Et Voila, C'est Tout!

(I realize looking back that this is by far my longest post ever (for-evah evah, evah evah?), but there was plenty to recap over the past three weeks, and even more to wrap up over the past four months. So please, bear with me)

It appears that my ambition to crank out many more posts some three weeks ago may have been a little bit beyond my actual ability to deliver on that promise. Apparently there was still plenty to do here in that wrap-up period some three weeks ago, from taking a couple more exams to completing some end of the year paperwork to doing much-delayed Christmas shopping. Additionally, everything was compressed into one week because I was off to Paris on that Saturday to meet up with my sister, and eventually my parents as well, for a week’s worth of traveling throughout France. Spending a week in Paris, a day in Dijon and three days in Lyon, we all thoroughly enjoyed ourselves. For the other three members of our traveling circus, the trip served as an introduction to another culture, as combined they had only spent two days in France over the past 30 some years. For me, it helped close the book on this semester abroad.

I’ll quickly summarize the actual trip. In our time in Paris, we basically covered all the tourist sites imaginable, except perhaps the largest one; the Eiffel Tower. I personally walked underneath the tower on four separate days, but due to a laundry list of reasons (huge crowds, cold temperatures, French people closing the tower too early, etc.) we never did actually make it to the top of the symbol of Paris. In reality, however, it was not a huge problem, as we truly did everything else; museums including the Louvre and Orsay, icons such as the Arc de Triomphe and Versailles, and daytrips to Normandy (back to the American WWII Cemetery) and Chartres (very famous gothic cathedral). You name it we did it. Add to that the fact that it was Christmas, when we went to Notre Dame for the first Mass I have been too that was surrounded by tourists (cannot stand those people) taking pictures of the service and of course the Neuman family special of a mother-chosen romantic comedy, and you have yourself one fantastic celebration. Christmas in Paris is apparently a popular celebration, and the city looked its finest throughout the week. But we could not stay there the whole time, and on Saturday evening we packed our bags for a less-than-daytrip to Dijon, where we definitely accomplished our only goal for those 16 hours: buy mustard. With the spreadable gold in hand, we boarded the first TGV possible and headed to, the one and only, Lyon.

By the time we got to Lyon, only my parents remained with me, my sister not being brave enough to venture anywhere outside of Paris. But I still felt a distinct sense of pressure to positively show off the city that I called home for four months and had given such high reviews. On Monday, the city obliged by showing its best side; it rained and was just a notch above freezing. Still we hit the major sites, including the Basilica, Roman theatre and Place Bellecour, and wrapped the sightseeing up on Tuesday with a trip to my now shuttered university. My visitors were staying in the Renaissance quarter of the city (Vieux Lyon), and were quickly enchanted by the winding cobblestone store-lined streets, in addition to the Lyonnais cuisine. Monday night provided some entertainment, as my host family and real family met for the first time, and despite the fact that neither side coherently spoke the other’s language, I think we all agreed on the fact that it was a fun evening. Sadly, the trip did have to come to an end, and my parents headed to Geneva on Tuesday night to catch their morning flight back to DC. I stayed in Lyon for one final night with the Rossis, continually searching for the words to fully express my gratitude for the entire semester.

The trip was simply the final chapter on this four month long experiment and, somehow, that experiment has come to an end. I looked back at the first post that I wrote on here, back when getting a Visa was still an issue, and I did not know the pronunciation difference between Lyon and a lion (its Leeeee-on vs. ly-in). That nervous excitement feels like yesterday, but today I write to you as I head back to the States (and will hopefully post this from my own house in NoVA). The time flew, but it was without doubt time well spent, and I cannot imagine having missed out on such an opportunity.

When I officially decided to pursue study abroad back in January, I remember feeling as if I was signing myself up for something that I was not at all ready for. All the info sessions and power-points seemed all fun and games, but even then I knew that I did not truly grasp the concept of studying, and living, in a completely foreign country (having left North America for a total of 8 days in my whole life). The words on the page were just that, and even as I nodded along I was far from actually absorbing what advisors were telling me. I hit that “commit” button in April to lock myself into a program I was equally scared of and excited for. Even if it was spread out over several months, I hurtled through the abroad process only to board that August flight not knowing what to expect once I stepped off.

