My poor feet.

I must treat my feet really nicely over the next 24 hours - because they've been incredibly good to me today. After trekking (tramway-riding) for about 30 minutes to the Lyon 2 campus in the suburb of Bron, I found out that they've never had a Lyon 3 exchange student take cinema courses with them. It made me upset because, had I known that Lyon 2 had a film program, I would certainly have decided to do my exchange there. Anyhow, Lyon 3 people seem cooler somehow than Lyon 2. Lyon 2 has an air of superiority about it that I'm not too keen on. But their campus on the quais (banks) of the Rhône are, admittedly, more glamorous than the converted tobacco factory that houses Lyon 3.

Unfortunately for me, one ride on the TCL (Lyon's public transportation system) costs 1.60 euros. This was unfortunate because I only had .60 at the time. I was smack dab in the middle of nowheres-ville suburbia without tram fare nor any forseeable way of getting some. I decided to walk along the tram tracks until reaching some sort of commercial establishment, which turned out to be a Chinese buffet restaurant. After learning that there was, in fact, no cash register at said Chinese restaurant, I was directed to a large store just beyond it, which turned out to be the French version of Costco. And only after waiting in line for 30 minutes did I finally get enough change to get on the tram.

Tonight, the International Relations office at Lyon 3 organized a "soirée pub" for us in Vieux Lyon. There were no actual French people there - which, for me, defeated the purpose of going out - but at least drinks were free. Something to keep in mind for the future: European clubs don't start playing the good music until about 1am.

But after over 2 hours of dancing, my feet are definitely killing me, and they are well deserving of a rest.

J'ai trop mangé hier...

...but today's a new day. After a veritable luncheon feast for a classmate's birthday, and an eating out celebration on the Rue Marroniers for dinner, cutting back today would have been an option. But not having a real meal for the whole day - not an option. I've been sitting in my room for over three hours now, wandering downstairs only once at around 8pm to see if dinner preparations were under way -- only to find the kitchen door slightly closed (which has never happened before). Unsure about whether this meant I could enter or not, I decided to work my way back to my bedroom, hoping desperately that I would run into one of the kids. I did hear their voices coming from the television room, which made me think that the parents were preparing something that they didn't want the kids mucking up. Well, about an hour and a half later, I believe I have been mistaken. They either a) forgot about me b) thought I was eating out for dinner again tonight c) had a casual refrigerator-grab free-for-all like they did at lunch at a point in time I was not aware of. None of this, however, solves my hunger problem. Merde.

"T'es une française maintenant..."

Well, according to my host father, Antoine. It was basically his way of congratulating me for getting over my jet lag. There was a very French moment during our repas this evening wherein my host brother, Ferréol, and Antoine were having an intense discussion about something I couldn't catch on to. Then, all of a sudden, Antoine turned to me and asked "Et Catherine, quelle est ta opinion?/What's your opinion?" Despite knowing that the French highly value strong opinions and furious debate, I could come up with nothing and stumbled over the sentence I've probably used most often during my stay here in Lyon: "I didn't understand very well...."

Turns out they were talking about Ramadan, since one of Ferréol's classmates is observing it, and Ferréol attends a Catholic school. This led to an elaborate discussion about how a complete understanding of France is impossible without the concept of laicité...

I also made the discovery on the way home today that I live perpendicular to the street where Antoine de Saint-Éxupery was born. The street is now named after the famed aviator/writer. At the risk of exposing how cliché my francophilie is, I must admit that Le Petit Prince is one of my favorite books of all time. That I'm living around the corner from the man who gave us this little guy:

must be a sign of good things to come.

in high company

So I definitely got a great deal living with the Pellets - apparently Anne (my host mother) is running for the presidency of MoDem of the region of Lyon. And here I was, unsure of the status of this "famille normale" was, and my host mom is off becoming the next Ségolène Royal. 

Also, I felt badly for being unable to communicate to my host dad, Antoine, that it wasn't a problem that his kids were arguing at the table tonight. My favorite (and only) host brother, Ferréol, was causing trouble with the youngest sister, Appolline. It really doesn't bother me at all, but I guess my silent reaction made Antoine feel like he should apologize, but that's just the way kids are. Anyway, the little one is pretty annoying. 

this is where i live

Just added some photos from my walk around the hood with my host bro Ferréol (he's 14 and is awesome). Click on the Photobucket link to find these and my shots from Ireland. We live in one of those buildings - he tried to point out my room, but I just smiled and nodded, not knowing what he meant...which seems to be happening more often than it should!

oh mon dieu, what have i done

After the fairytale that was my arrival yesterday, things have become hectic very quickly. We (incoming international students) had an organizational meeting at the Manufacture du Tabac building this morning and I was overwhelmingly adept at not talking to anyone. I have yet to submit my paperwork for my student ID card, my carte de séjour, to open my bank account, buy a new SIM card for my phone, ask my host parents for some documentation that I am living with them, talk to my parents...

in love with lucca

to my loyal reader(s)

i apologize for being out of touch for far too long - turns out that internet cafes can get quite expensive in tourist areas (imagine that), and when it comes to a choice between a cone of gelato and a half hour online, my sweet tooth cannot be denied.

right now i am in tuscany, and absolutely beautiful change from the southern coast. while the beaches were lovely, the countryside here is even more so. i'm resting my feet at an internet point before heading out for a full day of shopping, and the continuation of my quest for the perfect invicta backpack.

keep an eye out for a series of entries i'll start upon my return back to the states with the very original title 'what i learned on my trip to europe'.

also, i'll be leaving italy after 6 full weeks here this friday, and i'm sad to see it go -- but i'm sure that some of that delicious dublin guinness will be more than willing to raise my spirits!

a bientot