Caen: Day 4

So, at first I was like, "Hey, there aren't any bugs here. That's why they don't have screens."

But no; there are flies and gnats...but not as much as Indiana. I guess the French don't care about the odd fly buzzing in the house. (even though the first two days it drove me nuts) And I just saw my first French spider outside. Just as creepy as American ones.

What did I do today? Well, first let me tell you about the other exchange students' night. Because it is just like one of the girls from Ohio said: "I just want to listen to all the stories. It's like watching a train wreck. It's horrible, but you just can't help but look."

Yep, that's the perfect way to put it. I'm not writing to belittle them. I'm writing for that odd student who's searching for a blog about studying abroad. These are things you need to think about. Here is my warning:

So, I wasn't feeling good last night, so I decided to just go home and rest. The rest of the internationals went out with Charlotte and Benoit. And some of them were out the entire night. Now, I'll start putting letters for people so that I don't disclose names.

Girl A was who I was going to go with if I was feeling good. She said that she was going to leave between 8:30 and 9:00 pm because she was really tired. But she quickly learned that buses and trams slow down at night. So...she didn't get home until 11:30. Not good for someone like me. On a school night.

Girl B is underage in America, but, when in France do as the French. Fine. Okay. Whatever; have a few drinks. You're over 18. When in France, c'est d'accord (it's okay). But...umm...well. She had so much to drink that she doesn't remember anything that happened last night. At all.

Girl C let a French guy keep buying her shots. When she realized what was happening, Girl C texted Boy A (another American who we all trust) to help her. But Boy A was too far gone as well. Let's just leave it at she came to school in what she wore the night before and leave it at that, since she doesn't know exactly what happened after that. But we all have the same theory.

So, LADIES! You've GOT to know your limitations. You've GOT to say "NON!". You've GOT to be smart. Please. I'm begging you. PLEASE BE SMART!

To sum it all up: I am so glad I didn't go out last night. Not that I would have drank, because I absolutely HATE alcohol. But when everyone is drinking and there aren't any sober guys that I trust around, I do not want to be around. This was one "excursion" that I will never say "Man, I wish I had gone!" No. I guess there was a reason that I felt bad last night.

Back to my day:

I got up, didn't eat (because I still felt bad), caught the tram, and was a little early to class (sighs of relief). I went to French class, had a break, went back to French class, and then we had lunch. Only, I felt worse than before, so I decided to have only a little food later and some Advil. About an hour later, I felt better. Pain-killers up!

For the second part of French class, we had a "computer lab". Basically, it's us in a computer lab listening to videos in French and then answering questions. But...the keyboards!! They are different; meaning, ANNOYING! The left side isn't like American keyboards. And you have to shift in order to type numbers. It took us all at least 5 minutes to logon because we didn't type the numbers right. Finally, I figured it out and told everyone. IT to the rescue.

French keyboard:

American keyboard:

 

In the afternoon: WWII history of Normandy....YES!!!  This is what I came for! This is why I am here. After the three hours of class, I'm like "Really? We're finished for today? But...but...WHY?!"

I thought about hanging out with some friends after class, but they were all going on an excursion for their class: "Culture". Since I'm not in that class, I was not allowed to go. So, I caught the tram to my stop and started walking home.

And, like a smart person, I walked on the opposite side of the street from the day before. Because there were a bunch of suspicious looking guys the other day who said something stupid to me. So, I get to walk on the other side with all of the smokers at the shops. Lesser of two evils.

So, once I onto "Le Rue de Branville" (road name), I look up, stop, and take a picture of St. Michel de Vacaulles, the church on my street. And make plans.

Dropping my stuff off, having only my wallet (pretty much empty) and my phone for a camera, I walk back to the church, climb the stairs, open the door, and enter into sanctuary. For the first time in France, I feel completely at peace. Completely home. Completely with Someone and other friends, even though there isn't another living person in the building with me.

I stayed for about an hour. Maybe more, I'm not sure.

Pictures:

St. Michel while walking home:

Just a cool looking house across from St. Michel:

Inside St. Michel:

St. Michel (St. Michael the Archangel):

Notre-Dame de Sainte-Paix (Our Lady of Peace...more or less. Not a word for word translation)

Sacred Heart statue on wall opposite of a confessional:

Stained glass by Sacred Heart:

St. Therese: 

Our Lady and the Child Jesus.

