Field trips and Fairy Tales: Day one

Since I am in Europe I get to see a lot of beautiful locals here, all of which have buildings that date back thousands of years. I love seeing these places that transport my imagination back in time to  a time of kings and their kingdoms. I recently went on  a trip with  a few of my friends here in france.  We went on a french country  side road trip that was one of the most beutiful  road trips that I have ever gone on in my life.

We managed to  rent a car for the trip for about eighty  Euros a day, and with  five people there with us it made the trip  insanely cheap to go on the original idea was for us to  just go to  a town called rocamadour, but it turned into so much more than that. It was an escape into the great unknown and new insight into the beauty of France.

I went with  Rodolfo, Hayley, Alex and Nora who are all friends of mine from the study  abroad program that I am currently on. Rodolfo was the one who came up with the idea, he had discovered Rocamadour some years ago and it has been one of his dreams for years now to  visit that ancient city built into the side of a mountain. 

It is something out of a fairy  tale that you would never expect to actually be built in real life.

Rocamadour is a good distance away from us about four hours by  car that making it a reasonable weekend trip for all of us. We set out friday afternoon to get where we were going. We had rented a room in the French countryside off of a website called Airbnb.com. On a side note if you have not had a chance to use this site yet and you are a traveller I would highly recommend it. The people that we ended up staying with were a fantastic with there accomedations and even gave us breakfast even though it was not part of the deal. They went above and beyond the call of duty  when we were at their place. It was a beautiful  little country home, with two dogs a cat and tow horses running around in the  yard. They had built the house on the land over the last three years and had placed it on Airbnb so to  get some income from the house itself. I even woke up early one morning so that I could go out there and take pictures of the sun rising out of the sea of mist.

Before getting to  our weekend home we stopped by  another town called Tolousse, a larger french city  not to  far out from  Montpellier. It is a is know as the red city  because most of the buildings there were all constructed with  bricks instead of the normal stones that are common place in France. We only spent a couple hours there though but the time we spent there was enough to give us a feel for what the  city was like. I have never seen anything like it, each building was read but it stood out against the others because of it's architecture that let it's personality  pop out from  the crowd of structures around it. the insides of the buildings were also amazing as well, we were fortunate enough to experience the wonders of the art that were inside of the buildings. 

We were able to  explore the open area of the town hall while were were there. As we walked through the high ceilings with art work that lined the wall all the way  to  the top. Even some of the ceilings were painted. They  were beautiful, the way that they  told stories and the the fact that there were mirrors on lining some of the rooms brings you into the artwork as well. It was really stunning.

Language

I have been in France now for over a month and it has been quite the adventure. I wish now that I brought a computer so that I could actually type a little quicker than with it just attempting to  type out some things on my phone. Although phones are a great way to maintain connectivity they are not conductive to actual long blog posts and make it difficult to  get some decent work done. Lucky for me I have a great Room mate named Ronny who was more than willing to let me type on his little tablet with a bluetooth keyboard it has worked fantastically. So I toast my glass to  you Ronny, Thank you.

Today I want to talk to  you about the beauty of language. The more I explore the world and learn of local customs and traditions, the more realizations that I have about how amazing languages are. First off I grew up speaking one language which was just English until I ended up serving a mission for my church in Argentina where I ended up learning quite a bit of the Spanish language, and now that I am studying abroad in France I have come to understand another language that I am  improving on as I learn to  speak the beautiful french language.

Language study has taught me so much and has helped me to  not only increase the people that I can talk to  but it has also helped me to understand my own in ways that I have never understood it before. I am not an English mayor in the slightest, my forte lies in Architecture and the beauty that comes with interior design, but that does not mean that I do not enjoy the English language. I enjoy being able to  communicate and I like the way that it sounds because it is familiar to me and is my  native tongue. However,  when you combine that understanding with the understanding of other languages you start to  get an appreciation for the little things that you notice about your own language.

English is a language that borrows a lot of it's words from other languages. I have heard it called a the bully because leads other languages into dark  alleys beats them up and steals whatever piece of language that happens to be in the pockets of the victim. Which as I study continually the other languages I come to realize how correct this is. English is primarily a Western Germanic language that has evolved over several thousands of years, the English we speak today is known as modern English and borrows a lot of its words from several other languages including both French and Spanish.

