Alex Ingram '10 - (Written July 23) - With one day left in France, it´s painfully clear that I don´t have enough time to finish everything on my to do list. However, I´m sure I will be more than content on my return home, maybe even excited to return to normalcy and begin the fall semester.

I feel saturated with a whole collection of information from my trip. I´ve taken in a wealth of information ranging from French cuisine to French culture, etymology and the French economy, and much more. This experience has opened my eyes and allowed me to view a grander picture than I was able to see solely within the United States.

I´m certainly going to miss Nice once I´m back in the states, or at least some of it's characteristic qualities. To be honest, the cuisine will be the greatest loss, but certainly not the only one. Leaving my great (and eclectic) group of friends and classmates, the metropolitan life, the mediterranean, and the mystery of a completely foreign culture to return to a sense of normalcy will be rough. But, of course, it will be nice to have the conveniences of home, and some regional American food, waiting on my return.

More importantly, though, I feel that this trip, which I expected to feel like a psuedo-vacation, was one of the most rigorous mental exercises I´ve experienced. When you´re forced to grind your gears just to communicate the most basic of concept, or to pick up on the conversations carrying on in, say, Spanish or Italian, you can´t ever turn off your mind or zone out until it's time to sleep. It's even become fairly difficult for me to communicate as well as I'd like in this blog because such a relatively small portion of my day is spent speaking or listening to English.

The week has been amazing though, and relaxing, of course, even as much as I complain about how hard I´m working to just communicate or comprehend anything. I've found a secluded beach under a rocky coast about 100 feet tall that is perfect for snorkeling with school´s of fish completely unafraid (or unaware) that I´m even around. The snorkel set, which I bought about two blocks from my house, was probably some of the best spent money this whole trip. I can say with a good degree of confidence that my last afternoon will most likely be spent snorkeling on the coast.

For my last night here, we´ve planned to go back to the family-style all-you-can-eat mussels restaurant at the port, which I´m beyond excited for. The rest of the evening will most likely be spent wandering aimlessly around the town for gelato and espresso and, admittedly, some touristy shops for me to buy the rest of my souvenirs. We are also tentatively planning on taking a trip to the observatory in the alps that is just outside of the Nice city limit, which should of course provde some outstanding pictures for my last night in south of France.

All in all, I don´t know that I´ll ever have the chance to do something like this again, and I'm so grateful for the opportunity. In one month, I was able to celebrate (for lack of any better term) Bastille Day, watch the Tour de France from arm's length, go to the Casino at Monte Carlo, ride in a Lotus FX, travel to Italy and all over the south of France, eat some of the best food I´ve had in my life, and even expand my already-holistic view of general wellness and nutrition, all because I have been completely immersed in this place for the past month.

And I´m just as thankful for every nuanced experience of the trip as well; the small conversations, the street food, the new friends, everything. It´s unfortunate that the trip is over, but I can at least return home having gained so much.
 

Posted by Howard Hewitt at 10:32 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Michael Vick '10 - With the beautiful weather of the past few days, it only made sense to take a day off from class and spend the day exploring another city. Having heard other students talk about how nice it was, I decided to visit Nürnberg (or Nuremberg, for those in the U.S.). I was a bit hesitant at first; my knowledge about the city was limited to the facts that it was the site of Nazi rallies before WWII and the Nuremberg trials afterward.

However, my fears were dispelled the moment I stepped out of the main train station and was greeted by a large tower remaining from the old city wall directly across the street. The Koenigstorturm also stands at one end of the Handwerkhof, where goldsmiths, glass-blowers, and other craftsmen and -women produce hand-made products right before your eyes. Although there's a sculptor in Goettingen who frequently works on the corner outside of his shop, watching him work pales in comparison to walking down a narrow street and seeing a whole slew of wares being produced in almost every shop.

What I found most interesting about the Handwerkhof, though, is that it stands in the heart of the city, yet it feels as if nothing exists beyond the wall of shops. One has to listen closely to hear the screeches of trains arriving at the station or hum from automobiles outside the square. The square itself is enclosed by a portion of the old city wall, which now serves as the boundary between the more modern city on the outside and the Altstadt on the inside.

Nürnberg also made me realize something that's been in the back of my mind since I got here. While many towns and cities in the U.S. still have pedestrian zones with small shops — remnants from the town's past and reminders of its cultural heritage — these areas rarely thrive as they do here.

