Roma, Ro Ma Ma

Current location: Lucerne, Switzerland! My spring break plans have changed dramatically (thanks a lot, volcanic ash!). My planned trip: Austria, Berlin, Prague, Munich, Istanbul, Athens, Santorini. Austria, Berlin, and Prague were incredible (blogs to come later!), but instead I went to Zurich, now Lucerne, then Geneva on Saturday! Since I've had some extra train-time, I decided to update my blog yet again about an event that happened a month ago!

...My Easter Rome trip!

Notre Dame's Campus Ministry had a set itinerary for us in Rome, which was really nice. A lot of my friends studying abroad in various places in Europe all converged upon the Eternal City (hey, all roads lead to Rome, right?), and it was great catching up with everyone.

We arrived late Thursday night. Good Friday consisted of walking around Rome and seeing the sights in the morning



going on a Holy Sites Tour with the ND crew (including going up the Holy Stairs, which was a really moving experience).

and going to the Stations of the Cross with Le Pap himself outside the Colosseum!


We had to arrive about 2 or 3 hours early to get good spots. Luckily the ND flag was waved proudly as a way to find everyone. Night fell on the Forum, and the crowd continued to grow. After the long wait, several helicoptors started flying around, and the pope's entourage rolled on in.

The Stations were quite long, and all in Italian with some Latin mixed in for good measure. But the audience was a mixture of every possible nationality, young and old. I shared my program with a German couple next to me (it was funny hearing the differences in our pronunciation of the Latin), and it was just a really striking example of the universality of the Catholic Church. Did I understand a lot of it? No. Did I appreciate it? Yes.

The Stations ended and a few of us went to Campo di Fiori for a bit of nightlife, and then back to our hostel.

We woke up early on Holy Saturday for a tour of the Vatican Museums. We waited in line for what seemed like forever, then we had a tour guide lead us through the thousands of paintings, sculptures, the Sistine Chapel, and finally, St. Peter's Basilica. It was super crowded, but I appreciated it so much more than when my mom, Megan, Beth, and I went through by ourselves almost eight years(!!!) ago.


The rest of the day included eating, walking, eating, walking, and eating (gelato! pizza! lactose intolerance! I mean, what?). 50 of us got a free lunch at one of the best pizza places in Rome (or so says MTV Europe ha!) after the Vatican tour. Mom and Dad, your tuition money was completely worth the pizza lunch at Le Montecarlo. It was heaven in a pizza margherita.


We then went on a saints and relics tour with the Notre Dame group, leading us through several Roman churches.

That evening, we went to the Trastevere neighborhood, which was much more quaint and much less touristy than many other parts of Rome. My roommate Hilary met up with some friends from her major at Notre Dame (PLS, or Program of Liberal Studies, it's a great books course and it's kind of like a cult; rituals include excessive talking about literature and philosophy related topics, discussing their seminars and ND profs while leaving all non-PLS people present completely in the dark), and all of us went to dinner at Dar Poeta, a cute little place in a small alley. We waited about and hour and a half to get in, and it was completely worth it.

And I was also introduced to the most fabulous invention in the city of Rome: OLD BRIDGE GELATERIA. It's right by the Vatican, and you get THREE (I repeat: THREE!)heaping scoops of gelato PLUS whipped cream for 1.50 euro. It's homemade, delicious, and there's no better deal in Roma. We would go there twice a day.



Easter Sunday!

Upsides:
1) Jesus is Risen! Woo-hoo!
2) Easter Sunday at the Vatican. Can you get closer to Heaven that that? Methinks no.
3) Getting to see 80 year old nuns practically fighting to the death jockeying for a better position.
4) Discovering that the Vatican has official state umbrellas (yellow and white, naturally)... and that Swiss Guards have special rain ponchos.

5) Getting to see my cousin Luke in Rome!


Downsides:
1) Pouring.Rain.All.Day.
2) No.Umbrella.

3) Standing for 6 hours at the Vatican
4) Being locked out of our hostel from 11-4.
5) Discovering the hard way that my consumption of long island iced tea should be limited to one.



