C'est la vie...A running update on the Massons: January 2010

Jan 30, 2010

It's a jungle in here...

My friend Brandon recently shared a link to Paul Burnwell’s post entitled 'Top Ten Annoying things to say to wildlife photographers'. It was brilliant.

I agree with Burnwell on many of his points, such as "Wow, you must have a really nice camera!" or "That picture would be amazing as a painting." But the one that resonated the most with me was number 4. And I quote:

'You were so lucky to be in the right place at the right time.'
In the same sense that I was lucky to be up an hour before sunrise for a week to arrive at the location in time only to be disappointed 6 out of the 7 days, I guess I was lucky.

Truly, I understand where he's coming from. Wildlife photography takes a serious commitment to braving the elements, being patient and realizing the scene is out of your control. Take for example my recent wildlife shoot...

I call this one Wild dustbunny on the run. Seeing this species in broad daylight used to be a very rare occurence, but as a result of this year's crazy work-clinic-school schedules in the Land of Masson, these little guys have had the perfect environment for breeding like, well... bunnies.

Photographing the elusive Wild dustbunny (Dustbunius savagus) takes a trained eye, as they are often masters of disguise. But trust me - once you know what to look for, you'll start to see them everywhere.

This exquisite specimen was basking in the early morning sunlight streaming in through the window.

Little did he know that danger lurked just around the corner...

A fierce predator was on the prowl.

Jan 27, 2010

Milkin' France...

I'm not exactly sure whose idea it was to put a cow hiding behind France on the redesigned Monoprix milkbox, but if I ever meet them I will thank them for the illustration for today's post.

I keep expecting to have a (series of) massive breakdown(s) once the realization sets in that we're leaving France in about seven months. I figure it's inevitable that one fine day I'll just lose it over the fact that this stage of our life - all our 'firsts' - is coming to an end. (Leave it to me, the organizer, to attempt to predict when this wave of emotion will hit so that I can be sure work is under control and the apartment is clean first...)

Or maybe it won't hit. Maybe our excitement for the next stage will carry me through the grieving over the end of this one. Maybe it'll be a gradual and easy transition. One night I'll sit down on our incredibly threadbare couch, holding my favorite mug, watching Jonathan type away at his mémoire, listening to the hum of the space heater while I wait for the pear tarte I decided was a good idea to make at 9:45pm... and I'll think how thankful I am, and also how ready I am.

There are still things I want to do and experience in Lyon, some for the first time and some one last time. (Don't worry - I made a list of them.) As excited as we are for the next step, we're going to be milkin' France for all its worth these last seven months!

Jan 24, 2010

On my mind...

The Rhône in downtown Lyon. Up on the hillside is the Croix Rousse, where I work.

...What am I going to wear to run in Senegal? Dakar is pretty western, but it's still a Muslim country and I'm going to stand out even more than my usual little pale self. I'm thinking of recruiting Erin to recommend some options for me. I'm guessing the keywords are going to be: baggy, lightweight, loose and breathable.

...I'm going to do one of these free trials over at emusic and get 35 free songs. Any suggestions? (Bonus points if they go well with running, de-stressing or waking up.)

A la pâtisserie

...You know how some churches in the US have donuts after Sunday School? Well, mine did. As a result, I often crave Krispy Kreme on Sundays. But last week we found something better: pear & almond tart from a pâtisserie that was surprisingly a) open on Sunday, b) open in the afternoon on Sunday. Yum!

...As I type this, Côte d'Ivoire and Algeria are tied at half-time in the Quarterfinals of the African Cup of Nations 2010. Allez les Eléphants !

The pentes de la Croix Rousse

...Ever since reading Searching for Eternity by Elizabeth Musser, I've wanted to visit the Center for the History of the Resistance and Deportation here in Lyon, where she did much of her research. The book taught me so much about Lyon's history, so I figured the source of her information would be fascinating. Wrong. Read the book. Skip the muse(yawn)um.

...Adapting my pear tarte recipe to be faster and easier seemed like a good idea. Then I realized it's now both faster and easier to make any time the craving strikes. Oops.

Jan 21, 2010

iCan still blog...

So here's the deal: our internet died this morning (RIP again). The diagnosis is a problem with the phone line and the repairman will be here Monday afternoon. Which means I'm disconnected from the interwebs for four days.

Yeah, right.

I accept your challenge, France Telecom. I will import my work emails onto my phone, Tweetdeck to my little heart's content, navigate Facebook on a screen the size of a Graham cracker quarter, and yes - I will attempt blogging by email. (If you see this post, I have conquered it. And probably have very sore thumbs.)

