Bah humbug

Holidays have never been very important in my family. Most of my birthdays after about 5 or 6 consisted of my mom and I going to Red Lobster. Sure, Christmas was usually spent with family around a fully-adorned dinner table, but I have to say that there was never really a magical feeling associated with the fall and winter season. Maybe if I had a younger brother or sister and was given the command to keep the secrets of Santa from them, I would be someone more enthusiastic about the approaching Yuletide season, but alas, to me it's just another time on the calendar.

My mom and I have not talked since about a month before I left for France. No letter. No phone. No email. Nothing. My dad, I think, died recently from cancer... but he was an absentee parent, so whatever. All of my grandparents and great aunts/uncles are long dead. My friends in Atlanta are all consumed in their PhD programs or holiday party hoping with their partners. "But you're in France! Cheer up!" Nathan screams at me on Facebook. It's easy for him to say that when his two beagles are curled up at his side. I don't know where I'm going to live in a month when I get home, Christmas will probably be spent alone and let's not even talk about NYE.

I mean, I know it sounds like I'm sad, but I'm not. Or at least not desperately sad. Yeah, it's kind of depressing to see all these people running around with smiles on their faces, getting letters from loved ones on a daily basis... but alas, my mom was convinced that I was never going to find love growing up (thanks for the encouragement, mom!), so she taught me to be pretty self-reliant. I can cook (kinda), do laundry, sew on a popped button, pay my bills and fix things around the house. I don't really need someone, but damn, it would be nice to feel like people cared about me. That's probably the worst thing about the holidays... all these Hallmark, Walmart, BestBuy symbols of holiday affection flying around... demonstrating, in quite a quantitative fashion, just how much other people are loved. I know I'm an asshole, but even trolls under the bridge need a little lovin' once in a while.

Oh well. At least I've got my music. And in a month, I'll have my dog back from the evil clutches of my ex (if she's not been eaten yet). I guess that's all I really need. Home isn't Atlanta. Home isn't Strasbourg. Home is wherever you are.

¿ Art ?

I have a photo album on my Facebook page called "¿ Art ?" The double question marks denote the dilemma which was posed recently to our class. What is art?

My fluffy answer is, "Art is the observation, duplication or representation of reality." What does this mean? Everything is art. While dictionaries and art history textbooks may lay down some concrete, finite answer to the question, I am tempted to argue that given the subjective nature of art and the infinite processes of the human mind, any thing at any time could be considered art.

What makes a photo of a cathedral taken by a tourist a "picture" and a photo taken by a student or master at the same time, from the same angle, with the same lighting "art"? It's a strictly subjective and personal delineation. From la Jaconde to Warhol's stack of crates, art can manifest itself in any number of forms with any of a number of purposes. It would be both foolish and arrogant to make a list and scream that only X, Y and Z should be considered art. Highly-paid and pretentious art critics aside, all of existence can be considered art... Much like the trite expression, "Beauty is in the eye of the beholder," so can the same be said for art. Now that's not to say that all art is sacred or above reproach or critique, but we should strife to search for, find and appreciate the beauty... and the meaning in everything around us.

Looking at life in 3D

Last weekend, a friend of mine stayed over night at Pourtalès with me. The following morning, we decided to hit the Piste des Forts and take some pictures of the foliage before trees became bare. We made our way down the main trail, snapping photos of the "tunnel" of trees, the still green fields and elegantly lit leaves on the ground. We took one of the unpaved side trails that jutted out into the forest and captured some great shots around the various étangs. We eventually rejoined the main piste and made our way north to the little waterfall for a few for clicks. We'd now been out for about 2 hours and decided it was time to head back into town for lunch.

As we meandered our way back towards Robertsau on the piste, an old man astride a Vélohop stopped by us. Noticing the high-priced camera in my friend's hand, he demanded (in French), "Can I ask you a question?!"

My friend and I looked at each other in bewildered amusement and said, "Sure, why not?"

"When you take a picture with your camera there, and then print it into a photo, it's in 2D. But when you look at this same scene right here, right now, everything is in 3D! Why do you have to have a special machine to make 3D pictures?"

