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| First Thanksgiving... |
It was during class #2 that the day began to unravel. Not particularly strong by any means, this class had extreme difficulty understanding the lesson I had planned for that day. They had recently watched the movie The Holiday, which, if you have seen it, you will know, is very seasonally appropriate for this time of year. (If you haven’t, it is about two women, one American, and one British, who do a house swap during the Christmas holidays). The lesson I was meant to teach was on houses, and specifically American vs. French houses. Now this is just not fair. No offense, France, but the US seriously has you beat on houses. And house size for that matter. Nevertheless, I embarked on my attempt to teach the kids about what a “typical” American home looks like. I had floor plans printed out for each student, plus a giant one drawn up on the board. But for the life of them, they could not understand what I was trying to communicate. With no other tools at my disposal (I had already used pictures, floor plans, lists of common rooms – in both French and English), I was getting seriously frustrated. However, one thing that did cheer me up a little was an interchange I had with a student about the number of rooms in her house. “How is the American house in the picture different from yours? Does your house have many rooms? How many rooms do you have in your house?” Her answer? “Elf.” Ok. “You have elf rooms in your house?” “Yes.” Apparently, she has Santa’s helper number of rooms in her house. I honestly couldn’t help but laugh a little and offer the correct word, “Eleven?” I guessed. Ah, yes, it was lucky number 11.
From this class, I went immediately on to class #3, which was not much better. After having read them the story of Thanksgiving, I tried to get them to do some exercises on comprehension. I read the story twice, incredibly slowly. Not a single one of them had any idea what the story was about. Not fun.
Class #4 was quite possibly the worst of all. There is one boy in the class who makes it his life mission to make my life a living hell. Gotta love teenagers! Already on the verge of asking him to never come back in my classroom ever again, I decided I would give him one last chance. As it turns out, I should have trusted my initial instincts. After signing in as “Jean Valjean”, oh yes, he thought he was that clever, he proceeded to disrupt the class any time I attempted to speak. By the end of the class (during which he had also made fun of me the entire time), I kicked him out. I told him to never come back. I wonder if he will…
So there I was, having had 3 pretty horrible classes, exhausted from an early wake-up, and seriously missing my family on the most important American holiday. I walked into the teachers’ lounge, collapsed in a corner, and succumbed to my emotions. Not sure what to do with a sobbing American teaching assistant, most of the other teachers stayed away. But one nice woman, who happens to be my fellow English teacher and favorite person at school, came over, gave me a hug and said, “Would you like a madeleine? Maybe not for now, but have it later…it will cheer you up!” Very sweet.
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| Galleries Lafayette in the snow |
I ended the day at school and made my way back to Strasbourg by train. My friend Andreja, who I always stay with when coming to the city, and I had planned to go out to dinner and have our own mini Thanksgiving. Not finding much of the American persuasion in terms of cuisine, we settled for Japanese. So yes, I had sushi on Thanksgiving. Afterwards, we opened a bottle of wine and watched old episodes of Friends, always a good cure for homesickness and a rough day. Planning to Skype my family at 10:30pm (4:30pm at home, just as they would all be sitting down to Thanksgiving dinner), I made my way down to McDonalds around ten, just to make sure I got there in enough time to set up my computer, connect to the wifi, and buy my requisite bottle of Evian, so it wouldn’t look like I was just thieving their wifi…(Andreja doesn’t have her internet set up yet). After a couple of mishaps and a 20-minute wait, I finally connected with my mom. When she took the computer into the dining room so I could say hello to everyone, the tears started falling yet again. I had promised myself I wouldn’t cry, but it was really hard seeing everyone together and around the table. Not really able to do anything other than wave, my cyber jaunt into the dining room was quite brief. After a quick chat, I didn’t want to interrupt anymore of Thanksgiving dinner (and the creepy homeless man sitting in the corner who had tried to give me phone directories was starting to freak me out), so I let my mom rejoin the table. I made my way home to Andreja’s and fell into a deep sleep. The only thing that stood in the way of my Thanksgiving weekend with all my friends in London was one short Friday at school.
