Dear Reader,
They say that home is where the heart is. If that is true, then I left my heart in St. Laurent du-Var. Tears rolled down my cheeks as I bade farewell to the small town I had grown to love so much. Even though I had four days in Paris ahead of me, I couldn't fathom dinners without Lucie (my adorable host sister), walks without my new friends from St. Laurent who weren't venturing to Paris, or days without going to the rocky beach. Saying goodbye to all those things was a nightmare. It is strange when your nightmare is that the dream is simply coming to an end.
At the beginning of the trip, I made a few goals for myself. They included accidentally writing a blog post in French, reading a newspaper article in French understanding every word, and considering myself to be borderline conversational/fluent. After a few days in France, it became easier to transition between English and French so I never wrote an entire blog in French. But when speaking to friends, I often typed in "Franglish" throwing in a few words in French here or there. Also, when I first arrived in the US, I kept accidentally talking to people in French. "Oh right. We're in America now. English", I constantly had to remind myself. I had the opportunity to read several newspaper articles while in France. Though I never could understand every word, I understood the overall idea. It was fun getting to keep up with the same world I had always lived in, but in a different language. I would consider myself to be very conversational in French, but I still have a long way to go before I'm fluent. Looking back on my French speaking skills prior to the trip, I was hardly conversational. I could read and write well but I had never spoken French aloud. It was so rewarding the other day listening to my favorite Edith Piaf songs and understanding what the famous French singer was saying.
Returning to my house in America was strange. I wasn't used to all the space and I realized that people really don't need that much space. How amazing it is to have air conditioning all the time, to be able to dry your clothes quickly in a machine, and to be able to drive everywhere... unnecessary, I now realize, but luxuries.
I expected to be homesick when in St. Laurent du-Var. I never expected to be homesick once returning to Kansas City. I want desperately to be back in France with my friends and host family. If I was crying when I left St. Laurent, you would expect for me to bawl when leaving Paris. Yes, I was sad. But looking out that airplane window, I knew it wasn't goodbye for long. "Au Revoir, France. Mais pas à jamais", I said under my breath.
Avec toute mon affection,
Elizabeth
C'est la Fin
Dear Reader,
Today was my last day in St. Laurent du Var. Those were the shortest 4 weeks of my life. Saying goodbye to many of my group members for the last time was sad but I was soon cheered up by my host family when we exchanged gifts. The two oldest siblings weren't here to open their presents but Lucie went on and on about her HelloKitty watch. She had never heard of jacks so I taught her how to play and I ended up playing jacks with her for 2 hours... 2 whole hours... Corrine (my host mom) loved the Kansas City BBQ spices but was really confused when she saw the BBQ sause. I'm still not quite sure why. My French family gave me lavender pouches with a lavender colored teddy bear, a book written in French with the English translation on the neighboring page, and French chocolates (which I do not plan on sharing with anyone, in case you were wondering). Grace, my roommate, gave me a necklace with a hand carved glass dog on it. Why? Because I was supposedly born in the year of the dog (which explains a lot in terms of my unusual obsession with dogs). Though the French customs are slightly different than American ones, it brings me comfort to know that dogs are the same in both countries: when I go after them with my arms extended for a hug, both French and American dogs run away.
Naturally, being me, I have an embarrassing story. Stating the obvious: I am clumsy. I constantly drop things, trip over my own feet, and get injured in the lamest ways. I had SO MANY clumsy moments during my time with my host family that I actually had to look up the word for clumsy in French so I could explain to the family why their bowl was broken, why I randomly fell from time to time, and why I am so bad at walking down the stairs. This last week, whenever I had a clumsy moment, I wouldn't even have to say anything. My host parents would simply to at each other, look at me, and in unison say "clumsy" in French.
I am looking forward to Paris tomorrow and will write again whenever I can. Caio Caio!
