The final countdown

The moment I fell in love with the Atlantic Ocean

I literally never thought I would see this day, but here I am in Bordeaux with one week left. It's absolutely mind-boggling to think back on this semester...I would say like it feels like just yesterday that I was unpacking my things and moving into my new home with the Etchebers but in reality I feel like I've been here ages. I've had first day of school jitters in another country, eaten brain, watched the sun rise while walking home from clubs in Barcelona, canoed through the French countryside, drunk Prosecco five minutes from the Pantheon, seen Paris from the top of the Eiffel Tower (and then again from the depths of the catacombs), stayed out all night, slept all day, taken finals in a different language (hopefully passed them)...everything is flooding back to me and it seems SURREAL. Saying goodbye to all my friends, American and French, is much harder than I thought too. I knew that I would make wonderful connections here in Bordeaux but I haven't even left France and I'm already plotting my return. The French language may sometimes be a huge pain in the ass (I swear I will NEVER learn how to pronounce the difference between dessous and dessus), and while nothing can compare to the joy of a humongous California burrito after a long day in the Sacramento sun, I am going to seriously miss my life in Bordeaux. I have gotten gloriously used to waking up to a fresh croissant on the kitchen counter, buying our ritual late-night bottles of wine from the mec at Victoire, getting lost in the city and then stumbling upon medieval ruins, going to apartment parties and gossiping in French, and being able to take a train and be in Paris 3 hours later. This semester abroad was nothing short of a beautiful crazy cultural rollercoaster... I'm staring at the two suitcases that are laying empty on my floor and wondering how the hell I'm going to take all of it back with me.

These colors don't run!

The other day I had a sort of revelation about my time abroad. Bear with me. While watching the news with my host-family (broadcasting the usual- some democratic uprisings over there, some people protesting over here, oh and hey did you know that we finally killed that Osama guy?) I found myself saying to them, "Sometimes I really hate my country." My host-mom gave me a weird look, so I corrected myself: "Okay, sometimes I really really disagree with what my country does." And then I thought about it. It's true that 90% of what I study at Berkeley reinforces the idea that America (and the rest of the West) is a big old imperial bully. We came, we saw, we conquered, and then we re-invaded as we saw necessary. I sometimes joke that Peace and Conflict Studies should be called "Life Sucks 101" because there are times when, half-way through a 300 page reader titled Global Poverty, you sort of realize that LIFE SUCKS for a lot of people around the world, and often times their plight is a result (however indirectly) of some policy or intervention that the United States has participated in. It's enough to make a girl want to stay in France forever. 


On the other hand (par contre), I have spent more than a handful of evenings here in Bordeaux explaining to my french friends that the United States isn't all 100% evil, that there is a method to our madness, and that we actually do a lot of good in the world as well (because we do!). Plus, it isn't easy being an aging hegemony; we have enough drama to deal with on our own soil without getting involved in the spiraling decline of the world at large...and it's not really our fault that our past leaders bit off more than they could chew, metaphorically speaking. It's a flustering experience, having to defend your motherland all the while knowing in the back of your mind that you are probably going to end up writing a thesis arguing against what you just said. And the ironic thing is, I actually DO believe everything I'm saying! The United States really IS a land of opportunity- I mean, I am attending the number one public university in the world, I have never once been turned away from something because of my race or gender, and I am friends with people from all walks of life (black, brown, white, yellow, purple, you name it Berkeley has it). America, for all its faults (and there may be many), has given me an endless amount of opportunities and experiences that, even in France, I wouldn't be privy too. 

Last weekend on the tram home a man approached Laurel and me because he had heard us speaking English. He told us he was born in Bordeaux but had lived almost his whole life in Florida, and he was curious as to what we thought of the differences between French and Americans. We replied the usual: Americans think the French are smelly snobs and the French think Americans are ignorant brutes. He laughed and then said something that I really liked: "You guys have a lot of courage, studying abroad. It's not easy to live in a place where you don't know the language or culture, but it's really important for people to see that the stereotypes aren't true." So I think the tram-stranger summed it up pretty well; every culture on earth has a stereotype and even though it may be slightly true that Americans have done some not-so-cool stuff in the past (okay, and in the present), that doesn't mean that every single American is a passive subscriber or an ignorant brute! So I take back what I said to my host-mother, I don't hate my country. In fact, I love the United States. It's a land of guacamole and freedom and baseball and universal suffrage. And I love the United States so much that it's my duty, and the duty of every other American, to contribute to shaping a country that we are proud to call home. Now what could be more patriotic than that. 

