A wazungo there, a wazungo here

Hello all, and I am sorry about the long wait between this post and the last. When I first decided to write this blog, I had no idea how difficult it would be to find the time to write--between the classes from 7:30 am until 6:00 pm on weekdays and the field components on weekends, it can feel impossible to find any time to rest, let alone to reflect. But here I am on this lovely Saturday afternoon writing in the library, Kenyan coffee in hand, and am excited to try to put all that has happened in these last four weeks finally into words.

After my last blog post, we soon set off to our rural home-stay in Nyeri, a county located in Kenya's central highlands. As we drove away from the hectic energy of Nairobi and its suburbs, paved roads slowly transitioned to dusty dirt ones, and the landscape flowed easily from concrete building into the rolling and vibrant green hills of the highlands.

This is for you, Dad. 

Along the way to Nyeri, we spent the night at an estate together, overlooking a valley where giraffes, elephants, and antelope are known to graze in the early hours of the morning. The estate was own by a German family, who were extremely warm and welcoming, and yet the entire experience felt oddly colonial: us in beautifully furnished houses, perfectly stationed to observe wildlife, only a few miles from the children in raggedy clothes who waved to us with huge smiles as our bus barreled down the dirty road.

Still, the evening was wonderful, and we were all excited to savor our last night together before we embarked for our week alone.

Seven friends and I got to stay here -- SLU really does plush accommodations

Attempting to see wildlife out our window in the morning

Mt. Kenya peaking behind the clouds

After a night of sitting around the campfire with Kenyan beers, listening to Ella Fitzgerald albums on an old record player, and sleeping in sleeping bags around the fire place on our hardwood floors, we set off in our beloved St. Lawrence bus to meet our rural home stay families in the town of Tetu. Of course, it wouldn't be a KSP excursion without a little bit of bumps along the way -- it took us a good 30 minutes, but we eventually boarded our bus, feet covered in mud, and resumed our journey.

Along the way, we stopped to visit a family who were working with the Green Belt movement, an ecological political movement in Kenya to stop deforestation and conserve the natural wildlife. Our lovely host was missing a tooth in the front of his mouth from after loggers came into the area to remove an old growth tree a few years ago, and he stood in front of it and refused to move, earning him a mallet to the face. They were inspirational and awe inspiring, and with their help, we added a few new trees to their movement as well.

Finally, after a long day of travelling, we met our host families in Tetu at a local college. I lived with a family in the Eastern section of Tetu, who worked as farmers, and the father as a teacher at the local school. My family did not have running water or electricity, cooked their food over a fire on a mud floor, and used a hole in a separate building for a toilet. 

In my days there, I would wake up early in the morning, and help my mother wash dishes from the night before. Then we would hand-wash and hang the clothes, sweep the kitchen with a broom made of juniper grass, and finally wash the entire house with a rag and bucket of water. I really did not mind the work, and loved the opportunity to talk more with my mother. She commented frequently that I was very hardworking (to which I assumed she meant for an american), to which I responded "it comes easy. I worked in a restaurant before". I don't think she understood the joke. 

The first cultural difference I found with my family was the first night I arrived there, and my host father offered to show me around the shamba, or the household farm. While highlighting the banana trees, mangos, and macadamia nuts they grew, he asked what food my family grew at our house. 

I tried to explain jokingly how we used to grow raspberries and apples, before we lost interest in maintaining them, but do not grow any food anymore. My father asked, confused, how we got food to eat. I told him about supermarkets, and how we could eat mangoes even thought they were not local to Seattle. This concept was completely new to him, and he did not entirely understand it. He kept laughing, and told my host mother when we returned home that Emma Hennessey eats food not grown on the land she is from.

---

After working each morning, my host mother and I would usually walk to get milk from a friend a few houses down, saying hello to virtually every person who passed by, who somehow all seemed to know my host mother. "Mzungo!", or "white person!", they often would say to her, along with other Kikuyu words I could not understand. Mzungo was almost always said whenever someone saw me. It became my new name during that week. Small children who saw me walking by would scream, hide behind a tree or bush, and try to surreptitiously take glances at me when they thought I was not looking. If one was extremely brave, sometimes they would trie to reach to touch my skin.

