Fish #2

My first real day in Florida I (unknowingly) grabbed a large hunk of fire sponge and emerged from the depths with my prize proudly squeezed between my fingers. Oops.

I still don’t know how I feel about this whole fishing thing. I mean, yeah, it is exciting to catch something, reel it in, and then eat it for dinner. I know it’s just a fish. I’m not even a vegetarian. I participated in the activity, catching and filleting my first fish, a lane snapper. But I still can’t get over how bad it makes me feel.

A group of guys returned from an afternoon fishing trip with a three-foot female bonnethead shark. Out of curiosity, I stuck around to watch the fish get filleted. Eight dead and tiny shark babies were laid on the sunbleached wooden table. The stripped meat twitched in the bucket long after the shark was dead.

A manatee visited our dock the same day as the shark was caught. He stuck around for 45 minutes while we served him fresh water through the hose and fed him clumps of lettuce. He rolled over onto his back and showed us his fingernails. We named him Mannie.

I spotted Mannie’s nose poking out of the water the next afternoon from the balcony of the bio station. I got everybody all riled up and we ran down to the dock together, lettuce in hand. I hadn’t been wearing my glasses. It was not a nose. It was a floating coconut.

I found a type of green algae at the research site that no one in the 47-year history of the Goshen College Marine Laboratory has found. It is called Boodleopsis pusilla.

Carly went to Sixmilebridge, Ireland, and I crossed the Seven Mile Bridge to get to Key West. Instead of shopping for souveniers or getting trashed on overpriced, sugary margaritas, Sam took Lynzy and me “Geocaching” with him. It was awesome. We found the southernmost point in the continental U.S., spent 20 min in a bar trying to contact someone near a computer to take a screengrab of us on a specific webcam, ate a half-pound chocolate chip and pecan cookie, and chased wild chickens. It was an amazing way to experience the city.

Over the course of this trip, we have spent more than three hours inside “Worldwide Sportsman,” a giant saltwater version of a Bass Pro shop. If I were at all interested in either fishing or spending lots of money on fishing supplies, this would be a fantastic place to spend time. It does have a redeeming factor: “‘Pilar,’ the famous sister ship to Hemingway’s boat” resides inside the store and, consequently, there happens to be a lot of Hemingway literature for sale. By now I think I’ve read almost all of his short stories sitting in front of Worldwide Sportsman’s crinkling cellophane fireplace.

I’m too scared to be a real adult.

Maggie

Fish

I am also breaking the posting in pairs guideline simply because this is long enough for three, and Maggie is busy gathering fish tales in Florida to add to the next one....










Poisson d’avril !
April’s Fish!

French lesson:
Etiquette- label
Politesse- etiquette
Déception- disappointment
Tromperie- deception
Talkie-walkie- walkie-talkie

The following are the same word in French:
To tempt= to attempt
Fad= obstruction
Silver= money
Lawyer= advocate= avocado (my favorite)

French idioms and expressions:
She’s a pot of paint- she wears too much makeup
A sighing quarter- a sixteenth note rest
It’s raining cords- it’s raining cats and dogs
It’s a duck- it’s really cold out
I pass the sponge- excuse me/ I am sorry
250 of our era- 250 AD
He posed a sheep- he stood me up
His head is in the moon- His head is in the clouds
Bust support- bra
Apples of the earth- potatoes
Apples of the pine- pinecones
Apples- carrots (just kidding!)
Moving sand- sinking sand
I have the beetle- I am depressed
I have frogs in my stomach- my tummy is growling
My liver hurts- I have an upset stomach*
The century of lights- The Enlightenment
Make a hundred steps- pace the floor
Window licking- window shopping
Cat in my throat- frog in my throat
I have 65 spring(time)s- I am 65 years old
Medusa- jellyfish
Iron straw- steel wool
A brings-speech- speaker
Chicken nest- pot hole
Little lunch- breakfast
*according to my professor, the French have the unique ability to determine exactly which organ in their body is in pain. “Pain of the liver is a very distinct feeling…”

French we use:
Aller-haup (pronounced allay-up)- the French equivalent of upsi-daisy
Déjà vu- already seen
Adieu- at God (goodbye for good)
Hors d’oeuvre- outside of work
Bon bon­- good good
À la mode- in the fashion
Faux pas- false step*
Mousse- moss (I never knew either…)
Brassière- sleeved shirt for infants; shoulder strap
* If you want to say “watch your step” in French: avoid any faux pas

The definition of the passive voice: a tense used to hide information, in the case of the ignorance of information or to insist on certain information. Principally used by journalists, police, politicians and diplomats.

France has a Minister of Equality of Chance.

How to say “cotton candy” across the world :
France- Papa’s beard
Korea- spider web
Saudi Arabia- girl’s hair

April Fool’s Day in France is celebrated with the sole prank of taping a paper fish to someone’s back, and upon them noticing, shouting “April’s Fish!” and swapping fish-shaped chocolates.
The Easter Bunny doesn’t exist, rather the church bells bring eggs to all the children. They brought me a fresh bouquet of my favorite flowers (Nicole told me it was the Easter bells, but I suspect she picked them from her garden).
I had to write two papers for civilization and art history classes on the topics of Bohemian Montmartre, and Édouard Manet’s Olympia, a controversial painting that changed the idea of the nude in art and took realism to the extreme. Fun facts: Bohemians were named such as it was believed that all nomadic workers came from the city of Bohemia in what is now Czech Republic. Demimondes (literally “half-world”) were fashionable femmes de la nuit who were in between the two worlds of upper class society and prostitution. Between the two papers, I can now say prostitute in French at least five different ways.
A few months ago I couldn’t make scrambled eggs, and now I am swapping recipes with a French cook (…Nicole wants a recipe I found online)…we cultural foods day at school. I made apple pie with ice cream.
Nicole and Claude have been taking me to Claude’s house in Loches on the weekends. The first trip there I listened to records on Claude’s 1904 phonograph, saw some sights and got really car sick. Half the way there they argued about directions. I saw Claude’s cave, man-made by the removal of stone for the construction of local cathedrals and chateaus, and converted by Claude into a cozy hang-out. Last time we went flea marketing (or empty attics, as they call them) and Claude bought me nearly a dozen old records for my phonograph. We checked out a fossil museum, met the children of the inventor of the xylophone, saw glass blowing in action, had a traditional French meal, were chased by a bike race and stopped to take pictures of the fields of yellow flowers that speckle the French countryside in springtime. The next day we all went to a phonograph museum (the phonograph was actually invented by a French man named Charles, but sadly he was too poor to carry out his design so Edison beat him to it) and had wine with the owner and his wife, who has a generous frog collection.
I have been mistaken at least five times for being British when I speak French. A French gentleman asked me if I was Polish, and upon asking how he knew he said he could tell by my accent.