In my hometown, many a newspaper article present plans for revitalizing downtown; here, the “downtown” areas seem to be the most vibrant, prosperous parts of any city. They teem with life, yet they are also ripe with the relics that give the city purpose and historical value. On any given day in Nürnberg, one can go to the plaza in front of the 700-year-old Frauenkirche (Church of Our Lady) to buy fresh fruits and vegetables, or one could enjoy a nice meal directly outside the gates of the 900-year-old Kaiserburg (an Imperial fortress built early in the history of the Holy Roman Empire) at the northern edge of the Altstadt.

Perhaps I don't see it because I'm an outsider looking in, but the conflict between development and preservation that is all-too-common at home does not seem so frequent here. Luckily, all I have to do to find out if my perception is accurate or not is go to a restaurant or cafe, sit down next to someone, and ask!

In photos: Upper right, The walkways were almost deserted as the Handwerkhof was preparing to close. The sign to the left marks the glass workshop, while the sign to the right marks the shop of a leather-worker. At lower left, The Frauenkirche stands at one edge of the City Market, where vendors set up their stalls and tents to sell their products.

Posted by Howard Hewitt at 10:23 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Alex Ingram '10 - A touch of homesickness is setting in as my last week comes closer. The French Riviera has been an amazing place to spend my summer, undoubtedly full of cultural experiences, but I feel more and more alien every day. My French is certainly improving even more, which has opened up even more of an experience by allowng my to communicate much more than I was able to at the beginnig of my trip. I can´t think of a single day when I, or the group I´m usually with, hasn´t been approached by a random French native for something or other.

This week has provided great political insight into the workings of the EU and the French political system as well. Everything from passports to license plates to health care seem to be unversalized through the EU to make a system that seems to work fluently. One of our fellow students is suffering from a malady, and he was able to go to the local hospital and use his EU health card, from my understanding, to recieve a checkup with minimal red tape and fees. I have seen plenty other salient examples of connection of the EU member countries, but all in all, it has been great to see first hand how the system works.

The French goverment itself is very dfferent as well. There is certainly a socialist undercurrent running through most everything. For example, the French government has instituted what is essentially a mandatory four-week period in which busineses must reduce prices of merchandise by a certain percentage, which needless to say is not a free-market oriented practice. The French government also dictates hours of business for many non-state owned businesses as well. It´s very awkward to comprehend the logic, but the people here don´t seem to have any negative attitude toward the practice.

Another interesting thing is, forgve the sweeping generalization, the French seem to place much less of an emphasis on work than people in the states. It is common practice to take two-hour lunch breaks and work much less than 8 hours a day even for salaried positions here. Further, because of the Catholic prevalency in southern France, Sundays are marked by barren streets and only a few scattered open places of business.

Of course, I´ve continued to indulge on the local French cuisine and deliacies. My new favorite dish is socca, a simple recipe of water, olive oil, and chickpea flower, with varying seasonings. Essentially, it´s a savory crepe, and It´s amazing. I´ve also been lucky enough to find a centuries-old chocolate shop just blocks from my residence that makes the most amazing treats I´ve ever had. Even the simple tempered dark chocolate hits the spot in the morning.

The highlight of the week in culinary adventures, however, was finding a restaurant on the port that served rose wine (the prevalent variety in southern France) and mussels (quite a few variations) in an all-you-can eat family style setting. A group of around fifteen of us students went and it had the feel of a Spanish wedding in the restaurant.

My travels have taken me around the south of France and eastern Italy as well. Although I have only taken day trips, the petite villages in the area are amazing sights for a midwesterner like myself. I´ve walked the seaside mountain-cutting path that Nietchze walked for inspiration and muse, I´ve returned to Monaco to revel in the amazingly posche life and culture, and traveled to St. Tropez to see what celebrities live like in the summer time. Italy, suprisingly, had a very distinct feel even in the border cities. The regional foods were different, and the culture seemed even more relaxed. Needless to say, the views everywhere have been amazing.

I have one week left in the south of France, and am excited to return to my comfort zone and begin my senior year, but of course sad to leave this beautiful place.

Thanks again to the Rudolph family for this amazing opportunity.
 

