Two hundred and twenty-two years ago this past Thursday, angry Parisians tore down an empty prison. OK, they were going after guns or something, but regardless, it ended up being the French national day. And so this American couple did our best to honor France on July 14th.
Sunday, July 17, 2011
Saturday, July 16, 2011
Mon mari, le chef de cuisine
Last night we had duck for dinner. Not just any old duck, but pan-seared with a honey citrus glaze...a recipe made up entirely by none other than Thomas J. Hunt! As any of you who have visited can attest to, Tom has really become quite the French chef over here. Besides duck, his specialties include: pork chops with a red wine mushroom sauce; crispy potatoes and sausage with creme fraiche gravy; roasted garlic, egg and warm goat cheese sandwiches (on a fresh baguette, of course); and frittata with fresh market vegetables. Are you drooling yet? It becomes even more impressive when I tell you that this is all made on a terribly finicky two-burner electric stove with one frying pan and one pot.
Tom has always been a creative and skilled chef- especially with meats- but being here in the land of "gourmandise" has really inspired him to take it to a new level. (That, and the fact that I don't get home in the evenings until 9pm, so he is automatically relegated to dinner-duty.) I have really enjoyed reaping the benefits of his talent and just wanted to take a moment to brag about it. :) Thank you, mon mari!
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| "How does my cooking always turn out so amazing?!" |
Monday, July 11, 2011
Boulangerie haikus
We love the French bakeries. As our homage before we leave, we wrote haikus to describe our feelings. Enjoy.
Sunday, July 3, 2011
Fête de la Musique
Sometimes you get really terrible free music experiences (as we found out already) and sometimes you are absolutely blown away by the amazing-ness of free music. A couple weeks ago was "Fête de la Musique" in Paris (and all of France) and we were not prepared for just how awesome it would be! This festival is held annually on June 21st, to celebrate the longest day of the year, which is a pretty big deal here because it stays light out until 10:45pm. Public transportation runs all night long, which is also a pretty big deal because our train normally stops running at 1:30am on weekends and often cuts the night short.
Some of the highlights from that Tuesday night:
-Music- literally- on every corner...DJ's mixing hip hop, string quartets, drum corps, acapella groups, rock bands, 80's bands, reggae, brass...you name it, and it was rocking the streets.
-Open containers everywhere...we walked down the streets of Paris with a cup of beer. Paris, the capitol of France! Felt kind of like we were back in college.
-French people singing American song lyrics..it will never get old.
Last weekend, we went to another amazing music festival in La Defense (the sky scraper/business district of Paris) and danced the night away with...George Clinton and P-Funk! In case you were wondering: Yes, he is still rockin' out at age 70 (we did notice that he had to sit down several times, and his voice sounded pretty terrible, but you gotta respect his enthusiasm).
This music experience was particularly special, because the first time we danced all night to George Clinton and P-Funk was 8 years ago (our freshman year) at W&L's Fancy Dress ball, when I was Tom's date. :) I don't think either of us would've guessed that we'd be dancing to the same music in Paris, France as husband and wife! We've come a long way since then...
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| Tom enjoying some hip hop and beer on the street |
Some of the highlights from that Tuesday night:
-Music- literally- on every corner...DJ's mixing hip hop, string quartets, drum corps, acapella groups, rock bands, 80's bands, reggae, brass...you name it, and it was rocking the streets.
-Open containers everywhere...we walked down the streets of Paris with a cup of beer. Paris, the capitol of France! Felt kind of like we were back in college.
-French people singing American song lyrics..it will never get old.
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| An ironic sight, with a band rockin' out to "My Sharona" in front of this street mural |
This music experience was particularly special, because the first time we danced all night to George Clinton and P-Funk was 8 years ago (our freshman year) at W&L's Fancy Dress ball, when I was Tom's date. :) I don't think either of us would've guessed that we'd be dancing to the same music in Paris, France as husband and wife! We've come a long way since then...
