Part 2...the War Memorial at Caen

(The Hawker Typhoon 1B from the RAF 184th Squadron; shot down on June 7, 1944 by antiaircraft guns during an attack on German rail convoys in Mézidon station. Pilot: Flight Sergeant J.J. Rowland, aged 23, killed.)














Le Mémorial de Caen was built in order to remember and honor to a bloody past, as well as show the chance for a brighter future in their hall Des Mondes pour la paix (Some Worlds for Peace). On the outside of the building is the phrase "La douleur m'a brisée, La freternité m'a réveilée, De mon blessure a jailli un fleuve de liberté." (The pain broke me, Fraternity lifted me, From my wound flowed forth a river of freedom.)

It's hard to decribe the whole experience at the museum, but safe to say, there wasn't enough time alotted for it. The two major wings of history are devoted to World War II and the Cold War.

For the Second World War, the visit starts with the "Failure of Peace" during the years leading up to war.

This part is also known as "The March Towards War". Next comes "France in the Dark Years", followed by "Deportation and Genocide", "The Eastern War", "World War, Total War" and ties into the Cold War section with "From One War to Another".
There were letter and diarys from dead soldier, blown-up pictures of Russian resistence fighters being hung, and countless faces of the dead on both sides of the combat. If anyone ever gets the chance to visit France, this should be at the top of the list. It's not the easiest place to visit, everyone that I saw that day had a few streaks running down there cheeks where tears had been, but not every holiday needs to be light and cheerful.

(Working on part 3 of the trip)

Ring my bell

This part of the weekend excusion to Normandy will have its own post on the blog because in relation to the other places visted it just doesn't fit in so well.

We left pretty early in the morning and I was lucky to go at all. Turns out my bad luck with alarm clocks continues. I now know to doublecheck the A.M and P.M. very carefully. (Almost a very boneheaded mistake.)

Anyways, speaking of clocks, the first stop on the Normandy road trip was to a clock making shop (un fonderie) in Villedieu-les-Poêles. Apparently there are only about 30 shops that continue this trade. Some of these bells were upwards of 500 kilos, while others could fit in the palm of your hand. And the technique for making them hasn't really changed since the Middle Ages.

Here are a few other pictures of what this shop can make:


Stay tuned...

I haven't dissappeared

Sorry for the long interuption in the blogging process.
I'm going to place the blame on 2 things:
1) Classes started (and let me tell you something, the system over here is mind-boggeling. I'll say more about that later)
2) The batteries in my camera died, so I haven't got my pictures from this past weekend...still haven't got batteries so the next post will be pictures and captions.
***

I would like to take a minute to talk about the university and the process of signing up for classes. Holy crap. Classes, their locations and times, didn't get posted until the Friday before they actually started, which was the following Monday. People are running around trying to figure out if they can sign up for a class or if the professor is even going to teach it.

After the classes were posted, the next problem is trying to figure out where they actually are taking place. Turns out, it's not surprising to miss a good portion of classes the first week or two. This also applies to some professors. I've missed 2 classes so far and have been late to 2...mostly not my fault. The tardies were my problem.

Here's a run-down of my classes for this semester:
1)Study of the language and agrumentation (non means non, except when it means oui)
2)Oral Expression (learn how to string words together)
3)Comprehension for written expression (finally get to improve my written French)
4)Oral Compression (figure out what the hell everyone is saying)
5)Literature (required class, but I like this kind of sutff)
6)Civilization (So I shouldn't ask for ketchup with my escargot?)
7)Translation (being an anglo-phone finally has a perk)
8) Russian grammer (being taught in French, mind you, which is a real bender for the brain)


In short, I'll be pretty busy this year. I placed into Avancé and I'm going for the diplôme that they offer here. It's a lovely piece of paper that looks good on a résumé or a CV. Next semester should be a little more easy-going.

Got to run to a meeting. More stuff to come.

Ciao!

Da plane, boss! Da plane

For the rest of this weekend, Rennes will be covered in the rumblings of the jets from the airshow. They even have one of them displayed in the square in front of the Parliament building. Today, I counted 8 jets as the passed overhead in tight formation.


To finish up this little post, there's also this little baby, down below, hanging out in a metro stop.
Over and out.

