As if you needed more proof...

Today provides yet another example of my unceasing incompetence in foreign countries. I went with a fellow American whom I met at my ultimate class (yes, I take a frisbee class on Thursday nights. I like to pride myself that I am one of the better pupils) to play disc golf with our funky hippie coach and two Czechs. The field was located in a far-away land, accessible by a bike ride, tram ride and bus ride all in a row (though not as far as Baltimore, Shelly, especially as Frank did not provide directions). However, the journey took longer than the thirty minutes predicted. We hopped off of the tram onto the number 13 bus, as instructed by our directions. After fifteen minutes on the bus, though, and with no sign of our stop (which hadn't seemed quite so far on the map), I approached the conductor --

"Excusez-moi, monsieur, est-ce qu'on a déjà passé l'arrêt 'Nid de Cigognes'?"
"Ah, oui... depuis longtemps."

He then told me, chuckling, that it would just be best for us to stay on the bus to the end of the line and come back with him on the return. So what was to be a two-minutes bus ride changed into one of thirty minutes. He chuckled some more as we got off of his bus, finally.

Oh and then on the return bus ride, I couldn't find my aller-retour ticket and spent five minutes frantically searching in my backpack to avoid paying an extra euro and thirty centimes. This is a rather pointless story, but I thought I should say something before I went off for a week on vacation (I've rented a car and sort-of sketched out some routes east...).

I'm a disc golf prodigy, though. Okay... not really.

Amitiés,
Alison

The perils of bars (pubs that is)

So, I like baseball. Big revelation, I know. And as you might know, you being Alison because Shelly probably would not, my beloved indians were in the playoffs. I say were because sadly the evil that is Boston has eliminated them, enough on such sad ponderances....

Anyway, I wanted to go watch them play, ie go to a pub and watch on a screen. So I did a little digging and found a place called 'Cheers' a la tv series from the 80's. And then I found a girl from Cleveland, or rather fate found her for me as she is in the anthro department and from Cleveland, her name is Anita she is very nice fyi.

After negotiating times and locations and sketchy cabs, we finally arrive at Cheers a week ago Tuesday. We pay the cover charge, wtf there is a covercharge i say to myself as I hand over a fiver, and enter the mysterious and poorly lit building. It is not sketchy in the I think we are going to die here kind of way a la five points flower shops. It is however sketchy for the following reasons. 1.) It is an American type of bar, with no americans, as evidenced by the fact Anita and I will be the only people watching the game. I find this odd. 2) There are Brits in their late 30's who have decided that this ridiculas hole in the wall is a great place to dance, there is a dance floor by the way. It plays a lot of american rap, some classics from the 80's and of course, beautiful pop music from the 90's i had thought (and hoped) never to hear again. But hear it I did. They also enjoy consuming alcohol and then taking a lighter and lighting their mouths on fire. Ok, this was only one guy but he did it around 15 times in a period of less than and hour, and that includes the time he almost blinded me with the awkardness of his dancing.

However, the most wonderfully sketchy part of the evening: Moldavians.

That's right there are really people from Moldovia, and I met them, and they were AWKWARD.

Here's the story:

So the game is just starting and Anita pulls out her camera to take a picture, because, you know, we are obsessed. Under the TV which is situated in the corner of the bar sit a group of 4 men, two of who are around 40, one near 30 and another I would say is about 24ish. They get very excited and then take a picture of us after we have 'taken a picture of them'. Two of them then come over to us and find out what we are doing. We attempt, several times to make it clear we are taking a picture of the TV- i do this rather vehemntly because their leather jackets make me feel maybe they are in the mob and i'm going to get in a lot of trouble for that picture- and after around 2 minutes of that, they start telling us about themselves, how they like America, and how nice london is.

Here is what I remember of what one of them, let us call him Marco, though that was not his name but I feel that he acted like a marco.
() Anita or me talking
- indicates me or Anita echoing what the other has just said in an attempt to get them to leave so we can watch the game.
** are thoughts.
[gestures]
anything else is marco.


