Let's talk about language

So I figured after eight months of a year abroad specifically designed to improve my fluency in French, I should probably talk about where I feel my language is at now. I think about language a lot of the time, and pretty much every time I speak French I end up analysing what was said, either consciously or unconsciously. Each conversation has the power to make or break my day: coming out of a situation where I understood everything and was able to respond as I wanted to literally makes my whole week, but those bad experiences where my head's not in it and I misunderstand or end up stuttering over my words and it all falls apart are just the worst. It's kind of taken over my life if I'm honest, and it's hard to sum up all the language related trials and tribulations in just one blog post!

Having said that I feel like I've improved so much over this year, just from the sheer amount of French I've spoken, and the lack of any other option most of the time! So here are a few little thoughts and observations I've had recently about living daily life in a second language...


Firstly, it's worth saying that more often than not I come away from any sort of in-depth conversation (as in anything more than ordering in a restaurant or a 2 minute chat with someone) with a distinct sense of frustration at myself for not being better. I know my expectations of myself are too high, and that realistically I'm never going to be as good as native speakers, but I've always put a lot of emphasis on communication (I talk literally all the time: if left to my own devices I will just narrate my thoughts in a sort of stream of consciousness way until someone stops me), and not being able to say what I want to in the way I want to frustrates me like nothing else. Although this is annoying to say the least, if I can relax a bit and accept that I will make mistakes and sometimes have to muddle through it can be a really good thing, as it pushes me to keep talking and contributing, and to always try and clarify what I want to say as best I can. Although I'm never really in a situation where I can't think of a single way to communicate what I want to, I often find myself saying a less than I would in English, or saying it in a less precise way because I can't find the right word or idiom.

But when I step back and look at it, I have to admit that I generally feel very comfortable conversing in French now, as I know I can always understand the majority of what anyone says to me, and often even the little nuances too. French doesn't feel as much like a 'foreign' language to me any more, in the same way that France doesn't feel like a 'foreign' country, and most of the time when I'm out and about interacting with people I'm thinking in the language, and not translating in my head: the words have an inherent meaning now, and sometimes I even find myself translating phrases I hear a lot in French back in to English! I can't explain why, but some phrases pop in to my head in French before they do in English even when I'm thinking in English, completely randomly, and make my English sound a bit disjointed when I find myself translating literally from French!

I know this may make it sound like I'm totally bilingual and never have any problems speaking French, but that really couldn't be further from the truth, especially in intense, native-level conversations. There is nothing more demoralising than seeing that confused look on someone's face because you've said something completely wrong, or someone in a restaurant replying to you in English, or contributing to a conversation with a joke that doesn't quite work or a sentence that's too literal or doesn't translate properly and totally ruining the flow. I'm a real storyteller (nothing gives me more joy than telling a really great story and everyone laughing...genuinely, it's a problem) and sarcasm and humour are a huge part of who I am, so not being able to communicate these things properly really makes me feel like part of my identity is being, quite literally, lost in translation.

But occasionally, I'll have a conversation where I don't stutter, where I answer people's questions appropriately and without hesitation, or I tell a story or a joke and people actually laugh, and I walk away feeling so much more like myself. And also kind of like a superhero. These little breakthroughs, like when I led kids at church and was able to respond to their questions quickly and normally, or when I re-listened to a song and understood all the words when before I had really struggled, or in my church small group when people treat me the same way as everyone else (as in they don't slow down particularly or treat my responses differently to anyone else's), make all the struggles worthwhile. And remind me not to be so hard on myself!

The Wednesday Saga

Once upon a time, there were two little British Erasmus students studying at a French university, who wanted to take a second year literature module. Their quest to study this module was fraught with trials and tribulations, as they battled the evil French Administration to get to their first class. Let me tell you the tale...

PART 1

I had a somewhat...interesting morning last Wednesday. Having finally established that classes did indeed start last week (despite us having received no start date or information on how to sign up, even though it's completely different to last semester) and designed my timetable once more, I naively thought that maybe I had finally cracked the French administrative system. How wrong I was.

Ellie and I arrived at the designated room between just before 9:30am, when our class was meant to start. As there wasn't anyone waiting outside we went straight in and sat down, only to discover we had accidentally stumbled into the end of a sports science lecture! As we were already sat down we decided just to wait, and a couple of minutes later a few other latecomers seemed to make the same mistake. At this point the teacher stopped the lecture, and asked these students if they were from Europe...they said they weren't, and she then turned to all of us and explained in a fairly patronising way that this wasn't our class, that she would leave and another teacher would come in and take our lecture. Not sure that was entirely necessary, but there we go: sadly I'm fairly used to French teachers making fun of non-French students at the front of classes, so we just stayed where we were. But as time went on she showed no signs of slowing down: more students came in, and she 'jokingly' asked one of them if they were a teacher (the poor girl looked very confused and worried!)...at one point she just got up and left the room for a couple of minutes right in the middle of teaching which was odd. At almost 9:50 we finally decided to leave, and went quietly to the door...only to discover she had locked it! (unless someone else had come along in the last 25 minutes and locked it when there was a class inside, which seems unlikely!) So we then had to go back in sheepishly and out the other door. I feel like locking the door was a bit of an over reaction, and when we were walking away I looked behind me and saw her standing in the corridor watching us leave. Kind of weird, but she let us go so I guess it could have been worse!!