When this first happened on the night I arrived, I asked my host mother why the children were so frightened of me. She told me that they were not frightened, but in awe. "Out here, " she told me, "we treat white people like they are gods".

I had spent the vast majority of my education trying to unlearn the myths of race: to see it as a social construct, nothing more, and while a crucial and important hegemonic force, ultimately, one that is only reflective of the melatonin in our skin, and nothing greater. I had the faint urge to regurgitate some Bell Hooks quote I read in class, like any pretentious college student would, but instead, settled with saying, "Why? Our skin is different colors, but that's it". My host mother responded, "It's because you are different. It's the same reason Americans must treat Black people like gods too, right?" I could not even think of a response, so instead I remained silent for the remained of our walk home.

Cows in Tetu-East

Nothing like a Kenyan sunrise

---

The world around me was so pristine, that it was hard to see it juxtaposed with such intense poverty. Children ran down the streets with bellies pertuding from their shirts from malnutrition, and I met young girls my age carrying multiple children in their arms who were already five or six. Older people hobbled using a stick as a cane, and my host mother shared three plastic cups for the entire family, saving food scraps from every meal in a cupboard in the kitchen. 

The gender politics were also extremely interesting for me while staying in Tetu: while my host parents clearly loved one another, it was assumed every night that my host mother would make dinner while my host father sat in the living room, and then together, she and I would bring him his food. While he was extremely kind and warm with me, he never said thank you. This ritual was assumed. My mother would call me every few minutes back to the kitchen, so I could help her with whatever she was doing. My host father, when he was home, was alway sitting.

When I told my host mother that in my household, my father and mother share household duties equally, she dumbfounded. My host father laughed, and said that was ridiculous. My host mother, in one of the saddest moments of my stay, looked down at her lap and said quietly, "Equality. That sounds beautiful". 

While there, I also went to church with my family, which was a strange experience in itself: I saw my good friend Meg from St. Lawrence who lived near the area, and made eye contact with her during the service when a West Virginian missionary, dressed in stereotypical African garb, made a speech to the congregation and handed them a $1,200 check. It was so awkwardly reminiscent of the area's colonial history, it was painful. He even filmed the entire service with his camera. 

I also went to Nyeri with my host mother and explored the street markets, visited my host father's school and met hundreds of local children, who made me sing and dance for them, and tell them what riding an airplane was like, and rode a motorcycle countless times down the mountainous roads as a form of transportation. 

I loved my experience in Tetu, and am so thankful I had the family I did. They were both incredibly kind, and it was difficult to leave them the next Saturday when I finally was reunited with the other 21 students from my program. 

 

Although it was only seven days, we screamed, cried, and hugged when our newly forming informal family was reunited. It was so wonderful to be with these friends who not only had the same experience from being from St. Lawrence University back home, but also the new ones in Tetu that no one else would be able to understand: the taste of arrow root cooked over a fire, of picking tea in your family's garden, and of every person you saw staring at you as if you were a mystical creature, or in other words, a white person; a mzungo.

The night we spent in the hotel that night was glorious: not only for the wifi, but also the adrenaline rush of feeling that after completing that week, we truly could do anything. We danced for hours in the bar outside, drinking Kenyan beer once again and blasting music from back home. We showered for the first time in days, ate Western food, and drank gin and tonics from the bar. Under the velvety blue sky, the same one I had looked up at thousands of times, with these news students who felt like family, it seemed like the entire world was at our finger tips and we had nowhere to go but everywhere. The night was warm, the hotel dance floor deserted except for us, and everything seemed possible. 

Until next time: Mzungo out.

KSP does safari

 

Heinekens and Mutatus

As I sit here writing this late Sunday afternoon, it is surreal and humbling that just three days ago I was with my mother at SeaTac airport on a cold Seattle morning, sleepy, nervous and excited, arms overflowing with baggage and backpacks and completely unaware of what awaited me in the days ahead.

