Coming to Terms With the End

We are now 12 days away from the end of my semester abroad, and to sum it up into one phrase, it’s been one crazy journey.

My program adviser here in Lyon said the very first day at orientation that we didn’t actually know who we are, but at the end we would discover who we truly are. My friends here and I have been talking about this a lot this past week.

Who are we? Have we really changed that much? We feel different, but do we actually? Is this feeling a real feeling or is it because we want to believe we’ve changed?

My answer to all of those questions is that I don’t know.

I feel braver now, and I feel more free. I think there’s something really special about studying abroad for a month, a semester, a year… no matter how long you’re gone it doesn’t really matter, what matters is that you took that risk. When you take a risk like that you will be different, but studying abroad doesn’t really change you. All it does is unlock that part of yourself that was still afraid. It doesn’t matter what your fear was really, but when you leave behind everything you’re familiar and comfortable with, it’s like you can finally just be you, and just experience the world with this beautiful and liberating sense of wonder.

It’s difficult to think about how I won’t be living in Lyon anymore. Don’t get me wrong, I’m so incredibly thrilled to be going back; I miss my family and friends so much, and I can’t wait to be trampled and licked to death by my dogs. But while I’ve been here in Lyon I made new friends, and my host family is genuinely like my second family, and it’s going to be so hard to leave them behind. Lyon truly has become a home for me.

That’s something they try to explain to you, but it never sticks pre-departure. You leave a part of yourself in your host country when you return home, a portion of your heart remains, and I haven’t even returned home yet, but I know it’s going to be a very tough transition. This experience has been so life-altering and rewarding, and it’s going to be difficult going back to the day-to-day life in the US.

There are a lot of things I’m really worried about for my return. I’m worried I’m going to be in-denial about not returning for a long, long time even though I know I want to be back some day, it may not be for a while. I’m worried that I’m going to throw myself into different aspects of my life to try to forget about the Lyon-shaped hole I’ll have. I’m worried that the reverse culture-shock is going to be way worse than the culture shock coming in, and that was already pretty bad.

However, I can’t let that get to me before I’ve even left. I’ve been trying to make plans for how to prepare myself for any counter culture-shock, such as keeping in contact with all of the amazing friends I’ve made here. We all live in different states, but we are already making plans to visit one another, and I know that we will all remain friends for a long time; you don’t go through something like this together and just forget about one another. I also have plans to keep in touch with my host family, and they’ve encouraged me to call as often as I need to if I ever just want to chat in French.

Speaking of French, I am also planning on rejoining French club so I can continue to speak French, because it would be shame to lose all of the progress I’ve gained this past semester just for lack of practice.

I know that it’ll be super tough, but I have a lot of love to surround myself with when I return. Memories of my time here, the life I shared with my host family and my friends here, the sense of joy I’ll feel to be with my loved ones back home again… the possibilities are endless.

My journey may be coming to an end in Lyon, but the adventure never truly ends, and I’m excited to see where the adventure of life takes me next.

La Fête des Lumières

Bracing myself for the blast of cold air about to enter the apartment, I open the first window and set the candles up on the outside ledge. One by one I light the candles, not truly understanding the tradition, but feeling the magic of it nonetheless. Magic is quickly replaced by cold though, so I hurry to light them all and shut the window before moving on to the next.

Today marks the third day of La Fête des Lumières, “The Light Festival” in Lyon. “Travel every weekend you want, but you must stay in Lyon for La Fête des Lumières!” My host family had told me (en Français, of course.) So I did, and I do not regret it one bit.

Thursday through Sunday each year on the weekend of the 8th of December, La Fête des Lumières rolls into town. There’s two whole weeks of prep, and then when Thursday comes along the whole city changes. There’s light spectacles, music, street food (the crêpes make me drool they’re so good!) and of course, the tourists.

Over 4 million people crowd into our town to view the spectacles each year, and they keep coming back. Why? Because each year they are unique, and each year they find new ways to take your breath away. If you want to visit Lyon, I definitely recommend coming during La Fête des Lumières, but also, I highly recommend coming at the beginning of the week and not just for La Fête. You’ll see a good majority of the non-video lights at the beginning of the week, plus there’s way less crowds, and Lyon has a lot to offer.