-----
and then commenced the WORST 24 HOURS OF MY ENTIRE LIFE. I'm not exaggerating in any way, shape, or form. After a long trip from Italy to Paris, we arrived too late to take a train home to Angers. Instead of shelling out 30 euros for a hostel for about 7 hours (we arrived in Paris at 11 and our train left the next morning at 6:30 am), we made the STUPID decision of spending the night on the streets of Paris. Bad, bad, bad idea. I had looked up in advance a few all-night places in Paris, which are an extreme rarity because French labor laws prohibit businesses from opening more than a certain number of hours per week. Paris is definitely not a city that never sleeps. I wish I had know that in advance. Alas.

We headed to the Champs Elysees for a few late-night places, which ended up being a Quick (France's version of a McDonalds), where two of my friends ordered meals and ate them painstakingly slowly, so as to buy more sitting-down-and-staying-warm time. It was cold that night in Paris, maybe 25 degrees plus wind, and I was still in my Rome sundress. After we could no longer stay in the Quick, we decided to try to sleep in Gare Montparnasse, the train station. But the realities that the metro closed a few minutes earlier and that the Champs Elysees and Gare Montparnasse are on opposite sides of Paris quickly set in. My three friends and I, already exhausted from little to no sleep and too much walking in Rome and jetlag from our day's journey, began the longgggggggg walk to Gare Montparnasse. The streets were deserted. We could even cross the Champs Elysees, one of the biggest streets in Paris, easily and without the use of crosswalks or traffic lights. The four of us were frozen, ready to collapse, and in sour moods as we arrived at the train station at 2 or 3 am.

The train station isn't truly indoors, and it's only a few degrees warmer there. We walked around looking for a good (read:safe and somewhat warm)place to sleep for a few precious hours. Whoever designed the benches in the station made the unfortunate decision to have the little arm rests in between the chairs rather than a completely flat model, making it impossibly for us to lay down. We tried to pull together some chairs in a nearby cafe for a makeshift bed, but eventually settling on some chairs in an area that was a tad warmer. None of us could really sleep more than a few minutes at a time, and it was torture watching the minute hand tick by. I've never, ever felt time go slower than those few hours. I was absolutely kicking myself for thinking that 30 euro for a hostel for a few hours wasn't worth it. We eventually made it home, but I was so tired I slept the entire day, and two days later I left for Austria for spring break!



I STILL heart Roma!

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Switzerland is absolutely beautiful! This volcanic ash business is crazy though. If you had told me two weeks ago that a volcanic ash cloud from ICELAND was going to completely change my spring break plans, I would have looked at you like you were crazy.

Bisous,
Claire

NorMANdy

Lovely Devoted Readers:
I have finally found the precious time to update my blog...about an event that occurred about a month ago. Yes, my friends, the time has come to hear about my adventures in Normandy at the D-Day beaches.

It was a cold and rainy day, which really never happens there. First, we went to the D-Day museum in Caens, France, a very well-made tribute to the events that occurred there. They had a pre-D-Day section on the events that led up to WWII, then a part about the actual day of June 6, then an after part that continued through the Cold War. We watched a film at the museum that was especially moving, it fully captured the enormity of the battle and the way in which history hung in the air on that day. It was a somber reminder of how many lives were lost fighting for our freedom--the footage was at times difficult for me to watch because of the rows of men just being mowed down on the beaches. In some cases, out of a platoon of two hundred men, only a handful would reach the top of the hill. I cannot even begin to imagine what my grandfather must have faced that day. It became very real to me, but I think a lot of people sadly don't understand how big of a sacrifice it was--a few teenagers in front of us were doing the Heil Hitler sign in front of a Nazi flag and taking pictures.


We then went to the American Cemetery at Omaha Beach. It was a bit funny because French people still aren't completely sure how to pronounce such a funny word, especially with French articles, ending up as "L'Omaha." And it was cool being able to say that I live in the place the beach was named after, if a bit odd that the word Omaha was plastered everywhere in sight.



