Liberté, Egalité, Fraternité

It's going to be hard to write just one blog post about all that has occurred in the past few weeks. Our half-term break started on the 14th, and just ended yesterday, so else to do than to go to Paris? I was planning to stay with an acquaintance of mine, and work in a bookstore called Shakespeare and Company, but a last-minute change in plans led me to take refuge in a youth hostel for the trip. Not that I was alone, of course-- Kary came down to visit and we enjoyed each other's company in the famous City of Lights.

So, within that small amount of time, I've seen the Mona Lisa, climbed the Eiffel Tower and the Arc de Triomphe, experienced Mass at the Notre Dame Cathedral, and observed works from Degas, Picasso, Rodin, Van Gogh, Monet, and many famous artists.

 I've stood by the graves of Edith Piaf, Adolf Sax, Gioachino Rossini, Frederic Chopin, Oscar Wilde, Marie Curie, Napoleon, and Victor Hugo.

I've experienced the Sacre-Coeur Cathedral, the Catacombes of Paris, Sainte-Chapelle, the Conciergie, Les Invalides, La Bastille, the Champs-Elysees, La Place de la Concorde, the Cemetery of Pere-Lachaise, the Memorial of the Shoah and the Mur des Noms, the Moulin Rouge (no, I didn't go in), the Gardens of Luxembourg, Versailles, and the Palais Garnier.

I've walked through the Louvre, the Musee d'Orsay, the Musee de L'Homme, the Galerie d'Evolution, the Musee Rodin, the Centre Pompidou, and the Musee Picasso.

I've tried escargot, peach wine, kiri (like American cheese, but more French) and other European cheeses, countless types of jam, famous Berthillon ice cream, duck, and raisin mustard, saving room for lots and lots of traditional baguettes.

A chocolate replica of the Arc de Triomphe in a Museum in Montmartre.

It's also worth mentioning that I had a layover in Ireland on my flight back to the UK, so now I've officially been in five countries in all.

A military parade I happened to pass by next to the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier on the Champs-Elysees. 

I got around the city mostly on Velib, a bike rental company that has various stations around the city. I must say that my calf muscles are quite developed now after so much biking, and it was a great way to see the best of the city. As you might imagine, my French also improved dramatically after not having a lesson since the end of Senior Year. I'm so glad that Kary was there with me for some of the time, because Paris is a city with joys best shared with friends.

As always, below is a list of observations I made about my journey. It's not extensive, of course, but it's the best I can do because right now I'm procrastinating for writing an essay on the effectiveness of Congressional committees.

-Paris is the best place for window-shopping. Hands down.
-Pictures sometimes just don't do justice to a certain view. While I am glad I have so many visual souvenirs of what I experienced in Paris, the phrase "you had to be there" is pertinent to almost all of them.

Treats from Laduree, a famous shop in Paris. Those are all, like, 10 euros each.

-I can now read maps better than I ever did before. Oh, and I now also know the steps to take when said directions go wrong.
-Flexibility is absolutely necessary for anything while traveling-- activities, food, routes, even lodging. So is an open mind, especially when sleeping in a room with girls from six different countries at once.

-Biking through busy roundabouts at rush hour is one of the most stessful things on the planet.
-You don't have to 'get' art, or understand the meaning of the work, in order to appreciate it. I especially learned this at the Centre Pompidou, a contemporary art museum with a bunch of crazy works.

A work of art in the Centre Pompidou, which I don't get, but do appreciate.

-I did, however, have a few epiphany-like moments where I did 'get' works of art.
-Crepes are better in France, especially eaten on the banks of the Seine. Sorry, that's just how science works.
-Speaking of crepes, I wasn't fully used to the French diet, which is much less protein-heavy than that of the UK or the US. Not that this is a bad thing, of course.

-The stereotype of the French being snobbish or unfriendly is not entirely untrue (at least from my experience). I was beeped at/yelled at on the street at least 20 times during the trip for small blunders, even for going too slow. Plus, people looked at me funny when I ordered coffee in the afternoon, which is apparently a French faux pas.

A trans pride parade marching through the streets on a weekend.

-I've found that going off the beaten path and exploring lesser known districts is a great way to enjoy a city. This is how I came across the Cafe des Chats, and enjoyed an espresso while in the company of many furry friends.
-Then again, the path was usually beaten for a reason. I'm sure Kary would agree with me that climbing the Eiffel Tower was well worth the price.

Kary, being a cutie as always, except this time on the Eiffel Tower.

I must stress the point I made early about the importance having flexibility while traveling, especially by mentioning that it is the perfect remedy for anyone struggling with an eating disorder. Most of you know of my past battle with Anorexia, but going to France helped me immensely. I had no time to worry about what I was eating; plus, those macarons are just too good to stress out about. In all seriousness, I feel better about myself after the trip than ever.

