Lessons in French / Mes Rêves #8

Vous avez un stylo? Do you have a pen?
Oui! Yes!
Merci. Thank you.
De rien. No problem.
*runs away with pen*
Donc, j'ai eu un stylo. Well, I had a pen.

#truestory

But she came back! The girl who stole my pen brought it back! And she made me sign some stupid paper. The paper people have you sign to steal your money. But whatever, I had my pen back. Except then I didn't. Somehow she got it back. I felt sorry for her -- or my judgment was seriously clouded -- so I gave her two euros. She looked at me and said there was a $10 minimum donation. That's fine, I'll take my two euros and my pen back! Except then she was leaving with my money AND my pen. How is this happening? So I asked for my pen back and she told me no. Umm, excuse me? So I switched her. I gave her a different pen in exchange for my pen. She told me no again, but I was firm. I wanted my pen back. She finally said yes, looked in my grocery bag to see if I had any food, and ran off.

So what's the big deal about this pen? The pen itself is actually kind of embarrassing because it has I Heart Paris all over it and the Eiffel Tower, but it writes so well. And it fits in my hand perfectly. It's also my only souvenir from Étretat, potentially my favorite place in France. Well, at least top five.

Anyway, yes, I did get the pen back. And on top of the original overpriced 2€ I had to pay, it cost me another two euros and my second favorite pen.

But I got it back.

Speaking of Étretat, I went there yesterday. It's a small city on the northern coast of France best known for its cliffs. Well, that's what brought me there.

#8: Visit the cliffs of Normandy ✓

One of the things I learned at study abroad orientation is I needed to talk to my parents about "my wishes" if I died abroad. My mom about killed me when I brought it up, and probably isn't happy that I'm mentioning it again, but I continued talking about it anyway. I told them that if I died in France and they couldn't secure me a place in the Panthéon I wanted my ashes thrown off the white cliffs of Normandy. I had no idea if these were even real things or things I made up in my head, but those were my wishes.

Now that I've been to Étretat and hiked all over these white cliffs, I've changed my wishes. I no longer care about the Panthéon, I want to be thrown directly off the cliffs of Étretat, even if someone comes back to life and a spot in the Panthéon opens up. Here's why:

I mean, who wouldn't want to spend the afterlife here? Word of warning, though: make sure the wind is going away from you so that my ashes go out to sea and don't come flying back at your face.

Mes Rêves #16

#16: See the Musical Fountain Show at Versailles✓

Sunday afternoon I went out to Versailles for the musical fountain show. I got there an hour early, so I had a picnic by King Neptune's fountain and then spent some time just wandering around. At 3:15 as I was wandering, I heard some music start and could see the very top of a fountain show. I hurried over, but right as I arrived the show ended. I was so disappointed. I had missed the opening ceremonies!

Everyone else there had some sort of program with them, so I decided to follow the crowd to wherever the next fountain show would be. I ended up just stalking a family for 5 minutes before I decided they weren't going to lead me to the next show.

They didn't lead me to the next show because they couldn't lead me to the next show. The musical fountains are all on for two hours. Even the "opening ceremonies" show repeats. I found this out when I stumbled upon it a second time, right as it was ending. I decided that I would just sit there and wait however long it took for the show to come back on. It turns out that the 3 minute show is played about every five minutes. So even though I walked up at the very end, I only had to wait about two minutes for it to start again.

The only thing I did miss was King Neptune's Fountain. It's supposed to do something special from 5:20-5:30, but I was there from 5:10-6:00 and nothing special happened. I did get to see water coming out of it, though, so maybe that was all there ever was to see.

One final important note about Versailles: They're chocolat chaud is gross.

Goodbyes

I hate goodbyes. There is nothing good about them. It doesn't matter if I have known someone for 10 minutes or 10 years, I just never seem to know how to sum up everything into a single goodbye.

Last Friday as I was walking home in the pouring rain after my final day of classes I thought that I had finally come to terms with leaving Lyon. Sure, it was a little sad to be leaving, but mostly I was fine.

Then Saturday came with its gray clouds and rain and it hit me hard - I was going to miss everything. I walk outside my apartment and all I can think is "I'm never going to see that garbage can with the KEN graffiti again!" I've grown really attached to this garbage can ever since someone graffiti-ed it with half my name.

I didn't know what to do. Obviously I am going to have to leave Lyon, and even if I don't, all the people who have made it so amazing are leaving anyway and it will never be the same. So, like any logical person I decided to turn to movies for inspiration about what to do.

