The Days of October are Slipping Like Sand

mont st. victoire

I went hiking today. Provence is absolutely beautiful (pine-like trees, white cliffs, hills and mountains and nuclear power plants in the distance…). As a result of my adventures, I haven’t finished my homework, but I am not worried. Being outside ranks quite a bit higher than reading complicated articles and analyzing texts (both of which I know are good, just not as good as picnics in the woods).

Before the hike, I was getting a bit of what might be called ‘cabin fever’ if I were a sailor, or ‘cooped up’ if I were a chicken. I found myself complaining a bit more than necessary. They were all legitimate complaints, I will assure you. They are still important concerns, but it was time for them to move on. Fresh air and sunshine has a way of setting things back in place. After the adventure, my friend Amy came over (a friend from school who lives nearby—we often walk home from the bus together and do a lot of laughing about nothing. I’ve met quite a few really wonderful people through the program here). We went swimming and then did our homework in our bathing suits. How often does that happen in October? I may be getting a bit spoiled.

My french is not leaping to great heights, but I do feel the triumph of a correct sentence more frequently these days. Amy and I decided the other day that we’ve reached the adolescent stage in our grasp of the language—still self-concious and awkward, but hopeful. I hear it’s a stage everyone goes through.

I have a funny story to tell. I am not very good at telling stories though. They usually end up long and full of detail without ever really having a punchline. I am going to try though.

A couple weeks ago I joined a frisbee team. We practice Thursday nights and I don’t usually get home until about ten thirty. Sometimes I eat with my host family, but usually they leave some dinner for me in the oven because it is so late. One night my host parents were going out, so they didn’t make dinner. My host brother (Gwion, 15) made dinner for me instead. It was amazing. I was amazed. But not in the way you might think. His mom recently explained to me that when he cooks he often experiments with ingredients. That explains why I was amazed when he pulled his creation out of the oven. For dinner that night Gwion had prepared pizza and an omelette. This was no ordinary omelette though. First there was a layer of some kind of meat (somewhat similar to bacon). Then egg, of course, then pasta. Yes, pasta. I had a pasta omelette for dinner—a curly pasta omelette with cheese on top. It was great. I was hungry. I ate with gusto. Tonight he cooked again. We had sunflower shaped pasta with creamy corn sauce. Also delicious. The end.

It’s been one month and seven days since I arrived. October is slipping by, but not in a bad way—the more it slips, the closer vacation comes. Soon I will be on a train to Austria for a few days and then a plane to Edinburgh for a few more. Before I go galavanting though, I have mid-terms and birthday parties and Mexican food nights to attend to. For now, I should probably get back to that one thing they call studying…

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hiking buddies (left to right, me, Amy, Terrence-- we look like we're crouched for an attack or something, but really we had put the camera on the ground and were all trying to fit into the picture)

an intriguing paint splattered alleyway

there will soon be more photos on facebook :)