Spring Break:
Paris-


Remember the "Trtl" incident in Detroit in 2004? In the same vein of thought, these guys have mysteriously been showing up all over Paris. Only Parisians would make graffiti out of mosaics...
I saw the Calder exhibit at the inside-out Centre Pompidou (the frame of the building was built on the exterior, escalators and all) at night and overlooked the city from the rooftop.
Visited the infamous Montmartre with Liz (an American who lived in Korea for three years helping bring the 2010 Worlds Fair to Seoul) where we saw the Sacre Coeur, Lapin Agile (café frequented by Van Gogh, Lautrec and Picasso, who traded his sketches for food. The story goes the owner, André Gill, used to invite all his bohemian friends to “beef parties”, at one of which he drunkenly painted a rabbit in a pot as a form of entertainment for his guests. The café thus became Lapin à Gill, or “Gill’s Rabbit”, which cleverly morphed into Lapin Agile, or “Agile Rabbit”. The rabbit in the painting comes from a medieval fairy tale of a rabbit who played the fiddle whose sweet music made people forget who they were, in order that he could cause all sorts of mischief.), a hilltop musée and enjoyed a lunch of hot mulled wine, French onion soup and escargots.
From here I departed to visit the Père Lachaise cemetery, at Prof Bushey’s recommendation, followed by an underground catacomb which buried its dead in a surprising manor (a twenty-minute walk through tunnels of bones and skulls stacked, often in decorative patterns, from floor to ceiling. The cemetery was originally above ground, but when an epidemic broke out in that quarter of Paris several hundred years ago originating from the cemetery, the catacomb was quickly constructed. At the end of the tour was a table of skulls, next to which stood a security guard who checked backpacks…
Stopped at a flea/ farmer’s market where I tried red currents for the first time and was stopped by a merchant who informed me that the fruit is used only to top confections and cakes, and by eating an entire package I would promptly gain weight (“No marriage for you.”).
Krakow, Poland-
My hostel was located just outside the old town square, where I saw St. Mary’s church and the Cloth Hall. Took a walk to the old Jewish town and had a lunch of matzo ball soup and Passover cheese, a sweet cheese mixed with raisins and topped with whipped cream. Crossed the Vistula River, bought traditional Polish shoes at a flea market, had “Polish breakfast” (eggs, vegetables, Polish sausages, mustard, cheese, mini loaf of bread, tea) at an original Art Nouveau café, saw the National and the Japanese Art museums, attended Polish mass in the Paulite church (I think?), saw a Chopin concert, made friends with a homeless woman who asked me if I was pregnant at the Franciscan church, climbed the hill topped by Wawel Castle, took a four hour train ride to the Zakopane Mountains only upon arriving to cross the platform and take the train back (due to a communication issue at the train station) and ate long bean pierogi, beetroot borscht soup, potato pancakes with sweet cream (which is actually liquid sour cream), Herring with sour cream (which is actually cole slaw), meatpie and drank blank currant juice and five different types of vodka, including honey and caramel flavors.
Warsaw, Poland-
Saw Wilanowski Palace which contained a room that was still used by the communist government up until the twenty-first century to host dignitaries such as Charles de Gaule, who was so tall that they had to extend the original palace bed. It also hosted original Baroque frescos and sculptures, ancient Greek pottery, Roman sarcophagi, paintings by David and Rembrandt and a room fabled for the event of a dinner between a Polish king and a Bishop, during which the king incessantly questioned the bishop in which part of the body the soul was held. Outside the castle I was stopped by a professor of Polish language and history who talked for an hour about the history of the castle and surrounding buildings in a mixture of Polish, Latin, Italian, broken English, and gestures. I also saw a poster museum and the National Museum where hung a collection of paintings of the ultimate Jesus fanatic, Saint Catherine of Siena. Her story: Besieged by Demons, Drinking from the Side Wound of Jesus, The Miraculous Communion and Exchanging Hearts with Jesus. Ouch. I drank bread acid and ate peirogie with groats, sweet peirogie with black currant and cheese, a pastry with-surprise!- an entire pear inside, and goose with beet root. Then the Royal Palace, Art Café, a hole-in-the wall vintage shop, a Haydn concert and a Beethoven concert in the Palace.
Budapest, Hungary-
Strolled down antique street, saw the 100-person Gypsy orchestra (Hungarian performances are peculiar- after each song, the audience claps, the entire orchestra takes bows, including the soloists one at a time, the audience continues clapping, slowly starting in unison and picking up the pace until the orchestra begins playing again), checked out the Hungarian flea market (even better than the Polish! Hand embroidery, vintage clothes, Iranian antiques, Hungarian fair food, all for pocket change. I got physically pushed out of a booth for offering what was apparently an offensively low price for a Hungarian rug….1000 forint seems like it would be a lot…), saw Blackrider, a musical performed in Hungarian, sung and English and subtitled across the curtain featuring music written by Tom Waits, climbed a cliff that overlooked the city, bathed at an original the Turkish bath dating back to 1565, Király, with natural hot springs, attended a Hungarian folk dancing festival, explored the Pálvőlgy Cave formed by natural hot springs (lamer than it sounds- the tour guide spent the entire 20 minute tour pointing his flashlight at each stalagmite saying “This one looks like an elephant. This one looks like the seven dwarfs. This one is a crocodile…”), tried Slovakian noodles with ewe cheese, carp fish soup (a pepper based red soup with a slab of fish floating in it) and wild boar roasted in red wine sauce, and went broke (due to overwhelming flea market) and had to replace a few meals with pastries and corn-on-the-cob sold by street vendors. I also ran out of laundry and had to wear an ensemble of a turn-of-the-century reproduction dress, traditional Polish shoes and 1970’s vintage scarf. The only way I could leave the hostel was by telling myself that people might think it is some kind of foreign high fashion.

A new Saudi Arabian student will be living with me and Nicole this trimester. Her name is Munira. She’s into photography and is in France to finish her studies in law to be one of the first female lawyers upon her return to Saudi Arabia. She is teaching me and Nicole how to speak Arabic, as well as how to wrap my head in the Palestinian fashion.

Easter Sunday was spent in Chartres with my Belgian friend, Annelie. Due do the lack of vocabulary for bus stop, we mistook our bus for a train and missed it. The cathedral was full of pop-singing nuns, neon light projections and women dressed up as priests. We climbed the church tower (discovering midway Annelie has vertigo) and took the pTGV (“petite TGV train”) on a tour around town. We had coffee at an outdoor café with a view of the cathedral, and ate “baby Jesus’ ”.