The American Cemetery was very sobering. Rows of white crosses (and the occasional Star of David) filled the cliff above Omaha Beach. It kind of made me wonder what such a cemetery would look like today: how many crosses, stars of david, crescent moons, or just plain headstones (gotta account for all the atheists!).

I thought of how different the world of my grandparents and my own are. Even though I have lived through Desert Storm, the Iraq War, and now the Afghanistan War, my food hasn't been rationed, everyone I know doesn't have a son fighting in the war or a star in their window, I don't check the war updates every day in the paper. I'm not afraid my brother or dad will get called up for the draft.My day to day life is much the same, although there are certainly many who cannot say the same. To me, Germany and Japan are our Western allies, not people to be loathed or feared. We fight with unmanned, computer guided missiles now and the burden of fighting is often carried by people enlisting out of necessity. The World Wars were all-encompassing, all-or-nothing. They gave a generation a sense of meaning and purpose, something the generations of today have a hard time finding.


Walking down to the beach itself was a shock. Omaha Beach is absolutely huge. It's probably two football fields at least to reach the cliffs, which were heavily fortified with German munitions and underground bunkers.


We then went to the Point Du Hoc, a cliff overlooking Omaha Beach that was a necessary but incredibly bloody strategic point to take. GIs had to rappel up the cliff, facing fire from several directions, and overtake sealed bunkers and tanks.


Finally, we went to the German Cemetery, which was a bit different from the American Cemtery (while still having all the necessities, namely, corpses and tombstones). I was shocked at how young all of the German soldiers were: 17 or 18 years old. A lost generation.


If you're ever in Normandy, the D-Day beaches are a must for any American.

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I'm on spring break right now in Prague, which I'll be blogging about later. A bientot!
Claire

Where Does the Time Go?

I'm horribly behind on updating this old thing, but what else is new?

The weekend after Oslo I went to the beaches of Normandy. Incredible.
This past weekend I voyaged to the fabulous city of Rome, Italy for Easter. Double incredible.

Hopefully I'll get around to writing a lengthier post soon about both of those.
For now, I'm headed to visit my friend Niki (an amazing Austrian who stayed with my family for a month about 4 years ago!) in Austria, then to Berlin, then to Prague, then Munich, then Istanbul (or is it Constantinople?), then Athens, and finally to do nothing but lay on a Greek beach (Santorini).

Au revoir France, hello world.

The Post to Conquer all Posts

Hey everyone! It's been wayyyyyy too long since I last updated, but I promised myself that this blog would be something I wanted to write when I could find the time rather than an obligation. So hey, here's to keeping promises!

The past couple of weeks have been super-exciting. I didn't realize it's been THAT long since I'd last written, but humor me and mentally rewind:

Two weekends ago, I went to Lyon, France. G-O-R-G-E-O-U-S! Four of my friends from Angers/Notre Dame went with me, and a good time was had by all. We all couchsurfed with this guy named Boris and his three roommates--all college age too. Needless to say, it was a blast. Lyon is a capital of gastronomy, so we had to go to a couple awesome restaurants while we were here.

We saw the MOST BEAUTIFUL church I've seen anywhere in Europe up on the hill




We saw ancient ruins!


We went to a cinema and miniatures museum!


Yes, that's Indiana Jones' real hat and whip, and the bath is actually a tiny miniature! Who would have guessed?

and we just plain enjoyed the sights and scenery.




We also went to a really famous chocolate shop, Bernachon, which was worth every centime.





Then it was St. Patrick's Day! Which is a pretty big deal to Domers everywhere, going to the school of the Fighting Irish and all. French people...not so much, at least not older people. Hilary, my roommate, told my host mom "Happy St. Patrick's Day!" and she responded "You're the one who's Irish, not me!" Our host dad was clueless that May 17 was such an important day too. The importance of the date was not lost on local bars, however, and there were several St. Patty's Day parties being thrown. We went to see a U2 cover band at an awesome Irish pub here called James Joyce. I won a Guinness scarf that night which was pretty sweet too. Good thing I didn't have class the next morning!

