Center

Dear Jesus,

I would like you to be in the middle of everything I do.

That's right, everything.  All that I think about every single moment.

Oh, but I do need to think about school still.  I've gotta read that textbook, so maybe I'll get to my bible later.  I have to get good grades after all.

And work of course.  I really don't see how I could think about you and purchase orders at the same time.  And since I have to buy myself food, I need to keep my job.

When I'm writing for the newspaper I just don't see how you'd fit.  I mean, what do you have to do with the haunted house?  No connection, so don't bother.

Then there is the prayer ministry.  You should be part of that too, just don't keep me from getting those e-mails sent.

Relationships...well, do I really just want to sit and pray with people all the time?  That doesn't seem like very much fun.  And if all we talk about is you, won't we run out of things to say?

When I'm trying to sleep, just let me sleep.  Don't bother me with deep thoughts because I'm tired.

I mean really, I've become a certain kind of person.  People expect particular things from me.  Don't screw that up.

So, be my center, just don't get in my way, okay?

You're the best!

Wait...

It breaks my heart to see this about myself.  I may not consciously make those choices, but really, what does my schedule show?

Jesus, I'm not even sure I have a center right now.  Teach me to put my focus on you.

Thanks,

-Rachel

Stopped Up Tears

A chance meeting on the bus, another caring hug.  Tears like a geyser struggle to break the surface.

A quick change of subject and the feelings subside.  Public transportation is no place to discuss my grief-I hate for people to see me cry-yet the pain still clenches my stomach with tight fingers and tying hundreds of knots.

I long to turn inside out: to slice through the knots, break down the dam of my stubborn pride and let the river of emotion flow.  Only the most steadfast listener could avoid being swept away in the flood.

A quick good bye and I'm on another bus.  My novel tells of the soulful lament for a beloved bard and prince: a beautiful, horribly wailing that fill the ears of the reader without hearing a thing.  With the final words of the story tears shoot once more to my eyes.  I feel my face like ice, struggling to crack.  Yet again, not here, not now.  I close my eyes and sleep to block all emotion.

Awake once more, I climb onto my final bus.  People climb aboard in large groups, all taking interest into one another's day.  I am alone.  No one asks about my day.  My chin quivers and I feel as though I could shatter into hysterics.  No.  Not here, not now.  I force myself to focus on the sounds of Les Miserables pouring through my head phones.

Finally, I walk home.  I am virtually alone, with only the rushing cars to keep me company, yet I still hold back.  The tiniest moan escapes my lips.  Still-the tears do not fall.

Just as I decide to give in, it is over; the tears are not there.  Just an Grandma shaped emptiness, longing to be filled.  My heart yearns for the special love that only she can give to fill the void, but I am left with only a failing taste of the joy I could have.

I need to bake cookies.  Perhaps they-the food for sad souls-will sooth my hurting heart.  I bake and eat to no avail.  The hole remains, the hurt persists, the tears still linger just under the surface.

Something needs to change.  If only I knew what, when, and how.

Jesus, help me please.

Hole in my Heart

My Grandma passed away today. 

The past few days my entire family has been staying at her house, helping my Grandpa take care of her.  I've spent most of my time sitting on the stool next to her hospital bed, or across the living room reading a book in the recliner. A lot of the time she simpy laid in bed with her eyes closed, and was usually asleep. Sometimes, I would hear her praying.  I would sit next to her, perhaps holding her frail hand, and pray too.

When she lay in bed yesterday we had one of her favorite worship CDs playing.  With her weak, air-hungry breaths she sang to Jesus:  "I exalt thee.  I exalt thee.  I exalt thee, ooh Lord!"  With my young, healthy lungs, I quietly sang with her. 

Even after she could barely scrape together a cognizant thought, she kept talking to Jesus, leaning on Jesus, begging Jesus to come.  She was tired and living between her doses of pain killer.  Every two hours we turned her from one side to another, to reduce pressure on the bed sores that already added to her discomfort.  Even when she was asleep the pain could be clearly seen on her face as we carefully turned her over.

We took shifts staying up with her at night, so Grandpa could get the optimum amount of sleep. My shift came between 3 am and 5 am. I laid on the floor next to her bed with my bible and notebook at hand.  I flipped through the Psalms, re-reading the underlined verses that had always brought me comfort.  "The Lord is with the broken hearted, he saves those who are crushed in Spirit."  Psalms 18 talks about God coming down in all of his fury to defend those he loves, before he teaches me to "bend a bow of bronze."  I spent a long time praying to Jesus, asking for peace for all of my family. 

At 5 am it came time to turn her again.  Grandpa came downstairs to help before his shift.  The previous evening, Grandma still looked pretty okay, considering what her body had been through.  She opened her eyes as we turned her. I looked into her face and knew she could not see me.  The end was very near.  With that thought, I climbed back into bed.

4 hours and twenty minutes later, I was woken up by my little sister, telling me that Grandma had stopped blinking.  Mom rushed upstairs shortly after, saying Grandma only had minutes left.  We came downstairs to witness her last breath.

 I sat next to her, looking at her previous face.  Just yesterday, I had watched her from the recliner, seeing her blue eyes sparkle when she smiled at me.  My Grandma was so beautiful. 

I miss her truly, deeply.  As I sat with her yesterday, I read "Heaven is so Real,"  the story of a boy named Colten who visited heaven during a surgery, and how he told his parent's about it afterwards.  He told them that the first person you see when you get to heaven is Jesus.  All I could think about this morning was how my Grandma was finally talking to Jesus, who she had been waiting to see for a very long time.  I know she is up there now, probably intermittently praying for us and worshiping her Lord. 

I miss her a lot.  She was very dear to me.  I'd appreciate prayers for my family as we work through this time. 

I'm so glad she is in heaven, free at last from her disease, but I am so sad to think I wont be able to see her smiling face until Jesus calls me home, which I imagine will be a long time from now.  There is definitely a hole in my heart.  Luckily, I know that, with time, Jesus will fill it up and make it stop hurting.  I must continue to try and lean on him.

Europe Day 60: Regular

I am a regular at my crepe place!  I walked up to the window and he said, "Bonsoir! Buerre et sucre?" meaning "Good evening!  Butter and sugar?"  Yep-he knew my order before I said a word!  When I left he said, "Bonsoir, au demain!"  "Good evening, see you tomorrow!"   I feel like I have accomplished something.  Good or bad, I only get to go two more times before we return to America, and I may never get to go again.

Before we had crepes, I spent the day picking up a few more souveniers for my family.  Kayla, Melissa, and I wandered through a mall, back into Shakespeare and Company, and a few more places before finally calling it a day.  A kebab dinner followed before attending the main event-a boat ride on the Seine.

This was so fun!  The boat was two stories high, so we sat on the top in the open air.  Our tour guide told us in excellent French and broken English about all of the sights to be seen along the shore.  We took many pictures in front of the Eiffel tower, and then got to see it sparkle as we sailed away.  Later, we crossed under Pont Marie, a bridge connecting Isle St. Louis to the main land.  Legend has it that if you close your eyes and make a wish as you go under the bridge, then kiss your neighbor after you pop out the other side, your wish will come true! Kayla merely kissed her fingers and tapped my face.  I grabbed her face and planted a big wet one on her cheek.  That probably shows the difference between growing up with three sisters, and growing up with two brothers.

It was Casey's last night with us, so Josh, Kayla, Casey, Ashley, Jade and I went for crepes and gelato afterwards.  It was already late, and we wanted to watch one more episode of Big Bang Theory before he left, so we did not stick around long after getting our treats.  We just walked along the Seine to our metro stop, relishing our snacks.  We then returned to the FIAP and watched our TV show, before saying Good bye.  Casey leaves first thing tomorrow morning when we will all still be sleeping, so it was our only chance to say goodbye. 

Tomorrow is our final.  It is crazy to think that my adventure truly is winding down. Suddenly I wish for one more day, but then I think about home and could not be paid enough to take a later flight.  I just cannot wait to see all of my loved ones beautiful faces again!  And my Grandparent's have already promised me many hugs and cuddling when I get back. My heart aches for those moments, but I know they'll come soon enough.

Europe Day 59: Shakespeare and Company

Having finally finished my homework and turned it all in, I finally had some free time again! As soon as class was over I took full advantage of it. 

Jeanie, Melissa and I decided to eat a nice French lunch.  We went to a restaurant in the Latin Quarter that Jeanie had been wanting to try.  Moments after sitting down we were given an "amuses bouche," which translates into "amusement for the mouth."  It was some sort of green puree-possibly asparagus, topped with a few dark, crips croutons and three round spots of something. Jeanie claims it was chocolate, but I thought it tasted more like vinegar.  I had to avert my attention from the slime-green color, but otherwise enjoyed it.

I ordered off the set-price menu and had fish, vegetables, and a pastery for dessert. The presentation alone was utterly fantastic!  My entree and side dish were set together on the plate with a crepe wrapped in a cone shape, overflowing with herbs on top.  Green and orange stripes criss-crossed my plate, with black circles added to the patter. I have no idea what any of the colors were, but it looked cool.

I LOVE French pasteries!  We were told to pick one from the case in the chocolate shop attached to the restaurant.  There were so many delightful options, I made myself choose quickly before I started drooling.  I ended up with a white chocolate mousse covered in a red gel, with raspberries on top and inside and a shortbread crust on bottom. It tasted fantastic! I slowly savoured every single bite, letting the mouse, gel, and chocolate melt in my mouth.  It was ten minutes of heaven!