In another vocabulary blunder, I accidentally ate a rabbit tart.

I recently went to Potiers with some friends to visit our Canadian-American friend David (pronounced Da-vEEd in France), who currently lives at a chateau. He gave us a tour of the grounds, we prepared lunch together in the kitchen and ate and drank in the garden. His friends, who are out of town, own the chateau and rent it out at 10 000€ a month. He is watching their cat.

French Labor Day was spent in Sixmilebridge, Ireland near Shannon. An intense televised Guitar Hero battle was the talk of the town. I saw Bunratty Castle, Limerick and the Cliffs of Moher, shared a taxi with a French couple, got lost in rural Ireland on a bank holiday, got a ride to the middle of nowhere from some foreign women and was finally taken to the airport by Seamus Walsh. I tasted Guinness and Ginger Root beer and sheep’s cheese. In France, people exchange Muget flowers for Labor Day.

Last weekend Nicole and Claude took me on a “surprise” adventure to an antique shop/ café combination and a cave-farm from the Middle Ages with Munira, who made a video of the event. I also caught the Joan of Arc parade at Orléans and the fair at Tours with friends.

I am proud to announce that my mother was the first in her interior design class to receive a 100% on her final design project, consisting of presentation board and three-dimensional model, from her professor of seven years.

The Ten and Six EP is out, check it out here. Chouette!

Désolée francophones….vraiment trop long pour écrire. Mais, je serais contente de vous raconter mes aventures moi-même. Et, si vous aimez la musique, vous aimerez beaucoup ça. Chouette !

Carly

Awesome

This may not technically be a post in pairs, but it is Maggie posting something by Carly. That sort of works.

Caramel Cinnamon and Ham Monsters

Ingredients for Something Nice
- 5 mins digging my glasses out from between Heidi's couch cushions where I put them "to be safe" the night before.
-1.5 hours coloring doughnuts in a coloring book with Heidi and Econ.
- 1 hour craving real doughnuts with Heidi and Econ.
- 1 trip to Kroger with Heidi, Econ and Chase purchasing "9 Caramel Iced Jumbo Cinnamon Rolls," one bottle of cheap champagne, and a case of Labatt Blue.
- 1 viewing of Broken Flowers starring Bill Murry and featuring a nude scene with that one girl from the Lifetime movie She's Too Young.

I went to the St. Patrick's Day parade in Chicago over break and we saw a balloon that looked like a....um...giant mushroom.

My senior show is a week from Sunday.

Maggie

La princesse de Thaïland
& Parisian adventures with Sun Jung

I am back home (as close as I can get in France). Nicole returned from her Thai-Australian adventure with interesting stories and bizarre gifts. I was handed over from a cold hotel whose dame found me impolite, to a greeting of “my daughter!” and a warm hug.
Our house is filled with baby plants in bottles, strange dried fruits used to make tea and Thai biscuits filled with mayonnaise and topped with a moss-like substance.
Nicole told me that Thailand is very detail oriented. They make a dessert made of coco milk and minuscule beads of baked flour that are individually rolled by hand and died with flower petals. All the children learn wood-carving and cultivating in school. Young girls make intricate embroideries.
Nicole told me she stayed with friends. Then she showed me photos of her official dinner with the royal family. Turns out Nicole is good friends with the daughter of the King of Thailand. The princess had come to France on business and stayed with Nicole later inviting her to come visit in Thailand.
I saw the « Zoo Parc Beauval », who advertised forty species of wild cats, including baby white tigers. In reality there were roughly four species, and one younger tiger that was only slightly smaller than the other adults.
A week’s adventures:
Saturday I took a four hour bus ride to Mount St. Michel, a vertical village topped with a cathedral, built over the course of a thousand years and situated on a large rock formation surrounded by sinking sand (people have died). Even more, the tide comes in at night, making the hilltop village into an island…perfect hideout during World War II. It was also declared one of the seven wonders. The bus had to stop for a flock of sheep to cross the road. Afterwards I climbed the walls of the fortified St. Malo, a small cobblestone village that was a port for corsaires (goverment-protected pirates), and overlooked the sea.
Sunday morning, I slept in, got on my bike, and met Sun Jung at the train station, where we departed to spend free museum Sunday at the Musee D’Orsay in Paris. I was six inches away from Monet’s four renditions of the Rouen Cathedral.
Monday I had coffee with an older German-Canadian gentlemen who recounted his Social Democrat political activist past in Montreal. After karate class, I went to the Palace Café for their night of “Café of Languages”, where I spoke French with a Swede, a French, a Spaniard and a Romanian.
Tuesday Nicole hosted a crepe party for my friends and I, where she had us make our own “contemporary art”. I made a cat and a snake, Nicole made a flower, a Volkswagen Beetle and a baby, and Sun made a fish.
Wednesday I ditched class and rode my bike again to the train station at 6am in the rain to meet Sun Jung a final time in Paris, from where we departed to see Chateau Fontainebleau, which included a dungeon from the Middle Ages, Napoleon’s office with hide-away bathroom/ library and a fold down desk used to safely tuck away work from curious eyes, rooms decorated by Marie-Antoinette, a grand ballroom built by Henry II which blocked the windows of the chapel (priorities?) and was decorated with the symbol of arguably either his wife or his favorite mistress (conveniently they had the same initial), secret drawers for Princess’ belongings, the symbol of Francois I (salamander), intricate ceilings and a special chair that kept the cold out on one side, and let the warmth from the fireplace in on the other. After that we found an old paper shop in an alley in Paris, stopped to use the restroom at Notre Dame, walked through the square at the Louvre, strolled past the Centre Pompidou and took a brief look inside, and ate Japanese Lanten for dinner. She told me about her roommate in Paris, one of very few remaining who have the occupation to rebind old books, gold-leafing and all. She explained that old books have rough page edges because they were cut by hand, save for the vulnerable top of the pages, where most books have a thin layer of painted gold, useful for keeping bugs and dust out of the books when they are shelved. Sadly Sun Jung departed for Korea, but we plan to visit each other someday when I open my combination store and patisserie, and she opens her three-story French café, antique shop and book store.
Thursday Nicole and Claude had their Polish friends over for a dinner that started at 7:30 pm and ended well after midnight. We ate sushi, Thai appetizers, couscous with 3 different meats, French cheese, and a polish cake topped with rum and served with English cream. I learned that my original family name, Gościńskí, means “host”, and that the Polish birthday song my family still sings translates “I wish you live to see a hundred”. Because I am Polish, they insisted I could handle an assortment of wines and champagnes over the course of an evening which directly followed my wine tasting class.
Friday I went with Nicole to pick up a group of teenage Sicilians from the bus station, who promptly asked me the smoking age in France, if there are any pubs in town, and invited me to dine with them at MacDonald’s.
I found something even better than Little Ghosts….Monsters! Also available in ketchup or ham and cheese flavors.
The French word pouce means both “thumb” and “big toe”.

