"Elle ne parle pas du français"

Most of my time in Paris was spent watching people talk, trying to understand through body language. I would just stand there while Karina and her friends conversed with cool-looking French people, then the French person would motion to me and say something -- probably along the lines of "what's up with your mute friend?" -- and Karina would say, ""Elle ne parle pas du français." I heard that phrase in my sleep. All the French university students I met were incredibly sweet (nice French people?!) and tried to speak to me in English. And I kept thinking of that line from Henry V -- "Come, your answer in broken music; for thy voice is music and thy English broken."

My favorite conversation from my Paris trip, with Shakespeare-style French accent:
French student: Vere are yoo from?
Me: I'm from California.
French student: Ooh lala! (They said that a lot) Yoo go to school in California?
Me: (Thinking just say "yes") Uhhhhh no. I go to school somewhere else.
French student: Vere?
Me: Um... in Wisconsin?
French student: OH VISCONSIN! That ees vere I go at end of zeh world!

It turns out that in the new apocalyptic movie 2012, they end up in Wisconsin. That was an interesting conversation in relation to my usual one.

But now I'm back in England, drinking tea, eating biscuits, learning about The Troubles, watching X Factor, still giggling when someone says "bloody hell."

Today, I made a sandwich with roasted eggplant, Camembert, and chutney, which was really yummy... but I miss French food. Eating on Mondays is a problem, I have a jam-packed schedule, complete with class from 11-12:30, then 2-5, then I have rehearsal from 6-9. Oh I don't think I posted this, but I am officially the dramaturg for the Shakespeare society's production of All's Well That Ends Well, which I'm so excited about. It's basically exactly what I wanted to do.... lots of research, reading far into the text, and then I get to go to a high school and lead a workshop. I like being appreciated for my nerding-out capabilities.

Pictures are up! Laurie and Mark took me to a market and to a really cute old village with pretty mountains around it. Seeing mountains after being in England for months was a strange sensation.

Oh yeah and there's the Eiffel Tower....

I left Paris yesterday and got to Lodeve later than expected.

Hannah's Tips for Missing Your Train Out of Paris:
1) Don't have any knowledge of the French language. I highly advise this. The less you know, the harder it is for you to understand the signs in Gare du Nord, which are only in French. Plus, there are pretty much zero cognates when it comes to transportation lingo.
2) Don't be on time. Also very important. It doesn't matter why you're late ... maybe because you slept in, you couldn't catch a cab, or in my case, you couldn't understand how to buy a metro ticket because the damn machine was only in French.
3) Go to the wrong train station. Gare du Nord and Gare Lyon should be interchangeable in your mind.

But I made it, and that's really all that matters right?

Paris was AH-mazing. I got there on Friday afternoon and Karina and I had a picnic in the park by the Eiffel Tower, which consisted of wine, baguette, three kinds of cheese, pate, flan and some blueberry tart thing.  Other yummy eats included: hot chocolate with a croissant for dipping, mussels, chicken plate with fries at 5am, crepe with goat cheese, ham and mushroom at 1am, falafel from the Jewish quarter.... yeah. Life is good. We went to the Centre Pompidou for some culture and met up with some of her friends at night for some fun.

Now I'm in Lodeve with my cousins who are feeding me even MORE delicious food. I go back to Paris on Thursday afternoon and then I'll leave for England on Saturday.


New discovery: it's possible to be homesick for somewhere that you didn't even consider your home until you left it.


More thoughts, stories, pictures, etc. to come once I get back to the island....

Oi vs. Oy

English people say:
"Oi, get over here!"
"Oi, what do you think you're doing?"
"Oi, step off the monument!"
"Oi, what's that supposed to mean?"

I say:
"Oy, my head hurts."
"Oy, that's heavy!"
"Oy, I have so much work to do."
"Oy, it's been a long day."

The tea stains my mug and I can't scrub it off...

Here is the conversation I have with every single person I meet:

New Friend: Where in America are you from?
Me: Well, I'm from California, but I don't go--
New Friend: Really? I'm so jealous. You must hate the weather here.
Me: Actually, no... I really like it. I get burnt easily, so this whole lack of sun thing works out pretty well for me.
New Friend: Where in California are you from?
Me: I'm from Berkeley, but I don't go--
New Friend: Where's that? I've been to (insert city in California, usually LA, San Diego, or San Francisco)
Me: It's about forty-five minutes away from San Francisco.
New Friend: That's amazing. You must go there a lot. So, you're on the California exchange program?
Me: Uh... haha... no. I'm from California, but I go to university... um... somewhere else.
New Friend: Where?
Me: Um, in Wisconsin? It's in the middle and by Canada.
New Friend: Oh... why?

And here, depending on my mood, I either say something along the lines of "I wanted to see a different part of the country," or "I wanted to know what seasons are like," or just "because I'm crazy."