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| Fancy Dress, March 2003 |
Wednesday, June 29, 2011
Don't Leave Home Without It
It's a little hard to tell in the picture, but circled next to the magazine is undeniably a Torrey hair. IT HAS BEEN SIX MONTHS SINCE WE DROPPED HER OFF WITH FRIENDS IN COLORADO!!!!
(Torrey, for those of you that don't know, is our very, very hairy dog). I found this on the floor today while sweeping. All of our clothes here have been washed multiple times. We sweep daily. We are ON A DIFFERENT CONTINENT. Yet we can't get away.
I guess there are some things that will be rough to come home to. On a related note, thank you again to Nathan and Lydia, and Sarah and Ryan. We probably owe you new vacuum cleaners, as well as our gratitude.
Sunday, June 26, 2011
Concrete Ping Pong
That, my friends, is an outdoor ping-pong table. It is in the park across the street from us, and it is 100% concrete. Margaret bought me a set of paddles and balls for my birthday, and we go play a few times a week now. It's light enough out to play till almost 10 PM.
As you can probably imagine, wind has a huge effect in outdoor ping-pong. You definitely want to be hitting upwind- you can hit it as hard as you want and it lands in. Even more fun is having a concrete net. You can have little games with yourself if you want, and all sorts of sweet bounces 10 feet in the air if you hit the top of the net.
It's a pretty delightful way to make up for being in a tiny apartment. I'll miss our outdoor table when we go home.
Tuesday, June 21, 2011
Defeated by the French...
...and their extreme fear of rain!
Margaret and I went to have a picnic in the park on Monday. We staked out a lovely place underneath some giant trees and were having a grand ol' time, as seen in picture below.
It even began to drizzle a little bit, which was nice because we were dry under the trees and got to sit and watch the rain fall.
Now, all the parks in France are completely fenced and gated, and most have signs on the gates that basically say 'this park will close in case of storm'. I always assumed that meant, you know, a storm. Maybe they are worried about people being in open fields during tornadoes or something. Never mind that we haven't seen any weather more intense than a soaking rain since we've been here.
It turns out that what those signs mean is that the park will close in the instance of any sort of liquid falling from the sky. After about 20 minutes of rain, a park ranger started driving his scooter around all the paths in the park, honking his big bad scooter horn constantly. He eventually came up to us and told us that we needed to leave immediately out the main gate!
I have no idea what they are trying to protect by closing parks when it rains. You aren't allowed to sit on the grass or play sports in most parks anyway. I would say that it is to save the park rangers from getting wet, but they all have shelters to stand in. Maybe it is just for job security, to justify having a person staff the gate of a park that is free to enter.
Anyway, we enjoyed the rest of our evening at home.
Margaret and I went to have a picnic in the park on Monday. We staked out a lovely place underneath some giant trees and were having a grand ol' time, as seen in picture below.
It even began to drizzle a little bit, which was nice because we were dry under the trees and got to sit and watch the rain fall.
Now, all the parks in France are completely fenced and gated, and most have signs on the gates that basically say 'this park will close in case of storm'. I always assumed that meant, you know, a storm. Maybe they are worried about people being in open fields during tornadoes or something. Never mind that we haven't seen any weather more intense than a soaking rain since we've been here.
It turns out that what those signs mean is that the park will close in the instance of any sort of liquid falling from the sky. After about 20 minutes of rain, a park ranger started driving his scooter around all the paths in the park, honking his big bad scooter horn constantly. He eventually came up to us and told us that we needed to leave immediately out the main gate!
I have no idea what they are trying to protect by closing parks when it rains. You aren't allowed to sit on the grass or play sports in most parks anyway. I would say that it is to save the park rangers from getting wet, but they all have shelters to stand in. Maybe it is just for job security, to justify having a person staff the gate of a park that is free to enter.
Anyway, we enjoyed the rest of our evening at home.
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| The park ranger in the distance, off to honk his scooter horn at other innocent picnic-ers |
Thursday, June 16, 2011
The Words We Used
Telluride Bluegrass Festival starts today. Most of my favorite bands, a place more beautiful than imaginable, happiest atmosphere I've ever experienced: there are good reasons that this week was the one I was most dejected to miss when we decided to come to France.