My two overarching abstract goals coming into this semester were to learn about France/Europe, and to learn about my own country. Some stereotypes about les Bleus proved to be true; the whole population smokes, strikes are a common occurrence (even if I sadly did not actually get to join one), and berets are fashionable.

But not all French people are snobbish, they do occasionally get up from sipping their cafes to do actual work, and they generally like Americans (thank you Obama!). There are aspects of French culture that I will truly miss, highlighted by the fresh bread and (stinky) cheese at every meal, while there are also those that I cannot wait to get rid of, like the fact that everything in the entire town is closed by 10pm. Walking down the streets, trying to go the library, reading the newspapers, I was constantly reminded about the stark difference between the United States and France: France is a nation of workers while the US is a nation of consumers. For us, if people want it, we will provide it, no matter the hour, in order to make that money, but there the flow of demand is tempered by the willingness of people to actually provide that service. Yes it is probably better for overall wellbeing, but who is to say that we cannot work past a certain hour if people are willing to make the sacrifice in order to earn that little bit extra? The social welfare state has its benefits (universal health care), but I was constantly reminded of its shortfalls as well. On the whole, however, I fell for this second culture, even if its popular culture is completely dominated by America’s. I can only hope that my future somehow leads me back to not only Europe, but more specifically France and this city on two rivers. Lyon may not have been a tourist destination, but it sure was the best possible place to live for a semester abroad.

As much as I profess my newfound love for French culture, I realized at different points throughout the semester that it most likely will always be my second culture. As cliché/Middle America/Sarah Palin-esque as it may seem, I am an American, and I do not think I will ever change that or want to change that. Maybe the future will hold something different, and I will look back on this and laugh, but during these four months I definitely noticed that, even abroad, I am an American above all. I found myself constantly comparing everything back to familiarities in the States, following the news in the US, everything short of going to McDonalds’ in order to reconnect with my long lost homeland.

Most of the other posts I had hoped to write before being swept up in end of semester fever revolved around the complex relationship between Europe and the United States, but since I missed that opportunity, and understanding that few if any of you actually care to hear a rant on that, I’ll spare you of that here (but consider yourself warned!). I’ll try to keep my political comments to a minimum, but I cannot resist from throwing a few in here, so bear with me. Despite what some people may say, the United States is still the most important country in the world, and it is a privilege to be a citizen of our country. Sure, we are not perfect, but every Frenchie I met was genuinely interested in talking with me solely because I am American (of course in addition to my stunning good looks, those go without saying). Learning English is not just a matter of broadening their cultural horizons, but necessary to succeed on an international level in today’s globalized world thanks to the dominance of America. The French news sources follow the actions of the US government (more than just Obama) closer than they follow the French government because they recognize the relative power of each of those two decision makers. While they may not always agree with America, Europe as a grossly-generalized whole recognizes that what the US does the world will follow; one could even argue that they want to follow America, and are more than eager to join in a supporting role. It is our job to take that responsibility seriously.

But enough with the ranting, this is about me ending my semester abroad. I should probably mention the supposed point of this semester, that being actual studying and coursework. That never really did take up a whole lot of ink on this blog because, frankly, up until the last couple weeks I did not actually study. With all of my classes formatted in a straight lecture style where for two hours the professor talked and the students listened (that is assuming the professor showed up for class), and only one final exam at the end (no homework), I was not exactly on the Penn academic calendar. That is not to say that this was an easy semester; instead, study abroad is a different kind of work. There is no way that you could handle a Penn semester in a foreign culture. The majority of my “work” here was spent adjusting to this new culture, overcoming the language barrier, adjusting to life with a host family, etc. While we supplemented it with some activities, namely tutoring in a local high school, these were all relatively minor compared to what we were all accustomed to back in West Philly. We instead were thrown into this new culture, and adapting to that required plenty of effort. Of course there was downtime, and study abroad definitely requires a certain level of personal independence, but after finding the right mix between school work, host family activities and Europe’s wonders, we all were able to find our daily rhythm.