Unlike the rest of my New England friends, I flew directly to our connecting flight in Amsterdam from Seattle, while they took a group flight from JFK. The 20 of them arrived three hours earlier than me and set off to explore the city for our twelve hour layover. I was expecting I would be unable to find them due to our inability to text one another, so instead I happily grabbed my camera and a journal, and took a train from the airport with the intention of exploring the city alone. Luckily, I was able to get a wifi connection at the airport while one of my friends was in an internet cafe, and met up with four of my St. Lawrence classmates at the Royal Plaza.





There we spent the day wandering the rainy streets while dodging the many bicyclists, drinking espressos in small cafes, and like any college students would do, touring the Heineken brewing factory. If you ever find yourself in Amsterdam, I highly suggest visiting the Heineken headquarters: between the disco rooms, brewing tours, and free beers, it is definitely worth the admission price. The city was rainy but I was happy. Like a true Pacific Northwestern-er, I find a strange sense of calm from damp sidewalks and gloomy skies, as if the looming clouds are a protective blanket. And a belly full of Heinekens made that even better.





Eventually, we made our way back to the airport for our 8 pm flight. There we found the rest of the SLU students at the terminal, all exhausted from the red-eye the night before and excited for our final destination after our next flight. We all passed out immediately once we got in our seats, and I can say I don't think I have ever slept so soundly on a flight with so much turbulence. My eyelids felt weighted, and I could not help falling asleep even while the passenger next to me began to introduce herself. One minute she was talking, the next we were soon to be landing.

Once we arrived in Nairobi, we all went through customs together. Our professor and program leader Matt Carentuto was waiting for us outside the gate, causing us to collectively yell his name in joy as we exited the sliding doors, elated with the comfort of seeing a familiar face in a strange place. We then all loaded our belongings on our large and dusty program bus, and started the journey to the compound where we would be living the next semester.

There is no better welcome to Kenya than a drive in a mutatu, or the Swahili word for bus. Our driver pointed to giraffes grazing in the park to the left of us as we sped down the road exiting the airport, not avoiding other cars but bumping them in the other direction when he wanted to move lanes. Everyone was walking. The sides of the roads were filled with pedestrians journeying somewhere, like they were marbles dropped from a box onto the floor. Even on the highway, from the side of the road to as far as I could see in either direction people were walking. As I peered out the window, I could see hundreds of Kenyans traveling to work, the cakey dirt under their shoes bright red as if stained with blood, and the trees overhanging the road a bright and polished green. This entire world was green.

After a 25 minute of so drive, we made it to our home in Karen, a lush, leafy, and wealthy suburb to the West of the city. Our campus was gated, as we were told was the norm in this area due to theft and other petty crimes. Once inside our compound, I was struck again by the extreme inequality I had seen in Kenya. While only a few moments ago we drove by Kenyans who were walking miles to factory jobs, our 5 acre compound was as beautiful as a tropical resort. There was so much vegetation and bright green grass, a beautiful student center and library, and even a volleyball net and basketball court.

The view from my window

We spent the day learning about the compound we would be living in, meeting the staff who worked there, and exploring the other facilities. We played volleyball and cards, and went to eat the food already prepared for us when the lunch bell was rung. The whole day felt oddly reminiscent of summer camp, and it was strange to think that in a few days we would start classes and actual school together as well.




After a wonderful night of sleep, we woke up early the next morning to explore Nairobi. To get to Nairobi, we took mutatus so as to learn the local public transportation system. Nairobi is a vastly growing city without the necessary infrastructure to support the population growth, making driving nearly impossible and busses the optimal transportation option. We split into groups of six and ventured down the road to the nearest bus stop.

To ride a mutatu, you hail a bus speeding down the road, and the driver will tell you if there is enough room and what the going rate is (usually 75 cents to a dollar). If there is room, you can find a seat, but for us, as I hear is common, the driver sped off before we had done so, causing us to grasp the seats so as not to fall down on nearby passengers. Music blared on the speakers, and pictures of Nicki Minaj and Jennifer Lopez covered the walls. We bounded off of bumps in the road, and I had to grab the rail in front of me so I did not completely fly off the seat. Passengers exited and entered the bus so quickly, I am amazed the driver was able to keep track of everyone's fares. Needless to say, by the end of the ride, I felt like I was getting off of a roller coaster.