Along with the thoughts of Telluride, there have been other reasons that have made the past week or so the most homesick I've had here. The end is in site, and my heart has definitely moved back to the States. This semester hasn't been very busy, class-wise, so I feel somewhat like time is being wasted. And because I haven't had many days of class, it's been hard to keep up regular interactions with people.
Rather than dwell on missing Telluride and accentuate the blue mood, I want to try to catalogue the many ideas, words, and pieces of art that have accompanied me through the past 5 months, alleviating homesickness and culture shock. For those reasons, I think the proliferation and ease of portability of our entertainment and culture has been one of the things I've been most grateful for this year.
The library to bring to France was a major decision last December. My all-time favorites, of course: the frozen poetry of The English Patient, Garrison Keillor's Leaving Home, the lonely companionship of Gatsby, the painful beauty of Till We Have Faces. Also, A Moveable Feast for Paris. And St. Augustin's Confessions, Mere Christianity, and The Brothers Karamazov to provoke thought.
As much as I keep harping on it, getting The New Yorker over here has been clutch. At times my language skills have felt like they were covered in felt, because of the simplifications required when most of our speaking is with non-native English speakers. Each issue of the magazine has been a weekly cleansing, reminding me of good words and well-constructed arguments.
And music has been a constant, with Margaret's iPod stereo dock playing almost non-stop when we are in our apartment. Rocking out, setting the mood, waking us up- having music at the tip of your fingers might be my favorite modern technology. And on days like today, it is a solace to be able to call up some DMB to provide the comforts of an old musical friend, or Darrell Scott to sing the beauty of the American spirit.
This blog has been an aid, too. Even when the posts have been blatantly self-serving (i.e., this one), it has helped me express myself and also feel in contact with friends. And really, I think all of the words and music we have used to keep us going over here can only maintain for so long. It's the deep conversations and brief joyful moments with good friends that you really miss in a new place.
Still you don't expect to be bright and bon vivant
So far away from home, so far away from home
Paul Simon's "American Tune", via the Darrell Scott version
Along with the thoughts of Telluride, there have been other reasons that have made the past week or so the most homesick I've had here. The end is in site, and my heart has definitely moved back to the States. This semester hasn't been very busy, class-wise, so I feel somewhat like time is being wasted. And because I haven't had many days of class, it's been hard to keep up regular interactions with people.
Rather than dwell on missing Telluride and accentuate the blue mood, I want to try to catalogue the many ideas, words, and pieces of art that have accompanied me through the past 5 months, alleviating homesickness and culture shock. For those reasons, I think the proliferation and ease of portability of our entertainment and culture has been one of the things I've been most grateful for this year.
The library to bring to France was a major decision last December. My all-time favorites, of course: the frozen poetry of The English Patient, Garrison Keillor's Leaving Home, the lonely companionship of Gatsby, the painful beauty of Till We Have Faces. Also, A Moveable Feast for Paris. And St. Augustin's Confessions, Mere Christianity, and The Brothers Karamazov to provoke thought.
As much as I keep harping on it, getting The New Yorker over here has been clutch. At times my language skills have felt like they were covered in felt, because of the simplifications required when most of our speaking is with non-native English speakers. Each issue of the magazine has been a weekly cleansing, reminding me of good words and well-constructed arguments.
And music has been a constant, with Margaret's iPod stereo dock playing almost non-stop when we are in our apartment. Rocking out, setting the mood, waking us up- having music at the tip of your fingers might be my favorite modern technology. And on days like today, it is a solace to be able to call up some DMB to provide the comforts of an old musical friend, or Darrell Scott to sing the beauty of the American spirit.
This blog has been an aid, too. Even when the posts have been blatantly self-serving (i.e., this one), it has helped me express myself and also feel in contact with friends. And really, I think all of the words and music we have used to keep us going over here can only maintain for so long. It's the deep conversations and brief joyful moments with good friends that you really miss in a new place.