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| Lights in front of Strasbourg Cathedral |
And whoa did Friday fly by! My classes were fun and talkative (not normal for a Friday), so I arrived back in Strasbourg in high spirits. As I left the station, the first snow of the season started to fall. It blanketed the trees in the city with a beautiful snowy dust, and made the lights that decorated the buildings cast a romantic glow into the streets. Around 7pm, Andreja and I left her apartment to walk around the city and enjoy the opening night of the Christmas Markets, Strasbourg’s world-famous Christmastime tradition. Or so we thought. We waltzed into Place Kleber, the main “place” in the city, and encountered the giant Christmas tree and nativity scene that had been set up. We saw a large group of people gathering around the tree, and decided we would join them to see what all the fuss was about. Supposedly, the opening of the markets and the lighting of the tree was to happen any second. So we waited, and we waited, and we waited. Half an hour later (in the freezing cold), we learned that the lighting of the tree (and the opening of the markets) was actually the next night (so typical). So we bundled up, and moved on to explore the city’s decorations. After wandering through all the tiny side streets, admiring the decorations and Christmas window displays, we ended up around what we thought was a giant protest. Not wanting to take part in some political scheme on the eve of the Christmas Markets, we turned around to walk home, when the large gathering spontaneously burst into song. We immediately turned around, and weaseled our way to front of the crowd. Not sure what we had walked into, we looked around to try to get a clue about what was going on. After a heart-warming rendition of “Imagine” by what felt like was the entire city, everyone started a countdown. Still not sure of what was going on, we joined in anyway. 10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1! And all of the Christmas lights in the entire city came on at the exact same time. It was beautiful. A giant archway made of lights proclaiming, “Strasbourg, capitale de Noël”, stretched over one of the main thoroughfares of the city. All of the wreaths and stars that had been designed out of Christmas lights illuminated the cobblestone streets of this old, medieval city. It was awe-inspiring, and definitely took my breath away.
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| Capitale de Noël |
Freezing cold and aware of the fact that I had a 6:15am train to London the next morning, we made our way back to Andreja’s to eat a late dinner and go to bed. Too excited to sleep, I got a total of one hour of sleep before I made my way to train station in the morning darkness. But I didn’t care. I was off to London to see some of my best friends from UVA and have my own European version of Thanksgiving.
As my early-morning TGV train careened through northeastern France on the way to Lille, I could see that everything was already blanketed with deep snowfall. After three-and-a-half hours, we arrived. It was sub-zero temperatures. With about an hour to kill before my Eurostar train to London, I turned on my ipod and huddled next to one of the many heaters decorating the arrivals hall in Lille. About half an hour before my train was to depart, all the passengers were to line up at Immigration and Customs. I had no idea this was the case. I figured there would be some kind of passport-stamping extravaganza, but this was intense! I had my passport stamped by French authorities, had to fill out a landing card for the UK, again had my passport stamped, then made my way through customs and security. Thank god my carte de sejour for France was recently validated! While waiting for the train on the platform, I realized my desperate and serious need for thermal socks. France is COLD. I was only outside for 15 minutes, and even with two pairs of socks on, my feet were frozen solid. After about 30 minutes on the train (and my feet finally thawed out), we abruptly came upon the Chunnel. Now, taking the Chunnel was a new experience for me. Much like the Amsterdam Red Light District, I fully expected signs to warn me of what I was about to encounter. Some “Chunnel ahead!” signs adorning the sides of the tracks would have been nice. But there were none. However, I did have some of my wits about me as we plunged into the sea, and managed to time our journey underwater. A whopping 23 minutes and 5 ear pops later, I was in the United Kingdom. Pretty fast crossing of the English Channel, eh?
I got off the train about 1pm, and sailed through St. Pancras International (thanks to Eliza’s lovely directions) down to the tube. I hopped on the Picadilly line going southbound, and before I knew it, I was only two blocks away from Eliza’s apartment. The minute I stepped out onto the street from Gloucester Road station, I remembered how much I love this city. It felt especially nice to see my own language on the signs, and recognize familiar brands and companies in the window displays of stores. I arrived at Eliza’s apartment and was greeted by her roommate, Hannah, and another weekend visitor, Pat. Rebecca, Eliza’s roommate from 3rd year, is Pat’s girlfriend. Studying abroad over in Vienna, Pat also made the trek to London for a down-home American Thanksgiving. Small world though. Turns out, Pat is good friends with the little brother of one of my good friends from high school. The whole 6-degrees of separation thing never ceases to amaze me. Eliza returned from store mere moments after my arrival and I felt immediately like I was home. There is no feeling like that of seeing old friends.