Once we made it to Nairobi, my small group of six and our leader, our professor Matt, got of in the financial district and explored the city. We were told prior to our trip that one of the most dangerous aspects of being in Nairboi is getting hit by a car, and being in the city today I completely understood why. Cars sped wildly down the road without any apparent concern for hitting wandering pedestrians. They do not have the right of way in Nairobi. Instead, you have to be aggressive and cross the street when you have time, aware that even when the sign is flashing you are not safe from a oncoming vehicle.

Getting curry at a local restaurant

The view from our eating spot

I was glad for my experience living in a city while being in Nairobi, something many of my classmates who are largely from small towns in New Hampshire and Vermont have not had as much of. Especially after living in San Francisco, I feel comfortable being in cities by myself and navigating my way. Still, I was not fully prepared for what it would feel like to be in Nairobi. While I was aware that the city was cosmopolitan while also being in a developing country, I was not fully prepared for the children who would ask you for money with a bottle of glue held to their nose, the drug the only way the could deal with their hunger. My heart ached for them as they followed us, tapping my shoulder and completely stoned, asking for money as you had to look at your feet and continue on. I was not fully prepared for the intense inequality I saw. For the businesses all protected by armed guards, as starving beggars sat on the sidewalk in front of them. Wealth seemed so gated in Kenya. While this is the case in the United States as well, it was made even more intense in this country by the fact that it seemed almost all spaces for those with money were separated by electric fences like our compound was, and almost always by men with machine guns. The message was clear: this is a space you only are welcome to if you belong.

After exploring the city for a few hours, we met up with the rest of our program and saw where we would be taking classes at the University of Nairobi in a few short days. Then we had the chance to visit a lookout on our way back to the compound, and snap a few pictures of the Nairobi skyline.





Now I am back at our compound once again writing this, still very jet lagged but so exited to be here. In a couple days we leave for our rural home-stay, a weeklong trip to a farming community in Northern Kenya where we will all be living with separate families who largely do not speak any English. I am excited to see the world of the Kikuyu people which is so vastly different to life in Nairobi, but also nervous as well. Being without technology or anyone I know for seven days is something I have never done before. But I am sure it will be rewarding.

Here is a poem I wrote last night on my first night in Nairobi, completely sleep deprived but with the burning need to put thoughts to paper. Heres to the first days in Kenya, and the journey that awaits in the weeks ahead!

So I saw my first slum today.
Almost as important as
your profile picture with nameless children
at that hospital
is the moment you see poverty
so violently different from the
kind you know that
it
changes
you.

Life experiences are different
than reading about things in books
they say
and I wonder as we listen to Adele
in our bus, pointing out the windows
at the tragedy:
blood stained dust, tin roof worlds,
Aquafina bottles floating in murky puddles,
children in Seahawks sweatshirts
(the same one I own)
sitting behind real and metaphorical walls
watching us drive by
if we or they
will say
this place
changed them more.

SLU Kenya Semester program Spring 2016!

If the answer is no, can I change your mind?

So, this is it. My final 3 days in Switzerland. Realizing that this extraordinary journey is finally coming to an end can be described in no other words than simply surreal. I am still not able to wrap my mind around it. Unlike when I left America just 11 months ago, I do not know when I will see these familiar faces again that are now part of my life, or when I will walk the streets that have become my home. But that is the magic of exchange. Although this year was wonderful and unbelievable in every way, it was simply unreal. It is a year slipped in between the seams of your life. You are able to leave your home and surroundings for one short year, and have the most amazing adventure of your life. And for those short, sweet 11 months, time simply stops. And you just enjoy the ride. I knew the whole time that eventually, this experience would have to end. And I would have to make my way back to reality, as if this entire year never happened, and know that the people in my life back home would never truly know how much this year has changed me. I just didn't know the end would come so soon.