When we had finished lunch, we visisted the chocolate shop, then an olive oil and vinegar shop.  Afterwards, we hunted down Shakespeare and Company.  This is an English bookstore that has been around for a very long time.  Initially, it seems to be a poorly shelved jumble of books with no sense of order, but a closer look shows method in the madness.  In the chaos of books stacked on books, facing all directions, everything was neatly ordered by author and divided by genre.  Book shelves were absolutely everywhere.  Even the slanted side of the stair case had books on it! Up the stairs was a section of reference books that could be read but not purchased.  Wingbacked chairs, a rocking chair, and even two beds were available to sit and spend the afternoon reading.  I sorely wished I had found that out sooner so I could have spent an afternoon reading while surrounded by old books.  Everyone was very quiet, only muttering "excuse me" and "sorry" under their breath as they squeezed through the tightly packed shelves of books.  Even the employees spoke English!  I did not have to guess at what they were saying as they sorted a pile of books on the floor.  It was comforting to have some time in a place where I knew exactly what was going on.

Upon returning to my room at the FIAP I was dissapointed to catch the scent of men's body spray drifting through my bedroom window.  That means that another group of middle or high school students had arrived from somewhere.  You know, the kind who are at the age where they realize they might smell, but don't like to shower.  I do not like them.  They scream and yell and run up and down the halls banging on doors at 7 in the morning, and push all of the buttons in the elevator, racing it to the top of the building and down again.  I'm sure I would appreciate the FIAP much more if those little monsters weren't here!

Dinner in the cafeteria was followed by a trip to the Seine for crepes with Kayla and Josh.  The crepe man recognizes me since I have been so often.  I like the feeling of being a "regular" somewhere in Paris.  Not many people, who don't live here, can lay claim to such a thing.  I relish the spark of recognition in his eyes when I appear outside his window.  I am a little surprised he hasn't just started making my crepe before I order it, since I get the same thing everytime, but maybe tomorrow night he will.

We sat next to the river in the wind until I got too cold to stay any longer.  The weather was not the best today, but the rest of the week should be in the 70s and 80s.  I think it will be a nice way to send us back home.  Part of me suddenly panicked when I realized how few days we had left, because I'm still short a few souveniers for people, but another part of me thinks I should hop on a plane tomorrow and just give everyone hugs instead of stuff.  But, the sensible part of me knows I can't afford another ticket, I'll just have to wait until Saturday.

Europe Day 58: Cahier and Journals

This morning I went to class. Then I worked on cahier until lunch.


After a FIAP lunch, I finished my cahier just before dinner.

After finishing my cahier, I worked on journals until dinner.

After a cheeseburger the kebab place, I worked on journals while doing laundry.

After doing laundry, I took a break from journals to watch Big Bang Theory.

After Big Bang Theory, I worked on journals in the lobby.

I am now done with my 57 page journal.

Europe Day 57: Hillsong and Home

I woke up this morning so excited to go to church! A group of us left a little after ten, dressed in our Sunday best, and hopped on the metro. Four stops and a short walk later, found Hillsong Paris.


The place was absolutely alive with people! Laughing, cheering, and lots of smiles greeted us as we walked down the steps to the courtyard. I have never seen French people so enthusiastic about anything before! They all were so happy and hundreds of conversations could be heard. Many people greeted us with a “bonjour” as we walked through the foyer and joined the melee waiting for the doors to open. It almost felt like waiting with the crowd to get good seats at a concert, what with everyone squeezed into the wide hallway. There was so much energy in the air, I kept bouncing on my knees with anticipation!

I was so grateful to find that the website was honest when it claimed the service was bilingual. Four songs were sung in French, with English also written on the screen, and two were done in English with French written on the screen. The announcements, sermon, and prayers were all translated on stage. I was incredibly impressed at how well the two cultures blended for this service. I have attended churches in America that strive to be multi-cultural, but I felt that this one did it in a way that none of the others have been able to managed. The transitions between languages were seamless, and even the jokes were translated so the entire audience could enjoy them. It was an impressive sight to behold!

I was surprised to see the French so excited at church. Religion here is kept very separate from other areas of life, but perhaps that is what allows them to put the extra passion in on Sunday mornings. Or, it is also possible, that the Australian and American part of the crowd was doing all of the cheering, but the French seemed to take it in stride. Whatever they were actually feeling, I worshiped Jesus just like I always do, trying to pretend the French lyrics came naturally and refusing to acknowledge that I did not necessarily now what I was saying. What did it matter? I was singing for Jesus!

A French boy gave me a rose at church. A red one. It would have been romantic, except the same French boy gave a rose to all of the other girls in my row. Fun fact; French Mother’s day was today. After worship, a group of woman came out and sang a maternal rendition of “Mamma Mia” to us, while some of the young men gave flowers to every woman in the audience. So, it was not a romantic red rose, just a, “Congratulations on being a mother someday” rose. The story is much less exciting when all of those extra details are thrown in.

Coming back to the FIAP afterwards, I ate a quick lunch before working on my cahier all evening long. I did take a break around midnight to call my Grandma for her birthday! I already knew my whole family would be over and I was excited to get to talk with them! It ended up being quite an ordeal. The FIAP has a special phone requiring a special-probably overpriced-phone card. I hunted around for change and almost bawled when it did not work the first few times, but after a deep breath I tried again. A tear of joy or two might have slipped out my eyes when I heard my Grandpa answer on the other end. He immediately put me on with my Grandma, my Mom got a different phone, and my littlest sister the third. They kept trading with each other until I talked to my Dad and my sister Gabby too. Just when she was going to get my third, and oldest sister Elizabeth, I ran out of minutes. It was sad to be cut off, but I was so glad to have gotten to talk to them! I think, perhaps, I’ll be able to manage staying in Europe for a few more days now. But, I am certainly ready to go home and be surrounded by people who know me well and love me unconditionally. And who will feed me grilled cheese sandwiches and milkshakes. Ah-my toes curl with pleasure at the thought!

Europe Day 56: Versailles

A long time ago, or not so long ago, I was in my high school French class.  We opened our books and purused the pages describing Versailles, the palace of the French Monarchs.  A short while later I was in my European History class.  We opened our books and learned about the French Monarchs who lived in Versailles.  A few years later, I was a Freshman in college.  In my Seeing History Through Clothes class, we learned about the French court that lived at Versailles.  After all of this, I wanted to go to Versailles; it was going to happen as soon as I could get myself to France.

Here I am, in Paris, France, and I went to Versailles today.

Having heard so much about it, I knew there would be an abundance of gold embelishment.  I expected the superfluous show of wealth, and the flambouyant wallpaper did not come as a surprise.  Believe it or not, I was stunned by how small it was.

It really is a ginormous estate.  The gardens seem to stretch for miles, and it took us three hours to walk through the visitable part of the castle, but I did not sense a feeling of hugeness.  I think I had wanted to walk into a grand ballroom that utterly glistened with the gold embelishments covering the walls.  A sparkling chandelier would illuminate the room, and darling cherubim would play with roses on the ceiling.  Something like the ballroom in Beauty and the Beast, when Bell dances with the Beast in her lovely yellow dress.

We did not go into such a room in Versailles. 

The Hall of Mirros came close; a plethora of chandeliers sparkled just above my head and sculpture after gold sculpture lined the walkway.  Mirrors lined the left wall, reflecting from the windows on the right.  All together, a dazzling spectacle!  Yet the grandness I had expected was not quite there.

If there is anything Versailles had enough of, it is paintings.  Thousands of paintings.  Whole hallways, as long as a football field, held paintings bigger than my bedroom!  And every single one of them held the final scenen in a dramatic battle, suspended at that moment forever.  It was a tall, grand room, but it still lacked the playful flavor I had hoped for.

Towards the end of our tour we went into the Apartments of the Ladies of the Court, most specifically, Marie Antoinette's rooms.  All of these were done much more spimply, in lighter colors and less somber patterns than the other rooms.  Should I have lived in the Court of Versailles, those are the rooms I would have liked to stay in.  Many of the other rooms would have seemed oppressive after a while.

Melissa and I ended our visit in the most over priced gift shop I had been in yet.  The rest of the group had skipped the Chateau and only visisted the gardens.  From what I am told, they are utterly amazing.  Beautiful fountains leap and splash in time with the music and carefully crafted walkways stretch on for miles.  From what I could see, it looked like a very tame garden.  I prefer something a little more natural, a little more wild even, than gravel and meticulously trimmed bushes.  Even so, should I go to Versailles again, I think I will skip the castle and only explore the gardens, just so I can see them both.

Upon returning to the FIAP, after a very long train ride, I worked on my cahier.  It really is a fun project, but I am starting to hate it because it takes up so much of my time!  Fortunately it is due on Tuesday, so I'll have to be finished soon!

Tomorrow we are going to Hillsong Paris.  I am so excited to be at church again!  It is supposed to be a bilingual service and I look forward to seeing how that works!

Europe Day 55: Prayer

Sacre Coeur is a huge church on the top of the highest hill in Paris.  It was built in that place during a wicked time in France history; by putting it where all could see the builders hoped to promote better behavior amongst the citizens. Today, I went there, and it certainly helped to adjust my attitude.

See, fall and winter quarter of this year I was the administrative assistant for Relinquish, the campus prayer ministry.  For both quarters, I was in my bible every day, and praying all the time.  It was fantastic!  God and I had regular conversations where I did most of the listening, and it was an absolutely amazing thing!  Then, I went to Europe.

Church services are not in English, and I'm always so tired at the end of the day that even though I keep my bible by my bed, I have rarely opened it.  Then today, I saw a sign at Sacre Coeur.  It said that for the past 125 years, day and night some one has been praying in that church.

Woah.

Not that long ago I was a fanatic for Jesus like that. 

I miss those days. 

I am determined to be that way again!  I am going to church this Sunday: a bilingual service at Hillsong Paris, and I am so excited about it!

After my Jesus resolution, we got crepes. I had my usual sugar crepe, but while I was eating it the sugar melted into a liquid and dripped down my dress before I even knew it! I spent the day with sticky gobs on me.  Fortunately, a little hot water later that evening and they rinsed right out.