First is a quote from Peter Pan. Which isn't really a quote from Peter Pan, but it's a good one nonetheless:

I took these words to heart. I have yet to say a single goodbye to anyone. There have been a lot of Safe Travels and Take Cares, but so far no goodbyes.

Second, is a quote from Pride & Prejudice:

"Let us not say goodbye, but as the French would have it, 'au revoir'!"

I like this one a) because it uses a French word and b) because a literal translation of 'au revoir' means to the next sight or until I see you again. That is a million times better than goodbye.

Even though I've avoided the word goodbye, I can't avoid how sad I am that this experience is over. But Julie Andrews taught me that when I'm feeling sad I simply need to remember my favorite things and then I won't feel so bad.

Here are my favorite things from Lyon. These are things I'm going to miss the most when I get home, but that have also made this experience worth it.

• Walking around Vieux Lyon.
• Sitting outside St. Jean's Cathedral.
• Running to the Parc Tête d'Or.
• French lessons over dinner.
• The view of Notre Dame from my window.
• Roommate stories.
• Crazy teachers that divulge too much of their life experiences.
• The 15 minutes of socializing before FCC because the teacher is late - again.
• "Let's meet at Bellecour"'s.
• Playing with homemade cards on the train.
• Tuesday lunches at the cafeteria & the stories that come with them.
• Chance encounters on the metro.

So thank you to everyone I met in Lyon. You made being sad to leave worth it.

Mes Rêves #12, 15

#12: Visit the Geneva Temple✓
#15: Order something at a store correctly and understand everything they say✓

Today was my last full day in Lyon and I figured it was time to finally run around to 5 different boulangeries to try some bread. Even though it was raining and even though I wasn't hungry. Not my smartest idea. I got to three, almost threw up eating a brioche praline before going home to dry my soaking wet feet. On my way back out I made it to a fourth one, but couldn't find an open fifth one. Which means I'm going to have to re-eat 5 different types of bread in one day.

On the plus side I got to try my first French beignet. I've wanted to try a beignet ever since I saw The Princess and the Frog and saw Tiana's delicious looking beignets. My sister and I attempted to make them once, but I don't think the beignets we made were the "key to a man's heart" that Tiana made them out to be. The beignet I had today was so delicious. It was almost a donut but more bread, less glaze, and topped off with Nutella and powdered sugar -- very impressed.

However, today was not a total waste, because when I went to the first boulangerie I ordered, the lady told me how much I owed, I thanked her, and left. When I got outside I realized the whole thing had happened in French without me realizing it. Don't get me wrong, I put a lot of effort into making I said my French right, but I was able to understand her as well, which was awesome. After a semester in France I can finally do what I came here to do -- order at a French boulangerie without any weird stares. It was a great feeling.

Lastly, three and a half weeks ago I went to Geneva. I never got around to writing about it so quick summary - the UN building is awesome and brought back a lot of great memories about Model UN, fondue can not be bought for a reasonable price between 2:30 and 6:30, and Geneva is a weird mix of big city and nature.

Another fun fact about Geneva - the Mormon Temple is not in Geneva, it is in Bern which is a 45 minute, 90€ train ride away. That's right, 90€ one way. Which means that I did not make it to the temple. Lucky for me, Geneva has a whole Temple Place on the map, so I used that to fulfill my goal. It wasn't the same as seeing this temple:

...but the places I did get to see were pretty cool, too.

One final thought (and then I'm really done): if you're following me on Twitter/Instagram (...you're not following me? I can't imagine why not, but let me try and persuade you - #bananart #ananart #nooffensefellowmormons) you will know that my favorite catch phrase is true story. Tonight during Ironman 3 I learned how to say true story in French - histoire vrai. Oh, you haven't seen Ironman 3 yet? That's because it was released in France a week before it will come out in the States.

#HistoireVrai

A Less Sleep Deprived Day - Mes Rêves #5

#5: Make a wish on the star at Notre Dame in Paris. ✓

Remember that one time I went to Paris?

Just kidding, I've been to Paris more than once.

The trip I'm referring to is the day trip to Paris that turned into a day trip to Paris and a night at the Charles de Gaulle airport.

Despite the many things that went wrong on that trip, though, at least one thing went right because I got to make a wish on the star at Notre Dame. Granted I was surrounded by a bunch of annoying teenagers, but that's okay. And sure, my wish didn't turn out like I hoped it would, but it did come true.

I hate it when fate is tricky like that.

