Roommates : Bah'ai

One late night Saturday, my roommate and I were deep in conversation when two guys started knocking on the neighbor's door. And continued. And continued. We peeked underneath our blinds to see what was going on and got caught. Finally, it's our door they were knocking on.
" Um, excuse us but could we borrow paper and pen? "
" Well, I don't know you " I said.
" It's Nicholas, Nico! "
" I don't know a Nico. "
" Well we're just trying to to leave a note for our friend. She's coming into town blah, blah, blah... Seattle... "
" Isn't that what phones are for? "
" Well he doesn't have one and I don't have the phone number. "
" This is kind of weird you know?"
" No no, we're non-threatening. We're bah'ai. Well, he is. "
" Ok, I don't care about your sexuality. "
" Ha no, it's a religion. We like three sexualities. "
I slowly got up to get an index card and pen. I opened the door.
" Do you have a sticky-note? "
" Dude, you're pushing it" said the other, " Maybe some tape? "
" No I don't. Put it in the screen door. "
I shut the door.

This has been a true story.
The End.

Roommates : BYOP

Although we have yet to have any dinner parties, parties or even friend movie times at our apartment due to our 'mononucleosis' and general anti-social behavior, this is what it would look like if we were to invite you over to share a plate of food.

Roommates : Oven Mit

Getting our ducks in our row has been quite silly. Gathering all needed utensils, tools and gadgets has led to some innovation and compromise. 

The Power of Strums

Jerome

Sometimes all you need is a whirlwind adventure to an abandoned high school and a drive through the Arizona desert.

Jerome 2013!

Oh yeah, and this happened

I fear stopping my education, that I won’t acquire continuous insights, random facts and weird foreign names. What if graduation means I don’t come across new books or pieces of art? I fear not being told stories, I fear not wondering about new things. What if I get stuck in my ways? What if I think I’m always right and there isn’t a professor to tell me I only put in a C-worthy effort? I fear the lack of stimulating conversation and goofing off.

Now my education is up to me. My graduation allows me to choose even more precisely what I want to know. But what if my personal education leads me astray, what if I become irrelevant? What if my personal education leads me to follow intellectual trends too closely and encases me in popular knowledge?

Now my education is up to me. Just as it is not up to me. Life isn’t going to toss me textbooks any longer. Life is going to toss me paying loans, dealing with human relationships and managing my multiple interests. Life is going to challenge me with new jobs and tasks. Life might even challenge me with stagnation and frustration. Life is my professor and I’m going to need a tutor.

Now my education is up to me. I’m pledging as a B.A., B.S. that I will continue to question and wonder about the arts and sciences. I write this with a sense of utopian exploration hoping that my personal education leads me to move forward, seek positive change and look for reasonable solutions. Because now, my education is up to me.

Showbama Your Support

As Flagstaff citizens crowded themselves into their downtown theatre, I realized that being in America is pretty darn awesome. Now while the ads, political scheming and the slightly extravagant months leading up to the eve of election day are more than obnoxious, the high spirits that reverberated through the musty room were exhilarating.

And then a dance party broke out.

Scrappy

As a new year starts it seems more clear that my previous one is leaving me behind. This continuous locomotive is pushing and trudging and pretty soon, before I know it it'll be time for me to get off of the B.A. Express. I can't help but hope that everything has mattered though, that my life and the lives of those I've crashed into are somehow shifted: by school, by work, by life and by love.

Because no vehicle of thought leaves a crash sight without a bit of leftover scrap metal underneath their skin.

My time in France is still a mystery; how that portion of time will affect me as my final year of organizing folders and writing on college ruled paper approaches and passes me by remains unclear. But I guess I'm ready?!

La France, tu me manques un peu.

Things Mildred Says and Does...

One month being back in America and a lot has changed. I've gone from stumbling over complicated French phrasing to yelling simple sentences at little old ladies. I'm so grateful to have my old job back working with seniors. I get to once again visit my 100-year-old lady (who is now 101!).

When I was showing her pictures of my life in France on my Mac I asked her, "Have you ever seen anything like this before?"
She replied, "Why I've never seen a photo-show-er like this, no."
She stumbled over that noun that she didn't know existed, computer.
L'ordinateur in French.

And these little phenomenons make me think that maybe life hasn't changed all that much. 

It continues.

It's still about exploration, and learning, and words, and photo-show-ers. 

Criks n Coolers

Patio livin' with Arnold Palmer coolers

Just do it : Add rum to the pre-made Arnold Palmer Arizona Tea.

Oak Creek, Sedona

There Ain't No Landscape Like a Flagstaff Landscape

Buffalo Park

There's magic in the fact that Flagstaff and the San Francisco Peaks are able to awe me all over again. 