This fascinates me, I get to know my language better because I am learning from it's ancestry. There are little things in the English language that are so similar to  our own. Some simple ones that we now are complete knock offs that we just decided to  use in every day conversation, such as Au revior, lingerie, parfum and deja vu. That are easy to  pick out and help you to get a more comprehensive grasp of the way we speak. Then there are other that are not so obvious.

one such example was something that Ronny pointed out to  me as we were waiting for the tram. Whenever it is just a little ways off the sign that  announces the arrivals flashes proche, which in French means next. Ronny being bright and connecting two and two together points out to me that this is another word that we have taken from the french language and have mutated it to  our own liking. Now I know that Proche is not something that we ever use in the English language, but approach is a word.
In a moment of insightful brilliance that helped me to appreciate the beauty of the English language Ronny helped me see the connection that exists between these two beautiful languages.

I know it is kind of a geeky thing to  write about, but it is beautiful. I know two and a quarter languages now and that makes me happy! Those two and a quarter languages that I know help me to  communicate with people all over Europe and North and South America. They  help  me to  speak to people that I would otherwise never have been able to talk with because I now can express myself in a foreign way. And that is not even the  most awe inspiring part. I only speak two and a quarter languages; there are over seven thousand languages spoken on this world. seven thousand ways that people have developed in order to  express themselves. I know I only speak a tiny fraction of what is in the world today but I feel that by learning even just a little I am connecting more with the world around me and that is awe inspiring.

A Change of Plans: Part II

Last time a left you with an image of the house, that beautiful place I fell in love with the more I was allowed to explore it the more I wanted to keep it. Unfortunately it was not Phillipe's to give, he was only a guest. He was able to give us something to remember the trip.

Phillipe is a good man, one of the best people I have met. His intrests cover a broad range of topics from calligraphy to archeology .  He has worked as a frame maker and history teacher. So he has several trinkets that he has showed us from his personal collection, a lot of which are old printa that he has collected from all over the globe.

During the tour of the house he took us into the back courtyard that doubled as a workshop and storage area. This is where most of his personal items were stored and he even brought some of them out to let us peruse. One of the things he showed use we perfectly preserved newspapers from the year 1899. They were stunning with prints on both the front and back page. As we sat there in admiration of the papers in front of us our host handed us both a personal copy of those windows to the past. He said that they were for us to keep and that we could frame them when we got home.

I was speechless this was the one of the oldest things I have held in my life and this man was giving them to us. All I could say was thank you as I looked at the paper in wonder.

The front print of my newspaper showed the picture of a French general giving leave the the slave African army from their service. And the rear has a man plummeting to his death from a hot air balloon.  A little morbid, but I love it.

Phillipe is one of those men that likes giving gifts to people. He didn't stop woth just that but he offered to take us to the beach as well. This was the first time that I set foot in the Mediterranean sea.

It was a late evening when we finally got there and we were able to see the sun set into the ocean as we waded in the clear blue water.

There is also a city near by that is a touristy area called Le Grand-Mot. It was a city of landlocked white cruise ships. The architect who designed the buildings wanted it to be a place where people could escape to the sea while never leaving the land.

We walked around the city for a little bit exploring the forest of buildings that littered the streets that night. They all looked so free like ships tethered together, and at any moment one would sail away.

In the end we were able to learn so much about this new world we were in and we were given so many gifts that I will keep for years.

A Change of Plans: Part I

I guess a lazy Tuesday afternoon is as good as any day to catch up on some writing. I have been thinking long and hard about what to write on here because there is so much that comes with travel that rather than give you detailed play by plays of each of my days it is easier to tell you stories.

The first story I have for you involves getting lost, a new roommate and two gifts very gracious host.

As y'all are probably aware I am studying in Montpellier right now, evem though it has nothing to do with my field of study this trip has bestowed me with some enchanting insights into European culture and architecture. So studying a foreign language for no other reason than the fun of it has been paying dividends.

This particular day was a warm and welcoming Thursday on August 28th. We had all met up as a group so that our teacher Sister Carlus, who was born and raised in Montpellier could show us around a little and give us some pointers. I had already been there for a full day by myself and had gotten used to parts of the city. But it only being my second time really walking the city I was content with sticking with my group from school.

Around noon, when we had worked up an appetite we walked around the Polygone mall looking for something to satisfy our hunger. The group had stopped outside a small Patisserie called Paul and were waiting on some of the other group members to see if this was some place that they wanted to eat.

I did not have any money with me so I ventured off by myself to find an ATM that was rummored to be nearby by Meghan. I walked around the halls of the mall for to the sketchy back end of the mall, where I found what I was looking for. I quickly withdrew my money and hurried back to where I had left the group.

