(Private) Service Announcement

I changed the blog to a private setting, as I've just now realized that you can add people to a "reading" list, as opposed to being completely shut off except for we three. No one is added at the moment, but let me know if you have a special someone who desperately wants to read of our enchanting (mis)adventures.

Also, my tandem partner invited me to his house in Lyon next weekend. What am I supposed to say?!

A day like any other...

Happy Thanksgiving, my compatriots! Here I have a brief ex-pat holiday checklist:

Turkey? No
Chicken that has been re-labeled by my father using a scrap of paper as a 'turkey'? Check
Sweet potatoes? No
Miniature sweet potatos because normal-sized ones are not to be found? Check
Brown sugar? No
"Brown" sugar? Check
Cranberry sauce imported from the States via my mother's suitcase? Check
Access to a live broadcast of this year's Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade? No
Access to an internet recording of last year's Macy's Parade? Check
Poor-quality internet streaming of It's a Wonderful Life? Check

I hope you are both enjoying turkeys and stuffing and Pilgrim-joy, or some similar substitutes should the situation arise. Now I would like to take a brief moment to tell a story of what transpired today, and also to demonstrate Why I Am Thankful for the American Higher Education System, Despite Its Fair Share of Flaws --

Unfortunately I had a class today that most distressingly disrupted my planned festivities with my family; my history class is from 4 until 6:30, right smack in the middle of our usual late-lunch / early-dinner eating period on holidays. Alas, I needed to go, as my strict academic professor takes attendance. So I puttered off on my bike at 3:45, having stuffed my gullet full of our small Thanksgiving dinner.

I arrived at the Palais Universitaire at 4:55, only to find a large crowd standing outside the steps of the front entrance. Confused, and wondering why that many people felt such a strong urge for a smoke break in the drizzly, damp weather, I walked through the crowd to the doors, only to discover -- they were locked. All of them. And there was a large crowd of students on the other side, stuck inside the building.

Guess who I saw, finally, after three weeks? Lauren! On the other side of the door! Stuck inside the building after her class got out! We mimed things through the door (it took me five minutes to convey "Happy Thanksgiving" to her), before Matt, another student in my class, showed up. We stood there aimlessly for about ten minutes, during which time I was handed a flier about the Loi LPU -- against the privatization of universities that the French government has proposed and that the students are protesting.

Our time was spent thinking, "Should we go? How long will this last? How long has it been going on? No one seems to be demonstrating anything? Did they really just lock all those people in the building? Our professor is probably still holding class. Tanks bulldozing the building wouldn't stop him. What do we do, we poor clueless foreigners? We are not a part of this!"

Finally Lauren called me, to tell me that she had escaped the building via a back door. We then walked around the building, practically SNUCK INSIDE through a door that a few other students were using, and walked up to our class, thirty minutes late. The professor made no remark, and a few students continued to trickle in as the minutes went by.

Just thirty minutes of lecturing later, an alarm all of a sudden sounded throughout the entire building. The French students groaned and began packing their stuff up. ("What's happening?!" my internal monologue pleaded.) One French student was explaining to someone else in our class that the alarm was set off by a student as a protest, or maybe to signal that they're going to start protesting. Or maybe it was the administration calling out, "Flee! Save yourselves!" The professor also began packing up his projector and computer, and said "Next week." We all left class. The bell was still ringing. We walked through the front doors (some student was holding them open for the exodus of students), where someone tried to give me another flier.

I decided to come home before I got locked in the building, an innocent bystander trapped in the crossfires of crazy student protesting. As I biked away, I saw police vehicles parked along the sidewalk, the policemen watching the students amassed in front of the building.

I think I'll go eat some more sweet potato soufflé.

Observations and general thoughts

I am freezing right now. Why you may ask? Because the Brits only let you keep your heater on for two hours in order to be environmentally friendly. Screw the environment. I've been sick since I got here and it is probably because I can't regulate my internal temperature. Oh joy. I also sleep with two blankets and a sleeping bag and I freeze to death, well almost, every night. I really can't convey how cold it is, but no one seems as bad off as I am; DC has taken my Ohio heartiness away.

