La fin du chemin français (pour maintenant): Partie 2

A group of us, me, Roz, Abbey, Michelle, and Kate, left for Amsterdam via Brussels the following morning, flying Marseille to Brussels, then busing it from Brussels to Amsterdam. While waiting for our connecting bus at the Brussels airport, Roz and I treated ourselves to some of Belgium’s finest affairs: the French fry. Sold in a cone with a variety of dipping sauces, they were hands down the best fries I’ve ever had in my life, and I checked that off my list of Belgian foods to have. It also included chocolate, waffles, and beer, and I had every intention of checking the rest off my list. We took the subway into Amsterdam city proper, and I giggled all the way at the completely unfamiliar Dutch words, appreciating each sign that we saw.

Once in Amsterdam, it was already dinner time, so we made our way to the Pancake Corner in Leidseplein Square, where we ended up eating three different times. Pancake House Round One: ribs, a baked potato, and a salad. Oh man, was it good. And I’m not even big on red meat. We picked up Kate’s friend, Joe, from the train station after dinner and headed back to the hostel with incredibly obnoxiously colored and textured wallpaper that actually worked really well for the place. We explored the city for a while that night, wandering around and appreciating the brightly colored lights and leaning Dutch architecture that fits the city so well.

In the morning, we set out for the “I Amsterdam” sign at Museum Park, where we posed, climbed, and avoided stomping on the small children who were doing the same things, though much more aptly than we were. The parks and general activity level of Europeans is something that I always appreciated walking around the cities. Parents with children, groups of tweens, couples, and the elderly are constantly walking around the parks, sitting on the benches, playing with their dogs, or just being outside.

After the sign, we trekked to the Anne Frank House where we encountered a massive line and decided to come back another time. Instead, we had a coffee and lunch at the Pancake House. The Netherlands are known for their pancakes, but I didn’t think it was possible for them to be so delicious. I had a pancake with meats, cheeses, and peppers, called the Hungarian, and I was unsure about not putting sugary business on a pancake, but I’m so glad I did. Delicious.

After lunch we set off for the Van Gogh Museum (pronounced van-gog! Who knew?) and spent a few hours looking at his paintings along with those of several other artists. Van Gogh spent a significant part of his life in southern France, so a number of the paintings looked familiar to us because, well, we lived there! Scenes of Mount St. Victoire, Cassis, the café at Arles. Connections to artwork like this make me appreciate my time in France so much more, and I can’t believe how lucky I am to have been where I have been. I also found the cover of my favorite author’s book (David Sedaris’ When You Are Engulfed in Flames), which is apparently a Van Gogh painting. Again, who knew?

We called it an early night and went back to the hostel where I promptly proceeded to fall asleep before 8:00pm, waking up the next morning when Roz shook me awake at almost 9:00am. Needless to say, I was well rested! We made the Anne Frank House our first stop in an effort to avoid the lines, but no such luck. Almost two hours and several souvenirs later, we were finally admitted and walked through the downstairs that functioned as the warehouse where Otto Frank worked before making our way to the Secret Annex where the two families spent around two years in hiding. Words can’t describe the somber attitude of the dozens of people that we toured the house with, the unbelievable tragedies and atrocities of World War II running through everyone’s minds. It was a humbling experience.

After the house, we made our way back through the streets of Amsterdam which deserve some attention. First, EVERYONE is on a bike, and the bike traffic is super dangerous if you’re not accustomed to it. We weren’t. The bikers have their own mini-lane on the sidewalks or streets that are almost all curved and pass over the series of canals that run through the city. Bikes are locked up and parked everywhere all along the streets. They sit in front of angled and lop-sided looking buildings as far as the eye can see. Which is again dangerous to focus on for fear of walking into a bike path. Or a tram path. Instead of buses, the trams serve as the city’s form of public transport, making the streets four times as wide as a typical street in some places, but only big enough for a tram to run through in others. Hectic.

We walked through the Red Light district during the day where there were still windows open and prostitutes sitting in the windows in lingerie, either painting their nails, posing on the chairs or against the walls, or just looking out. This was the only time we walked through the streets, and I’m glad that it was. Maybe ninety percent of the windows were closed, but based on the stories I’ve heard of men walking along, coming and going, threatening looking pimps guarding the doors, I think I got my fill. The diversity of Amsterdam still astonishes me.

