snippet//no. 1

I began this blog mainly to share - photos, news, entertainment, thoughts, me - with those that cared to read about it. Setting up the website, I knew I would likely look back on the blog at the end of the year and realize it had become a journal of my adventures. I was counting on it -  Chronicles of a Small Life was meant to become the summary of my experiences in France. However, I wasn't counting on loving it so much and beginning to rely on blogging as a form of expression.

More recently, I've realized it's not just a vehicle to share my thoughts. A former French teacher wrote me after the Paris attacks, just checking in. Tucked in her email was something that struck me - she was looking forward to reading my reflections on my blog. I realized that my blog had become a tool for discovering my thoughts and processing them, not just sharing them.

That all being said, recent events in Paris have made me want to write. So much happened, and even a week later I haven't yet been able to sort it all out. I've already heard people say that 13 November is going to become my generation's 9/11 - it is the most horrific event we are conscious of - or that it will mark the start of World War 3. I'm not quite sure what to think quite yet, but I'm going to try to figure it out...and then share my experiences with you.

*one month*

Hello again, I'm back! As I shared before, I now get to blog for two platforms - this one (allllllll mine) and SYA's.... The prompt for the first month was "one month" (surprise, surprise) and I just sent in my submission - and wanted to share it with this blog as well. In the future, the posts that are for SYA will have their titles in between two asterisks (*title*) so you can tell wthem apart. I will also post the link to the other SYA campus bloggers as soon as it is posted... I hope you enjoy it!

One Month

I honestly can't wrap my head around the fact that I've already been in Rennes for a little more than a month, yet here I am trying to write a blog post about it. When I began thinking about the prompt, I realized that I'm stuck in a strange limbo - on one hand it feels as though I was in the US yesterday but on the other I feel as though I've been in Rennes forever. 

I keep waiting to wake up from this dream and go straight back to my every day routine, where school ends at 3:30 and my friends have know each other since before Pre-K. But then I remember the incredible situation I've landed in... Even though school here ends at 18h00 (that's 6 pm, a la française) I've already adjusted to the schedule - trust me I have no complaints about Wednesday and Friday half-days. I never thought it would happen, but Ive even found myself memorizing the bus schedule for my line - ligne 72 - and making it to the stop on time every day. 

The people I've met here are incredible, too. Just a few days ago my friends started to tell a story and then stopped when she realized we wouldn't understand the context - we hadn't been with her in her pre-SYA life when part one of the story took place. She then explained it all, and everyone ended up laughing, but for me the whole thing emphasized how quickly I was able to connect with my amazing new class mates. 

Other people, like my rowing team-mates and my host brothers, have been no different. Yesterday, at a discussion group at the Franco American Institute (if you're ever in Rennes, I highly recommend checking it out) my classmates and I exchanged stories with French kids our ages. The language obstacle certainly existed, but it disappeared when we all laughed about getting pushed off the metro at a stop or almost being late to school due to being trapped on the metro by a rainy day induced crowd. 

I really do think that my struggles to speak French have begun paying off, and language isn't the only thing that gotten easier - I feel like I've adjusted pretty well to Rennais life. I really do think that the entire class of 2016 has a metamorphosis of sorts - were certainly not the same scared kids that met for the first time in the Boston airport. We've all had crazy adjustment experiences, and it certainly hasn't always been easy, but in the end it all ends up beings either a learning experience or a funny story to tell to people back home, or both. Just in the first month, there have already been so many incredible thing that I can't not be super excited for the rest of the year. I'm about to head off on a trip to the Loire valley with all my classmates, which promises to be the next on my list of incredible French experiences...I can't wait to write about them all. Until next time, xoxolu. 

leaving home

The start of my adventure seemed silent, mostly ignored.  

I pretended I wasn't leaving on the morning of the fourth. I woke up in Richmond, Va and the thought fleetingly crossed my mind that it would be my last time doing so for quite a long time. I quickly pushed it away, threw my bags in the car with about as much interest as a school pack, and drove my sisters to school. 

Walking to Thursday morning advisory I ran into a friend, hugged, chatted and said "see you later." We both ignored my upcoming departure and I continued walking up the stairs. Only minor differences, like the lack of a dress code applicable to me, betrayed the fact that I was not an ordinary St. Catherine's student that morning. 

My best friend started crying at the end of advisory, not in the loud heaving way but just some extra tears and flushed cheeks. I gave her a huge hug and walked to class with her but I didn't cry. I said goodbye and walked off with another girl without too much thought. I was still ignoring reality.

