Double Happiness.

Last weekend Seb and I went with the family out of the city and tried crawfishing. When we piled into the car I certainly didn't expect to be spending the afternoon hanging strips of meat into a pond off a bamboo pole, drinking green tea out of a pint glass and eating watermelon. But when in Chengdu...

That Monster in the middle is Seb's!

Sebastien and I were told one evening last week that we were invited to a dinner for our host father's cousin to fancy restaurant on campus. I'm a pretty big fan of places I can walk to so I readily agreed. He told us it was to commemorate his cousin's baby's first hundred days. Apparently it is a very important tradition in ensuring the heath and luck of the child. Alternatively you can choose to commemorate the first 40 days and arguably it's a tradition more popular in the north. When giving a gift for this event one typically gives clothing or toys for the baby or a monetary gift with the base rate 200 kuai (the equivalent of 33 US dollars)  This sum increases exponentially the closer you are to the family. Money for any holiday should be given in red envelops because the color is associated with luck and happiness. Even numbers are auspicious therefore you could give 400 kuai but not 5. Sadly we were only taught about the customs of gift giving the day after we celebrated this. Wah wauh. Jerks squared. But the food was great!

We're keeping good company here at Sichuan Normal University.
Originally, I thought there would be 19 of us because they called us the China 19. Turns out that's our year and there's a reason I wasn't named Einstein. (I'm not german, obvs)
They've spread out the 72 of us between three different Unis where we all study Chinese and learn how they want us to teach English. We're in class for about 6 to 7 hours a day, six days a week. Needless to say that in three short weeks we've already gotten pretty close with the 23 fellows at our school. The vibe is wicked positive because we naturally have a lot of common ground. Most folks within our group are experienced teachers, have lived abroad and have one or more other languages under our belts. I'm pretty excited by the opportunity to be around so many other teachers who understand why I want to be here, and as cheesy as it sounds, I'm excited to see what they have to teach me.

Language class: Whelp, due to uneven class sizes I had to do my bi-weekly Language evaluation with a different teacher. This put a few bruises on my ego because she was all geared up to test me on things we didn't cover. Colors? Fruit? Refrigerators and electric fans? Don't you want to hear all the adjectives I memorized?
I also had to face the fact that I've hobbled my progress by allowing my husband to order lunch for me. Neither does it help that our host family uses the local dialect around the dinner table. Unless I feebly interject something along the lines of, "I buy coffee at the store, everyday," I don't even get to do passive learning through listening.
My true gift where language acquisition is concerned is that I don't expect to understand everything. I can sometimes see my friend's eyes spinning as they attempt to translate whole sentences in their heads.  France taught me to focus on the one or two words I did comprehend and extrapolate.

Say it with me, 朋友 !

They've arranged things so we design a two week curriculum for students in pairs. This is really awesome on Peace Corp's part because we have support and p2p critiques even as they've given the tools and expectations to realize a course, rubrics, scopes and sequences. It's a lot of responsibility for us but just imagine our TEFFL trainer having 250 lesson plans to read and give feedback on. My counterpart is a rad guy and a capable teacher so we had a lot of good pre-teach sessions. Our students range from 13 to over 20.

We've done three days of teaching thus far. We taught together on Monday but today was my first Kessel run. I'm really proud of certain elements from my lesson but feel like I still have a lot of distance to cover before I'm satisfied with how I'm preforming. I'll teach again Friday and then again next Tuesday and Thursday.

All my students had English pseudonyms, save two. I scribed them a hearty list of tight-jean names like Chaz, Kipp and Chloe but one of the two wanted a T word name so we went with Tina. The other girl picked Katie because my counterpart actually had names like Mary and Jane on his list.
Truthfully, I had misgivings with according them Western names--it feels like a denial of self--but then I remembered how much fun it was to pick one in Spanish class. Especially for the kid who got to call himself Jesus.

More next week, until then sing Tom Petty songs in your head for me!

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All the things!

Hyperbole and a Half has finally updated, so I guess that means I should too. We've been in the US of A for almost a week now and I'm trying my damnedest  to come out of vacation mode, uh in terms of all the things I keep shoveling into my mouth.
Me: Oh wow, they still make those, I forgot they exist!
Server: So, you'll have one then?
Me: Pft! I'll have two.

On Monday we drove from DC to Columbus with Sebastien's parents, who helped us pack up our storage space back that way. We should each get to be our favorite ninja turtles for the amount of effort and martial awesomeness it required to finish those Herculean endeavors.  It's cheesy to say, but when all four of us were balancing a mattress on our head and walking it towards a truck, I couldn't help but feel like we were making a moment. Dibs on Raphael.
I knew we'd be spending the weekend in the District, so about a month ago I arranged for a really good friend of Sebastien's to be in town as a surprise. I'm typically pretty terrible at keeping this sort of excitement to myself--so I'm proud to say that although every single person who would listen to me knew about it, Sebastien had no idea Jon would be there when we met up with the Georgetown crew for a happy hour last Thursday.
DC is something special. Seb and I walked from L'Enfant Plaza to Tenleytown--crossing the National Mall and stopping for BBQ in Glover Park. The moisture level that day was palpably different from anything we've encountered in Paris thanks to all those beautiful trees and 1800 years of progress in city planing. I had honestly forgotten what fresh cut grass smelled like. One of our our best friends, Brad, not only picked us up from the airport, not only let us crash at his new apartment with his fiance in Maryland,  but actually woke us up on our first day back in the States to a pancake breakfast. A pancake breakfast! With real Vermont Maple syrup.  Honestly, Brad is amazing and we are so happy for him and the woman he chose to share his life with.