That night, I watched the Champions League final, Chelsea versus Bayern Munich, which was one of the more exciting games I've seen in a very long time. I even had some friendly banter back and forth with the guy working the desk at the hostel as the teams went into overtime. With no goals in overtime, they went into penalty kicks, which really suck as a player, but are fantastically exciting as a spectator. I was on my feet by the end of the game when Drogba sunk the winning PK, winning the championship for Chelsea. WOO! Immediately after the game, we made our way out to celebrate Michelle's twenty-first birthday. After such a great couple of days and my team's win, I couldn't have been in better spirits. We danced the night away and were even let into a club for free, the bouncer waving us through, just like in the movies. Couldn't have asked for a better last night in Amsterdam.

We took off the next day for Brussels where we sought out our Belgian beer, chocolate, and waffles and promptly accomplished our mission. We wandered the streets on the way back since it was nearly eleven and everything was closing up, but we did get to see the Mannequin Pis, or the “peeing statue.” Literally. The statue is of a little boy peeing. It’s got to be the funniest famous monument I’ve ever seen. Those Belgians! We also saw some great architecture and ended up in this great big square, surrounded by what looked like a great big cathedral and a parliament-type building, but it was so dark and nothing was open we couldn’t quite tell. I would definitely like to make the trip back to Brussels and spent some proper time there instead of just passing through.

We returned to Aix the next morning where I began to study again for my two last exams the following day. Not the best scheduling on my part, but I think the exams went as well as I could have hoped, though I still have yet to receive my final grades, even though it’s been two months now. Biggest European criticism: efficiency. I mean, good grief.

With the load of exams off my back, I spent the next several days packing up, cleaning the apartment, and catching every ray of sun that I could at Marseille, as well as saying goodbye/see you later to my dear friends.

Caitlin, my dear, I had so much fun traipsing through Italy and Croatia with you, and I don’t know anyone that can make me laugh at the most outrageous things like you can, and I love you for it! You see the beauty in everything, and I congratulate you on graduation, knowing that you’re going to do great things.

Carly, roomie, thank you for being a great friend and wonderful roommate. There aren’t many people you can share such close quarters with and still get along, and I’m so glad we both fell in love with the yellow apartment where we shared and hosted so many great memories. You were always there for me to lend an ear or advice, and I totally miss your crepes!

Roz, where do I start? You were one of the very first people I had a real conversation with in Aix, and you turned out to be the greatest friend I could have hoped for. We did so much together, went so many places, and got to know each other so well, and I had the best times with you. You’re a true, loyal, genuine friend, and I love you for it! Thanks for being there, and for keeping me in line with that look of yours that we all know, fear, and love.

Thank you girls, grand bisou mes salopes!

I took off from Marseille on May 29 for London, where I fondly remembered my trip through the UK, as well as Australia since so many of the brands and the stupid spelling are the same. When I touched down in Chicago, a heavy relief flooded me to be back in the states where things are familiar, efficient, and spelled correctly! As I watched the security tape play on repeat, the waving American flag and American accented “Welcome to the United States of America” choked me up every time. And it was a long line through customs. I paid for my Sam Adams draft at the Chicago bar with American money and left a tip for the bartender, all unusual yet familiar things.

When I finally landed in Cincinnati, I nearly burst out of the plane and sprinted through the deserted hallways of CVG international airport at 11:30pm and around the corner where I surprised my family, the plane having landed a bit early. This was unfortunate considering the time and effort my awesome sister put into a t-shirt and light up sign welcoming me home, but nothing else seemed to matter, other than that I was home and with my family.

Here and there,
Kiley

La fin du chemin français (pour maintenant): Partie 1

Well, I’ve really dropped the ball on this last French post…sorry everyone. I still wanted to recap the last of my adventures and reflect on my whole experience this past year, because it is one I will never forget with people who made every second away from home not just bearable, but better in every way than I could have hoped.

I left you in Aix with a week left to go in Europe. That Friday was the APA group fin de l’année dinner where we all got dressed up and got together for one last meal à la français while watching the slideshow our advisers put together. It was great to see everyone all together, since so many of us had divided into smaller groups based on our traveling schedules or classes. It was even more bizarre to realize I hadn’t even met everyone in the group! Part of me is worried that I missed out on opportunities to meet people, but I can’t imagine spending my time with anyone other than the girls with whom I became such good friends.

At the end of the night, Emily, Roz, and Caitlin came back with Carly and I to hang out as a group one last time. Unfortunately, I had to pack for my trip to Paris the following morning to meet my extended family, so I didn’t hang out so much as run around frantically marking things off my list.

