Au Revoir Nancy

Saying goodbye is always difficult, especially when there is uncertainty in regards to the hello again.

I personally hate saying goodbye. The finality in the moments leading up to the end is always full of heaviness and sadness. There isn’t really any way to prepare for the final embrace (almost always full of tears) that is a necessary evil. The end of one adventure is leading up to the start of the next but, the melancholy of leaving lingers around as the bitter in bittersweet just as during the end of the first, the sweetness of the unknown in the next adventure makes it more difficult. Each goodbye needs a moment of mourning for the life that had been known because, regardless of the intentions, life will never be exactly the same as before.

Saying goodbye to Nancy (again) is something that I wasn’t really prepared for. I knew before coming how lovely the city and how welcoming the people were but I was unprepared for the sense of attachement I would feel again. It wasn’t easier to say goodbye the second time. For the past 2 days, I've been trying to come up with adequate words that evoke the emotions that I am feeling and I've been failing miserably. I know that I will always hold Nancy near and dear to my heart and it will be a place that will bring a smile to my face due to all of the beautiful places and the lovely people there. 

Without the  support of my host family, this year would have been much more difficult and probably, more lonely. I was unbelievably lucky in that my assistantship was in the same city that my Rotary Exchange was in. Their unconditional love for me is something that I could never have dreamed of deserving. Sunday lunches at theirs, numerous Rotary outings and visits to the Opera brought more French into my life and gave me moments of being a part of a family during this year abroad where the ability to be in contact with my family was difficult. A very special moment this year was Christmas in which they invited me and my sister into their home and had Christmas dinner with them. They have always been so warm and welcoming and have tried to make me feel at home with them. I'm blessed beyond belief in their love and cherish them dearly. Honestly, I can't imagine my life without my host parents or my host sister.

This time around, an added beloved entity that I was forced to say goodbye to was the community of assistants that I had lived with. I’m not sure that I’ve ever felt such a strong bond of understanding and love as I have with this group of crazy, wonderful, unpredictably predictable group of young anglophones. We had a wonderful year full of shenanigans and I wouldn't change a thing. Saying goodbye was difficult but I know that I'll see them again.

Goodbye sounds so final. Bye bye is too cheerful and informal. Cheerio is too pompous while C ya later makes me think only of alligators.  Jennifer Out is too weird, Peace and love is a bit too hippie and hasta la vista is wrong.

 Nancy, I'll leave you with this; Au Revoir.

Place Stanislas

The white cobblestone in uniformly uneven squares sprawling around the regal likeness of the Duke of Lorraine surrounded by the elegant façades of the various cafés, museums, city hall and Opera set the mood in one of my favorite places on Earth: Place Stanislas.

Place Stan is one of those places that no matter the weather or the time of day, will brighten your spirits. The serene atmoshphere of the spacious square is overwhelmingly calming and soothing and will never cease to call to me in its sheer wonderfulness.





Place Stanislas is one of the things in Nancy that makes this city come alive and feel like home to me. Whenever my feet cross over the vast square, there is a stillness that comes over my heart and, even if it is just the slightest bit, it brings me some peace. It is a wonderful place to spend quiet moments to yourself people watching from the edges or a joyful glass of panaché (or wine or coke or a diabolo or ice cream) amongst friends. Place Stan brings out the happiness in every moment spent there and I know that I will always cherish the wonderful memories and will always long to to be encompassed by it's majestic beauty and amidst it's borders.



Place Stanislas holds for me so many wonderful memories with some wonderful people. I've been caught numerous times in it's center under the pouring rain and couldn't help but to laugh and dance around enjoying the beauty that surrounded me. Many a time have I danced in circles with my arms out wide enjoying the wonder that this square has and always will hold for me. It's the place (punny, I know) that I long to bring my parents to so that they can finally see it's beauty. I know that while I won't be able to see it as often, I will return to enjoy it. Basking in the warm sunlight or shivering amongst friends in the rain, regardless of anything else, my heart will always be at home on the Place Stanislas.

P.S. Just for the record, Place Stanislas was voted the fourth most beautiful square in the world! It also boasts a live webcam where you can see in real time for yourself it's charm and wonder!