Upon my arrival the area was vacant.  I looked around that area for them, peeting into the bistros and cafes hoping that I would be able to join them for lunch. My search though was fruitless and I ended up eating a delicious eggplant quiche and an orangina from another small branch of Paul in the mall.

I walked outside of the mall and sat myself down on a short cement wall when along comes a silver bearded homeless man asking me for a cigarette in French. I know a little French but being new in a country makes it difficult to understand it and harder to communicate. Comically I tried my best to say "je ne parle pas de françias" which truned more into something like " Je ne pas parler francias." Eventually giving up and telling him "I'm American." That guy didn't miss a beat and in English asked "Do you have cigarette?" When I responded negatively he looked a little unhappy but then asked me if I had any alcohol to share. When I explained to him that I didn't smoke or drink I could almost see his spirit breaking. We sat in silence for a few minutes while I finished my quiche and then said my goodbyes.

Thoughts rolled around in my head wondering what I should do now. I had not plan besides getting my roommate at four but it was barely one in the afternoon. I headed home scratching my brain wondering where that group had gone off to but left because I had wandered the building now for an hour and odds where that they would have left by that time.

Once home I decided it was a good idea to leave the comforts of my apartment after a while an venture onward. I like walking and a stroll around the city seemed pleasant.  I made up my mind that I was going to look for the church building I would be going to on Sunday morning and after Googling the building I made my way down there and back.

I managed to get home just in time for my host, Phillipe to get ready and to go pick up Ronny. Who woyld arrive at the train station shortly. Phillipe wanted me with him because of the unfortunate circumstances that happened upon my arrival, but that is a story that I will have to tell you at some other time. Needless to say Phillipe did not want two of us lost in the city on our first days there. As was taken along for the pickup because I knew what Ronny looked like and he did not.

We got there and my host and I instantly split up; he took the upper deck of the train station while I stayed below on the platform. The train arrived on time to. The station and I kept my eyes peeled in hopes of catching the new arrival before he escaped with the crowd upstairs. Ronny made my job easy for me and rather than following the crowd blindly he decided to stay put and wait for someone to find him.

I imagine that I looked a lot like he did on that first day; tired, overwhelmed and having a certain air around you of being completely lost lucky for him though he was not left stranded for long; once the crowds parted I saw him guarding his luggage. I went over to him exchanging greetings and welcoming him to his new home.

It was a peculiar sensation doing that, it brought me back to the days as a missionary four years ago. Picking up new Elders and acting like you know everything about the area you were now together in. The truth was far from that though and I could only give him a few pointers and lead him to our host.

Phillipe was glad when I found him upstairs with Ronny in tow. He informed us that he needed to make one stop before heading back to the apartment. The place in question was the home of a friend which he would stay at occasionally and stored most of his personal items. Nestled away in a residential part of the city it wasn't much to look at but as the saying goes; you can't judge a book by it's cover.

The outside of the house was misleading the small exterior, almost by some sort of architectural magic, opened  to a spacious three story house complete with courtyard, patio and architecture studio. It was awe inspiring to say the least. Montpellier is an old city, dating back centuries and this house fit perfectly in place amonug all the history in this town.

The walls of the building were pieced together using cobblestone. The gray mortor binding together the stones that make up the majority of the was. The kitchen was to the right complete with an old cooking area, designed for cooking over an open flame and letting the smoke scurry out the chimney. The othet room on the first floor was a wonder to behold,  it was a mix between a library, a music room and a bed room. Books and instruments were spread across the whole of the room. There were pianos, violins and accordians scattered here and there. This was a family that loved music and would practice it often.

Beyond the foyer from the entrance there was a twisting stone stair case ascending up to the second story. It lead you to the sleeping areas of the house there were a total of two rooms and a bathroom on this story of the house. the biggest of the room had one of the most rustic grand fireplaces I have every seen. It knew it was a handsome specimen, because it was not content with being a wall flower; rather it sat spread out on the floor sharing it's beauty and warmth with all who were in that grand hall.

Normally I expect houses to end after the second story, but this house as beautiful as it was had more hidden in it. Our host showed us to a hand crafted spiral staircase. Built by the owner sometime ago this work of art was crafted masterfully by laying layer by layer thin wood onto each other to get the desired effect; each step would stick out of the center and be composed of several thin sheets each one shorter than the last. This allowed for a small inversed stair to be tucked away beneath each step.