Posted by Howard Hewitt at 10:48 AM | Permalink | Comments (1)

Alex Ingram '10 - My first week has been absolutely amazing in the Cote d'Azur. I don't know where to begin, so I'll just dive in I guess. My French class is intensive and difficult, but extremely helpful. Each day, all of the four hours are spent conversing in French and French only, which has been most helpful in forcing me think in the language, and memorize quite a bit as well. I have only been studying French for this past week, but I already feel more than capable of making my away around and keeping small conversations.

Most of my outside practice comes at the Nice Gold's Gym. The price tag was quite expensive, 105 € for the month, but it helps keep me in a bit of a routine. The owner and his wife are multi-lingual (to date I don't know exactly how many languages they speak, but it is quite a few), and are very helpful. What humors me though, is how much less an emphasis the French place on exericise in a gym setting, which of course explains the high fees to join a gym. When I ask my teachers and neighbors, they say the same thing: the French walk, and never run. Apparently they don't go to the gym either. Weighing in at a light 185 pounds, I'm the largest person in the gym, sans one man who is undoubtedly on steroids. Today, I actually broke an Olmpyic bar doing hang cleans, which has never happened to me or anyone I know before, and made me quite the popular person in the gym as you could imagine.

Moving along though, I've met an eclectic group of foreigners in my studies and travels so far. My closest friend here is in the private security sector, similar to companies such as Blackwater, but he works out of England. He is learning French to allow him access to French speaking African nations in his work. He has worked extensively in both Iraq and Afghanistan, and the insight into the private workings, as well as the American forces jobs, has been eye opening to say the least. Certainly a different perspective than I've heard yet, and much more informed than any Tom, Dick, or Harry on the American television.

We've traveled around quite a bit together in our first week, via his car. So far, we've been to Antibes, Cannes, Monte Carlo (Monaco), and quite a few more small towns on the French Riviera. The coastline here is beautiful, and can't be done justice in pictures, much less my poor point-and-shoot pictures. The local food also continues to grown on me. Nicoise specialties, such as the Nicoise salad, Moules, and the local gnocchi are all amazing.

Friday was certainly something I'd chalk up to the life experience category: my English friend and I cleaned up and drove his restored Lotus FX to the Casino at Monte Carlo. The town itself is amazing, as is the rest of Monaco, which is its own principality within the French Riviera. When we arrived, we drove through the city on the Formula 1 course, and eventually pulled up to the circle infront of the casino and were valeted into the parking spaces infront of the casino, along with vintage Rolls Royce's and a Mercialago. I've never felt more alien in my life, although it was certainly welcomed. The casino is amazing, and so was the 6€ Perrier I was drinking. All in all, the evening certainly hurt my wallet, but was well worth it. Thankfully, I lost much more money to my drink bill than to the casino itself.

The highlight of the week, however, was standing on the curb, no fence, no barrier, as the tour de Lance (or France, if you wish) came through Nice. I went out three hours early, and to my suprise, was the only one on the curb on the chateau point, probably the most beautiful view of the city, the coastline, and the mediterranean. While waiting the three hours or so, hundreds of sponsored cars came through the course throwing out all kinds of free goodies, which made the whole day quite an event for me. Then finally, the riders came through, and I was literally arms length from Lance Armstrong and the rest of the riders as they cornered the curb I was standing on. I could've fallen of the curb and literally wrecked half of the riders. It was simply unbelievable, an experience I'll never forget.

Posted by Howard Hewitt at 10:07 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Michael Vick '10 - At this moment, I feel as if I could write a dissertation based solely on last weekend's experiences in Berlin. Many were morose and awe-inspiring: walking over the former location of SS headquarters, where the “Final Solution to the Jewish Problem” was designed and political dissidents were tortured; standing before the graveyard holding the remains of 2,500 Soviet soldiers who died taking Berlin and finally destroying the Nazi Wehrmacht; gazing upon a picture of the faces of East German protestors who were killed by Soviet tank rounds shortly after the picture was taken — all of these sent a cold chill through me.

The city is full of history, and knowing some of that history only made the things I felt as I walked around it even more powerful.

The most potent experiences I had in Berlin are associated with the “Field of Stelae,” a plaza of rectangular column-gravestones that serves as a memorial for the murdered Jews of Europe. The square is not flat, but forms a bowl shape so that the “graves” tower over anyone standing in the center. From the street, those walking deeper into the memorial seem to be consumed by the dark stones. The layout of the columns into narrow rows and columns means that even if you are able to hear someone nearby, you still won't see them until you both round a corner and bump into each other; if you stand in the middle and look up the sloping ground towards the exit, you catch a only momentary glimpse of people walking down the perpendicular columns before they disappear. At the lowest point, the sense of despair and isolation envelopes you, and it feels like that graves are about to smash together and entomb.

