My first time on a French field trip

Here we are in Silvolde, a small village in the Netherlands on a French-Dutch exchange program. Underneath my cool laid back exterior, I am as giddy as can be.

I was soaking in the beautiful sights of driving through Luxembourg, Germany and into the Netherlands that I had sensory overload. My eyes were big as saucers (except for my ever- so – comfortable nap) and I felt extremely grateful. This is amazing!!!!

A teacher who specializes in history but has a European class asked me in the beginning of the school year if I wanted to accompany her class to the NL for an exchange program. They were in need of a native English speaker and it was truly an offer I couldn’t refuse.

I’ve never done an exchange program like this where you go to another place (in this case, country) and stay for a week with a host family while attending the local school and work on projects. If I were in their position, I’d feel incredibly lucky and excited. And even as a language assistant, I still do!

The teachers (MP and J) do speak a little English, but they have told me they’re really happy to have me there which is a nice feeling. This is one special case where I feel glad to be a native English speaker. I don’t want to overstep any boundaries or feel like I’m bumming off this trip. I want to be a respectful guest and be as helpful as I can! I guess I just want them to be happy with their decision.

Well stay tuned for more of this literally…once in a lifetime opportunity for me. I’ll be here…floating on clouds.

The time I fought a crow in Nancy

Okay not really. But there I was quietly sitting on a bench in Parc de la Pépinière eating my baguette, salami slices and Brie cheese (yes soooo French of me) when a crow landed just five feet in front of me. Then before I knew it, he was only three feet away! An alarmingly close distance…Then two more crows came. Of course I tried shoo-ing them away but they were too used to human interactions. Before I knew it, there were about seven crows surrounding me. All eyeing my baguette zealously. They were in the trees, behind me and on the other side of the bench where I was not sitting. I had a sudden flashback to when I was walking down Grafton Street, Dublin Ireland. I was just passing a lady who was eating a cheeseburger she had just bought from McDonalds when a pigeon dove without abandon for her burger. It really startled ME so I couldn’t imagine how she felt! And I didn’t want to so I packed my things. The second I got up the crows honed in on where I was sitting (insert shudder here).

It boasted more than 100 artisans and boutiques so I just had to pay a visit. 

Ah yes, that was in Nancy just 20 minutes away by train. I woke up early to catch a ride there and pay Nancy a true visit. I went to the Le Marché Centrale de Nancy. My first thought upon walking in was that people who live here are quite lucky to have a market like this nearby! It’s equivalent to the Farmer’s Market in Los Angeles except they don’t have as many places that serve ready to eat food. Here, you can buy ingredients to cook food at home.

This is a stall where they sell fresh handmade pasta. Yumm…

There are a couple places though that sell pastries including the pâte Lorraine and I’ve heard this pastry is a must-have so I couldn’t help but try one out. All the pastries however looked absolutely scrumptious and the next time I go to Nancy, I’ll have to try some more.

Yup! The infamous pâte Lorraine.

I’m beginning to notice a pattern about the French or at least the habitants in this region. You see, I was in Nancy last Sunday with Pau and some of the other Spanish assistants and we hung out in Parc de la Pépinière. The park was filled with families, friends and couples just enjoying a nice sunny day. I thought it would be the same for Saturday so I made my way over during lunchtime (as mentioned earlier during the attack of the crows) but to see another person was a rarity. I sat there among my feathered enemies wondering where is everybody? After some walking, I discovered that on Saturdays, everyone goes to the mall or take to the streets where all the shops are.

a quiet Place Stanislas at 9 in the morning

A couple hours were spent meandering the streets visiting appealing shops. A papeterie here, a sport shop there and I even found a shop that sells North Face products. I roamed the floors of Saint Sébastien, a mall highly recommended to me by the students of Lycée Bichat.

A display shelf of his latest book, 1Q84, that was published in a series. So yes that’s book 1, 2 and 3.

