The past couple of weeks, Sean and I have been travelling and visiting Paris, Venice and Florence. We spent a week in Paris and then a week in Italy, spending 2 days in Venice and then 4 days in Florence. While we were in Florence, we did a couple of tours, one being a wine tour and the other being a hike. The wine tour was of an area in Italy called the Chianti. It is between Florence and La Sienna and is really pretty. Sean and I learned how to properly drink and smell wine. We also visited a cute little town up on a hill in the Chianti where we had a great view of Tuscany and the Chianti area.
The hike that we did was in an area called Cinque Terre. It is on the east coast of Italy and is absolutely gorgeous. This hike is through 5 little towns that are built on cliffs near the water. Sean and I did the whole hike and were really tired at the end of it. It is a 9km hike but half of the time you are climbing sharp inclines. It was absolutely gorgeous. We woke up at 6am and got home around 12:30am so it was a long day but well worth it.
One day, we spent touring around Florence and went to see Michelangelo’s David (which was amazing) the statue is huge. We also climbed the duomo (which is the dome of the cathedrale in Florence). There were 463 stairs or something like that and we were up pretty high. We also walked around the city a little bit and enjoying the little piazzas that you randomly come across.
Monday, June 30
Tuesday, June 24
Monday, June 23
oh my beardness
so, i was browsing some friends photo's and found this doozy. i had forgotten how ridiculous it looked. somewhat of a change from the me that is typing today.those in the photo are, from left to right, an american girl whom i don't remember and have no way of finding out who she is. her, for lack of a better word through lack of understanding the situation, friend and her were in town, Palermo, Sicily, because her friend was a singer in a band that consisted of just him and an orchestra and some opera music which was performed in an opera theater. in fact, come to think of it, I don't think he was a band at all.
his voice made me think of some archvillan in some comic book series who could knock down entire villages just by hitting a low g note. he was not a particularly
evil looking person, in fact he resembled a very tall and thin version of a stork; a stork that wore a suit and had a people face arms for wings and legs for legs. also, he looked more like human version of Lurch Adams than a stork. He sang in Italian and rocked the house and then left us, never to meet again.
to her left, our right, is Jodi the folk singer. to her left is her best friend Rachel whom neither new the either would be in Sicily, let alone Palermo, let alone the same restaurant one evening in May. I was there and wasn't really too sure what all the screaming and crying and shouting and hugging was all about until the two of them settled down. Jodi was the first to settle because she was the only one to not have had an emotional spike comparable to when Tim Murphy was blown back off the T-Rex fence in the Jurassic Park. She explained that she had been at a village close the city with family on the past week and so or hadn't speak english, at all. I forgave her and she continued, her english coming back in leaps and bounds.
By this time, however, Rachel had come back to us and could form words again. sentences where a bit much just yet, but at least her communication was recognizable. The two had tried and tried to make their plans compatible but had abandoned all hope when the whole project appeared futile. Yet, only when they had given up completely had their plans worked out better than they ever could have.
Next to Rachel in the photo is the one girl who's name i can't remember. I feel even more terrible about it because she is the one who entertained me the most. She was traveling with Rachel and was friends with Jodi as well. The three of them went to school in Wash DC, USA and had been studying (I think Jodi did too) in Florence for the past four months. The four of us spent an afternoon at a small village somewhere just outside of Palermo and took some great photo's together. She-who-cannot-be-named was able to ascertain my love of taking photo's of other photographers without my talking about it. This might have been because i was also either asking the to take photo's for me (you see, my camera had broke a month previous) or because i kept grabbing for their camera and asking them after. Never the less, i need to find out her name. I feel a bit like Tom Tucker (anchorman for the Quahog Channel 5 News) asking for that girl he met last night at the sky lounge. I assure you this is not the case, I just feel bad that I remember everyone else in the photo.
Next is Valentina, from Sicily, Italy. Her mother is an America from Boston I believe, which means she loves to here stories from North America. She hosted Jodi for the one day she stayed in Palermo. Valentina is also a friend of a guy I stayed with near Verona with Grayson; you might remember that day better as the day i hitched from one place to another.
the last, and not least, is ... well, that's me and all my bearded glory. i kept it for a week or so once i got back to Ireland but it soon came off when people at work told me just how much older it made me look. there are some photo's of my last night at the pub before i left for italy, one particularly when i am up on a stool giving a farewell speech(it wasn't so much as speech as it was a photo opp). With myself standing next to the computer on which said photo is shown one of the regulars, one who came in to the pub one night completely locked and out of his mind drunk and I had refused because I didn't recognize him as he had recently shaved his beard, told me that it added ten years.
Not that age makes that much of deal to me, and not that i feel like i am thirty-five, thirty-six tomorrow, but I did go home a shave the old boy off.
I do miss him though, Finn at work told me I looked tougher with it.
edit: jodi was studying in London, England; not Florence, Italy.
edit: Carolina. she-who-could-not-be-named has been re-named Carolina, thanks to Rachel. Thank you very much.
edit: also, she had a really cool shirt.