We then went to the Moulin Rouge.  I guess it is a type of theater?  I'm not really sure. There is a movie made about it, but I haven't seen it yet.  I can tell you that moulin means windmill and rouge means red, so the theater has a red windmill.  Anyways, I'm watching the movie sometime soon this summer and after that I'll probably be much more excited about this particular event.

We returned to the FIAP and left again to get kebabs for dinner, after which I worked on my cahier forever.  When Kayla, Josh and I could not take it anymore, we left to watch Big Bang Theory before bed.  It was not a huge adventure, but my adventerous spirit is waning...I miss my Mommy and Daddy and sisters and Grandparents and a bunch of my friends and I'm not ashamed of it! 

That said, I'll bet you that a few weeks after I get back I'll be looking for more oppurtunities to study abroad. I really am loving this chance to explore new cultures; I guess I'll just have to wait and see what happens!

Europe Day 54: Confliction

Today was not the most exciting day.  I got out of bed, and breakfast, and dressed in time for class.  I did just barely make the breakfast line though; that was exciting. But only because I insist on changing out of my pajamas and brushing my teeth before I go downstairs; I don't want to muder anyone with my horribly morning breath.

At least half of our class is in England this weekend, going because they can, so there were very few of us, and we ended early. I marched directly up to my room, gathered my supplies, and returned downstairs to work on my cahier.  This whole, "cahier on the computer" thing is taking forever! My computer tends to freeze up and I, perhaps, spend a little more time than necessary designing each page.  But I really enjoy it, and am proud of the good pages I have done.  I just hope I can get the other half of the pages finished by Tuesday.

I worked on that sucker for four hours.  Four good, long hours of dedicated work.

At long last it was time to head towards Centre Pompidou.  After three metros, I ascended to ground level once more, just outside the Museum.  I still had a half hour before we had to meet so I walked around until I found a boulangerie, a bakery.  I ordered a ham, cheese, lettuce, and tomato sandwhich, as well as a slice of cheesecake with raspberries. I walked back to the museum and sat on the cobblestone hill out front to eat my meal.  I thought it was a little weird, but a lot of other people were sitting out there, so it must be acceptable. Despite the hard ground and cold wind, I enjoyed my meal to the fullest.

This museum was unlike any others that we have visisted.  There was only one Pieta, and no Saints nor Virgin Marys with a baby Jesus.  Mostly, there were blobs and streaks of colors, wildly disproportionate body parts, or geometric shape.  A few caught my eye as beautiful or emotional, but most did not look like art to me.  I am not doubting the artistic value of any of the pieces, but I personally would not hang them in my house, except perhaps on my fridge should my child create it for me.  Sorry famous painters of the modern world; you did not enchant me.

It was getting dark when I left the museum, and I got a little nervous when I could not find the metro.  Some how it was not where I left it.  After circling the museum once, I overheard a trio of jovial Americans passing by.  Apparently, it was only a block away in the other direction.  Feeling grateful, I strode off, took my three metros, and returned to the FIAP.

No, it was not the most exciting day, but that is okay.  We do not have class again until Monday, so I have plenty of oppurtunity to do wonderful Parisian things this weekend.  I am terrifically excited to tell you all about them as soon as they have been accomplished!

Europe Day 53: Impressions

I broke my museum record today.  Musee D'Orsay managed to captivate my attention for five solid hours.  Even Kayla, who is well aware of the time I spend in museums, started to worry about me.  While I was enjoying Monet, Renoir, and Van Gogh, she had come back to the hotel, worked on homework, taken a nap, and I still had not returned. Perhaps I did take a little long, but I really was enjoying myself!

The paintings were, of course, wonderful.  I was utterly delighted to find that very few featured anything religious, compared to previous museum outings on this trip.  Instead, my eyes were engaged with cheerful colors made into flowers, people, and landscapes.

Initially, Monet was my favorite. Many of his paintings were in a seperate exhibit I would have had to pay extra for. But, with what I did see, I believe he must have been a cheerful artists, with all of his lovely colors.  Everything he paitined seemed joyfull.  Keep in mind that he was an impressionist.  Oddly, the more detailed you wished to see, the father away from the painting you must stand.  It was a confusing way to look at art.  In one piece, called "Lilas, Temps, Gris" in French, featured a hazy trio under a lilac tree. It was impossible to make out their faces.  Instead, their entire character had to be determined from their form and clothing. I could tell that they existed, but not really who they were.

Van Gogh was a bit of a surprise.  I am not afraid to say I am fairly ignorant of what makes art good, so when I saw his paitings with thick brush strokes and impossibly colors, I was a little taken aback that he should be a famous artist. But, the more I looked at his peices, the more I enjoyed them.  Yes, perhaps he is a little unexpected with his colors, but it did not make the art any less pleasing to look at.

Musee d'Orsay also featured a healthy collection of sculpture.  One of these was "David," by Antonin Mercie.  After seeing Michelangelo's David in the Accedemia, I had to take a moment to reflect on this smaller, bronze edition.  As I studied this David, the word that came to mind to describe him was "swarthy."  He wore a scarf on his head as well as a pendandt I could not make out.  Mercie caught him in the act of sheathing his sword after chopping off Goliath's head.  A grim smile played on his lips and his eyes watched is sword return to it's case, so long that the tip was lost in the hair of Goliath.  David stood with one foot firmly planted on Goliath's face. Mouth open, eyes closed, and a deep gouge in his forehead from the stone that felled him, the emotion on the face of Goliath was not clearly portaryed.  Did the veins stand out on his forhead in fear?  Or does his gapping jaw show astonishment that such a child could kill him? 

I also found a few peices of art from places I have been on the trip.  For example, "Tepidarium" shows women in a community bath in Pompeii.  The city that I had seen destroyed and destitue was painted alive and colorful; an interesting contrast to my memories.  I also saw a water color of Fribourg and a bridge we had crossed there.  A copy of St. Micheal on top of Mont St. Michel stood on the second floor too.  And, my favorite, I stumled upon a door depicting "Hell" from Dante's Inferno. I happened to notice that they were similar to the doors of the Baptistry in Florence.  Listening to the audio guide, I was right!  That is exactly where Auguste Rodin had found his inspiration!  I felt very educated in the art world after that.

As much as I enjoyed looking at the art, I also loved to look at my fellow museum attendees.  First to catch my eye was Vietnamese lady and her little girl.  Both dressed in pink, though the girl had ruffles on her dress, they crouched together in front of famous pieces of art while the Mom read an exverpt from the book, explaining it's significance.  With her long, twin French braids ending in pink bows, the girl listened to her Mama and seemed very interested.  She could not have been more than six years old, and she was learning about impressionist art!  I was impressed!

On the other other hand, I also saw a young boy in a red dinosaur T-shirt playing Super Mario on his DS.  When his Granmda wanted to show him a painting of Elephants in Africa, he begrudgingly stood up, stared for a moment, then too his father's hand and drug his tired feet away.  All three in the trio were obviously exhausted, either from looking at paintings for from convincing the grandson to look at paintings.  Even so, the little boy perked up in the Receiving Room. Done in the playful rococo style, this white room with gold decore was filled with mirrors and sparkling chandeliers.  The moment I stepped foot in there I longed for a man to take my arms and dance me around the room.  I was not surprised to see the boy suddenly get excited too.

Part of the museum was under rennovation, so one area was awkwardly lit and slightly hidden under a set of wide stairs.  It was there I found an older gentlemen sitting againts a pillar.  He wore a dark blue polo, gray pants and a denim baseball cap.  Even though he was sleeping, his glasses remain carefully perched on his nose and his hands properly folded.  I wonder who it is that brought him to the museum, only to leave him napping?

Most of all, I loved to see a put together, older women with graying hair.  Dressed in all black with a purple cardigan and pearl necklace, she discreetly scribbled notes into a little book after reading a plaque, just like I so often do.

I expected to see dozens of students copying the masters. Oddly enough, I only saw two. The first, a fashionable brown haired women, wearing a bouret, sketched the aisle of sculptures.  She leaned against a pedastool, supporting "Gerome Executant Les Gladiateaurs," by Jean-Leon Gerome. Even as she did so, a middle aged man in a blue button down shirt sat against the wall, sketching the very art she used as a backrest.  I found that to be an interesting contradiction of opinion of that particular peice.

I finally left the museum in time for dinner.  It was Josh's birthday, so Kayla, Tyler, Josh, Ashley, Melissa and I went out to eat at an Italian restaurant he had been wanting to try.  I'm sure that the restaurant is wonderful, but I think I have had enough Italian food to last me a while, so it was not that good to me.

After dinner we lost Melissa and Tyler to their homework, as I should have done, and the rest of us went to get crepes and gelato.  Well, once again, I had a crepe and everyone else had gelato. The chef a the crepe place remembered me, since I have been there so many times.  I ordered two butter and sugar crepes, and since they were so hot he gave me a plastic plate to carry them.  This worked out perfectly because the second crepe was for Josh, who had been wanting a crepe with ice cream on it.  He was buying his ice cream and, unbeknownst to him, I bought his crepe.  I'm not really sure if he enjoyed it, but I was pleased that it worked out.

The four of us enjoyed our dessert on a bridge between Il de Cites and Il St Louis.  Here, a quartet played music from the 1920's for a group of onlookers.  The banjo, bass, sax, and trumpet combined beautifully. The trumpet player would also sing.  He was likely in his sixties and had a wonderfully gravely voice perfectly suited to his tunes.  An American, he spoke English between songs and told of the different groups he had performed with.  He sported worn corduroy pants and bright blue chucks that instantly endeared him to my heart.  The sax player look snazzy in a cream and blue suit outfit, and, if you looked at him just right, it was easy to imagine te banjoy player sitting on his front porch, peice of hay between his teeth, playing his favorite tune. The bass player, a younger man, had obviuosly been practicing and managed to keep up with the old timers just fine. They sang songs about lazy rivers and being in love with a love song, but not having anyone to love.  Once more I wished a Frenchman would take my hands and dance with me across the bridge, but I had no such luck.  The French as I know them would never do such a thing.