Anyway, I have just finished all my papers for my classes (round 1 of 2), I think they weren't unmitigated disasters but they were done in my usual, oh it is fine to write it the night before style, so we shall see how they turn out. You both know that is my fatal flaw. I barely got any sleep the night before they were due because I got up extremely early to finish them. I was of course distracted by episodes of Full House, but I was able to ration myself by the end. Alison, have you finished yet? Isn't it amazing. Damn you Zhao, why did you get me addicted, I have little self control.

I have a rather uneventful social calendar, but last weekend,I went to a pub with a couple other georgetown kids and I baked cookies to get me into the good graces of the bar staff, which I did. We went out with three of them after the pub closed, so that was fun. Saturday morning a week ago I went to Borough Market, which is amazing. Anything food related that you could possible what is there, and it is so fresh and probably organic. I bought walnut bread and cheese that had apricot pieces in it and a mushroom pate which was beautiful tasting. I don't know if something can taste beautiful, but this would if it were possible. They guy that sold us bread was American and he told us the one place in London to buy Luck Charms, however aside from being really far away they will also cost 12 pounds a box, that is $24, and as much as I love processed sugar, I'm not that into them.

What else? I tried to bake brownies for my flatmate's birthday, but British ovens, or maybe just mine, heat from the sides and not form the top, so it was rather difficult to gage what was and was not done and it took me like an hour to make them, but they were heartily enjoyed by my flatmates along with some tea. Actually, we turned it into a Brownie cake, because I had wanted to bake a real cake, but the Brits dont' sell cake mix. I mean really, I've looked, I went to three stores, nothing. So I had to make do with that, which was part of the reason the whole process was ridicules.

Hum, what else. My arabic class is like a joke, my teacher last year would flip out if these people did what they do here in her class. You can't take five minutes to answer a question, there is no stalling, blah.

Oh, I just had fish and chips for dinner tonight for the first time. It was pretty good. I was tired after walking around all day, I went to the Tate modern and looked at art, and I wanted to go to this pub in Borough Market, but it was jam packed full of people, and I just didn't want to deal with that, so I found another one a little more out of the way that looked pretty reputable.

I really miss being able ot play the piano. That is killing me right now. Other than that I'm well. Zhao, I want an email or a post or something. Ali, I will see you in a week. That hotel you recommended looks fine and I will probably stay there...or on the street, whatever.
Miss you both,
Elle

Bar-th-elona

Hola amigas! I am somehow back from Spain unscathed, at least physically. How to describe Barcelona? To summarize my weekend to Spain, I have composed the following limerick for your amusement --

Last weekend I met several Spaniards
who more than lived up to my standards.
Sangria was imbibed
to enjoy the good times,
with laughter and tapas for all.

Okay, so that last line doesn't really work. But anyway, getting to Barcelona in the first place was quite an undertaking -- I biked to the tram station, took the tram to the train station (where I met my traveling companions, two Irish students from Dublin), took the train to Basel, took a bus from the train station to the airport, flew to Girona via Ryanair, took a bus from Girona to Barcelona, then the metro to our hostel. Amazingly, we executed all of these transitions flawlessly.

 Barcelona is a riot of colors -- the market Boqueria sums it up quite nicely. It's full of street performers all lining the huge boulevard Las Ramblas, stalls are thrown up at random points, people are everywhere, and lining the streets is some of the most brilliant architecture I have ever seen. I want a Gaudi house for myself, please.

I used my rusty Spanish several times, including at a night club called Razzmatazz (greatest name ever). I didn't quite adopt to Spanish customs in one weekend -- we three were the only ones in the restaurants eating at 7:30 each night -- although I did try a bit, such as the habit of staying out until six in the morning. I don't know how one makes a lifestyle habit out of that without dying, however.

Also, there are Dunkin' Donuts in Spain -- only called Dunkin' Coffee. Yum. (I mean, I of course only had authentic Spanish and Catalan cuisine while there.)

P.S. -- Eleanor, I await your fair presence in the Hexagon with a great deal of impatience!

Roadtrip part 3 : Buddha and pestilence

Ok: Hungary. I feel like we should have gotten the hint when we were turned around at one of the Austria-Hungary border crossings. It was completely deserted, except for some army vehicles off the road. We pulled up to the douane, and asked the man there if we could get our passports stamped. "Where are you from?" he asked. "Canada, the States, England, and Cyprus," we chorused. "No. This border is only for Austrians and Hungarians. Go back to the main highway."