Puzzled, we scratched our heads. We postulated to him various theories. The concept of depth perception. The fact that our eyes are offset by a few inches creates 3D. None of these seems satisfactory to the old man.

"Why must you have complex machines for 3D pictures?! Why can your brain do it automatically?!" He seemed almost angry in his inquiry. We bantered back and forth for 5 minutes, yet nothing we said seemed to make the man happy.

Suddenly, a light bulb went off. I answered, "Because the human brain is the most complex, advanced computer ever created."

"That's right! Have a good day!" the man answered, and he peddled off on his way.

Overcoming what we already know

"Nothing has been more difficult than to be curious about an object or a person, without being obstructed by preconceived ideas." (Zeldin p. 193)

The human mind will never cease to amaze me. No matter how often one says, "I'm going to look at this with an open mind," he's going to approach something with his memories and knowledge. There's no "Delete" button for the human brain. Whenever we look at something, hear something, smell something, we automatically, subconsciously oftentimes, compare and contrast it with things we already know. There's no escaping the years of thoughts and ideas that have been fermenting in our minds. Sure, we can try to challenge what we know and thus take in new knowledge with a new observation or experience... but the human mind is a stubborn thing, and it's often difficult to overturn old mindsets.

For example, I am fascinated by history. Growing up, I had very set ideas about things like American history, the Norman invasion of England and the Dark Ages. Much of this was based on books that I had read or shows that I had seen... but a lot of my "knowledge" was based on my active imagination that went well beyond the facts that I had read. As I got older and began to read authoritative literature on the subjects, I was overwhelmed by how much I DIDN'T know... and by how wrong much of what I knew was. It took a long time for me to get my brain to accept that all those things I thought were fact were actually complete trash. Even today when I learn about something about which I already know a lot, and I discover something new or different, my mind doesn't want to change. Fortunately, after being wrong a LOT in my life, I've learned to take such wrongness in stride.

When in Rome...

Ok. I will readily acknowledge that I am an arrogant jerk that needs his ass kicked... but I really need to vent a little.

Friends at Pourtalès. You're in France. You're in a different country, on a different continent. You've spent hours in a metal tube traveling to a distant land... and you know? The rules of changed. The kind of social and public behavior that's ignored, accepted or even encouraged in Atlanta or Morgantown are NOT the norm here. You need to learn to adapt. This is a very important skill to have because one day you're going to be in the real work where your paycheck determines the kind of house and car you have, and walking around with your head in the clouds completely oblivious to the world around you will NOT play out well for you in the long-run.

When you're in a restaurant, on a bus, in a shopping mall or elsewhere, and everyone around you is looking at you completely aghast, that should be a sign that something isn't right. When someone corrects you about something you've proposed or something you're doing, it's not necessarily at attack that needs reporting; maybe they're just trying to help you fit in. When you come to the EU, you're in a confederation of 500+ million people with their own traditions, customs, social norms and mores... Sitting and saying, "This is how I'm going to do it!" is just not cool. I would imagine if someone came to your homeland and did something totally counter to what you find acceptable, you'd be upset. How do you think the people around you feel when you make a spectacle of our group in Brussels, Frankfurt or downtown Strasbourg?

Yes, you're young. You're old. You're not hurting anyone. You're having fun. Whatever. Learn to adapt. There's absolutely no reason you can't have fun or sit at a lunchtable without completely embarrassing everyone around you. This is a study abroad program. Hence you're supposed to be learning. Not just what you get in the classroom, but what you get in life. Expecting 500+ million Europeans to accomodate our group of 16 really isn't realistic... or proper.

Take a look around you. See the environment you're in. And evolve.

I'm going to be a monk... a very non-religious monk.

Ok. I'll admit it. I'm a little bit of a slut.