Sunday, June 22
paris
it is so great to get back into paris.
i met sean at the airport on tues morn and we have been touring around paris and being french since then. we have perfected sitting in cafes, drinking by the seine and seeing the eiffel tower. tomorrow we are going to venice for the day and then going to florence for a few days.
your francophone, mandy
i met sean at the airport on tues morn and we have been touring around paris and being french since then. we have perfected sitting in cafes, drinking by the seine and seeing the eiffel tower. tomorrow we are going to venice for the day and then going to florence for a few days.
your francophone, mandy
Saturday, June 21
the wonderful
so as much as buying un-gum made for a bad day, the rest of sweden had nothing to do with the negative. that particular day cannot be reprsented by the post i left on it, in fact that story is the only bad thing that happened and in all seriousness (oh my goodness, you know i am being serious now since i've made a point of saying it) it really wasn't all that negative anyways.
i imagine i intended it to be a humorous anticdote, which you likely understood and didn't need me to spell it out for you.
hmmm. I do believe that that is the case and next time I will give you, the reader, more credit and not have to walk you through my thoughts.
with that thought cleared up, lets move on to another one: the graduation.
i don't know about you, but i've been to a graduation or two. Four actually, and that's just the one's for myself where I somehow managed to convince the powers that be that I deserved credit from them for having attended.
The first was preschool where I majored in finger painting in all prime colours. I never used this degree in elementary school, but it did give me a chance to explore my creative side. I don't remember much of the ceremony and i think it was because my buddy ryan had slipped something into my bottle.
The second was from grade eight. I was awarded the "Most Christian-Like Student" award, or rather would have had someone remembered that it was an award and given it to me. I was given a nice envelope though, and in it was a nice certificate which looked nice on my wall.
The third was high school and the forth was university. Both big, welcome surprises.
The point is that the four ceremonies were very similar and traditional and exactly what you'd expect, or at least exactly what I would have expected a graduation to be because what happens at them is pretty much what happens at all grads everywhere. Parents come, teachers talk, awards are given, ties are worn, hats are tossed and photos are taken.
Standard, right?
So Victoria, our Swedish friend, has this little brother. His name is Christian and he is in a heavy metal band (which we went to see and who were rather good). The reason myself, matty, nolan, sara and chris packed up our bags and flew to Sweden for 5 days was because we were invited to the graduation.
Wow, I thought. "A graduation, how cool. I love those things", I said out loud to Matty, "all those people wearing nice clothes and giving speeches and throwing hats. But I don't have a tie to wear or an award to give. I suppose I could bring my award from elementary school and give it to her brother, but I don't think i'd have enough room in my carry-on for it."
"You're pretty dumb, and I don't think he'd get the joke" replied Matty "and I don't think you have to worry about the tie-to-wear bit because i asked Vic the very same thing and she told me not to worry about it because it's not that sort of ceremony."
He was right. Instead of square topped hats they had sailor caps and instead of speeches they had a parade. Instead of certificates they had a giant photo of themself as a baby and instead of parents taking photo's they had parents and family and friends and grandmothers and tourists taking photo's. On their sailor cap was written their name and year of graduation.
The parade wound it's way through the city centre and ended up in a park. As the graduates walked on by they were singing and jumping and bombarded by well wishers with hugs and kisses and gifts of roses and stuffed bears and tiny champagne bottles that hung round their necks on blue and yellow lanyards.
When the parade had disappeared round the corner momma and papa brodenson, victoria's parents, took off down the street parallel to the route, and not alone either. every other parent that had been near us was bustling along to get to the best spot to see their graduate again.
the parade gathered at it's end in a park where bustling parents and family and friends and tourists searched through the sea of Swedes for the big baby picture that their graduate was carrying. Christian was with the rest of his band sharing a laugh with his friends Sir Eric, second guitar in the band, and Spider Pig, a fellow Swedish graduate. I knew these where their names because this is what was stitched into their Sailor Cap along with 2008, the year of their graduation.
We went back to the Brodenson household afterward and ate sandwhich cake and juggled for the little cousins.
Christian enjoyed his "most Christian like student" award I gave him or rather he would have had I have given it to him not to mention had thought of it when I was in Sweden and not just now seated at my computer.
i imagine i intended it to be a humorous anticdote, which you likely understood and didn't need me to spell it out for you.
hmmm. I do believe that that is the case and next time I will give you, the reader, more credit and not have to walk you through my thoughts.
with that thought cleared up, lets move on to another one: the graduation.
i don't know about you, but i've been to a graduation or two. Four actually, and that's just the one's for myself where I somehow managed to convince the powers that be that I deserved credit from them for having attended.
The first was preschool where I majored in finger painting in all prime colours. I never used this degree in elementary school, but it did give me a chance to explore my creative side. I don't remember much of the ceremony and i think it was because my buddy ryan had slipped something into my bottle.