We then waited at the main border crossing in the Non-EU line for about twenty minutes, as three cars ahead of us slowly progressed into the country. The EU line, despite having more cars, was passing by us at a rate of 5 EU cars : 1 non-EU car. However, we finally made it into the new country, and drove through the rolling, fog-shrouded hills of Hungary. We got to Budapest about two hours later, and of course got lost trying to find our hostel -- repeat: run to a hotel, get free map, finally get to hostel.

 Anyway, the city of Budapest is made up of the two halves Buda and Pest, which of course were then subjected to many jokes on our part. (The picture to the right is Pest, from Buda). We did the whole tourist thing: Parliament, 1956 Memorials, castles, churches (one included a mummified hand! it was all blinged out with jewels!). At times it didn't really feel like Central Europe, not even with the impossible street signs and metro stops I didn't even begin to know how to pronounce, being completely unfamiliar with Slavic languages. And then suddenly it would strike me -- like when we first saw the monument to the 1956 Revolutionists massacred when protesting Soviet occupation.

Budapest is also not as cheap as one would imagine. Shopping proved to be a rather disappointing affair; clothes were too ugly or too expensive but usually both, and most of the stores were sex shops anyway. In fact, the only thing that was cheap was food -- we had our first "real" meal of the week at a rather swanky restaurant. Three course meals for less than 15 euros each -- I felt giddy with nutrients. Especially considering that at our hostel, three pieces of bread and tepid coffee constituted breakfast. Also at dinner, being loud and rambunctious anglophones, we didn't heed the fact that everyone could understand us and had rather inappropriate and loud conversations. Two Belgians were distinctly eavesdropping on us the entire evening.

However, although Budapest was interesting enough, I was not upset to leave. For one thing, I felt very unsafe there. The streets were incredibly poorly lit at night, and coupled with the deserted feel of the city after dark, it gave off an ominous feeling. I feel like I missed a side of Budapest that you have to dig to get to, or that requires knowing someone who is familiar with the city.

However -- there was a problem with our leaving. We decided to make a small detour on the road home, but the misery that is Györ and Munich shall wait, my friends.

Lalalala

A link everyone should click on:
http://www.youtube.com/profile?user=GUHarmony

Rangila is this weekend and j'ai appris le subjonctif. How exciting!

Roadtrip part 2 : My Viennese Waltz

I shall resume roughly where we last left off : hurtling at dangerous speeds through the darkened Alps. We made it safely to Vienna, only to be lost in the twisting city streets; we pulled over at a gas station where a very kind Austrian man let us use his GPS to find our hostel. The hostel was, by the way, on top of a small mountain (what the Austrians call "a hill") and far, far away from the city. We chose it because of its parking for our precious Audi. We missed the hostel twice driving on the street, because it is hidden behind a palace (also known as a very expensive hotel) -- at first I was frightened that I had completely messed up the booking and put us in some overpriced gala. ("I swear it said only 20 euros a night!") It turned out our hostel is pretty much the servants' quarters of the place.

Anyway, we relaxed that night with beer and chips (not fries, Eleanor, in case the Brits have gotten to you with their lingo) before nodding off to sleep. We started off our day in Vienna by buying tickets to a concert from someone dressed in a Mozart-period costume -- the Viennese have a distinct talent for exploiting Mozart, and I love it. We then meandered around and ended up watching the Jugendstil Ankeruhr (a glockenspiel) at noon as twelve figures paraded past. Being as we were in Vienna, a café was absolutely necessary, so we decided to go all-out and splurge at Café Central, a café that boasts of patrons such as Beethoven, Freud and Trotsky. There I ordered a 6 euro Café Amadeus and an apple strudel, and planned a revolution.

Afterwards, we wondered about to famous places, like an old jousting square (of course I reenacted a jousting game with the help of a friend), and several churches, one of which had a very disturbing monument to the plague near it. We also spent a pleasant fifteen minutes watching Austrian street performers break dance and shout in English ("Show time!").

We also visited the Hapsburg's winter palace, but it required an entrance fee so we just stood there. We went across town to our concert, which was lovely -- it is said that even mediocre concerts in Vienna are above average, and I would not consider this mediocre at all. Then, since it was Halloween, we spent our time in an area known as Bermuda Triangle, where there are a large amount of bars within twenty paces.