Je suis encore chez moi (assez proche que je peut être en France). Nicole est revenu de son aventure thaïlandaise-australienne avec des histoires intéressantes et des cadeaux uniques. J’ai été échangée d’un hôtel froid lequel sa dame m’a trouvé impoli, à un salut de « ma fille ! » et une étreinte chaleureuse.
Chez nous est plein de bébés plantes dans des bouteilles, des fruits secs bizarres utilisés pour faire du thé et les biscuits thaïlandais avec de la mayonnaise dedans et une substance comme la mousse au-dessous. Nicole m’a dit que Thaïlande est très concerné par le détail. On fait un dessert de lait de noix de coco et de minuscules grains de farine qui sont chaque font à la main et colorés par les pétales de fleur. Tout les enfants apprennent sculpture à bois et cultiver à l’école. Jeunes filles font des broderies complexes.
Nicole m’a dit qu’elle a rendu visite des amis. Puis, elle m’a montré des photos de son dîner official avec la famille royale. J’ai appris qu’elle est proche avec la fille du roi de Thaïlande. La princesse était venue en France pour les affaires et elle est restée avec Nicole et lui a invité de rendre visite en Thaïlande.
J’ai vu le « Zoo Parc Beauval », qui a fait la publicité de quarante espèces des chats sauvages y compris des bébés tigres blancs. En réalité il y avait plus ou moins quatre espèces, et un tigre plus jeun qui était seulement un peu plus petit que les autres.
J’ai pris le bus pendant quatre heures à Mount St. Michel, un village vertical avec un cathédrale au-dessous, construit pendant mille ans et situé sur un grand formation de pierre encerclé par le sable mouvant (quelques gens sont morts). De plus, la marrée monte chaque nuit, en créant une sorte d’île…parfait pour se cacher pendant le deuxième guerre mondial. Elle a été déclaré un des sept merveilles du monde. Le bus a du arrêter pour un troupeau de moutons. Puis j’ai monté les murailles de St. Malo, une petite village fortifié et un port pour des corsaires (des pirates protegés par le gouvernement), et vu la mer.
Dimanche matin, j’ai dormi tard, marché à vélo, et rencontré Sun Jung à la gare, où nous sommes partis pour passer le Dimanche des musées libres au Musée D’Orsay à Paris. J’était quelques centimètres proche des quatre versions de la Cathédrale Rouen de Monet.
Lundi j’ai pris un café avec un monsieur plus âgé allemange-canadien, qui m’a raconté son passé de l’activisme politique sociales-démocrates à Montréal. Apres le cours de karaté, je suis allée au café des langues où j’ai parlé français avec une Suédoise, un Français, une Espagnole et un Roumain.
Mardi, Nicole a organisé une fête de crêpes pour mes amis et moi, où elle nous a fait faire « l’art contemporain ». J’ai fait un chat et un serpent, Nicole a fait une fleur, un Coccinelle et un bébé, et Sun a fait un poisson.
Mercredi, j’ai maqué le cour et me suis promené encore à la gare à 6h du matin sous la pluie pour rencontrer Sun Jung une dernière fois à Paris, d’où on est partie pour voir le Château de Fontainebleau, qui inclure un donjon du Moyen Age, le bureau de Napoléon avec une salle de bain/ un bibliothèque cachés et un table secret qui plie pour cacher le travail des yeux curieux, des salles désignes par Marie-Antoinette, une grande salle de bal construit par Henri II qui a bloqué les fenêtres du chapel (priorités ?) et été décoré avec le symbole avec l’un l’autre sa femme ou sa maîtresse préférée (heureusement pour il, elles avaient la même initiale), les tiroirs secrets for les choses des princesses, le symbole de François I (le salamandre), des plafonds comliqués et une chaise spéciale qui protège du froid à l’un côté, et permet le chaleur du feu entre à l’autre côté. Puis on a trouvé un vieux magasin du papier dans une allée de Paris, arrêté à Notre Dame pour utiliser les toilettes, se marchées dans le carré du Louvre, passé devant le Centre Pompidou et regardé brièvement dedans, et mangé le Lanten japonais pour le dîner. Elle m’a dit de sa camarade à chambre à Paris, une des peu qui restent qui a le métier de reluire les livres anciens, même avec la feuille d’or. Elle a expliqué que les livres anciens ont des pages rêches parce que ils ont été coupés à la main, sauf au-dessous des pages qui a un couché très fin d’or, utile pour garder les pages contre le poussière et des insectes. Malheureusement Sun Jung est partie en Corée, mais on projette de nous rendre visite un jour quand j’ouvre mon magasin, et elle ouvre son magasin de trois étages avec une café française, des antiquités et des livres.
Jeudi Nicole et Claude ont invité leurs amis polonais pour un dîner qui a commencé à 7h30 et a fini après minuit. Nous avons mangé du sushi, des hors-d’œuvres thaïlandais, du couscous avec trois types de la viande, du fromage français et un gâteau polonais avec de la crème anglaise. J’ai appris que mon nom de famille original, Gościńskí, veut dire « hôte », et que le chanson d’anniversaire polonais que ma famille chante veut dire « J’espère que tu vois 100ans ». Parce que je suis polonais, ils m’ont dit que je peux supporter une variété de vins et champagnes après je suis venue de venir d’un dégustation de vins.
Vendredi Je suis allée avec Nicole pour amener un groupe des teenagers siciliens chez nous de la gare, qui m’a demande tout de suite l’age qu’on peut fumer en France et si je voudrais dîner avec eux à Macdo.
J’ai trouvé quelque chose mieux que Petits Fantômes….Monstres ! Ils existent aussi au goût de ketchup ou jambon et fromage. Le mot pouce veut dire le plus petit doigt et le plus grand orteil.

Carly

We seem to like obstructed rectangles

Today I performed ear surgery. On my bust. Figure that one out.
Heidi and Scribs came to Stock's Mill with me for a photo shoot. It is a creepy war-zone of a place. At one point, Scribs became very interested in a small, ground level window opening, shining his pen light inside. His curiosity sparked my own, and I fired my camera flash inside to see if we could get a better look. We heard some frightening disgruntled noises, possibly human, and promptly ran for our lives.
My mom e-mailed this link to me. We are so irreverant.