The second was from grade eight. I was awarded the "Most Christian-Like Student" award, or rather would have had someone remembered that it was an award and given it to me. I was given a nice envelope though, and in it was a nice certificate which looked nice on my wall.
The third was high school and the forth was university. Both big, welcome surprises.
The point is that the four ceremonies were very similar and traditional and exactly what you'd expect, or at least exactly what I would have expected a graduation to be because what happens at them is pretty much what happens at all grads everywhere. Parents come, teachers talk, awards are given, ties are worn, hats are tossed and photos are taken.
Standard, right?
So Victoria, our Swedish friend, has this little brother. His name is Christian and he is in a heavy metal band (which we went to see and who were rather good). The reason myself, matty, nolan, sara and chris packed up our bags and flew to Sweden for 5 days was because we were invited to the graduation.
Wow, I thought. "A graduation, how cool. I love those things", I said out loud to Matty, "all those people wearing nice clothes and giving speeches and throwing hats. But I don't have a tie to wear or an award to give. I suppose I could bring my award from elementary school and give it to her brother, but I don't think i'd have enough room in my carry-on for it."
"You're pretty dumb, and I don't think he'd get the joke" replied Matty "and I don't think you have to worry about the tie-to-wear bit because i asked Vic the very same thing and she told me not to worry about it because it's not that sort of ceremony."
He was right. Instead of square topped hats they had sailor caps and instead of speeches they had a parade. Instead of certificates they had a giant photo of themself as a baby and instead of parents taking photo's they had parents and family and friends and grandmothers and tourists taking photo's. On their sailor cap was written their name and year of graduation.
The parade wound it's way through the city centre and ended up in a park. As the graduates walked on by they were singing and jumping and bombarded by well wishers with hugs and kisses and gifts of roses and stuffed bears and tiny champagne bottles that hung round their necks on blue and yellow lanyards.
When the parade had disappeared round the corner momma and papa brodenson, victoria's parents, took off down the street parallel to the route, and not alone either. every other parent that had been near us was bustling along to get to the best spot to see their graduate again.
the parade gathered at it's end in a park where bustling parents and family and friends and tourists searched through the sea of Swedes for the big baby picture that their graduate was carrying. Christian was with the rest of his band sharing a laugh with his friends Sir Eric, second guitar in the band, and Spider Pig, a fellow Swedish graduate. I knew these where their names because this is what was stitched into their Sailor Cap along with 2008, the year of their graduation.
We went back to the Brodenson household afterward and ate sandwhich cake and juggled for the little cousins.
Christian enjoyed his "most Christian like student" award I gave him or rather he would have had I have given it to him not to mention had thought of it when I was in Sweden and not just now seated at my computer.
Tuesday, June 17
the good, the bad and the expensive
i am in stockholm, sweden and i've been here for three days. this is the last day of my sweden visit and i fly to Dublin this evening. I am likely working again tomorrow night which is good because they pay me.
it is also good because sweden is so damn expensive.
just yesterday i was leaving the hostel to meet up with some friends of a friend. I went to pick up a pack of gum because the onions i had microwaved were lingering. not only is that embarrassing and uncomfortable when in a group, it was a terrible reminder of how little research i did into the hostel i was staying at. A bitter taste that shouted:
hey, why didn't you check if they had a stove top on site before you went out and bought pasta, chickpeas, onions, tomatoes, rosemary and olive oil?
I ignored myself and went about my way. Shops are all over the place and i went into the first one and waited in line. It was boring and at that moment I wanted so much more to be bored while on the subway to meet the friends of a friend. But here i was bored in line with a bad taste in my mouth not wanting to ease my boredom with conversation because that would be embarrassing and uncomfortable for all.
blah blah blah said the attendant. It will be helpful to know that I looked Swedish
I handed him the Extra pack I had plucked from the front display. I smiled.
blah blah he said again and I handed him 20 krons and he handed me my change.
"Tack" said I, to maintain the charade. Thanks.
As I walked out the door to search for the nearest subway entrance I opened my gum and popped a piece in my mouth. I noticed two things: he had only given my 5 krons back and I had not bought gum. Apparently Extra also makes a black liquorish candy and puts it in the same packet.
I enjoy black liquorish, but not when I was expecting gum. The bad taste prevailed and I had spent too much to get it.
every trip has it's low points. one low point over nine months isn't so bad.
it is also good because sweden is so damn expensive.
just yesterday i was leaving the hostel to meet up with some friends of a friend. I went to pick up a pack of gum because the onions i had microwaved were lingering. not only is that embarrassing and uncomfortable when in a group, it was a terrible reminder of how little research i did into the hostel i was staying at. A bitter taste that shouted:
hey, why didn't you check if they had a stove top on site before you went out and bought pasta, chickpeas, onions, tomatoes, rosemary and olive oil?
