*Taking Advantage of Proximity*

My year abroad has taken me far away from home, but at the same time has brought me far closer to certain things. I'm closer to knowing what I want to be when I grow up, who I am. I'm closer with my American family in certain ways, despite the distance. I've become close with my French family. I am closer to French cultural and linguistic fluency. The list goes on and on, but recent events make me want to mention one specific thing - being in France has brought me closer to so many undiscovered places. 

I've visited Paris, somewhere that used to be a faraway fairytale but is now only a few hours away. I traveled to Prague, and didn't even change time zones. I've been to so many fantastic French cities that before we're not even a part of my imagination, but now are practically in my backyard. I'm planning my spring break with a friend, and we're talking about going to Barcelona because it's "close." Currently, I'm riding the train home from Luxembourg. 

I list all of this not to make you jealous , but because I am realizing the immense fortune I have to be so close to such a diverse array of places. My trip to Luxembourg truly emphasized this idea - I was there for a Global Issues Network conference. The conference was absolutely incredible - student run, with fascinating keynote speakers and student presentations. But despite the incredible innovations and ideas shared with me, what really struck me was the diversity of origins. I was there from France, but also as an American. In many settings, this would be considered confusing or abnormal. 

At GIN, my peers were of Spanish-French origin studying in Switzerland - to give one example. SYA Italy - formerly a distant group of similarly minded students - attended as well. (Getting to meet some of them was incredible and a bit surreal!) Me being nearly trilingual was average. Students from Dubai, Turkey, all over the European Union had assembled with as much nonchalance as a group of east coast American schools. However, this group of schools offered most valuably, in my opinion, the incredible wealth of knowledge and world perspectives that this facilitated. One of the most discussed topics was the refugee crisis - and we had the opportunity to discuss it with asylum seekers in Luxembourg , as well as Germans and Greeks, some of the key players, not to mention so many other perspectives. Each of the different perspectives enriched the conversation immensely, even though the opinions were very different at times. The unique mix caused so many stories were told and fascinating discussions to develop - I have never been so inspired by people my own age.

The train ride to these inspiring conversations took only a few hours, yet upon arrival I was immersed in a different culture and a completely different atmosphere thoughtful discussion. I felt truly lucky to be so close to such a diverse group of students that allowed for multifaceted discussions. Europe seems special to me in that it contains so many unique cultures in such close proximity. For me, the conference truly highlighted this. In the few short months I have left, I look forward to continuing to explore my new country and continent - and I encourage any one else that has the opportunity (at you , SYA class of 2017) to do the same.

SYA Blog - March Post 

***photos and more thoughts on the conference will appear soon

Travel's Gifts to Me // English Class

  Few people are lucky enough to have flown thousands of miles in before their first birthday but I was born into a charmed existence and became a worldwide traveler even before I was born. Ever since then, I've been lucky enough to spend at least a month each year away from home but I've only recently realized how much I've taken my adventures for granted. Most of the time I revisit the same places and at this point they've I've become far too passive - even a place with the familiarity of a second home is worth keeping my eyes open for but I'm only now realizing this. 

I am almost three months into my year abroad - my greatest adventure yet - and I worry that I'll allow myself to fall into the same trap again. It took me some time and a very odd situation to even acknowledge this possibility : I've never been fond of surprises and I think I'm not alone when I say I hate making mistakes but I've found that my new home is full of opportunities for both. My most rewarding experience so far was a combination of the two - missing the bus and then realizing the sensation wasn't all that unpleasant.

An odd sort of entrapment occurred when you miss your bus. You can't go anywhere but at the same time you have nothing to do because you were all prepared and planning to do something else. I found myself sitting on a bench for fifteen minutes with nothing to do other than think about my new life, family and friends. Certainly not the most comfortable, of experiences but certainly enriching. I thought about the characters in my daily life and the strength and speed of the bonds I have already formed surprised me yet again and then made me think about how much I'm missing out on in my former life. But for me, the most bizarre part of the experience were the minutes I spent thinking about myself. Self centered, I know, but as I tried to compare current me to pre-travel me I realized some surprising things about myself.

I've always been intrigued by how other people would describe me, simply out of curiosity, but I've come to accept that I'll probably never know. I do however know how they interact with me directly. My empty time at the bus stop gave me time to compare my friendships in the US to those here and it made me realize where I've changed and where I've stayed the same. Some things are superficial, like my new found ability to wear something other than pajamas when I get dressed in the morning, but others scared me a bit. I realized that elements of my character - me, myself and I - had changed. Leaving "home" caused the changes and then gave me the perception to see them. In all honesty, it was a bit frightening.

thoughts//missing the bus

(^this place exists and I got to go...st malo is a gorgeous walled city just an hour away from where I live...and yes I know it's unrelated)

A little over two months, 64 days... When I look at it in just numbers it doesn't seem like much but in terms of memories it feels infinite. I know I've said it before, but I am still stuck in a bit of an in between situation - my time in Rennes feels very long short. I've certainly adapted quite a bit to my new home and though you'd never find me in public transportation at home the bus has become a habit here...but not quite a mastered art yet. I don't exactly have hope that I'll ever get it perfect since my brother hasn't done it yet, and he's lived here all his life, but that doesn't mean I wouldn't like to try. 

I'm writing this on my phone at a bus stop, so as you can guess I'm waiting. This time it's because I arrived a few minutes before the bus was scheduled to but sometimes I find myself waiting at the bus for a less glamorous reason - I missed the bus I meant to get on.

