Today overall has been a good and somewhat productive day. I went to my classes despite the -10 degree weather and the foot of snow, I can only imagine what states like Florida, and Tennessee must be going through *insert sarcasm here*. I did some well needed laundry, my homework for the day after tomorrow, I even got to sneak in a couple episodes of How I met Your Mother, AND they served lasagna for dinner today!
Afterwards I called my father on Skype because he was finally online. It had been awhile since we had been able to speak so I was a little excited (I'm a daddy's girl). Then, it happened. Not more than five minutes into the conversation my dear, darling father asked,
"So, have you met someone?"
"Yes dad, I meet people everyday."
"hmmm"
"What are you trying to ask me dad?"
" Mmm... (looks down at his desk) If you've met someone, simple, that's it."
"Um, well no. I've got other things on my mind right now, that don't pertain to that at all."
"Umhmm well, I'm praying. (Looks me square in the face, well as much as you can via Skype) You shouldn't leave college without a mate."
(eyes bulging out of my face as I burst into robust laughter. He smiles. It's strained.)
We change the topic.
This seems to be a reoccurring exchange of words between my father and I.
I sense some anxiousness on his part.
Poor thing.
Monday, January 11, 2010
Thursday, January 7, 2010
French Fun Facts- according to yours truly
Well I have been living in France now for about 4 months officially, although it feels like years, and have made some observations on the people I have come into contact with.
WARNING: Some of this information might shock you. Or not.
*Parisians hate Americans (well, just the Bush administration really)
I had a guy tell me that he's always wanted to visit the states but because Bush was in office, he wouldn't allow himself to step on American soil. Now that we are under a new president, he said he will be planning a trip soon.
In my frequent trips to Paris, I noticed that Parisians (not all) are just in general, aggressive with everyone, even amongst themselves. To my surprise however, most of the Parisians I came into contact with where nice and helpful.
*French people are known not to shower frequently
This is true. Even a native French woman told me.
I have experienced intense body odor. EVERYWHERE.
People often wear the same outfit 3 or 4 days in a row (pit stains and all). I'm all for conserving water but c'mon wet wipes aren't just for babies.
*French women DO shave their armpits and legs
Although in the wintertime, it doesn't happen as much but who am I kidding? I usually partake in the same non-shaving rituals during the colder months as well. Makes sense.
*EVERYONE in France, particularly in Paris, smokes!
That's what it felt like anyway. Billows of smoke met and followed me everywhere I went.
Young, old...infants...ok, maybe I'm kidding about the infants but they might as well be, since their parents were sucking the deadliness in for them.
* The French think their language is the prettiest, and hate when you slaughter it
This is very true.
In September my friend and I were shopping at Zara. While we were in the dressing room, she needed to exchange a dress for another size. She gingerly stuck her head out of her stall and asked on of the workers in very bad french if she could get some help. With her nose stuck in the air, the lady said coldly " Aye speak ze english." At that point, I stuck my head out of my stall and gave my friend a sympathetic look.
*French people don't like to work.
Also not a falsehood.
Two days ago some handy men where in my room because apparently my shower was leaking to the first floor somehow. The dean informed me that two men would be arriving to break some tile and try to figure out where this leak was coming from. The appointment was made for wednesday at 1pm.
They arrived today.
Also, they love them some vacations. Every month or so, I have had a vacation for a decent amount of time. I'm not complaining though, more traveling for me!
* They love cheese.
Well they should. They have over 200 different kinds. We have at least three different cheeses for lunch everyday.
*French Fashion
Everyone always says that Paris is one of the fashion capitals of the world. Most people just wear black though. I don't know how much of that is fashion or just conformity, or maybe there's no difference. Anywho, most Parisians are really well dressed, they just look like they're going to funerals at high noon.
*Obsession with English and American music
I have found that time and again I meet people here who know all the popular American songs. My favorite, was when I was in a pub in Paris with some friends and a song came on that apparently is really popular in the States. A chorus of voices in that pub started sang the lyrics perfectly. At the end of the song, the guy next to me asked me what the words meant. Nice.
*PDA accepted
I have never seen so much PDA in my life ( not even in front of Thatcher Hall)
I was in the metro, minding my own business when I hear slurping, yes slurping noises near me. Through the reflection of the window in front of me, I witnessed as a couple thoroughly enjoyed each other's salivary glands. No joke.
Some people clearly don't find it a problem to reproduce in public.
Although it seems like I am bashing this culture I'm really not- these are facts that I have discovered and obviously doesn't involve everyone...just most from what I've seen... I've grown to have an appreciation for the French culture and the people; their passion..and well, their passion.