I ignored myself and went about my way. Shops are all over the place and i went into the first one and waited in line. It was boring and at that moment I wanted so much more to be bored while on the subway to meet the friends of a friend. But here i was bored in line with a bad taste in my mouth not wanting to ease my boredom with conversation because that would be embarrassing and uncomfortable for all.
blah blah blah said the attendant. It will be helpful to know that I looked Swedish
I handed him the Extra pack I had plucked from the front display. I smiled.
blah blah he said again and I handed him 20 krons and he handed me my change.
"Tack" said I, to maintain the charade. Thanks.
As I walked out the door to search for the nearest subway entrance I opened my gum and popped a piece in my mouth. I noticed two things: he had only given my 5 krons back and I had not bought gum. Apparently Extra also makes a black liquorish candy and puts it in the same packet.
I enjoy black liquorish, but not when I was expecting gum. The bad taste prevailed and I had spent too much to get it.
every trip has it's low points. one low point over nine months isn't so bad.
Monday, June 16
Saturday, June 14
Last day of school
Friday was my last day of school.
I am officially a teacher (if you would like to get me a gift, i only accept cheques)
I leave Dijon on Monday to go to Paris to start my travelling.
I will be eventually be meeting up with --b where we will both try really hard not to kill each other while we travel and hopefully work in France together..
since I wasnt allowed to post on Heathers birthday, i will say Happy Birthday to Heather today... its more of a belated happy birthday.
your franco, Mandy
I am officially a teacher (if you would like to get me a gift, i only accept cheques)
I leave Dijon on Monday to go to Paris to start my travelling.
I will be eventually be meeting up with --b where we will both try really hard not to kill each other while we travel and hopefully work in France together..
since I wasnt allowed to post on Heathers birthday, i will say Happy Birthday to Heather today... its more of a belated happy birthday.
your franco, Mandy
Friday, June 13
and so it is
June is a very special month for the Murray family because so very many of us, nearly half actually, celebrate our birthdays.
Today is Heather's birthday and she enters that magical target market of twenty something. That age where you graduate university, travel the world, (hypothetically) find your first of four careers, quit it, start the second and prepare to quit it, and (hypothetically) move out of your parents house for the fourth and final time.
Let's remember that those last two are hypothetical and everyone moves at their own pace.
Good luck with your pace Heavier, and make sure to keep a reasonable pace tonight.
Today is Victoria's younger brother's graduation party. Sweden (by the way I have been in Sweden for three days now) is lovely and reminds me, and the other four Canadian's with me, of Canada because it has lots of tree's, lakes and signs telling you that there is a high chance of a deer, moose or elk crossing out in front of you.
Lots of love,
--bbb
Today is Heather's birthday and she enters that magical target market of twenty something. That age where you graduate university, travel the world, (hypothetically) find your first of four careers, quit it, start the second and prepare to quit it, and (hypothetically) move out of your parents house for the fourth and final time.
Let's remember that those last two are hypothetical and everyone moves at their own pace.
Good luck with your pace Heavier, and make sure to keep a reasonable pace tonight.
Today is Victoria's younger brother's graduation party. Sweden (by the way I have been in Sweden for three days now) is lovely and reminds me, and the other four Canadian's with me, of Canada because it has lots of tree's, lakes and signs telling you that there is a high chance of a deer, moose or elk crossing out in front of you.
Lots of love,
--bbb
Thursday, June 12
Flying
Yesterday, I went flying.
in an airplane.
One of the English teachers at the school that I work at's husband took me flying yesterday in his airplane. Its a 4 seater and so quite small and some would say scary but I say awesome.
We flew over the region of Bourgogne in France (which i think is burgundy in english, but i could be wrong)
It was awesome.
The airport itself was quite an interesting experience. Because Roger (I call him Rog) is well known at this airport (which is on a military base) we didnt have to go thru security or anything. There was a French woman running the ground control wearing a very tight short skirt and an orange reflecter jacket and heels. Her job was to tell us when it was okay to take off. Now, im not sure if it was just this particular day that she decided to wear heels or if she wears heels every day but it didnt seem very practical (or smart for that matter) for her to be wearing these heels. I felt sorry for her because she looked so awkward trying to do her job properly.
Anyways, the flying part was so great. We werent able to see the Swiss alps because it was too cloudy but was still pretty great.
your franco
in an airplane.
One of the English teachers at the school that I work at's husband took me flying yesterday in his airplane. Its a 4 seater and so quite small and some would say scary but I say awesome.
We flew over the region of Bourgogne in France (which i think is burgundy in english, but i could be wrong)
It was awesome.
The airport itself was quite an interesting experience. Because Roger (I call him Rog) is well known at this airport (which is on a military base) we didnt have to go thru security or anything. There was a French woman running the ground control wearing a very tight short skirt and an orange reflecter jacket and heels. Her job was to tell us when it was okay to take off. Now, im not sure if it was just this particular day that she decided to wear heels or if she wears heels every day but it didnt seem very practical (or smart for that matter) for her to be wearing these heels. I felt sorry for her because she looked so awkward trying to do her job properly.