Maggie

Les règles françaises de la politesse
French rules of etiquette

1. It is impolite to fold your hands on your lap at the dinner table. Wrists must always be visible on the table, hands forming a fist. This avoids any uncertainty as to what you might be doing with your hands under the table.
2. A gentleman always enters a restaurant or building before a lady in order to foresee any danger, or simply make reservations for a table.
3. Upon first meeting a woman, it is customary for a gentleman to kiss each cheek (in the French custom- cheek to cheek).
4. Do not cut bread with a knife, but rather tear it with your fingers. This avoids the risk of getting bread shards in your neighbor’s eye.
5. It is very impolite to cut your salad with a knife. With the assistance of a knife or a slice of bread, fold each leaf of lettuce on your fork.
6. Your colleague at work sneezes. Ignore him.
7. Never send yellow flowers to someone, unless you mean to point out that you are aware of their infidelity toward their spouse.

I learned a lot about Korean culture and language from talking to some friends. Apparently there are dozens of ways to describe one single color. You can describe something using practically any color, but based on what adjectives you use to describe that color, people will understand exactly which color you are talking about. There are also three different forms of the word “you”- familiar, formal, super formal (military). If a friend is as much as one day older than you, you must address him/her in the formal. They count the nine months in the womb as one year of age. In France I am twenty years old, but in Korea I would be twenty-one. Chopsticks are used for most meals, except for rice- that’s impolite. Green traffic lights are referred to as blue, even though everyone is aware they are actually green (this causes problems with young children who contest their parents on the true color of the light). Although it is not very common, some workplaces and schools require several minutes of morning exercise before the day begins (this is also true of Arab schools). Laundry detergent and toilet paper are common housewarming gifts.

My 15-year-old sister will be joining me at the end of my studies to travel.
“What do you want to see?”
“I dunno.”
“Well, okay, what about in Paris?”
“….pinball machines and grocery stores!”
“…how about we go to Ireland?”
“What is there in Ireland besides some ugly cathedrals?”
“Ugly?!? You mean beautiful, intricate, thousand-year-old structures?”
“Ireland just doesn’t seem very interesting to me.”
“You don’t even know what’s there!”
“Grass.”
“…Okay, we’re going to London.”
“I don’t wanna go there either. OOH! Let’s go to that place where the guards wear funny hats and you can poke them!”
“That would be London.”

Maggie, your murder of crows followed me to France.
Sun Jung met me at The Palace Café and took me to French Ikea. They have bath soap and luggage there. Later we went to two art exhibits: Marie Bovo and Alexandra Exter, and then she cooked me a traditional Korean meal. She and Damy taught me some Korean:
Hello- Ahn nyung ha sae yo
Cat- go yong e
Ice skating- īce skating
I love the conditional tense! If I had a second life, I would dance for a Russian ballet company, become a multilingual short film director and a world figure skating competitor, continue Leonardo da Vinci’s studies to learn how to fly and keep as pets a stick insect and two kittens, who, thanks to science, would remain kittens forever. If I was an animal, I would be a mouse so I could explore small spaces, have tea parties with dust bunnies, eat French cheese and surprise my human hosts by redecorating and baking tiny cakes while they are out. A particularly frank and older gentleman in my class practiced his conditional by telling another student that if she was his age, she would be a witch.

1. C’est impoli de plier vos mains sur vos jambes à la table. Les poignets doivent toujours visible sur la table, les mains en faisant un poing. Ça évite aucun incertitude de ce qu’on fasse sous la table avec les mains.
2. Un gentilhomme toujours entre un restaurant ou un bâtiment avant une dame afin de prévoir n’import danger, ou simplement de faire des réservations.
3. En rencontrer une dame pour la première fois, il est coutumier pour un gentilhomme de (dans la coutume française- joue contre joue).
4. Ne coupez pas le pain avec un couteau, plutôt romprez-le avec les doigts. Ça évite le risque de mettre les débris du pain dans l’œil de votre voisin.
5. Il est vraiment impoli de couper votre salade avec votre couteau. Avec l’assistance d’un couteau ou d’un morceau de pain, pliez chaque feuille sur votre fourchette.
6. Un collègue au travail a éternué. Ignorez-le.
7. Jamais envoyez des fleurs jaunes à quelqu’un, à moins que vous veuillez dire que vous êtes conscient de leur infidélité de leur époux.

J’ai appris beaucoup de la culture et de la langue coréen en parlant avec des amis. Apparemment il y a douzaines de façons de décrire un seul couleur. On peut décrire quelque chose en utilisant presque n’importe quel couleur, mais fondé sur quels adjectifs on utilise pour décrire ce couleur, les gens comprendront exactement quel couleur ce qu’on parle. Il y a aussi trois formes différentes du mot « tu/ vous »- familier, formel, et super formel (militaire). Si un ami est tel qu’un seul jour plus âgé, il faut l’adresser en utilisant le formel. On compte les neuf mois dans l’utérus comme un an d’age. En France, j’ai vingt ans, mais en Corée, j’aurais vingt-et-un. Les baguettes sont utilisés pour la plupart des repas, sauf le riz- c’est impoli. Les feux verts de signalisation sont appelés bleu, quoique tout le monde sait qu’ils sont vraiment verts (ça cause beaucoup de problèmes avec des jeunes enfants qui disputent leurs parents du vrai couleur du feux). Bien que ce n’est pas très commun, quelques lieux de travail et écoles exige plusieurs minutes d’exercice du matin avant que le jour commence (c’est aussi vrai des écoles arabes). Le lessive à linge et le papier à toilette sont des cadeaux de pendaison de crémaillère.
Ma petite soeur de quinze ans m’accompagnera à la fin de mes études pour voyager.
« Qu’est-ce que tu veux voir ? »
« 'Chais pas. »
« Eh bien, d’accord, alors à Paris ? »
« …les flippers et les supermarchés ! »
« …irions au Irlande. »
« Qu’est-ce qui est là sauf quelques moches cathédrales ? »
« Moches ?!? Tu veux dire belles, complexes, mille-an-âgées structures ? »
« Irlande juste ne me semble pas très intéressante. »
« Tu ne sais pas encore qu’est-ce qui est là ! »
« L’herbe. »
« …d’accord, nous allons à Londres. »
« J’ai pas envie d’aller là non plus. OOH ! Allons-y à cet endroit où les gardiens portent des chapeaux rigolos et on peut les pousser du bout du doigt ! »
« Ça, c’est Londres. »