To try and figure out where we had gone wrong, we went to the big emplois du temps timetables in the main department building: neither the lecture nor any of the seminars for our module were there, even though they had been a mere 48 hours before. Panicking slightly that we were going to have to try and find 6 credits from somewhere else, we went to the department secretary, who was very friendly and checked it for us. She confirmed that the module wasn't there, and when I asked if it had been cancelled, she said yes. I was ready to leave and spend the day moaning about the complete disorganisation of French university, but luckily Ellie had the sense to double check whether the module was totally cancelled or not: at this the secretary assured us that no it wasn't completely cancelled, the class would be back on next week. Great.

So there we have it...a morning of sports science lectures, teachers locking us in lecture theatres, timetables changing within a couple of days with no warning, and answers completely changing based on whether a question has the word 'completely' in or not. Oh France....what are we going to do with you?!

At this point, I foolishly thought our troubles with this module were over. Oh how wrong I was...

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PART 2

So this morning, Ellie and I went back to Amphi B2 at 9:30 for take 2 of our battle with this module: I had already checked both the paper timetable (which hadn't been updated since last week) and the online timetable (which said the module was on as we expected, in this room and at this time) earlier in the week. When we arrived, we were thankfully not greeted by a room full of sports science students....in fact, there were only 6 people in there. Including us. This was obviously a problem, and even the other French students didn't know what was going on. Ellie checked the online timetable again, and the module wasn't on there...once again the timetable had changed in the last 48 hours. After waiting a few minutes, one group decided to go and ask secretary whilst I checked the paper timetable again. Although they had now updated the paper timetable to include this week's classes, our module was again nowhere to be seen. The department secretary had told Ellie that the teacher was absent again this week, and that next week's class was supposed to be happening but as he hadn't been here for 2 weeks she wasn't sure. We went back up to the boards to see if there were any other modules we could do, but there weren't any obvious ones on the 2nd year board, so we looked at the 1st year board...and saw a piece of paper under the 1st year timetable from the teacher of our module, telling us he wouldn't be taking his classes today. Apparently a note on the wrong board is sufficient if a class is cancelled for the second week in a row.

So my plan currently is to hope that the module is on next week, as there aren't many other classes I could replace it with, and I don't really want to have to catch up on 2 weeks of work on a different module! So fingers crossed our teacher turns up next week. Stay tuned for the next instalment of the Wednesday Saga, coming to you from an-initially-angry-but-now-fairly-resigned-to-it-all-Erasmus-student.

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PART 3

I thought I'd fill you all in on what happened this morning: firstly, I feel I should say that I had had a pretty rubbish day yesterday, just generally feeling really homesick and unwelcome at uni here, so I really needed today to be better. And thankfully, it was! Both classes were on as we expected, and the teacher was really lovely. Unlike some other teachers here, he was helpful and friendly, and actually acknowledged the struggles of being an Erasmus student and was supportive of that. He gave us an email address we could contact him on if we were panicking, and said we could write our essays in the same structure and style as we would in our own country, which is such a massive help! He was just really welcoming and clear in his explanations, which was exactly what I needed today. He also turned out to be British...his name is Steve, and there was something really comforting about hearing him say English titles every now and then in a very English accent!! So thank you Steve...you really made my day.

Mamma mia, here we go again...

So I've been back in France for a couple of weeks now, and thought I should fill you in on what's been going on! So first of all, my flight back on the Sunday night was cancelled due to fog in the UK, and after queuing for 4 and a half hours at the airport I was eventually transferred on to the next available flight, on Wednesday morning. This meant that I would end up missing 4 out of my 5 classes of the week, which was kind of frustrating as there almost seemed no point in going back that week at all!! That's one of the odd things about the Year Abroad: the amount of time we spend in compulsory classes is actually pretty small (for British Council and studying at least), which often makes me feel like I have no real 'reason' to be in France. Obviously the compulsory 'reason' for me being here isn't really the point, it's all about the other stuff that comes with just being in the country, and using the language: the studying is really just an excuse to be here, if that makes any sense! Anyway, I booked on to the Wednesday flight, and enjoyed a couple of bonus days at home with my parents (who I'd actually hardly seen, seeing as I had spent the week in Exeter and not with them...they're very long-suffering!!).

