French Films, Lady Liberty, and Ireland

Alright, here’s my next heroic effort at writing a lot. I don’t know that it will come to much. My host family has decided that to learn French better, I ought to watch a movie every day in French, so I’ve started doing it (with French subtitles, although it only works for French made movies. For some reason they don’t match the subtitles to the dubbed version of the movie. You would think it would be harder to translate the whole movie twice, but I guess not… or something?). It’s been a lot of fun. I had the mistaken impression that all French movies were dark and depressing and sad, but I was mistaken. We just finished a comedy about a police officer whose daughter steals a car that has a Rembrandt in the back of it, then he gets caught red-handed trying to return it (and looks like he’s stealing it in the process) then it turns out that the guy he was supposedly stealing it from stole it in the first place, so the police officer goes from the dog house to being a hero (with a parade, even. I thought the parade was a bit much—I mean, honestly, I’m not sure I’d attend a parade for a police officer who saved a stolen painting. Maybe that’s what makes the French French, and me… not French).

So, today we went on another walk (I’ve done 15 of the 21 now, so I’ll be completely done in a little while. Then I think I’m going to spend my time wandering through the Louvre and sitting in parks or cafes enjoying France. It’s not any sort of a race, but the walks are great ways to see things, so I’ve just done a lot of them). We went to a nice, large park, where they have the model of the Statue of Liberty that France built for the United States. Now, you may be thinking that you saw that statue in National Treasure 2, and if you just thought that I’m sorry, but you’re totally wrong. My world was shattered when I discovered that there is not one, nor are there two, but three Statues of Liberty standing in the world. We saw the other one yesterday on another walk (which is in the middle of the Seine on an artificial island built to protect the river). Then there is one in the Garden of Luxemburg. What a crazy, liberated world we live in. I suppose I’ll have to split my affections between the three Lady Liberties… or would it be Ladies Liberty? It almost certainly would not be Lady’s Liberty, although I wholeheartedly support and encourage that, too.

Also, it turns out I am going to Ireland tomorrow, and I will try to remember to bring my phone (so, if you’re trying to get a hold of me you will be able to, but it’ll be ridonkulously expensive for me, since I’ll be out of France). We’re going to Shannon Ireland. I think I had heard of it before I bought the tickets (or at least I know some folks named Shannon, and I had a vague idea that it was an Irish name… does that count for anything?). It will be a great trip. Well, because of a long and not too interesting story about the laundry, we now have the wonderful cultural experience of getting to go down to Bussy, the nearby town, to do our laundry, and as luck would have it, as we did our laundry on Monday an Irish guy came in to do his, too, and I started talking to him, and he’s from right outside of Shannon and had some good ideas of places to go and things to do. I think it will be great. I’m going to go horseback riding (don’t worry, I’m bringing my inhaler—I don’t think I’ve got it quite as bad as Seth, anyhow).

Well, I’ve got to go, but I hope you all have a great weekend. Much love and hugs to all.

Jeff

P.S. The last picture (bottom) is searching for hollow tiles in the church made famous by the Da Vinci Code, the middle one is the second statue of liberty (or third, I'm really not sure what order they were created in, but it's the one I saw yesterday--and sorry it's on its side) and the first one is the sunrise while waiting for the bus in the morning... and it ended up pouring. There's some saying about red skies and sailors beware but I don't remember it...

Valencia Pix

Here are some pix from the valencia trip. The bottom one is of Cassandra with Susie jumping, the second one is me jumping by the beach, and the last one is of the severed arm of some saint from the 300's in a cathedral in Valencia. More to come later...

Jeff

Valencia (like the Oranges)

What a crazy weekend! I don’t imagine I’ll be able to tell about it all in one fell swoop, which probably means the story will never be told in a public forum.

So, last weekend I ended up going to Spain, with about a week’s notice. (As an aside, because I wasn’t able to check my email for the three days before I went I didn’t end up telling anyone before I left... Sorry about the mix up, mom and dad!). It was great. We went to Valencia, and the first night we just got in, looked around the Hostel, and went out for Kebab. That still kept us busy until 1:30 am, but it didn't feel like much. I then had the third longest night of my life (the first being a night on my mission when I slept on a cold, hard, stone floor between two Elder's beds, didn't sleep a wink, and ended up getting up at 4:30am to read the scriptures in the Lerida piso that wasn't adequately cleaned or deodorized, to say the least. The second longest night of my sleep was with my parents on their floor right after I found out that I had back problems...). The other blokes got in at about 2am, and stripped off their clothes and talked till goodness only knows when. Then one of them snored for a while, so I tried sleeping anyway, but it didn't work. I ended up throwing a penny at him to get him to wake up, so when that didn't work I gave up and listened to Enya on my iPod... I'll have to write more later. I'm running out of time.

