Back from "la belle Barcelone"

I actually had no intention of going to Barcelona, Spain before arriving in Europe...1. I don't speak any Spanish, let alone Catalan. This was determined very early in my life when I realized that I could never roll my "r"s. 2. I just simply did not know much about Spain other than bullfights, incredible hot chocolate, and the fact that they won the world cup last summer.

This of course all changed when a few of my friends planned this trip, including one who actually spoke Spanish and some Catalan! Boy am I glad for spontaneous getaways because Barcelona was this little treasure I stumbled upon, and I learned more than I ever imagined.

From my first stay at a hostel (which was an adventure in itself) to the day we missed our cable car and had to walk all the way down the mountain for two hours, it has been quite a week. It was especially interesting to see the sheer Catalan pride emanating from this bustling city in Spain, where there are as many Catalan flags as there are Spanish flags waving above the buildings and draped across apartment balconies.

note to self: Catalonia is one of Spain's seventeen "autonomous communities" or administrative divisions. Within Catalonia, there are four provinces, Barcelona being one of them. There's actually a region in France (Région Pyrénées-Orientale) that speaks Catalan, but sadly France does not officially recognize it.

In ways I cannot exactly describe, I would like to call Barcelona a more masculine version of Paris, and the atmosphere there just seemed more relaxed than the city of lights. Anyways, there is much to talk about when it comes to la belle Barcelone, but I'll just point out a few things that I especially loved about this charming city...

the Mediterranean...oh how i missed the water

the architecture...Antoni Gaudí was a g e n i u s

f r e s h squeezed orange juice...everywhere

the view from the highest places...so worth the walk

Anyways, I could not be more grateful for my ten-day vacation after nearly five weeks of 9to5 classes every day at IFE. This break was very much needed and was very well spent, me'thinks. I can hardly believe that the big classes are officially over and that I officially start my internship...tomorrow. OY.

Prayers please. I'll be surrounded by French people and expected to do French work...so prayer that I will joyfully adapt to my new surroundings and trust in God to meet all my needs. I'll also be expected to come up with a research topic within the coming weeks...so prayer for inspiration leading to a topic that I will be passionate about and one that I can build upon in the future.

Merci mille fois. On y va!
Soli Deo Gloria.

Love,
hopeful traveler

A Trip with Paul

"I hope to see you in passing as I go to Spain, and to be helped on my journey there by you, once I have enjoyed your company for a while. At present, however, I am going to Jerusalem bringing aid to the saints." -Romans 15: 24-25

I decided to change things up a bit this year: 1. start reading through four different sections of the Bible at once 2. read a different version (in this case, English Standard Version)

Though I am not always on top of things, I've been really enjoying this so far. For one, it's guaranteed that I won't have a night full of just genealogies (hehe), and it's refreshing to come across familiar verses in a new light. Thanks to the pocket-sized Bible that my brother got me for my trip, I've been carrying it along and reading it in different places, which I love. It's amazing how God speaks to you in a quiet café or in a crowded metro full of morning commuters. Oh speaking of the metro...I could write another post on this. Later. A big fan of Winnie the Pooh, I would simply like to call it my new "thoughtful spot" ;]

Anyways, back to tonight. I finally zipped up my suitcase and started reading through Romans when I noticed, hey, Paul's going to Spain too! How cool. What a coincidence that my reading and trip would line up like that. I wonder who he met, where he went, what he did there...of course far bigger and better things. Still, it's nice to know that I'll be sort of tracing his steps physically as I make my way over to Barcelona tomorrow. Now about the spiritual part...

God, fill me with joy and peace in believing. Holy Spirit, by your power, may I abound in hope.

Stinky Cheese

the sweet ole' man cutting the cheese right in front of me

So I finally got a good excuse to explore the local fromagerie (cheese shop) in my neighborhood today. Our last assignment for one of my classes is to bring in an "original French cheese" to present to the class tomorrow. Our teacher, a very serious-faced bookish journalist for Le Monde, has been a tough cookie so far--he has already called me out several times on my pronunciation, which I secretly appreciate. When we get to the topic of American life and dialects, however, he becomes a giddy child, and it's quite endearing. So when Mr. Serious offered to supply the wine and baguette, I knew this was real. Class is over!

