Should've turned around

"There is no passion to be found in settling for a life that is less than the one you are capable of living." -Nelson Mandela

You know those nights when at more than one point you stop and think, "why am I still here?" Yeah. Friday was that night for me. Oh, the day started off nice enough. I went on a run, went on an adventure with my friend, and bid adieu to my roommates Theresa and Sam as they went to Amsterdam for the weekend. After eating and getting ready for the night, me and my only remaining roommate, Lindsay, met up with Jen and Alyssa and we headed to our friend Raul's birthday party. That was a chill, fun time, but the adventure really started after that. We had paid 15 euros to go to this big Villa party hosted by our school. A little history- Skema parties have a tendency to produce bad things- whether it be people passing out and throwing up everywhere or just other weird things, so I've stayed away. I was assured though, that this was THE school party of the year and so I shouldn't miss it. And since I've started living by the phrase, YOLO, while here in France, I figured hey. Why not. Let's go out to this Villa party and hang out with my friends. Dance a little, ya know. Have fun. 

The first indication I had that this party was probably not going to be that greatly organized was when we ended up waiting an additional 40 minutes for the bus to pick us up from Place de Gualle to take us to the Villa. Cold, we loaded the bus, only to pick up a hoard of Skema students one stop later. France is known as the land of smokers. Literally, everyone smokes. I walk up to school and am greeted at all hours of the day by a cloud of smoke and at least 10 people huddled around outside smoking together. I thought busses were sacred. Nope. People were smoking cigarettes like they might never get another chance again... for the love. We were on a bus. I'll be surprised if I don't get lung cancer from all the second hand smoke. As Jen and I looked at each other as we sat on the bus we just shook our heads and said "what have we gotten ourselves into?" The bus finally pulls up to what we THINK is the Villa, and as we get off, we see that nope. In fact, we've simply been dumped on the side of a road... so that was comforting. A shady white van pulls up- the type your mom always told you to stay away from- and immediately kids start getting shoved inside. I managed to avoid getting kidnapped into this shuttle van and stuck with Jen as we watched the van ride away, swaying from side to side because of all the kids packed inside. I wasn't sad to watch it pull away without us inside.

What I was sad about was the 30 minute wait that followed, along with the news that the load in front of us had broken the door off the van so it couldn't be used. "It's not a long walk" we were told... so 30 minutes later after a winding walk through the mansions of France, we arrived at the Villa. When I said Villa party, you thought a huge place with a DJ downstairs, and rooms where you could sit or dance, right? Yeah. Me too. No, the Villa party was just on the lawn of a Villa. Okay, so it's 30 degrees out, but whatever. There were a lot of people so the body heat thing helped. Had to go to the bathroom though? Oh sorry. No, there wasn't one. So just go pick a spot in the woods surrounding the Villa that looked particularly welcoming and pop a squat there... I have been blessed with a bladder of steel and the fact I wasn't drinking helped a lot towards me not having to risk my life walking through the woods. 

We danced, my friends drank, people made out, it was a typical party. I managed to meet some new people, have a decent time until Mr. McDrunkerson walked by. The "ouch he stepped on my foot" but really it was like, part of your toe and the hurt goes away in a minute was not the type of "he stepped on my foot" I'm talking about. I'm talking, full weight (and no, he wasn't the typical skinny frenchman you might be picturing) heel digging in, stumbled past me stepped on my foot. And I have the swollen foot to prove it, 3 days later. Maybe it wouldn't have been in such a state, but having a few other people stumble over said foot didn't help it's case. In pain, cold, and slightly over the shenanigans that was the Villa party, I wanted to go home. Shuttles left at 3:30 and 4:30, so if you missed those, looks like you were up a creek without a paddle. Or in this case, up a mountain without a ride. We walked outside only to discover the shuttle left for the 3:30 bus so we'd have to wait until the next one at 4:20. We killed time, I witnessed a killer dance battle, and then we hit the road. As we waited for the shuttle and it become more and more apparent we might have to walk again, we all bit our protests and just hoofed it down to the bus. I will say, I've never been more happy to see Place de Gaulle then I did when the bus pulled up to let us off. 5 a.m., and I was finally home. 