Lunch with my Mummy

These days were lovely, but in some ways really odd because I had geared myself up to go back at the weekend, and so it felt a bit like I had been building up to an exam which had been postponed! But I did feel a lot more ready to go back to France come Wednesday, and had had the chance to get over the worst of my Exeter homesickness whilst I still had the comforts of home around me! Inevitably I had a couple of panic moments when I arrived back: getting back on the bus going back the other way for another 7 weeks was not easy, but in fact the first few days altogether were much better than I had imagined they might be! I couldn't help but compare it to the last time I arrived in Rennes, terrified and knowing I had an uphill struggle to create a routine and some sort of normality, and I realised how much more settled I was this time! I had a routine, I knew people here, and I had done all the stressful and scary admin/settling in stuff already. Plus, I realised I only have a couple of empty weekends until Christmas: all the others were taken up with fun trips and visits! The weekends are often the most difficult days because they're really long (I don't have classes on Fridays and Mondays) and whereas normally I would be thrilled about having extra time to do fun things and see friends and family, I have a much shorter list of these things here that I can fill my free time with, so unless I actively plan stuff to do, I can get to Tuesday morning feeling bored, unproductive and pretty lonely. One such exciting event I had planned was dinner with Ellie and another girl from Exeter who is doing British Council not far from Rennes: we were at the restaurant for hours eating and drinking sangria, and reminiscing about life in Exe!

Amazing food and cocktails, and lots of laughter: perfect dinner date

Ellie and I ended up going for crêpes the night before as well, completely spontaneously...basically we were looking at restaurants and getting really hungry, and neither of us could be bothered to cook, so I suggested we go to Crêperie Sainte Anne (my favourite one), as Ellie had yet to sample their amazing crêpes. And as we tell ourselves every time we feel like maybe we go out for dinner too often, Exeter specifically tell us to work on our intercultural competence over this year, and really absorb the local culture...how can we do that if we're not eating crêpes regularly? It's as essential to our degrees as grammar exercises and essays. Anyway, they were insanely good, as always.

We were beyond hungry at this point

So that was my first week back! The weekend was pretty busy too, doing washing and shopping and making biscuits for church on Sunday as I was helping out with the kids for the first time, which was so much fun. I was slightly worried that I wouldn't be able to understand them/they wouldn't be able to understand me, but it was completely fine, and they were so hilarious and welcoming. It was so refreshing to spend time with them and look at life through their eyes, and be reminded of how simple everything really is!

That brings me on to Week 2, which was less great. I just started feeling really homesick halfway through the week, and struggled to get myself out of that...possibly because in the first week I'd managed to keep myself busy and stave off homesickness for the most part, but then as last week was much quieter my mind drifted towards home more often! But I felt better towards the end of the week and much better today as I got on with getting things done and organising life again...hopefully this week will be better!

Finally, I'm sure many of you will have seen my brief Facebook updates from my trip to Paris this weekend, but I will also be writing a post about it all soon to talk about it in a bit more detail. So until then mes amis!

The rainbow after the rain

So the last couple of weeks have been tough, to say the least. Moving your entire life to another country is really hard, no matter what your expectations, and it takes a while to adjust. I felt like I did everything I could to prepare, and tried to be as realistic as possible once I arrived, but it's still been really hard. Don't get me wrong, it's not like I'm miserable all the time, or that everything is awful...it's just that a lot of normal things suddenly become really difficult, and when you leave your family, friends, country and life all behind, it can be hard to pick yourself up after those things the way you would at home. Safe to say, the last couple of weeks have felt like a bit of an uphill struggle in many ways. I had been praying every day for a breakthrough, just something to really encourage me and keep me going, because I had started to feel like I was running really low on energy and finding it hard to carry on.

And today, that breakthrough came.

I woke up this morning with a sore throat, a headache, and the beginnings of a cold (not an ideal start), but I went to church anyway, planning to sleep it off later in the day. On the way there, I was listening to this song by Kari Jobe, and these lyrics really stood out to me:

"When I waited so long, when my tears were my song

With my hope nearly gone You held me God...

Your songs have never stopped

You've been singing, always singing over me"

This song is so full of joy, and I found myself thinking, 'I can't wait to be in that place again where I feel that joyful, and can truly praise Him for how He has come through for me'. I imagined myself being back in Exeter (I'm going back for a visit in just under 5 weeks) and feeling that bubble of happiness because I know He has carried me through. I've always thought I would have these amazing stories of incredible things He has brought out of this year: of how I trusted Him and He used that for His glory. But so far I don't have any miraculous stories like that. And it made me feel like I was wasting my time.

