Adorable.

Basel is the first trip I’ve made while here, using Strasbourg as a sort of “home base.” In addition, this happens to be my first train ride. It’s fascinating, the trains. They were spacious, smooth, and calm. There was no confusion or adventure to the regional train, but merely an institutional blandness. However, due to this being my first train ride, I found myself enamored by the entire process. Anytime I’m in something that moves me, the scenery outside forces me to watch as though I’ve never seen the view, even if I’m riding with my parents to a restaurant we’d been to a hundred times. This time, on the way to Basel, it was new scenery. The speed could not have been great, but I saw so many different views. I loved it.

Not to mention, getting to Basel and exploring the city was a new experience. Though not the crashing tumult of what I imagine a row of Indian market stalls to be, the simple age of Basel floored me. How could some town which had never crossed my mind until the week before have so much history and importance?

I enjoyed the little excursion to Basel, and how adorable everything was that Saturday. However, in retrospect, I should not have spent Saturday night there. A day trip would have sufficed.

C'est mon anniversaire!

Birthday Drink: 7 Euros
Karaoke Liquid Courage: 7 Euros
Hand rolled Cigarette: One French Conversation
Spending my birthday with my new found friends: Priceless

These sentiments best summarize my first birthday spent away from home. Of course, nothing compares to the traditional way of spending another year of your life with family and then celebrating with close friends at an all to familiar location. Since that was not an option for me at this time, I had to modify my regular birthday celebration to the French way. As I have never celebrated my birthday in France, and I'm speaking for everyone when I assume that they have not helped others celebrate one in France, this was new territory.

Our group headed to the closest bus stop to head towards 'centre ville'. We promply realized that even on a Saturday night, a bus heading downtown only runs once an hour. We waited.
Once arriving downtown, we quickly entered a bar that looked lively and full of students. Not being able to properly order a cheap birthday shot in my broken French, the little English the bartender know, assisted me in ordering the most expensive and sugar filled mixed drink on the menu. Grabbing a table for the group was an obstacle, considering we would think a table was vacant when in reality the occupants were merely smoking outside and expected nobody to be at their table upon their return. Mid way through our mixed drinks, one person from the group, who shall remain nameless, told us that she had recently desecrated the bar floor with her regurgitation of previous drinks. At that news, we quickly expedited our departure.

We headed to our next location.

The karaoke bar we searched for appeared to be closed when we located it. We would not be deterred. I knocked on the door and explained to the doorman in my broken French, again, that we were simply a group of students celebrating a birthday and wanted to sing. Upon entering the karaoke bar, we soon realized that this was not simply a leisure activity done by other students but rather a serious endeavor where most of the participants sang in French. We quickly picked out a few English songs and made our way to the bar. Yelling the lyrics of Shakira at the top of our lungs in a group, raised eyebrows and concerns from the rest of the crowd. We clearly stood out like a sore thumb and even more so when one of the drinks i was holding was knocked out of my hand and on to the floor due to unrestricted dance moves. At that news, we quickly expedited our departure.

We headed to our next location.

We were able to locate the club, 'Underground' and decided to enter. We encountered a small, high energy dance club. We joined in on the fun. Dancing, laughing and drinking were all present in our circle of dance moves. In watching our group enjoy themselves so much, a promoter asked to take our picture. Normally, at this request I would not hesitate or give an uncomfortable look the my surrounding friends. This was not a normal situation. This promoter was a little person and had asked to take our picture by tapping the lower back of one of the students. We gathered together anyway for the group picture and were on the verge of bursting out in laughter of the vision of the promoter tilting his camera as high as possible in order to get the photo. At this news, we quickly expedited our departure.

We headed to our next location.

We decided to try and locate a bar we had already visited and was familiar to us since the night was not going as planned at all the new places. We entered the familiar bar, went down the familiar steps to the familiar dance floor to find an unfamiliar scene. We saw people jumping off a makeshift stage and others without articles of clothing. At this news, we quickly expedited our departure.

We headed to our next location.

We walked along the streets trying to find one more location to finish the night. We entered a small English pub where we saw people dressed as zombies from activities earlier that day in downtown Strasbourg. At this pub, I was able to have a very elementary French conversation with other students that attended the Ecole de Management with us. After discussing school, origin, night events and an inquiry at their hand rolled cigarettes, we finally made our way to the taxi stand.

While this experience may not be educational, in every sense of the word, it is still one I will remember fondly and often. My birthday spent in France...

Phalènes Et Pestilence

Let me start off by saying that I am feeling quite sick. Great, the day I leave for France is also the day that my body decides to succumb to sickness. I don't feel like writing at all right now, and I am far from being "on my game". I'm willing to give this a go, despite how half-assed this is probably going to be.