If you like history, you can visit the Musée Gallo-Romain and learn all about the Roman influences in Lyon. If you like art then you can easily spend a whole day in the Musée des Beaux-Arts. If you like a mix of everything, then you have to visit my favorite museum, the Musée de Confluences where you can find space age information, national history/archaeological findings, a great exhibit on poison, you name it.

However, I do have to give the tourists some credit. La Fête des Lumières is truly a sight to behold. No photo does it justice, no video either… it’s truly something you have to be there to see, and yesterday was the most magical part of La Fête.

Yesterday was the 8th of December. The celebration of the Light Festival traces back centuries, specifically 1643. It started as a celebration to the Virgin Mary for saving Lyon from the Plague after they promised to make tribute to her if she saved them. Each year on the 8th of December the Lyonnaises would light lanterns and candles by the Basilica in Fourvière, a neighborhood in Lyon. However, in 1852, a huge storm struck Lyon and they were unable to light any lanterns to pay tribute to Mary. Instead of canceling the celebration, everyone in Lyon went to their house and lit a candle in their window facing the street so that they could still pay tribute to her. That tradition has stuck, and ever since, rain or shine, at 8pm on the 8th of December everyone lights candles in their street-side windows, and that’s just what I did.

Nowadays, the festival has turned away from just being a tribute to Mary, but also being a celebration of Christmas, loved ones, and life. No matter the age, you’ll find people wandering in the streets all night to watch the lights and spend time with their loved ones.

La Vie Comme Une Lyonnaise

“Life as a person from Lyon”

I have officially been living in Lyon for 55 days, and I can’t help but wonder where all the time has gone? It seems like just yesterday I was getting lost in the public transit or getting locked out of my apartment. (Although I still stand by the fact that the doors here are way less user friendly than at home!)

In these 55 days Lyon has truly become a second home for me, and I’m not looking forward to the day that I have to leave this all behind. I will miss stepping outside of my building and being immediately greeted by the glistening waves of the Saône River, and my walk to class when I pass by at least four boulangeries where the warm scent of fresh baking bread greets me. I’ll miss the swarms of pigeons and the quick bobbing of their heads when I walk to close and they rush out of my way.

Each day holds something new in store for me, and it’s been a welcome change from my days at home that sometimes start to seem robotic. Of course I still have my routines here though too, just on a smaller scale. There’s this café called, “Comme à la maison” (like home) where you can find my friends and I whenever we have free time between class. We’re there so often that the employees all know us and our orders, although we do tend to change it up on them from time to time. We’ve discovered many nooks and crannies of our city, and what’s so thrilling is that there’s still so much more to discover, every day we try to go somewhere new or try something new. A new bar one night, a new store another. “Let’s check out this place I heard about,” or “let’s wander around until we find something that sounds good.”

I’m honestly not sure what I expected studying abroad to be like. This always seemed like a faraway dream that others got to do, and that no one really knew how to describe. That still holds true for me, everyday I still think to myself, I’m in France right now, I’m walking around in France. While I don’t really know what I had expected studying abroad to be like, I know that this is beyond anything I had thought. The amount of information I’m learning about the world is still amazing to me. In my class alone we have students from eleven different countries; the US, Taiwan, Ukraine, Columbia, South Korea, Russia, China, Norway, Venezuela, Syria, and Mexico. I didn’t expect to learn so much about the world and myself from this trip honestly, and I’m so glad that I decided to take this chance.

Lyon, while it’s the second largest city in France, is surprisingly not a huge tourist destination, and I’m incredibly thankful for that. The main aspect of the tourism here is Vieux Lyon (Old Lyon) which is a little bit more out of the main metropolitan area. Not having a huge tourist destination has made it a lot better for my french skills because not everyone speaks English, so I can’t take the easy way out. Also, it just makes it a lot easier to become a part of the city. I feel like I’ve begun to integrate a lot into the day to day life here, and I can make my way through the city on foot or on the metro without any incidents. I feel like I belong, and it’s weird to think that in just a couple months I will be leaving again.