Why I Still Love America...

Upon returning to the homestead, I expected extreme reverse culture shock. And while I'm still slightly surprised when people speak English at the ridiculously large SuperTarget, there are lots of reasons I'm happy to be home

- family, friends and the fellow hikers that smile and say "Mornin'" to you
- the fresh air of Flagstaff
- peanut butter and pancakes
- real hugs
- the promise of all the little projects waiting to be done...

And I think that the last point is where my blog will be headed; chronicling the life that continues to be a scavenger hunt. A hunt for laughs and interesting facts; good times with good people; weird recipes and craft projects; hikes and bikes and not-tripe. Whether or not anyone reads this, I've enjoyed logging away the memories and discoveries and realized that it doesn't have to be the end. I want to keep exploring, keep getting-to-know and keep hunting.

London Won't Stop Calling Me

I'm not quite sure what to say about London. It felt live-able, like it doesn't need an explanation. It is everything it promises to be : lively, cozy and never short of stormy skies.

Queen's Jubilee

Je Te Dirais 'A La Prochaine', Montpellier

Chère Ma Petite Montpellier,
These last ten months have been amazing with...

The dirty nights at St. Roch Church...

Surprising beauty...

The markets...

Tunisian treats...

And the best of friends...

Now my next part of my adventure sends me WWOOFing at a goat farm in the north of France.
Merci pour tout, a corner of my heart shall always be found here.
Love,
Rebecca

Je Veux Vivre Jusqu'à la Fin

I had to make an artsy-fartsy video for my art class. 

This was the result of a windy day, cold sea and some supportive crazy friends.

Part Four : Chimes of a Different Rhyme

In place of church bells, this is what chimes through the city of Istanbul five times a day.

Pasta Primavera

 

Post-beach, if you boil pasta in red wine, add tomato, onion, garlic, lots of basil and friends; you get a Montpellier Family Dinner.

The Ascent of the Wolf

It's been on my list of things-to-do ever since I knew it existed. Pic St. Loup is the highest point in the south of France and a steep hike to a glorious view.

Kip, Julien and I set out in the morning in search of a lush picnic at the top of this peak. Some winding roads, wrong turns and false trailheads we found our challenge. At 658 meters it's not quite the San Francisco Peaks but nonetheless impressionante throughout the Languedoc and Montpellier region.

Although the car rental was expensive and none-short of hidden fees, the views were priceless. The vista was rich with the Mediterranean coastline and the small vineyards that wind around its base.

There's nothing like a sunny landscape and a day in nature to reheat the winter in preparation for spring.

 Only in France is there a church at the summit...

A Circle of Misunderstandings Only to Understand

Once we understand that we don't understand we understand that we'll never understand and then, and only then, can we understand that the misunderstanding is the fire that can help us let go and feel free from the pressures of having to understand. Because in the end, we understand the misunderstandings in our own way and realize there's nothing to understand anyways. It just is; and it is all a big misunderstanding.

Un Vélo et Marché aux Puces

Salsa

The days are going by quick here. There never seems to be a day that doesn't go by without a festival, shopping trip, dinner or walk.

Emma and Sarah vogue-ing

Class Trash: Mussels and Wine

Today (Sunday), I bought a bike at a flea market. It's a stolen bike. A shit bike. But it was only 30 euro. There was haggling and there were old men getting all up in my grill demanding more money/less money/ bike adjustments/ warning me that I am going to die on the bike. To say the least it was an event that itself was almost worth the 30 euro. This bike is going to get me to the beach. It's going to take me grocery shopping and it might even take me on a countryside ride to a local vineyard. Overall, a good investment.

Oh, The Places We Will Go

The market was pretty insane and totally hip. It's in the 'ghetto' of Montpellier and lined with sellers and their sketchy vans. All the clothes, pottery, bikes, food, headlights, stolen shit is splayed out on the street and you are more than welcome to haggle with the snaggle-toothed men and women. I felt that taking my camera out to show y'all would've just become another item for sale. Nonetheless, it was fun. Some friends and I were able to find a streetcar to try some authentic Moroccan food, get some cheap shoes and proudly wobble our new bikes around town.


Every once in a while, I must say the humidity and simple things are running me down. A cold has been meandering through the group and it ain't so pretty. Some TLC would do some good but in a foreign country where you can't figure out how the washing machines work it's difficult. I had to hand wash my towels and after two days they still aren't dry. I'm glad I'm here still, I'm excited for my courses, I'm excited for my trip to Barcelona that is in the works, I'm glad that my dorm looks a bit friendlier and that I can hit the hay in safety.