Unfortunately, my only photo evidence of accomplishing this is on my computer, surrounded by layers of bubble wrap and in my luggage on its way back to the USA. Or, it would be if DHL had picked up my luggage today. Instead it was just me and my luggage sitting outside reading a book while we waited for a truck that never came.

I do have proof of that though:

I can't decide which was more fun, sitting there reading for two hours or dragging my luggage back up the stairs after no one showed up. (The elevator is broken from floor 0 to 1.)

Most of all I'm looking forward to re-dragging my luggage down tomorrow and another two hours of quality time with these belongings before they really head back to the states.

Serves Me Right For Wishing on Stars and Packing My Sunglasses - Mes Rêves #18

#18: Visit the Count of Monte Cristo Chateau in If ✓

Before booking a trip to Marseille, you should first check the weather.

After checking the weather, you should plan your trip according to that forecast.

This is not what I did. I booked my trip and then checked the weather. And after seeing it was supposed to be cloudy and cold all day I planned a trip that was based entirely outside.

The only things that I knew I wanted to do in Marseille were see the Chateau d'If, visit the Ile du Frioul so I could walk on the beach, and maybe go for a short hike in the Calanques if I had extra time.

In the end I didn't get to do anything of these things.

I got into Marseille at 8 and since the first boat to the Chateau doesn't leave until 10:30 I decided to go exploring. The city was beautiful. There is something special about walking around a city that's still waking up. I got to see the main sites without a bunch of tourists holding up their iPads to get a picture. I also got to see people setting up a fish market at the Old Port. It was everything I hoped Marseille would be.

Well, almost everything. I had hoped to walk around Marseille in shorts and sunglasses getting a tan on the Mediterranean Coast, but it was actually freezing and cloudy. Luckily I had the sense to pack my fleece jacket at the last minute.

At 10:00 I found the Frioul - If Ferry and confidently asked for a ticket - in French. Then the cashier told me I could only go to Ile de Frioul. I froze and just stared at her. What did she mean I could only go to Frioul? The only reason I came to Marseille was to visit the Chateau!

I walked around looking for other ways to get to the Chateau, but there was no use. No boats were going to the Chateau today, all because of a little wind. And by a little wind I mean I-almost-fell-in-the-water-from-standing-to-close-to-the-edge kind of wind.

I was so shocked that I was being defeated in this goal that I got some bread to eat while I thought things over. I finally decided to go to Frioul and try and see the Chateau as we passed in the boat. That's almost the same thing as actually visiting it, right?

However, by the time I made this decision, the boat schedule had become even more limited. It was now only making two trips out to Frioul and I either had to stay there for 20 minutes or six hours. By this point it had started raining and since the only thing I wanted to do in Frioul was walk on the beach and read I figured it wasn't worth it.

But I was determined to see the Chateau. I had specifically read The Count of Monte Cristo before coming to Marseille to be sure I fully appreciated this trip.

So in the wind and rain and my very thin fleece jacket I started walking away from the port and up a hill I hoped would lead to a view of the Chateau.

As I came around a corner I finally saw it. It was beautiful sitting all alone in the middle of the stormy sea. And while I didn't actually visit it, seeing it was almost as cool. Who wants to tour a chateau and see the tunnel Edmond Dantès dug anyway?

I sat there on a bench just looking out at the sea for a while until the rain finally got to me and I had to make my way back to town.

All I wanted was to find somewhere inside and warm were I could pass the next 11 hours. The Chateau was no longer an option, I had missed the boat to Frioul, and I had no intentions of hiking around the Calanques in the wind and rain.

I managed to find a street lined with stores and pretended to shop for a while when really I was just using them for the heat and shelter from rain they offered.

Finally at 1:00 I gave up and decided to head back to the train station.

I got lunch at the grocery store across the street and sat on the floor of the train station so I could charge my phone while I watched The Princess and the Frog. Of course the only outlets also happened to be right next to the door. Every time someone opened the door I was reminded of how cold I was and how much colder it was outside.

I had completely written off Marseille at this point. In fact, as I was sitting there in the train station I decided that if I ever met someone from Marseille I would blatantly tell them their city sucks.

But then I had the chance to spend 5 hours at the train station. And let me tell you a few things about the Marseille train station:

a) It is an open train station. If it's cold outside, it's cold in the train station.

b) The climate-controlled waiting room is hidden, but it does exist. There are chairs and outlets here.

c) Apparently sleeping in the climate-controlled waiting room is frowned upon. The security guard will wake you up and look at you judging-ly for having the gall to sleep on the floor.

d) There are two sets of bathrooms; one costs money and one is free. The free bathrooms are always closed, though, because they have problems with vandalism, and they will direct you instead to the 50 cent bathrooms.

e) There is a piano in the train station that anyone can play. This is the best place to pass time as you will get to see a variety of very talented musicians perform.