I walked home and repacked my bags. My grandma asked why I would talk all my clothes out of the suitcase at the last minute and I replied that I still had plenty of time. 

My mom came to pick me up and we drove to the airport, then flew to Boston. We arrived at the hotel where she'd stay that night and happened to meet the Director of the program in the lobby. Departing for France still seemed a distant thought, not entirely certain. Going through the security line at the airport, laden with bags, I realized I was leaving on an adventure without my mother. Even so, it felt more like heading off for a weekend with a cousin than the beginning of an exceptional year. 

Just beyond the metal detectors teenagers sporting matching name tags crowded together, conversations blurring together loudly. Deciding whether they were old friends or just nervous could have posed some difficulty, but I knew these were my future class mates. We headed off in groups for a last American meal and slowly began to get to know each other. 

We were loud and obnoxious, but not too different from the rest of the people in the Boston airport with us. On the plane we all located our seats and then slept, fitfully. I woke up to a french stewardess announcing breakfast, but an english version of the message followed. We were all very much still within our comfort zones. 

As we exited the plane the huge group reformed, a cloud of American teenagers working it's way through the customs lines. We followed the lead of those in front of us and arrived at the baggage claim. It was then that I began to realize I was no longer at home.

The mass of teenagers collecting mountains of luggage stood out. Not only were we many and very loud, we spoke a different language amongst ourselves. The signs, announcements and other travelers all were in french: we spoke english and nervous laughter. 

On the bus ride I slept. I woke up for lunch and noticed the french signage all around me. We worked our way north to Rennes to meet our host family. There was an odd feeling of being a lost puppy as I stood in a crowd waiting for my family to appear. An odd mixture of french and english surrounded me as people tried to find each other in the narrow alley in front of my new school. 

I got in the car, rode home and became quiet. I adapted by listening and watching, following the schedule of those around me. I rode the metro with my host mom and just looked around me, or out the window on the bus. I walked to school quietly, observing the streets. I failed to think about the changes as they occurred and instead was struck at odd times by overwhelming surprise. 

Riding alone on the bus for the first time an odd isolation made me consider where I was. Everyone around me spoke a language different from the one I was so accustomed to living in.

Emerging from the metro to gorgeous buildings, cobbled streets and dormant cafes struck me again. Traffic circles instead of stop lights at intersections. Arriving home from orientation, exhausted from silent translation all day reminded me again of the adventures ahead. 

The whole time incredible things were happening, and I slowly emerged from my protective stance of listen and watch. I told a story at dinner and forgot that it took me three times as long as it would have taken my host brother. I asked a french student in the cafeteria line behind me what was for dessert and understood easily when he replied. I went out for an afternoon of adventuring and ordered macarons without misunderstandings. A week later I am still far from native, but I think I've begun to settle in.

feeling useless//intro

^ a typical failed attempt at me+pony self portraiture 

This summer I've been nannying my little cousins which has proven to be extremely action packed and tiring at times. However, I occasionally find myself technically babysitting but in reality sitting in a foreign kitchen while my little charges play at a friends house, just waiting for them to cross the street and come home. Right now is one of these types of situations, and trust me I've rarely felt more useless. However, this time I've decided to take the opportunity to introduce myself a bit more properly. I wanted to get the blog running, but in doing so failed to post any sort of introduction, so here goes... Amongst friends I go by Lu, which is the name I'll go by on the blog. I currently live in Richmond, Virginia (USA) but am only three weeks away from moving to Rennes, France for the school year. I am still in high school, so I live at home with my family/host family next year! I have two younger sisters that I spend plenty of time with, so they will probably make frequent appearances on the blog. I also really enjoy riding horses, and my primary sport is rowing crew. I used to play the harp, and even though I don't play very much any more I definitely still love music. Art also appears frequently in my life, so that will likely appear on th blog as well. At the start of the summer I began a blog with two friends (urbanxescapades) in order to keep track of adventures, but realized it wasn't the best platform for blogging about my more mundane activities... Hence the birth of Chronicles of a Small Life! Here I hope to share my life in a digital diary type of format, but with an emphasis on memories and adventures I find especially interesting, typical of my life or otherwise worth sharing. I don't have a theme for the blog so it may be a bit random at times, but I'll try to keep it organized and coherent, and most importantly enjoyable! As the blog progresses you'll likely learn not only about my adventures, but also about me which will hopefully add to the overall experience. I hope you enjoy, and as always comment/email (hello@chroniclesofasmalllife.com) to send in anything you'd like to share!