Last day of School

Today was my last day of school. I can't believe how fast these past 7 months have gone! Saying goodbye to my students and the teachers at my school was both sad and awkward (what do you say to people that you know that you will most likely never see again? Have a nice life?). I have really enjoyed being able to give the gift of a foreign language to my students. Most of all though, they'v'e given me so much joy, laughter and fun times that most of the time, I forgot that I was even at work.

One of the most unique parts of my assistantship was the school that I was placed in itself. Being one of only 3 immersion schools in France, Jean Jaurès in Nancy is so unique in the system that most French people that I now are unawere that it even exists. The fact that it is a public school where the students (as of now) who are in the first, second and third grades spend half of their hours learning in English made being at JJ so easy and interesting! I'm sad to leave my students and their wonderful teachers who welcomed me with open arms and who were so wonderful to work with!

I'm going to miss being called Jenny-fur, the way that my students answered "I'm happy" when asked how they were, being a mini celebrity on the playground, being asked to play hopscotch by students who didn't speak English almost every recess, being tackled by one particular student in a huge bear hug every time she saw me, the way that the students mimicked almost everything I said (especially "goodness gracious"), and most of all, the chorus of "Hello Jenny-fur" that rang through the class whenever I walked in the room. These children have really made it difficult to say goodbye and I know that I will always look back on this year and feel blessed.

On my last day of class, I went to the swimming pool (where one student happened to have an accident and for the second time of my life, I've had poop on my leg), read 2 stories to my classes, got numerous hugs from a few students before telling them it was my last day, got a HUGE bear hug from the majority of my class, was greeted with lots of groans and boos when they found out I wasn't coming back from vacation and had a little boy tear up after realizing I was leaving. It was a lovely day that reinforced the wonderful feelings of this year that I've been having. While I'm sad to leave JJ, I'm excited to go forth on my journey in life and will forever hold this experience near and dear to my heart.

La Bise

Anyone who would like to Bise me is more than welcome
but I can't promise that it won't be without
a few nose bumps!

To any traveler from the US coming to France, one of the most offsetting things that is almost impossible to get used to is La Bise (the typical way of greeting one another by touching cheeks sometimes with your lips, making kissing noises which sometimes are real). It's both a way to say hello and a way to say goodbye and is experienced by everyone in the room whether you're 2 or 20. It's something that I still have a hard time figuring out completely. I have recently come to terms with the fact that kissing acquantainces will never come naturally to me.

La bise is a cultural phenomena that is so puzzling to try and figure out that I typically just stand with my eyes closed and wait for the other person to move around and kiss my cheeks in the way that is natural for them. To be completely honest, closing my eyes is something that doesn't help the ease of flow of the greeting and oftentimes causes more commotion than I bargained for (accidental lip brushings aren't unheard of to the French and that is with them having their eyes open!). To the French, it's an unspoken art to decipher the perfect bise because every region has a little different way of greeting each other. Differences like the number of kisses (varying between 2 and 4), which side to start on and the usage of lips or not make doing la bise as a foreigner almost impossible.

If you ask a French person, they will tell you that to them, hugging someone is a much bigger invasion of personal space and much more intimate than kissing someone on the cheek because of the closeness of the entire body during a hug. In the same way, to someone from the States, kissing as a greeting is much more intimate as it involves lips and the area near one's mouth. It's interesting to me that both cultures feel as though their way is the more conservative way to greet. I'm not sure exactly where I stand on this when it comes to the intimacy level (the French way will always be foreign but beautiful and the US way will be familiar and unexotic) but I do know that I enjoy both.

As someone from the US who isn't too well versed in the art of saying hello by kissing everyone in the room, I recognize the beauty in the major cultural differences in the way people greet each other but am also painfully aware that I wasn't born a kisser. I will continue to la bise for politeness and will certainly miss the greeting upon my departure from France but will forever hold the memories of messed up bises in my heart (most memorably my first kiss that was experienced by accident with an 80 year old man much to my chagrin 5 years ago!).

To Close the P or not to Close the P: A Question of Penmanship

I found this on a blog online but we definitely have one of these charts in my classroom!

Ever since I stumbled into this beautiful country 7 years ago during a high school trip, the French handwriting is something that has puzzled, entranced and eventually, converted me to it's dark side. Coming from a place where each individual is as different as the way they write their a's (like a or like an o with a stem), the indoctrination of an entire country in it's singular handwriting style is as perplexing as it is thought-provoking. To me, it seems as though the strictness in the formation of letters is representative to the freedom of individuality of each country; The US values individual freedoms and the beauty in diversity hence more individual writing styles whereas in France, there is more pressure to be the same and a general attitude of assimilating into one common culture which explains the rigorous writing rules.