This post has hardly anything to do with my trip at all, I've just realized. I have received a few comments (both through the posts and also through other means) which I have found encouraging, as to my style of writing. Those who have chanced to speak with me know that I write almost exactly how I write, but I think it's terribly fun to write these posts. I could see writing something a bit more... substantive, so long as it doesn't become boring. Just a thought. Don't worry, you'll know about it here long before it ever happens. Then you can say you knew me way back when... :)

I am also reading Founding Brothers, which has led me to wonder about our times, and about our world. While I don’t support everything that all of the Founding Fathers did in their lives, I have increasingly found them to be some of my greatest heroes. Admittedly, I will never look up to Jefferson (despite both carrying my name and being greater than me in stature), who was disloyal, unprincipled, and an unabashed political chameleon, following whatever maxim best suited him in the instant. While politically savvy, it repulses me to think of it. I much prefer the Washingtons and Hamiltons who fought for what they believed in, were fiercely loyal to cause and to their friends, and who gave their life for their cause. I have decided that I will have copies of the Peale paintings of each W and H placed in my home someday. I greatly admire and respect them both.

Adams was a different beast. While I look up to him (I can imagine that he and I would have been friends, save I inadvertently bring his wrath down upon myself), he was quick to anger, and not nearly as pragmatic as I would like to be. I am deeply jealous, however, of his beloved Abigail, in whom he confided and shared his life’s adventure. I would have such a woman, who would traverse life’s many tempests with me and ever converse and freely share bread and banter.

February 20th

So, this is a day late and a dollar short, but I have another one coming tomorrow for this last weekend, where you'll hear about crazy adventures in Valencia. Good times. In the meantime, this was written on Feb 20th, last Wednesday. I really haven't had internet access since then... And it's been a red day every day since then, so there's been a lot more cooking over the propane stove...


Today it rained. Who would have imagined that the Italian hippy on the steps of the Sacre Coeur (Cathedral of the Sacred Heart) yesterday would be right? Luckily I brought my umbrella today just in case. We had all decided he must be Spanish, so when he walked around after his guitar concert and I congratulated him in Spanish, he didn’t understand a word and we were dumbstruck. He did understand the money we gave him, thought, and repeated “Gracias!” several times. So we concluded that he must have been Italian. (We may never know, though). The concert is displayed in the first photo above (which shows up third, however, because I upload them in the order I talk about them in, and they get sent to the end… It’s a great example of FIFO for you accounting majors out there).

Also impressive was the artist who sat on the steps, painting to the rhythm of the music, making strong strokes on the downbeats and lighter strokes on the other beats. I had never seen anything like it before. I tried to get a video of it, but I don’t know how well it turned out, or how well it will post. I’ll give it a go, though.

It’s been a red day again every day this week. The second picture is of me warming my food over the propane stove, to save electricity. I’m not sure I fully understand this “red day” concept, because it wasn’t that cold today to warrant a severe strain on the system. If there isn’t a strain on the system and they call a red day, then they must think that they’ll make more money off of the higher rates, despite decreased usage. If that’s true, though, then it’s in no one’s best interest to sign up for the red days, because you only follow the program and pay higher rates if you sign up. It’s baffling to me. All that I’m sure about is that my hands are cold, and there’s no warming my food in the microwave.

I’ve got a few movies on my iPod that I’ve started watching. I thought that watching them in French would be a brilliant plan, because then I could watch movies on the train and still feel like I was practicing/learning French. Foolishly, though, the only two movies I have in French are “The Testaments” (a good movie, but not a super thriller. I’ve already seen it a number of times, and it’s a lot less touching in another language) and Groundhog Day. You may be aware of Groundhog Day’s existential leanings (which seems appropriate seeing that I’m in France), which I actually really appreciate. It’s an important moral that each person must create their personal meaning for life before they can continue living it. Turns out, though, that watching Groundhog Day over and over again may not have been the best thought out plan I’ve come up with in my day…

I just finished having dinner with my host family (my roommate, Mike, it out at a play for one of his classes), and I actually had a good conversation with them. The father speaks Spanish, so we talk about Spain (and sometimes we even talk Spanish). We’re going to Valencia tomorrow for a few days, so we had even more reason to talk about it, and we had a good time chuckling about how Spanish women have deep voices and always wear the pants in their relationships. He mentioned that American men are willing to move here to France or to Europe for a girl, but that the American women are never willing to leave America for a guy (they always make the guy go to America with them). That really doesn’t surprise me much.