IEP, my university here, has a requirement that every student spends a full year abroad; at Penn, only about 25% of all students take advantage of some kind of abroad opportunity. I tend to side with the French on this one. By stepping out from the Penn bubble for a semester (or two), everyone benefits from a broadening of their horizons that in the very least will help them appreciate their “normal” life back in the States. For Europeans it is relatively easy to discover a different culture; they just walk across a nearby border (no more than a 3 or 4 hour drive away from any town on the continent). It is a bit trickier for Americans, as we have that large ocean in between, but it is a bit embarrassing how little of an effort we make to understand other cultures. With the assumption that the rest of the world will speak English to us, thus nixing any need to actually learn another language, we turn our attention inward, and lose sight of the rest of the world. Study abroad makes you see that need for change, as well as allowing you to benefit from a personal cultural exchange. More people need to take advantage of this opportunity.

I guess it is only fair that I wrap up this post, and this blog, by talking about myself. This whole concept boiled down to the fact that I thought that some people would actually want to read what I had to say, and the jury is still out on whether or not I was right in that belief. But if you for some reason have stuck with me this long, you probably are used to this egotistic side of me anyway, and thus will grudgingly read on.

The fear of eggs hung over me before I left for France, and after having been to the doctor numerous times in the weeks leading up to my trip, I was pretty sure that I was going to run into an egg laced munchies on about day 2. Because of that fear, I really had not thought what the semester would bring on a more global scale. I was going to a city that I had knew practically nothing about, in a program with people that I had either only vaguely met, if ever, or had lost touch with over the course of two years, and in a language in which, in hindsight, I was pretty much lost. But somehow it worked, and I think there are very few of the 23 of us that came out of this semester feeling disappointed. I would be quite surprised if the majority of us do not stay close as we return back to Penn.

But the semester was about more than just the cliché valuable friends; instead, it was about the cliché culture and city that was undoubtedly hard to leave today. After four months of getting to know each other, my sense of sadness in leaving was tempered by the fact that I now know, in some way or another, that I will be back for all the wine, bread, and cheese that France has to offer. And even if my level of French has probably reached its lifetime peak, and if it is all downhill from here in terms of communication, I still have a sense of validation that I made it through four months in this foreign language. I did not try a Croque Monsieur, did not make it to famed Southwest France, did not even learn how to ride a bike in a city built around them, but I literally survived. Talk about accomplishments.

And somehow you are still reading. For those of you anonymous readers (or followers, which I never did quite determine the point of) that did put up with these unorganized musings, thank you for sticking around this semester. I am sure that if you are still here, then the point of this blog will be easily accomplished, that of reconnecting once we cross paths again soon. Instead of having to answer everyone’s least favorite question, “How was abroad?”, which is perhaps the most common yet the most general/vague question you could dream up, we will just be on a whole different level. Not missing a beat coming back to the States, or at least minimizing the gap, is all I can really ask for.

So the ambassador is coming home, sad to leave behind what he gained, but excited for all that he is returning home to rediscover. I hope you all have an awesome New Year’s, and will hopefully talk to all of you in the coming days.

La Fête des Lumières

Yes, it has been a while since I last posted on here, and I apologize for those of you that have been sitting on the edge of your seat waiting for me to drop my latest and greatest words of wisdom. The week long absence can be attributed to two factors. First is not as fun; exams have officially begun, making the whole vacation-in-Europe aspect of this semester vanish into the night air. Just as Penn begins their exam period, my exams in Lyon began today, with two more coming next week. But, in case you think that my life has been completely dominated by school work, remember that I am not at Penn, so there still is time for taking advantage of the surroundings. This brings me to the second reason for my absence, the subject of this post.