The alter. Behind is the organ. The banner hanging there says "Pain de Vie Eternelle" (Bread of Eternal Life):

Choir loft (back of church):

Another stain glass:

 Saint Joseph and the infant Jesus. This part of the church was really dark, so I couldn't get a good picture.

Picture of Mary on the wall near St. Joseph:

Organ:

The right side of the church:

The one tiny window I found:

Map of France explaining diocese:

I just wanted to take a picture of one of the bulliten boards because there were a LOT of Loudres posters. And it's France, oui? 

I sat in front of this statue of Mary and the child Jesus for a really long time. It's amazing. At my angle, it looks like Jesus is pointing to his heart with one hand and then pointing to his mother with the other. I Love it!!!

Then I went home, did homework, ate dinner with Colette, and here I am.

Good night, all.

Caen: Day 3

Well, that could have gone better. But...it could have gone worse too.

I was about five minutes late to class. Obviously I need more than 25 minutes in order to get to school. The professor said that it was not serious...she probably expected some of us to be late, trying to find our way around and all that. In my defense, I was not the last person there.

Classes have been fine. It is a bit challenging in that I really have to pay attention, but I think that I understand more than most of my other fellow students.

Unfortunately, I was wrong: my history class did not begin today. It starts tomorrow. Instead, we had an extra hour and a half of French class.

I didn't really have much for lunch today. I got up and wasn't feeling good. I started to feel better around 4pm, but now it's back. Maybe my stomach is trying to get used to this new food? Because I swear this is the most vegetables I have ever consumed per day in my entire life. Change does not come naturally for the body.

Another point about food: holey meow! Maybe I don't feel well or something, but I can't eat as much as anyone here. Not the French or the Americans. Everyone's telling me "Eat, eat, eat!". But I can't. Thank goodness I can ignore their persistence. Hopefully, I can feel better soon.

During lunch, a French guy approached my table full of American exchange girls. He asked to sit with us so that he could practice his English. We found out that he really wants to go to the US someday, specifically California. May I just take a moment to say that there is more to the US than just California, New York, and Florida? Because there is. Not that I'm promoting Indiana; I know that it isn't the most amazing state, but how about Virginia or Maine or our odd state of Alaska?

After I got home again, I laid down for about two hours before my host mother returned home. I think she went shopping today, among other things. She cooked me chicken, rice, cucumbers, and what she called a "gateau", which is "cake" in English, but it was really a small apricot pie.

I guess I'm the first student she's hosted that does not go out a lot and late at night, because she seemed to be worried that I was sad staying with her when she found me at the dinning room table, looking really tired and scrunched over a cup of my American tea. But really, the tea was for my stomach and I knew for sure that it doesn't have caffeine. I was so tired that I didn't want to bother to figure out if hers has caffeine or not. I reassured her that I'm just the kind of person who needs to stay home for a few hours to...I guess compose myself? After being a homegirl for so long, it's hard to break habit and join the other international students when they go out to the bars until 2 am or something. No. Just, no. I can't stay out that late. I'll probably be sick.

So, instead, I have taken pictures at home.

Here's my host mom making dinner:

And her piano (below at the bottom is black and white):

 And garden photos!

 I think these will be tomatoes?

I think these are apricots. She really loves apricots and cucumbers.

The back of the house from the garden:

The stairway. Four flights to climb to my room. They are a bit narrow compared to ones in the US. Ignore my book bag at the bottom.

Colette took a picture of me eating dinner.

Black and white piano. I think it looks a lot better than the colored picture

Caen: Day 2

In Indiana, the stupid robins wake me up. Here, it was the pigeons. They aren't as loud, but still...

Just so you know, I slept really, really well. But, I have to admit, I did take some benadryle so that my nose wouldn't be a problem. It is such a pain to get a cold...before you travel...in June. Only me.

I get up, get ready, and start to write my first blog in France. But, it's breakfast time! So, I abandon my computer and walk back into the French world.

Whoever said that the French don't eat much for breakfast is a big fat liar. Get it? But really. At home I just have two pieces of toast and tea, usually. Here? Apricots, two pieces of toast, yogurt (which was disgusting, by the way...kind of like Greek yogurt, but not as strong. Still disgusting), and...something else...maybe...I forget.

Then, we're off! We walk to the train station and get on the tram to take to the university. She walks me to la maison d'etudiants (literally "student house", but it's more like oh, what's the English word? That common room on campus that students can go to just to socialize?