Multiple times during the night I kept thinking, "why the heck am I here?" Which was a good question. The more I go out to these parties or events, the more I realize that it's not me. And I'm perfectly okay with that. I enjoy a good dance sesh like everyone else- in fact I'm all for going to a dance club. But the whole, drink your face off until you don't remember who you are or what town you live in, is not my scene. That's one thing I've enjoyed about being here though. I've really started to realize who I am, and have started to be true to that. I may not be the life of the party, but I think I have a good time sitting around with my friends playing Spades, watching cheesy movies, looking at the stars or just having random adventures. I can pretend to be someone I'm not, or I can embrace who I am. I love this quote by Mandela. Yeah I could be that girl that goes wild. But that's not living the life I'm capable of living. Why settle for a cheap substitute when I can be the real thing? I wanna remember my nights, make memories, and look back fondly on the time I spent here. I know I'll come home changed. I can already feel the subtle differences of who I was coming here and who I'll leave as. But I think it's for the better. I know where I stand. I've been "put through the fire" if you will, and I think I've come out refined. Yah, I have a month left, but at this point. I'm fine being who I am. Who knew you could discover all of this from a swollen foot? Maybe I should get hurt more often... :) Anyway, I hope you all take comfort in knowing that you too can live a life that is so much more than you may settle for. I don't want to settle. Not here in France, home in Fayetteville or wherever else God might call me. For him and to him be the glory, forever and ever, Amen!

Jackie

Barca and beyond

"It's not what you look at that matters, it's what you see." - Henry David Thoreau

I recently spent a great weekend in Barcelona. The weather was gorgeous, the people were lively, the culture was vibrant, and the food was amazing. I enjoyed every second exploring the Sagarda Familia, Parc Guell, Gothic quarter, the beach, and walking down the main street, the Ramblas. We tried the most amazing food while we were there- even waited 2 hours in the line for Bo-D-B's, this amazing sandwich shop. Totally worth the wait. Although I could've done without the group of American girls behind us who were trying to cut and order in front of us... they should've gone home, as my friend Jen likes to say.

One of the best parts of the weekend was it was Maria's birthday, and we got to spend it together in Spain! How legit is that. :) The friends that travel together, stay together ya know?

Definitely one for the books. Since coming home it's been a whirlwind of school and reality, and most recently, partying it up for St. Patrick's day. Apparently I live under a rock, because I was not aware how huge St. Patrick's day was in the US, let alone in Europe. Apparently the US does it bigger though... ironic. Either way, after a nice lunch at the Blue Lady Pub with Michaela and Alyssa, we ended up making dinner later that night- green soup and some mint and pistachio ice cream thing for dessert... it was great. Then we trekked over to Morrison's Pub in Cannes, a popular sport in general, even more so on St. Patty's day. They even shut down the street so the party could spill outside of the pub. I tried Kilkenny, some Irish beer that was equivalent to Guinness in color, and taste. Needless to say, I didn't even finish one. I'm beginning to realize I may be more of a Vanilla Dr. Pepper, Lemonade girl than a beer, wine drinker. But hey, think of all the calories and money I'll save! Either way, it was a fun experience- there was a live band, a DJ and so we just had a good time in our free hats- as seen below. :)

(from left to right, Alyssa, Michaela and me!) 

We finally made it home after an hour in the rain trying to hail a cab... it was a Sunday night to be fair but we were mildly angry by the time one finally came. Either way, we made it home, and it was a good story to tell. This whole experience of being in Europe has really opened my eyes to new cultures and new people. I love every minute of the time I get to spend here, the things I get to do, and the places I get to visit. Just the other day I was running and I came across this beautiful scene...

Breathtaking. The contrast of the clouds as a storm rolled in, with the beautiful sunlight hitting the blue water- it truly stopped me in my tracks. It looks fake, and I can't believe that's my reality. But I don't stop and enjoy it enough! It's like the quote says. It's not what I look at every day, it's what I truly see. As my time here in France starts winding to a close, I don't wanna merely look at France, I want to SEE. I want to see the ocean as new every day. I want to see my school as an opportunity to learn and grow. I want to see my friends as the blessings they are. I don't want to leave and close my eyes and not remember the little things. Those are the things that add up to the best memories. The best stories, and the sweetest times. I am so blessed, and I hope that we will all remember that no matter where we are, it's a choice to look, but it's also a choice to see. 