I'm not going to venture into all the sordid details, but I will admit that since having arrived in Strasbourg, I've been going on a lot of dates. You see, my significant other dropped me like a hot potato the day before my flight to France. This is a guy that I had been with for 14 months, and in whom I had dumped a lot of emotional and strategic investment. I mean, I changed my plans to leave Atlanta for grad school so I could stay with him in the area. I disassociated myself from several friends of him he did not approve. I spent countless hours in my car with my pup her in crate in the backseat commuting to spend weekends with him. And, most pathetically, I gained 40 lbs in always going out to eat with him (damn Vietnamese never gain weight no matter how many hamburgers you throw down their throats). Anyway, I had given my all for this person... and halfway down GA-316 on the way to Atlanta, he told me he didn't love me anymore. Ouch.

You see, I'm a co-dependent person. I like running errands as a couple. I like sitting around the dining table with a green tea and playing footsie. I like cleaning up the kitchen after a fish sauce-laden dinner. I like falling asleep next to someone (other than my pup). Yes, I've got issues, but I'm okay with that.

So anyway, boom. I land in France. Surrounded by people I don't know, incommunicado with my mom, without my pup and emotionally cracked from a break-up. Not wanting to spend the next 3,5 months curled up in the fœtal position in my bed, I struck out and tried to meet new people. I went on dates. Had dinner. Walked along the l'Ill. Met for a beer. Laughed. Frowned. Exchanged numbers. What was I looking for? I don't know. My brain said, "You're leaving in a few months. Don't get all crazy." My heart said, "If you spend more one night alone, you might as well defenestrate yourself, loser." So I sought companionship. I sought deep conversations and daydreams of the future.

Ô France, what an emotional beast you are!

Sadly, I discovered that most of the guys here are focused more on the chase than anything else. They'd say sweet things. Promise to meet up again. And then. Nothing. Silence. Dating is a tough game... and the French, despite their "cheese-eating surrender monkey" reputation that some hold, don't take prisoners when it comes to affairs of the heart. And I can confidently say, I've been shot through the heart... repeatedly.

So yeah, the irrational part of me wants to throw away all my things, buy a ticket to Laos and go be a Buddhist monk in some cloud-shrouded monastery in the mountains along the Mekong. Of course, I'm smart enough to realize that such a drastic move would not make me any less codependent... and the shock of being without a smartphone would likely throw me into a bout of depression that would make Edgar Allen Poe looks like Richard Simmons, but there are days when the pain is just so unbearable that I don't want to even acknowledge anyone else's existence, let alone contemplate chasing after the ghost of love.

I really hope my dog remembers me, because I'll need some cuddling on December 18th.

Alain de Button actually has something decent to say

"Which explains the curious phenomenon whereby valuable elements may be easier to experience in art and in anticipation than in reality." (p. 15)

How true this rings! How often have I found myself in with a shiny new electronic gizmo in my hands, yet to be unpackaged, with daydreams of the laser beams and miraculous first aid treatments to come... only to discover a few days later that my expensive toy was best designed to act as a paperweight? There is something peculiar with how the human mind can so contort the idea of something that when it is actualized, it becomes a disappointment. Why and how is that the human mind is able to work outside the perceptions we currently experience and 'create' an idea which may or may not be based on the current reality before us? Or the rational reality that logic tells us is fact?

In the months leading up to coming to Strasbourg, I had numerous fanciful ideas floating about my head. The people I would meet. The trips I would take. The places I would visit and conversations I would have. Of course, I had already spoken with previous program participants and reviewed the program website, but my mind elected to create a fanciful idea of meetings with MEPs, interviews with European bureaucrats, dinners with VIPs... Apparently, someone slipped something into my water because I've spent more than my fair share of time sleeping on the couches of friends and waiting at bus stops in frigid weather for the last ride to Robertsau. I was able to imagine a fanciful high-profile life, despite all evidence to the contrary... and the dealt with the reality that followed. I mean, I'm not saying that I'm disappointed, but it would have been nice to sit around a table with Nick Farage just one and tell him to shut the f*ck up.

Jumping Jupiter, I'm in trouble!