"You are from America. (Yes. -Yes.). I love America. Where are you from. (Cleveland-Cleveland, that is why we are watchcing the game.[point at screen]). Oh, where is that? (In the middle). Oh. What is the best place in America to go on vacation. (Uh...florida. -Yes, florida.) so why are you here. (To watch the game. [Point at screen again with much movement of hand so as to draw line between TV and hand]) What? (We are students here). Oh, that is good. Where are your boyfriends. (*shit-think of something* They are at Sports Cafe because they watned to watch Rugby. They will be here later. *covertly gets out phone under table and texts friend at sports cafe to ask if he will come to cheers.* Oh. How do you like london. (It is very nice, very busy but very cosmopolitan.) {Side Note: The moldovian liked this word, i think that he had probably had this as a vocab word in english and it had a special meaning for him, because very time i said it, he got very excited.} Yes, it is very cosmopolitan. You can get really good indian food here. If you go to the Indian section, it is just like being in India. (*I doubt he has ever been to India*) [To Anita who is Indian] You should go; you will feel right at home. (*Anita is in my mind as American as they come, and pretty far from the Indians who have just emmigrated to the UK as she dresses as nice as Lauren and will be much more comfortable with me I'm pretty sure than random people from the same country as her ancestors*) So why were you taking a picture of us? (We weren't we were taking a picture of the game. [point at screen again].) What? (The game, we came to watch THE-GAME. [point point].) Oh, you like this. [he points ans is confused]. (We are from that town.) Which town? (Cleveland). There? [points at screen]. (Yes-Yes. *Jesus, Mary and Joseph*) Oh. We thought you take picture of us. (No, we like THE-TEAM.) Oh. My brother is a famous wrestler in Moldovia, he is going to the Olympics. You have wrestling in America, but i think you call it something else. (*WE HAVE WRESTLING IN AMERICA. WE CALL IT WRESTING. YOU ARE POSSIBLE THINKING OF WWE RAW. I AM NOT GOING TO CORRECT YOU. I AM GOING TO SHAKE MY HEAD AND HOPE YOU GO AWAY. YOU MADE ME MISS GRADY SIZEMORE BAT. YOU ARE DEAD TO ME.*) (Uh ha). He is going to become a UK citizen because they want to win a lot of metals in the Olympics in 2012. (Oh, how interesting). He is still deciding what to do. (*maybe you should decide to go away and help your brother find girls somewhere else*) (Yeah, it can be hard to leave your country.) (Yes, we are trying to show him the town so he will like it here. (Oh, that is very nice.) Yes.

Somehow or other he left.

There was more to this, I just can't remember. I'm pretty sure I blocked it out. It was really really, like a 9 on the awkwarmeter, so-so-so awkward.

Bisous,
Eleanor

Oxford, the perils of boots and other comments...

So last Sunday I went to Oxford to visit Jessica Ly who is studying art history there.
Firstly, this was not the best idea as I was still marvelously ill. However, I had already forked out 8 pounds, where is the pounds sign on a keyboard by the way, for my billets so I felt compelled to go not only by my promise but also because national rail already had my money. So off I went.

I boarded the train at Paddington station having taken the tube at 9 for my 9:42 train. I was slightly worried that I would not make it on time, but I arrived at the station at 9:30 and proceeded to one of those self-help ticket counters to get my tickets. Alas, they would not ready my American debit card so I rush over to the real person line and there is like a queue of around 10 people. Frack, I silently exclaim, I am never going to make it. However, the marvel of Britain is that their queues move really fast. So I did in fact make it to a person in time, though she looked at me rather skeptically when I said the machine would not read my card, as if I was somehow trying to cheat First Great Western by using a real person to get my ticket. I did finally get my tickets, there are two per journey, and rush on to the train which then left around 3 minutes later, whew. I then asked someone if I could sit in any seat, as there was an assignment rather crypicially written on one of my tickets for the journey, but she replied no, so I just threw myself into a window seat and watched the train station move away, or rather, us move away from it. Eventually we cleared the post-industrial society sector that is London's outskirts and I got to seem some hills and sheep and this made me very happy.

On the train I watched people, my favo(u)rite past time here, as well as the indigenous flora and fauna out of the window. The highlight was a rather attractive man with dark brown curly hair who seemed as annoyed by the gangle of high-schoolers who talked incessantly for 40 minutes as I was. He unfortunately got off at Maidenhead and not at Oxford, so alas I could only stare out the window for the last hour. I did get asked directions while on the train by a couple of Europeans, nationality unknown as I couldn't understand their language but it seemed European. They wanted to go to Windsor and didn't speak much English and I tried to make it clear that I thought they were on the wrong train and they quickly got off at the next station. I was, of course, rather disappointed that I couldn't tell them which train they needed to be on so I will have to study up on the rail system for future occurrences.

