury of canned black beans more since I moved to Nice.
3. Large trash cans
It seems pretty common in France to have tiny, miniscule-sized trash bins. This wouldn't bother me so much, except it does. I appreciate the European tendency to minimize and reduce waste. I really do, honestly. But our kitchen bin is the size of an extra large popcorn at the cinema. We have to take the trash out daily. When I lived at home, we had a large trash can, but we took the trash out weekly. The France way seems to be the same amount of trash, but with six times the effort.
4. Generic brand contact solution
I like to think I'm a fairly pragmatic shopper. I try to stick to a budget, so I shop generic. Especially with contact solution, where the only difference in brand is the style of the packaging, it makes sense to buy the cheaper version. Well, in France I can't do that. I have to buy the expensive Opti-Free stuff that costs an arm and a leg, and I have to go to the Pharmacy to get it.
5. Cars
Don't get me wrong; public transit is super efficient in Nice. Well, when the transit workers aren't on strike. I love being able to leave my house and get to the grocery store, movie theatre, café, post office, bank, etc. in a timely fashion by foot or bus. But when I need to carry my backpack, umbrella, purse, and the green beans for the pot luck, and the pastries for book club, and the...a car would be nice.
What about you? What sorts of things about America or home do you miss, look forward to, or appreciate?
Once more, have a very lovely Thanksgiving! More cultural comparison stuff coming soon...
