Thanks for Listening

I'm blushing a little, homeskillets.

I was flattered, if not a tad shocked, by the positive response to this post. Thanks for listening while I talk with my mouth full and carry on with janky lingo.

For all those lovely thoughts/comments/kudos--that means the world to me. I love to write, but in truth, I usually keep it to myself thinking that most people wouldn't really care to read it. Sharing it with you is my pleasure because y'all are the definition of spiffy.

Coming up: whirlwind Chateau excursions, the random things you would never guess about France, and PUMPKIN FREAKING PIE.

Sh*t may hit the fan with Fall midterms this week. But we'll have pie, which is basically the instant-win button of life. Get at me world.

Keep it simple stupid. Mo' pictures, less words!

Happy Sunday!

-lexi

What It's Really Like to Study Abroad in France

You know that one junk cabinet/drawer/closet you have sneakily stuffed with everything that wouldn't fit elsewhere?

That's an accurate depiction of what my thoughts & life have looked like for the past few weeks.

There's been a lot of song and dance around these parts. A few colorful character deets and plenty of wanderlust. But as I mentioned in this post, there's been far more left unsaid. Which would be completely  in 'whatevs' territory, except that I've been going multiple degrees of crazy with how much I want to say. That's rare for a keen observer who typically leaves details to the outside lands.

Let's get on this wild ride. Grab the rando fake mustache that's been sitting in said junk cabinet, the strongest cup of coffee you can find, and a tub of butter for good luck. We're going to France!

I arrived in France, wide-eyed and wonderful. It was my second time in the country, but I had been a veritable youngin' during my first trip. Living somewhere, I learned, is also a fast departure from a weeklong vacation.

Studying abroad in Nantes, France has been like nothing I expected, yet more than I ever could have dreamed. It's bizarre being an outsider, while pretending to be an insider for a few months. It's an unapologetic kick in the butt that makes you realize the shallowness of your own world -- like the feeling you get when throwing on a pair of 3D glasses in the movie theater.

It's a total holy-crap-this-is-real moment that could fo sho be on Oprah.

As a hopeless wanderer, I tend to adapt to new environments relatively quickly. Even after spending 2.5 years away from home (at Georgetown, in DC/Philly/NYC, Google, etc), I've never been truly homesick. (Mom & Dad, this isn't to say I don't love you bunches). Change doesn't scare me that way.

Studying abroad in France, however, is a different beast. I changed, adapted, and familiarized as I normally would. But there was one snag in this game plan: mindset.

And that's the part of the roller coaster ride with the unexpected HUGHHHHH JASSSS drop. The one that makes your stomach feel like it just peaced out on a whim.

Without really trying, I found myself thinking about France via subtraction rather than addition. The things lost rather than gained.

I was missing friends who were all sorts of essential, a fall semester on the Hilltop, iced coffee, long showers, summer shenanigans, a common timezone, variety in EVERYTHING, and most importantly, English -- my golden ability to communicate and my homefield advantage. I wasn't stuck on it perse, but I couldn't help seeing those pin-sized holes around me. Normal life minus normal things = just life.

Even loving the experience, that mindset was a wall or sorts. It was the basic realization of meeting a world that was, well...foreign. That seems like Obvious 101, but it wasn't.

In the recent few weeks though, my mindset has changed a bit. Confronted with a few small comforts, it's become easier to see things through the lens of addition.

You see, I forgot a critical part of the equation: the value-added.  I forgot the +France part of this shindig. Granted, that +France comes with -Normalcy, but isn't that the point? I didn't come here to do things normally, to have the same things I normally would, to be comfortable.

Because really, what kind of smashbang is that?

I came here to learn. About culture, language, people. We have a whole dealio going on over here. I came to see what it's like to do life...a little differently. And to try living a little different myself. I came to find the best dang croissant & cuppa joe. (And to endure plenty of trial and error in the meantime.)

I'm loving that my walk home gets better with age and looks like a million bucks on Fridays.

I'm amused by the dear guy who has taken to sitting next to me in class and making me laugh something wonderful.

I'm content that I know ma belle ville (my beautiful city) now and that getting lost is a rather intentional way of finding myself.

I'm hella happy that my host mom is totally into pumpkin pie; that my host dad thinks French Lit sucks too; that my host sister and I are BUDS; and that my host brother's sarcasm rivals my own.

Finally, I'm starting to understand. We're talking addition, not subtraction. Just like anywhere else, there's ups, downs, but also high fives all around.

So life may kinda look like that one hot-mess-of-a-junk cabinet that you inevitably have. But even amidst the chaos of it all, those surprise gems hiding in the back always seem to add a little something special to life.

And that equation is easy as pie.

En Masse

This past Sunday morning started with me thanking the world for creating comfy beds. Espresso and figs followed suit, naturally.

Over breakfast, my host mom & dad asked what I was planning to do for the day. I responded with a "je ne sais encore" {i don't know yet} and returned the question. They replied that they were going to Sunday Mass and then asked if I wanted to come. I responded with a hesitant, smiling maybe.

30 minutes later, I was on my way to one of the few religious gatherings I've ever attended in my life. Simply out of curiosity. While Georgetown is a jesuit school, I make no secret of the fact that I'm not devoutly religious, much less Catholic. I've attended mass twice before -- once at a jesuit leadership conference last summer with B and once to see a friend sing at a Georgetown service.

