On Trains, Traveling, Time Management, and other things that start with T.

I have never been very good at traveling by myself. I stress myself out very easily and worry far too much about being too late or too early, and especially about how much things will cost. This last week has been particularly stressful for me, not only because I could not ever figure out how to get a reservation on a train without actually buying a ticket online (because I have a EuRail Pass that is good for 10 days of traveling), but also because: 1- my host mom is becoming very bitchy; 2- my phone charger died (partially my fault); 3- my alarm clock died (totally my fault); 4-I’m going to Nice alone; 5-I had a test the day after Bastille Day (and you simply cannot study on Bastille Day); and 6- I’m homesick. If you thought that someone living in France for a month was incapable of complaining: you were wrong. IF you don’t want to read a long, probably pretty boring post about all the things that I just listed in further detail, you can skip to the end where I will inevitably come to the conclusion that things really aren’t that bad and, after all, I am in France.
So here goes!
Before today, which is the day I left for Nice (I’m on a train right now), I tried every day for an entire week to buy a ticket on line, to no avail. If I had gone to the station to get it a week ago (which is DEFINITELY! What I’m doing next time), then it would have been much cheaper and certainly less stressful. As it is; my reservations made at the last minute cost me 54Euros. It’s a small price to pay for learning my lesson, though, I suppose.
Second: my host mom. I know (now more than ever before) that things are very different in France than in the US: for instance, water here, and electricity, are both very expensive. So we’re not allowed to take baths (as if I would, anyways), but we’re also not allowed to use the mini-fridge or microwave that are both located in our living space. So, you’re thinking, you can use a shelf in her fridge, right? Well, that’s what we thought (and it took us ten minutes of struggling through conversation with her to get there), and so I put one solitary package of four slices of deli meat for sandwiches, the smallest I could find, in her fridge. The next day, it was gone. She didn’t even tell me she was going to throw it out or that it wasn’t okay (if she had, I would have eaten it all right then and there), she just did it. I hate that. And for someone who confronts me about every other problem she has with me, it surprised me. The ridiculous thing is, the fridge is a mess! I don’t know how she even found it! She is immaculate to the point of insanity about the cleanliness of the house, and our rooms, but she probably hasn’t cleared that fridge in years. So mainly what I’ve been eating every day for every meal is bread and fruit. I go out to eat occasionally, but I can’t afford to do it for every lunch and dinner every day!
She is paid to provide breakfast, a room, and every once in a while, to do laundry. Every morning for breakfast we get bread, butter, and jam. I know she doesn’t eat the bread she gives us because the only time it moves/disappears is when we eat it. We’re not allowed to come down before eight, even though when we have morning class, it starts at 8:30 and it takes 15 minutes to walk there. We are also expected to clean everything up after we’re done. This is all doable, but a big hassle. AND, the other day, the bread she put out for us was moldy. Like, beyond the point where you can just pick the bad parts out. Awesome.
Today, I woke up a 6:30 because, since it is the day after Bastille Day and I didn’t study last night, and I had a test, I had to study some. I also had to get everything done before eight that I usually do. I got into the shower and about five minutes in (it really only ever takes me seven to ten minutes), she knocked on the bathroom door. It IS totally justifiable that she was annoyed, because 6:30 is super early, but then when I was done and dressed, she came into my room and started lecturing me about it while Nika was trying to sleep in the other room. We eventually got to the point where she felt like she had lectured me enough and I had given up trying to explain myself, and at that point she told me to bring down my laundry. The only things I had given her to wash last week were underwear and three pairs of socks, because I’ve been wearing all of my clothes two, three, even four times. This week, however, everything is dirty, so I brought most of my clothes down for her to wash. This load did not even fill my bath-towel that I was using as a laundry bag for the occasion (and it is about a third of the amount of laundry I usually go through in two weeks at home), and she completely freaked out. She actually said, “I’m not your servant!” in French.
Well, yeah, lady, technically you are. I’m paying you.
Also. She calls me Kristina.
Next!- my phone charger. This thing hasn’t been working all the well these past couple of weeks, and yesterday, it decided that when I plugged it in to the energy/wattage converter (which is plugged into a bunch of other stuff because the current is stronger here in France), to say, “charging!” and then “not charging!” “charging!” “not charging!” over and over again, beeping happily all the while. It never stopped this game, whether it was on low or high setting, so eventually I thought, “maybe it actually needs more watts than this converter is giving it!” so I plugged it into the outlet converter minus the energy converter; directly into the French current. I observed for several minutes, worriedly, that it was working, and since I was about to go to bed, I figured it would be okay overnight. Not so.
When I woke up the next morning, the charger had not only failed to charge my phone, it had manage to deplete most of the remaining battery life as well. So now, I have no phone.
Because my phone is dead, I had to break out the alarm clock that I brought just in case (sometimes it takes more than a phone to wake me up in the mornings). Of course, I brought the wrong kind of battery for it, so I was going to have to plug it in. I was charging my camera battery at the time with the converter and so, with a great amount of stupidity, I plugged the alarm clock in sans converter (just like I had the phone-charger). It worked for a good two minutes, during which I was not paying any attention to it until I heard a loud snap and looked over to see the device smoking. For a bit, I was completely distraught, because I had no method of waking myself up in the morning, now, and my test was the next day! I remembered, then, that my i-pod has an alarm. Thank the lord.
Finally, because yesterday was Bastille Day, we didn’t have classes. At some point, my host-mom asked if I wanted to walk around the lake with her. I said yes with the hope that we could bond and she would hate me less. Ha. We walked for nearly two hours, which would have been nice if she hadn’t been speeding her way through like a bat out of hell. I had absolutely no time to admire anything at all, and you should keep in mind that I am a very fast walker. We got about halfway back home when she asked if I was hungry. I said yes, even though I wasn’t really, because my feet hurt. We went to McDonalds (which I really don’t like at all), and she ordered a medium diet coke. I had thought that she asked because she was hungry, so I was a little confused, but regardless. She ordered, and then looked to me with a look that, to everyone in the world, means, “you order now, I’ve got this one. I’ll pay,” so I ordered. She got out coins, not nearly enough, and then paid for her medium diet coke, and then looked at me again with the “aren’t you going to get your money out now” look. WHAT THE HELL.
Skippers: Begin reading again here:
Thankfully, the rest of the day was much better. I went to the park to meet some others for the picnic we had planned the night before, and by the time everyone arrived there were some 50 people there, the majority being IFALPES students. 