This weekend and some other stuff

Bonjour, salut and hey there-

This weekend I'll be wondering around Normandy with the CIEE group, causing all sorts of trouble. Just kidding...trouble just seems to find me.
We'll be heading to the D-Day beaches and a few museums. Pictures will be posted as long as I'm clever enough to remember my camera.
**
As for tonight, it should be a night to remember. France is now going head-to-head against Ireland. It's been pretty interesting watching the French commentary. When they lost to Argentina (17-12), they were surprised. When they spanked Namibia (87-10), they knew it would happen and that the momentum of the win will carry the team to victory against Ireland.

Now, I don't want to be the "nay-sayer" but Namibia is not one of those countries where people think "Now there's a country known for having an excellent rugby team". Ireland, however, is saturated in rugby love along with Guinness, scenic vistas and sheep. (That link is a two-for-one deal.)

I will be in town at O'Connell's Pub tonight for the game and throwing back a couple "blondes with black skirts".

Sláinte!

Always trying new things

I can't be accused of not taking advantage of the opportunities here.

Starting next week I'll be starting in on extra-corriculars.

Tuesdays: Breton dance
Wednesdays: Judo

Above is a picture of Teddy Riner kicking some ass in Rio de Janiero. He took home the gold medal for France in the World Championships. He only 18 years old and at the top of his game.

I know that a couple of semester's worth of practice won't put in Teddy's league. But I'm hoping, should it happen, that I can hold my own against this kid.
Not making any promises though.

Ciao et bises!

My new best friend...

CIEE has been great about prepping our group for entrence into a French university. We've been spending mornings at the Language and Communication School and afternoons learning about French culture and civilization. It's been a little tedious at times but for the most part it's been great.

The last major group event happened this afternoon. A sommelier caviste came into the classroom, along with 40 glasses and 9 bottles of wines. Jean-Pierre Lacluze, you are my new best friend.

He walked us through the basic wine-making process and the unthinkably complex knowledge required for tasting the wine. But he was able to sum it up with, "Each wine tells a story about its orgins, 'education' and maturation, all you have to do is listen." He also imparted the wise words of "No one will say you're wrong if you smell white florals in the white wine or red fruit in a red wine." Smart guy.

One last quote, in respose to which was his favorite wine, "It would have to be the one that is your own personal favorite. As for me, I have many good memories."Looking back on it, this guy was a fountain of quotes. I can't wait to pay him a visit.

Ciao et bises!

Some meaningful symbols...

The triskel ("three branches") is one of those beautiful Celtic symbols that pops up everywhere, especially for Fest Noz and Deiz. There is so much Celtic influence on this region that it's not wonder that the majority of tattoos spotted have been in that vein. The history behind this symbol, as explained by a true Bretonne, is that each branch represents a different element; earth, fire and water.


The Hermine has been the mark of nobility and royalty since around 1209 AD. You can find it on the flag of Bretagne (next image), any Fest Noz or Deiz poster, state building and flyers asserting and independant Brittany. Here's hoping that the revolution doesn't happen quite yet.
Last, but not least, the flag of Bretagne. The final thing left to mention is that Bretagne in the Breton language is Breizh. If anyone gets to chance to visit France, put a trip to Brittany at the top of your list. This goes double for seafood and cider lovers. Though I'm not sure that I would try them in that combination.

Ciao et bises!

Duchess Anne remembered...

Yermat! (Cheers in Breton)

You haven't partied till you've gone to a Fest Noz

Last night, my host mother and my friend Megan, another CIEE student, got to experience a Fest Noz. The whole experience was mind-blowing.

A little background info...

There are 2 types of Breton parties; Fest Noz (Night Festival) and Fest Deiz (Day Festival). The idea behind it, is that the whole community gathers together in order to stomp down the earth floor in new buildings. Musicians helped give the group a beat to follow and set dance patterns developed. The dances are usually lines of people or circles and they just keep going and going.

°°°

So we got there at 9:30 or so and didn't leave until 3 in the morning. I've never seen so many middle-aged people and older (there were a few grandparents) rocking out till that early in the morning. My host mother was going strong all night long.

There were 5 different groups that played that night. The varied from very traditional, where there were 2 women singing, to a crazy mix of techno and Celtic. If you go to http://www.deezer.com/ and type in "fest noz", you can get an idea of what we were dancing to.

