Saturday afternoon I surprised myself by actually enjoying some alone time with French music in the local Musee de Beaux-Arts. Check.

The views out the window were as beautiful as the art work

Sunday was another “check” because I got up and went to mass with my host mom. I expected the Cathedral with the big organ, but turned out we were just going to the local church, which was fine, though I’d still like to hear the Organ. This was a step out of my comfort zone. I don’t fully understand a Catholic Mass even in English so change it to French and I’m totally lost. However, despite my confusion  I left like I was experiencing an important part of culture and history and I spend a good deal of time spacing out reflecting on that because translating is exhausting.

Monday was not as expected either. I woke up with two red eyes and in a lot of pain. Ended up missing two hours of class to go to the eye doctor where they tested my pronunciation of the French alphabet as well as my eye sight. Turned out I had scratched my corneas and was to use these burning eye drops for three days. Tuesday I was practically blind and after suffering through 3 hours of class with 1 eye half open. I apologized “pour les cascades de mes yeux” and my waterfalls and I went home to sleep, via the pharmacy.

Wednesday I was feeling a bit better, which was essential because after school Carina and I left for Nantes, where we went to bed at 9 pm.

Our little hotel room that we only saw in the dark!

4am came quickly but our journey to Corsica was smooth, aside from hungrily waiting in the airport for two hours for the 9 euro bus to town.

Carina on our bench, thinking more about her empty tummy than her homework!

Life stayed interesting when we arrived in Bastia.
And because of the following events, I couldn’t decided which title to use.
« Pas de Bus » (No Bus)
« Toussaint » (All Saints)
« C’est Fermée » (It’s Closed)
P.S. Those funny marks are French quotation marks

Its Toussaint (a holiday). Of course! Why didn’t we realize…everything is closed today. That means no buses nor grocery stores. Ok, so 7.50 euro for a slice of pizza, a coke and a chocolate waffle thing.

I had already eaten the pizza.

That’ll tie me over. But we can’t walk over a mountain with our stuff for 25 kilometers without a map. That leaves a taxi. Alright, locate taxi. “Bonjour Monsieur, combien coute…” More than 67 euro. Oh. That’s a pair of shoes. Or two. Just kidding sir, have a nice day. Now we more than seriously considered the inconsiderable. We didn’t tell any loved ones what we’d decided, just stuck out our thumbs and smiled.

It started out pretty awkward but turned out kind of fun…

People waved or sympathetically smiled but no one stopped. Ok, change location. Here in our new spot, we made a sign with the name of our destination. A nice man with a bike on his car pulled over to tell us we were in the wrong area to go that direction and helped us know where to go. We chatted with a couple from Quebec who were traveling around and gave us hitchhiking advice. So we changed location again. Impatiently, I announced that I was giving up hope and taking the taxi in 10 minutes. Just then, a (non-sketchy) woman pulled over. RIDE! “We’re actually doing this!” shouted my internal dialogue. Our driver was wonderful; she told us Corsican info and wouldn’t accept money.

She even pulled over at this memorial with a great view for us to read some history and take pictures!

We found our hotel easily…

Hotel, resort thing.

and only worried for a moment because the only one there to greet us for check in was a large green praying mantis.

Once 3pm struck we got in and then returned to the mostly closed town seeking dinner.

There were more boats than tourists!

We got to wander a bit and sort of found bread, cheese and wine, which would do for dinner. So we turned in early for the evening.

Corsica is known for good rose and red wine according to our driver.

While it is known for a lot of things, public transportation is not one of those things. Our questions of “what is there to do around here” were always greeted with “do you have a car?”, “No”. “……..uh-oh”.

So, the following day involved a lot of walking, a lot of beautiful views and a lot of going the wrong direction. We were never really lost, we had a map. A simple map. That we were confidently following. But we managed to follow it wrong multiple times. The consequences were not particularly upsetting and we were not the only ones confused. Perks included finding a kitty,

That really appreciated our attention

finding a place to kayak the next day and finding a building in ruins.

View from the wrong road. Not too much of a loss.

Finally, we found the correct trail but having taken longer than planned to get there, we stopped at a beautiful view and put our feet in the water.

View on the way down the correct trail!