I was making my way back to the train station when I spotted FNAC. FNAC..hm is like a superstore. Think Best Buy and Barnes and Noble put together. But unlike Barnes and Noble where there are only five people browsing, in the books section of FNAC, I had to dodge so many people to be able to walk around. And what’s more, I found two and a half shelves dedicated to Haruki Murakami’s books! All translated into French and waiting to be purchased by me. But I was more surprised that the local bookstore in Lunéville also carries a few titles. It’s taken every ounce of my will to resist buying another book. But alas, today I found out there is a large book warehouse just a little south of here near Baccarat. I will definitely have to plan a visit or two…

A Saturday spent in Nancy was a day well spent but it’ll be a while before I visit again. It’s time to make my way slowly but surely around Frane.

That time I dreamt about Pho

I’m literally drooling over my keyboard…this picture is not mine (click on image for site).

That wonderful aroma of carefully prepared beef broth. A mixture of raw meat slices, tendons and tripes layered over a hunk of noodles briefly dunked in hot water. Don’t even get me started on the condiments and fresh vegetables placed in front of me. I felt like royalty! My right hand firmly grasped a pair of chopsticks and my left held the honorary soup spoon. My eyes closed as I awaited the glory of delicious pho. With a confident swift motion, I scooped up a mélange of noodles and soup into my mouth to taste…nothing at all.

Aha! Try opening a bottle of wine with this bad boy…Definitely a must-have for any traveler.

Living in a small town in France meant that my hankering for Asian dishes would not be satisfied as readily (if at all) as in Orange County. The thing about me is, when I have a dream about something so amazing and profound, I become determined (okay borderline obsessed) with finding it. The other day it was my desire to obtain a handy Swiss Army knife. I searched high and low in the city center of Lunéville and found a tabac store that carried knives. I was so happy when I made that purchase.

Back to my dream about pho…My craving for it won’t be easy to satisfy. It was so disappointing to wake up and not have a steaming bowl right in front of me! Isn’t there technology now where we can zap meals right out from our dreams? No? All right then…to the internet I go! As I watch video after video and read recipe after recipe, I learn that having a pho-king unbelievable bowl of pho (it’s hard to not include puns with a word like pho) is going to be an adventure unto itself. For other TAPIF people or someone simply home away from home, is there a dish that you’re craving but can’t seem to replicate?

That time I hiked Mont Donon

The skies were gray and promised rain in the afternoon. No matter, the southern Californian part of me donned athletic shorts, a sweater, hiking shoes and my trusty forest green Kanken backpack and took the train to Baccarat where one of the teachers lived. Clotilde, one of the English teachers, had learned that I really enjoy the outdoors and hiking so she invited me out to her town to hike Mont Donon. She eyed my outfit with concern but I reassured her when I said I had a pair of sweats with me. Her two young kids accompanied us on this two-hour roundtrip hike to the top.

Her kids were really welcoming and offered me treats everytime we rested. on our way to the trailhead, a group of German hikers passed us and the little girl surprised me when she said “je n’aime pas des allemands” (I don’t like Germans). My eyes opened up in response and I laughed a little. Her mother said it was typical but she didn’t know where her daughter learned this from. Haha I’m thinking it’s something she’ll grow out of.

Ah, at the top we were rewarded with a nice albeit cloudy view of Baccarat which is actually a funny story. A lot of teachers have asked me if I knew that I was going to be placed near Baccarat (known for crystals. Yes like the jewels!) because of my name. It is just a funny coincidence. After the descent down, we enjoyed a frozen treat at a nearby hotel. I had coffee ice cream in coffee! Complete with whipped cream and a cherry. This tasty concoction is fait à la main which means made in the house.

After we paid the bill, the skies opened up and rain poured down. It was a chance of good luck that the rain did not start while we were still hiking. Clotilde briefly showed me Pierre Percée, a man-made lake (which I did a short hike around last weekend with another teacher). It was a good day.