Also, being a true Breton event, there was no lack of hard cider, beer or crêpes. All were delicious. :)
Ciao et bises! (Unfortunately, the pictures I took at the Fest Noz didn't come out well, so here are some web stand-ins.)

A little bit of info about Bretagne

A couple days ago, I had a culture and civilization class about the history and geography of Bretagne and it's like nowhere else in the world. Here are the cliffnotes.


The history is goes back thousands of years, when ancient tribes left their mark by arranging huge stones in geometric patterns. Appartently stone hauling was a booming business way back when.

Next come the Romans with their straight Roman roads. In 56 BC, Julius Ceasar conquered the area and it became known as Armorica (the Celtic word for "coastal region"). The Romans eventually left and the early Middle Ages started. During this time period, people from England started arriving, in order to flee the invading Saxons. It took a little while to settle down but in the end Armorica became Breton. It had its own language, traditions and in 895 AD, Niminoe became the first king of the Bretons.

While Breton had its own regency, it was known as the Duchy of Bretagne. Over the next few hundred years things went on as things do. There was a line of succesion, assassinations, revolts, Hundred Years' War, and so on.

After more than 500 years of independant rule, Bretagne hit a snag. In 1488 the last Duke of Bretagne was pressured, by the French army and a few thousand mercenaries, into giving the French king the power to marry off his oldest daughter, heir to the duchy. Duchess Anne was married off first to the very old King of France at the age of 16. He died soon afterwards, leaving no heirs. So, following tradition, Anne marries the next king of France.

She is the last independent rule of Britagne. After her death, her daughter marries in the next line of French kings with the duchy as a wedding dowery. What a gift. After this Britagne becomes a part of France, though there have been movements in the middle of the century to change this.

That's all for now. Stay tuned for stories and pictures from Fest Noz tomorrow night.

Ciao et bises!

Day at the Beach

On Sunday, September 9, my family and I hopped in the car with a picnic and took off on an hour’s drive to the coastal city of St. Malo. This city is drop-dead gorgeous.
The weather started off a little gray, but as we got closer to the sea, the sky turned into a clear blue. After buying a couple baguettes, we headed for la Plage du Nicet. This little inlet in the coastline is protected from the strong winds felt on the other beaches, but still has plenty of room for all the people.

Now, anyone who’s been to Maine can picture exactly how “refreshing” the water was. Don’t be deceived by the clear, turquoise waters. It was a touch brisk. After a good 30 minutes of inching up to my waist, while having a lovely conversation with my host-mother, I became ready to dive in.

All in all, it was pretty much perfect. We finished up the day with a visit to the old, cobble-stoned city center and a beer at the Bieristotherapeute (beer, food and therapy all in one spot). After a half-pint of “therapy” in us, we hit the dusty trail.

Ciao et bises!

Now that's a church...

Last Thursday, the group piled on a less-than-comfy bus with all of our luggage and beat feet out of Paris for the quiet city of Chartres. After about an hour and a half of trying to maximize comfort, we arrived.

I can’t stress this enough to those who haven’t seen it, but Chartres is huge. Much larger, in fact, than Notre Dame de Paris (this was later confirmed by the tour guide). And as it happened, our guide turned out to be the one and only Malcolm Miller, who also happened to be my mother’s tour guide when she visited at the age of 18. He’s been there for 50 years and, according to him, will be there till Judgment Day.

Here’s one of the statues that’s carved into the side of the church. It’s of a baby Virgin Mary and her mother Saint Anne. Mary lost her head during the revolution, as heads were wont to do.

The cathedral is beautiful, with amazing craftsmanship in every angle. Mr. Miller was right when he said that an hour tour couldn’t do it justice, we only nicked the surface. But we had to pile back on the bus and get on our way to Rennes, where our host families would be waiting. (The wine at lunch helped facilitate a nap.)

Ciao et bises!

Rue de la Soif

I've made an important discovery that any university student should make. Turns out on off the main squares in Rennes has a street nicknamed "rue de la soif" running through it. There are no less than 40 bars in this little section.

I've made the trip two times now and it is crawling with activity. It's also a great places to spot some key cultural differences. First off, everyone takes time to "faire les bises". These sweet little pecks on the cheak can take a little while as everyone must do it to everyone along with any new addition to the group.

(N.B. Not sure who the people in the photo are. All my photos are on my laptop.)