If you’re thinking about studying abroad. Do it. Do your research of course, and choose your country/city carefully, but don’t overthink it. I was so close to overthinking my decision to study abroad this semester, and I’m so thankful I didn’t. You’ll discover so much about yourself you would have never dreamed of before, and get to know the world just a little bit better.

 

The Art of the Lonely Traveler

When people think of traveling everyone’s mind– my own included– wanders to the stereotypical idea that traveling is a breezy path from one city to another, in endless luxury. While it is luxurious to an extent to be privileged as I am right now to do this, it’s also dirty and exhausting and draining on both your body and mind. It’s also pretty lonely. However, there is a certain beauty in this loneliness can seem to loom over you when you’re traveling.

A lot of your time spent traveling will be alone. Maybe you decided to travel totally alone, maybe you went somewhere with a big group, but everyone had a different sight they had to see so you ventured off on your own. There are many ways to be alone while you’re traveling, and it is incredibly important to take advantage of every single one of them.

The art of being alone isn’t one that’s generally talked about a lot in today’s day and age. Social media has come about in a way to convince ourselves, that even if we are sitting alone in our room watching Netflix all day that we aren’t alone because at the push of a button we can talk to anyone we choose. It’s a beautiful feeling though when you disconnect and are alone. My phone’s service doesn’t work here in France, and although I tried to get my unlocked phone to accept a French SIM card; it just wasn’t in my cards. Everyday I am without service from the time I leave my house to the time I return, and being disconnected has allowed me to truly experience my city. So many other students in my program’s group have gotten their new SIM cards and walk around town with their heads down, nose pressed to the screen, and it makes me so sad. Please don’t mistake this as a bash on social media, because I think it is wonderful in so many ways, but I also think that while we are studying abroad it’s best to disconnect a bit. A lot of these students I see with their noses in their phone are doing it to be avoidant; to act as if they will not experience culture shock or homesickness if they are still always communicating with home, and it’s probably true, but isn’t it better to be shocked because you’re truly living a different way than to pretend it isn’t happening because you’re cutting yourself off from the experience of it all? The beauty of being alone when you’re traveling is all of the life you get to experience when you aren’t distracted.

I started off small with my loneliness here; my first couple of weeks I was very anxious still about speaking, I hadn’t made a ton of friends yet, and I was really missing home. Luckily that fear drove me to spend more time out in the city, even alone. During that time I would often find myself sitting outside of cafés; drinking coffee, eating something local, or reading… and it was so refreshing to sit for a half an hour, an hour, or even a few hours just watching and listening.

I used to hate being alone. I always wanted to be surrounded by people. But now? I relish the small bits of time that I get to spend alone. I love going on a short trip by myself, knowing that I was the one who organized it, that I was the one who was responsible for myself. The new feeling of independence I’ve gained since being here is on an entirely different level than the minor feeling I gained when I first started University even; I am somewhere totally new and foreign and for once in my life, I am totally in control of who I am and where I want to go. That is the art of being alone. That feeling of independence, in a newfound confidence in the company of just yourself. I am the only person who will constantly be in my life, and if I can’t enjoy my relationship with myself then what’s the point?

It doesn’t matter if you’re traveling or not. Take the time to enjoy your time with yourself. Read a book, or go for a walk. Go on a date with yourself, get to know who you are. Take the time to be silent and reflect. In our growing world of being global and connected through the internet or the exceedingly available modes of travel; it’s still a good idea to disconnect from it all and just… be alone.

Vienne

Just a short train-ride away from Lyon, Vienne is a super cute town full of ruins and other little surprises to discover. It took my friends and I only 30 minutes by the TGV and 11 euros (roundtrip!) to spend the day in Vienne. We went off of a tip from my friend’s host mom and it did not disappoint.