 My Own Personal Teatime

This weekend, I bought my train ticket to Paris. One of my favorite people, Karina, is studying there for the year, and during my reading week break in early November, I'm going to go stay in her little Parisian apartment. Then, during the week so as not to distract her from her studies, I am going to go to Lodeve to visit my cousins. I've never been to Paris, and here is what I am expecting:

• Illegal can-can performances interrupted by the police, as seen in Can-Can
• Interpretive dancing in cafes like Audrey Hepburn in Funny Face
  
• Tall men in tailcoats and top hats and elegant women singing "The Night They Invented Champagne," as seen in Gigi
• All colors to be instantly saturated once I step off the train, as seen in Amelie
  
• Baguettes with pate

Last week, I went on my very first pub crawl with the Shakespeare society and met some hilarious people. It was also my first time outside of the campus.... a relief since I had been feeling a bit claustrophobic. We went to Leamington Spa, which was adorable, especially in comparison to Coventry. The Shakespeare society is putting on All's Well That Ends Well this semester and I plan on getting involved in some way or another.

Tomorrow night my entire Shakespeare class is going to Stratford-Upon-Avon to see Twelfth Night at the Courtyard Theatre. I see on my ticket that I will be sitting in row A of the gallery, meaning I can put my elbows up on the railing, which is my favorite thing to do in the theater... theatre.

My life here is Shakespeare-themed if you couldn't tell.

I don't really mind.


New discovery: watching X Factor is essential in English culture. Enjoying X Factor is not.

"Hey English friends...... I have a question."

What happens when your biscuit falls into your tea?

What do you do with all your 1p and 2p coins?

Is there a difference between Scotland Yard and the normal police?

What do Lords and Earls do?

Why aren't people wearing rainboots?

Where is that accent from?

Does everyone dip their chips into creamcheese?

Who's that?
What's that?
Where's that?
Why do people laugh at me when I say that?

That last one is in reference to the fact that English people think it's really funny when I say, "Holy crap!" -- Apparently, it's a pretty American thing to say.


I'm thankful for my friends here who put up with my annoying questions, and I don't know why they haven't killed me yet.

I'm trying to integrate some British words into my vocabulary, but unfortunately a lot of them sound very awkward with an American accent (i.e. "cheers," "wanker," and any other word with an "r" in it). Some words I am unwilling and unable to switch, such as:

• "Candy" for "sweets"
  
• "French fries" for "chips"
• "Chips" for "crisps"
• "Soda" for "drinks"

When I was little and my mom and I went to Wendy's, I asked for french fries, not chips. When I was tired and crabby, people would say, "Someone get Hannah some candy." Those words are just too engrained into my mind... I've been saying them basically since I learned to speak.

But I guess that's okay, because if I were to start using English words, I would lose my whole charming-American thing I have going for me.

My flatmate Bethan introduced me to Marmite yesterday, saying, "You either love it, or you hate it."


New discovery: I hate Marmite.

Solid breakfasts and gloomy Sundays, smoky towns and winding roads, green fields and red pillar-boxes

Classes have officially begun, which means I am now officially procrastinating.

My "modules" are as follows:

• Devolutionary British Fiction
• Shakespeare and Selected Dramatists of His Time
• Feminist Perspectives on Literature 
• Romantic & Victorian Poetry

The title of this blog is from a George Orwell essay, called "England Your England," which I am reading for... well, it can only be for one of those courses, can't it?

This last week brought some fun, some work, and some ego bruising. However, I have learned many valuable lessons, the most painful one being: do not show up to a lecture early and alone (or else you will sit alone while all the third-years file in with their huge groups of friends).

You know that Yael Naim song "New Soul?" The one from the Apple commercial? I keep singing it to myself... it's kind of appropriate:

I'm a new soul
I came to this strange world
Hoping I could learn a bit 'bout how to give and take.
But since I came here,
Felt the joy and the fear,
Finding myself making every possible mistake... lalalalalalala

New discovery: The British TV show Mock the Week is the best thing in the world.

The sports and societies fairs were held this week and I'm pretty excited about the ones I joined. Warwick Mountains (where are the mountains?) is having a social tonight, which should be interesting.... And next week I will go to the English Lit society social, as well as the Cheese & Chocolate society fondue night.

I'm still learning, but I'm slowly getting adjusted to living here. Pretty soon I'll start eating pizza with a fork and knife.

And everyone young going down the long slide to happiness

It's 9:45 am. I do not want to be awake right now. Unfortunately, my body doesn't really care what I want after the way I treated it yesterday.


Hey Wisconsin, I thought you were the drinking capital of the world.... not Coventry, England.

This past weekend, all my other flatmates moved in... and they are wonderful. We're still waiting on one person, but so far we have four English people, one Romanian, one Bulgarian, and one Californian =)

Oh... the title to this blog is a line from a Philip Larkin poem called "High Windows".... he's from Coventry, which is great... maybe I've stood in some of the same places he's stood.

Today is the day for inductions. The English department is inducting me, and throwing a party tonight. English party? How does that work? Maybe some poetry recitations...

My room has been decorated. Still accumulating little things though. I've got a Hokusai poster (the famous wave one), two pretty French posters, a To Kill a Mockingbird poster (which keeps falling down), and my favorite is my Ministry of Silly Walks poster which makes me smile every time I look at it.

The accents are still amazing... and I giggle whenever they say "jumper."