Today I did a walk for my class, and we went by Napoleon’s tomb. I took some pictures, but they didn’t turn out very well, so they’re not worth posting. We also saw Rodin’s Thinker, which is world famous. I mention that because I think I’ve seen it in a picture somewhere before, but I’ve never known he made it or just how famous it really was, and I feel like something that I don’t know is famous might not be as famous as I’m meant to believe it is…

So, it’s been a great few days. It’s been a happy change of pace to go from the crazy insanity I was living in last semester to something that even a Hawaiian high school would be ashamed to claim for its lackadaisical nature (I’ve done about two hours of homework a week, and I’m about 5 or 6 weeks aheard). I am glad we’re going to Valencia tomorrow, though. I’ll get to eat napolitanas, drink mosto, and speak Spanish. It’s too early for Fallas (although it would have been hilarious if the Welches inadvertently let us go during the craziest week of the year there), so we’ll just be seeing architecture and museums, I think.

I also want to give Sass a special shout out. Although I’ll be keeping these blog posts for posterity, it’s nice to know that someone consistently reads them and is entertained. For what it’s worth, I really enjoy writing. It’s fun to play around with language, and to see the deeper meanings. I liked Wicked because not only was it entertaining, fun and lively, but it also begs an important question about what is good and evil? Similarly, I love to embed deeper meanings into language, and to find it. I think the Lord is the same way (and I mean that in the non-sacrilegious sense); we learn as much as we are ready for in our scripture study. What a beautiful thing! That way He doesn’t have to give us beginning, intermediate and advanced scriptures. They’re all in the same place.

I tried to put the movie with the painter on, but I can’t get it to go with the sound, so I’m tagging on another random picture we took today in front of the Eiffel Tower. I did finally run out my battery on my camera today, but it took me 345 pictures to do it. At this rate I’ll have over a thousand before I come home… alright! Props to digital cameras!

Dance yo' pants off

What a weekend this has been! I finished Catch-22 on Friday, and have been reading Founding Brothers (putting my page total for this week over 1200, which I feel pretty good about). The red light also went off on Saturday, so that was happy and I got my laundry done. No more hand washing in the sink! Horay!

So, on Friday we did a walk (for the walks class), going through the old swampy portion of Paris (until they drained it and built a bunch of stuff on it) on the North side of the river Seine. We went to a few museums this time, including the Cognacq-Jay Museum and the Picasso Museum.

The Cognacq-Jay was interesting. Cognacq and his wife, (maiden name, Jay) collected art from 17^th and 18^th century France, and when they died the bequeathed it to the museum they had made. It was free to get in. I think my favorite thing about it was the one and two feet tall statues, which were done in renaissance style. Maybe that would be more realistic than getting life-sized

I felt like the Picasso museum was well designed. I was looking for some sort of cohesion to it, but it was super crazy. The room numbering was messed up, went out of order and in the wrong direction. There were some doors so small I had to crouch down to go through, and the halls certainly were not straight. Then I gave up with looking for order, and when I did I really enjoyed it.

So, we have the funniest shower. Picture above. Several key things to note about the tub.

1) Water heater the size of a large punch bowl (not shown here). We were asked to turn on the water, rinse, turn off the water, soap up, wash hair, etc, then rinse off.

2) No curtain.

3) Small hose. (Not shown is the single pound of pressure with which the water drips out of it—I hate to say falls, because that implies things like waterfalls and whatnot, with crashing, cascading water plunging into the basin below. That would be a severe misrepresentation of what’s going on here)

4) Ambient house temperature of about eight degrees Celsius (that’s about 46 degrees F in case you’re interested. Not quite t-shirt weather in Colorado, seeing as I usually wait till it breaks 50, but maybe in Alaska it would be…)

I could certainly go into more detail, but let’s just say it’s an adventure every morning. Lots of fun.

We’re going to Valencia (in Spain, and it was in my mission but I never served there) next week, which is really exciting. I’ve got a big list of stuff that I totally want to eat while I’m there, and I’m excited to be able to speak Spanish again. I watched Gattaca in Spanish today to commemorate the event. I figure it will also help me get jump started into Spanish again. They even spoke with the zeta Espanola. Props to whoever did the dubbing. J

We went to the city of Versailles to church today (our host family went to some branch out somewhere else and we’re not clear on how to get to our assigned ward without them driving us), and we got to walk to the train station. We left at 7:00am to make our 7:53am train, and made it without having to amputate any appendages, but I was almost unable to speak from the froid (cold—you know how your face kinda freezes and it’s tough to talk?). In the elder’s quorum class, one of the missionaries came up to me and thought I was French because I bought a French suit last week and I had a beautiful tie on, tied in a Spanish knot. I really like the new suit, it’s tied for my favorite suit I’ve ever owned. Sorry, Dad, it’s black, I know how much you don’t like black suits. I did get a black tie to go with it, but I need something super formal, right?