Oxford is rather charming and a lot nicer than I remember it from 2001 when I was first there. The buildings are old and charming, the streets twisted making you think it would be impossible to lay siege to this town as you would get lost or end up where you started inadvertently, and I had a great time wandering around with Jessica and then on my own while she went to choir practice. I did sort of my own circuit tour of the city, doubling back every now and then so I wouldn't get lost because I didn't have a map, but Oxford isn't really that big. If I go back again, I think that I will go on a tour of Christ's College which is this massive and beautiful complex of buildings that exudes academia in a sort of glow from the stone buildings. I also got to eat in the dining hall of St. Catherine's College, which is like a 60's version of the Great Hall and there for amazing and then later Chinese food in an Oxford dorm. Pretty awesome. The train ride back was uneventful except I was happy to sit down as I had been walking for like 5 hours that day and then I returned to my room after another tube ride and a short walk and proceeded to collapse into my bed where I stayed until class the next day.

This damn illness procedes however. I stopped taking the sort of medecine I was taking becuase I am stupid so I still have a bit of a cough even now. This is not helped by the fact that I like to walk home from school in the evenings, which are rather cool temperature wise, and this brings me to my second point. Do not ware boots to school. I make this mistake frequently. I don't like to look like a slob and an american so that means no tennis shoes/sneakers/trainers. So I ware boots, I also have loafers, but that is another story. However, it is a 2.2 mile walk back from LSE to my dorm and my feet hurt after like a mile. However, the walk back is very nice ie picturesque. I try to take a different route every day so I get to know the city's ins and outs. My favorite is to walk back from LSE down fleet street which is right in the heart of the legal sector and then walk over the pedestrian bridge at St. Paul's and walk along the river to Borough High Street by London Bridge and then down to Great Dover Street and to my dorm. The streets are cobbled sort of at the end, another reason why boots are a giant 'no' for this journey.

Alas, I have a paper due monday which I must start, so wish me luck. I shall try to recall some more adventures to share with you, but my life is pretty boring but there is a story about a bar which is rather amusing. I hope you are all well. ZHAO PLEASE WRITE SOMETHING I HAVE NO IDEA HOW YOU ARE. And Alison I will let you know my travel plans as soon as I can, I'm trying to figure out if I have enough money to get a hotel room in Strasbourg right now, so we'll see. I hope you get your bicyclette situation resolved vitement.

'Cheers'

Eleanor

Grave grèves

Hello, hello friends. I hope you've had a nice day wherein you needed not to walk for thirty minutes to a rendez-vous. As it so happens, however, I had to -- I missed the tram, and the screen informed me ever-so-kindly that another would not be coming for 24 minutes. Why on earth would it take that long for a tram to arrive, you ask? Well, to be fair I was forewarned, but curse that blasted optimism of mine. I received earlier this week an email from my overseas coordinator about that particular gem of French culture... no not Kevin Kline in that brilliant movie French Kiss (wait, he's not French?!), but rather strikes --

Dear Students:

As you have undoubtedly heard, a general strike has been called tomorrow [Thursday 18/10] in response to Sarkozy's proposed reform on the Régimes spéciaux. Despite legislation calling for service minimum (which actually won't go into effect until next year), you should expect little or no public transportation and plan accordingly.

For the moment it has been announced as a one-day event, but several of the SNCF unions have voted in favor of a grève reconductible meaning that this is probably not the last that we've heard from the cheminots. Organizers are hoping for a strong support of solidarity, so other public services are likely to be affected, too.

Enjoy your exposure to the French social model ;-) Courage!

The SNCF has little to do with my daily life; most unfortunate for commuters of course (though curses! for my class yesterday was not canceled, blast that solid tenacity of my professor who made it into the city!), but I was not traveling anywhere this week that called for regional trains. However, the transportation strike in Strasbourg today was by a PRIVATE company, who despite nice wages and benefits, apparently goes on strike from time to time. And, as I am currently sans vélo for rather silly reasons that cannot be remedied until I win the lottery or steal another bicycle, it is so that I must walk everywhere. After all, we don't want train conductors to have to work past 55-years-old, what with their demanding job of pushing buttons.