While I can't speak for everyone in the US, I know that my handwriting has evolved so much during my short 23 years on this Earth. My handwriting (before coming back to the land of cheese) was a mixture of a bit of stiff cursive, curly print and looping l's and t's. My r's weren't uniform, constantly changing from print to cursive depending on the previous letter and my f's had become nothing more than 2 odd loops on top of one another. Each year of my childhood (which I count up through College lol) brought slight changes to my writing, partially becoming more lazy/wanting to strike out and wither be different or to mimic the cool kids writing. Now, after 7 months of assisting in a classroom where letter height and shape has been one of the most important things, it's lost touch with itself and has become a messy version of the French penmanship that my students who are 6 are able to master.

My students (again, they are 6 years old) are expected to write with a blue pen ALL OF THE TIME except to draw the equals sign in math and to draw in art, write IN CURSIVE perfect letters, perfectly shaped at the perfect height and write on lines that are difficult even for me to fit my letters on! They impress me so much with their discipline and their ability to remember exactly which letter get a supplementary loop (b,o,r,v, and w) and which letters are 3 spaces tall (b,f,h,k,l,p,q, and z). They snicker at my writing on the board and constantly ask me "What does zis say?" in regards to the letters I've written instead of the meaning of a phrase in a foreign language. They're penmanship is daunting and impressive yet scary at the same time. From the time they are 6 (when I met them in October of their first year of school CP, they basically knew what they were doing) until they die, their handwriting will be exactly the same.

No matter how much I've become accustomed to the meticulous French scribbles (which is basically a sacrilege in and of itself to call it scribbles), I will never become used to the way that the French write their P's. They don't close them. As in, a p is basically an n with a long stem. I vowed in the beginning of the year that I wouldn't let myself become influenced to not close my p's but here we are in April and I've realized that I've started to write my p's  à la française. Maybe I'm not as strong as I had imagined to withstand peer pressure (and when I say peer I definitely mean my 6 year olds...).

I'm not sure what my handwriting will look like tomorrow, in a couple of months or later in life but I do know that I feel blessed that I have the choice as to what it will look like and won't be chastized for the way that I make my 9's or my 7's. My personality is a little bit too wild to limit the number of spaces high my H can go or to limit my t being crossed only half of the way. I feel as though part of my soul bursts out of my pen and onto the paper (both in the words that I write and the way that they're written) and I wouldn't have it any other way.

Easter Joy

Easter has always been one of the most special days for me. In addition to the glorious gift of eternal life, it is generally a day full of joy, laughter and family. Easter equals life. It's a new beginning for everyone. It's the start of the awareness that this beautiful second chance was gifted upon you without having been capable of doing anything to deserve it. For me, it inspires me to strive to be the best sister I can to all who I meet and to live a life of putting others first. No matter the weather, Easter is a beautiful reminder of the joy of Spring.

Yesterday was a day that started with the  initial joy of Easter in my heart upon waking up, then feelings of melancholy and sadness arose from the separation from my loved ones that promptly turned back around into feelings of love and peace during moments of community with my friends in the sunshine all while the refrains of "Christ the Lord is Risen Today" and "Thine be the Glory" (in both French and English) danced around my head and out of my mouth. Joyous adventures filled my day from  Mass, while lightheaded with stars dancing in my eyesight due to an allergic reaction of the incense, my mind began to wander slightly to a ride on the Scrambler in an Easter dress brought an extreme case of the giggles everytime the ride zipped around and my dress flew up in the air but the best part of my day was seeing and experiencing the smiles on the faces of my friends (whether they were shared in Place Stanislas around a glass of wine or were a pixelated image on a computer screen during a skype call). All in all, my Easter was grand.

Throughout my entire life, Easter has been a celebration of life and family. The sheer thought of it at any moment of the year brings the edges of my lips into a smile and brings me peace. Beautiful moments spent in the sunshine of my Aunt and Uncle's home with flowers blooming all around and Easter baskets (filled with oddities such as plastic alligators and tootsie roll banks), the off-tune yet joyous voices of my dear brothers and sisters in Christ around a campfire during the sunrise filling the hillside with a hearty chorus of "Alleluia,"and countless Easter hams, (dropped) bunny cakes and left yellow centers of hard boiled Easter eggs give Easter such life and meaning in my life. While yesterday wasn't spent at the cross during the sunrise service or with any of my family members around a traditional Easter table, my Easter still turned out to be one full of wonder and excitement. I spent it  basking in the Sonlight (I'm punny) and bringing joy to those around me. To me, that's the Reason for the Season.