There was a dance on Friday night for the Versailles ward, which was pretty fun. I haven’t been to a dance since preference of my sophomore year, about 4 years ago. I didn’t really remember how to dance, but I don’t think I ever really knew, so I had fun making a fool of myself. I am pretty sure that I overheard one of the girls who actually knew how to dance poking fun of my footwork, so I tried to make it even more goofy. :-P

There was another on Saturday night for all of the Paris area YSAs. There were probably a hundred or more people there last night (Saturday), but I’m pretty bad at estimating how many people are in a given location, so I might be way off. I stayed up too late reading Catch 22, though, so I was pretty tired by the end of the evening. Well, that’s enough for today.

Life is beautiful!

Jeff

Red (Day) Alert!

So, I've had a series of funny misunderstandings with my host family (as I suppose is wont to happen when you’re living with a family that speaks a different language than you). They’ve been so nice, I thought I would go out of my way to try to do little things, like wait until I have to do my laundry to do it to save detergent, etc (rather than just doing it every Saturday). Accordingly, I waited about a week and a half, and the time comes that I’m out of socks, etc, and I have to do my laundry. So, I bring it in, and ask (more of as a formality) if I can, and the mom says that no, 8pm is too late to start because then it won’t be over until 10pm, and that’s just too late. (No one is in bed by then, but I guess they like it to be quiet as they contemplate going to bed…). Alright, that’s fine. I’ll wait till the next day. She says that’s fine, and that I should just put in my laundry and she’ll start it in the morning after everyone else has left. I arrive at home that night, and glance in to see if it’s done (I’d hate to try to start it too late again) and my laundry’s still there, exactly how I left it. Well, that’s fine, no worries, so I put in the soap, crank the handle and push the start button. About thirty seconds later the mom comes running down from upstairs, quite distressed, saying a lot of things I didn’t understand in French. Was someone in the shower? Was there a gas leak? Any other guesses?

I asked her to explain in English, which she did. It turns out that if you sign a special contract, the power company can put a “red day” on and flash a red light downstairs. When they do, it means no electricity can be used. They do it on really cold days to better ration electricity. Well, turns out that electricity is also 10 times more expensive on red days, so the family has a back up camping stove and a wood fireplace they fire up on the red days (a max of 20 per winter).

So, not only could I not do my laundry for another day, but it’s really expensive to turn on lights or run heaters, so it’s colder in here than it was outside. I’ve opened my little window to get some light, but it’s pushing on sundown, and it’ll be dark soon. Three red days in a row and counting…

I’ve begun reading Catch-22 again. I started the day before yesterday, and I've gotten about 450 pages through it. I'm on track to finish three books (in addition to all my homework and hanging out) this week. It makes me happy. I finished Next by Michael Crichton, but I don’t think I’d recommend it. It wasn’t bad, but it wasn’t really that good, either. It took me a day and a half to finish it.

I went to the Louvre two days ago for my class (we have it every Wednesday), and it was a good time. After class I went and looked up a painter I had never heard of and did some research for my paper, and then I went and looked at the Italian painters. I was kinda window-shopping for good paintings I am going to have copied and put into my house. Even more impressive than the paintings, though, are the statues. Wow! I love the Greek/Romanesque statues. I’ll have to find one that’s not totally naked to put in my house. The picture above is of Apollo and the serpent.

I walked past the Mona Lisa. She’s a beaut, don’t get me wrong, but I don’t think I ever really understood her. I don’t know that I really understand girls at large, come to think of it. Just when you think you’ve got her figured out, you get a new insight that makes you realize you haven’t scratched the surface. Take, for instance, the two different horizons on either side of Ms Lisa. Why are they different? Maybe I’d rather not know. Da Vinci can keep his secrets. What a great day we live in, where we can hop on a big sheet of metal, strap some decayed dinosaur bones to it, light them on fire and skip from Denver to Paris overnight, and then buy a dozen books about it all for cheaper than da Vinci probably paid for one of his. That’s a miracle, if you ask me.