-Elizabeth
Today was my last day in St. Laurent du Var. Those were the shortest 4 weeks of my life. Saying goodbye to many of my group members for the last time was sad but I was soon cheered up by my host family when we exchanged gifts. The two oldest siblings weren't here to open their presents but Lucie went on and on about her HelloKitty watch. She had never heard of jacks so I taught her how to play and I ended up playing jacks with her for 2 hours... 2 whole hours... Corrine (my host mom) loved the Kansas City BBQ spices but was really confused when she saw the BBQ sause. I'm still not quite sure why. My French family gave me lavender pouches with a lavender colored teddy bear, a book written in French with the English translation on the neighboring page, and French chocolates (which I do not plan on sharing with anyone, in case you were wondering). Grace, my roommate, gave me a necklace with a hand carved glass dog on it. Why? Because I was supposedly born in the year of the dog (which explains a lot in terms of my unusual obsession with dogs). Though the French customs are slightly different than American ones, it brings me comfort to know that dogs are the same in both countries: when I go after them with my arms extended for a hug, both French and American dogs run away.
Naturally, being me, I have an embarrassing story. Stating the obvious: I am clumsy. I constantly drop things, trip over my own feet, and get injured in the lamest ways. I had SO MANY clumsy moments during my time with my host family that I actually had to look up the word for clumsy in French so I could explain to the family why their bowl was broken, why I randomly fell from time to time, and why I am so bad at walking down the stairs. This last week, whenever I had a clumsy moment, I wouldn't even have to say anything. My host parents would simply to at each other, look at me, and in unison say "clumsy" in French.
I am looking forward to Paris tomorrow and will write again whenever I can. Caio Caio!
-Elizabeth
Entering the Last Week in St. Laurent
Dear Reader,
How many people go cliff jumping and parasailing within a week?! Today, I had a blast flying high above the French sea as I parasailed for the first time. A few hours later, the group went to Nice, France with the option of Salsa dancing or spending time in the city. I wasn't in the mood to dance so I went off to my favorite cliff in Nice. I just sat at the edge, 25 feet above the waves crashing into the rocks below and watched the light from the lighthouse rotate around and around off in the distance. Yet again, I felt like I was living a fairytale. It was so relaxing and just what I needed after a long, busy day.
This upcoming Saturday, I leave St. Laurent for Paris. Not many people from my group are going. Everyone is just sad, awaiting the day when we will have to say goodbye. I am thankful for the opportunity to spend a few more days in France but I will miss my friends.
Aside from that, not much more is going on. I will write more in the next couple of days whenever I have the opportunity.
Ciao ciao!
-Elizabeth
How many people go cliff jumping and parasailing within a week?! Today, I had a blast flying high above the French sea as I parasailed for the first time. A few hours later, the group went to Nice, France with the option of Salsa dancing or spending time in the city. I wasn't in the mood to dance so I went off to my favorite cliff in Nice. I just sat at the edge, 25 feet above the waves crashing into the rocks below and watched the light from the lighthouse rotate around and around off in the distance. Yet again, I felt like I was living a fairytale. It was so relaxing and just what I needed after a long, busy day.
This upcoming Saturday, I leave St. Laurent for Paris. Not many people from my group are going. Everyone is just sad, awaiting the day when we will have to say goodbye. I am thankful for the opportunity to spend a few more days in France but I will miss my friends.
Aside from that, not much more is going on. I will write more in the next couple of days whenever I have the opportunity.
Ciao ciao!
-Elizabeth
Random Information
Dear Reader,
I have a story. I meant to blog about it weeks ago but kept forgetting to do so. When I first met up with my group from Abbey Road in the JFK airport, I suddenly became paranoid about the word "bubble". Yes, it is a random word. But for some reason, I NEEDED to know how to say it in French. It wasn't long before I learned that "les bulles" = "the bubbles". During my time in France, I swear I have never had to use the word bubble so much in my entire life! From the moment I boarded the airplane, my entertainment screen had a picture of a woman blowing bubbles. The next day, as I walked along the beach with my friend, Meredith, a little girl was blowing bubbles and Meredith insisted on popping them before the little girl could. A few times when my host mom cooked dinner, the pot of water on the stove began to bubble over and I had to run tell her. I can never remember the French name for sparkling water so I order the "water with bubbles". Is it a coincidence that I've had to use this word so often? Perhaps I am simply more aware of it. Anyway, I know this story was random and rambling but I thought it was worth sharing. Hope you enjoyed!