Plus, they live near a lake!

Leaving Paris was not an easy task. Putting aside taxis, bag limits and weird rules for mailing books and I still had to not cry when we said goodbye to all the amazing friends we've made. At any given moment from now until I die, I might dream of you, or smile when I think of something you said. If you're reading this, and you know that I'm referring to you, also  know that my door is always open. No matter where I am in the world, I've got at least a couch for you. You're invited. We'd love to host you.

We counted and realized that we had 25 different roommates from 11 separate countries over a two year period. Excepting of course Sebastien, I didn't have a say in a single one who came or went. But we all did our best and made it work. Along the way  I think I really learned what it means to be a good coloc. I was a much messier person before moving in with all of them. I understand now that I'm happier if I just assume people have no idea their behaviors would upset me. This is important for two reasons, reason one--they probably don't have any idea nor any ill intentions, and  Reason two-- even if they do, I can survive it. The sooner I gave up on the small stuff the more time I had for fun with them. Especially at the end. I say end now because it's actually over and that mostly doesn't bother me. But there was a twinge of something earlier today when I needed a few lemons and realized there aren't three fruit vendors on the street below my non-existent balcony anymore. And therein lies the lesson: sometimes life gives you lemons and sometimes they're taken away. But even then, there's usually still sugar.

Merci, Jack le Black

The Paris gang thew us an amazing party where they gifted us with an Eiffel tower covered in little notes and well wishes. Sebastien felt the need to wear it on his head because of reasons. I would be sadder about leaving all of their awesomeness behind if this was a different epoch where people wrote with feathers and got around by horse or boat. In such a world it would be easy to imagine I'd never see these good folks ever again. But those restraints have gone the way of the dodo, and the Myspace.

We flew Iceland Air. Since we were only able to spend a limited amount of time in Reykjavík, I made sure to watch two films in the native language.
The first film was actually mislabeled as Sumarlandið which had the word elf several times in the synopsis but was actually the film, Brúðguminn about a middle age philosophy professor who thinks he might be marrying someone to justify his affair with her. The second film, Rokland was about an angry blogger who is sure that what Northern Iceland really needs is more German philosophy and less Coca-Cola
It's hard not to agree with both of them in principle.

The next few days we'll probably spend going through boxes and figuring out which items are worth buying plastic crates for and which would be better off on the curb. Much to my chagrin, I didn't leave our pizza roller for our flatmates. But in other news I've decided to get rid of a lot of vintage tee shirts. Primarily because I rarely wear them, but mostly because there are cool kids all over Columbus who will call every Melissa in lumpyspace.

I plan on posting more regularly and listening to the Eye of the Tiger a lot in my head because I'm ready for the month of June like Little Mac was ready for Tyson. Actually, his song was better. Yeah, I'll be humming that.

Onward!

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Queen of the eyesores

Annnnnnnnd we're back from blogging hiatus. I would apologize for my absence, but that's bad for morale, so instead I'll solemnly swear I've been up to no good.

The last three weeks have found me on the State side of the moon forgetting everything I knew about French and remembering little American tricks like eggnog and cheddar cheese.
We spent the first few days of our trip with Sebastien's parents in Columbus, Ohio--I tried the strangest ice creams there: Banana and bacon, rosemary, olive oil and chocolate chip, raspberry and goat cheese and marshmallow and yams. We also met up with a friend from university and caught up on the who-and-the-what.

Next stop was Saint Louis to rendezvous with all of the Torrini Clan--ie Sebastien's extended family on his mother's side. It's cool because a lot of his cousins are right around our age and they've asking interesting questions, dating cool people and have maintained good taste in music.

From the Lou we caught a flight to Boston and met up with another college friend- whom my best friend from High school coincidentally learned about on Goodreads. If you like Zombie books, you should check her out too.
After that I spent more time than I should have at Chez ma mere. My mother for her part doesn't really like me, stoutly refuses to offer me validation but is at least willing to miss me sincerely whenever I leave--so that's something, I suppose.
Seb and I rang in the New Year with my younger sister and my best friends along the shore of Oyster Pond watching the fireworks from water's edge. While it certainly lacked the splendor of the 14th of July in Paris, we were most definitely entertained.
It's always fun being on the Cape, looking over my old bookshelfs and boxes now relegated to the cellar. I can see me and remember what was feeling that first read through whenever I touch the spine of an old book. Just on a lark I reread the Great Gatsby and decided by page six that this text is utterly wasted on High school Students:

 "Her husband, among various physical accomplishments, had been one of the most powerful ends that ever played football at New Haven-a national figure in a way, one of those men who reach such an acute limited excellence at twenty-one that everything afterward savors of anti-climax."