I am so thankful for this experience. Over the course of this year, I was able to see places that I have only read about in books. I lived in EUROPE. I was able to meet people who I never would have met before, and who were simply extraordinary. I learned about a completely other culture, and the people who fill it. I learned that people from all over the globe truly just are people, and the only true differences we have are cultural. And when you can get past the cultural differences, we really are all the same. But most importantly, I learned about myself.

I learned how I act when faced with adversity. I saw how brave I can be, and what values I now know I stand for. I learned how to do what I know is right, even when others disagree, and I discovered who I truly am. I now know how I wish to impact our world. I gained a sense of confidenc, and a willingness to try whatever comes my way. And I have made some of the best friends in my life. This year has changed me more than I ever would have imagined. I feel like the person I was getting on the plane to Zurich is only but a refraction of who I am today.

But as I like to think of it, I don't think I changed that much this year; I think I just finally became who I really am.

Am I a different person now? Yes. Of course. But I think who I became isn't someone new, but a part of me I have always had inside of me. An exchange year isn't just a year in your life, it is a life in a year. I don't think we change as much as exchange students as much as we become more of ourselves. I was able to grow up and experience so many wonderful things in such a short period of time, and learn about the world.

But even more, I have

• learned to ski
• read 8 books in German
• learned French
• been to my first even hockey game
• rock climbed 30 meters in the air
• survived a -20 degree celcius winter
• played guitar for money in the streets
• been able to understand and participate in a German school
• eaten real swiss fondue, raclette and so much chocolate
• ridden trains for hours and hours
• BECOME FLUENT IN GERMAN :))))
• learned Swiss German
• learned how to ice skate
• conquered my fears, and dived from 8 meters into Lake Zug
• learned how to eat lunch for 1 franc a day
• hiked the Rigi, Pilatus and Wildspitz
• watched so many German movies
• open a Swiss bank account
• got a real Swiss watch
• woke up at 2 am to go to Swiss Fassnacht (like Mardi Gras)
• gone sledding in the Alps
• learned Zurich like the back of my hand
• missed my train ride home multiple time
• ...but always found a way back to my house
• become a master of riding my bike in downtown Zug
• <- and never got hit by a car doing so
• been able to communicate with people without being able to speak the same language
• become immune to embarrassment
• seen the Philharmonic Orchestra
• been to Rome
• been to Venice
• been to Nice
• been to Paris
• been to Berlin
• been to Litchenstein
• been to almost every Kanton in Switzerland (and city as well)
• become able to fake being Swiss
• been completely and utterly lost
• explored castles, and churches that are hundreds of years old
• cried, laughed, screamed and smiled more than I ever have before
• have multiple families now, and none of them are related to me
• made best friends, who don't speak the same language as me, and one who do, but live on other sides of the world
• had the most amazing, wonderful, crazy and thrilling year of my life

I can not believe the amounts of people who have shown nothing but kindness to me, and for that, I will always be grateful. All my host families, who went above and beyond to make me feel not like a guest, but like a member of the family. My teachers, who took the extra time to make sure I felt like I belonged, or who put in the extra work to translate things into English, when I didn't understand. The Rotarians, who were always so kind and funny, and made me feel loved. And most importantly, to my Swiss and American friends, who truly made this year so remarkable. I will miss you all more than you will ever know.

But I will miss this truly beautiful country most of all.

Here is a video I made of all the clips I have taken on my camera this year. I think it will show better than I could describe, just how wonderful this year was for me.

I can't believe I am leaving this magical adventure on Monday, but somehow I am ready. Dorothy eventually has to go back to Kansas, and the Penvesies can't stay in Narnia forever. I am excited to see my family and friends again, and am ready to move on with life, but I wil always carry this year with me. Because Switzerland wird IMMER meine heimat Land sein. Ich liebe der Schweiz, und ich werde dieses Jahr NIE vergessen.

I just can't believe it is almost done...

I will miss being an exchange student. I will miss Switzerland. I will miss Switzerland so much.

Watch the video :)))) to make it larger, move your mouse over the video, and then click where it says "Youtube" in the lower right-hand corner, or the icon with the four corners. I hope you like it!

 

Starring: Laura, Phoebe, James, Elle and Sienna--the best friends I could ever ask for. This adventure of a year would not have been possible without you five. I will miss you guys most of all.