It's amazing. Now I feel like I have to think twice as hard to find my "English" words. It's probably because I'm now (once again) tired. It is about 9:30 at night right now...

There, I meet the people who went on the same shuttle (including the other Indiana girls) and other Americans. They ate (I was still really full from my breakfast at home) and we talked until everyone had arrived and we all followed our teachers to the building where we'd be taking classes.

Class seemed really short. I don't know why, because it was longer than any class I've ever taken in America. Anyway, except three other people, the room was filled with Americans. I guess if we get stuck, we can help each other. Which has already happened, actually.

After class, Benoit and Charlotte took us to one of the cafeterias where we were allowed to get an appetizer, a main dish, bread, and a dessert for 5.35 euros (really, it's 5,35...they use commas where we use decimal points). And, once again, I couldn't finish it all. I seriously have not been hungry since boarding the plane in Chicago. No worries about hunger here.

Lunch lasted about two hours, but we Americans aren't used to that. After forty-five minutes, I went with a new friend, Rachel from Kansas, to explore the corner of campus that we were already located. She wanted to find WiFi, so I'm like "Of course! I can send a random text too!".

Then, Charlotte and Benoit met us back at the language class building. Our really quick tour of Caen began.

We started out front: the front of the campus where the tram stop is and their mascot. Benoit explained that the buildings are all new because the university was completely destroyed during

WWII bombings. That is why their mascot is a phoenix. I don't know if you can tell, but the statue (to the left of Benoit) is of the phoenix dying and being reborn at the same time. Maybe I'll edit it some other time.

Then, we walked across the street to William the Conqueror's castle. Here's a view of part of it as we walked towards it:

 And then everyone stopped and I'm like, "What are we looking at. Oh for crying out loud. They're taking pictures of Sheep! City people. Well, sheep at a castle. Okay, fine. Trend setters."

 Sheep look tiny in the picture of the bridge inside the castle grounds:

Here's the view from one of the parts of the castle:

Another view from the castle. This is Saint Pierre (Saint Peter's cathedral). The steeple is being fixed right now:

Part of the walkway of where we were in the castle:

 We then walked all over the city. Because I'm short and a lot of tall people were in front of me, I didn't bother taking any more pictures. I plan to walk through the city again with my phone camera at the ready. I especially want to show you the oldest neighborhood in Caen. It is so cute.

The last place I went with the group was the tourist office, which was huge compared to the ones in America. Below is their 3-D model of the city. To the right, the white buildings are the university. The other big buildings you might be able to make out are at the top: I see right now (again) Saint Pierre, for example.

Then, some of the other American girls decided to go shopping, so I went with them. (Students were allowed to explore and go away from the tour as long as they told Benoit and/or Charlotte before leaving). We went to a ticket booth were we all bought a month pass for the tram so we don't have to mess with the machines every morning. Then, I tagged along to a makeup store, phone store (Maria (from Wisconsin) wanted a French SIM card), and a shoe store. Then, Rachel and I decided that we needed to go home and rest. We left Maria and took the tram to our stop. I left her to catch her next bus.

And got lost. But only for a few minutes. I was fine until I had to turn on one of the roads. I passed it and thought "Wasn't that the road I'm supposed to take...? Maybe I'll just walk a little while and turn around if I have to. Stay cool. Appear confident. Don't break your serious attitude. There's a group of boys smoking over there. There's a couple biking. It's fine."

Not that Caen is not safe. I actually feel like its a lot safer than my hometown...as long as I'm not out at night alone. And, right then, I was alone. Oh, ladies, men just don't understand what we go through.

I had to turn around.  Once I started walking down the other street, I recognized things. I got home safe, sound, and sweaty (had to walk up a long hill).

About two minutes after I got home, my host mother also arrived. I "helped" her make me dinner and then she sat with me as I ate. While "we" were eating, she explained how cows are really important in Normandy, so they eat a lot of dairy products.

I didn't mention that I ate a cheeseburger for lunch (which I liked better than the ones in the states; I'll probably do a different post with food later). She got a little emotional after I answered her question about what I eat for dinner in the states (usually chicken and hamburgers. Hey, Mom! I have new ammo when I can complain that we have hamburgers Every Single Saturday. It's okay. I enjoy it...usually).

She asked if it was alright if she went out with a friend (I gathered that they don't see each other much...but I'm not positive). It was "bon" (good)! I needed some time alone to process everything.