I arrived at church, and immediately someone came and started chatting to me, and she remembered me from my visit with Mum in July. I sat next to a lovely woman through the service, and another lady came to pray for me as well, so by the time the service ended I was already feeling encouraged. But after the service, so many people came and introduced themselves, and were just so friendly and interested: there was no reserve or formality, they were just so eager to welcome me in. People were introducing me to other students, and constantly coming and introducing themselves and asking me about my studies and where I was from. It turns out the woman I was sat next to works for a group called Agape, who - amongst other things - organise events for young Christians in Rennes, and she quickly asked if I wanted to be involved, and someone else came came up to me and another student and asked if we would like to be in a small group. I was really keen to get involved in church, but - as with everything else over the last few weeks - I thought I would have to go through a long and arduous journey in order to get it. The relief of having someone else take the initiative, and do all the organising on my behalf, was incredible. The combination of feeling so included, people's friendliness, and just the fact that people would literally be lining up to introduce themselves or would readily join in a conversation to make sure they didn't miss saying hello, meant that I left really feeling like I was on Cloud Nine. I know it sounds like such a small and insignificant thing, but I had spent weeks feeling like the awkward foreigner, and feeling so frustrated that everything was so hard and seemingly everyone was against me, that people going out of their way to include me, and not waiting for me to ask but offering help readily was honestly the most refreshing thing in the world.

As I walked away, I just couldn't stop smiling. I put my headphones back on, and listened to the song again: except this time, I really related to the words. He had brought me that breakthrough I had been praying for and eagerly awaiting, and I felt for the first time truly happy in France. I'm glad there wasn't anyone around, because I was singing along under my breath and laughing to myself all along the pavement...it was all I could do to keep myself from dancing down the road!!

This is definitely not the end of the difficulties: rather, the end of the beginning, but God is finally starting to show me what I might be doing here. And He's already taught me that hard as it is doing admin, and making new friends, and adjusting to a new culture...joy is always found in Him, and Him alone. Those other things going well all help a lot, but the only thing that has given me true joy here is a real connection with Him. If I have that and nothing else, I can be happy, but I have found that if I have everything except that, I never am. It took stripping everything else away, removing every other support, to make me realise how firm a foundation He truly is.

Sorry that this has become such a ramble, but I needed to share it, and often these kind of things are hard to properly explain!! But let me leave you with one simple thing I've learned through all this pain. Whether you know God or not, wherever you are in life, whatever you feel you need: believe. I promise He will come through for you, however long it takes.

Lesson Number One (like a rock, you must be hard...)

This post is about my first day of teaching here in Rennes (and also a play on the words of the song from Mulan, hence the title...but the lyrics are strangely appropriate!! It's all about being tough and brave, but also gentle and at peace...something I am definitely working on learning!) It was definitely a day of ups and downs, and so I thought it might be an interesting one to write about!

I only have 5 contact hours per week; 3 hours on a Tuesday, 1 on a Wednesday, and 1 on a Thursday. And then a 4 day weekend: perfect for travelling around and exploring! So this Tuesday just gone was my first official day after the craziness of signing up for all my classes on Monday, which we just about managed! I started with a TD (aka a seminar for all you British people, except there's about 40-50 students in each class!) in Méthodologie l'oral et l'écrit, which is basically how to survive oral exams (a common method of assessment here in all departments, not just languages) and written projects, and very useful for non-French speakers like myself! However, I didn't get off to a great start.

I got to the room about 10 minutes early and saw a crowd of students waiting outside so, obviously, I joined them, but then I saw someone else going in to my classroom. Confused, I asked the girl next to me if she was waiting for the same room as me, but she said she wasn't. Slightly panicked, I knocked and went in, only to find that the class had already started and the teacher was not impressed by the fact that I was late. I was even MORE confused because according to my phone, I was still a minute early, but I was definitely in the right class, so I did the walk of shame up to the front of the class and sat down. It later transpired that my phone was 4 minutes slow, hence my confusion! Anyway, the class was fine, and being at the front actually really helped me understand everything more easily! A lot of it was stuff I have already covered in Exeter, so that was reassuring...the girl next to me even asked me for help at one stage, and, even more shockingly, I seemed to give her the right answer!! The girl the other side of me showed me what exercise we were meant to be doing so I didn't get totally lost, so overall, not too bad. Class 1, check!

I then went to the library to go over my notes from the class before my next lecture, and then left a full 25 minutes early to make sure I wasn't late again. I found the lecture theatre easily enough - double doors with a sign saying Amphi B2 next to them - and I went in. There weren't many people sat down, but I was super early, so I selected a seat near the front and sat down to wait. However later on - with just three minutes to go until we were supposed to start - there were still very few people, so I asked the girl next to me if she was here for Littérature française. She wasn't. It turned out I was actually sitting in lecture theatre 3...the double doors in fact go to two different rooms, even though there is only one sign. So I grabbed my stuff and dashed next door, to find that - once again - my class had already started. Luckily the lecturer did not stop the lecture this time to highlight my embarrassment, and I just snuck in at the back. Phew. But I now realised my bigger predicament: because I was right at the back, I couldn't hear anything the lecturer was saying, much less understand it. One hour later, I had written down a random assortment of any words I could pick up, three names, and the fact that I needed to buy and read some books: but I didn't know which ones. Needless to say, I was somewhat demoralised.