Maggie, ta volée des corbeaux m’a suivi en France.
Sun Jung et moi avons eu un rendez-vous à Café Le Palais, et elle m’a amené à Ikea français. Plus tard, on a vu deux expositions d’art : Marie Bovo et Alexandra Exter, et puis elle m’a cuisiné un dîner traditionnel coréen. Il y a du gel du douche et des valises là. Elle et Damy m’a enseigné un peu de coréen :
Bonjour- Ahn nyung ha sae yo
Chat- go yang e
Patinage- īce skating
J’adore le temps conditionnel! Si j’avais une deuxième vie, je danserais dans un ballet d’une compagnie russe, deviendrais une réalisatrice polyglotte des petits films courts et une compétitrice du monde de patinage, continuerais les études de Leonard de Vinci pour apprendre comment voler et garderais comme animaux d’accompagne un phasme et deux chatons, qui, grâce à la science, resteraient des chatons pour toujours. Si j’étais un animal, je serais un souris pour que je pourrais explorer des espaces minuscule, aurais des fêtes de thé avec des moutons de poussière, mangerais du fromage français et surprendrais mes humains d’accueil en décorant la maison et en faisant cuire des petits gâteaux quand ils sont sortis. Un homme plus âgé et particulièrement franche dans ma classe a pratiqué son conditionnel en disant à une autre étudiante que si elle avait son age, elle serait une sorcière.

Carly

Numbers

One hundred eighty seven: The number of little golden fleur-de-lis I painted on various items for my little. Sometimes I wish real life were more like the Adobe Creative Suite. If it were, I could have made a brush out of the golden fleur-de-lis shape and just sprayed it all over.
I made valentines for Carly and Jon, but I forgot to take pictures of them.
I have a big, black, beaded collar/necklace thing. I wore it to the president’s ball this weekend and afterwards, thought it would look awesome hung over the lampshade in my room. This interior design choice left me with a portion of the necklace melted. Luckily, the nasty spot is on the back of the necklace and isn’t too noticeable. The episode reminded me of how Carly and I had a tendency to almost set the Paul House on fire on a regular basis with our jerry-rigged lampshade.
I’ll be hosting a Frank Lloyd Wright/Art Institute field trip the weekend of March 28th. I'm sad Carly can't come.
The crows are still after me.
Maggie


La Famille no 3
Family #3

I am now living with Madame Rougé, her daughter Laure, Jessica, a student from Lakewood, Ohio, and Nina, a dog. I live on floor 3 of 4 in a bedroom with electric shutters and subzero closets (I keep my lunch in there). My house keys weigh a ton. Everything is very nice, but there are a few things that make me feel that the space is not quite my own.
I have overdrawn my bank account six times in the last six weeks.
Trip number three to the farmers’ market scored me some free dates and figs. I asked the vendor what they were and, surprised that I didn’t recognize them, he let me try a taste. He gave me a free bag of each simply because I am a student. Dates taste like candy. (French pronunciation: “dot” and “feeg”)
Audiovisual taxes are obligatory in France, whether or not you own a television. Taxes don’t exist in Saudi Arabia.
Savannah, you will be happy to hear that my professor is really into the Twilight series.
France does not celebrate graduation. The students simply pick up their diplomas from school.
British pubs, by law, stop serving alcohol at 11:15pm. There is a bell that sounds at 11:00 for “last order”.
The word “spa” comes from the Belgian city of Spa.
French developments are actually charming.
In verbal expression class I had to answer the question “What is you favorite French word…your least favorite?” My favorite word is buttons (pronounced “BOO-ton”), for the way it sounds, but also for the fact that it has a duel meaning: the buttons on your clothes, or a rash (the French say “I have buttons” when they are itchy). My least favorite: rue (“street”). If you have ever attempted asking a French person directions while having to roll your r’s, you will understand.
I bought a used bike online. It is small, meant for a male rider and the front wheel makes a loud clicking noise every time it rotates, but I love it. France has Craigslist too.
For Valentine’s Day, I made valentines for my class out of origami roses and little German chocolates. My professor told me, “I don’t know how they do it in the States, but here in France people only give each other gifts when they are in love. As much as I appreciate it, Carly, I prefer George Clooney.”
When describing a movie or a play as a “flop”, the French use the word « navet », or turnip.
Nicole sent me a postcard from Australia.
The other night there was a welcoming party for all the foreign students at the Hôtel de Ville, a sort of town hall. They served champagne and cheese puffs.
In searching for some verbal comprehension practice, I came across this.
It has only really hit me that I am in France when I am running or waiting to meet friends. Speaking has become habitual, and even oral exams don’t make me nervous. The last oral exam topic was to tell a story about a time I was happy. Near the end of the exam, the professor gave me a dirty look and explained that a cat cannot have ten kittens. I told him it didn’t matter because it was an imaginary story. He told me that I was required to tell a true story and made me start over.
This week was Sun’s birthday.
This past weekend I went to Brussels, Belgium and stayed in a charming little youth hostel. I ate Belgian chocolate, Belgian fries and Belgian waffles and drank cherry beer. I also saw the Horta Museum, a house designed by renowned Art Nouveau architect Victor Horta. For a city so rich in art and architecture, you’d think they’d have a better handle on perspective. Turns out brussels sprouts really do come from Brussels.