We had to take shoes off to get out to those rocks but the water wasn’t cold and it was fun to climb around!

The evening held homemade soup followed by showers and a ton of the best chocolate ice-cream I can remember consuming.

Our only plans for the next day were Kayaking. (There was nothing else we could do within walking distance in November). We got up and went into town to explore a bit and wait for it to warm up. On our way into town we heard gunfire that went past Carina. Then a man in uniform (with a gun) asked us if we’d seen his dog. Nope. Walking on, we came across fresh footprints in mud, then fresh poop, then barking. Found the dog! Stellar detectives we are (the day before we had found a back pack and spent some time pondering that mystery too). Continuing, we accidentally found the church and fort we were planning on looking for. Unfortunately we couldn’t get inside so we decided to head to the boat place.

I got to hug a palm tree. One of my goals of the vacation!

Once afloat in our double, salt water kayak, it was just us, the view and some interesting birds. We made it a decent distance in a hour and a half. All the way to the previous day’s original destination, a half an old tower.

Voila!

The hike was supposed to take 3.5 hours but on a boat, short cuts (when the waves cooperate) were quick. The way back started out fierce paddling and loud singing to keep us going. Once we got closer and the wind wasn’t in our faces we got to just drift a bit and chat.
Back on shore we had a chance to thaw out in the shower and went to watch some locals play bocce ball. Dinner was filling pasta and pesto!

or “Boule” in French

The day of our return trip started out grim. While checking out we were informed the only way to get back was by taxi. “Duh, it’s a bank holiday, there are no buses on Sundays!” (is what it seemed like we were being told). A taxi would cost 85 euro. EURO. That’s $109.02! Depressed we headed toward town. Knowing our luck had run out, we made a sign for “Bastia S.V.P.” and walked with our thumbs out. Less than an hour later a car pulled over. A nice woman, her husband and granddaughter accepted us into their car. Enthused that it worked a second time we thanked them profusely and were on our way! The ride was fun. The woman used to teach French but now the two live in Paris and have visited the states several times. We even got to help Alex – their granddaughter- speak English. To kill time in Bastia before the airport shuttle, we wandered around a huge yard sale-market-bizarre thing and had a snack. I resisted buying Pirates of the Caribbean in French while on an island known for pirate history.

A view we came across while wandering around town before kayaking on day 2.

Saying goodbye to Corsica and le vacances, we journeyed home to finish homework. Home, to where our reliable tram was waiting to take us across town for free. 🙂

Emily

I don’t think I’ve ever actually played that game. I’m no good at scrabble. But I thought it was a fitting title!

Part 1: Learning French or Learning English?

The bridge we cross everyday on the tram.

On Friday I went into town excited for a more advanced ballet class than normal and…surprise! There was a pointe class as well! I was glad I had brought my shoes and that painful half hour was a good reminder not to go more than a month without doing releves en pointe.
Immediately after, I went to the ice-rink and had a great night of basically prom on ice. There were disco lights, loud music and dance circles included! This was a wonderful exposure to French culture and also led to a reflection on my own culture and language…

English is weird. Lost in Translation: We tried explaining “So” and its several different uses to a French man who doesn’t speak English. What a bizarre word.
If you know French, this is what we came up with: so = alors/donc and so = trés and so = comme ça.
Once returning home, I promptly looked up the “actual” definition of “so”.

Speaking of English…and in English…I find it interesting how no matter what the background noise, I can pick out my native language from even long distances away. Sort of like the way you can hear your name in a crowded room or you notice when someone isn’t speaking English walking down the street. It doesn’t matter what accent, dialect or anything of English it is, my ears will still perk up and I have to find the source. It is a comforting and familiar feeling to hear my mother tongue in a sea of Française.

I tend to not filter before I begin speaking in French, which, since I’m trying to learn the language can be good because I don’t avoid telling stories and things I don’t know how to say, but at the same time gets me into awkward situations in which I am just floundering for words and the moment gets lost. I usually just begin talking or telling a story before I realize that I have no idea how to explain nor the vocabulary to support my point.

