Listening to Bon Jovi and cheering for Tiger Woods

So we meet again, Mr. Blog. It's been a while since I've seen you, and as far as I can tell, it's been a while since you've seen me. We both know we don't like each other, but hey, we've seen how K-Fed and Britney..wait, no, Bobby Brown and Whitney Houston..oh, bad example. Maybe Kurt and Courtney? No, more like Sonny and Cher...well, shucks, Mr. Blog, I can't find a good example of people who clearly shouldn't be together making a relationship work. But I think ours will be different, so let's give this a try.

As for life in the past 3 weeks, things have been trudging along slowly but surely. I had an exciting trip to Krakow with Dan, Chris, Robert, and Melinda. It was like a strange St. Pius X/Bishop Lynch reunion of kids who all know each other through different channels and who have, for the most part, changed greatly since first meeting one another. I think we all had an excellent time just from each others company. However, the city of Krakow was rather nice, and we really enjoyed the favorable exchange rate (~4.5 zloty or cazzos, whatever they're called, to 1 euro). Eating occurred in large, sometimes grandiose sessions. Although it was time consuming, this was definitely a trip where the food was worth spending time on. The pierogis, meats, salads, and whatever the heck else we could find were incredibly delicious. Of the 3 pastries I purchased, 1 could be classified as delicious, 1 as decent but not-as-tasty-as-it-appears, and 1 as unidentifiable. In spite of this minor culinary setback, it fails to take away from my overall taste-bud satisfaction with my (1/4) motherland of Poland.

On the Sunday of our long weekend, the group went to the 2 concentration camps collectively referred to as Auschwitz. I found this to be an extremely moving place, with the barrenness of the camps perhaps adding to the overall effect. While I expected the camp to be depressing, I was surprised at the magnitude of the feeling while visiting. The barracks were as bare as imaginable, with boards of wood serving as the bedding for prisoners. Most of the extermination chambers were destroyed as the NAZI's realized defeat was imminent, but one remained at the original camp. In the one remaining building that was used for this purpose, there were several rooms that served as gas chambers and also what appeared to be 2 furnaces. Incredibly enough, the structure was used for other purposes later in the war in an attempt to cover up the atrocities that occurred there. Furthermore, the destroyed remains of the extermination chambers at Auschwitz-Birkenau were left in tact, and the haste with which the NAZI's destroyed and left the buildings was somewhat shocking. If ever any of you get the chance to go to Krakow, I would highly recommend visiting the camp. I think you will find it to be a worthwhile trip where the gravity of the historical events that took place finally come to life and help you realize the seriousness of what happened less than 70 years ago there.

On a more airy note, I've been hanging out in Toulouse during this first week of my 2 week Easter vacation. I also just paused to think about the spelling of the adjective "airy" for what I thought to be the feminine noun "note," but then I realized my mother tongue does not have masculine and feminine nouns like French does. And thusly the corruption of my language becomes evident. While I have not arrived at the point of speaking excellent French, my level has reached a point of being near-acceptable. Unfortunately, this has resulted in the occasional struggle to find English words, or I sometimes find myself saying things that are almost direct translations of what the normal French phrase would be. Some friends and I were noting the other day that, as we switch languages depending on what group of people we are with, we can remember information exchanged during the course of a conversation but we cannot recall whether it occurred in English or French. I think this is probably a good thing. However, it can sometimes be a strange feeling to think that you have friendships that rely on you using a different language from your mother tongue. I know many people who speak more languages than I (and more fluently), but sometimes I wonder what subtleties of personality are lost across language barriers. It's sometimes amusing to consider who you were when you were about 10 years old and ask if you ever imagined that you would be where you are at the present moment, or if your 10 year old self would even recognize the current version of your person.

During the last week before vacation, I was leaving the high school when I spotted a couple of my middle school students. We exchanged the normal personable greetings, and they told me they were off to play tug of war for the middle school's sports day. I asked if I could watch, and they were rather excited that I wanted to cheer them on. Before you know it, however, watching becomes playing. Less than 10 minutes after our encounter, I found myself anchoring an 8-person team of mostly 12 or 13 year olds. Other teachers and school workers were also taking place in the festivities, but my presence at the event was rather unexpected. While several classes asked me to help them, I had pledged my loyalty to my team of what I guess is the 7th grade equivalent here. In our 3 matches together, we owned other teams. I felt this was a very proud moment for me in demonstrating 23 year-old American power over 13 year old Frenchies. We'll cut the frivolous details and niceties and be honest here...the most appropriate word to describe my performance in Tug of War (le tire à la corde) was dominant.

Finally, I've got one week of vacation left before I finish up with 1.5 weeks of work. I'm pretty low on funds, so I've not been traveling. However, fond memories have led me to search for tickets to go either to Geneva or Bordeaux. The problem is that the weather in the entire region is pretty gloomy and is forecasted to continue that way for the next few days. I guess until something changes, I'll keep kicking it in Toulouse. However, I want to wish you all a Happy Easter, and I know that I will see many of you in a month. Until then, my "What Rosebud meant..." and I will continue our tumultuous relationship of domestic blogging and online arguing until the neighbor blogs call the internet police.