By the way, I like that Blogger's examples for "Labels for this post" include "scooters".

I want a scooter.

bisous,
Alison

Schweiz, part 2: Zurich and zebras

Well, ignore the "zebras" part, but I thought I should stick with the alliteration. As planned, here is the second part of my journey through Switzerland --

Zurich is, of course, a larger city than Basel. When we arrived on Saturday, we quickly exchanged some euros into francs, and then went to the tourist office to find a hostel. Good news, there was one. Bad news, it didn't open until three o'clock, and there were no guaranteed places. It was around 1 or 1:30 at this time, so we trudged off into the city to kill time until three. We found an open-air market of jewelery and scarves and sat in a café. A man representing some environmentalist party gave us pretty sunflowers. Also, whilst sitting at the café with out flowers perched beside us, a random Swiss woman came up to us and began talking in rapid Swiss German, for at least a good four minutes. Kira and I simply pretended to understand -- nodding and smiling and laughing and looking at each other in hilarious incredulity -- while the woman gestured to our flowers and then to outside. At one point, Kira even responded, in English, "Yes the weather is nice today." The woman -- perhaps senile, perhaps drunk -- then began to SING to us for a bit, waving her hands as if trying to get us to sing along. She then left, leaving us bewildered and laughing.

When the time came, we went to the hostel (City Backpacker), and climbed at LEAST five flights of stairs to make it to the receptionist. After a tense twenty minutes of searching to see if three beds were available... the receptionist told us there were not, in fact, any free beds. Bugger. However, he very kindly telephoned another, slightly more expensive, slightly further, but rather nice hotel for us and told us if we could make it there in thirty minutes, they'd hold a room for us. So we booked it across town and found a nice, cozy room awaiting us. We watered our precious flowers -- which had been drooping slightly -- and relaxed before heading out.

First we went to Grossmünster church, which was a spearhead in the Reformation. In fact, Zurich is made up of Protestant churches which are distinctly different from the cathedrals I have seen elsewhere in Europe. They are incredibly plain, in the vein of Protestant thinking, but nothing like American protestant churches; instead, they are huge and looming, so that their starkness and emptiness is that much more startling. Anyway, in the crypt of Grossmünster stands a statue of Charlemagne and his two-meter sword, which we all attempted to pull out à la Arthur Pendragon, that merry king of England.

To save money -- Switzerland is ungodly expensive -- we went to a co-op and bought a pizza to cook. And then after dinner, we took some champagne, wine and chocolate (Lindt chocolate in Switzerland = heaven) and went to the Opera house to enjoy the evening. We ended up meandering to a random dock along the river, and then we tried to get into the Oktoberfest tent (but it closed to newcomers after 11), and then meandered around Zurich because, well, we were in a random foreign country and could.

On Sunday, we discovered that absolutely nothing is open in Switzerland. We wandered down the famous shopping street -- a bit like M Street on steroids -- only it was almost deserted. We wanted to visit some more churches, but there's this silly thing on Sunday mornings where people gather in them for some reason. So first we went to a tourist shop to look at those silly tourist things, before heading to Framünster, a Protestant church with the most beautiful stained glass windows by the artist Chagall. I secretly took pictures, shh.

We then went back to the opera house, as we had decided last night to try to get tickets to "Die Zauberflöte" (The Magic Flute). It turns out that for students, tickets were only 18 francs (roughly 16 dollars, methinks), and due to the fact that it was not a packed crowd, we managed to sneak into rather superb seats. The opera house itself is beautiful, and we looked out of place since we only had one pair of jeans each and hadn't really showered in two days. The opera was amusing and wonderful, despite an overly wordy and confusing English summary in the program (I finally understood on the fifth read-through).

 After the matinée, we went back to Grossmünster to climb one of the twin towers, leading us to a spectacular view of the city. After a small dinner, we took the train back to Basel, and another back to good old Strasbourg, where I ended the wonderful weekend with a steaming hot shower. But really, I'm still a bit amazed that I can just spend the weekend in a foreign country, with only a backpack, some money, some linguistic skills and preferably a guidebook.

Dear Eleanor, I hope that you are soon better. Sad as our states are, it is comforting that even separated by distances as we be, we are still sharing colds together.