I'm returning to Paris after a six year hiatus, though not in the best state. God I hope that I feel better by the time I get there. Maybe it's just the nerves. I feel like I'm sweating liquid cheese and the moths that flutter outside my window at twilight have now made their home in my stomach, laying eggs and sustaining themselves on my corpus. I'm loosing acidity and my ability to kill bacteria, becoming more and more basic, melting away into the keyboard. My brain is boiling and my palms are sweaty. If any of you have read "The Soft Machine" by Burroughs, you could copy and paste just about any paragraph onto this post and it would adequately describe my physical state. Soapy. Egg flesh. Mucus.

What I want to do in Paris: I would like to visit the famous Catacombs of Paris. There is just something inherently appealing about visiting the sub-terrestrial resting place of over six million people. Many pictures will be taken and the most blasphemous of black metal will be blasted at full volume.

One of my fondest memories of Paris is my trek to the Sacre Coeur, the "Sacred Heart" of Paris
( link, just in case you don't know what I'm talking about: http://www.pariserve.tm.fr/quartier/Montmartre/sacre-coeur.htm). From the Red-Light District, I remember climbing one of the largest staircases that I have ever had the opportunity to ascend. At the top, my classmates and I were greeted with a myriad of drunken teenagers and hill-sledding hippies (It was the middle of spring and there were literally a bunch of kids sledding down the grassy hill in front of the huge, white church). My friends and I (I was actually lucky enough to be staying in Paris with two of my best friends) indulged in some tentatively legal beverages and watched the Eiffel Tower light show from the highest point in Paris. It was a splendid time, and I would definitely recommend this excursion to anyone visiting Paris. I will, without a doubt, be there on Saturday night, to relax and relive the spectacle.

Oh yeah, registration was a feculent experience. Yes, feculent. I don't want to talk about it.

Alright. Well the ambulance is here and I'm off to get some fluids pumped into my lifeless body. Until next week.

-Tyler C.

Living and Learinng

Even though we've been here for like three weeks, I feel like sometimes it's new.
One of the key things that sticks out to me is the pride here. Everyone here just has this certain "swagg" about them. The pride shines out of them like a bright light. The light can be seen from the way walk to even their clothes.
At home must of us dress nice every now and then, but it's nothing compared to these people. They don't just toss on any old thing to go to class or head downtown. We even have to get presentable for breakfast. Not saying there is anything bad about this, it's just a change.
I admire this, this one thing I want to carry home with me. A lot can be said about a person by the way they dress. I want there to be a little glow about me as well.
Another noticeable thing is everyone is so mobile here. Living close to the park we can see people coming and going. Everyone is on their bikes or running. This is another difference from home. There is a wide variety of people taking part in these activities. It's normal to see young people out doing these things, but here it literally is a spectrum of all the ages. It's so interesting to see groups just peddling along smiling, or hitting a few laps. This gives me the feeling they not only care about their bodies, but are enjoying being active. People refer to Americans as lazy, I was offended by this at first. But now I kind of understand this idea when comparing the two countries.
These two ideals really stuck in my mind. These people are proud of themselves and who they are, where they come from. I have learned so much already about the rich culture of Strasbourg/ Alsace Region. Most of the buildings here are older than most of American . There's some story behind most of what we see; instead of letting it waste away they preserve it. Each day here I 'm living and learning something new. The people here are proud, and hopefully this will be one of the things I carry with me.

Too cool for school? I think not.