I just discovered that the Blogger client I use on my computer to make blogposts has NOT been publishing my stories on here. I AM SCREWED! Interestingly, Gregory hasn't said anything about my lack of contributions, so either he's blissfully unaware, or he's already got an "F" marked in the gradebook...

It's redemption time, Batman!

It's Bittersweet.

I'm happy that I am in France. Really, I am. I love everything that I am doing here, even if sometimes it feels slow. I like to move and I like to be challenged, but I'm getting comfortable here in France and I'm feeling the itch to move again.

But this post isn't about moving. This blog is about events that I am missing and how I've dealt with them in the past and how I'm dealing with them now.

Moving every year, you get use to missing out on things back home, with your family, and with your friends. Your best canine dies, a friend gets married, and your brother has a baby.

I knew all of this when I was planning to come to Strasbourg, that my brother would be having a baby at the end of November, while I would be away. I accepted this, and acted as though I didn't care, like it's no big deal. And here we are, Tuesday, my sister-in-law had a little baby boy named Ryder and I wasn't there. I received pictures and tweets, and emails, and texts, but it just wasn't the same.

I'm glad that I'm in France, really, I am. But this is a week that I'm wishing I were back home.

So in reaction to this, I wanted to do something, I dyed my hair. I now have those natural colors of blue, pink, and purple.

I've fallen back in love with Paris

Maybe it helped that it wasn't 90º, or that my French is better, or that I am a different person than I was one summer ago or three summers ago. Or better yet, that it's the Christmas season.

Typically, I don't swoon over romanticism, most of it I think is just too much. But there are a few things in life that I am a sucker for.

1. Christmas Time - I can't be any happier than when there are twinkling lights down the streets, Christmas music playing in my ears, tastes of nutmeg and cinnamon in my food.

2. Big Cities - It has twinkling lights all year long.

3. Winter - or at least, the end of fall (November-December). When that first chill comes into town, and you have to bundle up and light the fire and sip on some cider... once again, this is mostly turning into the Holiday Season. (I just can't help myself, it makes me head over heels).

So I'm happy to say that Paris was full of this. It had Christmas lights down the boulevards, a Christmas market down the Champs Elysee, beautiful buildings lit up at night, parks stretching far and wide in the middle. It was a sight to see, and I'm in love all over again.

So this is all to say, I was able to go to Paris this past weekend, during the (don't hate me for quoting Christmas carols) most wonderful time of year. It is like a movie for me.

It's about that time

Well, it has been an interesting stay in Strasbourg, France. Looking back, before I even came here, I see how worried I was. Everything concerning this trip had nothing to do with me actually being here, it was trying to keep me in Georgia, but I'm here and it's almost time to go. I've been so ready to go home lately, but as I walk around the Chateau I realize that this experience is almost over and that there is a slight chance that I just might miss this place. And contrary to my own belief when I first arrived, I will miss the people. Please believe I my people will know about some people here. I talk about Juli's animated/unanimated facial expression, Reeva's sassiness, Sharrell's craziness, Tyler's wits, Caroline's bluntness, and yes Erry's( I don't know how to spell your name) laugh. It has truely been a growing experience for me and since this new crown has come with this new testosterone (spell check) I have some more growing to do. I always say that you must never pass judgement on any one because you will miss out on some of the best people in the world. I have met some awesome people here at the Chateau, at the EM, at the church I attend, I mean every where. I proud of that. So..I guess this is me being a little mushy, but I will truely miss everyone, and I do mean everyone, even if you've worked my nerves a couple of times. I will miss you. I can't say enough, this was an awesome experience and I feel that something else will make it even more special before I leave. I don't know what, but its a feeling. My experience is not over yet.