Alison, sick in Strasbourg

Schweiz, part 1: Basel and basilisks

Hello friends, I come bearing the story of my weekend -- or, half of a story.

Two other students and I decided to take a spontaneous journey this past weekend -- we had absolutely no destination in mind, only that our tickets there should be no more than 60 euros, round-trip. So, we showed up at the train station around three o'clock with our bags packed, aiming to leave as soon as possible. At the ticket stand, the woman took our only criterion with a queer look on her face ("Um... okay."), and after a few options that were too expensive or not very interesting, she offered us a round-trip ticket to Basel for less than 20 euros. "To Switzerland!" we cried, and promptly purchased the tickets.

Roughly two hours later, and we were in Switzerland. We stumbled through the practically deserted douane (in fact, our entrance into the country was only marked by a man on the train asking us where we lived and how long we would be in Switzerland), but we insisted at one office that they stamp our passports -- which they rarely do now unless you search them out. In fact, the two officers working seemed to find it amusing, and asked for money (first) and then a kiss (second). Creepy, right? But we eventually got our Schweiz stamps!

Switzerland in Basel is a curious mélange of Swiss German, French and English (the further south you go, the appearance of Italian crops up, and the further north -- German), which can be a bit head-spinning, especially since you don't know which language to try first. We opted for French, and went to the tourist office to try to find a hostel to stay at, since we didn't fancy sleeping on park benches. It was promptly settled, with a hostel open and with room for 20 euros a night, breakfast included. We hopped over there, deposited our bags, and decided on an evening walk through Basel (apparently pronounced to rhyme with "nozzle" though I quite often still pronounce it like the herb).

First I must mention however, another difficulty -- that of currency. Due to our spontaneity, we did not think about currency exchanges. While euros are accepted, it is usually at a terrible exchange rate to the Swiss franc. At dinner Friday night, for example, we settled our 55 franc bill with two 1-franc coins (we had received them as change at our hostel) and an attempted guess at how many euros were equal. We then quickly left in case it was not sufficient, though I tend to think we over-payed. We decided we needed to get some Swiss francs the next day.

The next morning, after a lovely breakfast (and after stealing bread and cheese for lunch), we checked out and began hauling our backpacks and ourselves throughout the city, this time in daylight. We took the tram up the hill to the University -- Erasmus and Nietzsche both graduated from the university. That means that it is certainly most likely that at least the latter walked on the same streets as I did -- including most certainly the 775+ year old bridge gracing the Rhine river. Unfortunately, I found no markers regarding Nietzsche's presence in the city. We then stumbled across the university botanical gardens and decided to take a walk through it. (As an aside, Harry Potter-like artifacts abound in Basel! I found the trunk of the whomping willow in the gardens, Kira was eaten by dragonsnare, street sweepers use brooms that look like Cleansweep 7's, the town's crest includes a basilisk (more on this to come), and there's a town further south in Switzerland called Grindelwald. You can imagine my excitement.)

We then walked up yet another hill (there are a lot in Switzerland) to the cathedral, which provides a spectacular view over the Rhine. And there we found the epitaph of Erasmus inside.

Anyway, one of the greatest things I learned about Basel was from my guide book, which said that Basel was the first and only city to have a public trial and execution of a chicken: "In 1474, a hen allegedly laid an egg on a dung heap under a full moon, an action sure to hatch the horrible creature [the basilisk]. The bird was tried, found guilty, and beheaded, and the egg was ceremonially burnt." Some food for thought.

 I was also successful in eating Swiss cheese, as we stopped by a market in Marktplatz and were heralded by a stall owner to try some cheese. Who am I to refuse free offerings? And then after sitting by a fountain and munching on cookies, we headed to the train station (more hills), where we found out that tickets to Zurich were 40 euros round-trip. This was a bit pricey, but considering that between the two trains we were spot-on our budget (60 euros round-trip), we decided to take it. We hopped on a train ten minutes later, on our way to a new city in Switzerland. But my tales of Zurich will wait for another time. I have class soon, and I'm rather ill, so I shall conserve my strength.

Regards,
Alison

Death, or something like it

I have a terrible cold. Now, I need to share this with you because, Alison, I'm breaking our fairly strict no medicine policy because I can barely speak. Please forgive me if I'm a complete disappointment to you, but I don't have any friends here and I need to be able to speak to make them so I don't die of Ghruba.