We got out pretty late today, so as soon as I hopped off the metro, I scurried over to the little fromagerie. It was almost dinner time, so there was already a little line in that tiny shop when I arrived. The minute those sliding doors opened, the pungent smell of old cheese hit me like a wave. I stared at the rows and rows of funny looking yellow mounds--most of them looked like they were rotting to death. After pacing back and forth a few times, I asked the nice gentleman in front of me for his "conseil" and explained my little homework assignment. He chuckled and patiently gave me a cheese 101 on all the different kinds out there that he personally enjoyed. I was reminded again what I loved best about being in Paris--though I'm still learning, I'm thankful for the ability to chat with the local people here. Like a pro, he ordered a ton of cheese, wished me luck, and went on his way. When it was finally my turn, I repeated my request to the cheese shop owner who was wearing a distinctive Parisian béret--how cute. He gave me a little overview until we finally settled on one: St. Nectaire Fermier.

this one comes from Auvergne, a province in south-central France

I've never heard of it before, so I'm pretty excited to try it. It's a semi-soft cheese made from raw cow milk with a crust like that of Camembert. It's also supposed to have a hazel-nutty taste. Interesting..buying cheese is fun. I hope that man wears that béret again the next time I visit.

There were so many brutal and sweet moments during my first month here in Paris, but I'm thankful. I cannot believe that this is already my last week of classes. I just pray that things don't become so routine here that I lose sight of the charm of this city.

Daddy, thank you for stinky cheese that actually tastes good, quiet moments for reflection, friendly conversations, the soothing rain, the sweet words of my mother, hardships, and your wonderful presence. Daddy, may I learn to surrender to you more and more each day.

Contemporary Confusion

various light fixtures at an art gallery

This past week my class has been going on various excursions throughout Paris visiting local artisans at their shops and numerous contemporary art galleries. The walking has been good and (hopefully) counteracting my current overdose on Nutella, but at the end of the day, I feel my legs limply hanging from the rest of my body and screaming for rest...I'm just so tired! :(

Anyways, this picture is just one of many pieces that I have come across today. Modern art boggles my mind sometimes. Actually, scratch that. It boggles my mind most of the time. If that's the way it's supposed to be, then good-it has succeeded in stretching my intellectual capacity. However, sometimes I cannot help but think wow, my baby cousin could have done that. Perhaps I was just too tired and cranky by the time we shuffled into our third exhibit that I couldn't fully appreciate what was before me. Perhaps I had such admiration for the artists behind the masterpieces at Musee d'Orsay last weekend that I could not give these modern artists due credit...

But honestly, this picture I took of a collection of lights on the floor was one of the more interesting ones. There was one gallery where we were literally staring at an old nail stuck on the wall. Voila, there you go. A guide then explained to us its relation to the theme of "simplicity," but I just felt like his words were just driving a nail into my own head.

Ever since that lecture on the nail, it became hard for me to determine what was the "art" and what was not. For instance, is that crumbled-up newspaper supposed to be there in that corner or did someone just drop it on the way out? I became more critical and confused. And the fact that none of the pieces had little explanation cards next to them did not help matters either.

When it comes to modern art, I quite often feel like the little boy in The Emperor's New Clothes who yells out, "But he isn't wearing anything at all!" Sometimes I just want to say, "but it's just a nail...any other nail that you find in any other house..." Sometimes I feel like everyone's just bluffing and mislabeling simplicity with creativity, all in the name of artistic self-expression.