A metro ride later I am back at the FIAP.  Truly exhausted, I am going to bed now, and I shall insist that Kayla does not talk to me. Recently, it has felt like we were having sleep overs instead of just rooming together.  And you know what they say about sleep overs-you do not sleep until it is over.  Tonight, it is over. 

Home in nine days!  I am so excited to see my family again!  But I am trying not to think on it too much.  I know that a month after I get back, I'll wish I was abroad once more.

Europe Day 52: Tea Time

Yesterday morning was awful.  This morning was much better!  For starters, I made it to breakfast.  Last time we were at the FIAP, we only had croissants to eat with either honey, nutella, or jam.  Since we are staying longer we are allowed to eat the Francillian Breakfast.  Here there is a variety of breads, cereals, yogurty, fruit, juice, and apple sauce to enjoy.  I had been dreading the itty bitty breakfast we had before, so this makes me look a little more fondly at the FIAP.  Especially since I could roll out of bed, through on some clothes, and go to this "secret" breakfast without feeling horribly underdressed. 

I enjoyed my meal and chatted with a Mother and Daughter on vacation from America. The daughter lost a tooth on the plane ride to France, which tells you how old she is.  They were from Louisiana, though I did not notice an accent.  Her husband is a college professor who often brings students to the FIAP to study abroad. Whenever he goes he misses his daughter's birthday.  Apparently she talks about it all the time.

I returned to my room and got ready for the day.  I went downstairs to discover that class had been canceled, but we would be going to tea at 3:00 that afternoon.  Taking advantage of the sudden free time, Jeanie, Melissa and I went to Zara, a clothing store.  I bought another dress, at my sister Gabby's request.  She told me to buy lots of sun dresses, and I am more than happy to comply!

We returned to the FIAP in time for the lunch rush.  Instead of fighting the crowds I worked on my cahier until the line died down.  When my stomach began growling emberrasingly loudly, I decided it was time to get food.  Fortunately there was not a line anymore!  I ate something that looked like a turkey sausage patty and vegetables in the courtyard with Jeanie.  It was not fantastic, but I enjoyed it far more than the other means I have been served from that cafeteria.

I went up stairs to work on my cahier again.  Kayla and I sat on my bed and she played soft music.  Before I knew it, my eye lids started drooping.  I curled up on my half of the bed and tried to sleep.  I dozed off and on for twenty minutes until Kayla tickled my foot.  She is lucky I was so drowsy or I probably would have kicked her in the face.  She was going downstairs and woke me up to tell me so.  As much as I would have liked to sleep, it was time to leave for tea and I was glad to be awake. 

A metro, train, and short walk later, Casey, Josh, Melissa, Ashely and I found ourselves at a tea house called Mariage Freres, which means Brother's Wedding.  They had so much tea! An entire catalogue of it! Green, black, white, and even red and blue teas! I did not even know those existed!  I'm not really a tea person, so I decided to pick one with a funny name and put in enough sugar until it tasted good.  So, I went for Elephant Blanc-the White Elephant.  Our smiling waiter in all white served me my tea, steeped for exactly the right amount of time.  Madame said that if I did not like tea from this place, I would probably never find a tea that I did like. With high hopes I took a sip...it tasted like hot water.  I tried a little more with the same result. So, I put in a few spoonfuls of sugar and managed to enjoy the taste from then on. 

Madame also ordered us three desserts to share.  First, a cake that seemed to be coated with chocolate pudding, with gold leaf on top.  It was creamy and utterly delicious.  I was not sure what to expect from the gold leaf; I am not convinced it really added anything, but it looked cool!  Next, we had a raspberry cake.  A crunchy bottom with a layer of raspberry mouse, a layer flavoured with green tea, another raspberry layer, and raspberries on top.  Smooth and fluffy, it was utterly delicious.  Finally, a strawberry tart with a thin layer of custard between the fruit and crust.  I only had a few bites of this, but I love strawberries and therefore enjoyed it none the less.

To make up for having no class that morning, Madame asked all of us, in French, what we did the night before after the picnic, and that morning before the tea.  Since the other students had been taking French more recently, I went last. She gave me a quick review of the verb tense we were using and I began my story.  Here is the problem; I like to tell stories, especially with a lot of detail.  My limited French vocabulary does not led itself to excessive detail.  I frequently interrupted myself asking how to say this and that and sharing far more than was necessary.  But I thought I did a fairly good job, considering that before this trip I hadn't done anything with the French language in almost three years.  I am almost inspired to take a French class next year, but I am unfortunately interested in taking many, many classes-and I am afraid I would feel behind the rest of the group.  Considering that I may be switching my major soon, I really do not have the space. Even so, I think I may have to get a copy of Pride and Prejudice or Harry Potter in French and try to read it this summer.  There are a plethora of bookstores on the West Bank of the Seine, finding one should not be a problem. 

No where in my wildest dreams did I picture us spending two and half hours at tea.  But we did, and I was over an hour late meeting Kayla for present shopping and dinner.  I purchased some tea and walked quickly to Notre Dame only to find that she had, not surprisingly, already returned to the hotel.  This was one of those times where I wished to have a cell phone. Then again, I like that I know her well enough to be able to guess, very accurately, what she had done when I did not show up. We have spent almost every single hour of the past eight weeks in each other's company-it's no wonder I know her that well!

I took the metro back to the FIAP and Kayla and I soon left for dinner. Both feeling very hungry, we went to the nearby kebab place. Here, the pile the meat, tomato, lettuce and onion on a sandwhich.  I make a huge mess every single time!  I much prefer a kebab in a tortilla that holds my food in a secure package so it cannot jump out onto the floor.  It's almost embarrasing.

I am still rather tired and did not feel like geting crepes tonight, so we went back to the hotel.  Now I am here, writing a blog.  I'm hoping Casey and Josh will walk in soon so we, with Kayla, can watch some Chuck and I can go to bed at a reasonable time. In the meantime, I will ignore the elderly tour group in yellow scarves who sit awkwardly on the other end of my couch, and try to avoid riding the elevator with pubescent British boys who race through the crowded lobby and holler "Bonjour" at me before their elevator doors close. I wonder if they realize I speak English?

Speaking of English, when Kayla and I got kebabs I successfully ordered all of our food in French.  And, I was riding the elevator earlier and a group of English speaking girls got on. Most exited at the second floor, but one rode higher with me and a French lady.  In an effort to shut the doors, the English girl kept pushing the "open door" button, which obviously was not helping anything.  The French lady, in French explained the problem, and the girl responded, "Desole, je ne parle pas francais."  So I jumped in and translated. That's right, I translated.  Some one else in France knew less French than me.  I'm pretty cool.

Europe Day 51: Snickers Bar and Crepe

Today did not start very well.

I woke up later than I meant and threw on clothes to eat breakfast.

I missed breakfast.

I went back up to the room to take a shower.

I forgot my key in the room.

I got in the room.

I stubbed my pinky toe on the bed.

My toe split open and bled.

All I had to eat for breakfast was apple sauce and a granola bar.

Then I remembered-I had a snickers bar.

Tara from my floor last quarter gave me two snickers bars to take with me to Europe.  I was saving them for a bad day.  This morning seemed fitting.  So I dug it out of my suitecase, only slightly damaged from 51 days of travel, sat down on the floor, and ate my snickers bar.  I savored the crunch of every peanut, and carefully twisted the bar in my hand so that the long strands of carmel would not land on my chin.  It was absolutely wonderful. The world was not out to get me.  The sun was even shining outside! Everything was going to be alright.

Believe it or not, it was.  I made it to class on time, I ate lunch in the cafeteria without being horribly dissapointed, and I worked on homework.  I tried to walk to the grocery store to prepare for a picnic dinner, but could not handle it.  My foot hurt so bad! Instead, Josh, Melissa, and Kayla volunteered to do it for me.  Suddenly very concerned about my pinky toe, I mentioned that I thought it might be broken to Madame B.  Since she was already taking a student to the doctor today, she got me an appointment too.  I hobbled to metro and across town to the doctor.  She was a nice lady who spoke excellent English.  She chocked back a laugh when I told her I stubbed my toe.  I told her it was okay to laugh.  I had figured out the trip really was not necessary thirty minutes before, but by that time the appointment was already made.  I figured that at the very least she would give me a band-aid. And, of course, she did.

Madame, the other student and I went to buy Casey, our TA a cake for his birthday before going to the Luxembourg gardens.  You may recall that the last time I was here, a bird pooped on my head.  This time I did not walk under the trees-I ran.  It was not an experience I wanted to repeat.  Fortunately, the patch of grass we found had trees all around but none over head, so I was safe.  As we waited for the rest of the group to arrive, a little girl, no more than eighteen months old, tottered into our circle, standing in front of me.  I expected her to look up, realize she did not know me and run.  But no!  This adorable little girl in a pink dress with gray polk-a-dots came up to me and gave me a big sloppy kiss on the cheek!  Grinning hugely, she did the same for Madame B. and Kesley!  Then, seeing another pair of females laughing with glee, she ran to them and did the same thing!  It was adorable! She made a dash for another group of people, but her Grandmother caught her hand and led her away.  The moment she let go, little Lilly happily strode toward another group but was scooped off her feet before she could offer more kisses.  That little scene made my day so much better.

The picnic under the trees was comfortable, with everyone seated in a big circle, munching our sandwhiches and later the cake.  When we had finished, Kayla, Josh, Casey and I took the metro to Ilse St. Louise in the middle of the Seine.  Casey led us to his favorite gelato place, but I stayed true to my crepe spot.  The Mediterranean man in his white chef outfit made me a butter and sugar crepe and it was delicious.  I ate gelato in Italy, I will eat crepes in France.  It only seems fitting, at least for today.