Still you don't expect to be bright and bon vivant
So far away from home, so far away from home
Paul Simon's "American Tune", via the Darrell Scott version
Wednesday, June 15, 2011
Breakdown
This is a little delayed in posting, but whoever guessed 5 months in the 'When will they break down and prepare themselves cheeseburgers, fries, and beer for dinner to satisfy patriotic longings?' poll, you win.
Right around the end of May I hit the wall with French food, so we went to the grocery for beef, hamburger buns, ketchup, and potatoes.
It was delicious. AMERICA!
Right around the end of May I hit the wall with French food, so we went to the grocery for beef, hamburger buns, ketchup, and potatoes.
It was delicious. AMERICA!
Pay For What You Get
This Saturday, Margaret and I went to a free concert in Parc St. Cloud, south of us on the outskirts of Paris. It was actually a really beautiful park with formal gardens stretching on forever. And it was nearly empty! Beautiful things abound around here, I guess, and it's too far out of central Paris for tourists to get there.
So that was nice. The concert was another story. It was actually a series of concerts, but we didn't get there till the last one. It was an Ethiopian folk singer and a Parisian jazz bassist playing together. Intriguing, right?
Well, all I can say is that they have unentertaining jazz fusion music in France too. It turned out to be dark un-melodic chanting over a thrumming, distorted bass line. Perfect for those contemplative evenings at home in a thunderstorm, or if the end of the world has come and you want to ponder the sins of your civilization. Not so much for a Saturday afternoon in the park when most of your audience is families with small children. People fled in droves.
But the park was beautiful, and we had a great picnic. And it was free.
So that was nice. The concert was another story. It was actually a series of concerts, but we didn't get there till the last one. It was an Ethiopian folk singer and a Parisian jazz bassist playing together. Intriguing, right?
Well, all I can say is that they have unentertaining jazz fusion music in France too. It turned out to be dark un-melodic chanting over a thrumming, distorted bass line. Perfect for those contemplative evenings at home in a thunderstorm, or if the end of the world has come and you want to ponder the sins of your civilization. Not so much for a Saturday afternoon in the park when most of your audience is families with small children. People fled in droves.
But the park was beautiful, and we had a great picnic. And it was free.
Sunday, June 12, 2011
Beer biking in Belgium
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162 miles, 25 beers, 5 days, 2 bikes and 1 happy couple....we took our long-awaited beer cycling trip last weekend and had a blast. For this beer geek and cycling enthusiast duo, it felt like we were returning to the Mother Ship.
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Monday, June 6, 2011
Hiking the Côte d'Azur
This entry is WAY overdue...
While Tom had to return to Paris for class, I was fortunate enough to spend the second of my two week spring break hiking the southern coast of France with Beth! (Yes, French primary schools not only get two weeks of spring break, they get two weeks of vacation for every six weeks of school. AND, every Wednesday off. I guess they're just trying to prepare for French adult life.)
We met in Nice (at a at a hostel which served 12 kinds of cereal for breakfast!), with no real plan other than to catch a train in Toulon- 120 miles away- 5 days later. And we were going to walk. And we were going to camp in whatever open beach or forest we found along the way. It was an ambitious itinerary, as we soon realized. But figuring it out is half the fun, right?
The trip turned out amazing: we hiked along two beautiful coastal trails, through the mountains and into small seaside villages. We walked through vineyard valleys and successfully hitchhiked twice- once with a hippie Swiss couple and once with a local girl on her way to work. The Cote d'Azur is definitely made more for stylish Parisian vacationers than budget backpackers, but one of the amazing features of the region was that every bus ride between towns cost only 1 Euro! Never mind that they always ended up taking twice as long as scheduled because of some accident or traffic jam, to which the bus drivers and riders contentedly just stopped and got out for a smoke break on the side of the road. It provided a convenient, legal way to hitch hike what we couldn't walk. :)
We found some amazing beach side campsites, that felt especially like heaven after hours of tromping through sand and rocks. Apparently the Germans love cheap camping too, because we were constantly surrounded by them. "Campeole" was the name of the camping chain, and they even made pain au chocolates to order for breakfast if you'd like! One night we tried camping in the forest (actually not allowed) and spent the entire night listening to hoof tromping and snorting-grunting sounds all around our tent. Wild boars, horses, mountain lions?!...we will never know, except that we were sure we'd get eaten alive.