I then returned to the library to try and make at least some sense of my notes before the TD that afternoon, and discovered that the three names I had written down were (I think?) the authors of the texts I need to read, but as he hadn't written the titles down on the board, I was still really none the wiser. I actually managed to get to this next class problem-free, which was a definite improvement, and although I could hear fairly clearly and understood a good chunk, there were definitely sections I didn't get. Hopefully none of the stuff I didn't get was too important!! It didn't help that I really struggled to read the teacher's writing on the board, but I have emailed him asking for a bibliography/any key points I might have missed, so hopefully I will be up to date by next week!

Anyway, a combination of the day's dramas, not understanding a fair amount, and missing uni life at home got me a bit down during the evening...so I must admit, I wallowed. Sometimes you need to just dust yourself off and get straight back out there, but other times you need to embrace the struggles, deal with them, and gear yourself up to face a new day. Both a Skype chat with my Mum and a friend from home, and a message to some of my other friends asking them to pray for me later, and I felt ready to face another day. It reminded me of this great quote I read on Pinterest a few weeks ago: 'Courage does not always roar. Sometimes courage is the quiet voice at the end of the day saying, "I will try again tomorrow"'. So I did...and today was much better.

So when things get tough, take a leaf out of Mulan's book: get yourself together, put a brave face on, and trust that, with a bit of help, you will eventually come out the other side. Lesson Number One.

First post from LA FRANCE!! Days 1 and 2

Just a disclaimer: this is very much a blow-by-blow detailed account of my first couple of days in Rennes...more general posts will follow later!

Oh. My. Gosh. What a crazy few days it's been!! So much has happened that I'm not quite sure how it will fit in one readable post; I will inevitably miss some things out, so if you are a future Year Abroader/concerned family member or friend, please drop me a message so I can fill you in on more details!

So the journey was...interesting. I knew I would be pretty terrified, but I don't think I have ever felt more unsettled, ill (anxiety tends to go straight to my stomach and make me sick!) and gut-wrenchingly worried in my life. I knew I would have to deal with this year one day at a time, but at that moment I was literally having to take it half an hour at a time. I was basically a complete mess; up until departure day I had really tried to stay strong and calm and be really grown-up and controlled about the whole thing, but my resolve just completely crumbled that morning, and my Mum had to literally coax me onto the plane. It was one of the hardest things I've ever done, but the way I got through it was just by never thinking further ahead than I could handle, by praying, and through the unfailing strength and encouragement of my insane parents. I have rarely been so grateful for them!! This is me being terrified and trying to sleep at the airport, and pretend like it wasn't happening:

Photo 1 of my YA: general terror

Anyway, I thought that was important to say that in the interests of honesty! We got a taxi to my flat to drop off my luggage and then went to check in at my parents' hotel room, mostly because I was absolutely shattered (I got about 2 hours sleep the night before) and feeling really ill still, and just needed some recuperation time! We then returned to unpack my stuff, and I am really pleased with my room now...it's really cosy, and has lots of things to remind me of home. Basically loads of photos and fairy lights: if only I had Instagram...

Unpacking

Mood lighting on, and starting to relax

Mum then carried on unpacking (thanks Mum!) and I read some YA blogs, as I was still feeling a bit wobbly, and reading other people's experiences is one of my go-to pick me ups. Works pretty much every time! Not sure what I will do when I run out, but I'll cross that bridge when I come to it (that phrase incidentally is steadily becoming my YA mantra). We had dinner at the hotel, but I didn't have much, and then I had ANOTHER panic moment as I started to think about how I was going to settle in to routine, and how different life was here, so Mum and Dad walked me back to my apartment. I then had a lovely conversation with my French flatmate until the early hours, about France, the UK, university, tea and missing home, which really encouraged me and made me feel much more at home in my flat! Of course then I started panicking that my French wasn't good enough, despite having had an intelligible conversation for coming up to 2 hours all in French, but there we go. Day 1 was done.

So that brings us on to DAY 2. I woke up feeling really thirsty due to all my vomiting the day before, and feeling a bit 'oh my goodness where am I? Wait, am I in France? Oh my goodness this is crazy!!'. But going to see Mum and Dad at their hotel chilled me out a bit, and after we had been to my local Carrefour for some basics we had a cup of tea and something to eat with my flatmate, in a weird concoction of French and English!

Mum and I making tea in my kitchen

I then went to campus to meet a friend from back home in Exeter who is also at Rennes 2 this year, and we went to get signed up for events this week. The queue took a while to get through, but we met some other Erasmus students from the UK and the US whilst waiting and chatted to them about how confusing it all was to pass the time! I felt a lot better once we had a basic timetable for the week, and having chatted to Ellie and shared our experiences, and then I went out for dinner with my parents to our favourite crêperie (still haven't eaten anywhere else in Rennes...should probably get on that!).