St. Patrick's Day was the first time I felt kind of homesick though (a month and a half in...not bad, eh?). Most of you reading this have probably been to the annual Brosnihan St. Patty's Day party, and even though I missed it my freshmen year in college too, I still missed the off-key singing of Irish tunes, Grandpa's sandwiches, and of course the house being filled with family and friends. This was the first year without Grandpa's Irish cheer there (although I've heard Paul did an excellent job attempting to recreate his homemade bread and sandwiches). I was listening to my ipod on random, and the song "Danny Boy" came on and I practically burst into tears. It wasn't a bad thing, but it was good to reflect on how much has changed in my life the past year--good and bad.

At this point, you're probably thinking "wow, Claire, debbie downer conversation. I read your blog to live vicariously through your life in France." No worries, I return to the good stuff (and let's be honest, when you're studying abroad in France, it's hard not to have a lot of good stuff)!

This past weekend, Hilary and I traveled to Oslo, Norway. Yes, you read that correctly: Oslo, Norway. You're probably asking yourself why in God's name I chose to go to Oslo for a weekend. Funny, that's the same question I asked myself when I got there. It started out a couple months ago when two of my friends from Notre Dame who are studying in London this semester found 20 dollar roundtrip tickets to Oslo (thanks, RyanAir!). I did want to see them this semester and hey, a 20 dollar round trip ticket is a 20 dollar round trip ticket, right? Except when it's not. I learned a VERY valuable lesson on my trip to Oslo: look deeper than just the face value.

Last Friday morning, Hilary and I got up at 6:15 am, thought we'd miss the train, so RAN across town to the trainstation. We made our 6:45 am train to Paris (2 hours; 45 euro roundtrip). We then realized we didn't allot enough time to get to Porte Maillot, (a little spot in northern Paris where buses depart from) so we had to take a cab (7 euros apiece). We made the bus taking us to Paris Beauvais by less than a minute. That bus cost 14 euro each way and took an hour and fifteen minutes. We made it to the airport with 15 minutes until our flight LEFT. And the security at Beauvais is awful, awful, awful. Example: to search one person's bag, they shut down the entire line. Ahh, French efficiency! We barely made our coveted 20 dollar roundtrip ticket to Oslo (2 hours).

When our plane was descending beneath the clouds to land in Oslo, we saw something that shouldn't have shocked us in the least but did: snow. The entire plane, all at once, shouted something like "LA NEIGE! OH LA LA! LA NEIGE! Oh nonnnnn." How could this be? snow? in one of the northernmost countries in Europe? Craziness! I tried to cope with the reality that I was headed into the weather I purposefully tried to avoid by coming to France.
Unsuccessful coping.

When we landed, we found out we'd missed the bus headed back to Oslo and had to wait for another one. In the meantime, Hilary and I realized two things: 1) Norway is really, really, really, expensive and 2) Our money funds were terribly inadequate. We knew it was going to be pretty expensive (we both brought a backpack full of apples, crackers, etc.), but not thatttt expensive. Each of us had about 50 euro for the weekend, but 1 euro is 8 Kroner, and you can't buy ANYTHING with 8 Kroner (or in the words of Hilary: I have 8 Kroner...so that buys... a toothpick). We went to withdraw money and found that our debit cards were rejected, neither of us had a credit card, and it would take almost 50 euro roundtrip to get take the bus to and from Oslo (the airport is about 2 HOURS outside the city). I had visions of us becoming Norwegian beggars for the weekend. We knew we had a place to stay with a couchsurfing host, but we mentally prepared ourselves for doing nothing but walking around and eating only our apples the entire weekend.

We took the 2 hour bus trip to Oslo, and it was still cold and gray out. In my tourist guide, I discovered that Oslo is the size of Omaha: about half a million in the city proper, about 800,000 with the surrounding area. But it has 3 airports and Omaha only has one. Time to work on that, Omaha. By the time we got to the city, it was 4:30 pm (we had left Angers at 6:45 that morning, our wallets were significantly lighter, and both of us were exhausted.