We arrived pretty early in the morning, but it was right on time to stumble upon the Saturday market in Vienne where, bien sûr, we had to stop and do some shopping! After getting some breakfast first, we made our way through the market, stopping to try on jackets, dresses, berets… anything that caught our eye really. (Yes berets! Two of my friends bought berets that the man swore were “just like the Paris girls wore,” but hey, there were super cute on them, so I think it’s okay to be a cliché tourist sometimes!)

Next we decided it was time to find some ruins. My friend’s host mom hadn’t totally specified where to go for them, so it seemed the best option to just start walking until we found a sign or something to lead us in the right direction. What we found wasn’t exactly a sign, but we figured it was as good as a sign– atop the small hill near us we saw a giant old castle. So naturally, we start heading up the nearest path going up we could find, assuming we would see a path in the direction of this castle (We later found out it was called Mont Salomon.)

We walked for 30 minutes along this rode winding up without and luck at all, until we came across an old man in a bright orange vest. In our still slightly broken french we tried to ask him if we were heading in the right direction and he told us yes, keep going past the hospital and we will get there. (Get there we later found out actually meant back to Vienne’s city center) However, he warned us that we should all put our brightest colored clothes on because there was a wild boar hunt going on! I didn’t even realize there were wild boars in the southeast of France, so that was a very comical picture for me, imagining all of these elderly people chasing after some boar in France.

We never did actually make it to Mont Salomon, but we did find an amazing bar/restaurant called “Bar de l’hôtel de ville” where we all got a filet mignon, roasted veggies and potatoes, plus a dessert of our choice (between an apple tart with vanilla ice cream or a crème brûlée for only 13 euros. And it was a big serving, and tasted incredible. I would go back to Vienne just to eat here again. While we were eating here it started absolutely pouring outside, and we were braving up to head into the rain when the bartender (he and his friend had been spending the time joking with us and flirting with some of my friends) stopped us and asked us if we all wanted a drink to warm us up before venturing out into the rain. Hesitating at first, we each started to decline, until he said the words “From the house,” and after that we were all in agreement. Every person in the bar (the two bartenders, the cook, our party of seven, and another party of three that was joking around with the bartenders about us) got a shot of Jack Daniels Tennessee Fire and took it at the same time. That was the best shot I’ve ever had honestly. I’m not a fireball fan, but this was just the right amount of cinnamon and went down so smooth.

After that we were definitely feeling warmer so we ventured back out to find some museums. We happened across one ruin on our way to the museums, an old roman temple that was closed to the public but absolutely beautiful, and in remarkable condition. We only had time left in our day to go to two museums. “Le Musée des Beaux-arts, et L’amphithéâtre Romain. I am constantly stunned by all of the beauty I have the incredible privilege to see everyday while I’m here in France, whether it’s in Lyon, or somewhere else I’m visiting… it truly takes my breath away and reminds me how lucky I am to have this opportunity.

I know that I am so incredibly blessed to have the opportunity to sit here, writing this blog post for my Education Abroad Independent Study Program, and I don’t want to waste my time here. Of course I’ve been hit by a lot of small instances of culture shock here and there, and there are quite a few people I miss terribly, but this is an opportunity that only 3% of students in our nation have the chance to do, and I’m so thankful for my time here.

The rest of our trip in Vienne went smooth and I returned to my host family’s house pleasantly exhausted, and truly feeling at peace for the first time in a few months.

Syllabus: Travel Writing in Lyon

Today marks my 27th day here in Lyon, but it’s only the first day of classes back home at Western Washington University. Because I haven’t totally disclosed what all I have planned for this blog I figured this being my first official day for my ISP (Independent Study Program) I should post my syllabus!