-Elizabeth
I have a story. I meant to blog about it weeks ago but kept forgetting to do so. When I first met up with my group from Abbey Road in the JFK airport, I suddenly became paranoid about the word "bubble". Yes, it is a random word. But for some reason, I NEEDED to know how to say it in French. It wasn't long before I learned that "les bulles" = "the bubbles". During my time in France, I swear I have never had to use the word bubble so much in my entire life! From the moment I boarded the airplane, my entertainment screen had a picture of a woman blowing bubbles. The next day, as I walked along the beach with my friend, Meredith, a little girl was blowing bubbles and Meredith insisted on popping them before the little girl could. A few times when my host mom cooked dinner, the pot of water on the stove began to bubble over and I had to run tell her. I can never remember the French name for sparkling water so I order the "water with bubbles". Is it a coincidence that I've had to use this word so often? Perhaps I am simply more aware of it. Anyway, I know this story was random and rambling but I thought it was worth sharing. Hope you enjoyed!
-Elizabeth
Semain III
Dear Reader,
I would like to give a shout out to my sister Kiersten Schorgl who reads my blog and really wanted a shout out. Love you Kier!
This week has been amazing thus far. On Tuesday, it was pouring all day long. After class, a few of my friends and I were walking home in the rain. The other three girls splashed through the puddles belting out to the song "Yellow Submarine". But I walked ahead humming to "Singing in the Rain" which I found more fit for the circumstances. Here is the picture I snapped of the girls during that walk. Yes, we were all soaking wet... but it was worth it!
Today was one of the best days of the trip yet. I am exhausted so I won't go into too much detail but the video above will explain just about everything.
Ciao Ciao!
-Elizabeth
Semain II
Dear Reader,
I have had a really fun week here in France and look forward to 3 more weeks of this great experience. Yesterday, was a particularly good day: I saw the last Harry Potter movie. IT WAS AMAZING!!! At the end when the music played, I got chills. Seriously, this movie blew my mind out. The French subtitles were rather nice. If I didn't catch what a character said, I could just read it in French. Also, I learned a lot of French words/sayings (i.e. Of course not, Forever, Avada Kadavra etc.). Speaking of, did you know that in French, "baguette" can also mean wand? Now I can't help but picture Harry casting the killing spell with a long loaf of French bread.
On the way home from Harry Potter, a French guy sat next to me on the train. I had a whole conversation with him in French. I asked him how the French can tell when someone is a tourist. According to him, most Americans have an accent and pale skin. He said I spoke French well, dressed like the locals, but was too pale. Success: I blend in okay with the French. Failure: a cute French boy dissed the ivory skin that I was so proud of and worked hard for, thinking that it was the French look. And to answer your question, no; this does not mean I am going to intentionally get tan now.
I will try to add pictures later today but for now, Au Revoir!
-Elizabeth
I have had a really fun week here in France and look forward to 3 more weeks of this great experience. Yesterday, was a particularly good day: I saw the last Harry Potter movie. IT WAS AMAZING!!! At the end when the music played, I got chills. Seriously, this movie blew my mind out. The French subtitles were rather nice. If I didn't catch what a character said, I could just read it in French. Also, I learned a lot of French words/sayings (i.e. Of course not, Forever, Avada Kadavra etc.). Speaking of, did you know that in French, "baguette" can also mean wand? Now I can't help but picture Harry casting the killing spell with a long loaf of French bread.
On the way home from Harry Potter, a French guy sat next to me on the train. I had a whole conversation with him in French. I asked him how the French can tell when someone is a tourist. According to him, most Americans have an accent and pale skin. He said I spoke French well, dressed like the locals, but was too pale. Success: I blend in okay with the French. Failure: a cute French boy dissed the ivory skin that I was so proud of and worked hard for, thinking that it was the French look. And to answer your question, no; this does not mean I am going to intentionally get tan now.
I will try to add pictures later today but for now, Au Revoir!
-Elizabeth
Week 1 Pictures
One of my favorite pieces from The Museum of Modern and Contempory Art in Nice.
My ADORABLE host family sister, Lucie. That night, she put clips all around her hat and put on a fashion show for the family.
Two of my fellow group members, Meredith and Hannah, enjoying the beach.
My roommate (Grace) and me.
The charming view from my classroom window.
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