Lest you think I spent all day starring at this little screen, let me assure you that I have done plenty of screenless activities (some of which I haven't done in months, but let's leave the exact details of which ones a spicy little mystery.)

I have...
...mopped the floors.
...been for a long run.
...dusted the furniture.
...highlighted my baby chicken haircut.
...cleaned the bathroom.
...finally mastered typing on this thing and now look as cool as the other kids.

Sent from my iPhone

Jan 19, 2010

Have a jab on the house...

Anticipating a major flu outbreak (achoo!), France stocked up on 94 million doses of the flu vaccine last fall. So far, only 5 million people have been vaccinated. Quick math equals a whole lotta' vaccine left over. So they decided to have an overstock clearance sale... or something like that. Apparently Qatar, Egypt, Mexico and Ukraine are interested buyers. Here's hoping the outbreak never lives up to the fears and that none of those countries ever have to ask for a frequent shopper card.

In very related news... guess who got letters from the French health minister listing all the reasons we're at risk for the flu and vouchers for two complimentary doses of the vaccine? Mr and Mrs Yours-Truly.

Thanks, but non merci. I've had enough shots lately.

(And have I mentioned lately... 24 days to Senegal!)

Jan 17, 2010

Soup du jour? Yes, please!

A little restaurant on rue des Marroniers in Lyon

A waiter was called back to a table by an angry customer. “What seems to be the problem?” he asked. “I asked for Soup du Jour and got this instead.” “But that is Soup du Jour,” the waiter explained.” “No it isn't,” replied the customer. “This is vegetable soup! I've been to Lyon and had the real Soup du Jour while I was there. It was excellent mushroom soup!”

Jan 14, 2010

I'll beat you with a stick, you crazy person...

Yup. That's us six years ago in Senegal - Tabaski celebration in February 2004.

In preparation for our trip back to Senegal in February, we've been brushing up on our Wolof language skills. (Fun coincidence: Wolof phrases are used in the 'Roots' episode of Northern Exposure, which we happened to watch tonight.)

The other day I listened to mp3s recorded by Peace Corps teams in the Gambia, where they also speak Wolof. It was a great first step back into the language - and the culture! I was cracking up on the subway as I listened. Those of you who have lived in Africa will totally be able to identify with these two snippets...

Talking about the weather, a sample conversation:

Man: Yesterday it was too hot.

Woman: There was no wind at all.

Man: I’ve never seen such heat.

Woman: I got up and took a shower last night.

Man: I couldn’t sleep at all.

Woman: We spent the night outside.

Man: Do you think it is safe to spend the night outside in the dark?

Woman: It’s okay. We spent the night on a platform, not on the ground.

Awesome. And, as anyone who has spent time in Africa knows, this conversation could very easily have been real.

Now let's take a look at a few common phrases given in Wolof on the mp3s. Just for fun, why don't you read them out loud?

Come here.
I am going.
Leave me alone.
What are you doing?
What did you say?
What do you want?
What it this?
You are sitting.
I’ll beat you with a stick.
Give me water.
Come eat.
You crazy person.
Thank you.

I love it. These truly are common phrases - as well as some great insights into the culture that we're so excited to get back into. As you can see, Messieurs and Mesdames, the more casual and relaxed way of life is reflected in the language. (And some days it's SO casual and SO relaxed that it drives my Type A personality bonkers. But that's another day...)

PS - A very big thank you to the Peace Corps for making these audio files and PDFs available.

Jan 12, 2010

Worst haircut ever...

I got the worst haircut of my life this past weekend. I told the stylist that I was growing it out, but wanted the back trimmed a bit to give it some shape. Apparently to her, 'shape' meant "bowl cut with a bit o' bald spots showing." Aïe, aïe, aïe, y'all. It is truly awful. There's a spot above my ear where the hair is cut as short as possible without cutting my skin. The only part that's not massacred is the bangs - and even that's debatable.

Some people suggested I just wear hats.

If I forget for a minute that I was trying to grow it out, it's just a (very) bad haircut. But when I remember that I've been painfully growing it out for SIX months now and am now sporting only 1/2 inch of hair in the back and it's much longer on on side than the other... Yeah, I was crying in the hallway when Jonathan answered the door. (Couldn't see through my tears to find my keys.)

So he held me while I cried, careful not to pat the offending hair. I worked up the courage to turn around and show him the back. (Poor guy. He probably hoped the front was the bad part. If only...)

I finally pulled myself together enough to attack it with some hairstyling products and divert attention with a headband. It helped... a little. I walked back out to show Jonathan the new and improved look. He paused quietly before swallowing a little smile and saying, "Look on the bright side: you weigh a little less with this haircut."

I love him. (And I still hate my hair.)