This could partially be because of the immense perspective Paris brings; ancient sites and monuments often led me to reflect on the relative obscurity of life's little problems. After all, how can you focus on a bad hair day when you are walking through a city dating back to the Roman Empire, or walking through a tunnel made up of the bones of 6 million past lives?

The Catacombes of Paris. Creepy, yet peaceful.

Paris itself is a work of art, a canvas for humanity. Kary and I both marveled at the breathtaking architecture, the ubiquitous statues, and even the thought-provoking graffiti  throughout the town.

A work, again at the Pompidou, that's... interesting.

It is definitely a place to which I would like to return someday, or, if I'm not getting ahead of myself here, even live. I wish I could express all that I experienced here, and the treasures that surrounded me, but I will have to leave it at this for now. It is, however, nice to be back in the UK again with all my friends.

On a High Note: Music at Dollar

Before I graduated from Culver, Major Browne-- my orchestra teacher, neighbor, and quite possibly the person I admire most in the world-- advised me never to stop playing music, since it is a solace in good times and bad. After eight years in the Culver orchestra and about 16 years of musical schooling as a whole, his advice seemed reasonable to me-- after all, my attempts to quit music before have obviously been far from successful. It seemed only natural to continue at least some sort of musical activity after so much time and effort, even if it is frustrating at times. So, I took my mentor's instruction and decided to continue my lifetime hobby, just a thousand miles away from where I practice it usually.

To illustrate my activities and accomplishments in the music world at Dollar so far, I have written an open letter to Major Browne himself in the hopes that you readers will realize the immense positive influence he has held in my life.

Dear Major Browne,

Firstly, I want to thank you specifically for all the support and kindness you have shown, from just saying hi on the street to guiding me through my Honors in Music project last year. We've both "graduated" from Culver now, but your influence-- not only with myself, but many others as well-- will live on for years to come. I do miss orchestra, as I am sure you do as well, and I still loyally play those daily warm-ups before every practice. What really made it special, though, was your patience with me through it all, framing music as a solace instead of a chore (as how many band cadets saw it, I'm sure). It's why we were all so close, why we had so many inside jokes (parfaits? Everybody loves parfaits!), why we grew from basically an ensemble to dozens of members. You made more of an impact than you will ever know. And Mrs. Browne did, as well: "Hallelujah" for her and her fantastic brownie-making skills.

I admit it was hard at first to find the motivation to pick up music again after my arrival here. You know yourself how attached one can be to their own instruments: the ones here were unfamiliar, not to mention a whole quarter larger than the one I usually play. It's thanks to you, though, that I persevered through my musical rut. I remember your stories about your own personal experiences from quitting music, and feeling like there was something missing. And there was, after a while. So, after some talk with the very kind musical staff here, the school actually bought me my own 3/4 cello to use and keep in the House. From that point on, I have been playing consistently and happily at the school. While I am taking the year off from lessons, you would be proud of the progress I am still making by simply and purely playing.

The orchestra here is larger than the one you conducted at Culver, although it does lack the small community feel of the orchestra we both know so well. This may be because we only meet once a week on Mondays, and with the band too. The pieces we play are, to put it colloquially, awesome-- although nothing beats our own rendition of 1812 with cannons and chapel bells and the whole shebang. We are, however, playing quite a few sections of the Carmina Burana (yes, including O Fortuna), Malcom Arnold's Four Scottish Dances, and Milhaud's Brasileira from Scaramouche. Most of the pieces we are preparing now will be performed at Usher Hall in Edinburgh at Christmas, which will definitely be a high point for my year, and I believe that there will also be a formal Easter concert.

The Usher Hall Concert in 2015.

But I also decided to branch out from my usual musical activities, as well. As you know, orchestra and choir both met in the notoriously artsy B Block at the Academies, so I couldn't sing as much as I wanted to. You will be happy to know that I enjoy it as much as I do the cello. Chamber Choir meets every Wednesday and Thursday, and Mixed Voice Choir (an open choir) is on Wednesday as well. We have already had one performance-- an open rehearsal for an information dinner-- that went quite well. Sure enough, what you taught us in orchestra has also applied here: for example, I always think of your suggestion to "listen across" in order to better blend in to the voices. And, of course, subdividing always helps. It's like the cure-all for musical problems.

You would be amused at the rhythmic nicknames in Britain, as well: there are no half notes, quarter notes, or sixteenth notes. Instead, there are minims, crotchets, and quavers, respectfully. And, get this-- a 256th note would be called a demisemihemidemisemiquaver. Not that anyone would play that, of course, but try saying it five times fast anyway.

Otherwise, music is completely the same as it was in the States, just like how it would be anywhere else in the world. It really is the common language of the universe, a bond that ties humanity together. You couldn't have been more correct in saying that music will always be there, because it is. Thank you for showing me that.