I ended up buying an earlier ticket home and only spent five, instead of the originally planned ten, hours at the train station, but in that time I learned something about Marseille. I think the city purposely made sure I couldn't do the things I wanted to and offered me a different view of Marseille - the people side; people who are nice and let you practice French even as you butcher their beautiful language and people who genuinely love their city. I think that told me more about this city than anything I would have seen if today had been what I wanted it to be.

And who knows, maybe one day I'll go back to Marseille and actually visit the Chateau and hike the Calanques.

Then again, maybe not.

Mes Rêves #14

#14: Finish a book in French ✓ 

For this goal I chose to read Harry Potter because:

a) I have the whole series memorized so even if I didn't understand the French I would still know what was going on.

b) ...

Just kidding, that was my only reason for choosing Harry Potter.

I knew it was going to be difficult to read a whole book in French, but I didn't realize how hard it would really be until I actually started trying to read. It turns out that having a book memorized and speaking Spanish is not enough to make me a fluent French reader.

But I was determined. I sat in a café for an hour and a half the first day... and made it through the whole first chapter. On the one hand I felt so accomplished for finishing a chapter, but on the other hand I was annoyed at how slow I read. I could have told myself the story in English verbatim faster than I could read it in French.

A little less than a month in (and three or four chapters) I had to put Harry Potter on hold so that I could read The Count of Monte Cristo before I visited Marseille. It was so much fun to be reading in English again that I conveniently forgot about Harry Potter and found other English books to read.

In March I decided it was time to try Harry Potter again. That was the first time I realized how much French I had learned. I was still slow, but I was no longer illiterate-child-who-just-started-kindergarten slow. I could actually read a chapter without having to devote my entire day to it. I started taking Harry Potter with me everywhere and reading whenever I could. The more I read, the easier it was.

Then, three weeks ago I finally made it to the last chapter. But I really wanted a cool picture of me finishing the book, which meant I had to wait for the weather to warm up so that I could finish the book at the park.

Today the weather was beautiful and I finally finished Harry Potter. I read 312 pages in French.

In those 312 pages I learned a lot of interesting things about French Harry Potter:

1. The French version likes to change names unnecessarily. You may think that if Dudley, Dumbledore, McGonagall, Weasley, and Hermione Granger make the cut, everyone will make the cut. This is not the case. Draco Malfoy becomes Drago Malefoy and Snape becomes Severus Rogue (not to be confused with rouge, the color red). Were these name changes really necessary? Why did some people have to change their names and not others?
2. Hogwarts is not Hogwarts. Speaking of name changes, Hogwarts is Poudlard in the French version. Really? Who wants to go to a school called Poudlard?
3. A final rant on names. Gryffindor = Gryffondor. Easy enough. Slytherin = Serpentard. Not as obvious, but still pretty obvious. Hufflepuff = Poufsouffle. A little more challenging, but that word just seems to scream Hufflepuff (perhaps it's the excessive number of 'f's'). Ravenclaw = Serdaigle. What? Where in the world did that come from?
4. French wizards use magical baguettes. True story. A magic wand in French is baguette magique, which now makes me want to wave my bread around and cast spells at people.
5. Voldemort gets another name. In French there is a difference between you formal (vous) and you informal (tu) which means that you can't just have You-Know-Who, you have to have Tu-Sais-Qui and Vous-Savez-Quoi. This is in addition to all of his other names including Celui-Dont-On-Ne-Doit-Pas-Prononcer-Le-Nom (He Who Must Not Be Named). It really gives new meaning to the "fear of a name only increases fear of the thing itself" idea.
6. À L'école Des Sorciers is the same thing as The Sorcerer's Stone. The French title of the first Harry Potter book literally translates to Harry Potter at the School of the Wizards. However, when you try and put this into Google translate to make sure you are right, it changes at the last second to "The Sorcerer's Stone" (it works backwards, too). Apparently Harry Potter et la Pierre philosophale just wasn't as cool.

The best thing about reading French Harry Potter, though, was how many new words and phrases it taught me. Like hélas (alas), balai (broom), Dubois (Wood), jumeaux (twins), Moldus (muggles)... Hopefully some of these show up on my French final tomorrow.