Remember back when I kept hinting at the one major tourist weekend in Lyon? Well, it finally came, along with three million tourists. Aptly named “la Fete des Lumieres”, or the party of lights, this Saturday to Tuesday Lyon wide party featured countless lightshows, colored street lamps, and plenty of street vendors selling everything from hot wine to hot dogs. The history, like every major holiday, has largely been forgotten, but I will give you a quick synopsis; threatened by a nasty plague in the 16th Century, the citizens of Lyon prayed to Mary (their patron Saint) for protection, and after she delivered, they decided to celebrate in her honor every year on December 8th (due to commercialization, and much to the lament of my host mother, this now always includes a weekend, somehow). The traditional way to celebrate is by placing little candles on your windowsill, and throughout our Tuesday night travels, we were impressed by the number of Lyonnais that still hold to this tradition.

But the new and improved way to celebrate is with lightshows, and the city did them up right. The premise is that they use the historic buildings of the city as a backdrop, and splash 10 to 15 minute short films onto the building’s façade. Examples: on City Hall, the show was called “playing with time”, and featured a huge clock and metronome surrounding by the changing of seasons (seen in the picture above). On St. Jean Cathedral, they had an animated history of the Church. You get the picture. Over the course of three nights (fine, I had to take one night to study/relax), and with both my host family and fellow Americans, I managed to see about five out of 15 of said shows. Clearly need some work, but I definitely was not disappointed in my performance either.

But the lightshow was not the entire attraction. The historic Louis XIV statue in Place Bellecour is currently in the shadow of a massive Ferris wheel, visible from basically the entire city. Apparently it is going to be up through Christmas, but this weekend it doubled as another screen for a lightshow (those Europeans do not like to waste anything). The other main feature of the weekend was not one, but two sets of fireworks displays (the more impressive display booming over the Basilica was the set of fireworks saved from this year’s rained out Bastille Day festivities). Although my host mother kept complaining about how her taxes were literally going up in smoke as the show dragged on, the “leftover” fireworks were very impressive, up to American quality. Sadly, the second round, set off Tuesday night from a bridge on the Rhone, failed to live up to the lofty precedent, and were so low to the ground as to seem somewhat illegal. Still, I was skeptical going into this about the quality of French fireworks, but I am coming out of it pleasantly surprised.

It really was a party for all, with infants and French students and elderly people seamlessly interspersed through the crowds. And speaking of crowds, they were impressive. The unofficial count was placed at three million but whatever the official figure, the city seemed to be just about stretched to the limit. The entire center of town was shut down to cars, yet the streets were still jam-packed with people. This festival is a Lyon only thing, so people came from across France (even the Parisians respect its value) and Europe just for this weekend. Never had I seen so many people in any part of Lyon, and the scene just repeated itself on every corner, street, hill, even the stairs were crowded (of panting people stopping for a midway break). The cameras were out in full force, complete with those tourists who take pictures of buildings that even I can look at and question why someone would ever want to remember that. Languages spanning all of the Old World floated into my ears, including English, and plenty of maps were being analyzed by groups sporting faces with that distinct look of being lost. Tents of street vendors lined the Saone, selling everything from kebabs to crepes to French fries, and there was even a Native American music tent. Everything tacky/touristy you can think of, for one weekend, Lyon had it.

For four days, Lyon was awash in light, and the city I have come to love came to life. It was a completely different side of the city than I had ever seen, with a typical cultural celebration overwhelmed by the crowds. It was fun to see so many people trying to get a glimpse of this city I am currently calling home, even while I realize that the majority of them were bouncing to and from historic sites simply to gaze at what is projected on them, and not caring about what is inside them. But if that is what it takes to get people to recognize this hidden gem on the Rhone, then I am all for it.

Quick editor’s note in that I am nearing the end of my semester here, yet still have a few topics to rant about, so both this weekend and after the close of my exams next week, I hope to roll a few of these out consecutively in order to beat the clock. Hope you can keep up.