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| Our Thanksgiving "spread" |
As I said, it was about 1pm, and we had 4 hours until people were going to start to arrive for Thanksgiving. Hannah and Pat left to run errands, and Eliza and I set to work on prepping Thanksgiving dinner. Three words to describe this experience: tiny kitchen defumigation. Eliza had put the turkey in the oven about 2 hours prior to my arrival. All that remained to be done were the mashed potatoes, sweet potato casserole, roasted vegetables and intermittent turkey basting. As the first timer went off, indicating it was the hour for basting the turkey, we were in for a rude awakening. We opened the oven door and a rush of smoke greeted us and the tiny kitchen (and I mean tiny, it’s about five square feet). I rushed to calm down the smoke detector as Eliza threw open the window and started shooing out the smoke. After about 5 minutes in the kitchen, we had to stick our heads out the window, breathe some fresh air, and start the process over again. This happened about 7 times during the preparation of the turkey. By the end of four hours, our eyes were watering, we smelled like smoke, I was a pro at stopping the smoke detector alarm, and we had a routine for how to get fresh air while defumigating the oven. Yet, it was so much fun! I’ve never laughed so hard. In between our bouts with the turkey, we were peeling, chopping, and boiling potatoes, catching up, and having a Glee sing-along (be jealous).
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| Happy Thanksgiving! |
At about 5:30pm, the first guests started to arrive. Still in the midst of prepping the dinner, Eliza and I were hard at work mashing potatoes and cooking the sweet potato casserole. Thanks to a few extra hands, we managed to get all the food out on the table by 6:30pm. And it was a TON of food (And pretty gorgeous food at that). While we ate, I mingled with friends I hadn’t seen in ages. Nea, a friend of Eliza’s from high school and a friend of mine from Semester at Sea, was there, along with a ton of UVA kids I hadn’t seen since graduation. After a few rounds of bourbon cider, many platefuls of food, and a birthday celebration for our friend Tom, it was time for a game of charades (my absolute favorite). As people later trickled out and the party died down, my lack of sleep from the night before started to catch up with me. Luckily for me, I fell asleep just as the cleanup brigade started its work…
When we woke up on Sunday afternoon, it was Thanksgiving leftovers for breakfast (yum!). Nothing beats a next-day Thanksgiving sandwich. A couple of hours later, still nursing (food) hangovers, we made our way out into the world for some coffee, a late lunch, and some socialization. After our Byron burgers Eliza, Pat, and I moseyed on to the movies to see…you guessed it! Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows Part 1. For those of you who don’t know me well enough, you will now learn that I am a Harry Potter fanatic (probably not as much as Eliza, but she’s a tough one to beat). I have read every single book multiple times, own all the movies, and have even dressed up as a character on more than one occasion (ridicule me if you will). I refused to see this HP movie when it came out in France because it only came out dubbed in this beautiful land of cheese. So, indulging my need for Harry Potter, Eliza and Pat went to see it yet again. (And yes, it was soooo good!)
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| Harrods! |
We left the movie and went straight to Eliza’s friend Ralph’s (pronounced Rafe) for their group of friends’ weekly Sunday dinner. It was really lovely and so dignified. No wonder British people are often touted as the epitome of class. I must institute these once I enter some semblance of the real world. Stuffed from dinner, Hannah, Pat, Eliza and I rolled ourselves home to chill out a bit before bed.