Zug Girls (and boy) forever, yeah?

The beginning of the end...

I realize I have not written a blog post for a long time now, and I'm sorry for my procrastination. Things have just been going by so quickly, it is hard to keep my head in one place, nonetheless write a blog post. While my head was turned the other way, May flew by, and by the time I turned around again, it was already June. I still am reeling at how quickly the time has gone by. I am already in my last month of my exchange, which was something that seemed unfathomable just a few months ago.

After I returned from Berlin with my class, the Seniors at our school graduated, and threw an insane party for all the teenagers at in our Kanton (unfortunately named "LSD", for "Last School Day"). They brought speakers and silly string to school, and would dump underclassmen in ice baths or spray them with beer as they tried to walk to lunch. I unfortunately know one of the Seniors who was in charge of the beer spraying, so of course I got an extra dosage in my hair. Yuck.

During our school holidays, my friend Kelsey and I decided to trek out to the french speaking part of Switzerland to visit the famous Castle of Chillon, which some of you may recognize from the back round of this blog earlier in my exchange. The castle was stunning, and sat on Lake Geneva, which borders France and is surrounded by the gorgeous French Alps. In our trip we learned that the castle was once one of the largest prisons for witches in the Middle Ages, which I had no idea of before. Who knew Switzerland was the witch capital of Europe? A little sad, but also really interesting!

I love Switzerland!

Goofing around in the witch's prison

One of the most iconic images of Switzerland (from Google,
I take no photo credit)

And of course, with the end of May also came the end of many of my friends' exchanges. We decided to have one last meeting of all the exchange students at Enge Park, a park in Zurich where we all have so many memories of being with each other already, of lazily eating or hanging out on a Sunday afternoon. We all brought our flags to sign, and spent the warm afternoon together one last time, before we all would begin to go home.

Signing the best flag in the world!

The weather in Zug has been wonderful these last few weeks, so I have began riding my bike everywhere. I ride to school everyday, to the lake, and even to visit Elle in Risch to go swimming, which is a good 20 km away. I'm feeling very Swiss with my biker legs and sock tan line! I also have been going to the Zug Football team's games, which Elle and Sienna cheerlead for. I will say that it is probably not as exciting as when Americans play it back home, but still fun to watch. C'mon, Italian speaking Swiss playing against German speaking Swiss in American football, if that is not a cultural exchange, I do not know what is.

Visiting the Lenzburg Castle with my host family

Hanging with Swiss friends by the lake (and James, who looks
very goofy in this picture)

Swiss football! And American cheerleaders!

The saddest news of these last few weeks has been that they are the last ones for Laura, who goes back to New York this Friday. She has been like an older sister to me and a dear friend my entire exchange, and I am still in denial over the fact that I have only four more days with her. We decided to throw her an end of the year party at my house last weekend, where we swam in the lake and talked about everything we have learned this year (and also made her a surprise cake for her 19th birthday!). We also had our final Rotary meeting of the year in Lugano, where every exchange student wore their blazers and stood behind their host country's flag in a parade. There was a lot of crying and reminiscing, but also a lot of smiling for the life changing year we all got to have together. With everything seeming to come to an end, I can not help but always be smiling too. What a year we had.

Laura was surprised with her cake!

My friends being einfach crazy

Zug Girls in the Rotary Meeting--Australia and the US

American exchange students in District 1980!

The original four--together in the beginning, together until the end

Can you spot the two Americans?

My class (and Laura) on our trip to Berlin. I love you 4E, and it has been so great having you for a class! Music majors know whats up :-)

France and Germany!

This is one of the things I love about Europe, and Switzerland in particular: how many times can you say that you have been to FOUR different countries in two weeks? Well I can now, after my two lovely trips to France and Germany!

When I got home from my fantastic week in Italy, I had three days left of Spring Break in Zug before I would leave for France. Zug was absolutely beautiful that week! It was around 80 degrees every day, and the sun was shining from morning until night. I spent most of my time on the lake near my house, or tanning on the beaches of Lake Zug with my friends. One day, Laura and Sienna and I took the peddle boats out on the lake, and Zug looked about as picturesque as I have ever seen it.