Mum and Dad at the crêperie

A slightly less terrified-looking me

The evening however did not end brilliantly, as I got stressed about the prospect of having to open a bank account in French and realising I didn't really have a clue how the French banking system works, so Mum and Dad came back with me again to keep me company. When I got back, I prayed and then read a Bible passage my friend from home had messaged me with earlier, telling me to read it. It was Psalm 91, and it was completely perfect for me: it really reassured me that God was looking out for me and that I could face the next couple of days without my parents, who were going home the following morning.

So there we go! My first two days in Rennes. I have spent so long wondering what these days might look like, and worrying about them, that to be finally started and getting through it all is definitely a relief, even if it's hard sometimes! It's been a complete roller coaster so far, but it's good to be ticking off the days now! Sorry that this has literally just been a list of what I've done and how I've felt, but I wish more posts like this had existed when I was getting ready to go so I could see how the first few days might be, so I thought it might be helpful! If it hasn't been, sorry. You've just wasted 5 minutes of your life. I can only apologise.

A bientôt!

Pre-departure thoughts and feelings

As I write this, I have just over 2 weeks until I leave for France. Can't quite believe I just wrote that...how has this happened??! I can't believe how quickly time has gone, and that I'm already at the point of imminent departure for my year abroad. There was definitely a time when I honestly didn't think I would ever get this far; I really thought I would have chickened out by now. But I haven't!! So that's something...well done me, the hard part's over. As if. Anyway, I just thought I would share with you a few of my thoughts and emotions leading up to leaving. There's so much I could say about this, but I will try and condense it in to one vaguely readable post!

Generally I'm not quite as scared as I worried I might be at this stage. Things are starting to slot in to place and I'm crossing more and more things off my to do list, and although all these things do make the whole thing seem more real, they also help me to start imagining what life might be like in France. And it has to start feeling real at some point, preferably before I actually touch down at Rennes airport, just to save me from having a complete breakdown before we even leave the plane.

One of these 'real' things is the buddy scheme my uni in Rennes has in place, whereby each international student is allocated a marraine to help them with practical things and generally to settle in during the first few weeks. The word marraine doesn't really have a direct English translation; the closest we have is 'godmother', which just reminds me of Cinderella and makes me imagine my godmother as having a fairy wand and crown. Which isn't an unpleasant association...I love Cinderella, but chances are my godmother won't wear a crown on an everyday basis. But despite this, we have had a few email exchanges and she seems so lovely and friendly, and has offered to come with me and do all the scary things like opening a bank account and things so I don't get too confused!! So that is just amazing, and I'm very excited to meet her and her other 'godchildren' when I arrive; as well as me, she is also going to be looking after two girls from Brazil and Spain, which is exciting! This may also give me an opportunity to keep up my Spanish when I'm out there, just so I don't completely forget it all!

I am also FINALLY at the point where I have pretty much finished my pre-departure to-do list, having signed and sent my landlady the housing contract, filled in and sent my Erasmus forms to Rennes, re-applied for student finance, booked my flights, and bought things for my flat/ordered my photos to decorate my room with. All that's left is to organise how I'm going to get my keys to the flat, get Exeter to sign my Erasmus forms once Rennes return them, and see if I can take my guitar on the plane with me. The last one of these is obviously the most important; what will I do without Ed (named after Ed Sheeran) next year if I can't take him?! Stressful times.

So all this is very exciting, but what do you do when all the admin is done and all that's left on the list is to actually go? This is the bit that is currently freaking me out. I'm really enjoying being at home and just chilling with my family, but the idea of having to do this in 2 weeks is constantly there, and it is getting harder and harder not to worry and stress about it. There are some things I'm excited about, and a big part of me just wants to get on and do it now, and get the first few difficult weeks done, but still. Moving abroad is scary. Here's how I am trying (and probably failing) to cope:

• skype. Both with my uni friends who are staying in Exeter next year, and those who are also going abroad; they offer different points of view, but both help you keep it all in perspective. Your friends at home reassure you that they won't forget you as soon as you leave, and your friends who are also going abroad remind you that you're not alone
• ThirdYearAbroad. Similarly, the blogs and advice on this site encourage you that thousands of other students have done this before you and survived, and you can do it too
• enjoy home. Make the most of watching your favourite films and programmes (ahem, Bake Off) with your family, going on days out together, and generally enjoying your last couple of weeks in the green and pleasant land that is England
• don't think about it when you're feeling especially rubbish/about to go to sleep. I find that when I'm feeling worse than usual, for whatever reason, I tend to wallow and then think about how awful France is going to be, which is untrue, counter-productive, and totally unhelpful. It builds negative associations which you just don't need, and worrying about it as you are about to go to sleep just keeps you awake unnecessarily; again, not particularly helpful
• I have a couple of key Bible verses which I cling to when I can't remember why I'm doing this, or start thinking I won't be able to get through it; sometimes all you can do is repeat them to yourself over and over until they start to sink in. My go-to ones are Isaiah 43:2, Psalm 46:1-2  and Romans 8:31
• focus on the exciting things. When the scary things start to overwhelm me, I try and think of everything I'm excited about. There's always something to look forward to, often lots of things, and focusing on these helps me put the worry back in perspective and see this opportunity for what it is; an OPPORTUNITY

Woah this has turned out to be a long post, and still it's a massively simplified version of all my thoughts and feelings relating to my YA; we'd be here all day - and probably in to next week - if I wrote down everything that's going through my head right now. And you'd probably be concerned I was going insane. So I'll leave it there, but I hope this has helped any future year abroaders...emotional roller coasters are very normal pre-departure it seems!!