So, here I am, trying to race through this blog so I can go to sleep.

Below are pictures of her garden, where we usually eat dinner.

Okay, I need to stop and sleep.

A bientot! See/Talk you soon!

France: Day 1

I arrived yesterday. When I landed in the airplane, it was "Here I am!" going through my mind.

So, the airplane ride: it was the best trip I've ever taken on a plane, which is good considering that I went by myself for the first time. I am now a walking advertisement for scopolamine patches. The only bad part about the plane is sleeping. The pillows that I had were ridiculous.

Getting off the plane: the key is to follow everyone else. I am So glad that I was at the back of the plane. All I had to do was follow the others off and we all went through customs & got our passports stamped. Then I went to get my baggage and tried to get on the WiFi. But that was a complete and utter failure. Charles de Gaulle! You have horrible internet service!

Then, I guess I accidentally got my phone off of airplane mode. So, my phone was eating away its battery by trying to find cellphone service, even though I am unable to get any kind of service without contacting my phone company or buying a French SIM card. It was dead by the time I arrived at school. Sorry, Mom and Dad! I couldn't contact you or anyone else. I was being eaten by guilt and fear for them until my host mother finally got home and gave me the password for her WiFi.

Okay, I'm through customs and have our baggage. Now, I just had to get out of the right door to find the man driving the correct shuttle to take me to school. Oh my WORD is that airport confusing. Yes, there are many signs, but I discovered that the door numbers make no sense. So, if I remember correctly, the doors on the first floor (ground floor) are even numbers and on the second floor (where baggage, hence me, was) there were only odd numbers. I needed door 2 (porte no. 2)! Oh la la! So, being the brave, calm person that I am, I went to the nearest Information (same word with a French accent) desk. Side note: anyone traveling in France, especially women, even if you are lost and scared, appear confident on the outside. You are more respected and, I've heard, the men leave you alone, if you know what I mean. I ask (in French) directions from the woman there and she gives me instructions in really fast French. Thankfully, I understand enough to know that I need to go downstairs.

Down the stairs I go. And I don't see my door. The numbers started at 8. Once I passed door 16, I decided it was time to turn around and find another information desk. Unfortunately, the line was horribly long and I thought the shuttle was going to leave soon. So, I went up to the next best person: a police officer, who, thankfully, spoke English. He told me (with French roughness because another person had just asked him something else in English, but the English speaker seemed really rude to me...I understand, monsieur. Les americains peuvent difficiles; Americans can be difficult) that the door I needed was blocked off for a while and I needed to just wait. I thanked him while I silently panicked (But I need to be at the shuttle at this time!). It only took them about 5 minutes to open that hall, though, so it was all good.

Once I got to the door, though, it wouldn't open! The door wouldn't open! Thankfully, an airport employee was right behind me, so he had a key. Long story short, I not only got to the shuttle on time (since the driver realized that the door wouldn't open), but I was the second person there.

I just want to mention the drive from the airport to Caen briefly: during the entire ride, the only thing that showed me that we were in France was the street signs and the toll booths are a bit different. Other than that, it was like driving through a hilly city in the US: hills, grass, little cities passed by, and cows. Lots and lots of cows sporadically.

I also feel like the driver didn't know exactly how to get us to the place he was supposed to drop us off (there were seven of us), because he kept going in circles or turning around. We got to our destination, though.

Once we arrived at the building, one of the French students that are in charge of helping us, Benoit, was there to greet us in both French and English. I think he speaks the language very well. Of course, I think that pretty much every French person that I've met speaks English well, but I wonder if it's because I can still understand them if they have to switch back to French for a few words. Maybe I'll ask one of my new friends (more on that in my post about Day 2...today, currently).

So, we all had to stay in the lobby of this tiny building until our host family picked us up or, as for Brooke (one of the other girls from my American school) the other group coming to Caen to study arrived so that she could be shown to her dorm room.

I, unlike other home-stay people, was not picked up by my host mother (or parents for them). I was picked up by her sister and niece, Marie. Her sister did not speak any English, so it was a little awkward for us to converse. After all, I had just arrived after an 8 hour flight into a brand new country where all I could hear was French. Overwhelmed, exhausted, and not at my destination. I am sorry that I couldn't communicate with her to put her at ease.