Well, that's all for now folks. Maybe as the year keeps going I will discover more mind boggling stuff. I'll be sure to keep you posted.
WARNING: Some of this information might shock you. Or not.
*Parisians hate Americans (well, just the Bush administration really)
I had a guy tell me that he's always wanted to visit the states but because Bush was in office, he wouldn't allow himself to step on American soil. Now that we are under a new president, he said he will be planning a trip soon.
In my frequent trips to Paris, I noticed that Parisians (not all) are just in general, aggressive with everyone, even amongst themselves. To my surprise however, most of the Parisians I came into contact with where nice and helpful.
*French people are known not to shower frequently
This is true. Even a native French woman told me.
I have experienced intense body odor. EVERYWHERE.
People often wear the same outfit 3 or 4 days in a row (pit stains and all). I'm all for conserving water but c'mon wet wipes aren't just for babies.
*French women DO shave their armpits and legs
Although in the wintertime, it doesn't happen as much but who am I kidding? I usually partake in the same non-shaving rituals during the colder months as well. Makes sense.
*EVERYONE in France, particularly in Paris, smokes!
That's what it felt like anyway. Billows of smoke met and followed me everywhere I went.
Young, old...infants...ok, maybe I'm kidding about the infants but they might as well be, since their parents were sucking the deadliness in for them.
* The French think their language is the prettiest, and hate when you slaughter it
This is very true.
In September my friend and I were shopping at Zara. While we were in the dressing room, she needed to exchange a dress for another size. She gingerly stuck her head out of her stall and asked on of the workers in very bad french if she could get some help. With her nose stuck in the air, the lady said coldly " Aye speak ze english." At that point, I stuck my head out of my stall and gave my friend a sympathetic look.
*French people don't like to work.
Also not a falsehood.
Two days ago some handy men where in my room because apparently my shower was leaking to the first floor somehow. The dean informed me that two men would be arriving to break some tile and try to figure out where this leak was coming from. The appointment was made for wednesday at 1pm.
They arrived today.
Also, they love them some vacations. Every month or so, I have had a vacation for a decent amount of time. I'm not complaining though, more traveling for me!
* They love cheese.
Well they should. They have over 200 different kinds. We have at least three different cheeses for lunch everyday.
*French Fashion
Everyone always says that Paris is one of the fashion capitals of the world. Most people just wear black though. I don't know how much of that is fashion or just conformity, or maybe there's no difference. Anywho, most Parisians are really well dressed, they just look like they're going to funerals at high noon.
*Obsession with English and American music
I have found that time and again I meet people here who know all the popular American songs. My favorite, was when I was in a pub in Paris with some friends and a song came on that apparently is really popular in the States. A chorus of voices in that pub started sang the lyrics perfectly. At the end of the song, the guy next to me asked me what the words meant. Nice.
*PDA accepted
I have never seen so much PDA in my life ( not even in front of Thatcher Hall)
I was in the metro, minding my own business when I hear slurping, yes slurping noises near me. Through the reflection of the window in front of me, I witnessed as a couple thoroughly enjoyed each other's salivary glands. No joke.
Some people clearly don't find it a problem to reproduce in public.
Although it seems like I am bashing this culture I'm really not- these are facts that I have discovered and obviously doesn't involve everyone...just most from what I've seen... I've grown to have an appreciation for the French culture and the people; their passion..and well, their passion.
Well, that's all for now folks. Maybe as the year keeps going I will discover more mind boggling stuff. I'll be sure to keep you posted.
Sunday, January 3, 2010
Colors of the Wind
Yesterday in church there was communion.
During the breaking of bread, the pianist played "Colors of the Wind" from the Disney movie, Pocahontas.
I had a little, quiet giggle session because it was just so random. The pastor was talking about accepting the body of Christ in form of bread and all of a sudden an image of Meeko and Percy popped into my head.
A month before, in the church's orchestra, we took a trip to Marseilles to play at another adventist church and we played "Colors of the Wind" and "Irish music in 3rd class" from Titanic.
Those French people really like their movie soundtracks.
During the breaking of bread, the pianist played "Colors of the Wind" from the Disney movie, Pocahontas.
I had a little, quiet giggle session because it was just so random. The pastor was talking about accepting the body of Christ in form of bread and all of a sudden an image of Meeko and Percy popped into my head.
A month before, in the church's orchestra, we took a trip to Marseilles to play at another adventist church and we played "Colors of the Wind" and "Irish music in 3rd class" from Titanic.
Those French people really like their movie soundtracks.