• Week 1 (9/27): Syllabus Post on Blog on Wednesday
• Week 2 (10/2 & 10/4): Pico Iyer The Global Soul pp 1-77 (The Burning House/The Airport) Analysis post on Monday & Personal Post on Wednesday 
• Week 3 (10/9 & 10/11): Pico Iyer The Global Soul pp 78-171 (The Global Marketplace/The Multiculture) Analysis post on Monday & Personal post on Wednesday
• Week 4 (10/16 & 10/18): Pico Iyer The Global Soul pp 172-298 (The Games/The Empire/The Alien Home) Analysis post on Monday & Personal post on Wednesday
• Week 5 (10/23 & 10/25): National Geographic Travel: “This is Tourism in the Occupied Palestinian Territories”/”Meet the Men who Literally Dance with Scissors” Analysis post on Monday & Personal post on Wednesday
• Week 6 (10/30 & 11/1): Paul Theroux The Great Railway Bazaar pp 1-124 (ch 1-10) Analysis post on Monday & Personal post on Wednesday
• Week 7 (11/6 & 11/8): Paul Theroux The Great Railway Bazaar pp 124-212 (ch 11-20) Analysis post on Monday & Personal post on Wednesday
• Week 8 (11/13 & 11/15): Paul Theroux The Great Railway Bazaar pp 212-342 (ch 21-30) Analysis post on Monday & Personal post on Wednesday
• Week 9 (11/20 & 11/23): The Poor Traveler “10 FREE Things to Do in Taipei” Nomadic Matt “How to Backpack Europe: My Step-By-Step Guide” Analysis post on Monday & Personal post on Wednesday 
• Week 10 (11/27 & 11/29): Pico Iyer Falling Off the Map pp 1-83 (ch 1-5) Analysis post on Monday & Personal post on Wednesday
• Week 11 (12/4 & 12/6): Pico Iyer Falling Off the Map pp 84-190 (ch 6-9) Analysis post on Monday & Personal post on Wednesday
• Finals Week (12/11): Self Eval Due 5pm PST

My weeks will be pretty busy between my classes here and my ISP but this will help ensure that my posts are way more frequent (no month long wait in between like there has been so far!) 

I’m excited to delve into this subject with all of you guys who are following along! Leave a comment of some of your favorite travel writers/blogs and I’d love to check them out!

 

Settling In

Today marks my third day officially living in Lyon, and my fourth day since leaving the United States; and let me tell you, it has been a rocky first few days. I’ve gotten lost, had to walk through dark places alone, had issues communicating, and gotten locked out. However, there’s also been many more good times to overshadow these troubles, so you could say it’s been a roller coaster journey thus far.

Fresh off the plane, (after 16 hours of travel) I received an email from my advisers with instructions for getting to La Statue de Saint Exupéry à Place Bellecour, where I was supposed to meet my host family for the first time in a few hours. With four hours on my hands I decided to give public transit a shot. The instructions seemed fairly clear to me, so having navigated the Portland public transit a lot I thought I could handle it. Of course I was wrong.

I got onto the Rhone Express, and settled in for my ride. The sign said that “Vaux-En-Velin La Soie” was the next stop, however, when I got off at the next place it stopped, it wasn’t Vaux-En-Velin La Soie at all. In fact I had no idea where I was, and because I didn’t have service I couldn’t really figure it out. So I went to my next best option; I got back on the Rhone Express heading the opposite direction, back to the airport. At this point I had already wasted forty minutes, and public transit just seemed daunting to me, so I had to walk all the way back to the airport entrance and hail a taxi.

When I finally get a taxi, I learned that my driver doesn’t speak a lot of English, and at this point my French is really bad. I can understand him really well, but actually forming words seemed impossible besides very minor phrases. But, I at least remembered the phrase I had to tell him for the ride, so I said, “Place Bellecour, s’il vous plaît, à la statue de Saint Exupéry.” He responded, “Ça n’existe pas.” Wait, what? He went on to say that the only statue in Place Bellecour is the statue of Louis xiv, so he ended up taking me there instead, thinking that my professors must have been mistaken about the statue they meant.

So here I was, alone in a foreign country, at a statue that wasn’t the one I needed, lugging around a huge check bag, and to top it off, I didn’t have wifi or service of any kind on my phone. However, the shining light was that I spotted a café that was described in my arrival guide from my professors that was supposed to be next to the statue of Saint Exupéry. “Café Bellecour.” Working from there I actually found the correct statue and my heart rate immediately slowed again. Feeling more confident, I stopped at Café Bellecour and got une salade verte; jambon et parmesan, which was delicious; and set out for the statue to meet my host family.