Encore, l’Exploration de la Ville (et le Tourisme)

So much for what I said about Lyon not being a tourist destination. For once, I was in Lyon throughout the whole weekend, a feat not accomplished since late September, and to take it one step further, I actually hosted a visitor who came to Lyon out of his own free will! Yes, strange but true, but Spencer Glantz, of Madrid fame, repaid me the visit in my home-away-from-home, and as such I once again took advantage of all the finest tourist traps Lyon has to offer. Going into the weekend, I was a bit concerned we would run out of things to do, but we ended up having to run just to keep up with our itinerary.

After he arrived late in the afternoon on Friday, we took in a few of the sights on the way back to the house, where Spencer had the fortune of meeting the host family. Now, Spencer speaks no French (despite what he may believe), and I had warned my host mother about this much earlier in the week (she even speaks a little Spanish, which Spencer is far better at). However, at dinner she kept insisting on speaking to him in French, with a “welcome to France, now speak French” attitude. Thus, even though she had prepared us a wonderful French mean (as usual), and was trying to be very nice and welcoming, I think Spencer’s head was spinning as she continued to ask him questions in French. I tried to come to his aid, but by the end I was only rephrasing words in French for him, not translating, as the language barrier was playing mind games with all of us at the table. It was a train wreck, but in the end an enjoyable experience, and both parties left with positive impressions of each other. The nightcap was a movie on the big screen, Wedding Crashers (again in French, but it translates pretty well), and we hit the bed early to rest up for our big day on Saturday.

We woke up Saturday not to the sun that we had hoped to find shining through the windows, but instead to the gray clouds that seem to perpetually hang over Lyon. But, no worries, we ambitiously started off on our way. Everything from the iconic Basilica of Fourviere, to the crumbling Roman Amphitheater to the seven hundred year old clock inside the Cathedral of St. Jean, we did it. As is every European city, Lyon has many historical artifacts, and if you take a second to think, it is almost unfathomable that something could have been standing there for more than 2000 years. So many changes have come to the surrounding areas and people, but some of those stones in the Roman theater are still hanging out there. Or take the astronomical clock in St. Jean, which still functions today, yet makes references to how the sun revolves around the Earth. Makes you wonder what will still be standing seven hundred years from now, and what historical oddities will be worth mocking at that point in time.

We did it all on Saturday, and by the end of it we were exhausted. We headed over to Lyon’s central park (a recent discovery for me) for a relaxing break from all the picture taking, yet were unfortunately rebuffed by a surprise early closing for the day (no explanation, but it’s the French, so what do you expect). We were able to get a little Penn group together for dinner, and as usual we all tried to combine our French to decipher what exactly was on the standard Lyon menu, yet still were pleasantly surprised when we actually received what we had ordered. No major concerns (or eggs), and considering he comes from a program in which he is one of two Quakers, I think Spencer enjoyed getting back into a group of Penn friends. We tried to show him Lyon’s “wild” or “fast and furious” nightlife (according to my European travel book), but we quickly remembered why that definition is so far off after being turned away from two places because they were simply too full (with few options, everyone seems to congregate in just a couple places after midnight). But, with an early flight back the next morning, we were more than content to head back up the stairs for the night.

I sent Spencer on his way Sunday morning, and I think he left with a positive impression of Lyon. After playing tour guide for a weekend, I am starting to realize that maybe I have been a bit harsh on Lyon over the past couple weeks. Spencer said he was expecting a “small village,” but instead I was able to show him a thriving (and charming) European city. Still no Paris, but I realized this weekend that there is definitely plenty going on in Lyon on a regular basis. And if that is not enough, apparently most of the city is a UNESCO world heritage site, quite a prestigious award for a second city.

The weeks keep rolling by here, and I’m starting to realize that eventually this semester will draw to a close. As this weekend only confirmed, I’m definitely going to miss this city.