Anyways, the flying part was so great. We werent able to see the Swiss alps because it was too cloudy but was still pretty great.
your franco
Tuesday, June 10
my age
I am going to tell you a story that is both embarrasing and funny. The story is too god not to tell even though I will be the one and only person who will be embarrased.
The other day, Jenn and I were getting our lunch in the cafeteria, as we had done every day before then and continued to do until we both stopped working there.
In the caf, Jenn is in their computer system but I am not. I think its because I arrived a bit later and no one bothered to put me into the system. It doesnt really matter though because our meals are free but I guess they do it just to keep track of how much we eat. Normally, they check what Jenn gets and put it in the system but they dont bother checking to see what I get to eat because they cant be bothered to put me into the system. they know that we are both language assistants. Its always the same lady working the cash and she and I just smile at each other and I go eat my fantastic lunch (which is the highlight of my day every day)
This particular day, the one that was really embarrasing, there was a different lady working the cash and apparently she was unaware of the "smile and i go eat my lunch" routine. Now, before I could explain anything, the lady working the cash told me that i was only allowed to take 3 items (they consider them desserts, but i consider them apple sauce, yogurt and fruit and not desserts) and I had taken 4.. (i was hungry and i dont get to eat again until 9pm and this is just awful in Mandy world) I explained that I was a language assistant and I didnt know about this rule.. and she asked me if i was in the system and i said "non" and then finally the normal cash lady came over and we smiled at each other and i went to eat my fantastic lunch.
that is not the embarrasing part.
We were explaining what had happended to another teacher and he had said that the younger students who are in grade 4-8 are only allowed to take 3 items. SO, it seems that this cash lady thought I was in grade 8. Im 25.
People normally think that I look younger than I am but not that young.. whenever I am out with my sisters, people usually think that at least 2 of them are older than me but really, im the oldest (and i may or may not be the shortest..)
I was so embarrased.
your franco, Mandy
The other day, Jenn and I were getting our lunch in the cafeteria, as we had done every day before then and continued to do until we both stopped working there.
In the caf, Jenn is in their computer system but I am not. I think its because I arrived a bit later and no one bothered to put me into the system. It doesnt really matter though because our meals are free but I guess they do it just to keep track of how much we eat. Normally, they check what Jenn gets and put it in the system but they dont bother checking to see what I get to eat because they cant be bothered to put me into the system. they know that we are both language assistants. Its always the same lady working the cash and she and I just smile at each other and I go eat my fantastic lunch (which is the highlight of my day every day)
This particular day, the one that was really embarrasing, there was a different lady working the cash and apparently she was unaware of the "smile and i go eat my lunch" routine. Now, before I could explain anything, the lady working the cash told me that i was only allowed to take 3 items (they consider them desserts, but i consider them apple sauce, yogurt and fruit and not desserts) and I had taken 4.. (i was hungry and i dont get to eat again until 9pm and this is just awful in Mandy world) I explained that I was a language assistant and I didnt know about this rule.. and she asked me if i was in the system and i said "non" and then finally the normal cash lady came over and we smiled at each other and i went to eat my fantastic lunch.
that is not the embarrasing part.
We were explaining what had happended to another teacher and he had said that the younger students who are in grade 4-8 are only allowed to take 3 items. SO, it seems that this cash lady thought I was in grade 8. Im 25.
People normally think that I look younger than I am but not that young.. whenever I am out with my sisters, people usually think that at least 2 of them are older than me but really, im the oldest (and i may or may not be the shortest..)
I was so embarrased.
your franco, Mandy
Monday, June 9
its my birthday
i know it is not my day to post but i give myself permission because its my birthday and i think its within my rights.
Happy Unbirthday (BONNE unANNIVERSAIRE) to the rest of you.
your francophone, Mandy
Happy Unbirthday (BONNE unANNIVERSAIRE) to the rest of you.
your francophone, Mandy
Sunday, June 8
THE french meal
On Saturday, I went to Salins-des-bains with an English teacher from the school that I work at and her husband. This town is about an hour away from Dijon and we were going to her friends place for lunch. I was looking forward to it because it was going to get me out of Dijon and i was not looking forward to it because eating a true French meal is extremely stressful. It is stressful for a number of reasons, all of which I will talk about in this post.
Stress #1 Meeting new French people in general
Whenever you meet a new French person, they always do a bisoux, which is a kiss on either cheek. You might be thinking that this cannot possibly be a very stressful situation. WRONG. First of all, as an Anglophone, bisoux are foreign to me. Also: having someone up in your grill takes some getting used to. Also: i have just come to realize that if you are female and you are giving a bisou to a male, you start on the left cheek. I learned this on Saturday. (im not sure what happens when a female gives a bisoux to a female.. i have yet to figure that one out) BUT: before Saturday, i had no idea that females were supposed to start on the left and im sure i have been doing it wrong and offended French people everywhere.
