The rest of study abroad

Pretty uneventful really. I had to research the bureaucratic structure of Aikido in France, which is possible the most boring topic in human history. Fortunately, I was able to take Aikido classes with an awesome Greco-Malagasy man, Gaston Nicolessi. The paper (in French) was due on the same day as the presentation (in French). I only finished the paper at midnight the night before it was due, and had to totally BS a presentation at 8am the next morning. I got away with it by incorporating a lot of technique and not doing all that much talking.

After that, all the students from the language class got to go to Collioure, a sea side resort only a few miles from Spain. While there we took a hike along the Spanish border in the Pyrenean Mountains. At the end of the hike, I ditched the group and walked to Portbou in Spain. I got lost in a stream bed surrounded by millions of thorny plants. After escaping and nearly shredding my clothes, I ended up on the wrong side of a quarry. Rather than going back, I climbed into it and eventually worked my way to an industrial train station that stood between me and the town. I eventually found a tunnel (for cars and with no pedestrian shoulder) that went all the way under to the other side. Once there, I bought a ticket and came back.

Once back, I went with my home stay mom and two of the kids to visit her grandparents in the country. It was surprisingly fun, and they REALLY seemed to take to the fact that I am part Greek. The Grandmother even called me “The Greek”, kinda funny really. After that, I spent an awkward last few days with the family and then left for Paris. The hostel there was a piece of crap, so I spent as much time as possible sight seeing. It was hard to avoid the restaurants and cafes of Paris, but I was pretty much out of money, so I lived off of the grocery stores. I got to see a bunch of great sights, but most importantly, my home stay dad from Dschang was there, and I got to hang out with him and his brother-in-law for the afternoon.

I then took the Chunnel to London, and was promptly kicked “aux couilles” by the exchange rate. London was immensely uneventful. I stayed in a hellish Easyhotel and spent everyday but Sunday at the archives taking pictures of war crimes related stuff.
The hotel room was hellish because it had no window, no phone, a non-functioning TV, and was about the size of a bathroom (if you think I’m kidding, try staying in one).

My last adventure was coming home. I took the Chunnel back to Paris for a flight to NYC, but there was a train workers strike against President Sarkozy. All of the trains were stopped except for one (and only one) that was going to the airport. Unfortunately, the train was on a different track from the normal airport service and they were only announcing the change in French. I can barely understand train station announcement in English, so I consider myself to have been very lucky to catch which track I needed to go to. I had literally just stepped onto the train before the doors closed and we were off.

At the airport, I found out that the flight was overbooked and the not everyone would be able to go, at least not that night. Fortunately, I wasn’t someone asked to wait, and 7 hours later I was in NYC. It was then that I discovered the Air France had LOST MY LUGGAGE!!! Yup, they lost pretty much all my clothes and my second digital camera (I lost the first one getting out of Cameroun). I know many lost luggage stories have happy ending, here’s mine: In Cameroun, I lost about 20 pounds, so none of my clothes fit me anymore anyway. As long as Air France cuts me a nice fat check for everything, I’ll be happy.

Well, that’s about it. There and back again, a Humanities Student’s Holiday.