Tuesday, December 29, 2009
Visit.
My sister left this morning. Sad story.
We had a great time together though, not so much of a sad story.
Although lots of great memories were made and had, here are some highlights of our trip:
*Cabin in the French Alps with the family I work for (ice skate outside- my first time)
*William Fitzsimmons concert in Switzerland (nice guy he is)
* Hour wait for the train in the freezing cold weather b/c it got stuck in snow, 50 somethin' yr old Arab man asks me how old I am, what hotel I'm checking into and whether or not he can come.
* Third night in Paris, meet up with some locals- lots of laughs/jokes. good times
* Visited the Louvre and saw the painting that was used for Coldplay's Viva La Vida album. I saw other paintings too I guess. That was just the most important one of course.
*Walking to the metro one day, a man tries to grab my face. Sister pulls me to safety, we laugh nervously.
*La Sacre Coeur, La Tour Eiffel, Montmarte, La Defense & Hausman Saint Lazare we visited. I have decided that I despise huge crowds, especially during the holidays. I have also decided that I am a country girl at heart, I'd rather commute to a city from time to time.
* Amazing Christmas Eve dinner where I was reunited with my southern village roommate and good friend Grace.
* Christmas day spent with my sister walking all over Paris, nice dinner at a little restaurant near the Eiffel Tower.
*I've mastered the metro system now. Feels good.
*Attend church in southern Paris, great worship service
Great Christmas break indeed!
We had a great time together though, not so much of a sad story.
Although lots of great memories were made and had, here are some highlights of our trip:
*Cabin in the French Alps with the family I work for (ice skate outside- my first time)
*William Fitzsimmons concert in Switzerland (nice guy he is)
* Hour wait for the train in the freezing cold weather b/c it got stuck in snow, 50 somethin' yr old Arab man asks me how old I am, what hotel I'm checking into and whether or not he can come.
* Third night in Paris, meet up with some locals- lots of laughs/jokes. good times
* Visited the Louvre and saw the painting that was used for Coldplay's Viva La Vida album. I saw other paintings too I guess. That was just the most important one of course.
*Walking to the metro one day, a man tries to grab my face. Sister pulls me to safety, we laugh nervously.
*La Sacre Coeur, La Tour Eiffel, Montmarte, La Defense & Hausman Saint Lazare we visited. I have decided that I despise huge crowds, especially during the holidays. I have also decided that I am a country girl at heart, I'd rather commute to a city from time to time.
* Amazing Christmas Eve dinner where I was reunited with my southern village roommate and good friend Grace.
* Christmas day spent with my sister walking all over Paris, nice dinner at a little restaurant near the Eiffel Tower.
*I've mastered the metro system now. Feels good.
*Attend church in southern Paris, great worship service
Great Christmas break indeed!
Wednesday, December 16, 2009
Memories
I've been having a great time, living the life abroad.
The journey so far has been filled with tears, laughter, enlightenment, spiritual awakening and overall growth for the better. Even though I'm here I haven't in the least bit forgotten about the special things back in the States that have contributed to the person I am today. Oh how I miss it all...
I miss driving my car through the back hills of Collegedale during the crisp fall mornings. Gold colored, burnt-orange leaves falling silently to the ground.
I miss my improv crew
I miss making cards full of joy and encouragement and passing them around in a nursing home
I miss the social functions at the Footes' home (swing dancing, was one of the best in my opinion)
I miss singing hymns in church
I miss randomly showing up at Tara, Sarah, Brittany, Brittany and Nicks house (yes, you were a resident my friend) and having sing-a-long sessions after vespers
I miss good talks and trips to the Yellow Deli in the middle of the night
I miss walking around Coolidge park with friends, throwing around a football, or just crusting on a blanket.
I miss making new friends and long trips to Michigan listening to Priscilla Ahn and Jon Foreman
I miss challenging conversations about spirituality (thanks Ben and Zach)
I miss talking about fashion, boys and watching Dr. Quinn Medicine woman all 6 seasons in about a week (Ashley, Amanda and Sharon)
I miss venus & mars (Leslie, Monica, Eric, Ryan, Stella, Ben, Zach, Nick, Sarah, Tony,...oh geez the list goes on)
I miss late night talks and should-be-studying but opting to dance, sessions with my roommates in Hickory 8 (Grace, Edely,)
There are a lot more things I miss but it might be a longer blog than I would want...
The last few years at Southern have been quite rough for me, losing family members to death, dealing with a horrific break-up, "finding" myself again, changing my major and patching things up with my Creator. Since I live on mountain, I have lots of time to think about and reflect on lots of things. All in all, I just thank and appreciate everyone I have come into contact with over the last three years. I will hold onto these precious memories no matter where I am.