J’habite maintenant avec Madame Rougé, sa fille, Laure, Jessica, une étudiante de Lakewood, Ohio, et Nina, une chienne. J’habite sur l’étage 3 de 4 dans une chambre avec des volets électriques et les placards glacials (Je laisse mon déjeuner dedans là. Mes clés de la maison pèsent une tonne britannique. Tous est très sympa, mais il y a quelques petites choses qui me font sentir comme l’espace n’est pas totalement le mien.
J’ai tirer mon compte banquer six fois pendant les six semaines dernières.
Visite numéro trois au marché m’a fait gagner des dates et des figues gratuits. J’ai demandé le vendeur ce qu’ils étaient et, surpris que je ne les ai reconnu, il m’a permit d’essayer un goût. Il m’a donner un sac gratuit de chaque simplement parce que je suis étudiante ici en Tours. Les dates goûtent comme des bonbons.
Les impôts audiovisuels sont obligatoire en France, si on a un télé ou pas. Les impôts n’existent pas en Arabie Saoudite.
Savannah, tu vas être heureuse d’entendre que mon prof aime beaucoup le séries de « Twilight ».
France ne fête pas le fin des études. Les étudiants simplement obtiennent leurs diplômes de l’école.
Les pubs britanniques, selon la loi, arrêtent de servir l’alcool à 11h15. Il y a une cloche qui sonne à 11h00 pour la « dernière commande ».
Le mot « spa » viens de la ville Belge qui s’appelle Spa.
Les banlieues françaises sont actuellement charmantes.
Dans le cours d’expression orale j’ai dû répondre au question « Lequel est votre mot français préféré…votre moins préféré ? » Mon préféré est « buttons », à cause de la prononciation, mais aussi pour le fait qu’il a un sens duel : les buttons sur les vêtements, ou, quand on est bougeotte, on dit « j’ai des buttons ». Mon moins préféré : « rue ». Si vous jamais essayer de demander des directions à une personne française en essayant de prononcer le « r » français, vous comprendriez.
J’ai acheté un vélo d’occasion en ligne. Il est petit, fait pour un homme et la roue en devant fait un bruit de claquement chaque fois qu'elle tourne, mais je l'aime. France a Craigslist aussi.
Pour le jour de Saint Valentin, j’ai fait des cadeaux pour ma classe des roses d’oragami et des petits chocolats allemande. Mon prof m’a dit « Je ne sais pas comment on fait aux Etats-Unis, mais ici en France on donne des cadeaux seulement aux amoureux. Je l’apprécie, Carly, mais je préfère George Clooney ».
En décrivant en film ou une pièce qui était très mal, les français utilisent le mot « navet ».
Nicole m’a envoyé une carte postale d’Australie.
L’autre nuit il y avait une fête pour les étudiants étrangers à l’Hôtel de Ville. Ils ont servis de la champagne et des snacks au fromage.
En cherchant des exercices de la compréhension orale, j’ai découvert ça.
J’ai seulement rendu compte qui je suis en France quand je fais du jogging ou j’attend des amis. De parler a eu devenu habituel, même des examens oraux ne me font pas nerveuse. L’oral dernier était sur le sujet d’une fois j’était heureuse. Presque à la fin de l’examen, le prof m’a donné un regard méchant et il a expliqué qu’un chat ne peut pas avoir dix chatons. J’ai dit que ça ne fait rien parce que c’était une histoire imaginaire. Il m’a dit qu’il fallait raconter une histoire vraie, et il m’a fait recommencer.
C’était l’anniversaire de Sun cette semaine.
Ce week-end dernier je suis allé à Bruxelles, Belgique et resté dans une petite auberge de jeunesse charmante. J’ai mangé du chocolat belge, des frites belges et des gaufres belges et j’ai bu de la bière des cerises. J’ai vu aussi la Musée Horta, une maison désigné par l’architecte célèbre du style d’Art Nouveau, Victor Horta. Pour une ville riche de l’art et de l’architecture, on suppose que ils comprendraient le perspective mieux. Il m’a révélé que les choux de Bruxelles sont vraiment de Bruxelles.
Carly

This time, we like bugs

Maria and I both use a fan to help us fall asleep. Three nights ago, the fan died, leading to my discovery of this site. Almost as good as a fan.
Dr. Bushey got new red glasses. She insisted that this might be the most exciting news to come from Hillsdale this week.
I got a flickr and finished my identity project.
A murder of crows is trying to murder me. Last Saturday, I spent the night at Heidi’s house. For some reason, over a hundred crows (I am NOT exaggerating) really like to roost in the various tall objects at the end of her block. It’s super eerie. So on Saturday, Heidi and I got out of her car, and seeing the trees filled with black, rustling, pooping, squawking birds, I screamed “CAW!” I guess they were a little freaked out. They rose in a menacing black cloud and Heidi and I ran inside. The next morning, we discovered a very strange pattern on the street outside. There were white splotches of bird dookie covering Heidi’s car completely, and more poop on her front porch. There was crow shit nowhere else. By Tuesday, I had mostly forgotten about the murder’s warning. I was studying in my room at Kappa with the window open when I heard a feathery rustling. I looked out. Ten crows were roosting in the tree directly outside my window. The moment we made eye contact, they began to caw. I fear for my life.
I have no idea why my text is appearing so much smaller than Carly's.
Maggie

Chez Janine et Bruno

I came across something between a middle school and a high school (ages 13-16, roughly), whose students were having a mid-day break. About 85% of them were smoking.
Bruno was late for dinner tonight. While everyone else was dining, he entered the kitchen with his arms full of plein air paintings and a dead duck.
The French noun meaning a kiss, when used as a verb, becomes a very vulgar term. An American student attempted to explain the expression “kiss the cook” to her French family, and unfortunately used the verb form. The family was shocked to hear that Americans are so grateful to their cooks.
There was a strike last week that involved the workers from the train station, as well as teachers from several preschools and grade schools. It was a nation-wide strike, but locally it took up the entire main boulevard that cuts Tours in half. I’ve never seen so many children in one place.
The other night Janine and Bruno’s three grandsons came over: Hugo, Louis and Atour. Two-year-old Atour was assembling an animal puzzle while grandma Janine quizzed him, me and another foreign student on the names of the animals. At the end of the night Hugo exclaimed “Bonsoir, mesdemoiselles!”
Tonight we had pasta for dinner. With ketchup.
In mass, the congregation addresses the priest in the formal form of the word “you”, but we address God in the informal. There is a corner of the church dedicated to parking Razor scooters.
Bruno attended a strict Catholic school run by brothers when he was young. He went to mass every day, and confession very often. So often, in fact, he admitted to inventing most of his sins.
I am finding that my thoughts are lately half in English and half in French: “Wow, that’s a joli vélo,” or “Crap, I oublié my cahier.”
February 2nd was the « Fête de la Chandeleur », or Candlemas (the day Jesus was presented in the temple). Traditionally you eat crepes on this day. Holding a gold coin in your left hand, you flip the crepe with your right granting yourself the chance to be rich all year. Janine has a gold coin from 1857 with the face of Napoleon on one side.
I visited the Museum of Fine Art and the Museum of Natural History (every first Sunday of the month is free museum day). The Museum of Fine Art, originally the Archbishop’s palace, exhibits a giant stuffed elephant in the courtyard. At the Museum of Natural History, I saw the “Builder-Insects” exhibit. I learned: the domestication of bees began in Egypt; the Asian Hornet feeds on bees, and can kill up to two every three seconds all while hovering; and didgeridoos are made of branches that have been hollowed out by termites. The rest of the museum displayed stick bugs, giant grasshoppers and a tube of ants that went halfway around the room.
It surprised me today to think about how much Tupperware I have bought in the last three years. And pairs of gloves.
This week I saw figure skating ducks, gave a local directions, crossed the Loire River, consumed a star, spoke on the radio and went to an open skate where they played December 1963 (Oh What a Night) in French.
I took the bus for the first time by myself. After descending, I was approached by a young French gentlemen. He asked me where I was from. Seeing as I had never talked to him, I was surprised he knew I was foreign. Apparently he saw me on the bus looking curiously at all the buildings. He wanted to practice his English and was “amazed to meet me again.” He put me in the hands of a female student who helped me find the gymnasium. I confessed to her that I was uncomfortable with how open he was, and she explained to me that French university students are very open, and will approach anyone they feel like talking to.
It was Damy’s birthday. He showed me how to say “Happy Birthday” in Korean. I have been making little hand-bound notebooks for birthday gifts.
This week was my wine tasting class, something I imagined to be civilized and cultured. Apparently in order to get the full flavor, it is necessary to swish the wine around in your mouth, producing a terrible slurping noise. To taste a wide variety of wines in one sitting, the sommelier demonstrated that you spit each wine into a bucket after tasting it.
In verbal expression class we played French Taboo Junior. The buzzer doesn’t buzz but instead squeaks like a rubber duck.
I took a walk down “antique street” and stepped into a shop where I met an older British woman who was “delighted to welcome” me. I told her I hope to open an antique shop one day myself, and she told me how wonderful it is to work with furniture. She gave me a map of Tours and recommended some vintage clothing shops. As I was leaving she said “It looks as if the sun is coming out that you might enjoy your walk!”