The following morning, I caught the train up to Paris and met my family just outside of Paris in what I guess you would call the suburbs of the city. Quick family note: my grandfather was French and migrated to the US after World War II, but his sister stayed in France where she started her family just as my grandpa did stateside. Having this personal connection is a large part of what motivated my French studies and made me want to go to France. The relatives I stayed with are technically my second- and third-cousins. I’d been to their home once before when I was fourteen and spent three weeks of the summer with them. The family sends and receives each other’s kids for a bit of time over the summer to help expose the other half to a new culture and practice their language skills. But I digress.

It had been years since I’d seen my French family, they were so welcoming to me, and it was so great to see them. Especially in France while speaking French! And understanding it! I went into the city to do some shopping with two of my cousins, Anne-Zoé and Alix, and eventually Alix and I split off to meet up with her friends. We picked up a few bottles of rosé and headed to the Seine where she and her friends talked and bickered over incredibly similar things as my American friends and I do: what other friends are up to, movies and television, politics (this was just before Hollande was elected!), etc. I didn’t catch entire conversations, but I was glad to generally keep up! After drinks, Alix and I went to her boyfriend’s house where he and another couple of friends were making dinner. We spent the night talking, drinking, and listening to music, and I was again comforted by the familiarity of simply spending a night having dinner with friends.

Alix and I woke up the next morning and went back to her parents’ house where the rest of the family was gathering for a big brunch. Some of the second-cousins (who are really more like aunts and uncles, since they’re my grandpa’s sister’s kids and the same ages as my aunts and uncles here) I had met on my previous trip, and it was entertaining to meet them again seven years later, more grown up and with a much better grasp on their language! I had a similar reaction to meeting my then-four-now-eleven and then-seven-now-fourteen year old third-cousins, but I was able to communicate and take part in the conversation.

It also made me miss home so incredibly much, not only because they were asking and were interested in how this side of the family is doing, but they also assured me of how proud my grandpa would be of me. He passed away over three years ago now, but I haven’t felt so close to him as I did then, hearing my French family talk about him and share stories of when he visited them. The family dynamic was also so similar to my own at home that it made me that much more homesick too.

Later in the afternoon, the family started to disperse and I took off as well to find Jackie and her good friend, Abby, who were on their six-week post-graduation trip of Europe. I found them at the hostel and we spent the next few days gallivanting around Paris hitting a number of the national monuments that I’d seen but not really experienced. We went inside Notre Dame and the Louvre on our first afternoon together, then headed to the Champs de mars for a picnic on the lawn in front of the Eiffel Tower.

The next day was spent just outside the city at Versailles and traipsing around the city again, as well as taking some much needed recovery and relaxation time in the hostel.

Once recovered, Jackie and I opted to trek up the street and huge hill to Montmartre and Sacre Coeur where we saw the lights of the city come on, sitting on the steps at the highest point in Paris. We sat talking for a long time about life and where it’s taking us over the Heinekens a man was walking around and selling out of the box. Jackie was about to depart for Barcelona, Italy, and a handful of other places having just started her travels in London and Paris, and I was preparing to go home to the states for an indefinite period of time after ten months abroad, and we were both nervously excited of what would come of our post graduate lives. Still, sitting and discussing it over a drink in one of the most glamorous cities in the world, having traveled around the world together, we decided that things are going to be okay. And that we would keep traveling, no matter what.

It was a sad goodbye the following morning, but I had to catch my train back to Aix for … GRADUATION! Since a few of us were finishing our undergraduate careers in France and missed our ceremony at our respective home campuses, some of the girls decided to send us off in the finest French style. Tessa delivered the most brilliant commencement address I’ve ever had the pleasure to hear, and then we were presented with diplomas (mine is a major in English and French, with a minor in “International Gnome Relations”) and a sunflower. We finished with another picnic in the park, everyone enjoying each other’s company and another sunny day in Aix.

I had planned to only write one post, but this seems like a good stopping point for now, and there’s a lot to tell about our trip to Amsterdam and Brussels, as well as my last week in Aix and some more goodbyes.

On another side note, to all of you who I met in Australia exactly one year ago, my thoughts are forever with you: in the form of daydreams, actual dreams, my obsessive search for plane tickets back to Sydney, and in every last techno-pop-y kind of song that I hear, as well as every other photo I see or outfit I wear, including the I-House soccer t-shirt I’m currently wearing. I can’t begin to tell you all how much I miss you and wish that our session had never ended.

To my family who has made coming home more than worth it and the idea of leaving again violently turn my stomach - no matter how badly I think I want to take off again - I love you and am so, so glad to be home.

Here and there,
Kiley