Updating you on my life, from Brussels!
5 novembre 2010
So Many Updates!
I’m sitting in the Lille Europe train station right now waiting to board my train to Brussels, and I realized that I haven’t updated my blog in several weeks now, so you might be wondering what I’ve been up to! Prepare yourself for a long blog. I promise you it’s thoughtful though, not just pure regurgitation of events.
After the Amsterdam Marathon and the height of the glorious strikes (the vote in the French Parliament for retirement reform already happened, and since the weather is getting shitty I think the French have finally let up and decided to go back to work) my life has been pretty mundane. Suffice it to say that I have been living life like a normal Nantais—waking up, going to school, going running, studying, eat dinner, sleep; rinse, repeat. I had a block of days where all I had were midterms, so that was like hell (studying International Economics in French. BLECH.) I have to say that my experience has improved a lot since my first month. Though some of the negatives that I experienced are still present, in general I’ve grown pretty content with being here. Like any culture, I think we all will have our complaints and the things we miss about our own kind, but I think I can finally say I’ve adapted. My French has gotten significantly faster, I’ve been able to stay in shape since I’ve left the states (I’ve been running significantly faster also), I can navigate train stations like a pro, and I can even give French people directions when they’re visiting from out of Nantes! It’s crazy.
I didn’t get to really talk about the marathon much, but that was the best experience of my life. High of 49 degrees, windchill of 44, clear sunny blue skies. I got to see Amsterdam in a unique, special way that most people don’t experience. I saw everything from the neighborhoods, the city center, the furthest outreaches of the city—factories, farms, windmills, countryside vacation homes—the whole nine yards. The race itself had an incredibly humane element behind it all. All these people—roughly 20,000 with 12,000 doing the full 42km—coming to one place to suffer together for glory. Around the 38th kilometer, things starting going downhill for me. The windchill attacked my knees brutally, and my joints experienced so much pain. It was strange how quickly the pain crept up, and even more strange? Seeing built, ripped alpha males struggling beside me. Russian, Dutch, German, French, British, American, Japanese, African—walking, stopping to stretch, crying, puking, asking for ambulances, fainting. And more amazing? Other than the people who legitimately had to get taken away by ambulances, everyone continued to trudge along, together. There was one point where I was in so much pain I had to stop and stretch for a good 30 seconds (which is a ridiculously long time in a race) and all of a sudden I felt this hand on my shoulder. The man, who had a serious Dutch accent but spoke English fluently, pushed me along—“Come on! You can do it, push through the pain, let’s go together!” And off we went. Another point along the way, around the 40km, a father and son team, who looked INCREDIBLY built were walking, laughing, chatting. I stopped and was walking next to them when they struck up a conversation with me. Clearly noticing me wincing in discomfort and doing leg stretches while I was walking, they joked with me to make me smile. In a thick Italian accent—“Don’t worry, beautiful. We’re all practically there! We are all going to get shiny medals and afterwards we will drink and celebrate like kings and queens. We are basically winners already!” Thank you, Italian stallions haha. Crossing the finish line at Olympic Stadium was the biggest rush. All the people in the stands, cheering and screaming. For one moment, I got to see what it’s like to be an Olympian. It was incredible. I’ll never forget that moment. I think that memory was great too because I simply FINISHED! I got teary before I crossed the finish line. All the months of training, imagining what it would all be like and in a moment it was over. It felt so amazing to have my childhood best friend, Jessie, there too. I cried when I saw her—she has been there for me for so many things, and we have experienced some of the biggest traveling experiences together. Performing at the Fringe Festival in Scotland, now Amsterdam—she is my voice of optimism and reason when I get stressed out. She’s the best person to travel with, her optimism is absolutely unwavering. Even when I was stressed beyond compare as a result of the Belgium and French strikes and my train home was cancelled, she was patient with my fieriness, and she made me laugh in the times I needed it most. She encouraged me on the entire weekend. I love her dearly.
There’s something really rewarding about being able to go somewhere completely strange to you and still feeling comfortable finding your way around. Lille is an example; I’m here en route to Brussels and when I stepped out of the train station, I had a really strange exhilarating feeling I haven’t felt in a long time. Amsterdam gave me the same feeling, but it may have been slightly overshadowed because I was mentally focused on just the marathon. Lille isn’t anything spectacular per se; granted, it’s dark right now and I can hardly see the actual cityscape (thank you Daylight Savings) but the city lights, the glass buildings, the commerce center, the smell of fresh rain…it felt really good. I love the hustle and bustle of the train stations in France; the clicking sound of the departures and arrivals sign gives me such a strange adrenaline rush! There’s something strange about the train station actually, because I love to travel but airports don’t give me the same vibe at all. Airports stress me out more than train stations, and I also think I have less patience with people in airports (seriously people—why are you still trying to bring on filled water bottles on the plane? Where have you been since 9/11?)
I’m taking a French Writers and Foreign Nations literature class at the institute, and it is probably my favorite class. It certainly is the most relatable; all of the works we are reading are French classics, and they’re all by French writers who have traveled to foreign nations and wrote about their experiences. While most of their experiences pertain to times as far back as the colonial period, I still think to Chateaubriand, Tocqueville, Céline, and Troyat when I travel. How descriptive they were with their five senses as they visited their respective places. I think it is this class that makes me appreciate France and my European experiences, actually. I keep those guys in mind every time I step off a train. Although, I really can’t stand Céline because he was an emo, cynical, anti-Semitic, I-detest-the-world type so…we can cut him out of the picture.
6 novembre 2010
I’m really excited for Brussels, because I’m going to the Connecting Social Innovation 10 (cosi10) Conference, hosted by Hub Brussels. 30 people invited from all over the world, mainly Europe and Africa, meeting to discuss, collaborate, and innovate new social ventures. I can’t say enough how privileged I feel for this semester. I was really concerned that I would lose my start-up grip as a result of my necessity to focus on only school. But while I have lived my life as a student in Nantes, different opportunities have presented themselves to me while I’ve been here that I haven’t expected, and I just feel so thankful. I certainly feel like the most privileged 21 year old in the world right now; my bank account is suffocating thanks to the Euro, but in the same regard, I just don’t care. Opportunities, opportunities, opportunities. That’s what it’s about. Hunger for success might make me go hungry now, but I’ll sleep when I’m dead.
Love The Hub-communal work places are absolutely inspiring, and creates so much energy.
Check out the giant cardboard art piece on their ceiling.
Very cool photography on their walls.
Chalkboard walls. LOVE THIS! Will do this to my future home.