Another little note is how familiar guy friends are when hanging out together. There was one guy dressed in ladies clothing, but that was only to show the owner of the skirt that he could pull it off. A couple other guys made the point of giving a little peck on the lips after each cheers (I lost count early on).

The other funny part of the night was when they found out I was American. (O! You are American girl!) That led to a demonstration in just how many English profanities they knew and which hip-hop groups I knew.

For the record, 2 of the guys would to mention that French guys are very cute, should any of my friends back home be curious.

Today I'm going with my family to St. Malo, on the coast. There'll be more pictures next post.

Ciao et bises!

France vs. Argentina

Argh! How could France lose with this guy on their side?

Oh well...tomorrow these guys are playing. Go team :-)

Je commence à vivre la vie en rose…

Paris is amazing. I can’t walk 5 feet without bumping into some amazing piece of architecture that was erected by King “So and so” XIII, with an addition made in honor of this alliance.

Our group, of about 40 students, has been staying at the Hotel de Fauconier in the section of Paris that is known at Le Marais. The first day contained three huge tours of Paris, two with a couple people from the group and one all together.

1st Walk: Notre Dame de Paris. Le Jardin des Tuileries. Le Louvre (just the outside this time). Avenue des Champs Elysées. L’Arc de Triomphe. Place de La Concorde. (Very long walk.)






2nd Walk: A guided tour of Le Marais with une très sympa femme. She took us around the Quartier showing how the today's Paris mixes with the Paris of the Middle Ages.





3rd Walk: Le tour Eiffel. Le Tocadéro. My friends and I became experts at brushing off the dozens of guys selling miniature Eiffel Towers.






In between the 2nd and 3rd walks, the whole group went on a “Bateau-Mouche”, which takes you past all the major sights of Paris on the Seine. We motored past couples dancing to a little band next to the river, under a bridge that’s dedicated to wishes and kisses, and some Jacques Schmo urinating on the embankment. Romantic, romantic, daily life.


All I wanted at the end of this day was a crêpe and a foot rub.


Historical sights seen: Countless
Eiffel Tower Souvenirs: 0
Crêpes: 1
Foot rubs: 0

Bonjour et Bises from Paris!

This born-and-raised Vermonter has finally busted out of life in the states and has seen two whole new countries. Well, the capital cities at least. Before diving into the details about the time spent in Paris, I would like to share a little bit about the actual trip. Turns out, each leg was special in its own way.

1st Leg: Burlington to New York City

The actual flight was pretty run-of-the-mill, but I did learn that whatever the flight attendant says goes. A man from the back of the plane wanted to check on his son (about 5 or 6) in the front of the plane. This would’ve been okay had he not done it while the plane was taxing around on the ground, waiting for a gate to free up. Both he, along with the rest of the plane, learned that if you piss of the flight attendant than the air marshals will be waiting to personally escort you to another part of the airport.

2nd Leg: New York City to London

This was a pretty interesting part of the trip made possible by Air India. The good news about this trip was making friends with a cool woman, Philippa, from the UK, who was on her way back from a 3-month stint at a Jewish sport’s camp in Pennsylvania. Now the reason we got to become buddy-buddy was because we had the time to. Our lovely carrier was delayed 5 hours (2 a.m.). So, with 8 hours to kill, a new friend was made.

On a side note, Phillipa and I almost saw a riot go down, as a portion of the 800 or so passengers rushed the gate when the huge effing plane arrived. Philippa seconds that statement. Cheers.

(Picture 1: Phillipa and I, post-Atlantic flight. Picture 2: People rushing the gate when the plane finally arrived. Picture 3: The huge effing plane.)


3rd Leg: London to Paris

This leg was cool because I got to go through the chunnel on one of the high-speed trains and I got to sit next to another cool person. It turns out that his name is Owen Slot and he’s a famous sports writer in London, with a couple of books under his belt. He was on his way to cover the upcoming Rugby World Cup, so we had plenty to talk about.

P.S. After hearing about the games and matches that he’s covered, I’ve now begun to entertain the idea of learning how write articulately about big, burly men knocking the crap out of each other with every ruck.


Hours traveling: ~33
Air Marshals: 2
Near riots: 1
Duty-free items consumed before reaching destination: 1
Baggage lost: 0
Finally passing out on a bed: Priceless