The experience didn't end when I walked back onto the street, either; while sitting outside a small pizza- and döner-shop across from the memorial, my head was filled with thoughts that I can't even begin to convey yet.

Other experiences, however, were more jubilant.

When the sunlight broke through the clouds and caused a cross of light to form on the silver sphere of the TV tower—a symbol of East German achievement constructed after the much smaller golden cross atop the Berlin cathedral was removed—I couldn't help but laugh. I met a German couple on Friday afternoon, and we ended up having dinner and talking about life in East Berlin. It was interesting hearing the perspective of “everyday” East Berliners who experienced first-hand the drawbacks and advantages of reunification.

Of course, it only made sense to visit the DDR Museum following this conversation, where I got an even-more detailed glimpse into life of the life of the average East German. Although some aspects of the museum were humorous and light-hearted — one could sit in a Trabi, the standard car available to East Germans, or one could rock out to music from popular East German bands — the exhibits detailing the history of the Wall and standard practices of the Stasi recalled the more sinister facets of life in the East.

The museum helped flesh out some of the pros and cons that we discussed in German class last semester, yet it, like many things here, leaves me with the task of assembling the details into a coherent lesson that I can use later in life.

Posted by Howard Hewitt at 10:57 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Alex Ingram '11 - The past three days have been hectic to say the least. Sufficeth to say, dealing with an overbooked flight and currency/payment issues is not how I planned spending my first day in France. Regardless, the three days have been amazing as well. On my flight over, I was seated beside a French and Morocco dual-citizen who surpisingly wanted to talk about metaphysics the whole flight. My limited time spent studying philosophy at Wabash left me unable to understand the breadth of knowledge she had gained pleasure reading on the subject, but it was informative nonetheless.

Once I arrived in Nice though, my trip has gone rather smoothly, with a few exceptions. I arrived in the late afternoon, which is early morning back home, but I felt compelled to explore after taking the taxi through the town center. My first day was spent exploring solo, of course. The first thing that caught my eye was an enormous statue nestled into a peak on the coast, that I later learned is a memorial for the ''sons of Nice'' killed in the world wars.

I continued to wander around, admiring the architecture in general and dodging in and out of old stone pathways that caught my eye. The city has a beautiful mix of modern architecture and medieval restoration that gives it a good sense of character. I'm sure it will keep unfolding the more I explore, and within the next two weeks we have a few scheduled trips with the school as well.

That said, I think I've finally gotten as settled in as I believe I will here in Nice, France. I'm living in a student residence for local and international students, and taking classes during the day at the Alliance Francaise de Nice. As I said before, the town is quite charming; it's situated on the southeastern corner of France on the mediterranean, and it is very close to the Italian border. The residence is located right on the port, and is a few blocks from the beach and in the center of vieux-Nice, or historic Nice.

With my first day as the exception, I haven't been trekking around as much as I would like. Dealing with the hassle of blown power converters and a malfunctioning computer have left me with other priorities, not to mention attempting to break through the language barrier and keep up on my class work. However, I can say that the residents have been more than welcoming and exteremely helpful up until now.

However, most people I've met to date speak English very well, which is of course a blessing for a complete beginner. It also opens a window for me to learn more about France and French culture without having a functioning knowledge of the language. Talking to fellow students and teachers about the real workings of the EU has been informative, as well as conversations with those students from Bellorussia and East Asia. It also makes for an interesting collage of languages spoken within the classroom, which can become hectic when there is any confusion in the lesson.

Of course, I'd be doing a disservice to you all if I didn't say it: the food has been amazing, even the cheap eats. Eating seafood pizza and drinking great (and affordable) wine on the cote D'azur is something I won't soon forget. Also, I'm planning on going to Monte Carlo and Monaco this weekend with my neighbor from the U.K., as he brought his car down for the trip. His car also happens to be a Lotus, which should make for an experience in itself for a midwesterner like me.

Hopefully I'll know enough survival French to make my way around without any English by this weekend (although I find it amazing how quickly you pick up things when you're left with no other options).

In photos: Top left, the memorial Alex wrote about. Lower right, the street on which he lives.

Posted by Howard Hewitt at 06:42 AM | Permalink | Comments (1)