Of course, we sat by the river and watched the sun set while enjoying our treats.  This is my absolute favorite way to spend an evening. The water flowing past, a pair of guitarists providing background music, a hot crepe in my hand, and good company at my side.  If Paris had no other wonders, I would still love it for this.

Europe Day 50: Home-ish

One of the things everybody loves about being home is the feeling of familiarity.  You know where your favorite restaurants are, the best ice cream, and the most ideal place to spend an evening.  It only takes a moment to settle in and feel perfectly aquainted with your surroundings once more.  Returning to Paris this morning felt very much like that.

I do not actually like the FIAP so much, with it's uncomfortable lobby furniture and impossible children who push all of the elevator buttons, but I happily joined the applause celebrating our return when that boring building in an odd part of town could be seen down the road.  We have been here before, we know the layout and already understand how everything works.  It is almost like coming home.

Our rooms were not quite ready for us, so Kayla, Josh and I went for lunch while we waited.  Just around the corner we found a kebab place.  Cheap, good food with fries and a drink.  Perhaps not the most healthy, but wonderful none the less.  We finished just as it was time to get our rooms, and happily returned to settle in. The hotel is completely full, so our rooms are scattered across several floors.  Kayla and I are roommates again, and we spent the afternoon unpacking in the provided waredrobes and working on homework.  We will be here for almost two weeks, so we prepared for the long haul.

Dinner consisted of mushy vegetables, very salty ham, and rice that wasn't quite cooked all the way.  Yep, cafeteria food.  While we are here, we get breakfast and either lunch or dinner. It was less than satisfying.  I thought I was getting tired of eating out every night, but I would go back to that in a heartbeat than continue to consume less than appealing FIAP food.

After eating my sort of good meal with Melissa, I got ready to see Pirates of the Carribean 4 "Stranger Tides."  Josh, Casey, Michael, Tyler, Kayla, Ashely, Rachel T., and I rode the surprisingly empty metro to a part of town I was unfamiliar with. We stood in line, anxiously watching the number of available spots shrink seat by seat. Luckily, we managed to get the last few places available.  Even better, the front few rows were still open and we all sat in one long line. The French know how to make their theaters-even in the third row, I did not have to uncomfortably crane my neck to see the screen and everything was squishy.  The seat back, the seat bottom, even the arm rests, wide enough for two elbows to rest, had a three inch layer of padding.  It was fantastic!  The movie was in English with French subtitles.  It was fun to watch with a French audience.  Some times the entire theater erupted with laughter, while other times only our row of Americans caught the pun.  Even though it started poorly, by the end of the movie I felt better educated in Pirate lore and was satisfied with the movie.

I felt like a rogue on the metro ride back.  But, this is France, and acting out like a pirate would have been unacceptable.  So, I sat politely in my seat and discreetly played the movie score with my air violin.  The music continued to roll through my brain as I got ready for bed and finally went to sleep.

Europe Day 49: Tapestry and Naps

I rolled out of bed this morning and got ready to see a tapestry.  Yep, I was not very excited about the prospect.  Then I found out that it is seventy meters, or two hundred and thirty-one feet long.  Suddenly the venture became much more interesting!

The Bayeaux Tapestry, as it is called, describes the story of William the Duke of Normandy who goes to the Battle of Hastings, defeats Harold, and takes the throne of England and is known henceforth as William the Lionheart.  Bishop Odo, William's brother, ordered the tapestry to be made.  As they say, history is written by the winners, and the losers never wrote about what happened, so we simply have to trust that the Bishop told the truth. 

To gain a complete picture of what the tapestry illustrates, we were given audio guides to walk us through the scenes.  I was exceptionally gratefull for that.  Before today, I knew nothing of the battle of hastings.  I would have slowly walked past that colorful tapestry, seen beautiful horses, ornate ships, and lots of soldiers fighting without a clue what was happening.  It actually made for an interesting story, and I rather enjoyed it.

I was the last person on the bus to leave.  There was a second floor to the museum with a plethora of plaques to read about life under King William.  I was all alone and without a watch.  Luckily, Freddy, our beloved bus driver, was washing the windshield of the bus so we had to wait a little after I climbed aboard anyway.

When we returned to the hotel, a group of us went for lunch at the kebab place next door. Afterwards, Kayla and I went shopping.  I bought a black and white polk-a-dot dress.  It's nothing fancy, but I feel that I could wear it to work this summer, so that would be good.

We trudged back to the hotel and I took a nap. It took me a while to fall asleep, but I happily laid there anyway.  Who cared that I had summaries to do, a book to read, journal entries to write, and a cahier to decorate?  Not me! I did not get out of bed until it was time to get dinner. It was fantastic.

For dinner we returned once more to the crepe place.  Tyler was convinced it would not fill him up, so we stopped at a grocery store where he bought some fruit as an appitizer.  Then, Josh, Casey, Kayla, Rachel T., Madame B. and I returned to the crepe place once more.  I enjoyed a crepe with eggs, potato, ham and cheese for dinner, with a carmel crepe for dessert.  The carmel was good, but nothing shall replace a butter and sugar crepe, folded into a triangle, slid into a paper pocker and eaten by the Seine.  That shall always be my favorite crepe.

Upon returning to the hotel late in the evening, I worked on my cahier while we watched Chuck.  Unfortunately, some one else has the disc of Big Bang Theory that our group is on, so we had to switch TV shows for a while. But that's okay, I love Chuck.  And, as it turns out, I love working on my cahier!  This assignment was origionally to take a cahier-a particular sort of notebook sold in France and Italy-and write information and draw pictures about all of the places we visisted.  I tend to write sloppy after a while and hate drawing so I had been putting it off for as long as possible. As luck would have it, Madame B. told us we could make it on the computer instead.  This opened up a whole new world of oppurtunities for me!  Last quarter I took a class about designing pages for newspapers, magazines, etc. on the computer.  Suddenly, I'm supposed to do it for thirty pages of information!  It is so much fun!  I have never been more pleased to procrastinate in my life!

Europe Day 48: Normandy

"I feel black is fitting today," said Kayla as we got ready to leave the hotel this morning.  We were going to visit World War Two monuments, specifically a German Cemetary, the D-Day beaches, an the Normandy American Cemetary and Memorial. 

Before we disembarked at the German cemetary, Madame B. reminded us that many of the men soldiers did not necessarily want to fight, or agree with the German perspective.  I entered the memorial with that in mind.

Upon walking through the entry way, my attention was instantly seized by a hill in the middle of the path way.  On top stood a cross with a figure on either side, probably Mother Mary and Jesus, though I was not sure.  Some how that sight made me realize even more that the opposing side was not a mass of angry, red faced men rapidly casting explosives at the good guys-they were people who needed Jesus as their savior too.

I took measured steps between the headstones.  Initially, I thought they all looked alike and it was a waste of time.  But, upon taking a closer look, each told not only the name of the soldier, but their date of birth and death. Most of those men were nineteen years old.  I started thinking about their mothers who mourned their passing; their high school sweet hearts who so desperately wanted them home.  Other soldiers were in their thirties and fourties.  They probably had families with children.  I'll bet that 32 year old man had a little girl who ran to get a hug when he came home from work.  I'll bet he would toss her in the air and she would giggle and her smile light up his life.  I know that she was very sad when she found out her Daddy would not be coming  home.  I know her life was never the same.

I was taken aback by the number of unknown soldiers who were buried there.  Many headstones simply read "Ein Soldat Deutsch," meaning "One German Soldier."  Some marked the resting place of five unknown German soldiers! Men whose families would never know for certain how they died.  Men who gave up everything for a cause, and prayed to God their life would not be required too.  I know they were the bad guys, but I became rather emotionally distraught anyway.

A second bus ride took us to the D-Day beaches.  Already in a somber mood, I cried a little when I read the plaques describing the battle that took place on that coast line.  I happened to find an English speaking tour group, so I stood and listened to what the guide had to say.  As it turns out, the soldiers who landed on the beach had rockest to fire ropes with hooks on the end so that they could climb and be on the plateau where they would start their inland offensive.  As they crossed the English channel, many of the ropes got wet.  When they were fired high in the sky, they came crashing back down because the rocket did not have enough thrust to carry the entire contraption with it.  Can you imagine what that must have been like?  Rocketing a giant hook in the air, only to have it come crashing back down on top of you.  Your only path forward doubling back and returning to whence it came. How depressing!

I began my walk through the bunkers alone, but was soon joined by Josh.  Conversation kept me from sinking into a terribly melodramatic state, and I appreciated that.  We climbed in and on bunker after bunker, walking between the hundreds of craters that pocketed the ground.  I was amazed at the sheer number of them, not to mention the size!  Most were large enough to fit ten people comfortably, perhaps a little more if everyone stood up.  Even so, a few were small enough that I could have crossed them with in a single stride.  I cannot imagine what it might have been like to function under that heavy fire; things exploding all around, dirt clouds flying up with every resounding "boom."  I imagine myself feeling completely overwhelmed and unable to do anything that the good soliders did that day.

Our final stop of the day was the Normandy American Cemetary and Memorial.  I decided to initially bypass the visitor center and went directly to the graves.  There are 9,387 headstones.  Many headstones simply said: "Here rests in honored glory, a comrade in arms known but to God."  Most other gave the name, position, date of death, and hometown of each man.  While I found no names potentially connected to me, I did see many last names of my friends.  I wonder if I happened to see the grave of some one who I might have known, had they not been in the war.