Well, it was about that point that I then sat on a bench and started to think. I like thinking, and my mind churned over and over and ground down the things I wanted to think about, till it was all just dust. I fell asleep. A happy lazy, Sunday afternoon type of nap. I woke up about thirty minutes later. I was sitting next to a big painting of David with Goliath’s head (three or four times bigger) dangling next to him. It was a gruesome awakening, and a startling moment to realize that I had just fallen asleep in what was probably the biggest art museum I’d ever been to. I like the Louvre, but it’s not really a place for deep meditation. Not for me, anyway (although my roommate, Mike, disagrees). Go somewhere with fewer tourists for that, in case you’re wondering.

The other two pictures are me in front of the Sorbonne and Mike, my roommate, in front of the Pantheon (where Victor Hugo, Alexandre Dumas, Voltaire and Rousseau are all buried). It's meant to house all the famous French people. They've got lots of open space in the downstairs, now they just need more famous people to pass on...

Well, until next time! Life is beautiful!

Jeff

I sing of arms...

I sing of arms and the man who first

Came from France to defeat the Germans.

I know what you may be thinking, I’m crazy, the French never beat the Germans (without significant help from Great Britain and the USA, who essentially fought their wars for them, “La Resistance” nothing), but it’s true. Not in our lifetime, or our father’s lifetime. Come to think of it, it wasn’t even in my great, great, great grandfather’s life (Joseph Skeen), but probably his father or grandfather lived to hear tale told of Napoleon Bonaparte, who defeated the Austrians at Austerlitz.

Let me make a brief aside to set the record straight regarding the wars between the French and the Germans. Louis XIV defeated the Holy Roman Empire, (which, though Voltaire rightly ascribed it as being not Holy, Roman nor an Empire, was full of Germans). The must disputed Alsace-Loraine was originally a part of the Holy Roman Empire (and thus was German property) and was taken from the Germans in the wars of the seventeenth century. Let the record show that the French are the ones who first took the Alsace and that they’re the ones who provoked the hostilities (which Kaiser Wilhelm finally took back in 1871, the Allies awarded to the French in 1919, and Hitler occupied in 1939). That makes the count Germans three—counting the Franco-Prussian War in 1871—French two. It’s been over two centuries since the French have won, though. Sad day… Poor French. Maybe they’ll stand their ground next time hostilities break out. Don’t count on it, though.

Back to Austerlitz, though. Napoleon captured 1200 cannons and melted them down to make this tower we saw today, and he put himself (in a Roman toga) at the top, with the entire story of the battle/fight winding its way up to the top. We also managed to stop by the Opera Garnier, which you may recall from such musicals as “The Phantom of the Opera” (that I am rightly listening to as I type). We went inside, and it was just as luxurious, creepy and cool as I had ever hoped. We were in a bit of a hurry, but we are going to go back later on.

Then we also walked through the Latin Quarter, and saw an old cathedral (where some man was playing the organ, so we sat and listened. It was pretty cool to sit and look at the stained glass windows and hear the echoes). I was tempted all through the walk to buy a Doner Kebab, but part of it consisted of buying a pastry at a Boulangerie along the way. Mine was a tower of strawberries with some honey sauce over the top and a cookie of sorts on the bottom. Disaster struck when I tried to bite into both the strawberries and the cookie as stawberries flew everywhere (on my shirt, coat, nasty hands). One even fell on the ground. I think it was the saddest thing of the day.

So, the adventures continue. I finish my homework before the class is over most days, and I’m ahead in all of my classes, so I’ve taken to reading a lot again, in addition to socializing and whatnot. I stopped at a bookstore on Monday and got a few books, but may have to go again soon. So, I’m reading Next by Michael Crichton (which I can’t really say that I recommend, even though it’s in every single bookstore from Denver to Chicago to Washington DC to Paris. I would have thought that a million people, or however many have bought a copy, would have had better taste in books, but it just goes to show you can’t trust stupid people, even en masse—a French termà look at how much I’m learning!). It looks like I’ll finish the whole book in about 6 hours, though, so it’s not such a big loss. I also bought Catch-22 (one of my longstanding favorite books that I cannot locate anywhere in my personal collection, and thus felt compelled to buy again) and A Portrait of Dorian Gray (which I feel I need to read after having seen Mr Wilde’s grave. He must have done something to get so many crazy women to come kiss his grave—see my last post).

Today’s pictures are of me eating a French Macaron—not as good as I might have hoped. Then there’s a picture of a girl named Susie with my pastry (not the same one as I ate today, but of the same variety) and lastly is a picture of a library in a big chateau we visited last week in Belgium (let’s be honest, I love everything to do with books…).

Life really is beautiful. I am happy here, and I am really enjoying everything. I am challenged in a different way than I normally am, which is happy and healthy for me. We shall see what it does for me. Paris and people here have kept me on my toes. It’s been a great life adventure. I even understood everything at dinner tonight (we have dinner every evening with our host family). Also for the record, even if they don’t fight wars, they still make tremendous food, from the pastries to the entrees to the baguettes. It’s all quite incredible. J

La Vie Est Belle!