Stress #2 The apperatif
French people usually have an alcoholic drink before the meal. This is also stressful because you have to make sure you a) do not start drinking before anyone else (been there, done that, got the weird look) b) you drink JUST as fast but NOT faster than anyone else (you should keep your eye on the other females, do not go sip for sip with the males) and c) you do not finish your drink too early so that they offer you another one because normally the drinks are either 1° too strong or 2° not yummy.
Stress #3 Snacking before the meal
Along with the apperatif, French people also have little nibbly snack foods before the meal. Because i am normally famished by the time we eat (we eat dinner at 830 or 9 and by then ive already been hungry for about 3 hours..) i really have to watch myself because its rude if you snack TOO much or take TOO much food at one time.
Stress #4 The bread
During the actual meal when you are finally sitting down to eat, there is always bread available (which you have to take because all French people bread with every meal) The bread is not supposed to be put on your plate. You are supposed to put the bread on the table. This took me a good solid week to notice that during meals at my host familys house, I was the only one who put my bread on my plate.
Stress #5 The cutlery
You have to pay attention to the other guests to make sure you are using the same forks from the same spots at the same time as they are. Once you pick up the cutlery you aren’t supposed to put it on the table, you are supposed to put it on your plate.
Stress #6 The conversation
This is the most stressful because as a foreigner, you need to make sure you pay attention to everything that is said throughout the entire meal. You cannot tune anything out. When you are sitting at a table and people are speaking your first language, you can zone in and out on conversation but your mind is usually aware of what is being said and if asked a question, you can answer it easily because you were kind of but kind of not listening. This does not work the same way if you are working in a different language. You have to be 100% on your game 100% of the time. You cannot let anything go by that you do not understand because of course, as fate would have it, a French person will ask you a question about the one word that you did not understand and you will have to say uhhhhh, comment? ( uhhhh, What?) And have a blank look on your face like you weren’t paying attention. I have done this many a times and its not fun because then you look like someone who doesn’t care about what is being discussed.. So, I have gotten into the habit of never letting anything go by that I do not understand and this has worked very well because a) you no longer look like an idiot and b) you learn new vocabulary.
So, now you can see why these French dinners, while very nice, are also very stressful.
I got into the car at the end of the lunch (which took 2.5hrs) with a huge headache.
Your francophone, Mandy
Stress #1 Meeting new French people in general
Whenever you meet a new French person, they always do a bisoux, which is a kiss on either cheek. You might be thinking that this cannot possibly be a very stressful situation. WRONG. First of all, as an Anglophone, bisoux are foreign to me. Also: having someone up in your grill takes some getting used to. Also: i have just come to realize that if you are female and you are giving a bisou to a male, you start on the left cheek. I learned this on Saturday. (im not sure what happens when a female gives a bisoux to a female.. i have yet to figure that one out) BUT: before Saturday, i had no idea that females were supposed to start on the left and im sure i have been doing it wrong and offended French people everywhere.
Stress #2 The apperatif
French people usually have an alcoholic drink before the meal. This is also stressful because you have to make sure you a) do not start drinking before anyone else (been there, done that, got the weird look) b) you drink JUST as fast but NOT faster than anyone else (you should keep your eye on the other females, do not go sip for sip with the males) and c) you do not finish your drink too early so that they offer you another one because normally the drinks are either 1° too strong or 2° not yummy.
Stress #3 Snacking before the meal
Along with the apperatif, French people also have little nibbly snack foods before the meal. Because i am normally famished by the time we eat (we eat dinner at 830 or 9 and by then ive already been hungry for about 3 hours..) i really have to watch myself because its rude if you snack TOO much or take TOO much food at one time.
Stress #4 The bread
During the actual meal when you are finally sitting down to eat, there is always bread available (which you have to take because all French people bread with every meal) The bread is not supposed to be put on your plate. You are supposed to put the bread on the table. This took me a good solid week to notice that during meals at my host familys house, I was the only one who put my bread on my plate.
Stress #5 The cutlery
You have to pay attention to the other guests to make sure you are using the same forks from the same spots at the same time as they are. Once you pick up the cutlery you aren’t supposed to put it on the table, you are supposed to put it on your plate.
Stress #6 The conversation
This is the most stressful because as a foreigner, you need to make sure you pay attention to everything that is said throughout the entire meal. You cannot tune anything out. When you are sitting at a table and people are speaking your first language, you can zone in and out on conversation but your mind is usually aware of what is being said and if asked a question, you can answer it easily because you were kind of but kind of not listening. This does not work the same way if you are working in a different language. You have to be 100% on your game 100% of the time. You cannot let anything go by that you do not understand because of course, as fate would have it, a French person will ask you a question about the one word that you did not understand and you will have to say uhhhhh, comment? ( uhhhh, What?) And have a blank look on your face like you weren’t paying attention. I have done this many a times and its not fun because then you look like someone who doesn’t care about what is being discussed.. So, I have gotten into the habit of never letting anything go by that I do not understand and this has worked very well because a) you no longer look like an idiot and b) you learn new vocabulary.