Near the middle of the cemetary resides a chapel.  The roof is covered in a beautiful mosaic featuring America, sending her sons to Europe, and France offering a laurel branch as a symbol of their gratitude.  The colors were utterly atounding.  I would have gazed at it for a very long time, but it was a small chapel and other people were waiting their turn.

At long last, we returned to the hotel. It was passed regular lunch hours, so we were forced to go to a grocery store to pick up sandwiches for lunch.  I am a little tired of sandwiches, so I decided to treat myself to nectarines and chocolate as well.  Apparently, I don't really like nectarines.

When lunch was finished and the episode of Lost rolled the credits, it was time to do homework.  I have hardly done any this quarter, and it is a little strange trying to settle into getting something accomplished once more.  Very little was completed, but I'm sure with a few more days practice I will get back into the mindset of doing school work and be successful in my endeavors.

Dinner time rolled around and Josh, Casey, Kayla and I headed out to find something to eat.  Little did we realize that none of us were hungry.  After that had been settled, we decided to walk around and explore a bit, since we had not yet really had the timet to do so.  Strolling passed many closed shops I despaired of finding anything interesting, until I heard music drifting down the street.  We decided to investigate and found a band performing in a square off one of the side streets.  It felt very much like Seattle.  Most of the crowd had dread locks and wore chunky, cable knit sweaters and Jasmine pants.  Thick scarves, old sweaters, ratty jeans, fedoras and full skirts abounded.  Everyone wore sandals, but also several layers of clothing to keep warm. The music was pretty good so we stayed for a while.  The band had a very funny name I initially thought was an explitive.  I still am not certain what it means, so I think I'll keep it a secret for now, just in case.

Dinner was kebabs eaten by the river.  The water was incredibly flat, and we found a spot across from an adorable cottage surrounded by greenery.  With a field and walking path behind us, it was almost like we were in a pretty little town, instead of the unattractive Caen.  I really like the people I hang out with.  I've never really felt like I had a group of people I could always rely on to spend time with, but we rarely go to any meal without everyone else, and always have time to watch and a little TV together before bed.  I feel that is a habit that I should soon pass up, but it is always a good laugh. I'm just very tired is the problem.  I know I fell asleep on the bus this morning because I had to wipe some drool off my face when we arrived at the first location. And now, here I am, staying up far past my bed time again.  I am really hoping we get a free morning soon.  Everyone is tired, and I think we need some a chance to sleep in again.  That was one of the things I appreciated about our previous professor-we never had anything to do on Sundays, and we usually had one morning off besides that. But, we mentioned it to Casey, and since he is a nice TA he will probably put a bug in Madame's ear and we will get some more sleep soon.  In the meantime, I am off to bed.  Good night!

Europe Day 47: Abbey Island

The Mountain of Saint Michael, called Mont Saint Michel in French, resides in the middle of a river.  At high tide, no one is able to reach it.  Well, they weren't able to reach it until the government built a bridge that silted up the river and ruined the whole effect.  Now, they are working to remedy the problem by building a different kind of bridge and restoring the river, but that's beside the point.

This island has a grand total of twenty-five people who live there.  Fourteen monks, three priests, and seven lay people.  During the summer time, twenty thousand individuals enter the city in a single day.  Crazy, crazy stuff.

Fortunately, it was not nearly so croweded today.  Freddy, our bus driver, drove us to the city gate and dropped us off.  We soon met our tour guide and she led us through the town and abbey.  She was absolutely fantastic.  I know I rave about Malcom Miller, our tour guide at Chartres, but this lady was almost as spectacular! Although French born and bred, she spoke english with an almost perfect British accent.  She tapped Maile on the nose to prove a point, and rested Michael's hands on Jane and Chelsey's heads to demonstrate how the transcepts of the church were supported by crypts.  She was perpetually cheerful without being annoying, and spoke loudly enough for everyone to hear all of the interesting details she shared with us.  After a long line of guides, except Malcom Miller, who did not talk loud enough, did not speak clear English, and did not have an engaging way to share information, she seemed to be an angel from heaven.

Mont St. Michel is eighty meters high and one kilometer around.  Most of the island is covered by a large abbey founded to civilize the area.  For eighty years after the French Revolution it was not an abby, but a prison.  Sometimes it was refered to as the Bastile de la Mer-or the Prison by the Sea.  I find it an enchanting name, especially considering that it is inaccesible at high tide.

The abbey is still functioning like it always had, though the Benedictine monks who lived there abandoned the abbey, even after it stopped being a prison.  They prefer to live like hermits and avoid people.  The daily flood of tourists was not conducive to their way of life.  Instead, a new order has taken over.  All of these monks have part time jobs in the city, as they dearly wish to bring peace to the world through their interactions with it.  Should one desire to share their way of life, it is even possible to e-mail them because they have a computer.  I found that to be particularly interesting.

Compared to most of the big churches we have seen, I found the abbey to be relatively simple.  Limestone bricks in shades of yellow and cream made up all of the walls.  Neither paintings nor tapestries adorned the walls-even the alter was covered by a simple white cloth surrounded by vases of flowers.  Only the cloister featured elegant carvings between the columns.  When the abbey was built there was not an actual garden here; carvings in the lime stone were the only method of bringing heaven to earth in that little place.  It was not until much later that the lovely pink flowers, thick grass, and plump bushes were added. Being on the third floor, it did not surprise me that they did not have a gurgling fountain to create a calming ambiance.

We explored the sanctuary just before Mass and had the oppurtunity to watch a monk ring the bell, calling the others to orders. He wore a long white robe with a pointed hood that rested on his back.  As he pulled the bell rope, we could see his dark wash jeans, fashionably cuffed at the bottom over top his sandals, though I doubt he was trying to make a fashion statement.  Very methodically, he reached high on the rope and pulled it back down without pause.  From inside the sanctuary the melodious tones were muffled, but as we stepped outside to make room for the crowd arriving to celebrate mass, the clanging could be heard loud and clear.  I had never before considered that the church bell would be hard to hear inside the church.  An interesting concept.

After our spectacular tour, I wandered into the gift shop and lost my usual lunch buddies.  Instead, I ate kebabs with Michael and Ethan, before we walked down the hill to look at the shops.  We soon lost track of each other in the maze of pottery and t-shirts, so I spent the rest of the afternoon alone.  I found a christmans ornament with the island painted on it, and I am very pleased with that purchase.  I have wanted one to commemorate the trip, but this was the first ornament I had found that featured something european, instead of just being an ordinary Christmas decoration.  I know, Christmas is not for another seven months, so it makes sense that I would have that problem.

I returned to the bus and was met with a dance party.  Freddy had found some techno music on the radio, so we took full advantage of the oppurtunity.  It was fantastic!

I slept on the way to the island, waking up only to watch a shephard and his sheep dogs push a flock of fluffiness across the road.  But the drive back featured lots of lovely, green countryside.  With the sheep scattered across the fields, and the towering spire of Mont Saint Michel in the background, it was a highly picturesque scene. 

Shortly after returning to the hotel, Josh, Tyler, Casey, Kayla, Melissa and I headed out for dinner. Everyone else decided to stop into a grocery store, but neither Melissa nor I were interested, so we ditched them.  But in a very nice way of course.  They went into the grocery store, we kept walking.  You could almost say they ditched us.

Anyways, it was 6:30 when Melissa and I started looking for a place to eat, but people in France eat dinner late, so nothing was open until 7.  In the meantime, we sat on the grass outside the castle walls and swapped stories.  Eventually we found a place to eat.  I had a crepe with potato, cheese, egg, mushroom, and meat inside, followed by a crepe with apple compote on top.  It was a crepey meal that took two hours to eat.  The whole time, Melissa and I probably learned more about each other than we had ever known about each other before.  Suffice it to say, it was a really fantastic dinner.  I just can't get over what a good time I had!

Upon returning to the hotel, Josh, Casey, Kayla and I watched Big Bang Theory.  Now, it is again, long past my bed time and I need to sleep.  So, once more, I bid you goodnight, from Caen, France.

Europe Day 46: More Bus

Despite all of our driving yesterday, today we drove some more.

Again, I slept.  Again, I watched two episodes of Lost.  I listened to my ipod. At long last, we arrived.  We are in a city called Caen near Normandy.

After settling in, a group of us headed out for dinner.  The outskirts of town, were we are located, are rather modern, ugly, and "urban" looking.  In the middle of the city is a castle, and here things are much more charming.  A little city center area features absolutely adorable, old fashioned looking restaurants and cafes.  We chose to eat a creperie.  I had a dish similar to scalloped potatoes, salad, and a chocolate crepe.  I can't tell you what was so fantastic about this meal.  Yes, the food was good.  Yes, the company was good.  Both of which seem to be rather standard on this trip.  But for some reason I look back on tonight's dinner with a particularly fond feeling. Maybe I just really really like crepes.  I think I ought to learn to make those-it might make me happier person.

Now, I am finally caught up with all of the blogs.  We will have internet every night from here on out.  Hopefully, I will consistently write a blog before I sleep, and not have to do two or three a night several days late.  But now, I will sleep.  Our Professor's policy of not waking up early apparently does not apply very often, and I have to be out of bed in less than eight hours. 

Europe Day 45: Bus

I rode a bus for eight hours today.  I watched two episodes of lost, napped, and listending to my ipod.  I still don't have a book to read.

We reached our hotel, walked to the grocery store, bought chips, salsa, and mushrooms for dinner. Returned to hotel, ate, did homework, and slept.

Perhaps not the most exciting day of european quarter?  But, we are halfway across the country, and halfway to our next destination!

Europe Day 44: Beach!

With no academic plans for the day we decided to go to the beach! I really wasn't too sure I wanted to go-I had no book to read, nothing to swim in, and didn't really want to talk to anyone. I mentioned this to Lucy and she asked, "Do you not like the beach?"  Then I realized, I love the beach!  What am I thinking?  So I quick put together a back pack and headed out to the bus, happily settled on going.