Lovely Laura infront of Old Town Zug

Pulling a Titanic moment

Sienna infront of the Alps

Sienna and I also took a day together to hike the Rigi, which is Zug's most famous mountain. You can see it in the picture above--it is the largest mountain in the picture, and a little curved on the top. It was a beautiful and refreshing hike, and the view was incredible. We could see Lake Zug and Lake Luzern at the base, and the Alps, which seemed to stretch on to infinity. I love the Alps so much, and know already how much I am going to miss them. Really, is there any prettier place on Earth?

This picture doesn't even do it justice. I love Switzerland!

Then, while the rest of my friends were preparing to go back to school, I was packing to meet my Aunt in France! On Saturday, I took the train by myself to Geneva, where I loaded my plane to Nice. It was a strange experience for me, since it was the first time I have ever gone to an airport by myself, but everything turned out fine. I flew EasyJet, which is probably the most hassle-free experience I have ever had flying before. It was 20 Euros for my ticket, and they never even asked to see my pasport. The whole process took 25 minutes, and they didn't even ask to see my ticket until I boarded my plane. We didn't even have assigned seats!

One hour later, I met my Aunt in the Nice Airport. It was such a surreal feeling to see her! I haven't seen a family member for 8 months now, and I felt like I was dreaming when I finally saw her face. It was strange and yet wonderful being able to talk to her about things from my other life, like this whole year had never happened, and I was the same person I was when I left. I really missed her, and it was great to talk to someone about the things no one is Switzerland knows about, and the things I miss the most: my home, and my family.

We stayed in a villa in Nice with three of her friends for two days, and it was so quaint and lovely. The flowers were blooming and the air always smelled like summer. We spent the first two days exploring our small town, laying by the pool and having wonderful French dinners. I even tried duck! On the last day, we went to downtown Nice and enjoyed the wonderful weather by the ocean and walked along the boardwalk. I understand why the French call it the "Cote Azur" now, because the water was as blue as the Caribbean, and stretched until infinity. 

The view from our villa

The old village, where we spent most of our time

Historic Nice

A view of Nice's beach

It goes on and on and on...

The Mediterranean Sea!

My Aunt having a drink with me on the beach

After our three days in Nice, my Aunt and I flew to Paris, where we would stay for two nights. How can I try to even explain Paris? It was everything I hoped and dreamed it would be, and just how one imagines it in their head. We ate at small cafes and wandered the cobblestone streets, and I felt like I was in a movie. It was so much fun being able to explore this city with my Aunt Marcy, because she is such a easy person to travel with and is always up for an adventure. We went to the Eiffel Tower together, saw the Notre Dame and went on a boat tour on the Seine. Our hotel was in a beautiful location in the Latin Quarter, and there was a wonderful night life around there with bustling restaurants  and shops. My trip to Paris was short, but definitely one of my favorite parts of my exchange, and I enjoyed every minute. Now I know I need to come back one day to see more of it!

We got to go to the Eiffel Tower!

And walked down the Camps-Elysees! (I kept singing the song
the entire time...sorry Marcy)

The Notre Dame

Our boat tour on the Seine

We got stuck in another protest--this one was full of socialists.
I got a picture under the Communist Flag, just
for you Dad!

So many bridges in Paris, and they are all
so beautiful

The most beautiful city in the world

The street of our hotel--tons of cool restaurants!

Paris at sunset

BERLIN

(you better pronounce it "behr-leen" or else Swiss people will have no idea what you are talking about. "Berlin? Oh! You mean 'Behr-leeeennn'"....haha)

I am so glad I was able to participate in this awesome trip with my class, thanks to Rotary, who helped me pay for it. My class went to Berlin for a week to study music, art and history, and it was such a once in a lifetime experience. My exchange friend Laura also came with us, since her class is going on their trip after she goes back to America.