So, now you can see why these French dinners, while very nice, are also very stressful.
I got into the car at the end of the lunch (which took 2.5hrs) with a huge headache.
Your francophone, Mandy
Saturday, June 7
Read
With Mands back writing on salutmaman I need to be more aware of the space I am using. Much like picking my socks up off the floor, which i rarely do anyways, I have had another look at the junk I've had in the column for the duration of my stay. I had a chat with myself the other day about this sort of thing and discovered, much to both our surprise, that it turned out to be a constructive conversation.
However, neither of us can remember what it was we said to myself so I cannot share with you what happened. Regardless, the book list has been moved to an undisclosed location that you can find on your own if you are motivated, knowledgeable on the location of my blogger profile or if, in the very unlikely case (which would trump any of the above circumstances), you care at all what I've read while being on the road.
what has happened, and something i am very excited about, is i've finally taken a bite out of my on deck reading list. I mentioned this a few days ago so i won't talk about it again. What did I miss, however, was the link to the young woman who traded me the book. She is writing her travel blog at letsgothere-italia. follow this link.
Used book shops are a new favourite place for me to browse through. I can hang out for hours, picking through the selection and people watching those people picking through the selection. The other day, however, I was in the shop on my way to work which I was likely late for, either that or just eager to sit and read over a coffee before getting to work, and I asked for a bit of help. I was looking for a particular author, Kundera, but couldn't find him because i didn't know his name; I only knew he had wrote Unbearable Lightness of Being.
I was holding a book by Alex Garland, author of The Beach which I had found quickly and quite by accident. But attendant Jane knew his name and where to find one and making a point to point out I "was really branching out with my authors." I smiled at her sarcasm while Dad's bit about sarcasm being the mer babbling of a diseased mind reverberated through mine.
"any suggestions?" I asked, knowing she would. Not just because she worked a book store but because she had read Lightness and thus I respected her opinion.
"have you read zen and the art of motorcycle maintenance?" I hadn't but vaguely remembered at some point having told Dad that he should read it. "i think we even have one."
They did. So I put down Garland's novel, "Kundera is a better writer; at least in my opinion," and since I respect that I now have three books on the go.
Oh woe is me.
I am going to go read.
However, neither of us can remember what it was we said to myself so I cannot share with you what happened. Regardless, the book list has been moved to an undisclosed location that you can find on your own if you are motivated, knowledgeable on the location of my blogger profile or if, in the very unlikely case (which would trump any of the above circumstances), you care at all what I've read while being on the road.
Used book shops are a new favourite place for me to browse through. I can hang out for hours, picking through the selection and people watching those people picking through the selection. The other day, however, I was in the shop on my way to work which I was likely late for, either that or just eager to sit and read over a coffee before getting to work, and I asked for a bit of help. I was looking for a particular author, Kundera, but couldn't find him because i didn't know his name; I only knew he had wrote Unbearable Lightness of Being.
I was holding a book by Alex Garland, author of The Beach which I had found quickly and quite by accident. But attendant Jane knew his name and where to find one and making a point to point out I "was really branching out with my authors." I smiled at her sarcasm while Dad's bit about sarcasm being the mer babbling of a diseased mind reverberated through mine.
"any suggestions?" I asked, knowing she would. Not just because she worked a book store but because she had read Lightness and thus I respected her opinion.
"have you read zen and the art of motorcycle maintenance?" I hadn't but vaguely remembered at some point having told Dad that he should read it. "i think we even have one."
They did. So I put down Garland's novel, "Kundera is a better writer; at least in my opinion," and since I respect that I now have three books on the go.
Oh woe is me.
I am going to go read.
Thursday, June 5
Murphy's Law
"i hate morphine” says alan
“you what?” says i
“i hate morphine” says alan again. “the man of the law. he always say the lane you are not in moves faster. Morphie is such a jerk for being right.”
“you what?” says i
“i hate morphine” says alan again. “the man of the law. he always say the lane you are not in moves faster. Morphie is such a jerk for being right.”
traffic was moving very slow as our trek back to Cork began early that morning. We were set to be in Dublin by noon, however the que for the motorway was out to prove our scheduling wrong. nevertheless we were kept occupied with discussions of the difficulties of learning new languages and being misunderstood when using words like fork, sheet and beach.
“i have to write this down”
“why? are you writing a book?”
“not that i know of. and i am just writing it down because i think it is funny. do you mind if i write it down?”
“i don't give two sheets. do what you like”
“i won't be able to write that down though.”
“sure you can. only do not tell your maman it was me.”
we got back into cork about half an hour late for my shift at the Shel (by the way i am back working at the Shel part time) which wasn't a problem. As Alan sped along the motorway I said there wasn't any sense in getting a ticket he wasn't going to pay because "it wasn't like i was late for a wedding or an exam, it was only work and work would be there regardless of how many cars we passed". The patrons had much to raz me for when i got there, but a few cleverly passed quips about cutting them off had them in stitches and moved the conversation quickly to an overview of my road trip and finnaly settle on the weather.