Our bus driver, Freddy, though truly amazing, got lost, so it took much longer to get there than it should have. But that was okay-a group of us sitting towards the front sang Mamma Mia songs by Abba.  These continued as we disembarked and waited for the train that would take us to the beach.  It was not really a train because it did not ride on tracks, but the front looked like a little engine and our seats were arranged like train cars.  It was kind of like going on a carnival ride, except we went far too slow. I tried putting my hands in the air as we went down hill, but it just was not the same.

First order of business in town was to find lunch. Baby bell cheese, bread, and a pear.  I would usually get an apple, but the mere thought of eating an apple repulses me-I have had far too many in the recent past!  Oddly enough, apple sauce is still okay with me.

We walked to the beach and enjoyed a picnic lunch.  I walked down to the water, pretended to push Melissa in, and looked longingly at the beautiful blue waves.  In a brief moment of stupidity I decided to leave my swim suit in America.  It is the one thing I wish I had brought that I didn't.

I laid on the beach and listened to music for an hour or two after that, before a group decided to go kayaking! I was so excited!  I love kayaking!  Kayla and I shared a double, as did Liz and Jane and Ruth and Jill.  Casey and Tyler were independent in their singles.  I briefly envied them as they managed to quickly climb aboard their kayaks and shoot out across the water.  But a double is necessary for me.  I do not steer very well and have weak arms. I would not get very far alone and would take far to long to get back should I take a single. Having some one else with me is just more fun anyway!

Kayla and I took our kayak into the water, ready to climb aboard and head out.  We went in a few feet, and I instructed her to climb aboard since she was in the back.  As she worked to do so, the kayak turned parrallel to the beach and in line with the waves.  A huge white cap rolled in out of nowhere! It forcefully pushed the kayak into me, knocking me off my feet.  I laughed good naturedly and the sand in my pants as I stood back up, then dashed out of the way as another wave threatened to trip me once more.  The kayak man then pulled us aside and gave us some instructions.  We were almost doing it right, we just needed to be in deeper water.  Kayla and I waded out once more, and she climed in without a problem. I had a few more issues.  Waves kept coming and, buoyed by my life jacket, lifted me off the ground.  I couldn't seem to stay on the ground long enough to jump in! Fortunately, a group of non-kayakers were nearby, and Julie came into the water and held the canoe steady so I could get in.  Finally, bruised and slightly bleeding, we managed to paddle to the open water. 

The sea breeze meant rolling waves were constantly threatening to topple us if we did not remain pointed in the right direction.  Tyler was skimming across the water like a pro, until a wave tipped his kayak over.  He had been the only one to declare falling an impossibility, and I couldn't help but laugh at his bad luck.  In his defense, he was taking many more risks than the rest of us, so it wasn't too surprising that he was the one to tip. 

Our little red and yellow kayak served us well.  Under Kayla's excellent navigation, we never tipped over.  She steered, I sang every single song I could think of that mentioned boats, water, and all things nautical.  I sang about gin, the Virgin Mary, sailors, lazy pirates, lovers, and not worrying.  Luckily, Kayla likes to sing to, or else she might have tossed me overboard as my cracking, scratchy, screeching voice belted out half remembered lyrics.

After an hour of ferocious paddling and several long breaks, we returned to the beach to gather our things and return to the bus once more.  The ride back was much shorter, for which I was gratefull.  I dashed through town in search of something fun to read, but met the man locking the door of the used book store as it closed for the night. Instead, I bought a few groceries for tomorrow and returned to the hotel.

It was a fantastic day-I am so glad I didn't let my mopiness keep me in the hotel.  I may never get the chance to kayak in the mediterranean again! It was well worth the sunburn on my shoulders, chest, face, and even my calves.  Luckily we have some great cream called "post helios" to apply after a sunburn.  It is great!

Europe Day 43: Picasso

Today I visited the oldest peice of plumbing in the world. It is the second largets Roman structure still standing, measuring in at only six feet less than the coliseum.  This Roman Aqueduct is much shorter than it used to be, but remains an impressive structure none the less.

A blustery wind blew all day long.  We crossed the aqueduct in our summer time clothes with our hair blowing crazily in the wind.  I am incredibly impressed with how solid it still is, standing there after so many years.

Frankly-there was not much to do there.  We crossed the aqueduct, we went under the aqueduct.  We took pictures, we left.  The pictures are really cool though!

Our afternoon was spent in Arles.  This city inspired Picasso to paint two hundred paintings in just a few years!  Initially, I did not get why.  The modern area of town is fully of dull industrial buildings that all look the same, but as we kept walking and it got more interesting!  A huge ampitheater sits in the middle of town, and it is surrounded by cute cafes and adorable shops full of locally made gifts. 

Since it was Sunday, most of the cafes were closed.  We ate lunch across the street from the tourist office.  The wind blew water glasses off the tables around us, I accidently squirted Josh with vinegar, and Melissa, Kayla and I all got the food.  We thought perhaps we said the wrong thing, but nope.  They just made us the wrong food.  But it was still good so we did not complain.  Alli on the other hand, definitely ordered something she should not have.  No one could quite translate the dish she was considering, so she ordered it on a whim.  It was some very delicious steak on a pile of quinoa.  Alli is a vegetarian.  So we took her steak, shared our salad, and everyone got a taste of everyone else's meal.  It was a memorable luncheon.
We wandered through town and ended up at the river.  High banks rose on either side of the sparkling blue water with a lovely sidewalk on top. The wind blew so hard it pushed me forward every time I fell behind the group.  By the time we left my hair was a complete rat's nest.  It stayed fluffy all day long.

For dinner we went to a Chinese place!  It seems to be a little, European Quarter tradition for us.  I never eat Chinese in America, but it just tastes so good here!  I had curry chicken, and a fried bread thing with apple in the middle "au flambe."  In other words, it was on fire when they gave it to me!  It didn't burn too long, but I still enjoyed it.

MAY 25th, 2011 Edit: That should be Van Gogh, not Picasso.  Sorry.

Europe Day 42: Three Little Towns

If you have not been to the South of France, I highly recommend it. 

Instead of spending the day in Avignon, today we toured the country a bit.  It was fantastic!

Our first stop was Isle-sur-la-Sorgue.  A river runs through and around this colorful little city, so that a wandering tourist constantly crosses bridges as they admire the little shops.  Orange, yellow, and cream colored houses have back porches snuggled up along the rushing water.  Rich green plants add another tone to the scene, making such a pretty picture.  This was my favorite place that we visited today.  I loved hearing the water rush by, almost anywhere we went! Walking past the tightly packed shops, a gap would suddenly appear, offering yet another view of the water, surrounding by charming buildings and luscious green plants.

Alas, our visit lasted for only an hour and a half before we were off once more.  This time, we drove to a village on a mountain called Gordes.  This city is built from aged white rocks.  All of the buildings look fairly similar, though the shops stood out for the wares readily displayed along the sidewalk.  We took a few moments to admire a view of vineyards and farms stretching out from the city before tracking down lunch.  A Boulangerie caught our eye.  They offered a salty thing, a swet thing, and a soda for an excellent price.  So, I ordered a mushroom quiche, chocolate eclair, and diet coke. 

A large group of us wandered to a square to enjoy our lunch.  The wind was picking up, and just as I finished my quiche it started to rain. Not enough to chase me away, but heavy enough to push several others under the leafy protection of a tree.  Feeling very much like I am from Seattle, I ate my eclair in the rain.

I ate an eclair for you.  A chocolate eclair is a wonderful thing.  The doughtnut bar is stuffed with a smooth chocolate filling that squeezed out the end when I took a bite.  A crisp, sugary chocolate frosting is thickly layered on top.  The smooth interior and gritty exterior harmonize with the doughnut in every bite until the symphony of flavors has runs its course and remains only a musical memory in the mouth. I plan to eat many more of these!

As lunch ended we had to return to the bus for the last adventure of the day.  Roussillon, France was its name. The mountains in the area are made of a particular red stone that makes the region famous, and nearly every building in the city is made with that red-orange rock.  Just as we entered the town it started pouring down rain! Buckets and buckets crashed on our heads and Kayla squealed and we ran for safety.  I stood under the dry cover laughing for only a moment before proudly declaring: "I am a Seattlite!  The rain does not scare me!"  I then boldy dashed up the hill and around the corner following the sings for the viewpoint.  The rain stopped before I reached the summit.  Another rich view greeted by eyes.  A forest of dark green trees made a stark contrast with the red mountians.  Closer in I could see the speckled clay rooftops and bright blue accents painted on the shutters and doors.  As we took pictures of the view the thunder rolled.  Kayla declared we out not take our jumping pictures in case the lightening came.  I decided to dance with death and took one anyway.  I felt bold.

Wet, but warm I clambered back onto the bus with everyone else. I listened to Les Miserables on the way back to the hotel, and was incredibly content for it. 

If I could, I would live in the South of France forever I think.

Europe Day 41: Sleep

Almost free day! This moring held no responsibilites, and there was nothing I needed to do that could not wait, so I slept in.  My spectacular roommates were so quiet that I manged to sleep straight through until 10 o'clock!  To many college kids that may not sound late, but the last time I tried sleeping in, my internal alarm woke me up at 7.  Therefore, I felt victorious.

I had missed breakfast, so I ate an apple sauce and a granola bar in the courtyard of the hotel.  This courtyard is the only place-other than the breakfast room-where we are allowed to eat.  Luckily, it was a beautiful day.  I was more than happy to sit outside, eat my breakfast, and work on homework. 