"Life is a rough Biography. Memories smooth out the edges." - Dante G. Roque
"Memory is a way of holding onto things that you love,
the things you are, the things you never want to lose."
-The Wonder Years
The journey so far has been filled with tears, laughter, enlightenment, spiritual awakening and overall growth for the better. Even though I'm here I haven't in the least bit forgotten about the special things back in the States that have contributed to the person I am today. Oh how I miss it all...
I miss driving my car through the back hills of Collegedale during the crisp fall mornings. Gold colored, burnt-orange leaves falling silently to the ground.
I miss my improv crew
I miss making cards full of joy and encouragement and passing them around in a nursing home
I miss the social functions at the Footes' home (swing dancing, was one of the best in my opinion)
I miss singing hymns in church
I miss randomly showing up at Tara, Sarah, Brittany, Brittany and Nicks house (yes, you were a resident my friend) and having sing-a-long sessions after vespers
I miss good talks and trips to the Yellow Deli in the middle of the night
I miss walking around Coolidge park with friends, throwing around a football, or just crusting on a blanket.
I miss making new friends and long trips to Michigan listening to Priscilla Ahn and Jon Foreman
I miss challenging conversations about spirituality (thanks Ben and Zach)
I miss talking about fashion, boys and watching Dr. Quinn Medicine woman all 6 seasons in about a week (Ashley, Amanda and Sharon)
I miss venus & mars (Leslie, Monica, Eric, Ryan, Stella, Ben, Zach, Nick, Sarah, Tony,...oh geez the list goes on)
I miss late night talks and should-be-studying but opting to dance, sessions with my roommates in Hickory 8 (Grace, Edely,)
There are a lot more things I miss but it might be a longer blog than I would want...
The last few years at Southern have been quite rough for me, losing family members to death, dealing with a horrific break-up, "finding" myself again, changing my major and patching things up with my Creator. Since I live on mountain, I have lots of time to think about and reflect on lots of things. All in all, I just thank and appreciate everyone I have come into contact with over the last three years. I will hold onto these precious memories no matter where I am.
"Life is a rough Biography. Memories smooth out the edges." - Dante G. Roque
"Memory is a way of holding onto things that you love,
the things you are, the things you never want to lose."
-The Wonder Years
Tuesday, December 15, 2009
Friday, December 11, 2009
Let's not be stupid again.
Tomorrow my sister and I will be reunited after almost six months of separation. She's the best, the very best and I can't wait to see her.
On a different note, the last three days for me have been much reflection and searching. I just got back from from a school trip to Strasbourg, Colmar, and Alsace (all in France). I visited christmas festivals and medieval villages. I took a boat tour and bought christmas presents for my family. It was all so christmas-y, warm and inviting. Europeans do christmas right in my opinion. That however is not what got me thinking though. Among all of this joyful, and colorful experience I was faced with a lot of sadness. I had the opportunity to visit a concentration camp here in France. Happy Holidays?! yeah, I know but I'm glad we went.
Struthof is the name, and horror is the game. I've read the Corrie Ten Boom book and have had history courses about that fatal event in history but nothing, my imagination or knowledge combined can compare to the rush of emotion I felt as I stood in the very place where thousands lost their lives.
Upon arriving, we were ushered into a room where there was a screen showing horrifying clips and pictures of what went on in the concentration camps during that time. Quotes of the deceased where being read during these clips and we were shown letters of what people were thinking and saying throughout their time at Struthof. Afterward we entered a room that had various pictures blown up on the walls with information about what was going on during that time period particularly in France. And then, I walked outisde to see this:
I walked in to be reminded about this tragedy but years ago innocent people walked in, not knowing that they would cease being treated like humans.
The not-so-funny thing was that behind and all around that gate was the most beautiful view. Mountains looming in the distance and trees and green for miles. It felt good to be in such beautiful nature, but the fact still remained, despite the beauty of it all, there was a darkness hovering.
It was the beginning of my journey and to be honest, I had shivers down my spine. There was something eerie about walking in and leaving someplace where many had walked in and never left. I felt honored and sad. The first building I went in was more information and pictures and some articles of clothing, utensils and various objects that were used to inflict pain on people.
I was not, however prepared for the next building I was about to walk in. There was a sign on the door that said, Silence et Respect. I walked in, barely breathing.