Mama Mia!

Spring break for those studying abroad in Bordeaux is really just like an extended weekend...done with classes and "studying for exams" is actually code for "buy a ticket, pack your bags, and go south to warmer climate!" So, as I finished my last week of official classes at the University on Thursday I also got ready for the arrival of my mom on Friday, and the beginning of our insanely fun spring break adventure. Maman arrived jetlagged but stylish on Friday afternoon and after a whirlwind walking tour of Bordeaux we spent the night eating dinner with my host family (5 courses, a cheese plate from heaven, macarons, and 3 bottles of wine). The next morning we woke up (too) early to catch a train to Biarritz, the surf capital located in the heart of the French Pays Basque (Basque region). I could go on and on about how much I love the pays basque but in the interest of brevity I will just say that when I am ridiculously rich I am buying a house on the Basque coast and spending my days on the beach eating gâteau basque, drinking Basque cider, and enjoying one of the most colorful cultures I have ever come across. The beaches in Biarritz were full of surfers and the old town full of friendly locals who were happy to chat with us about the history of the Basque region, the politics of the area, the best beaches to visit, and how we must be sisters because we looked so much alike (charming, as you can imagine :) We really profiter-ed from Biarritz because we left Sunday night a few shades tanner and ready for our next adventure. 

Monday morning we awoke, (too) early again, to catch our plane to Milano where we then hopped on a crowded and smelly train to Cinque Terre (TrenItalia, I never thought I would say this but you made me MISS french public transportation!). We got to Monterosso, the farthest north Cinque Terre village, around dinner and wasted no time in checking in to our hotel LITERALLY on the beach and setting out for a walk around town with our trusty companion, Rick Steves Guide to Italy. Seeing as the town is inhabited by about 200 people, it didn't take us too long to get a feel for the cozy and sleepy town of Monterosso. We ate dinner at a restaurant on the beach, and my mom and I shared shrimp scampi and stuffed mussels. One perk of living on the coast- the seafood here is DAMN delicious! Tuesday and Thursday we spent exploring the four other villages of Cinque Terre. Normally the five villages are connected via a hiking trail that is about 17 km long. My mom and I were intent on doing the whole walk but it turned out to be a blessing in disguise that a portion of the trails were Chuiso (closed), because after just one full day of train-ing and walking in between the villages we were exhausted! Luckily, a siesta on the rocky beaches of Monterosso was enough to revive us (okay, and maybe some pistachio gelato too). Cinque Terre is really a spectacular place to visit- we were able to hike the 1 1/2 hour trail from Corniglia to Vernazza and the views that we got from the top of the hill looking out over the coast were INSANE. It sort of felt like we were on the edge of the universe! It was even a little bit scary at times because unlike in the lawsuit-happy USA, the Italian trails are not marked with fences and warning signs to keep you from accidentally tumbling down the sheer cliffs into the rocky blue water. But being "en bonne forme" (the french phrase for 'not a fat ass') we were able to deftly conquer the Cinque Terre! 

Thursday night we stopped by La Spezia to pay a visit to Ellie, a friend of my Mom's who is also the sister of Hot Italian chef Fabrizio- small world right? La Spezia is a pretty industrial grimy town compared to the picturesque Cinque Terre, but we spent a really fun night with Ellie at her restaurant La Trarvenetta. She invited two of her Italian friends to eat dinner with us and even though we didn't speak Italian and they barely spoke English, we somehow managed to laugh and talk for 4 hours over endless plates of homemade pesto, mussels, foccacia, and spaghetti. I think there is a universal language, and it's called good food! My mom and I rolled ourselves the next day to Milan, where we peeked inside the Duomo, saw some cool Carravaggio art, and went on a frantic search for Italian boots. The following morning we took the train back to Bordeaux, and realized that there is probably no other mother-daughter pair in history that could fit as much sightseeing/impulse-buying/eating/tanning/laughing in 24 hours as we can. I really feel so lucky and grateful that my mom and I were able to share such a beautiful and unique experience together...she and I are definitely cut from the same colorful, sometimes crazy, but definitely loving cloth! Because we took way too many photos to choose from, I'll just post this link so you can see them all (or just skip to the ones of the food, I don't blame you).