Homework persisted for most of the afternoon.  I took a break at 1 for lunch, and finished two hours later.  I still had time before class so I decided to go shopping. Sadly, this was one of those shopping days were you leave the house all excited to buy something new to wear in the sunshine, but leave the store utterly defeated; no colorful plastic bag in hand concealing something exciting inside.  Just when I found a store that looked like  a winner, I had to get back to the hotel for class.  I do not have a wrist watch, so I was carrying my alarm clock in my purse.  It's battery operated. It got the job done, though I wonder if people noticed a blue light shining on my face as I dug through my purse for something.

After class I walked with Jeanie to the grocery store.  We stopped at H&M and I got a pair of shorts I had tried on earlier.  I'm not sure I really like the way they look, but they are long enough to completely conceal my underwear, very inexpensive, and extremely comfortable, so I decided to go for it.  So what if they look like something that might be found in a nursing home?  The next day another girl on the trip was wearing the exact same pair, so I must have made a good choice.

Evening found a large group of us headed out for dinner together.  I sat next to our Professor, Madame B.  Until this trip I had never interacted with her, but I think I like her.  She happened to allude to needing help organizing a basement this summer, and I spent the remainder of the meal hinting at my organizational skills and positive attitude in hopes of landing an extra job.  I'm not actually sure if she was serious, but I plan to talk myself up for the rest of the trip, just in case.

Europe Day 40: Pope's House

Palais de Pope-the palace where the Pope lived when he was in Avignon instead of Rome.  It was a time of policital and religious unrest, and there were two Popes.  One of them lived in the palace we visited today.

After walking through the giant dining room, standing in an oven as big as my bedroom, and admiring the heavily decorated bedroom, we climbed a tower and looked out on the city.  The view was, of course, lovely.  To make things better was the music drifting up from the square below.  An accordian and a bongo drum played cheerful songs while we took photos from above and listened to our tour guide.  The sun was shining, a beautiful river flowed by, and the colorful town waited patiently for us to explore the skinny streets.

As soon as we had finished the tour, Melissa and I wandered off into the city. I dearly wished for sandals so my toes could enjoy the sunshine, and we found a shoe store straight away.  They were advertising a huge close out sale, where most shoes were 5-8 euro.  I was in that stinkin' store forever!  As it turns out, thirty-sevens and thirty-eights must be incredibly popular, because they had almost none! Finally, after she patiently waited for me for at least a half hour, Melissa walked over to the wall, and three shoe boxes later, had found me a pair of sandals.  I think they look a little like gladiator shoes, which makes me wish I could go back to the coliseum, but I'm sure we will soon find other Roman ruins on which I can pretend to be a gladiator in my new sandals.

Lunch found us at an outdoor cafe.  Most restaurants and cafes have "menus," which is a fixed price for a pre-selected appitzers, entree, dessert, and sometimes one other plate.  A half menu has a appitzer and entree, or entree and dessert.  I went with the second choice and had duck and ice cream.  I was very happy with my choice.

Europe Day 39: Hotel Rules

Today is the day we drove from Annemasse, France to Avignon, France.  The drive was fairly uneventful; just many hours on the bus reading The Other Boleyn Girl.

When we arrived I was starving.  Soon after settling in, a group of us left to find a grocery store. I got some lunch before returning to the hotel.  I was absolutely determined to finish the book today.  It is a book about power hungry people going to great lengths to get what they want.  It was making me cranky and I just wanted to be finished with it.  So I did.

By the time dinner rolled around, and I had finished the book, most of the class was out on a walking tour of the city.  I was hungry, so instead of waiting for everyone to return, I walked back towards the main road to get dinner.  I tried to resist, I really did.  But it was my first night in the city, I did not recognize any of the names of the other restaurants.  I felt myself irresistably pulled into McDonalds.  I got a hamburger, fries, and a coke for five euro-an excellent deal. 

I sat in a park by a church and enjoyed my food. Before I had quite finished the french fries, a tan man wearing a green polo told me that the park closed in two minutes, so I needed to leave as soon as I finished.  The white embrodery on his shirt told me he was the guardian of the garden.  I giggled a little behind his back before returning to the hotel.

Casey, Josh, Kayla, Ashely and I have been watching a show called Big Bang Theory in the evenings before we go to bed.  We had planned to meet to watch an episode in Casey's room at 9:45.  All of their rooms are next to each other, while I am on the other side of the hotel.  A little after 9:30 I left to watch TV with them.  As I crossed the center of the hotel, where there is a stair case and small lounge, an official looking man stopped me and asked which room was mine.  He worked for the hotel, so I pointed to the hallway behind me.  Then he informs me that after half past nine, guests are not allowed to go to other rooms.  They must stay in their room or leave the hotel.  Not being one to argue with the rules, I turned around and left. 

A few minutes later, Kayla pops up at my door and asks me to come.  I quickly share with her my predicament.  The man, apparently, was not there when she came to get me, so I quickly logged off facebook and followed her out the door in a covert attempt to watch TV.  The man had returned!  I didn't even leave my hallway and dashed back in my room, before he could tell me the rule I knew I was going to break.  The last thing I saw was Kayla striding down the hallway and the man following her.  After that, I decided I was defeated and settled in for the night.  Fortunately, I still had Ashely's dvd case and was able to watch Pride and Prejudice before I went to bed.  Not quite the night I was hoping for, but with the hotel would not allow me to do others.  Amazing the contrast between America and France.  I sincerly doubt a hotel like this with rules like that would be able to stay open for long!

Europe Day 38: Museum That Beat Me

I've mentioned it many times-I am a huge museum buff.  But today, for the first time ever, I was put in a museum that did not catch my fancy.

The Reformation Museum.

Perhaps discussing John Calvin and Ulrich Zwingli provoke harsh memories of a difficult European History AP test.  Perhaps discussing deep theology is not my thing. Perhaps even I cannot handle so much history.  But, it is more likely to me that I got so quickly bored because all of the plaques were in French, and instead of a human guide we were given audio guides that made it impossible to take notes while holding the monstrosity up to your ear. Whatever the case, my friends did not have to wait long for me to get out of there before eating lunch.

We went for a picnic once more, and sat in the same grassy area.  We were all exhausted and desperately in need of a relaxing day.  So, we did absolutely nothing all day long.  It was glorious.

To be more exact, I read my book called The Other Boleyn Girl.  Beautifully written, but I did not enjoy it.  It is all about an ambitious family that forced their daughters to do immoral things so that they may become the king's favorite and they can have power.  It is based on King Henry VIII, two of his wives, and one of his mistresses.  I did not like it.  They are all cranky and do not care about each other past what a kind word will get them.  Nevertheless, I read that book from noon until 7pm, when it was time to return to the hotel.  I consider it a day well spent.  Switzerland is rather expensive, so even if I had had the energy to do something else, I do not think I would have wanted to.  I do not regret my day on the grass one single bit.

Europe Day 37: Peacocks

For most of my life when I saw the Red Cross symbol, I thought of romantic, black and white World War Two movies where nurses with dark pasts cleaned, sewed, and bandaged the wounds of handsome soldiers, injured in defense of their country.

The Red Cross is so much more than that.

This movement stands for helping people around the word who are in need.  They provide medical care, but they also work with disaster relief, displaced indivduals, and even work to gather lists of prisoners of war, to tell their families of their situation.  They work for the benefit of human rights around the world. 

Article one of the Universal Declaration of Human Rights states: "All  human beings are born free and equal in dignity and rights.  They are endowed with reason and conscience and should act towards one another in a spirit of brotherhood."  This is the attitude the Red Cross is trying to promote-where people behave well towards and take care of one another.

The first exhibit in the Red Cross museum features five different statements from different countries, different faiths, and in different languages all concerning the importance of caring for one another.  Whether Christian, Cunfucius, or Islamic, the idea is still valid; that those who can ought to take care of those who cannot.  This is a belief I heartily believe in.  There are so many people in the world who are suffering, but there are also many people in the world living in excess.  If only the great scale of justice could be tipped back into the proper balance, perhaps a great deal of the pain in the world could be eliminated. But alas, in every portrait I have seen, Justice is always blindfolded.

I did not expect to so completely enjoy the Red Cross museum, but I found it rather inspirational.  Yet again, my comrades were forced to drag me away from the plaques and displays so we could go eat lunch.  It is kind of them to so consistently wait for me.  I do try to hurry along, but I do not want to waste the oppurtunity I have in front of me. 

Lunch was a picnic in the park by Lake Geneva.  When the food was all gone we continued to sit and relax on the lush grass.  Unfortunately the grass was crawling with bugs. I was constantly flicking little black beetles and lightening quick ants off of my knees.  Many song birds gathered around, but instead of eating the bugs they just, danced and hopped near our food.  Kayla was determined to shoo them away, but I fed them snacks instead.  It made me think of my Grandpa Kent, who has several bird feeders and a bird bath in his backyard.  When I was a kid and they asked me what kind of animal I wanted to be, I would say I wanted to be a bird.  Then, I could fly around the world and see all the wonderful things there are to see before flitting to Grandma and Grandpa's and living in their delightful back yard. 

I was not feeling too well after lunch, but I was determined to make the trek from the park back to the Red Cross museum, which just so happened to be across the street from United Nations, Geneva.  Yep, I toured the United Nations.  Nope, it was not nearly as thorough of a tour as I would have liked.  A cheerful blonde women, working on her Masters, led us from room to room.   My favorite place was the largest conference room in the building.  This place had spots for 2,000 countries!  In each conference room, she pointed out where the press were allowed to sit.  Several new reporters sit there on such a regular basis that they have offices in the building.  As we strode down the halls, my imagination flicked between two futures.  The first involved me sitting on a bench in the hallway, putting the finishing touches on an article about an arms treaty.  Deadline was rushing to meet me, and I had no time to return to my office.  I might also stride through the halls of the United Nations in a business suit, ready to give a presentation on the next hot topic of human rights.  One young girl, out to save the world.  I could see it happening.

Perhaps the most interesting, least known fact about the UN-they have three peacocks in their garden.