Berlin was an interesting, and amazing city. It wasn't beautiful, it the sense of Paris, or Rome or Venice, but in a different way. Berlin has a bustling center full of skyscrapers and museums and modern architecture, and is very much an alive city, but also has some parts that still cary a sort of sadness from it's tragic history. The Berlin wall is still intact in some places of the city, as well as bunkers and stations for watching people who wanted to flee to West Berlin. One of my favorite things about Berlin, however, is the talent it has of turning sad, horrible things into things that are truly beautiful. The walls of the building that were burned or destroyed have been turned into modern art projects. The space between the two Berlin walls are now parks, and an abandoned air field is now a place where people can bike or jog on the landing strip. Berlin has found a way to become a metropolis, while also remembering the tragedy of it's past, by keeping old monuments like watch towers or bunker as part of the city landscape.

Some of my favorite parts of our trip were taking an 8 hour bike tour through the city, visiting museums, and going up the Berlin tower. We had a lot of free time in Berlin, and our teachers let us go where ever we wanted on the subway, as long as we were back in our hotel by 12. My friends and I got to go to the philharmonic concert and a Berlin jazz club, as well as some bars and cafes together. It was a great week, and I really got to spend some time bonding with my class.

Laura and I on our bike tour--riding for EIGHT hours. We
were all so tired by the end!

My class on an abandoned airport landing strip

We got to eat at an "American" diner one night.  It was so much fun,
but I had to lie to my class and say that the food was good,
when in fact, that was the worst milkshake I have had in my LIFE.
I think Germans should just stick to bratwurst.

The Brandenburg Gate

The view of Berlin from Postdam Platz

You can see the Berlin tower in the distance! We went to the top,
and it was very cool.

Before our philharmonie concert

A piece of the remaining Berlin Wall

A preserved watchtower and gate, that were used to stop people
from escaping to West Berlin

Our boat tour on the River Spree

The German Parliament building

Our Modern Art museum

Our trip to Berlin was not only informational, but also very fun. I had a great time with my class, and our teachers were very nice too. They even took us to a bar one night and bought us all some drinks, which my class thought was totally normal, but was a very strange experience for me and Laura. When would something like that EVER happen in the US? You gotta love Europe! We got to try bratwurst and currywurst, and Berlin pretzels and ride the famous Berlin subway sytstem. My class really loved seeing the skyscrapers in downtown Berlin, and they were so excited when we got to take an elevator to the top of one.

For me and Laura, it was no big deal at all, since the building was probably smaller than the Columbia Tower. But to my class, it was a huge deal, since the biggest building in Switzerland is probably ten stories tall. I thought it was cute, but also an interesting cultural difference between our two countries that I had never really thought of before. Of course they would be excited to be in a city with buildings that are newer than 500 years old, because that is something they don't have in Switzerland. Even Berlin's tower, which is probably one of the most famous monuments in Germany, is smaller than the Space Needle. I find it funny how Americans all dream of going to historic cities like Paris or Rome, but my Swiss friends just want to see newer cities like New York or LA. I guess we all want what we don't have, right?

I just got home this morning, after an 8 hour ride in a night train, which was an interesting experience in itself. If you haven't ridden one yet, I would really suggest trying it sometime in your life, because it was definitely a new experience. I was in a small cabin with two sets of tripple layered bunk beds with some girls in my class. It was a tight squeeze and in now way comfortable, but it was also fun and a new adventure, and a good way to make the 8 hour ride go by quicker. We just pretended we were on a ship like in Pirates of the Caribbean, which was easy to do, since our train was swaying the whole night.

My Berlin trip ends my wonderful three weeks of travel, and tomorrow, I sadly have to go back to school. Luckily, it is only a three day week because of some Catholic holiday on Thursday, and Wednesday is the last day for our Seniors, so the whole school gets to have a day of activities and on Tuesday night a huge party in a club. I'm really excited, but am going to be so tired on Wednesday morning! Speaking of tired, I am still exhausted from my lack of sleep last night, and need to take a quick nap before my host family takes me to that movie about Aung San Suu Kyi tonight. Happy Mother's Day everyone, and I'll be writing again soon! 

Happy Mother's Day Mom, if you a reading this. I miss you so much, and seeing you again on July 9th will be the best birthday present I could ever ask for. I love you!