Mum and Katie explore Rennes

So, I have returned from my first wanderings in Rennes! I have literally experienced the full spectrum of human emotion in the last few days, and so this post could get quite long and detailed...so I will make sure I include lots of pictures to keep you amused. Here's the first one: one of my favourites of the main square in Rennes.

Place Sainte-Anne

So after a day full of apprehension, anticipation and aviation, we (that's me and my primary support machine, my Mum) arrived at our hotel late on Saturday night, and then Sunday morning was taken up with visiting the church I'm planning to go to next year. I had - probably unhelpfully - placed a lot of expectation on this, but fortunately we found it easily, and everyone was really friendly. We managed to speak to almost everyone, which was amazing, and we were never left not talking to anyone...people were so great at coming up and introducing themselves! Because it's the middle of summer, a lot of families and most of the students were away from Rennes, but the few students I did meet were so lovely and welcoming, and lots of the couples turned out to either have family in England or often one of the pair was actually English, which was reassuring for me as they really understood what I was going through, and especially reassuring for Mum, as it meant there were some people she could speak English to! My French seemed to keep up which was a relief; I sometimes found myself searching for a word or struggling with a verb conjugation, and occasionally I had to ask people to repeat things, but other than that it seemed OK! No completely blank faces greeted me, so that's a positive.

We had been invited to a picnic with one of the families after church, which was so kind of them, but in the end I decided it might be best to just go back to the hotel for a bit of a break...even though church had really reassured me, it was all quite overwhelming and tiring being in a church service entirely in French, and - as often happens when I'm nervous - I was feeling really sick and just generally exhausted. So we went back and had a regroup and a rest, and then once I had recovered a bit we went for an explore of the city. We managed to negotiate the metro (it's not hard it turns out...there's only one line, but still, it makes you feel like a local) and then had a general wander round. The city itself was really nice...full of picturesque little streets, wide boulevards and old buildings, and it even has a quay like Exeter (not quite as nice though)! And a great mix of authentically French boutiques and shops like Lush and Body Shop. Also lots of shops my Mum recognised from her youth...some parts were basically like 1980s England. In the best way.

One of the old streets

La République

The river

The Opera House

We chose one of the many (seriously, there are hundreds) crêperies to have our tea, which was delicious...I feel I may be having a lot of crêpes in the coming months.

Me at our favourite crêperie in Place Sainte-Anne

Monday started with trying - and failing - to find a café to have breakfast, and so we ended up getting some food in a supermarket down the road.  We managed to find ordinary milk and...wait for it...TETLEY ENGLISH BREAKFAST TEA BAGS. I will survive my year abroad it seems, as we have found it is possible to make a decent cup of tea in France!! All it took was a bit of searching and English know-how...my Mum is literally a tea expert, so she perfected a French tea-making method for me.

After our breakfast, I must admit I had a bit of a wobbler. I just had one of those moments where I stressed that 7 months was a very long time, and it was all too different, and I couldn't deal with it. But Mum really helped me put it all in perspective...7 months will go very quickly once the first few weeks have gone, and we looked back at Freshers last year (see my blog post about it here) and how hard that was, but how happy I was once I had done it. For all the great 'God really carried me through this' stories, there had to be a 'oh my gosh I can't do this' beginning.

After that we got the metro down to the uni and had a little look round, and I have to say, the campus was so much nicer than I was expecting!! It had a lovely nice campusy-feel, and was really green, so that was a pleasant surprise!

The main building

I recognised this from the website!

We could almost be in Exeter...

My flat is literally 2 mins away (you can see the campus from my bedroom window) which is amazing, and the flat itself was great...really clean, everything's included, and my room was such a good size! Plus the landlady was really friendly, and she told me both my flatmates will be French, which is SUCH a bonus. Massive answer to prayer there! The rest of the day was really just taken up with looking round the area round my apartment, which had a great atmosphere as its slightly outside the main city centre, but still only 10 mins on the metro, and a big supermarket and shops nearby. It sounds ridiculous, but I was very excited to find home comforts like my regular moisturiser and shampoo, Pringles and Ben and Jerry's in the supermarket! It's the little things.