I'll write a legit post about Oxford when I feel better/my classes and social commentary.

Love to you both,
Elle

I was on top of Healy

Recent happenings
- last Saturday was the National Book Festival down at the National Mall. I stood in line for an hour to get a book signed by Terry Pratchett!
- the other day, I wanted to check my email in Leavey and there was a guy standing there waiting as well. I asked, "Are you waiting to use the computer?" and he replied, "Yes, but I'll only be a minute." Then I watched as the oldish man went on myspace and scanned a purple profile with a butterfly background, and all I could think was, creeeeeepy.
- Jenn said that weather.com mixed up the forecasts for certain days, which I found wildly funny.
- Jenn made 21 cupcakes for Ma Kuan De's 21st birthday ahead of time since she had papers to do during the week. But they wouldn't all fit in the tupperware, so I ate the exclamation point.
- this weekend Jim and I went exploring. We went to the TOP of the crane in the middle of the construction site of the new MSB building. Yeppp. The view was pretty awesome. Then we climbed up Healy. On a long yellow ladder going straight up - it was just a scary metal ladder going from the ground up. Aili, remember the New North ladder climbing incident with Jim? This was 10x that, and after some hesitation, I did it! You just had to keep going in a mechanical way, foot, other foot, hand, hand. It really is psychological. The crane was far, far higher and although there was metal casing around it for security, it's not like you actually had to rely on it. While on the roof of Healy, Jim TOOK TWO METAL DECORATIVE STARS by unscrewing them with his key. I had never been more physically afraid for my life, but it was exhilarating. Brave or foolish? I'd like to think the former.

London Revisited

Yes to Les Miz- I was actually going to suggest that as I see the freaking signs everywhere.

Now back to london...

I would say that the most memorable part of the last few days was after a meeting last week, I just walked around for five hours. I went to the National Gallery and stared at art and covertly listened to the presentations they were giving to high school and elementary school children. Alright, It wasn't that covert, but I tried at least.

Then I walked by Parliament and all the government buildings, although, it took me awhile to figure out that they were indeed the government buildings. It was only after looking for a trash can for several minutes that I realized that these must in fact be government buildings. Yay, I'm so smart.

Then I was going to go into Westminster Cathedral, you know because it is right there. However, you have to pay 10 pounds, and I was like, no way am I paying to go in. So, I have decided that one Sunday I will temporarily convert to C of E and go in during services.

Then I meandered my way towards Hyde Park. On my way I ran into a street fair and later Buckingham Palace. Oh, I bought a sandwich and ate it in Green Park. This was lovely.

After that, I headed up along Park Lane, which is the very Posh street with a lot of expensive hotels and went to the US Embassy. I looked at the flag waving in the sky and the people in business suits laying on the lawn.

Hum, then I walked down Oxford Street. Big Mistake. This is the main shopping street in London as far as I can tell. There are thousands of people walking up and down. It is ridicules. It took me probably 15 more minutes because of human interference to walk down it that it should of. Also, these people walk really slowly. I had to do some rather skillful walking, a ballet of walking as it were down the street. Then I went to a rather boring meeting for the Anthro. Dept. and made small talk for an hour. This took all my patience and will not to run out of the room after the first 15 minutes.

When else: I went to Ikea with two other gtowners and two kids from USC, which was a giant expedition involving a tube trip and a bus, but well worth the 1 pound plates and bath mat I got. Hey, Do you know Sarah Holcomb? I've been hanging out with here her a bit.


We also did a bus tour of london, which was informative. Oh and I went to a pub and had 1/2 pint of something called 1664. or was it 1666? well it is something like that. I didn't like it very much to tell the truth.

Monday I had my first lectures. Comments are as follows.

Arab-Israeli Conflict: Teacher is alright. Woman. Has some enthusiasm for topic. Could be very interesting.

Socio-economic Anthropology: Teacher is a little crazy in the awesome way. Material looks interesting.

Morality and Values: Teacher really is in to this. But seems to be good at lecturing. (He was the best at the discussion part for this day.)

Tuesday:
Political and Legal Anthropology: Teacher is lackluster in his lectures. I may need to find another class.

So...I find out kinship sex and gender is the same day and go to that. But first I finish my philosophy reading because I have a legit class today. We have one lecture and one class a week for each course and the one you speak in is class so I thought I better get my act together.