http://gallery.me.com/biancataylor

Rest in Peace, Jasmine Jahanshahi

This post is going to be on a slightly less upbeat note, as I found out yesterday that one of my friends, floormates, and classmates from UC Berkeley passed away after her apartment caught fire. Jasmine was studying in Paris at Sciences Po, and was quite frankly one of the brightest and smartest girls I have ever known. I remember her coming into my dorm room freshman year, sitting on my desk while I was writing a paper, and she and I spending the next hour talking about the intractability of the Palestinian/Israeli conflict, just like that. Jasmine was truly a worldly soul who never once stopped exploring, learning, or asking why things are the way they are. She wanted to make the world a better place, and there is absolutely no doubt in my mind that she did just that. Her beautiful spirit and contagious passion to LIVE life was something that touched every person who knew her. It's hard not being in Berkeley to share her memory with our other friends, because we are all currently (like Jasmine was), living our dream and studying abroad. But we are all reminded that you don't have to be back-packing across Europe or riding elephants in Thailand or skydiving in the Grand Canyon to live life to the fullest. Please take the time to appreciate how beautiful and really precious life is, and that no matter where you are or what you are doing, it is too short to ever spend one second not doing something you love with the people you love. That's all there is to it! That said, get off the computer, go outside, and LIVE! 

gros bisous in loving memory of Jasmine <3 

RaRaRoma/A trip to the motherland

the Roman Forum

I'm starting to realize that there are too many places in the world that I want to live in. I might need to figure out how to clone myself so that I can be in all of them at once...but until then I can just relive my memories of visiting Rome. On a Wednesday afternoon I left Bordeaux with a backpack full of fringe and plane tickets and landed in Italia, where Kelsey (best friend since age 8/lover of all things ancient and roman) was there to meet me with some fresh foccacia.This is why we are friends. We spent the next three days traversing Rome by foot and bus, and I absolutely fell in love. Aside from all the famous monuments that are, of course, spectacular and incredible, just walking down the streets of Rome feels like a step back in time. Strolling through cobble stone alleys (usually while nibbling some prosciutto), we would literally just RUN into ruins, ancient piazzas, old fish markets, columns that are the only remains of the first temple to Apollo, and beautiful marble statues dedicated to emperors, rivers, gods, you name it. After walking for hours we would stop once, maybe twice (okay, sometimes three times a day) for a gelato or cannoli to boost spirits. The best gelato place in Rome is a small Sicilian joint a few blocks away from the Vatican (never been more proud of my Sicilian heritage!), where I got the server's recommended pairing of pistachio, Modica chocolate, and cannoli. Words cannot describe, so here's a picture: 

I wonder how much it costs to airlift gelato from Rome to California...

the beautiful Tiber River

In addition to eating an impressive (alarming?) amount of gelato, we managed to visit almost every famous ruin ever. The Colosseum reminded me a little of the football stadium at Cal (cracks in the foundation included) and left me with a weird craving to watch Russel Crowe movies. The Vatican and St Peter's Basilica were in a word- impressive. St. Peter's is GIGANTIC (it measures 2 football fields in length) and full of beautiful ornate architecture and Michaelangelo's famous Pietra sculpture. Michaelangelo is every where in this city, including the Sistine Chapel, which was crazy cool but neck-cramp inducing because the ceiling is SO high and there is SO much to look at. We cruised by the Trevi Fountain, made some wishes, lounged on the Spanish Steps, took goofy pictures at the Pantheon, and marveled at how the Romans could build structures that, even today, remain impressive feats of architectural genius. I was really really sad to leave Rome, Kelsey, the cheap bottles of Prosecco, and the vita italiana...this summer I'm buying some Italian books and some leather sandals and preparing for my triumphant return. Prego!

 

 

 

 

Let's play Spot the Tourist!