Everyone had brought food; 

lots of Rosé, a shit ton of cheese, and plenty of other delicious delectables for the enjoyment of all. It was the best and most varied meal I have had while here (it’s difficult to eat well when you have no means of cooking or storing your food..) and it was really fun. There were about a million and a half things going on, too. A bungie-cord type ride, a log hanging out over the canal that kids were jumping off of (in their underwear), 

several bands/musicians in different areas of the park, 

and also a large area where they had set up musical instrument crafted from trash. Large spinning wheels with bottle caps and metal tubes for noise-making; bells made out of old cans; recorders that sounded when you pressed on a rubber boot to which they were attached, and much more. It was spectacular.

Speaking of spectacular. Fireworks. If you have been to Disneyworld and have seen the fireworks there then you probably have a vague if very understated comprehension of what the fireworks were like on Bastille Day in Annecy, France. Not only had a full moon, larger that any Harvest Moon I’ve ever seen, JUST risen up over the vast mountain landscape to our right, 

but we were close enough that we could look straight up and see firey stars falling down toward us. 

It was the longest, most wonderful, varied, beautiful, and awe-inspiring fireworks show I have ever seen. I felt, many times, as though I was traveling through space while the entire universe exploded around me.
The thing I need to remind myself, at the end of the day, is that I am very lucky. I am lucky to have been born in the US, and to know the most universal language in the world as my first language (unlike many of my friends here). I am lucky to have the parents I have, and not to have to live with a crazy lady for more than a month. I am lucky to be able to afford to go to places like France, to take trains, and to buy phones. Sometimes I forget that, and sometimes it takes a Bastille Day spent in the mountains with friends and fireworks to remind me. Really, I don’t have it that bad. And after all, I am in France.