Kinship, Sex and Gender: Teacher is amazing, but there are so many people I dont' know if I will get in. Therefore am in Dilemma.

Philosophy Class: Really intense. Firstly because I have a French prof. who is surprised I know french and geography. Then, these kids are mostly all majors so they are way into the discussion and are arguing points that while i understand, i just don't get why they are clinging to them so strongly. arg.

Then I go to a history class on the cold war, which seems rather interesting and the lecturer is really good, so I don't know what to do about this one either. I think that the Arab-Israeli conflict is probably more important for me to know about given that the Cold War is over, but still that knowledge is relevant.

Today being Wed. I have no classes. I also slept till 2 pm because I didn't set an alarm. However, I am sick so that might have something to do with it. I would like more notes that on your patissarie eating next time. You've made me hungry. I have to go forage now.

What I love about la France...

  ... is that just about every patisserie has delicious mini-cakes, crêmes brulés, tartes ... and I can sit on a park bench and enjoy sunshine and sweets.

That's all I have to say, really.

Amitiés,
Alison

PS: If I were to visit you in London, Elle, could we go see Les Miz in West End? Hee hee... I mean, I'd bravely cross the Channel chiefly to see you, of course. Of course. But, since I'd already be there...

First Impressions, not the Austen novel

I resent the implication, Ms. Goodrich, that you are the principle writer of this fine blog. I am technologically challenged both my distance and my aversion to all things modern. Therefore there should be some kind of learning curve to this stuff.

Let me reflect...
I didn't finish packing until the day I left. I double and triple checked things. Yet, I still forgot a bunch of random things, which now will have to come in the package of cooking things my mom is sending me. Like most of my makeup. I feel I should have some. Oh well. My natural luminance shall have to carry me through.

Our plane left at 1:30 cle time and then we flew to chicago to connect to our london flight. Bad idea. Don't fly west when you want to go east. Next to me there was a british man who looked vaguely like my Gov prof from last year. Vaguely. My favorite part of the trip was when he said after we landed. "It'll be good to get back to some good old horrible weather." This is when I suddenly realized that I would need and umbrella. Luckily, I had apparently thought of that weeks ago and packed one and forgot about it. I also watched what is, in my opinion, the worst movie made in the last 2 years. It is called "lucky you" and it rivals the marvel that is "chasing liberty". I mean this in all seriousness, it was so bad and cliche that it was funny. I mean my dad and i spent 1.5 hours laughing at how bad it was at times.

Hum what else. Everything here is so expensive. I need to find a really cheap way to feed myself, and soon. Borough market is apperntly good and is near my housing, it is sort of like eastern market with food stalls and such i think, we have something like it at home, so i'm going to go explore that saturday. apperntly celebrities shope there. i will let you know if i see anyone.

The last few days my dad and I have just kicked around London. We went for a walk to my dorm which is 2.5 miles away from the school and takes like 40 minutes to get to. The area is slightly dodgey and I shan't be walking around here at night without at least one male. Or two females. This is not to be an indication that i find women in any way inferior to men. This is the second oldest settle area of London, but now it is mostly shabby housing and a few appartment complexes. There is decent night life according to some on the nearby thoroughfares.

London is insanely busy. I am going to die because of this traffic. I keep looking the wrong way when I cross the streets, in spite of the fact almost every intersection is marked with the direction of traffic coming. today, there a man on a bike that cursed for a full minute at a cab driver that went two far through an intersection. Also, there are so many people here, i don't know what to do with myself. I feel like i am constantly walking on the wrong side of the sidewalk or something, except no one seems to be walking with any order at all. I feel like the amount of foot traffic is even worse than New York, it is really jam packed during the week, people spill out of the islands that are in the center of the street for pedestrians to use.

It is really beautiful though. We walked throughout Southwark and then over Tower Bridge past the tower of london into the heart of the financial district during our tour of the city a pied. The mixture of architectural styles from the last 400 years is quite stunning really, expecially in comparison with american cities. Washington is beautiful, but this has even more styles that are all harmonized together my their proximity and the history of the area. Baroque next to modern glass. Remnants of the devastation of the second world war are also evident in places, though this city is almost perfect, esepcially since i've seen berlin, which hasn't really been rebuilt in sections. I did see a church here that is missing almost the entire nave, only the entrance remains. The certainly could have rebuilt it, but you get the feeling they left it that to remind the future generations of what happened and what this city survived.