Paris

I am so very sorry that I could not come up with a creative name for this blog, but as of now with a week and a half left to go, I'm running low on fumes. Anyway, for the past couple of week, I have been extremely, extremely homesick. However, the trip to Paris curbed that hunger just a little bit. Before going, I asked the group that went prior to me about the city, about how much money to bring, and about what to do when I got there. Unfortunately, most of it was negative. The city is dirty, there's too many people, it's too expensive..... I so glad that they were wrong. Maybe just maybe they were on the rough side of town but I thoroughly enjoyed my experience. Our first day there, Jessica, Rachel and myself, we decided to go on a walking tour. Of coarse we needed help with navigating the metro system so we went to the most obvious place: information. It was the same ol' same ol' "Parlez vous anglais?" Head knod " No". SN: people in Paris are more serious, in my opinion about not speaking english.
Just to be a little random, I'll skip to the fun parts about the trip. On our first train ride to the hotel, there was a man on the train playing the acordian, how french. In Atlanta people get on the train argue, curse out loud, try to sale " Alkaline" water and tell you the government is putting tracking devices in our babies. In Paris, its much more cultured, even if they do ask you for money later. In addition to that lovely exposure to real music, when our tour guide Jessica Fitzgerald, took us to the centre de pomp......there was a lady whom, I guess decided that she wanted to be like the real talented people and try out her toy violin. With no form and not a finger placed on a string, she began to move the bow back and forth, creating her own tune that was not pleasant at all. However, it was great comedy; she seriously was hoping for someone to pay her for her performance. I also noticed, that in Paris there are a lot of black people or at least more than what we have seen in "this" part of strasbourg.  I truely enjoyed Paris; it was dream come true for me and I do plan on bringing my family back soon. It was not too dirty in fact, it reminded me of Atlanta, but only in small ways.

Let's All Just Grab a Spoon of Speculoos

This past week we've reached our boiling point. We've gotten to our limits. After 81 days being in Strasbourg with the same people, we're all a bit tired of it. Tensions were high this week in the Chateau and an explosion was inevitable.

And I'm ready to bolt.

When all of the Chateau Crises came about, my first thought was "when can I get out? Can I get a hotel in Strasbourg?"

Unfortunately, this is not the best solution. This sort of thing always happens. We get tired of the same game over and over again and we take it out on each other and never think that we're the problem.

I reached my wits end 3 weeks ago. Apparently, my tolerance is much less than most. I wasn't having it during my week, I let it all out, but then I got over it. And really, all of my cares and worries. So, when I realized that this was the week that everyone was going to hate everything I wanted to bolt and not get stuck in the middle of it all. (Of course, this is myself thinking, "hmm this has nothing to do with me, I don't need to be confronted about anything"). - And secret between you and me, I honestly think things have been blown way out of proportion.

But there we were, confrontation and I in the same room. When I regularly try to avoid, this time there was no way out, and when it comes at me I can't help but try to reason. This never works out, because you can't reason with collisions. Rather, I got sucked in and really, everyone did. It was everyones problem and everyones fault. With only one solution - fix it or else.

It didn't feel productive, no one felt accomplished. And honestly, it just felt like an ambush where we can do nothing right. Fine, there are things that needed to be addressed, sure, whatever. I guess this addressed issues would never be taken well, no matter how important they were; we (or just I) would feel like it's all our fault. Not to take into account that sometimes with 1000 people sharing things, shit happens and there's no reason to let it overwhelm you.

Maybe that's my problem, maybe not, I just want to ignore the problem when it doesn't seem worth stressing over. My philosophy...we all just need to eat more Speculoos.

Missing Something?

I have less than a month to go in France, and it’s a strange feeling. I’ve definitely adjusted and gotten used to my life here, and sometimes it feels like I’ve been here for longer than 2 and half months.  Yet in that same vein, it sometimes feels as though I just got here.

                While I’m excited to go back home and see everyone, I’m not ready to leave yet. I feel mildly incomplete, like I’ve missed doing something. And I’m not sure what this “something” is. After all, I’ve traveled as much as my personal funds have allowed me to travel. I’ve gone to French school, interacted and met the locals, and explored various institutions. I’ve even picked up some mannerisms of the locals (such as counting on my fingers a different way). I’ve been able to experience so much more than the average person ever gets to experience. And I know that I’ve learned things about myself that I would have never learned if it had not been for this trip. I even have the crazy stories that I know my friends will demand from me whenever I get back.