     Its going on our third week here in France and I think I have pretty much adjusted to the fact that I’m going to be in France for the semester. However, I haven’t quite accepted the fact that I’m supposed to be going to school. When I signed up for this trip, I was told that everything would be the same. It would be “just like me going to school in Morgantown but in France”. After only being here for 15 days, I can honestly say that nothing is the same as being in Morgantown and obviously that person just didn’t want to scare me. I was never scared to get here I was more of worried that I wouldn’t fit in. But yet again, I don’t think that person exactly knew what he was talking about because nothing in Morgantown is the same as being in Strasbourg, France. The major difference is the people and the fact that I’m in France. In Morgantown, there are thousands of people pretty much all supporting WVU but here its different. Strasbourg has a German flow to it but everyone here strongly believes that “while in France, you must speak French”. Yes, French is still a challenge for me but I think that’s when the idea of school kicks in.
     Speaking of classes, this week was our first week of classes and the Europeans have a unique way of handling students. I signed up for classes the same day they started and that wasn’t just because I was an exchange student but that was for all students. Not only that, but as of Sunday evening no one, no professors, no administrators, no students exactly knew when classes would start. Apparently, they varied and it could change. The thing that completely blew my mind about this was that people were okay with it. However, I wasn’t going to try and change it, I was just going to accept it along with accepting the idea that we all had a mini anxiety attack at 12:00pm Monday afternoon when we were finally allowed to register for classes. Thankfully, I got all of the classes that I wanted but it was stressful. The collapsing internet system was aggravating, connecting to the internet was a challenge, and simply making sure there were no overlapping classes was discouraging. But, we all made it through and got all the classes we wanted. This meant that our first class was that same day at 2:00PM. It wasn’t the case for everyone but 10 of the WVU students had our first class.
     My first class was International Leadership. It was supposed to begin at 2:00 but as of 2:30 there was no professor in the assigned classroom. So we thought. As we were leaving someone came into the classroom and told us the room number had been changed and we had already missed the beginning of class. It was a 4 hour class but still on the first day, I needed to be there because that is the most important day. This was crazy. We had no idea that the room number had changed. No emails were sent and nothing was posted on the door. I don’t mean to critique but I feel like if they want us to learn some communication is needed. The guessing game is not fun, especially not in a foreign environment. Actually, the original classroom was too small for 55 students so we all moved to the room next door but even so, nothing was posted on either doors. Thankfully, someone came into the second room and moved us all into the basement, which is where the class was taking place. I’m not sure how people don’t stress out. I’m definitely learning to relax. I’m that student in class that writes down everything and organizes my entire academic schedule in a planner based off a syllabus but some profoessors didn’t even give us a syllabus with any dates on it. I really don’t understand how we are supposed to know due dates. This class seems pretty simple. We only have 2 assignments, no attendance policy, 5 class sessions, and the class ends late October. My second and third classes took place on Tuesday. It was a long day but yet again we were in for a surprise. I had one class from 2-5 and then another from 6-8. The class that was 6-8 was downtown and the first one was here at the castle. The first class was interesting. I’m not sure how this relates to psychology but I went along with it. Speaking of psychology, my major, none of my classes relate to psychology but I’m really not worried about it because I enjoy spending time in France. The night class was cancelled but we didn’t find out until we got down there. Again, no emails were sent. I honestly wouldn’t even mind if the email was all in French, I just would have liked to know ahead of time.
        “While in France, you must speak French”. I feel like this is the biggest truth I have heard since I have been here. My French class started off rolling. It was about 30 people in the class with about 20 different nationalities. I felt like I was back in high school, good ole’ Glenelg Country School. I feel like my fellow WVU friends were somewhat amazed by the diversity because WVU is pretty clear-cut but being in this class gave me a taste of home. I was comfortable. No longer a minority. It was great. The professor started off speaking French and didn’t stop. It was alright though because she would break down what each word meant by talking slowly and writing on the board. Of course, I feel like this class could be challenging but this class will be the most practical out of all of my classes. I also think just being in France is a life changing experience. I’ll appreciate things so much more. I’m learning so much about me, about Europe, and about America. Things I took for granted in America are actually worthwhile here. (for example- water) But, there are some things I won’t take for granted here in France, which is the opportunity to see the European Parliament in action. This is such a big deal and not a lot of people can say they have done this. I’m not quite sure what was going on but at least I can say I did it. I’m so thankful for these opportunities, the fun and the not so fun.

EU Take 2

Today was a nice relaxing day. Three friends and myself journeyed over to the European Parliament, which was in session, and it was a neat experience. We arrived around 11am so the chamber only had several people from each political party. They were all discussing "EU policy approach to the ITU World Radiocommunication Conference 2012" so it was nothing heated or anything you would see on a TV show but interesting none the less.

What I thought the most interesting thing was in the chamber was not the people making the decisions, although that is obviously the most important, but the translators. There were only four in each booth but between the four they knew all the languages. I suppose being from The States this blows my mind. I even flipped through every channel just to listen a bit to each language and all the translators were so fast. I think this would be one of the coolest jobs you could get. This was just one of my observations that astonished me.

Another thing I noticed is that a few of the countries had small flags from their country where they sit. This is interesting to see where each country sits but it almost defeats the purpose of a European identity. These people, mainly the British from what I could see, are almost separating themselves. One of the goals is giving a European Identity to all of Europe to unify but just from these little flags I feel like you can see that they will never feel like we do as unified Americans. That was just a thought that popped into my mind when I saw the flags.

Besides being envious of the translators that can speak many languages it was a great experience that not many people can say they have had. I am glad I woke up early and made the journey.


-Tyler Underwood

Travel and Reckoning

Hi everybody. I find that the blog is coming along nicely. You have all shared insightful remarks, many of them concerning travel experiences carefully considered, many concerning yourselves in light of those travel experiences. Upon reflection, all such experience, both inward and outward, naturally deepens and intertwines. When it comes to travel, and to its reckoning, you do well to bear in mind those opening lines for the course: Experience is not what happens to you. It is what you do with what happens to you.

I appreciate all your initial efforts. More specifically, I appreciate the appraisals of the Human Rights Court and the European Parliament, the sensitivity to language and to flowers, the frustrations with scheduling and with shoes, the connecting of philosophical argument and thought experiment to what people eat and to how to treat beings that are altogether foreign. Keep deepening, and keep intertwining.