La Vida Es Bella!

Jeff

It was a graveyard bash... an instant smash

Saturday, not too much to say today, but I'm glad that (at least those who make comments-I'm not even sure if there are other people reading it, but that's fine. As I said it will serve as a journal for me) you're learning a bit about European History. It's one of my favorite things in the world to study and read about, so I'm a bit disappointed that the teachers only talk about religion, art and religious history (although that's all fine and dandy, too). It's been back to class as normal; the trip to Belgium was a nice distraction, but on Thursday we resumed classes as normal, etc. Not that I have too much to complain about, seeing that I’ve only got class from 9:15 to 10 on Tuesdays and Thursdays, but there is homework, and we’ve got a bunch of papers due in our art history class. There is a minimum of one paper per class that’s due. I guess I ought to feel sorry mostly for the woman who teaches the class, since she’s got to read all of our papers. I’m mostly just working on those today. I’ve finished two papers already, and I’ll bet I get 6 or 7 done today. My roommate thinks I’m crazy, but we’ll see what he has to say when I’m all done next week and he’s still got 9 left to write.

On Thursday we went to see the Madeleine, a monument to Napoleon’s army-turned Catholic church/cathedral. It’s kinda funny, since it looks like the Parthenon, but when you go in it’s got some outright creepy statues (and they’ve all got lights under their faces so they look like boy scouts telling scary stories around a campfire)

Yesterday we went to a big graveyard and saw the graves of a lot of famous people (including Chopin and Jim Morrison… goodness only knows how he ended up in this famous cemetery). Oscar Wilde also ended up here, and people come and kiss it and his headstone is covered in lipstick. It’s kinda weird, I think, but hey, whatevs. Then we saw a French movie (where the happy ending was the woman getting together with the guy she was cheating with on her husband… who had died), and I got to walk home since the last bus leaves at 8:30pm from the train station, and it took me almost an hour because I got lost for a bit (out of all fairness, it’s a bit tough for this mountain boy to find his way in such a flat place…).

Today’s pictures are of the house I live in, one of the fields nearby and the girls I went to the graveyard with. (There was a part of it where we went down underground into a crematorium and walked around through rows and rows of headstones set into the walls, and I jumped out and scared the daylights out of one of the girls. It was great :). Well, have a great weekend, and take care. Life is beautiful!

Jeff

Mardi Gras and Oranges

Wednesday. So, it’s a bit annoying that I don’t have steady internet access. For some reason my roommate has perfect access on his computer, but my computer won’t connect to the internet. Accordingly, I use his computer every other day to check my email/post things, but that’s why I don’t write more often or write more. Maybe it’s good for me, because I normally spend tons of time reading the news and Wikipedia.

In any event, it’s been a fun few days. We have these awesome “Art Student” cards that get us into most of the museums for free, including the Louvre. We even have one of our classes that meets there, and we have a special Louvre card to get in. It’s nice. I bought a notebook and I’ve taken to drawing again, like I did during high school. I really enjoy it. I listen to music and draw stuff. I’m still mostly drawing people and hands and eyes and stuff, but I am sure that someday I’ll branch out. Today’s not that day, but someday. I went and bought some pencils and erasers, etc, today, to facilitate it.

It’s been really great. I’m only taking 12 credits (which is insanely few for me for those who don’t know), and there really aren’t any clubs, nor any interviews, and… well, it’s a happy time of life, let’s say. I hang out in Paris for a while every day, after class I generally stay until evening hanging out with people, then I go home and I read and study all night. I have a book called “The Story of Art” (with a special shout out to Evie for helping me find it) that I read a chapter out of every night) which is especially cool because I can see the trends and the pieces he’s talking about in the architecture and paintings, etc, all around me. Then I also get to enjoy the big open fields that haven’t been planted yet and are just lush green grass all over. And with classes and my reading, I still have time to finish a book a week, draw, and spend a lot of time hanging out.

Church on Sunday was also good. There were about 100 people in the ward we attended, and another 40 in the other ward that attends the same building. It’s still a bit too much when I get surrounded by people speaking French who expect me to speak as well as everyone else, but I’m understanding it more and more. I got called on to pray, and it was pretty rocky, but not the end of the world. I have had a few times where my French pulled through in a pinch (including one coming up), which is a good feeling. Madame Welch, the professor in charge of the program, gave me a bon-bon (candy) because I was doing so well.