While I’m on this topic, I may as well mention that this trip isn’t quite what I expected in terms of the amount of English I still speak on a daily basis. At first I was really worried that I was going to have a roommate and I’d be tempted to speak English too often. Then when I arrived, I was beyond relieved to have someone else who could help me learn and communicate or understand around the house. We’ve become a good team. It was (and still is) also wonderful to have a site director that speaks both languages and can answer all my questions and solve my problems. It’s especially nice after a long day of class, such as in September when it was a lot more draining, to have a place to go to be surrounded by a familiar lingo. However, as I’ve progressed and can more or less fend for myself, I wish I didn’t speak so much English. I still have to put in a serious effort to speak French even while living in France and it is a little frustrating. It takes extra time and effort to avoid English and fully immerse in French while living in France so I’m worried that I’ll lose it when I go home.

However, I’ve realized an appreciation for my mother tongue like never before. It’s actually pretty cool to master a language, and make jokes and puns and rhymes. Or use big words and slang.

Part 2: Quotidian
Quotidian is a fun French word that roughly translates to something along the lines of “Daily”. So this section is my daily culture lesson.

Saturday didn’t go as planned because the two hours I’d set aside for touring our local museum were the two hours it was closed for lunch break. So instead, I bought socks (honestly to put off doing laundry a bit longer) and watched the weekly excitement in the square. I believe it had something to do with rights this week…

The band was good! I got bisoued as we like to say by a band member. Its a franglish word for the french greeting of two kisses.

Lazy Sundayz
My roommates and I didn’t even leave the house this Sunday. We had a lazy homework day. We felt a little guilty but those days are good sometimes. Plus, since I had finished my homework I ended up being able to skype home! This week was the first time I’d used skype since coming to Europe and in one evening, I spontaneously talked to 3 friends, my whole family and my cat!

This is what Sunday evening often looks like. Homework, Skype, some facebook and youtube, And mostly just not studying till late at night because we get distracted by roommie bonding!

Look Both Ways
One of the weird things around here is cross walks. There are crossing lights that change regularly, but no one seems to pay much attention. Contrary to Austria (where there is a huge fine for crossing on red) the French just cross when clear and cars just go. Usually it’s safer to go on red. Monday, I began to walk on a green light in the cross walk and was almost taken out by a large truck.

Crosswalk sign from Google images. I’m not sure where my picture is.

Joyeuse Anniversaire
Tuesday was my (real) mom’s birthday. Tuesday was also my host dad’s birthday! For my mom, my friends and I made a video that included “Happy Birthday” in about 8 languages. For my host dad, we brought him wine and had a slightly fancier than normal dinner!

Parlez-vous française?
Homework is picking up and we got to meet our conversation partners on Wednesday evening!  These are French students that want to practice English and help us with French. We are assigned to people but the first meeting was all of us together to avoid awkward silence. My partners are two 18 year old girls and they don’t speak a ton of English. So far we don’t know each other very well but I hope to hang out son. In the mean time, Carina and I met a young woman wanting to practice English that we’ve met with twice in a café. She offered to help us with homework when possible. It’s really hard to not use English. It’s hard to meet people when you only have basic conversation skills and a whole group of Americans around all the time.

Four Day Weekend
After many dead ends, we finally made plans for Toussaint! With the help of site director Sue or rather our travel agent Sue, we planned our trip to Corsica! One day in high school French class we watched a presentation about a mysterious beautiful Island off the coast of France. Corsica is a popular vacation spot and I assumed I’d never get to go there. So I tried my best to ignore the trip packages and forget about this surreal place. Thursday the 25^th of October, I bought plane tickets to go there. Real life.

Flannel
Friday morning as I got dressed I was stressing slightly that my Oregonian-ness was showing too much because I was wearing a flannel button-up shirt.  When I got downstairs I got more worried because my host mom (who wears wedges to leave the house) asked me if I was going to wear “that” to school. I guess I was right. I was her if it wasn’t European enough and she hurriedly explained “Non, non! C’est jolie! Pas trop Americaine!”. Turns out she was just worried I’d be too cold.

Finally,I bought Harry Potter a l’ecole des sorciers and have been attempting to read it. I figured reading a book I know and love in French would help make it easier to get through, but as it turns out, I’m finding that I get board because I know too well what is going to happen and so I don’t actually need to translate the French.

The cover!

C’est tout!
Bisous