That night, because we are poor students surviving via car in Central Europe, we forewent any hostel fees by sleeping in the car. Yes, that's right. We returned to the hostel parking lot, got out our sleeping bags, and piled into the Audi for the night; the woods were our bathroom. I'm sure we must have looked quite a sight to people the next morning, with the windows completely fogged up, leaving only a jumble of heads and limbs in odd positions all over the place. Anyway, we then sneaked back into the hostel and stole breakfast (as well as lunch) from them -- I think it perfectly justified as the breakfast was terrible for a 20-euro fee. It tasted wonderful when it was free, however. We also stole their washrooms to try and make ourselves look like we hadn't spent the evening drinking and then sleeping in a car.

 We then trekked through the city to find the Hapsburg's summer palace, which again required money. We instead rambled through the gardens. We finished our time in Vienna at Zentralfriedhof where we found the graves of Beethoven, Brahms, Schubert and Strauss. (Right = church at Karlsplatz)

We then regained the car and navigated our way through the city back to the autobahn. (By the way, while we were still in Vienna, stopped at a red light, I saw some strange guy on the corner of the sidewalk opposite. I watched, horrified, as he stood there, stuck his hands in his pants and unzipped, pulled out a clear plastic bottle, and peed into it. He then rezipped, readjusted, and continued standing there, not even having attempted to hide himself from any cars or pedestrians.) Next stop : Budapest.

à +
Alison

Roadtrip part 1 : Liechtenstein is small

Comrades,

I have once again resettled myself in my Strasbourg home after a rather surreal voyage, which will take me quite a while to recount to you, my enraptured audience. I was originally planning to go to Italy with three other friends for our week-long vacation, yet when we commenced searching for tickets, everything was far too expensive. As such, Aida suggested a road trip -- and some road maps later, we had planned it out ... more or less.

Firstly, because Germany is a great deal cheaper and more convenient for car rental, we rented our car from Baden-Baden, a short train ride from Strasbourg. Our car was an Audi A3 (yes, that's right -- I traveled through Europe in an Audi). After a period of five minutes trying to find out how to reverse the car, we then proceeded to get lost for another fifteen minutes. But then we were soon stretching our legs -- metaphorically speaking -- through the German autumn countryside.

Our first stop was the principality of Liechtenstein, home of the smallest German monarch in the world. Why Liechtenstein? Well, simply because we liked the name of it. We wanted to simply pull over in the first town we came to, Schaan, but while looking for a parking spot, we ended up in the capital of Vaduz. If that doesn't show how small the country is, nothing does. Typical Liechtenstein.

Next we made all possible haste to our next destination, Salzburg. However, apparently the sun sets at 5 o'clock in the territories of the Alps. As such, we were hurtling along to our destination in a shroud of black and a bit of gray thrown in at times, twisting and curving around sudden turns with absolutely no road lights. May I also state how much I dislike the highways of Europe? Granted, the autobahn can be superb, as when Kira reached driving speeds of 200 km/h (roughly 124 mph); however, there are absolutely no exit numbers, which can be quite confusing when you end up circling a city for an hour as you don't actually know which exit takes you to the actual city (but more stories of Munich to come). And in addition, the lack of lighting even in metro areas is rather disconcerting.

 We arrived in Salzburg, got lost a bit more, then pulled over at a hotel to ask for directions to our hostel (this becomes a pattern on this trip, as you shall see). We stayed in a hostel that plays The Sound of Music 24/7 to celebrate the influence of the city on the musical (I feel quite bad for the receptionist). As such, we spent our day in Salzburg tracing the steps of that splendid Rogers & Hammerstein jewel, as well as the path of the brilliance that is Mozart, who was born in Salzburg. Some sites included the garden with the famous Do Rei Mi fountain, which is the same garden where Mozart came up with the idea for The Magic Flute; there was also the convent where Maria was a novice; Mozart's birthplace, which is now a museum; and churches that had nothing to do with neither, but traveling any European country necessitates a lot of church-viewing. And despite a steady drizzle of rain (which, to throw some random trivia at you, frequently halted the filming of the Julie Andrews film), Salzburg is a rather lovely place.

Later that day, we continued onwards to Vienna, or Wien as the signs say -- good thing I read that on maps first or I would have been very confused. Though this shall be further detailed in my next segment -- stay tuned!

Miss you both --
Alison