These stairs lead us up to the third floor which was the loft. There was not nearly as many things in this part of the house, however there were some mattresses fitted with blankets and some old looking books arranged on the small night stand. Even with the lack of furnishings this part of the house had it's own charm thanks to the reliable but old beams that supported the floor as well as the roof above. They were a reddish brown sort of color and were big enough that you had to exert some effort to get around them.

The next surprise that this floor had for us was just outside. We had to cross small bridge and go through a small hobbit door to get there but tge view was worth straining our backs to crawl through. We ended up on the roof and despite the small passage here this was not a typical roof top. Where tiles should have been there was floor and we were greeted from above by hanging grape vines still bearing their fruits. It was a beautiful sight to see being able to look out on the town and seeing this gem tucked away among all the other timeless works of art.

The building itself was a work of art,  as was fitting considering that the owner was an old architect. His studio was right next to that roof top patio and still had his instruments inside. It was almost like looking into a museum display; the glass let us gaze at the old desks and drawing instruments which Ronny and I both soaked.

This house had made thw unexpected change of plans that I went through worth it. I wish that was my house there was such beauty contained within it's small unassuming exterior and just being able to explore it was a gift in itself.

Though our host was not quite done giving us presents. There was still more for us to do that evening, but to not make this a novel instead of the blog post that it is supposed to be I am going to split this into two parts which will appear later.

Promenade

The essence of the unknown beckons;
Anonymously she pulls from beyond.
Drawing me from the safety of the cemented facade.
"Come follow me" she whispers gingerly.
Then by the hand we join the parade.
Many others follow us along the winding roads.
A lady pedals along the cobblestone path;
treasures tucked away neatly in her basket.
A greasy man rolls his addiction tightly in paper and awaits his ride.
Young friends pass a ball amongst themselves and chatter away.
Light shines on the parade as it peaks through the glass bent into a spectrum.
We have become more acquainted and she is ready to give me her name; calling herself France.

Difference

the auick brozn fox ju,ps over the lqwy dog....

This is what happens when you try to type on a foreign computer by muscle memory. I am having a difficult time trying to acctually write this up blog without having to look down at my keyboard because of how the keys are arranged. They are switched up on me and it can be a little confusing, but here I am attempting to communicate with you via foreign means.the same

my experience out and about has been the exact same experience; I am in france right now and the more I explore the city of Montpellier I fumble with the differences that prevent me from effectivally communicating myself to the world around me.

Travelling has a way of putting things into perspective and opening your eyes to the world around you. I have deliberately put myself in a foreign situation knowing full well that I would be forced to take a stab at new things, the computer has just been one of many things that have presented a challange to me.

During the last four days I have been encountering new idea and new ways of thinking that are beyond my comprehension of the world. I have tried new food and wandered amoung old buildings dating back centuries.
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Montpellier is an old town, one that was founded back in the middle ages. The inner city is Marvelous example of what architecture was centuries past. I have stood in awe at some of the beautiful structures. There is so much history here that flows from evrey corner of the town.

I now understand why  the Frecnh claim they have the best food in the world because in ,y experience thus far it has been completly  true. the juices are pure juices recently squeezed from the fruits. the cheeses are plentiful and cheap enough that you don't suffer from buyers remorse when you try a new variety of fancy cheese. I tried quiches made with eggplant and a indian veggie patties. All of these have been foods that I have never tried before and I loved them.

All in all even though I am walking in a place that I don't completly understand, I do love it. being out of my comfort zone is exerlerating. foreign isn't bad; it is great. challenging yoàurself with new experience brings growth. a unique kind of Growth that you can only get by stepping outside of your comfort zone.

Full

It is one of those nights, I can't sleep and I don't know why and for some reason I cannot wipe a stupid grin from off my face. I am a little confused about it because nothing really good has happened recently,  no new news, no new relationship, nothing at all is really new in my life, but here I am awake after midnight smiling like crazy and I have no reason to actually be so happy. It has been a slow build up over the last few days. An over welming sense of hope and happiness has just been building up imside of me, so I had to write about it.
I am sitting uere listening to American Authors loving life and just feeling capable of conquering the world. I just keep thinking about how blessed I am and how awesome my life has been and how wonderful my life is. I can not complain really about how my life is, I am blessed and I know it. I know that I have made some greatchoices in my life that have lead me to where I am and I couldn't be happier.  Life is just funny that way, I am happy. I am happy for no reason.
No, not for no reason, I am hapy that I am alive! I am happy that I am me! That I have had so many wonderful opportunities both in the past and in the future. I am blessed and because of that I am full full of joy and happiness.