We had about 5 euros left between us after buying bus tickets. I've never ever felt "moneyless" like that before in my life (and we even had some food with us and had a place to stay).
It's an awful feeling, and it was very, very humbling. Here we were, two girls studying abroad in France for the semester who decided on a whim to take a weekend trip to Oslo, and we were practically kroner-less. Even as I worried about how to get money, I felt that guilty/grateful feeling that I often feel for the things I have in my life. I do not in any way deserve the things I have--my family, the school I go to, the material pleasures I have. I live in one of the richest countries in the world with so many invaluable freedoms, I have received an excellent education, I'm about to receive a college degree, which 1% of the world receives, I have a great family with two parents who are still together, on and on and on. I felt guilty as I complained about our situation. There are too many who carry the same feeling of powerlessness that comes with not having money, but without a couchsurfer to stay with, apples in a backpack, and a back-up plan.

We passed a Western Union and we considered sending a desperate plea to our parents to wire us a bit of cash to get by for the weekend. We ended up going to an internet cafe and spending our last few kroners using skype to get ahold of Notre Dame Federal Credit Union. We were finally able to use our debit cards to withdraw small amounts and to use in stores.
We walked around for awhile and explored this little area that was called "the Greenwich village of Oslo" by our tour book. I don't think the people who wrote that have ever been to Greenwich village. The area, called Grunnerlokka, was a one-block area around a little park. It had some restaurants and bars there. Hilary and I went to a cute little place with paraphernalia from America everywhere, and naturally I found a Nebraska postcard!

The next day, we walked around some more, and we went to the Nobel Peace Prize museum, which was one of my favorite parts of the trip. I was surprised to find how much of the museum was about America, especially the civil rights movement, Martin Luther King Jr. and Obama--actually all of the museum except for one little room about the past winners. The museum was really moving, and I kept getting goosebumps throughout the entire tour. Personally, I feel that giving Obama the prize was premature at best. But the museum was a really uplifting reminder about how much one person can influence the world. It was also a stunning reminder of the responsibilities all of us have has Americans. What America does, the rest of the world takes note. It's time to pay attention to what we want them to take note of.




Plus they had awesome souvenirs in the gift shop!

Being a political science major and peace studies minor, I really loved learning about the politics and socio-economics of Norway. It went from being a poor country in the early 20th century to being one of the richest countries today. Norway has the highest concentration of millionaires per capita (1 in 85 people!), one of the highest literacy rates and an extremely well-educated citizenry (every person is required to know Norwegian, English, and another language, and I'm talking fluently and with no accent), a very extensive social welfare system, and Norway consistently ranks as one of the happiest countries in the world as well as having extremely high standards of living. A lot of its wealth comes from its tax structure and oil--high taxes on wealth and energy corporations. When oil was discovered in Norway, the government created taxes on it to fund Norway's Petroleum Fund. This is the fourth largest pension fund in the world, and the largest in Europe. The always-peaceful Norwegians literally put their money where their mouths are, too: the money is invested in socially and environmentally responsible corporations (an Ethical Council decides to exclude tobacco companies, corporations that produce landmines and clusterbombs, nuclear armaments, or for environmental or labor rights violations...no Walmarts or Phillip Morris for the Norwegians!). I've really got to hand it to the Norwegians, they have their cake and eat it too. But I think they would prefer some sort of smoked fish rather than cake. Or maybe caviar in a tube?

We finally met up with my friends Lauren and Cooper (plus their three friends Isaac, Dan, and Nicole). We saw more sights (an old fortress/castle) and made a cheap dinner at their hostel, then went to big sculpture garden the next morning.





The trip back was equally stressful, long, and expensive. I was glad to be home again in snow-free France.

Oslo: the cheap trip that wasn't. It was good seeing the city, not one of my favorite trips ever, and I probably won't be back (unless I win the peace prize...fingers crossed!), but it was good visiting Oslo, seeing my friends, and learning some valuable lessons.