 

 

 

 

 

   

This one time I went to Paris and got to speak French

I've gotten to a point now where I am in France but no longer feel like a tourist. AND IT'S WEIRD. This weekend I went to Paris and met up with some of my best friends from Berkeley, and walking around the most beautiful city in the world felt strangely normal...I recognized the food (even the weird organs!), could listen to people's conversations and know what they were talking about, and was able to ask for directions and have people respond to me in French. I even got a library card to the STUNNINGLY AMAZING Bibliothèque St. Genviève at the Place de Panthéon. This may all seem mundane but for me it was absolutely blissful! These were all things that I took for granted in California, but the minute I landed in France I realized that I would no longer be surrounded by all the comforts of home, which definitely includes knowing what I'm eating, what people are saying around me, and knowing where I am going. A highlight of the weekend was going to an Irish pub with Bryanna on St Patricks day, where a mec tellement bourré (man dutifully celebrating the drinking holiday) held his pint up to my face and yelled "santé!" (cheers!)....however, I heard "sentez!" (smell this!!). You can probably imagine the confusion that ensued. In sum, I spent a weekend in a completely foreign city without feeling totally like a foreigner...which leaves me with a bit of an identity crisis but I am willing to go with it for the next couple of months!

Back in Bordeaux things couldn't be better (well, actually if someone wanted to send me a vegetarian burrito from oscars I would be ETERNALLY GRATEFUL). The weather is getting warmer and sunnier everyday, I am doing relatively well in my classes (french grades don't really equal american grades though so I'm not terribly stressed), and the time spent with my friends (american and French) and host family continue to be lovely and lots of fun. I have been on the phone lots with my mom and dad planning our respective vacations and I am willing to say that my study abroad cup is definitely half-full: I am literally giddy (en francais: passionée!) thinking about all of the traveling and eating and exploring yet to come!

I officially like escargots

I can check out books here!!

This big tower thing kept on getting in the way of our pictures

I left my heart in San Sebastian

Cailin, me, Laurel in front of Playa de la Concha

atop Mount Urgull

poor little guy...

This weekend, I fell in love... It's a pretty serious affair, we spent all weekend together and I never once got bored. In fact, as the days passed I found myself falling deeper and deeper in love! Oh mon amour, thy name is San Sebastian, Spain. Early Friday morning Laurel and Cailin and I lugged our backpacks stuffed with gummy candy, peanuts (because they didn't have peanut butter in the exotic food section of Auchan!!!! quelle horreur), and a tasty meat snack (dried sausage mmm) to Bordeaux St Jean train station. We took the TGV train to Hendaye, a cute little border town, and then the Eusko Tren from Hendaye to San Sebastian. What we quickly realized is that, even though it's only 2 hours from Bordeaux, San Sebastian might as well be a whooole different planet. It's located in the Basque region of northern Spain (Donostia is the Basque name for the city), which means that the culture and language is very specific (and very unlike Spanish and French). Plus, instead of the gray skies of Bordeaux, San Sebastian looks like a little cove of sunshine-y paradise, complete with sparkling blue water, golden sand, gorgeous views, and old beautiful boulevards. We made our way to the hostel easily (because SS is so small that you could probably walk across the whole city in a half hour), and were smitten to find that our fellow hostel-mates were a group of Europeans/Americans also studying at University of Bordeaux. Quelle chance! 

We spent our first day picnic-ing on Playa Zurriola, which is the surfing beach. Although we were a little optimistic in wearing bikinis and shorts (the weather was warmer than Bordeaux but it wasn't THAT much warmer...), we got a kick out of the old man sitting next to us who was completely nude except for his swimcap. After a stroll around the old city and dinner of tapas and sangria, we met our new hostel friends for a night out on the town. The next morning we awoke, still sandy and full of calamari, and met our friend Jason (another berkeley student studying in Bordeaux). We took a funicular up to Mount Igueldo where we saw an AMAZING view of the entire cove paradise that is San Seb. This place is seriously breathtaking! We spent the rest of the afternoon lounging on La Playa de la Concha (the biggest of the 3 beaches) soaking up the sunshine and "profiter"-ing from the gorgeous weather. Our last day in San Sebastian started with being being waken up at 9 am by a strange horn parade in the streets. But we took advantage of the early start and set out to climb Mount Urgull on the other side of the city from Mount Igueldo and complete with a giant Jesus statue on top. Again, we were just blown away by the natural beauty of San Sebastian. It felt like all of the colors of the world were intensified: the water, the sand, the sky, the greenery, the clouds, just magical! We climbed down the mountain and decided to have our last meal of Seafood Paella, and I'll just say that if I had any vegetarian-bone left in my body it no longer exists... Something about ripping a crustacean apart with your bare hands just makes you feel like a bona-fide carnivore. We left San Sebastian sleepy, a little bit sunburnt (HOORAY), but 100 percent satisfied. This vacation was absolutely one to remember, and if anyone feels like going to Donostia anytime soon I would be more than happy to play tour guide :)