We ended in Toulon on Good Friday, and made it just in time for a Stations of the Cross service at noon. We joined a congregation of hundreds and walked through the streets of the city singing, kneeling and reading the story of Christ's death. It was an experience we'll never forget- to be united with believers from all walks and stages of life, proclaiming the sorrow of that day.
The trip was a wonderful time of renewal, rest and adventure. I am eternally grateful for friends who will share in these crazy adventures and remind me what it means to love unconditionally.
While Tom had to return to Paris for class, I was fortunate enough to spend the second of my two week spring break hiking the southern coast of France with Beth! (Yes, French primary schools not only get two weeks of spring break, they get two weeks of vacation for every six weeks of school. AND, every Wednesday off. I guess they're just trying to prepare for French adult life.)
We met in Nice (at a at a hostel which served 12 kinds of cereal for breakfast!), with no real plan other than to catch a train in Toulon- 120 miles away- 5 days later. And we were going to walk. And we were going to camp in whatever open beach or forest we found along the way. It was an ambitious itinerary, as we soon realized. But figuring it out is half the fun, right?
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| Starting off in Nice, with our new street-bought sunglasses |
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| Cannes |
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| A view of the coast |
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| Hiking in the Massif L'Esterel |
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| Sun setting over the Mediterranean |
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| Unable to find the right gas for our stove, meals consisted of canned veggies/meats, pudding and baguettes |
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| Sunrise |
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| We've come so far! |
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| Coastal trail around the peninsula of St. Tropez |
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| What are those girls doing in hiking boots on the beach?! |
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| Coastal trail from Port Lucia to Saint-Raphaël |
We found some amazing beach side campsites, that felt especially like heaven after hours of tromping through sand and rocks. Apparently the Germans love cheap camping too, because we were constantly surrounded by them. "Campeole" was the name of the camping chain, and they even made pain au chocolates to order for breakfast if you'd like! One night we tried camping in the forest (actually not allowed) and spent the entire night listening to hoof tromping and snorting-grunting sounds all around our tent. Wild boars, horses, mountain lions?!...we will never know, except that we were sure we'd get eaten alive.
We ended in Toulon on Good Friday, and made it just in time for a Stations of the Cross service at noon. We joined a congregation of hundreds and walked through the streets of the city singing, kneeling and reading the story of Christ's death. It was an experience we'll never forget- to be united with believers from all walks and stages of life, proclaiming the sorrow of that day.
The trip was a wonderful time of renewal, rest and adventure. I am eternally grateful for friends who will share in these crazy adventures and remind me what it means to love unconditionally.
Wednesday, May 25, 2011
Loire Valley
When my mom came to visit, she took us on a weekend trip down to the Loire Valley as a birthday present/adventure. Here are the highlights of the trip.
We rented a car and had a beautiful drive down to the small town of Langeais the first night. Margaret did a great job of conducting our fearless Fiat Panda down the French highways.
We stayed that night in a bed and breakfast run by an older gentleman. It had amazing rose gardens and was directly across the street from the chateau. We got there a little late and walked to the only little family restaurant still open. Turned out to be a great meal with pitchers of the cheap local wine. Margaret and I had a room on the top floor and listened to the night showers on the roof as we went to sleep. The owner had warned us against taking the room that fronted the street because it might be a little noisy. See the picture below to grasp the contrast between Langeais busy streets and Paris busy streets.
We rented a car and had a beautiful drive down to the small town of Langeais the first night. Margaret did a great job of conducting our fearless Fiat Panda down the French highways.
We stayed that night in a bed and breakfast run by an older gentleman. It had amazing rose gardens and was directly across the street from the chateau. We got there a little late and walked to the only little family restaurant still open. Turned out to be a great meal with pitchers of the cheap local wine. Margaret and I had a room on the top floor and listened to the night showers on the roof as we went to sleep. The owner had warned us against taking the room that fronted the street because it might be a little noisy. See the picture below to grasp the contrast between Langeais busy streets and Paris busy streets.
