Gobble, gobble.

Date: Thu, 23 Nov 2006

Coucou! (pronounced "coo coo" - affectionate term for "hello" in French used for family
and friends). Appropriate that this is a bird sound considering what day this is for you back in the US…

Happy Thanksgiving.

While you are all feasting on your turkey and stuffing or gorging yourself with cranberry sauce and sweet potatoes with marshmellows, I.... I will be sleeping. It will be middle of the morning here. But while you are enjoying the time of 2:30 PM, I will be having dinner in the Eiffel Tower. Yes, that’s right. I’ll be eating among the iron patchwork of my good friend Gustav’s creation. Not bad, eh? My program has arranged a group dinner at yonder tower and, well, I'm taking the opportunity to don satin (the dress is actually satin-like polyester I think...) and silver and enjoy myself in a restaurant that I will likely never eat in again. Evidently, this is the first year the programsi going to such great heights (literally – we’ll be on the 2nd level of the tower
) for Thanksgiving. " Autrefois" (in the past), they evidently tried to have a real Thanksgiving type meal, but the French interpretation of Thanksgiving food was not your usual breadcrumb stuffing. When things are "farci" (stuffed) in France, take your turkey for example, they are always stuffed with beef. So, beef stuffed turkey and "you call this cranberry sauce?" or Eiffel tower dinner? Hard choice? No. Gustav, here we come.

Last Thursday I went to my first Erasmus "soiree". Erasmus is Europe’s exchange program, and every Thursday they rent out a club and all international students can go dance like its 1973 for free. Turns out these soirees are a really good place not just to dance and enjoy the pleasure of fending of hoards of groping, clubbing men, but also to meet people should you so desire. Meeting people, that is, like the suave Bertrand who held his hand out to me from across the dance floor, and though he didn’t break out with a smashing rendition of “One Enchanted Evening”, looked at me in the very sensual French way that said: “Ah madamoiselle… ‘ow wooold you like to dansssse wiz moi?” “Well , yes, oui, very much,” I responded in my American eye Morse code, batting my eyelashes like Sammy Sosa. And then I laughed like the chef in The Little Mermaid, “He he he, haw haw haw.”

Saturday late afternoon, I went to a salsa class run by the gym I belong to. It was about 30 minutes, but was a beginner class and was definitely worth it. Previously, the only salsa I knew was tomato based, came in Mild, Medium or Spicy and went quite well with tortilla chips. The last class I tried going to (did I mention that I tried a dance class already?) was way over my head. I felt like I'd jumped into the deep end and forgotten my bright yellow swimmies.

I'm stilling trying to figure out my winter break plans... Seems like a majority of the yearly students here are going home to the US or having the US (read family/friends) come to them. Me? I’m gonna go somewhere, see something, be someone. On second thought, lets leave the be someone for later. Either way, I really don't want to travel alone for such a long time, so hopefully I'll figure something out.

So gobble gobble up on delicious home cooking for me tonight, let me know what's going on in your lives in you have time, and have a Happy Cranberry Sauce Day! (I bet those cranberries feel under-appreciated when people say Turkey Day.)

A bientot!
Hannah