Well, as I mentioned, we went to Belgium Monday to Bruge (where we, like the pathetic American tourists we are, ate overpriced Belgian waffles and French fries for dinner—which are, in fact, a Belgian invention). We also got a tour of a chocolate factory and the history of chocolate, from when the Indians smoked it till when they make tasty goodies in a bar for you and me in the present day. Then we went to Binche for Mardi Gras, where there was a crazy parade where a bunch of people dressed up and threw oranges out at the crowd. Sometimes they threw it to the crowd, but mostly at the crowd. I only got pelted three times, once in the mouth, but my roommate, Mike, got slammed on his lip and was bleeding all over. Anyway, the picture shows the crazy “Gils” who are kinda like the town clowns who threw the oranges, along with another picture of me with my first orange. I was proud of it. I caught about 15 total. I ate a few for dinner last night, and some more for lunch today. I also had my first blood orange. It kinda creeped me out at first, but then I got used to it.

So, the Gils are local Belgians (and it used to be a rite that was passed on only from father to son, but now they’ve started to open it up a bit) who belong to various guilds. The women spend about 6 months every year sowing up these (incredible!!!) costumes for the men to wear around. They group themselves according to their guilds and go through the parade with their parade members. Then they thrown oranges to the people (I really never did figure out why) on the sides, favoring people that they know. If they saw that you could catch well they started to pelt you, so you had to stay on your toes. There was one fellow who climbed up on a light post or something, and was taunting the gils. He was egging them on, and they were pelting him pretty hard. They probably hit him about a hundred times (no joke) before one of them knocked the silly hat he had on off his head, and he jumped off to get it and didn’t come back. All around the stores put chicken wire over their windows and doors to protect it from the riotous gils (who nevertheless made attempts to break windows).

They say that it’s always bad weather until the parade, and then it always cleared up. Sure enough, there was terrible weather. It was windy and raining, and we were generally doubtful and cold, waiting for the parade to start (we got there a few hours early and staked out a front row spot). I really didn’t think anything was going to happen, but was shocked when the tradition held and blue skies broke over the parade and it completely stopped raining. It was pretty cool. They even had some posters around joking about how that was what always happens. All in all, it was insane. And I’m having oranges for breakfast tomorrow. J

We went to an awesome Chateau in Chantilly. The would-have-been king Henry d’Orleans (son of Louis Philip who was deposed in 1848, the revolution of Les Miserables fame) owned Chantilly, and collected royal treasures and memorabilia from everywhere, and made a huge museum of the French monarchy in his castle, and stipulated in his will that no one could ever lend out any of the things he had collected to other museums or anything, so there are a lot of things there you’ll never see anywhere else, including a Rafael, some Van Dyke’s and some furniture from Versailles. The original owner of Chantilly was the cousin or the brother (Mme Welch changed her story) of Louis XIV, and wanted to make his palace look like his brother/cousin’s, so it was filled with opulence as well. There were also some really cool gardens.

Getting home from the train station was an adventure. I lost my metro card, which covers zones 1-5 (which is huge… especially seeing that it takes me so stinking long to get there in the morning), and had to pay 105 euros (~US $150). It took me a while to figure out that I had, in fact, lost it, including calling the bus company and everything. Jack Welch (of discovering chiasmus in the Book of Mormon fame) called me and told me they had found it about halfway home… so I’m going to see tomorrow if I can return the one I bought. I spoke to a woman at our train station (all in French!) explaining what happened, and she told me she didn’t think it would be a problem.

The train ride itself is going well. I’ve taken to reading the Aeneid now, and I’ve got one of the Stanford online iTunes U classes about the Aeneid that I listen to on my iPod as I travel, so it’s a nice addition. I get to read it and listen to the teacher’s commentary. I am also really happy because there’s this awesome girl here who has a copy of Founding Brothers she’s going to lend me. Then I’ve only got a few more books to read and I might be done with the American Revolution. If anyone can think of other essential revolution-era books I ought to read, let me know.

On a happy note, I got an email from a certain Mr Pandit (of Citigroup fame), informing me that despite abnormal losses in the 4^th quarter, my job was safe and is an integral part in building up Citi as a financial institution. The same email was sent to all of my future colleagues as well, but it did make specific reference to Citi’s domination of emerging markets. Props to us! Well, think that will be enough for one day. I hope everyone is doing well. Have a wonderful day!

La vie est belle!

Cold Winter Mornings and Walks in the Fields

Well, it’s been a bit nippy here. Luckily it was cold enough the past few days that the humidity froze out of the air, and it actually made it feel a bit warmer. We usually catch the 7:50 bus, which means that it’s still dark out when we go.