But yo dudes / dudettes, I quite enjoyed it. I liked hearing the sweet harmony of the hymns; I liked watching the little girl in front of me contentedly draw herself as a princess in a castle; and most of all, I liked the feeling of togetherness.

It was simple. There is something blatantly beautiful about seeing people come together for a communal purpose. It feels radically different from the individual-emphasized American culture to which I'm accustomed, with holidays and tragedies as the only cultural exceptions.

I didn't understand catch much of the all-in-French sermon, save for a word that was repeated at least 10 times and sounded a whole lot like "gazpacho." Or was it gelato? I digress. In normal space cadet fashion, I almost kissed the guy next to me smack dab on the lips during blessings pecked on each cheek. I cursed under my breath; he blessed me anyway. Thank heavens?

At the end of the day, I didn't call myself any more religious. Or any more Catholic. But rather, I'd say I was just a little more appreciative of the window into a different sort of life. A life where the music flows sweet, steady, and perhaps best of all,

en masse. 

~lexi

Summer Adieu

This is how you convince yourself that summer isn't ending. By wearing shorts on a pleasantly warm Saturday night and walking barefoot to the river to do homework. By choosing blissful ignorance, when all of Nantes stares like you're walking the streets nude. Though perhaps that would seem more normal. This is how you feel Fall coming, even while the warm memories of summer linger slow and sweet.

~lexi

Nantes: The City You've Never Heard of But Will Fall in Love with Anyway

Since learning that I'd be studying abroad in Nantes in early March, I can't tell you how many times I've had this exact, same conversation:

"So cool that you're studying abroad this Fall! Where?" Me: "In France!" "That's awesome - I love Paris" Me: "I'm actually going to be in Nantes. It's another city about 2 hours west of Paris, in the Brittany region of France"  "Oh." 

This consistent reaction didn't really bother me, and I suppose it's only natural that people would assume Paris is the obvious place to be. So what about Nantes, then?

I could always tell you the facts--Nantes is the 6th largest city in France and home to the Université de Nantes, which is attended by over 30,000 students. Known for things like crèpes and galettes with beurre salé (salted caramel) and its graceful chateau, the city is the former seat of the Pays-de-la-Loire region and current hub of activity in Bretagne, northewestern France. It's renowned for its incredibly green transportation system and frequently touted as the most livable city in Europe.

But  in nearly every conversation with others, I failed to mention one very important fact: I had no idea what sort of experience I was getting myself into. With little more than barebones facts, I was jumping off the study abroad cliff and crossing my fingers that I wasn't going to hit rock bottom.

It's now my second week in Nantes, and I certainly don't think it was a mistake. The city is like a more cozy, intimate version of Paris--historic, charming, full of students, dotted with interesting restaurants, and incredibly easy to get around with the tram system. Big but not too big, and small but not too small. And unlike Paris, there is very little English spoken around the city, which has actually been immensely helpful in improving my French.

After arrival last week, the entire study abroad group (41 students + administrators) traveled to a little north to Vannes, l'île-Aux-Moins, Rochefort Terre, St. Goustan for a weekend of offsite orientation + bonding. I loved being able to discover the region and really meet the other IES program students. It was utterly exhausting to be going, going, going all weekend [and part of this week's fatigue] but an overall amazing experience.

We spent this past week in academic and program orientation, learning the ins and outs of life in Nantes. The orientation was longggggg, but there were a few really fascinating parts. Fun fact: When Americans see someone for a second/third/fourth time in one day, we typically say hi/hello again. The French, however, only say bonjour on the first greeting occasion. Those tiny cultural differences are surprisingly huge! Especially when the bus driver thinks your crazy for saying "Bonjour" for the 10th time in one day.

I start classes with an Add/Drop period on Monday and will get my first dose of classes ALL in French. I'm still conscious that my French speaking skills are "meh"; for me, it's still very much as if I'm driving a manual car, rather than an automatic. For me, it takes time to shift gears between verb tense, feminine/masculine words, and sentence structure.

But as a whole, I'm actually pleasantly surprised how much progress there seems to have been in one week's time. Immersion really does work wonders, I guess. This week, I start taking a French cours magistral, or lecture course, which could definitely be a doozy. I'm looking forward to meeting other French students, but it's also somewhat terrifying knowing that I'm going to stumble through basic conversation.

If there's anything I've learned from study abroad experience thus far though,  it's that sometimes, you need to walk to the edge of that dang cliff and

jump.

~LC

The Objective

Penser, parler, vivre en français -- Ça c'est l'objectif primaire du semestre.

{En anglais}

"To think, to speak, to live in French -- That is the main objective of the semester."

Well said, Mr. Director. Around noon, I met my host Dad (la deuxième papa) at my host family's restaurant for a leisurely lunch of fresh baked moussaka, baguette, cheese, and fruit. The restaurant is everything I could dream of and more, shaded with hues of charcoal gray and gold. Orientation afterwards was long but interesting....and definitely all in French. Rule #1 of the study abroad center is NO ENGLISH, and it's strictly enforced. I was surprised by how well I could understand and not-so-surprised by how less-than-well I could speak.

But in short, a wonderful first day!

~lexi