Monday morning we awoke bright and early to do some sightseeing. Stop #1: HARRODS! Yes, Harrods. Quite possibly one of the most amazing (and gigantic) stores of all time. Basically a labyrinth of different departments and stores, Harrods is incredibly easy to get lost in. Don’t worry, we did. However, we did happen to stumble upon Pet World, the Toy Kingdom, and of course, the giant Food Hall. Not having been to London, and Harrods for that matter, in about 4 years, I thoroughly enjoyed the displays of retched excess. Who could possibly need a Roberto Cavalli outfit for their miniature poodle? Well someone, surely. I will admit however, that I did succumb to my weaker instincts and do a tiny bit of shopping. Lucky people on my Christmas list…
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| UCL |
After Harrods we rode one of the double-decker London city busses (classic, gotta love it) to a traditional American establishment for lunch. The only one outside of the US (until next May when they build one in Montmartre), the London Chipotle is a beacon of filling Mexican food for all hungry American travelers in the land of Bangers and Mash. Afterwards, Eliza and I took a small tour of her school, the University College of London, where she’s studying to get her masters in art history. Currently having a sit-in to protest educational budget cuts, the students of UCL had written “RIP Education” all over the walls of the school. One of them had even created a mock gravesite for education. Oh how I love Europe. In one of the halls, Eliza showed me the figure of a one Jeremy Baltham, one of the founders of UCL. His SKELETON sits inside a display box, covered with normal clothes, and topped by a wax face (his real head lies in the UCL safe). How bizarre. I don’t think the security guard was too happy that I laughed…
Upon leaving UCL, we walked onto the campus of the University of London, home to SOAS (School of Oriental and African Studies). Why, you might ask, was I traipsing around the SOAS campus? Well, SOAS happens to have a highly regarded masters program in African studies that I am seriously contemplating for next year. So, Eliza and I, thinking we could just walk in and have a look around, entered the school, only to find that we did not have the proper security badges. Sent into the “Prospective Students” office, I had to fill out a form as to why I was there, sign in for security clearance, get issued a day pass, and then APPLY to enter the SOAS library. Absurd. Why on earth is the library closed to the public? You don’t see the Alderman circulation desk at UVA turning people away because they don’t have the proper security clearance. England is weird. When we finally did get our library passes, we had to spend at least half an hour pretending that we were looking at something worthwhile. This is how I came to spend 30 minutes looking at books on contemporary Chinese art in the SOAS library at the University of London. Weirder things have happened, believe me.
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| London by night |
In serious need of retail therapy after spending so much time with books, Eliza and I went to Zara, John Lewis, and Partridge’s before our bags got so heavy we could barely drag them home. We grabbed another bus and sped through the city, beautifully decorated with Christmas lights, which made everything come alive! Finally home around 7pm, and way too lazy to re-enter the arctic temperatures engulfing London, we ordered dinner and sat down to play with Eliza’s newest and most favorite possession: Harry Potter Cluedo. After a few beers and some amazing Dobby impressions by Pat, I was well on my way to an evening filled with tons of laughter. While Pat did Dobby and Hagrid impressions, I chimed in with my BBC newscaster impressions (which are really quite good, if I don’t say so myself), and we had yet another night of Harry Potter, Sam Adams, and good friends.
Unfortunately Tuesday came too soon, and I found myself up early in the morning packing to leave. However, when I threw open the blinds, I saw that the city was soon to be covered in snow. What a romantic site: London in snowfall (However I must admit, I am getting quite sick of the snow nowadays – I can’t even walk around in my village because none of the sidewalks or roads have been cleared of the 3 feet of snow that fell while I was gone). I raced off from Eliza’s at about 11:30am, to meet a friend of hers for a quick lunch before taking my train back to France. Archie, Eliza’s friend who attends SOAS, was kind enough to sit with me and answer all of the questions I could throw his way about his program, his school, and the like. After an incredibly convincing hour-long lunch, I am seriously considering this program…woe is me because now I really have no idea what I want to do with my life. However, plenty of time to contemplate, so I must not worry!
I grabbed the train at 2:30, and finally arrived back to a snow-covered Strasbourg at 10pm last night. Let’s just say the next time I go to London, I will be flying. I am back in France for a mere two days before I leave again Friday night for a weekend in Brussels. Lucky enough to be meeting another one of my good friends from UVA, I know this coming weekend will bring as much joy as the last!
So, I hope everyone had as enjoyable a Thanksgiving as I did. And as a quick end before I leave you all, I just wanted to say, Eliza - thank you for an amazing weekend! It made me remember everything that I have to be thankful for: good friends, a loving family, and an amazing opportunity to live in Europe! You are an incredible friend and a wonderful host…counting down the six weeks until my return!
P.S. For those of you who don't already know, I am now working as a travel writer for an American women's travel website! The site is called Lost Girls World. Please check out my latest published article at http://www.lostgirlsworld.com/2010/11/living-better-out-of-a-backpack/ and look for new articles by me every other Monday!
P.S. For those of you who don't already know, I am now working as a travel writer for an American women's travel website! The site is called Lost Girls World. Please check out my latest published article at http://www.lostgirlsworld.com/2010/11/living-better-out-of-a-backpack/ and look for new articles by me every other Monday!
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