Marie could speak a little English, though. So, we talked in Franglais (French and English mixture). The car ride was really long because they couldn't figure out how to get to Colette's house. You see, there were a lot of races going on yesterday. (It was really cute how Marie kept calling them "runnings"). But, I guess I got my first official tour of Caen, even though I couldn't really pay much attention. The jet-lag was getting to me and my patch was wearing off.

It's so frustrating trying to soak things in after you get off of a red-eye flight. (Sigh)

Let's see, where was I? Oh, yes...

After getting to my host mother's house, Marie showed me around the house and my rooms. Then we had orange juice and cookies (jus d'orange et des biscuits). Then they left and I was alone...for maybe two hours.

That was when it got to me: a bit of...not really homesickness...more like I was sad because I hadn't talked to my parents in almost 26 hours. And, I couldn't get the toilet to flush. Oh, the embarrassing things that happen to Americans in France. You can't simply just push the button; you have to push it hard and fast!

I was trying to read as I waited for my host mother to arrive home. She had been with her mother for a week helping her around. I wasn't succeeding, though. After every other word, I went cross-eyed.

Everything fell into place after she arrived. She showed me how to open my windows so that my room could cool off. She gave me the coveted WiFi password so I could call my parents. And, most importantly to the French, she fed me: really good pasta, a salad, and (of course) bread. Oh, and apricots. It is her favorite fruit. She has a ton of them. 

Then, we talked a little about politics. I know! That is one of the taboo conversations in France! They do not talk about politics, religion, and money. At all. Period. But, I think she was okay with it because she has had other students before. I'm not sure, but maybe she's had other American students. And we Americans talk politics. A lot. But, the conversation started because she explained that she arrived home late because she had to go vote. They just elected a new president, so yesterday she had to go vote for a member of parliament.  She asked a few questions about the US government and President Trump. I tried as best as I could to answer, but I think I was too tired to really give good answers.

After dinner, I climbed up to my bedroom (on the second floor...all the way up again) and took a shower and went to bed.

All in all, it was, as I told Marie as we drove around town, an adventure.

To Plan or Not to Plan

Here's the story: I planned on taking the RER and the train from the airport to where I will be staying. I had looked up and practically memorized where I needed to be and go. I even got on youtube to see what RERs look like.

Plan = changed.

Why has the plan changed? Well, at first, I was taking the train because it was going to be less expensive. So, I convinced three other girls that are also going to France that we'd be okay. After all, I had done research (I'm too much like my dad) and I am totally comfortable.

Fast forward to yesterday afternoon: we all receive an e-mail from our ISEP coordinator in France asking if we'd still like to go by train or if we'd like to just join the other students coming to France too and taking the shuttle. At a lower price. Okay...sold.

I really hate it when plans change. I know, it's...like...the number one lesson we humans need to learn: plans change ALL the time. But, it still makes me uncomfortable. Not because I'd rather take the train. No, I'd rather get off the plane, get to the shuttle, and relax. I am frustrated because I've been e-mailing my host mother in France for about a week and we've been planning on how I will be taking the train and when she will be picking me up from the station.

And now I'm taking the shuttle. (insert moan and exasperated sighs) I hate inconveniencing people. I hate having to ask people to go out of their way for me. I hate not knowing if she's really okay with me taking the shuttle; I will get there quicker than if I would take the train, but I don't know what she planned on doing during the day before I arrived!

Okay. Taking a deep breath. It will be alright. I can't wait to get there! The adventure begins: tomorrow!

The "almighty" Cellphone Overseas

Love it, hate it, or just don't think about it that much, cellphones are a big part of our lives, even when we travel! But...international calling is So expensive! What to do; what to do; what to do?!

One word: app! Yes, I'm going to quote someone (not sure who): "There's an app for that!" The ever famous Skype works. So does Viber and what I'm using: WhatsApp.

WhatsApp is basically free facetime calls (like Skype) and texting AND regular phone calls over a WiFi connection. Like Skype, in order to use it you and the other person you're communicating with has to have the app and your phone numbers. That's why I'm also using Skype: so that I can communicate with my hometown university contact without having to put her number into my phone...it would be fine, but I'm not sure how I feel about having her number in my phone. I'm the kind of person who doesn't easily hand out my number to everyone. It takes me a while to give it to friends. So...

Just be sure that before you get on the plane to leave the country, you turn your cellular data all the way off! That way, all of these apps are forced to only work when you have WiFi; therefore, you aren't paying anything for them.

Unless, of course, you are okay with going to your cellphone provider and buying an international package. Either way, get it done!