Wednesday, June 4
Moving...
Hello, I am also not really going to be funny today. I dont have anything funny to report. I just have news.
I am officially done teachers college which is very exciting. It has taken a bit of effort, but I am finally done.
I have also moved houses. I am now living with the principal of the school that I am teaching at. This is going well as I have a whole floor to myself. This living arrangement also allows me practice my french more because it is just her and I in the house so I have to actively participate in the conversation instead of just listening. Im staying in Dijon for another 10 days or so and then meeting up with Sean and travelling around Italy.
So thats about all I have to report. That and it has rainged every day since I got here and I'm getting very sick of it.
your francophone, Mandy
I am officially done teachers college which is very exciting. It has taken a bit of effort, but I am finally done.
I have also moved houses. I am now living with the principal of the school that I am teaching at. This is going well as I have a whole floor to myself. This living arrangement also allows me practice my french more because it is just her and I in the house so I have to actively participate in the conversation instead of just listening. Im staying in Dijon for another 10 days or so and then meeting up with Sean and travelling around Italy.
So thats about all I have to report. That and it has rainged every day since I got here and I'm getting very sick of it.
your francophone, Mandy
Tuesday, June 3
Dear Mandy
Thank you for correcting me. Again. As well, I know you are not in the banner but I do promise that I will change the photo as soon as my italian friend Alan (whom you will hear more about on Thursday) comes to my house and lets me use his photoshop. However, for that day to be successful I need you to send me some photo's that I can use. Otherwise I will use the one of you when you were six with those pink glasses on. you know, the ones you tricked your eye doctor into thinking you needed.
cheers,
--bbb
cheers,
--bbb
back in Co. Cork
“can i get a bottle of water please?”
so often i've set out to find internet connection and felt obligated to get a coffee. something seemed more right about having a coffee next to me while jotting out ideas.
but the bottle she hands me doesn't have enough in it to brush my teeth.
“do you have anything in extra-large?”
her confused look is quickly replaced with one of understanding. she hands me bigger one, but it comes with a cost. i could have bought a round of drinks for seven in Sicily for that price i think for a moment.
“you wouldn't happen to have wireless, would you?”
“no, not here. but you can try to steel from next door, it sometimes works. the password is vibes.”
the long and the short of my life currently is that i am, despite what the banner might advertise, back in Cork. I am back at work at the Shel and I am back in my bed. I am back to staying up until six in the morning and back to getting up at noon. I am back, and I am ready to move again.
As luck would have it I have a week in Sweden booked from the 10th to the 17th. And, as Mandy said before, in France sometime in July. In a few moments I am meeting with a friend for another lesson in Swedish, she finishes work in ... now and today I am going to learn the answer to Hur Mon Dur ... which means, how are you.
I hope you are all ready for the upcoming swedish lessons.
Reading update: I traded On The Road for The Kite Runner which I have since traded for Anne Frank. A very special thank you to whom ever told me to read Kite Runner, I enjoyed it and read it very quickly; not to mention thank you to the lovely young woman you made the trade with me. You can read more about her by clicking here to get to her travel blog.
I apologize for not being funny today, i hope to make up for it soon.
(the internet decided not to work and my swedish lesson decided to be postponed)
ciao,
--bbb
so often i've set out to find internet connection and felt obligated to get a coffee. something seemed more right about having a coffee next to me while jotting out ideas.
but the bottle she hands me doesn't have enough in it to brush my teeth.
“do you have anything in extra-large?”
her confused look is quickly replaced with one of understanding. she hands me bigger one, but it comes with a cost. i could have bought a round of drinks for seven in Sicily for that price i think for a moment.
“you wouldn't happen to have wireless, would you?”
“no, not here. but you can try to steel from next door, it sometimes works. the password is vibes.”
the long and the short of my life currently is that i am, despite what the banner might advertise, back in Cork. I am back at work at the Shel and I am back in my bed. I am back to staying up until six in the morning and back to getting up at noon. I am back, and I am ready to move again.
As luck would have it I have a week in Sweden booked from the 10th to the 17th. And, as Mandy said before, in France sometime in July. In a few moments I am meeting with a friend for another lesson in Swedish, she finishes work in ... now and today I am going to learn the answer to Hur Mon Dur ... which means, how are you.
I hope you are all ready for the upcoming swedish lessons.
Reading update: I traded On The Road for The Kite Runner which I have since traded for Anne Frank. A very special thank you to whom ever told me to read Kite Runner, I enjoyed it and read it very quickly; not to mention thank you to the lovely young woman you made the trade with me. You can read more about her by clicking here to get to her travel blog.
I apologize for not being funny today, i hope to make up for it soon.
(the internet decided not to work and my swedish lesson decided to be postponed)
ciao,
--bbb
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