 

The first time it happened I almost cried...the first day of school, the first time that I had to get myself somewhere, my first chance to prove myself capable of living in Rennes and I had failed. I clung to a few desperate shreds of hope as I ran flat out towards the 72 bus , then watched it let out a gentle "pshh" and roll away. A few heavy footfalls and I was back to walking, then just standing staring at the stop, checking the schedule for the next bus. I called the director and (almost crying) told him I'd be late. I made it to school only a few minutes late to first class, but I was not even a little happy to have it happen. To be honest, I thought about giving up right then. 

I took a few more missed busses and disappointment but I eventually realized that perhaps I was looking at the situation in the wrong light. Maybe missing my bus was more positive than negative... With the exception of weekends, my bus comes frequently enough that missing it means only a few minutes of tardiness, less if I've scheduled in extra time. In the grand scheme of things, being a few minutes late to lunch or class or a study sesh really doesn't matter. 

Even more importantly, the few minutes that I lose on one end translate into something beautiful on the other end. About a month into the school year I found myself sitting at a bus stop, waiting for the next bus to arrive when I realized that I was letting my mind wander. I had ten minutes to spend on whatever I wanted, without anything else scheduled in its place or demanding my attention. I realized how insanely busy I'd been and how comparatively calm and precious these few minutes at the bus stop were. I have no plans of deliberately missing my bus anytime soon but I now see the rare occasions as an unexpected gift of time- time to just think about anything, everything or nothing.

People say that you do all your best thinking in the shower but I would argue that the bus stop is an even better place - there is no risk of getting shampoo in your eyes. 

welcome to the fam//superquick

Hello again! This is going to be yet another teeny post (school has started again and life is crazy) but I have to share... I haven't talked much about my host family but they are an absolutely key part of my experience. I knew from my first day in my new home that they were adopting me as one of their own - mainly because my two brothers immediately began messing with me exactly like real siblings. I was also given free rein in the kitchen, which is huge for someone who loves food as much as me. I felt right at home when I got stuck in Rennes and my big brother came to pick me up in under ten minutes with absolutely zero complaints and each time a family member invited me to come along on some adventure with them. Throughout these past two months I have truly been welcomed into the family ... But tonight I way reminded of exactly how much so. 

Let me first say that you should never, NEVER let your brothers draw all over your back with pen. Of course, this sounds fairly straightforward, but there's more. I got a fantastic ball point tattoo right before dinner (courtesy of two fantastic in house artists) and in the hopes of not holding up the meal decided to stub it off later. After dinner, there was a soccer game. I didn't have any homework so I decided to join my brothers in watching Paris v. Madrid, from start to finish of course. In those ninety three minutes (overtime!) some thing magical occurred...the seemingly harmless blue pen ink turned into a transfer tattoo...and it transferred in all its magnificence right into the beautiful white leather couch I was snuggled into. After the game ended, everyone got up and I just happened to glance down and notice the massive bright blue stain on the formerly pristine couch. 

I wanted to melt into the floor and never wake up, but of course that was not an option. 

My ever helpful brothers laughed as I pointed it out to the parents and I watched with absolute terror as the stain refused to come out. Four products later, bunches of scrubbing and an unhealthy dose of stress later the couch returned to white. In the time it took to clean up the mess I mentally prepared myself to fly back home and call this year abroad a failure. The mere fact that I am still alive makes me think that my host family is truly magnificent, but the fact that they laughed and teased and somehow made me feel less guilty in the process made me realize just how special they are. I've been welcomed into other people's homes and even families before, but this French adoption truly astounded me. By no means were any of my family members required to take me in and accept me as one of their own, but they did wholeheartedly. I still can't quite believe my luck. 

That is all for tonight, I hope I was able to provide some laughs but also some appreciation for fantastic humans (all of them!). Night night, xoxo lu. 

in hopes of amusement // learning curve

^Quality pre-school moka in funky cafe lighting...the pain au chocolate was so good I ate it before I thought to take a picture...

Of course, being in a new country isn't easy... I know I have tons more to learn about French culture but I've already had a few major learning experiences. I thought I'd share them with you so that perhaps you can learn and laugh along with my beginner mistakes!

Firstly, the French don't hug. Everyone knows this already probably...but I forgot the customary double kiss on the first day. So of course my host brothers hug exaggeratedly now (sometimes) to poke fun.

Secondly, they use bowls to drink their coffee. This I already knew, but (it may just be my family) when I asked for a bowl to eat my cereal with milk then looked concerned... Apparently they eat it straight out of the bow except : 

Thirdly... They don't eat a full dinner on Sunday! I was so confused, but I actually enjoy the idea quite a bit. There was cereal with milk in bowls, as well as toast and butter and jam...or "tartines". It was quite tasty and I look forward to next Sunday evening, although I will be sure not to repeat my mistake of only eating a small salad for lunch.

Last point. Yesterday was my first day riding the bus to school on my own... Major learning curve opportunity. I forgot that even when stops are super close to each other, busses only stop at certain stops. This means you should always always check if the number bus you want stops there. Needless to say, I forgot. To make a very scary nerve wracking experience into a short story, I was late to my math placement test... Thankfully for the excellent public transport system here I was only ten minutes late but I promise I won't make the same mistake again!

That is all for now, although I know there's bound to be more similar experiences to come...and of course I'll share them! I apologize for the time between posts but there is just so much to see and do! Blog more soon. Xoxo lu.