Encore à Lyon et la Vie Quotidienne

It’s welcome back week here in Lyon, and after the majority of us spent the break seeing the world over, it is definitely nice to return to the quiet normalcy of daily life. That being said, Lyon is trying to make us not feel so welcome, as three out of my four days back have featured cloudy skies and a cold, light rain (and I thought I left London). Still, after traveling to four separate tourist hubs for the past week, being bombarded with even more foreign languages and cultures, and bouncing from airport to airport, France’s second city is just perfect right now.

The charm of Lyon became clearer to me over the past weekend, while the four of us were in Monaco gawking at fur hats and Lamborghinis while not trying to look too out of place. Over the course of our time together, the other three characters I was with all individually made comments about how their cities are constantly flooded with tourists, and how their constant presence bothers everyday city dwellers like themselves. After moving past the clear shenanigans of their claims to be “true citizens” of their respective cities (it has been 2 months people), I realized this does not apply to me at all. No, this is not due to any sort of odd personal fondness for loud tourist groups snapping pictures of random buildings I walk by everyday; instead, their simply is a lack of tourism in Lyon. Besides one major weekend a year (we’re getting there, stay tuned), Lyon is not a popular vacation destination, even within France. None of the other Americans that I know studying in France are spending a weekend in Lyon, neither for pleasure nor for a school sponsored trip, and those that are coming to visit me from elsewhere in Europe are doing so grudgingly. If you are looking to buy an “I (heart) Lyon” t-shirt or any other cheesy Lyon merchandise you will be sorely disappointed, as there are simply no shady street vendors hawking souvenirs.

Still considering myself as a tourist, I guess I had not fully grasped this emptiness until I took my own voyages to “real” destinations. This week I have been taking a critical eye to the city, trying to discern why no one would want to visit here. We have a stunning basilica overlooking the city, one of the largest public squares in Europe, and not one but two rivers (not to mention our own mini-Eiffel Tower!). Lyon’s history dates back to the days as the capital of Gaul in the Roman Empire, later becoming a major player on the Silk Road, and more grimly as a leader in the resistance movement against Vichy France and the Nazis. The food is famous worldwide (yes, even Parisians recognize that Lyonnais cuisine is the best in France), and the sidewalk cafes are innumerable and function perfectly well in even the harshest weather (they pull these glass walls out of nowhere, turn on the heat lamps, and are good to go). True, we only have one skyscraper (a Radisson hotel lovingly referred to as The Crayon), but any look across the skyline will reveal a vibrant European city.

However, what is Lyon’s main function in today’s world, despite all these wonderful aspects? As a transit hub. For most of France, its best attribute is that Lyon has two train stations, and on a TGV it is only two hours to Paris. You can change trains here to get to Geneva, or Nice, or Brussels, but make Lyon a final destination? Now that is just absurd! Any French people I have met over the course of my travels have each had similar reactions when I tell them I am studying in Lyon for the semester: “oh, that’s nice. Have you been to Paris yet?”

But even as I look out the window into the thick layers of clouds hanging over the city, I cannot help but to think of how happy I am to have chosen Lyon, and how glad I am to have two more months here. No, there are not too many sites to see, the rivers may not be that picturesque, and you do actually have to speak French to get by here. But as a place to study, to experience French culture and to live, it may just be perfect. Lyon does not need many tourists to feel alive; with students, artists and chefs making up a majority of the population (or so it seems), the city generates plenty of its own energy. It will never be Paris, but it will never try to be either. Paris is a capital of the world, the heart of internationalism, with a French flair to it. Lyon is the capital of French culture, with an authenticity that permeates into nearly aspects of daily life.

I know I have mentioned this aspect of Lyon before, but all that traveling really hammered this point home for me (again). Contrary to popular belief, I am not applying for a position at the Office of Tourism here (yes, there is one), I just felt the need to stand up for my new home-away-from-home. Despite the high level of satisfaction among the ordinary citizens of Lyon, the city still has a poor reputation internationally, or more precisely no reputation at all. Clearly, I’m working on changing it.

So before you start to think that I am studying abroad in a boring land of emptiness, just remember one phrase, namely the city slogan: Only Lyon.