Bisous,
Claire

Les Jeunes Verts and Becoming Ashamed of My Family's (Pathetic?) Genealogy

Not a whole lot happening this week, mostly because I'm sick.

I did go to a meeting of "Les Jeunes Verts" or "The Young Greens". Many of you know I'm active in the environmental cause in the US, and I wanted to see what the hot issues and political dialogue was like here in France. Politics in general are different in France since they have a multiparty, two-stage (or runoff) election system. The political parties are fairly diverse, and the Ecologie/Verts have done fairly well in elections at different levels in the French government (local, regional, etc.), and having the most success at the EU Parliamentary level.

The meeting of jeunes verts was held at a cafe in town, and there was free organic wine and appetizers (I think they should have just advertised that on their signs, they would have brought in more people...), and the students were really really interested in talking to me about the environmental movement in America. They were shocked at how much so-called special interest groups and lobbyists control our politics (for example, oil and gas companies spent $154 MILLION lobbying Congress in 2009).

In France, corporations cannot give to political candidates. People don't lobby as a career. This just seems like such a no-brainer to me. It's quite an insult in American politics today for a politician to "bought by special interest groups." Both Obama and McCain/Palin tried to portray themselves as being above such petty things, but the truth is that a major politician can't win an election without immense large-donor support--corporations that are investing in votes. This system has replaced the "one person, one vote" American ideal. The French system isn't perfect, but I think it's a much purer democracy than the American system. The parties don't have to water down their messages in order to get votes. I was really impressed by many of the platforms--clean energy, reducing consumption, public health, human rights, and democracy.

Oh, right, back to the meeting: We talked about nuclear power, the organic food movement, recycling, how it's hard for green party candidates in the US to gain momentum because of the bi-party system, and how the debate on climate change has been really skewed in the US. Les jeunes verts were preparing for the elections this Sunday, and one of the candidates came to talk. Overall, a really enlightening discussion (and hey, the organic wine was delicious too). It just made me realize how much we have to go in America, and how sad it is that most of this stuff never even gets mentioned in American elections.

Today, Chantal (my host mom) showed us a picture of her family's genealogy. She can trace her ancestors back to the early 1500s (!!!). I was stunned. I mean, I thought my family had done pretty well tracing our roots back to the early 1800s (I think?), and then things kind of get murky once you get to "the old country." We had a discussion about where my ancestors came from (Ireland, Germany, Luxembourg, Croatia/Czech Republic), and I was again surprised that both Alain and Chantal are only French. Chantal pointed out that almost all of her family had a "de" or a "de la" in their last name; it's a sign of French nobility.

I thought it didn't mean anything anymore, but when I talked to one of the neighbor boys and asked him if he knew my family, he shrugged and said, "they're bourge", which is short for "bourgeoisie." There is still a distinction in French society. I've been thinking about it a lot, about how there's nothing really like that in America. I'm not saying there aren't ways of showing you have wealth (cars! clothes! houses!), but no one looks at your last name and makes assumptions about you like that. You could be a big-shot millionaire (ok, excluding our dear friend Warren Buffett) in Omaha, but when you go to Texas, no one knows who you are. Even if you have the last name Rockefeller, it doesn't mean anything. Kind of cool if you ask me.

Oh, and I finally found cheap peanut butter here, which was actually quite a task. Peanut butter hasn't really caught on here--Nutella is HUGE but good ol PB not so much. In most of the grocery stores, the TINIEST container of peanut butter costs 4 or 5 euro. I went to an Asian supermarket and found a huge can(!) of peanut butter for 1.90 euro. Success has never tasted so sweet. and nutty.

I'm going to Lyon this weekend--it's in eastern France, at the foothills of the Alps. We're planning on going to a restaurant with a couple Michelin stars, too!

Ciao,
Claire

quote of the day: We do not inherit the earth from our ancestors, we borrow it from our children. -Native American proverb

More pictures of Paris, just for funsies:

I've Come to France to Discover My Love of...Falafel?