Today I had orientation, which was pretty much like that meeting they made us go to at georgetown in the Gym that just told you everything you would already have know if you read their orientation materials. Apparently i am the only person that does that though. Stop laughing at me right there. One of the deans was rather humorous which made it more enjoyable that I had thought.

After that, I walked with my dad to the Museum of london, which has exhibits on the city's history. I of course loved it as I have always love archeology. For your information 4pounds 36 shillings was two years salary in 1348 of the average laborer. Someone found it hidden in a wall. I wonder if i've hidden any money anywhere i've forgotten. Probably there is a pair of jeans in cleveland with 5 dollars in them.

Hey. As to Paris-we have a subsidized trip there 9-11 Nov. But, I'm willing to go sooner if you like, say the third weekend in october? I'm kind of broke so i don't know if i'll be able to go to Strasbourg as well, but i'm going to try and swing it. I would love to see the city. I guess I could see you as well. Do you know a hostel i could stay at?

Also, I miss you a lot. Bisous and hugs, Eleanor

Weekend get-away, get away

Well, this past weekend I went to the Côte d'Azur with the other Georgetown students studying in Strasbourg. On Friday night we took a sleeper train to Nice; each room was stuffed with six couchettes. For me, there's something so romantic about trains -- even the overpriced, poorly run Amtrak trains captivate me. Even the six cramped couchettes -- overheated (at least until our window was stuck open and we froze to death), with no privacy or even any security -- were enthralling. Scenery rolled past, with often stops marking a slow progress. The train lulled me to sleep, although the bed was hard and there were strangers in the room; and when I awoke on Saturday, it was the next morning -- in Nice.

We spent the day in Nice, which started off well enough but ended by being disappointingly drizzly for the afternoon. I found le marché aux fleurs where I stumbled across with my family over seven years ago during our brief foray to the South of France, and where Cary Grant shook off some policemen trailing him in To Catch a Thief (I actually spent a lot of time on this trip thinking of that movie). Afterwards, I made my way to the waterfront, and I found the same lookout I used to observe the city in 2000. I sat at a crêperie and had an overpriced nutella and banana crêpe and hot tea; I read and watched passersby and was attacked by a yellow jacket intent on my inappropriate midday meal.

I then went to the Musée d'Art Contemporain, hoping to escape the increasing chill of the afternoon, and pretending to be cultured as you know I tend to do. Afterwards, I browsed some shops, and ran into some of the students who had gone to the beach earlier that morning. I followed them to an English bar for cocktails to console us as the drizzle had begun to dampen the streets of Nice. After a dinner with the group, we returned to the bar, and I and two others engaged in conversation with some Germans who told me -- among other things -- that the only languages anyone ever need learn are English and German. I told them my two German phrases, and they taught me a curse word. Why do I always end up talking with Germans? I also later got in a fight with a bush after visiting a late-night crêperie (yes, I have an addiction), but that is a story for another time.

On Sunday we spent the day driving to Monaco, Eze and Cannes along the Mediterranean. To me, the small old city and palace that we visited in Monaco (we later drove through Monte Carlo) were cardboard cut-outs of real places, a Disneyworld attraction, only less fun because Disneyworld is grand really (in fact, I'm spending the New Year there with my family). Nothing seemed unique; every store was a tourist souvenir shoppe; the only scenes that inspired in me the desire to stand and admire or photograph were the beautiful cliffs rising sharply above the bright blue of the sea. Eze was a medieval city -- of the old, walled types, with doors that make you wonder if people could really fit through them, once. And in Cannes I kept myself to the main street along the beach, and a market of local artwork and crafts. The only stores were designer stores; the only emblem of the city was the film festival that one is reminded of every ten paces.

So overall, despite a scenic view of breathtaking sea, mountains and cliffs, the Côte d'Azur mostly... lacks character, as I suppose most places driven by tourists are, by default. It was lovely for the weekend, but I was happy to return to the 'bourg after it all; I arrived this morning via another overnight train, with time for a shower before my only class of the day.

I trust that you are all well -- I suppose Eleanor is soon in England, if not already. And Shelly, begin checking your mailbox for something exciting.

xx bisous,
Alison