Well now they know (that I'm obsessed with Frozen and can't Let it Go)

There are few times in life that a piece of art will completely change your outlook on life. Oftentimes, they will peacefully insert themselves in the way of a tune that won't get out of your head or a tranquil landscape that is ever present when you close your eyes for a quiet moment. Alright, I can't hold it back anymore... Here I stand in the light of day admitting that this piece of art is none other than the movie Frozen (okay, right after the Sound of Music but I thought that was a given).

I first was introduced to Frozen at the cinema with my little sister. I am so blessed that we both saw the magic that is Frozen in French for the first time together. It's such a sister movie. Every time Frozen comes up in my daily life, I'm taken back to the initial viewing full of funny one liners, beautiful princesses (and a Queen), and tear-jerking moments that we didn't see coming (that even now, after having seen the movie itself at least 6 times still get me every time...). It's so special that we shared that moment together and I'm grateful for it everyday. I look forward to being with her again to watch where there'll be magic, there'll be fun.

No matter how much my friends want me to Let it Go, this fascination with Frozen is one that isn't waning. It is such a special movie and soundtrack that it is constantly floating through my head, out through my lips and belted into the world around me. I can't help but to dance to it with my entire body, almost all of the time. I've noticed around me that whenever the lyrics "Let it go, let it go" come out of anyone's mouth, their arms automatically shoot out from their sides and rise like the break of dawn in a way that is both sassy and powerful (myself definitely included). It brings happiness and joy to my life.

The frenzy that is Frozen on facebook with all of the silly covers, inspirational covers, memes and even the rants make me smile. The community that I feel with anyone who appreciates this movie is so great that it makes me a bit like crazy! So, if you're possibly reading this because you click on anything Frozen on your newsfeed, I'm honored and also, I would like to tell you that I understand the obsession that is Frozen...

This movie is one that overall, inspires me. For the First Time in Forever, I feel as though I've been moved through music to be a better person, friend and sister. So for now, instead of ignoring it, I'm going to let the storm rage on and shout my obsession with Frozen to everyone who will listen (which more often than not is my roommates who have experience the over 1000 play count that is Let it Go on my itunes). I couldn't keep it in, Heaven knows I've tried; this movie makes me happy.

I don't care what they're going to say, I am completely aware that it looks like I'm the queen of Frozen.

Just Keep Swimming

This week has definitely been the week of the swimming pool. Most people who know me know that I'm not the most graceful or the most confidant swimmer so it obviously makes sense that out of all of the assistants, I'm the one asked to assist my 6 year old class with their swimming lessons. I made sure to alert all of the people that I work with that I don't really know how to swim very well and that I'm not very comfortable in the water and the response that I got every single time was, "mais non, ça va aller"(in English, ah, it'll be fine).

In order to mentally prepare for the ordeal that would be swimming with 20 beginner level 6 year olds, I decided to go to the pool to get a jump start. Thankfully, my dear mom sent my bathing suit to me in February so I was almost ready to get in the water. In France, one HAS to wear a swim cap in the pool. Also, if you are a man, you aren't allowed to wear trunks. (no, unfortunately that doesn't mean that they swim naked. They basically all wear speedos). Once at the pool, you walk to these little changing rooms that are very difficult to lock (couldn't figure them out and just had to pray no one walked in for at lease 2 visits to the pool...). Then you go and take a compulsory shower and are ready to get in the water.

I remember the culture shock that I experienced when I was on my exchange 5 years ago when I first walked into the swimming pool. I didn't own a swim cap, couldn't really swim very well and definitely didn't know where to look with so many men in speedos everywhere. This week, after having to help my French students put on their swim caps (it's a  learned skill), start on their journey of swimming and still, absolutely not knowing where to look in the pool when it comes to guys and no trunks (especially when those guys are my 6 year old students who have issues when it comes to not putting their hands down their pants), I have come to appreciate the French swimming pool and all of it's quirks.