                On paper, it looks as though I should not be feeling like there is an aspect of my trip that was “incomplete.” Perhaps it is simply that I still have a month left—much can still be done in a month. I hope that this is true. I guess I’ll find out if it is or not when I leave. 

Real World: Strasbourg

                This weekend Jessica, Macy and I went to Paris and I feel like I experienced French culture for the first time. I didn’t realize how different Alsatian culture was from “regular” French culture. You can see it in the architecture, statues, art, and people of Paris. There is beauty everywhere and a deep history that I feel I barely scratched the surface of. I hate to say it, but I did fall in love with the city.

                I feel like going to Paris gave me a new perspective of how life can be which was good to have at this moment because I am getting to the point where I am looking into different job options. I could definitely live in Paris if I made enough money because I feel like, despite the expenses and hustle, that the beauty of everything would give me constant inspiration. I am so glad that I went and I am excited to go to London and experience what another type of life will be like there. 

                 Also, I am going to use this blog to out myself and my participation of the kitchen mess. You see, I have a disorder: a sleeping disorder. I have a disorder where I sleepwalk in the night and cook lavish meals and eat all the food without remembering. The problem with this is that I don’t clean my dishes. I am solely the one responsible. I am “nasty”.
-Rachel Cooper

looking back

Today makes it officially 4 weeks until I return to Morgantown. It’s surreal to me. It’s still summer there in my mind. I don’t really know why, but this 4 week mark feels significant.

Looking back, remembering how neurotic I was before I left home, distancing myself from people that I cared about, and going through obsessive preparation behaviors (like searching for the “perfect” suitcase), I still can’t decipher whether or not that was a reasonable reaction to leaving the country for a 7 month block. I remember that I just kept telling myself, "People do this all the time. There are people that spend years at war. You chose this, don't be a baby about it!" I would like to think that I’ve grown a lot through this past year. I know I was a pain to deal with those weeks prior to leaving (sorry, parents!), but I really want to know, if I was going to do this again, would I behave any different about it? If I were to go back to the beginning of May, would I change anything about my attitude or behavior?

Right now I just have to focus on doing my best in my graduate level business school classes that I’m taking (for some odd reason), as well as my other classes. I’ve got one more day trip planned for Paris and a weekend in NL to visit my Dutch family. Otherwise, all of my time will be spent in Strasbourg. I will definitely try to make the most of it. I have many things to look forward to and am extremely grateful for all that I’ve done this year.

-Maria

Danse Danse Danse Elle me Danse!

This last week was interesting. It was composed of nerves, anger, laughter, adventure, anxiety and happiness. It was quite the week of emotions but this is what traveling and living abroad is.

I think many people, myself included, are homesick at times and staying in one place and not constantly doing something can make you remember your homesickness. This has all crept up on everyone and people react to it differently. It may be lashing out on people via academic blogs or just being in a funk for a day, being in a funk for a day was me about a week ago.

 I will be the first to admit that I am a worry wort as some might say. I worry about making it to places on time and always need to double check things. So, I had to travel alone to Basel airport and fly to Barcelona to meet up with my petit ami. This involved a train, bus, airplane and a metro. Of course it all worked out in the end but I would be lying if I didn't say I was not full of anxiety a lot of the time. However, it also gave me confidence in the end. I feel great now and traveling just gives you the learning experience that you cannot acquire just sitting at home. It has been said before but seriously the old quote "It isn't about the destination but the journey to the destination", or however it is worded, is a very true saying.

Now I am filled with happiness because I have someone from home with me for a week and I am combining these two different world I live in. It is already a taste of how different it will be to go home and be 'out of the loop' with what is going on at home and having new friends, some of which live far away, that I am in the loop with but never saw back home.  

So, all these emotions you encounter you learn how to deal with these things and it makes you a more well rounded person, at least I would like to think. We have one more month and while I hope that the anger and homesick emotions do die down I hope that we all still make the best of our fortunate situation and don't let anyone bring us down. -Here comes the corny but necessary statement- We have all learned so much if we know it or not.        

-Tyler Underwood