We only have class Monday to Thursday (next week not included, since we’re taking a road trip to Belgium Monday to Wednesday). Accordingly, on Friday Steve Pearson (a friend from BYU) was in London for work, and decided to take the weekend to come visit his aunt, Jeannie Welch, who is the director of the BYU Paris study abroad program, so I ended up hanging out with him this weekend. What a crazy small world it is. Especially when you’re LDS. Anyway, Steve and I went to Versailles with some of the other BYU students, and had a great time.

The pictures didn’t turn out well because the entire front is being cleaned, but the inside is amazing. The tour starts on the top level with the throne room and the King and Queen’s apartments, then goes down to the Dauphin’s rooms. The only problem is that it makes the otherwise opulent prince’s chambers seem rather droll in comparison. C’est la vie, but I’d have arranged it differently. It was great to see because I just took my Greek and Roman mythology class, and there was tons of mythology incorporated in the not-so-catholic French King’s decoration. It was fun to be able to see the title “Apotheosis of Hercules,” look at the painting, and know what’s going on and why. Also, Louis XIV (whom I already admired in my Blog) and the French kings considered themselves the Sun kings, and Versailles was the Sun Palace, so they had a lot of references to Apollo, the Greek god of the sun. Good times.

Perhaps the greatest excitement of the day was that we got in for free with our “Art Student” cards. It would have normally been about US $30 total, but we didn’t pay a cent. That is, until we went to the Creperie right next door and I got a raspberry and cream crepe. It was amazing. Then I went and finished off the day with a Kebab, and I don’t think it could get any better. I had forgotten how much I missed kebabs while I was away.

Saturday I had forgotten that the bus schedule changes for the weekend, only comes about every two and a half hours, so I ended up walking the 45 minutes to the train station, thus making the trip into Paris a total of two hours and ten minutes. It was a lot of fun, though since I walked past an old church, some big open fields, and got to listen to the birds sing. The town is also surrounded by lots of open fields. They’ll all be planted come spring, but right now they’re just grassy, rolling fields.

French is coming along pretty well. I went from being able to say “Yes, Hello, Goodnight, and Thanks” to having short, somewhat pathetic, but full conversations about how my day was, what I did, what we saw, and who was with me. I also had a great conversation about books. Maybe not because the quality of speech was great on my end, but rather every conversation about books is a good one. Speaking of books, I finished Charlie Wilson’s War, and I’ve been focusing solely on vocabulary, and I’ve made great progress. I probably have several hundred words down now. I will probably have to go out and get a new book soon, though. The trip to Belgium is supposed to be several hours, and I don’t know if I’ll make it that long without reading anything besides a French grammar book.

A funny side note on Charlie Wilson’s War (not funny-funny, but odd funny. CWW, by the way, is about the secret war the CIA was running in Afghanistan from 1982 till 1991, which is where a lot of the Afghans got their weapons to fight the current US troops there). It was a phenomenal book, and I’m glad I read it, because it made me aware of something I had been totally unaware of before, but it’s also interesting, because I randomly picked up the Kite Runner and I also randomly watched Lord of War (edited, mind you, with Nicholas Cage as a gun-runner), and it seems like they all mesh together in some dark way. If you don't know what any of the three is about, I recommend you read/watch them all.

This afternoon we went to see the French Chateaux in Conches and the surrounding countryside (the tiny town where we live. It’s so small it only has like 3 bus stops. I’d be surprised if it’s as big as Homestead, the one mile square subdivision I grew up in). Maybe when I get my battery charged I can post some pictures. Some of them are really cool, and some are slightly dilapidated. The older/less well kept ones seem to mostly have been converted into retirement homes, and the nicer ones are mostly weekend homes for the uber-wealthy.

Today’s pictures come from my bedroom. It’s plenty big, and has a bookcase. This was before I moved my stuff in. It’s got a great German blanket on it. It’s really thick and heavy (as in it weighs a lot) and it is just wonderful. For some reason I like that a lot. As a side note, the wife in the family is actually German—but I think they’ve lived here in France their whole married life. They’re probably 55 or so. The husband is the chief French translator for the church (and had the joy of translating 3 last minute talks yesterday for the funeral, which took him all day). They have four sons. One is on a mission, and one still lives at home. They all speak English really well, but speak only French to me. It’s better that way.

It’s been a great first week. I am really happy with how things are going, and I think it will turn out to have been a plum idea. Until next time, a bientot!

Jeff

P.S. If you like the pictures, you may have to lobby my mom to send me my camera charger. Being the slightly absent minded person that I am, I managed to forget it at home, and now I need her to send it to me. Thanks mom!