If your not impressed, you will be if only you reread the book for yourself. And why not? It will fit so cleverly into your pocket.
Atanyrate, I shared this notion of wastefulness and teenagers with my former English teacher, whom I had the good fortune to encounter at my younger brother's basketball game and was pleased to find that she whole heartedly agreed. It very much made me feel like I was in a secret club...

Having wrapped things up on Cape Cod about as well as could be hoped, Sebastien and I have been back in Boston for a day or two trying to squeeze in all the last minute visits and shopping trips we can. They don't, for instance, sell dryer sheets in France...dafuq?
On to cultural notes:
Sweatpants...they're a thing in Boston.
You can honestly pay a lot of money for a pair of sweats in the US. This would never, ever, I repeat ever happen in Europe.
Heading to the corner store for some milk?
Get on some real pants.

Seriously Boston, Jake gets it--why don't you?
I'm not trying to be uppity or put on airs--it's the T not the metro. I may speak a second language but haven't forgotten my roots. It's just that  uggs and a juicy suit have never been my thing. And I would never date a guy in ecco complex anything. I'm not a judgy face--I don't even like Downton Abbey.

Other cultural notes:
American Pickles are better.  But if tiny and warty is your thing, I'm not going to stop you.
Trader Joes is an asset to cultural diffusion. Did you know that you can buy raclette cheese there now?And the samples lady called  Crayfish langoustine.... Ok playa, time to pump those breaks. Cos that shit cray.
American beers are way better than French ones. Belgium you're still cool. Seriously though, Europe--Stop scoffing and start checking out these breweries: Magic Hat, Flying dog, Red Hook,  Blue Moon. Honestly, these are just my steady eddies, a bunch of new regional beers have sprung up that I haven't even had the time to try. Much like how the States can't be summarized by San Francisco and New York City--American beer isn't just Budweiser. But sometimes it is, because I get nostalgic for running from the cops and drinking in the woods. Plus bud light is 7 dollars a pitcher--and that's after happy hour.

I feel like I'm leaving a lot of stuff out and that this is also getting kind of long so for further clues as to how I spent my time you can head over to my new instagram feed.  Add me if you like me.

In closing, I just want to make clear that I'm so glad I we made this trip. I saw a lot of the people I love--not all, but a lot of them. Sebastien and I came up against constraints and annoyances  and still managed to make the best of it. If you haven't heard me say it in awhile, he's so much better than I deserve.
We head back to France tomorrow.
It's weird to know that I still feel more relaxed in States that I've never lived in than a country that I've called home for two years. And yet, I'm going back expecting to feel relieved when French is the background noise I hear between songs....Attention à la marche en descendant du train.. 
I will.
I always do.
Even when it's just the T and there ain't no gap to speak of.

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At frist I was like...but then I was like...

Well, there are two things I really like about the internet: memes, and you.
Not everybody has as much time as your favorite post-modernist to devote to chumming the vast seas that we call the webs. So, if you ever want to know more about memes, you can go to Know your meme, Quick meme, Urban Dictionary or Reddit...the latter being the front page of the English speaking internet. You should already have an account. (Up votes for self-smuggery)

Moving on.

I ran into this meme format when on Facebook back in 2009. A friend posted this image of Ice Cube from his time with NWA and his life there after wherein he cared an aweful lot about boat safety, apparently.

You see how it works. I though I could use to to explain a few changes I've noticed along my path...



My threshold for Graphics:

French electro:

Electing a president:

Life at the Colocation:

Yay, a beach day!

And on to the last one which is the most relevant at the moment because I live in a climate with four seasons. For ecological reasons we therefore require rain.  I've never understood people who want to express to me how disconcerting a given weather pattern is for them.
Take notes, this will be on the test:

If it's uncomfortably hot for you, or too cold--or even if there hasn't been a full day of sun for a week, trust me, we've all noticed. I can guarantee that you are adding nothing to the conversation nor anyone's comfort.
Well, go ahead and say it. You'r thinking it and silences make you awkward. I've got my lines memorized--lets waste some time agreeing with each other that we wish we could have sunshine forever without killing almost all the plants. No, wait that would mean we actually considered rain had a purpose, so let's skip that step and just rephrase each other's statements.
You'll be like, "It was hard to get out of bed today."
And I'll be like, "Yeah, I know--and the sky, it's just so, like, grey. Gawd."
You: I was just going to say that!
Me: Wow, that's crazy. We're basically thought twins!
It's camaraderie plus sadness, my favorite!
/Rant; Ahem





When people complain about the weather:

And so I leave you with some listening..
But remember, ours is a world of wonder--of beauty and ugliness compounded, refracted and recycled, of truth, love and chaos, all in equal measure. It's our only planet and our only hope--some people even break the sound barrier trying to get back to it.
Yup, we that gud.

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