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| My mom and I fighting through the hordes of tourists in Langeais. Chateau at the left, restaurant straight ahead, B&B just off-screen to the right |
Saturday, May 21, 2011
Public Transit Study
Here is a really good post from one of my favorite blogs critiquing a study on public transit that is in the news right now. Even though we bought a house next to a light rail station and I will be relying on public transit in the fall, there is no way that I think Denver has the 6th best transit system in the country. But the article that Nate Silver wrote about the study is very thoughtful and asks a bunch of interesting questions.
538 post on common sense and public transit
538 post on common sense and public transit
Monday, May 16, 2011
Shale Oil and Gas
Two interesting articles about developments in shale oil and gas.
The first is from the NYTimes, on the shale gas potential of Ukraine. This is really big for Europe- Russia basically has a chokehold on Europe via natural gas supply. Being able to get a significant amount from Ukraine would be a relatively cheap way of easing the Russian dominance. European countries are currently planning on spending a fortune on LNG terminals and long pipelines from the Caucasus.
The second is a New Yorker article giving a really good summary of the shale oil boom in North Dakota right now. The amounts of oil there are pretty large. Not enough for 'energy independence' (a solely political concept), but significant. Unfortunately, the link is just an abstract, but consider it another hint from me to subscribe to the New Yorker.
All of these shale developments are great news for the U.S., because we have the expertise in the area. We're the only ones who have succeeded in it, and the rest of the world is going to be hiring us to teach them. And it's good for world energy supply, because there are huge amounts of oil and gas in shale formations (well, good in the 'delaying Peak Oil' sense. Not so good in the 'hey maybe we should stop using petroleum sometime soon because it is polluting' sense).
Shale oil and gas has come under a lot of unwarranted environmental criticism, in my opinion. The main critique is that the fraccing fluids can somehow pollute groundwater. From my one Reservoir Engineering course, this makes no sense at all. The fluids are injected literally miles underground, into rock that is too impermeable to permit migration of fluids upwards (which is the whole point of a shale formation). Blaming groundwater contamination on the fraccing seems ridiculous. There can certainly be large-scale pollution (groundwater or otherwise) from the rush to drill, the larger amount of surface area needed for shale drilling, and from over-eager companies not responsibly handling their wells. These things need to be well regulated.
The most interesting critique to me, though, is that fraccing uses a ton of water. Seeing as my former favorite fuel (biodiesel, and ethanol by extension) gets criticized frequently for the amount of water needed to irrigate the fields, fraccing seems to get a free pass because people don't associate petroleum with water usage. But the amounts are immense. I have no idea how it compares to the amounts needed to irrigate enough fields for a comparable amount of biodiesel... maybe that will be the topic of my next post.
The first is from the NYTimes, on the shale gas potential of Ukraine. This is really big for Europe- Russia basically has a chokehold on Europe via natural gas supply. Being able to get a significant amount from Ukraine would be a relatively cheap way of easing the Russian dominance. European countries are currently planning on spending a fortune on LNG terminals and long pipelines from the Caucasus.
The second is a New Yorker article giving a really good summary of the shale oil boom in North Dakota right now. The amounts of oil there are pretty large. Not enough for 'energy independence' (a solely political concept), but significant. Unfortunately, the link is just an abstract, but consider it another hint from me to subscribe to the New Yorker.
All of these shale developments are great news for the U.S., because we have the expertise in the area. We're the only ones who have succeeded in it, and the rest of the world is going to be hiring us to teach them. And it's good for world energy supply, because there are huge amounts of oil and gas in shale formations (well, good in the 'delaying Peak Oil' sense. Not so good in the 'hey maybe we should stop using petroleum sometime soon because it is polluting' sense).