Bon Soir!

Jackie

We Be Killing Em

"People generally see what they look for and hear what they listen for."

 - To Kill a Mockingbird

Well, I survived Spring Break 2013. There were moments I wasn't sure I would ever see the beautiful beaches of Antibes ever again (not really, I'm just being dramatic mom and dad...), but we made it! Alyssa, Jen and I set out for our adventure at 3 in the morning thanks to an early morning flight and no busses running after 3 am. And a 60 Euro cab to start spring break was not in the cards for these guys. I'm happy to say all the plane rides were uneventful and went off without a hitch. Better than can be said with the trains in Paris.

First stop? The city of love. I admit. I went in hopes high and wide eyed like a child waiting for Christmas morning. But like a kid who finds only charcoal in his stocking, I left brokenhearted. Well, not really. But It wasn't all that I dreamed about and more, that's for sure. I saw the Eiffel Tower, the Louvre, the Love Lock Bridge, L'arc de Triomphe, Notre Dame, Sacre Couer and the Moulin Rouge. I feel like I saw all the high points of France. I ate a crepe. I went to a club where all the college kids hang out. I rode the metro. Things went south during our time in Paris when we decided it'd be a great idea to go to Versailles. After Jen and I witness Alyssa and her friends April and the other Jen (Jen 2) miss the train by getting smashed into the door, we manage to make it to the correct platform. After a great tour of Versailles, we head back, and as I stand on the platform waving goodbye to Jen, Jen 2, Alyssa and April I realize this isn't supposed to be a scene from some war movie where I stand on the dock and send my lover off on the ship... I was supposed to be on that train too- unfortunately I tend to be slower than others apparently. I did however, get on the right train. My friends had to get off of the one they got on and get on mine- in the end I was justified.

That night, while getting crepes, we got chased by an old man. I mean, literally followed around the block by him, and we ducked into a bar to get away. Not my favorite memory. Then, on our way home from a club, we manage to almost get locked out of the subway, get chased up some never-ending staircase by a crazy lady, and then get chased, full sprint, down the street by a man selling roses. Paris did not treat us well. I was never more excited than when I was walking 30 minutes in the freezing rain and snow to catch a shuttle bus to the airport. 

Budapest on the other hand was amazing. We had dinner with a family I knew from Little Rock and they showed us the city at night. It was amazing to see, and the fact it wasn't snowing, and we made it back to our hostel without being chased made the night a win in our books. Budapest is a magical city- one mostly undiscovered by tourists. It's small- we managed to walk almost everywhere we wanted to go, and it's charming. The bridges connecting Buda and Pest (now Budapest, but it used to be a divided city) are gorgeous, with views of both sides and of the Danube. We spent the three days there wandering around the market, walking across the bridges, and exploring the city. The coolest thing I think we saw was the Jewish shoes memorial. On the bank of the Danube, near the Parliament building is a bunch of shoes all lined up. Here's a picture. 

As I stood there, I saw the beauty of the city on the other side and the brown water of the Danube beneath me and for a moment I imagined what it would've been like. Jews, lined up, executed so that no burial would be necessary. The weight of what humanity can do to each other sits heavy on my heart. What might they have been thinking as they looked either into the eyes of their killers, or looking as such beauty on the opposite bank. It's something that breaks your heart. 

After Budapest, we flew to Rome, spent a whirlwind few hours seeing the Trevi Fountain, Colosseum, Pantheon and Spanish Steps. Of course, no tour of Italy would be complete without gelato, cannoli's, pasta and pizza. At 2:30 we boarded a bus, drove ten hours with an old man hacking up his lungs in the back of the bus, and a little boy throwing up next to me and Alyssa, and were finally home in Antibes. I've never been happier to walk through the doors of my own home. Spring Break was a blast, a time I'll never forget, and I know that the random stories from break will continue to come out little by little. But until then, I'm tired of typing... and I think you're probably tired of reading! 

Bon nuit!

Jackie