Salut!
It's been awhile since I last wrote, but here's what's been goin' down since the last post.

1) Last weekend I went to go see some French chateaux: Azay-Le Rideau, Chenonceau, and Chambord. They were all absolutely beautiful, and it's mind-blowing to me how people were able to build such ornate wonders without modern machinery.

2) I found a group called the Communaute de Chemin Neuf (or, "the community of the new way") here in Angers. It's a Catholic youth group type thing for college-age young adults. Last week, we sang some songs, watched a video about Islam (whether the Allah of Islam is the same as the God of Christianity, whether there is salvation for Muslims, etc), and talked about it in groups. We shared a meal and had tea afterwards. Everyone was really nice, and I got to practice my French for a good 4 hours. I continue to be amazed at the connection my Catholic faith brings. It's still kind of weird hearing "Saint Pierre" for St. Peter, and "Benoit le seize" for Benedict the XVI.

3) I went to Paris this weekend! Hilary and I couchsurfed with a really nice guy, Mathieu, in Montparnasse, right by the Pasteur Institute. It was cold but sunny, and we had a great time. He took us to a market today--you could buy pig's ears (!) and hooves to eat, and I also saw horse milk (!!)for sale at a Parisian grocery store. We did the usual tourist stuff (Eiffel Tower, Champs Elysees, Arc de Triomphe, Notre Dame etc.), hung around the Latin Quarter and got to see the magnificent paintings in the Musee D'Orsay for free, and got wayyy too excited about seeing the name of our school everywhere (Look! Notre Dame! Look! A sign for Notre Dame!).I was exhausted after coming home today, a sure sign of a good weekend, in my book.

4) I tried raw oysters, a French specialty, today. I've been trying new things a lot in France, and I was glad I tried the raw oysters, but let's just say I was equally glad to have a large glass of water and some bread nearby to get the slimy, salty feeling out of my mouth.

5) I've planned out a lot of my semester, as far as travelling goes. Next weekend is Lyon, France, after that, Oslo, then Normandy/Omaha beach, then Rome for Easter, then spring break (first Munich and Austria to visit my friend Niki, who stayed with my family for a month a couple years back, then Berlin, then Prague, then Istanbul, then Athens and the Greek Island Santorini). If anyone has advice for any of those places, send it my way!

6) My host mom, Chantal, held a French cooking class for us. We made a ham and cheese torte, a fish and gruyere tart, salad, and the most divine flourless chocolate cake (its only ingredients were butter, chocolate, cream, sugar, and eggs...I think any combination of those things would probably taste okay). My French mom and dad (Chantal and Alain) are on the left in the photo.

7) Angers has the most beautiful parks.I'm training for a half-marathon this summer, so I've been taking lots of runs around town. There's a place called Etang St. Nicholas, which is basically a big windy lake with waterfalls, flowers and plants, beautiful trees and cliffs, and a little zoo with kangaroos and llamas. Basically all that anyone needs to be happy, in my book.

8) In my quest to find cheap things to eat that are both filling and vegetarian, I have re-discovered my love of falafel. I knew kebab/falafel existed in France, but I had no idea how prevalent they were; THEY ARE EVERYWHERE! There are at least 15-20 in Angers, and they were on every other block in Paris. Almost everything is under 8 euro max, and you get quite a bit of food. I like to go to this place called Ali Baba here in Angers and get a hummus or falafel wrap for 3 euro. Delicious. Plus, the two Lebanese guys who work there talk to me and help me with my French. win-win!

9) I've finally found a French yoga studio. The classes are smaller than I'm used to, with only 4-8 people. The studio is kept a bit chilly, which is a shock coming from hot Bikram classes back in Omaha. Also, everyone wore socks, no one brought their own mat, and no one really had "yoga clothes"--one woman was in khakis and a button-up! It's an adjustment hearing the postures and body parts in French, but I enjoy it nonetheless. But it's still no One Tree Yoga in Omaha.

A bientot!