Shale oil and gas has come under a lot of unwarranted environmental criticism, in my opinion. The main critique is that the fraccing fluids can somehow pollute groundwater. From my one Reservoir Engineering course, this makes no sense at all. The fluids are injected literally miles underground, into rock that is too impermeable to permit migration of fluids upwards (which is the whole point of a shale formation). Blaming groundwater contamination on the fraccing seems ridiculous. There can certainly be large-scale pollution (groundwater or otherwise) from the rush to drill, the larger amount of surface area needed for shale drilling, and from over-eager companies not responsibly handling their wells. These things need to be well regulated.
The most interesting critique to me, though, is that fraccing uses a ton of water. Seeing as my former favorite fuel (biodiesel, and ethanol by extension) gets criticized frequently for the amount of water needed to irrigate the fields, fraccing seems to get a free pass because people don't associate petroleum with water usage. But the amounts are immense. I have no idea how it compares to the amounts needed to irrigate enough fields for a comparable amount of biodiesel... maybe that will be the topic of my next post.
Monday, May 9, 2011
Saturday, May 7, 2011
4 months
So far, so good! We're still alive, still enjoying France, still feeling American.
April had some definite positives: vacation in Rome and Barcelona, a strong finish to my second semester of graduate school, a great birthday celebration for me, and the beginning of my mom's visit.
I got to live a bachelor life for a week while Margaret stayed on vacation with a friend. The verdict: fairly boring when you are in another country and have class every day.
I think we've made a little bit of a pivot in our mentality here. Up until now, we've been using the time and the change of pace to learn, think, and imagine. We've been able to see new perspectives, using the separation and foreign experience as a medium for thought.
Now that we are over halfway done, we're changing our focus to firming up the ideas and plans we will bring back with us. I'm trying to figure out how to incorporate the IFP's international oil perspective into the Colorado energy scene I will most likely join after graduating. Together, we're identifying plans for new endeavors and actions at home. It feels like a natural time to shift mentality, and I hope it will lead to a productive two and a half months.
The shift from counting up (time spent here) to counting down (time till we return to CO) also makes it easier to feel homesick. It's more natural now to feel frustrated with the effort required in daily life in a foreign country, and to miss Torrey! The return is close. I think the biggest challenge in the coming month is to stay in the moment and not let time disappear in the excitement of visitors, warm weather, and travels.
April had some definite positives: vacation in Rome and Barcelona, a strong finish to my second semester of graduate school, a great birthday celebration for me, and the beginning of my mom's visit.
I got to live a bachelor life for a week while Margaret stayed on vacation with a friend. The verdict: fairly boring when you are in another country and have class every day.
I think we've made a little bit of a pivot in our mentality here. Up until now, we've been using the time and the change of pace to learn, think, and imagine. We've been able to see new perspectives, using the separation and foreign experience as a medium for thought.
Now that we are over halfway done, we're changing our focus to firming up the ideas and plans we will bring back with us. I'm trying to figure out how to incorporate the IFP's international oil perspective into the Colorado energy scene I will most likely join after graduating. Together, we're identifying plans for new endeavors and actions at home. It feels like a natural time to shift mentality, and I hope it will lead to a productive two and a half months.
The shift from counting up (time spent here) to counting down (time till we return to CO) also makes it easier to feel homesick. It's more natural now to feel frustrated with the effort required in daily life in a foreign country, and to miss Torrey! The return is close. I think the biggest challenge in the coming month is to stay in the moment and not let time disappear in the excitement of visitors, warm weather, and travels.
Friday, May 6, 2011
Palais Garnier
This is for you, Janet!
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| The opera ceiling, by Marc Chagall |
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| Close up of the Eiffel Tower |
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| Foyer where concert-goers can spend intermission |
Thursday, May 5, 2011
Spring Break part 2: Barcelona
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| Basilica of the Sagrada Familia |
Sunday, May 1, 2011
Spring Break part 1: Rome
We wanted to go to Rome primarily for the history. I (Tom) especially pushed for it; I wanted to see where the Caesers ruled, where the early church had pivotal moments, and where the most powerful city in the world at one time transformed in to a modern capital.
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