My host family is a very nice family, and their house is absolutely gorgeous. My room is cozy, and I even have my own shower. There’s a minor language barrier still as I work to improve my speaking French, but everyday it has gotten easier.

Yesterday I had orientation and I met a lot of really wonderful people. Last night a few friends and I decided to go out and drink a bit on the Rhone river and it was the party central for all of the local Lyonnais. The second the first drop of rain hit everyone simply moved under the cover of the bridge. There was laughing and shouting, and it was a ton of fun. We learned that it is “not possible” (imagine a thick French accent) to enter a completely abandoned night club at 11:30 if one of your friends is in joggers, and that Le Prado, for all of it’s faults, is simply Le Prado; and that makes it the best apartment building ever for the students– according to the students living there.

But it got late, 2:20 in fact, and we knew it was time to leave Le Prado and head home. I didn’t want to risk the 40 minute walk, so instead I opted for an uber, which was actually really inexpensive. The cost was only 20 euros after the price flux for popular hours. However, that came with its own problems. My driver’s map took me to the street above my host family’s apartment, instead of the street where the front door is located, but he wouldn’t take me around to the front, so he dropped me off up there with instructions about a path in a park. Trying not to freak out because it was 2:45 and very dark, I start walking around to find this park. I do find it, and an unlit path winding down the hill that we were on. I risked taking out my phone for a flashlight and made my way down. I got through it completely without incident and found my apartment and used the code to get into the building. Then though, I couldn’t figure out how to open the door! I had turned the key every way I could possibly think of to no avail. It took me literally a half hour just to get into the apartment, and after that I just wanted to detox and relax. The good thing about being up at 3:30 am here was that it was only 6:30 pm back home, so after a calming video chat with my boyfriend, I went to sleep.

I love Lyon so far. It’s quiet, beautiful, and also magical in its own way. I’m excited to start my classes, and my university is like it’s own little multiverse of other French learners. Each day I feel more confident about my French abilities, and even though I still have a ways to go until I can have a conversation without asking for them to repeat themselves, I know I’ll get there eventually.

 

The Pre-Trip Jitters Strike

Hey guys!

I figured I would start this blog out now with one of my certificate posts, and a sort of introduction more than what you can find in the about.

My name is Brenna, and this fall I will be entering into my second year at Western Washington University. My current plans (as we all know how finicky these things can be to finalize) are to double major in French on the main campus at Western, and Cultural/Travel Play-writing (still working out all the technicalities of it right now) at Fairhaven College of Interdisciplinary Studies, which is a small college that is a part of Western.

During this past year I was completing my fifth year of French language courses. I had already taken four years in high school you see, and after high school I just knew that my continued education path had to include the language. I had fallen in love with it. So between the prospect of my sixth consecutive year of studying French and trying to figure out how to work Traveling/Cultural Exploration into Play-writing; I decided it was time to consider studying abroad. Which led me to the Lyon, France program through University Studies Abroad Consortium aka USAC.

One thing led to another and I was accepted and beyond excited to work out the specifics of my Independent Study Program (ISP) for this very blog, and even more-so, to get to move to France.

Now we are T-minus 30 days, 9 hours, 58 minutes and 10 seconds (yes of course I have a countdown app installed on my phone, are you kidding?!) until I take off, and honestly the nerves are starting to kick in. Of course I’m beyond thrilled to have this incredible opportunity to live in a new country and experience a new culture first-hand, but there’s that little bubble of silly doubt too. What if no one will want to speak French with me, and my language skills don’t really improve? What if something goes wrong with my flights and I don’t get there on time? What if I don’t like escargot? Okay… that last one is only slightly real, I’m still deciding if I’m brave enough to try it. But I know that all of these worries will diminish when I get there, I meet my host family, and I start my classes. Because that’s what this is all about, putting yourself out there, and being brave enough to take on these doubts and experience the world. I’ve done the research on local customs, I’ve taken precautions, I’ve asked for help when I need it. And now? Now it’s time to go out and live. Well… in 30 days, 9 hours, 50 minutes and 34 seconds it will be anyways.