J’ai vu quelque chose entre un collège et un lycée (entre les ages 13 et 16, plus ou moins) où les étudiants avaient une recréation. Environ 85 pourcent fumaient.
Bruno a été en retard pour le dîner ce soir. Quand tout les autres dînaient, il est entré la cuisine avec les bras pleine de peintures en plein air et un canard mort.
Le nom « un baiser » deviens un mot vulgaire quand il est utilisé comme une verbe. Une étudiante américaine a essayé d’expliquer l’expression américain « embrassez le chef » à sa famille d’accueille, et malheureusement elle a utilisé la verbe. La famille était choqué d’entendre que les Américains sont tellement reconnaissant aux leurs chefs.
Il y avait une grève qui a inclus des employés de la gare, et aussi des instituteurs de plusieurs écoles maternelles et écoles primaires. Elle était une grève nationale, mais localement, elle occupait le grand boulevard qui coupe Tours en deux. Je n’ai jamais vu tellement enfants dans un seul endroit.
L’autre soir, les trois petits garçons de Janine et Bruno sont rendus visite : Hugo, Louis et Atour. Ayant 2 ans, Atour assemblait un puzzle des animaux quand Mamie Janine questionnait son petit fils, moi et une autre étudiante américaine aux noms des animaux. À la fin du soir Hugo s’est exclamé « Bonsoir, mesdemoiselles ! »
Ce soir nous avons mangé des pâtes. Avec du ketchup.
Pendant la messe, on s’adresse au prêtre avec « vous », mais on s’adresse Dieu avec « tu ». Il y a u coin réservé pour les patinettes.
Bruno suivait des cours à une école strict et Catholique qui était dirigé par des frères. Il est allé à la messe tout les jours, et la confession très souvent. Tellement souvent, en fait, qu’il a admit d’inventé la plupart de ses péchés.
Je trouve que beaucoup de mes pensés dernièrement sont la moitié en anglais et la moitié en français : « Wow, that’s a joli vélo, » ou « Crap, I oublié my cahier. »
Le 2 février était la fête de la Chandeleur (le jour ou Jésus-Christ a été présenté dans le temple). Traditionnellement, on mange des crêpes sur cette jour. En tenant un pièce d’or dans la main gauche, on fait sauter un crêpe avec le main droit pour se donner la chance de devenir riche pendant toute l’année. Janine a un pièce d’or de l’année 1857 avec la figure de Napoléon à l’un coté.
J’ai visité la Musée des beaux arts et la Musée d’histoire naturelle (tous les premiers dimanches de la mois sont gratuits pour entrer les musées). La Musée des beaux arts, originalement la palais d’archevêque, expose un grand éléphant empaillé dans le cour. À la Musée d’histoire naturelle, j’ai vu l’exposition qui s’appelait « Insectes Bâtisseurs ». J’ai appris : le domestication des abeilles a commencé en Égypte ; le frelon asiatique mange des abeilles, et peut en tuer jusqu’à 2 tous les 3 secondes, tous en suspendant ; et les didgeridoos sont faits des branches qui était évidé par des termites. La reste de la musée exposait des phasmes, des géantes sauterelles, tube des fourmis qui a entouré la moitié de la salle.
Ça me suis étonnée aujourd’hui de penser combien des boules en plastique j’ai acheté pendant les trois années dernières. Et des paires des gants.
Cette semaine j’ai vu des canards patineurs, donnés des directions à des gens du coin, traversé la Loire, mangé une étoile, parlé sur la radio et je suis allée au patinoire, où on a entendu le chanson anglais « December 1963 (Oh What a Night) » en français.
J’ai pris le bus pour le première fois moi-même. Apres le descendu, J’a été approché par un jeune homme français. Il m’a demandé d’où j’ai venu. Pas lui parlant, Je me suis étonné il a su que je suis étrangère. Apparemment, il m’a vu sur le bus en regardant curieusement aux tous les bâtiments. Il a voulu pratiqué son anglais et était « stupéfait de me verra encore ». Il m’a laissé avec une étudiante qui m’a aidé trouver le gymnase. Je l’ai avoué que je n’était pas confortable avec comment ouvert il était, et elle m’a expliqué que la plupart des étudiants universitaires français sont très ouverts et s’approcheront n’importe qui ils en voudraient parler.
C’était l’anniversaire de Damy. Il m’a montré comment dire « joyeux anniversaire » en coréen. Je faisais des petite cahiers relié à main pour les cadeaux d’anniversaire.
Cette semaine a passé mon cours de dégustation des vins, quelque chose que j’ai imaginé d’être civilisé et cultivé. Apparemment, afin d’obtenir le vrai goût, il faut se gargariser le vin dans la bouche, en produisant en bruit terrible. Pour goûter un grand variété des vins en un seul séance, le sommelier nous a montré qu’il faut cracher chaque vin dans un seau après le goûtant.
Dans le cours d’expression orale nous avons joué Taboo Junior. La sonnerie ne sonne pas, mais plutôt couine comme un canard en plastique.
Je me suis promenée sur la rue des antiquités et je suis entrée dans une boutique où j’ai fait la connaissance d’une dame britannique plus âgée qui était « ravie » de m’a accueilli. Je lui ai dit que j’espère ouvrir une boutique des antiquités un jour moi-même, et elle m’a dit comment merveilleux c’est de travailler avec des meubles. Elle m’a donné un plan de Tours et m’a recommandé quelques boutiques des vêtements vintage. Quand je partais, elle a dit « Ça me semble comme le soleil sort pour que vous appréciez votre balade ! » et un

Carly