And yet, I do not have the artistic expertise to make such a bold statement nor do I have the guts to do so. Hopefully as I continue to explore more of this area, I will begin to truly appreciate it. One thing this experience has taught me though, is how much my heart desires a definitive answer--to be really sure of something instead of being content with 100 interpretations (haha this is coming out of the English major). Take for instance this view of Paris from Belleville...

view from Belleville...look at that sky

My heart is certain of many things when I see such beauty like this in the world. This was like a breath of fresh air after leaving behind a room full of man-made artifacts. Nothing compares. No nail stuck on a wall or lights strewn across the floor...just God-given light illuminating a broken and often lost little world. What's more, I love the fact that this lighted self-expression from the heavens clothes everything around it with beauty.

Fountain of Youth

château de fontainebleau

I spotted this little one knelt and praying by the fountain the other day.
Little boy, I am not sure what is weighing on that heart of yours,
but your simple act of faith really tugged at mine.
Merci.

Hyped over Skype

Though my dear family is snowed in and trapped at home all day,
I'm awfully glad for moments like these.

At the end of the day...
yes, I'm thankful for the opportunity to study abroad in Paris,
but it will never compare to these lovely folks in Dallas.

bisous bisous ma famille
xoxo

Frosty Feb

Il fait très froid ici.

It's so cold here, but I need to suck it up because I hear there's a snowstorm hitting the east coast right now (bundle up, my loves!). Two and a half weeks later, Paris is starting to feel like home. I mean, I still get giddy with excitement every time I step foot into a boulangerie and still take forever in line shuffling through my coins, but I don't have to look twice to find my way home anymore. As for my speaking ability, I'm not sure if I see much improvement, but I've grown very comfortable making mistakes out loud--so I guess that's a good thing? haha.

Several people told me that I was going to learn so much about myself while studying abroad. I had a vague idea of what this meant, but one thing is for sure: I'm definitely identifying my little "life" habits. Things like "pushing a door" when I should be "pulling" instead, reaching for the light switch inside the bathroom and going back out again, etc. Put yourself and your old habits in a new context, and you instantly come into conflict--you notice what you're used to and realize what you need to change in order to...well, survive.

Anyways, I'm a little tired so I present to you my "list" entry. I think it sums up my adaptation process here and aptly displays my desire to keep things simple at this late hour. EnJOy!

J'aime:

• fresh baguettes
• hot tea in the morning
• Sunday worship in French at Hillsong
• the acoustics in my room, which makes my violin very happy
  
• falaffels at Chez Hanna:
  
  delicious falaffel special in Le Marais
• the endearing "puh" sound my prof makes with his lips when fishing for the right words
• homemade meals and reuniting with old friends :)
  
  Danice and her wonderful meal<3
• skype dates with the fam and friends
• little kids holding hands in the metro for elementary school field trips
• coffee breaks with the other IFE students:
  
  just about ready to take our break
• French newspapers
• hearing old school American music being blasted down the hallway
• beautiful, beautiful architecture
  
  Basilique du Sacre Cœur, Montmartre
• spending time with the new Bible that my dear brother got me<3
• journaling at night
  

Je n'aime pas:

• the bitter slap-in-the-face, pricks your thighs, nose-running but unfeeling, kind of cold
• playing sardines in the metro during morning rush hour
• complete disregard of personal space due to the above
• when the metro occasionally reeks of...who knows what :(
• getting hit on by greasy French men
  
• when puppies on the streets are dressed better than pedestrians
  
• when "sale" prices are not really "sale prices"
• French "r"s--currently working on this
  

"Oh dear" moments:

• getting invited by a girl downstairs to her communist discussion on the situation in Tunisia
• making a fool out of myself during my internship interview: I told the director that I play the violin while making a gesture like I was playing the piano...he was so confused and...I was extremely embarrassed-praise God though because I start later this month :]
  
• joyously swiping my new metro pass...only to get rejected because it wasn't activated yet
• turning and seeing a group of annoyed morning commuters behind me due to the above
  
• ATM eating my bank card because I didn't withdraw it in time, but perhaps I needed a time out from my card anyways. haha. think positive!

Perhaps I'll add more later...

Until then, bisous bisous.

de tout mon cœur,
sleepy sojourner