A view of the ocean from San Sebastian, Spain! This weekend I went on an excursion with the rest of the students who are studying abroad. We went to Bayonne and St. Jean-de-Luz, both of which are French Basque towns. We also went to San Sebastian, Spain - my first time en Espagne!! It was… well… you shall see: First of all, it was pouring rain when I stepped off the bus in Bayonne on 10:30 Friday morning, and I have not been fully dry since then. It rained ALL WEEKEND. Harder than I have ever seen it rain in my life. It even beats Maine - the previous recordholder. It was incredible. I was soaked to the skin every time I went outside. There was nothing for it: if you were planning on walking somewhere, you just had to accept that you were going to get wet. In spite of the rain, however, and the fact that I have not been warm or dry for at least 36 hours, I had a good time!! San Sebastian and its beaches are equally as beautiful in the misty, overcast weather as they are in the sun - albeit perhaps a different kind of beauty. The downtown area was really lively and interesting, and I spent most of Friday night there, after a guided walking tour of the town. The worst part about the weekend wasn’t even the rain - or the fact that our hotel’s water pressure got thrown off by all the rain, meaning that we couldn’t shower or even flush our toilet. The worst part was being thrown into ANOTHER foreign country, and this time, I had NO IDEA how to speak the language! I’ve barely begun to adjust to living in France, and there I was in Spain making a complete fool of myself all over again.  At one point on Friday night I decided to go try out the tapas experience. Tapas are the little appetizer-style things that are usually heaped on plates around a bar, and you pay 1 or 2 euros each for them. Spanish people don’t eat dinner until 10 PM, but they usually hang out in the tapas before then, eating and drinking and talking. They always stand up, too, and they usually move from bar to bar instead of staying in the same place. So, I went into the first bar and, feeling very intimidated, tried to speak some weak Spanish (unsuccessfully). The bartender spoke a little English, and he was really nice and understanding, so I sort of relaxed. I tried an omelette-style thing that had PIG’S EAR in it… because I believe in trying everything! It was really good. It tasted more like mushrooms than meat. I left the bar feeling slightly better about being somewhere where I don’t speak the language! Then I went to a different bar and clearly could not speak with the bartender! However, there was a really nice and very old man sitting there who translated for me, and he even told me that he would ask the bartender to heat up my tapas for me if I wanted him to. I thanked him and then went over to a table and ate and drank some Sangria - which was delicious! I had to try it, I was in Spain - and as the old man was leaving, he passed my table. He asked me, “Where are you from?” (you know - THE question, haha), and I said, “I’m American.” He seemed really surprised when he heard that, and then he said, “I think your people are the worst informed people about their politicians and their international involvement. This war - you must react against!” And then I just felt bad! He had been so nice to me before that moment - and I was trying to be as polite and nice in return! But what can you do, right? I only nodded and gave him a concerned look. With our language barrier, I could hardly figure out how to tell him that I agree with him and that I try as hard as I can to be well informed! Then he told me that Arizona and Chicago are Basque words. Arizona means “good old oak” and Chicago means “child goes over the mountain.” I wished that I could tell him that I was from Nevada, and I have Basque friends, but alas, I was afraid of offending him with my American-ness. And he just walked off.  Anyway, I know I am too sensitive, but stuff like that really hurts my feelings. I know that the only thing I can do is try to be as nice and polite as possible! So that’s what I tried to do. The irony is that everyone is France has been really nice to me!! Even in the produce incident, people were somewhat understanding and very patient. And yet, people in America say that all French people hate Americans, and are rude!!! I guess the moral of this story is that every country has its misconceptions.  Hmm. There is so much more to say about this weekend! But I am FINALLY dry and clean, and since I’m now getting sick due to my exposure to the elements this weekend, I think it’s time to go to bed. I will update more soon, and post some more pictures!!!! Missing everyone. <3 Love, Leanne

A view of the ocean from San Sebastian, Spain!

This weekend I went on an excursion with the rest of the students who are studying abroad. We went to Bayonne and St. Jean-de-Luz, both of which are French Basque towns. We also went to San Sebastian, Spain - my first time en Espagne!! It was… well… you shall see:

First of all, it was pouring rain when I stepped off the bus in Bayonne on 10:30 Friday morning, and I have not been fully dry since then. It rained ALL WEEKEND. Harder than I have ever seen it rain in my life. It even beats Maine - the previous recordholder. It was incredible. I was soaked to the skin every time I went outside. There was nothing for it: if you were planning on walking somewhere, you just had to accept that you were going to get wet.

In spite of the rain, however, and the fact that I have not been warm or dry for at least 36 hours, I had a good time!! San Sebastian and its beaches are equally as beautiful in the misty, overcast weather as they are in the sun - albeit perhaps a different kind of beauty. The downtown area was really lively and interesting, and I spent most of Friday night there, after a guided walking tour of the town.

The worst part about the weekend wasn’t even the rain - or the fact that our hotel’s water pressure got thrown off by all the rain, meaning that we couldn’t shower or even flush our toilet. The worst part was being thrown into ANOTHER foreign country, and this time, I had NO IDEA how to speak the language! I’ve barely begun to adjust to living in France, and there I was in Spain making a complete fool of myself all over again. 

At one point on Friday night I decided to go try out the tapas experience. Tapas are the little appetizer-style things that are usually heaped on plates around a bar, and you pay 1 or 2 euros each for them. Spanish people don’t eat dinner until 10 PM, but they usually hang out in the tapas before then, eating and drinking and talking. They always stand up, too, and they usually move from bar to bar instead of staying in the same place.

So, I went into the first bar and, feeling very intimidated, tried to speak some weak Spanish (unsuccessfully). The bartender spoke a little English, and he was really nice and understanding, so I sort of relaxed. I tried an omelette-style thing that had PIG’S EAR in it… because I believe in trying everything! It was really good. It tasted more like mushrooms than meat. I left the bar feeling slightly better about being somewhere where I don’t speak the language!

Then I went to a different bar and clearly could not speak with the bartender! However, there was a really nice and very old man sitting there who translated for me, and he even told me that he would ask the bartender to heat up my tapas for me if I wanted him to. I thanked him and then went over to a table and ate and drank some Sangria - which was delicious! I had to try it, I was in Spain - and as the old man was leaving, he passed my table. He asked me, “Where are you from?” (you know - THE question, haha), and I said, “I’m American.” He seemed really surprised when he heard that, and then he said, “I think your people are the worst informed people about their politicians and their international involvement. This war - you must react against!”

And then I just felt bad! He had been so nice to me before that moment - and I was trying to be as polite and nice in return! But what can you do, right? I only nodded and gave him a concerned look. With our language barrier, I could hardly figure out how to tell him that I agree with him and that I try as hard as I can to be well informed! Then he told me that Arizona and Chicago are Basque words. Arizona means “good old oak” and Chicago means “child goes over the mountain.” I wished that I could tell him that I was from Nevada, and I have Basque friends, but alas, I was afraid of offending him with my American-ness. And he just walked off. 

Anyway, I know I am too sensitive, but stuff like that really hurts my feelings. I know that the only thing I can do is try to be as nice and polite as possible! So that’s what I tried to do.

The irony is that everyone is France has been really nice to me!! Even in the produce incident, people were somewhat understanding and very patient. And yet, people in America say that all French people hate Americans, and are rude!!! I guess the moral of this story is that every country has its misconceptions. 

Hmm. There is so much more to say about this weekend! But I am FINALLY dry and clean, and since I’m now getting sick due to my exposure to the elements this weekend, I think it’s time to go to bed. I will update more soon, and post some more pictures!!!! Missing everyone. <3

Love,

Leanne