The first thing my eyes laid sight on was a contraption used to cremate bodies. There was a gas chamber right next door and through a little window I could see the "shower" used to kill hundreds of people at one time. I sucked in a breath in the next room. There were still blood stains on the walls. Apparently it was an execution room. There was a drain in the middle of the room so that the victims blood could run down into it immediately after being shot in the neck. My vivid imagination ran wild without my permission. Women crying, bald men walking around like zombies, the life sucked out of them.
There were small rooms where hundreds were crammed in for punishment. They couldn't sit or lie down and they were naked. There was a surgery room- where the doctors ran their painful "experiments". Small chambers about the size of a locker, maybe a little wider where people were kept for three days as punishment before they were executed. Such cruelty. There were brave ones who lost their lives for standing up, for challenging those who tried to oppress them. It made me think.
It made me think a lot. These people lost everything, their dignity, their humanity, everything. It was a wake up call.
It made me remember about the things that really matter. It made me realize once again, that this world is not my home.
It made me realize that as humans we are capable of repeating mistakes. It's not over yet.
It made me realize more then ever that as hard as it may seem sometimes, to live my life fully for Christ is the only way I'll make it. Him first before me, always. The decisions I make now shape my character for later.
It won't always be peachy. About 60,000 people died at this camp.
It could happen, in a different form. I hope not.
"Unless you are faithful in small matters, you won't be faithful in large ones"
Luke 16:10 (NLT)
"Surgery Room"
On a different note, the last three days for me have been much reflection and searching. I just got back from from a school trip to Strasbourg, Colmar, and Alsace (all in France). I visited christmas festivals and medieval villages. I took a boat tour and bought christmas presents for my family. It was all so christmas-y, warm and inviting. Europeans do christmas right in my opinion. That however is not what got me thinking though. Among all of this joyful, and colorful experience I was faced with a lot of sadness. I had the opportunity to visit a concentration camp here in France. Happy Holidays?! yeah, I know but I'm glad we went.
Struthof is the name, and horror is the game. I've read the Corrie Ten Boom book and have had history courses about that fatal event in history but nothing, my imagination or knowledge combined can compare to the rush of emotion I felt as I stood in the very place where thousands lost their lives.
Upon arriving, we were ushered into a room where there was a screen showing horrifying clips and pictures of what went on in the concentration camps during that time. Quotes of the deceased where being read during these clips and we were shown letters of what people were thinking and saying throughout their time at Struthof. Afterward we entered a room that had various pictures blown up on the walls with information about what was going on during that time period particularly in France. And then, I walked outisde to see this:
I walked in to be reminded about this tragedy but years ago innocent people walked in, not knowing that they would cease being treated like humans.
The not-so-funny thing was that behind and all around that gate was the most beautiful view. Mountains looming in the distance and trees and green for miles. It felt good to be in such beautiful nature, but the fact still remained, despite the beauty of it all, there was a darkness hovering.
It was the beginning of my journey and to be honest, I had shivers down my spine. There was something eerie about walking in and leaving someplace where many had walked in and never left. I felt honored and sad. The first building I went in was more information and pictures and some articles of clothing, utensils and various objects that were used to inflict pain on people.
I was not, however prepared for the next building I was about to walk in. There was a sign on the door that said, Silence et Respect. I walked in, barely breathing.
The first thing my eyes laid sight on was a contraption used to cremate bodies. There was a gas chamber right next door and through a little window I could see the "shower" used to kill hundreds of people at one time. I sucked in a breath in the next room. There were still blood stains on the walls. Apparently it was an execution room. There was a drain in the middle of the room so that the victims blood could run down into it immediately after being shot in the neck. My vivid imagination ran wild without my permission. Women crying, bald men walking around like zombies, the life sucked out of them.
There were small rooms where hundreds were crammed in for punishment. They couldn't sit or lie down and they were naked. There was a surgery room- where the doctors ran their painful "experiments". Small chambers about the size of a locker, maybe a little wider where people were kept for three days as punishment before they were executed. Such cruelty. There were brave ones who lost their lives for standing up, for challenging those who tried to oppress them. It made me think.
It made me think a lot. These people lost everything, their dignity, their humanity, everything. It was a wake up call.
It made me remember about the things that really matter. It made me realize once again, that this world is not my home.
It made me realize that as humans we are capable of repeating mistakes. It's not over yet.
It made me realize more then ever that as hard as it may seem sometimes, to live my life fully for Christ is the only way I'll make it. Him first before me, always. The decisions I make now shape my character for later.
It won't always be peachy. About 60,000 people died at this camp.
It could happen, in a different form. I hope not.
"Unless you are faithful in small matters, you won't be faithful in large ones"
Luke 16:10 (NLT)
"Surgery Room"