Ma chambre

La cuisine

So that's a summary of our weekend! Overall it was a really positive experience, and although I had my moments, for the most part it made the YA less of a completely unknown entity, and really encouraged me that I can actually do this. It's still scary, and much more real now, but I have 6 weeks to gear myself up before I start, and at least now I have some sort of feel for the city which will be my home for 7 months! I shall probably do a few more posts as I prepare to fly out, but until then, à bientôt. 

A whole new tree

There's something about a new academic year which pushes children, students, parents and just general people around the world into a 'new leaf' phase. Every single year, without exception, I start September with a mad desire to better myself; to work harder (which lasts about a week before I am once again snowed under by reading and deadlines), to watch less TV (until I remember that Bake Off AND Downton are on in September, and this year there's An Extra Slice as well…what human being could stand up to these temptations?) and to do more exercise (I can't even come up with an explanation for that one, it just never happens). What I'm really expecting each year is that by some miracle I will have a personality transplant, and become a hard-working, incredibly productive girl who doesn't even know what the word 'procrastination' means. I don't just want to turn over a new leaf, I want to be a whole new tree.

You would think we would learn our lessons after a while; if we didn't stick to our resolutions last year, we almost certainly won't this year either, but no. Instead of doing the sensible thing this year and cutting down on my list of ways to better myself, I have added another one to the ever-growing group.

To actually write a regular blog.

Over the last 6 months (otherwise known as half a year) since I last posted, I have been reading a plethora of other blogs and trying to answer that age-old question, 'what makes these blogs good, and mine…let's just say, a bit less good?'. The answer, I have come to realise, is not some complicated formula or ingenious layout, but simply that they write regularly, and they write about what they know. In that light, I am not only going to try and post on my blog more than once between now and Christmas 2020, but also slim down what I actually write about. At the tender age of 20 (I keep telling people I'm almost 21 to make myself sound older, but my birthday is in reality still over 4 months away) I can't pretend to have much experience of anything really, but the two things I can at least make a go of trying to write about are:

1) being a student

2) being a Christian

So my blog is going to try and describe the ups, the downs, and the mundane in-betweens that occur in the life of a university student who is trying to get a good degree, have fun, and follow Jesus. Often it will be me trying to work out how these three things go together, and how I can get as much out of it #studentlife as I can, whilst still living the 'life to the full' that Jesus promises (John 10:10). But hopefully, I will occasionally be able to share little revelations about how life as a Christian and life as a student can work together, and how living as one of these doesn't limit me also living as the other, but actually enhances it.

So this year, my plan is not only for my blog to become a 'whole new tree', but for me to follow its example and also change for the better…or if all else fails, at least it will give me something else to distract me from my essays.

MY story of Freshers' Week

I wrote most of this post (unconsciously chucking in a rhyme there...mark of a language student) in about Week 3 of my first term, to try and make sense of the beautiful chaos that is Freshers Week. Looking back on it now, it was an insane time…uni generally is pretty intense, but Freshers is on a WHOLE other level! Which is unsurprising really…a few thousand 18-19 year olds from all over the world thrown together, all with very different life experiences and worldviews, yet for most of which this is their first attempt to live as an independent adult away from the support of family and friends, and then told to go and 'mingle' (a word I was completely sick of by the end of the week) at the huge numbers of getting-to-know-you events organised. Add to this an average of 4 hours sleep a night, homesickness, freshers' flu and trying to get used to living in just one room instead of a whole house and you have the makings of a very hectic week for all involved!

No matter whether people have been to uni or not, everyone has some nugget of wisdom to pass on to you as an expectant first year; get involved in everything, be selective in your society choices, make sure you get into a study routine in first year, use first year as a chance to try new things because it doesn’t count to your degree…its easy to feel overwhelmed. Now don’t get me wrong, as a first year who has come out the other side of Freshers and therefore considers herself an expert on all things university, I have my own gems which I am waiting to bestow on the less experienced; but all this advice can make it hard to know whether you are doing Freshers Week the ‘right’ way or not.

I definitely didn't appreciate just how exhausting Freshers would be; I was physically tired, and emotionally drained from having to constantly be sociable when really all I wanted to do was go home, curl up in my pyjamas with a cup of tea and watch Harry Potter with my family...but it's also so exciting. For the first time in my life I was truly making it on my own, and I have never been more aware of God holding me in His hand, and of His going before me. The one thing that really held me together that week was knowing that God had prepared the way for me, and that He was so close to me and understood me even when I felt like no one knew me at all. This foundation is what gave me the courage to slow down a bit, relax (to an extent: I was still totally terrified), and know that I would - in time - meet my friends. And, shockingly, I did.

So my best advice for surviving the jungle that is your first few weeks at university? Do what you want to do when you want to do it, take care of yourself, cherish the good bits whilst accepting and moving on from the bad bits, and trust God above everything. Take it one day at a time, and before you know it you’ll be dishing out your own advice.