Sincerely,

Arielle Pare

Soil Studies, Playing Cards, and White-Water Rafting

This week, the Advanced Higher Geography classes took a three-day trip to the town of Aberfeldy in Central Scotland to review the procedures of various surveys and experiments used in the study of Geography. All thirteen of us will be completing a survey throughout the year of our own choice, but in order to effectively gather analysis, we had to learn how to use the various equipment and techniques, we needed a bit or review first.

Aberfeldy does have a few claims to fame: firstly, its nickname--"the heart of Scotland"-- is as literal as it is metaphorical. It is in almost the exact center of Scotland, both from North to South and from East to West. In addition, the natural beauty of the town won attention by the poem "The Birks of Aberfeldy," which was written fondly by Robert Burns, the national bard (yes, Scotland has a national bard. Also, the national animal is a unicorn, which is pretty cool.) Aberfeldy is located on the River Tay, which leads to nearby Loch Tay, and is home to many beautiful animal and plant species. Therefore, it was perfect for the geography classes because it has immense variation of land use, and was also less than two hours away.

"The Armadillo," a cute little suite outside of our bunkhouse.

So, without further ado, here is a rough schedule we followed while on our educational adventure.

DAY 1- WEDNESDAY

The day officially began as I hurriedly ate breakfast inside the house, arrived at 7:50 at the school, and was shocked to find the parking lot completely empty. In the midst of panicking, I took out the schedule we were given (when in doubt, read the directions) and sure enough, the departure was at 8:50. So. A long and embarrassing hour later, We were on our way to the Heart of Scotland itself. We did stop about halfway to our destination, however, to study some glacial and glacial-fluvial deposits.

The bunkhouse was a quaint, cozy little place where we were able to relax after a long day.

After arriving to Glassie Farm and settling down in the bunkhouse where we stayed, we immersed ourselves in what was not exactly the most exciting part of our three-day adventure: soil studies. This is quite tedious work; groups had to collect soil samples from designated areas on deciduous forest, open rough grazing, and coniferous land while taking note of the vegetation in the area. We did see a horse, though, so everything was worthwhile in the end.

Darwin and Stephanie admiring this beauty. 

Finally, we came back to the bunkhouse and had a wonderful dinner of pepperoni pasta (my class's choice) before diving again into our soil study. I can't exactly say that I was super excited about the percentage of moisture in the soil, or the breakdown of clay, silt, and sand in the three different areas, but I did feel like I was learning quite a bit about geographical characteristics. After our work was done, we relaxed a bit by watching "The Great British Bake-Off" and playing numerous different types of card games. My favorite was "spoons," a fast-paced game not unlike Musical Chairs, except grabbing spoons instead when one person collected all four of a suit. Then, after a few games of Truth or Dare and some Dollar Academy gossip (which was way over my head: I was the only new pupil present, and they were all familiar with one another), we finally went to bed to rest before another exciting day.

DAY 2- THURSDAY

Our day began with some delicious homemade pancakes, but we were out of the bunkhouse as early as possible.The first study we completed was on the Cochil Burn, analyzing the velocity of the river on meanders and straight sections, as well as different rock types. There was actually a wind advisory warning for the weather, so I'll leave it up to your imagination what it was like down by the river. We waded to the top of our "wellies" (Wellington boots) for a few hours, marking down the various aspects while trying not to become too wet.

Lachlan and Mr. McConnell being completely unaware of the fantastic view behind them.

After eating our pack lunch on top of one of the awe-inspiring viewpoints of Aberfeldy, the geography class went to the center of the town to learn some human geography procedures. This involved marking down the use of buildings, environmental quality analysis of the area, and asking questionnaires to numerous passers-by we met. I do have to say that human geography is my favorite aspect of geography, and honestly, it was the reason I decided to take the course. Even the intimidation of going up to strangers and asking them to fill out a survey was better, at least to me, than standing out in a river measuring the size of pebbles. Plus, it was warmer in the center of the city. But, you know, to each his own.

We then went down to the beach of Loch Tay for a bit, not to carry out any studies, but to discuss hypothetical data-gathering should any of us choose to study beaches for our projects. It certainly was a beautiful area, especially with the rain only slightly visible in the distance between the hills.

In geography terms, this is called a U-shaped valley. Gotta use those vocab terms. 

One fiesta later (the other class made fajitas and basically threw a Mexican party while they were at it), we completed a short essay of a human geography and a physical geography hypothesis. This activity triggered ideas about our own surveys, and the techniques that interested us the most. Currently, I am considering carrying out a study in Stirling about either environmental quality, pollution, or safety, but I have until Christmas to decide. We finished quite late, around 9:30, played a few card games, and went to bed for our last night in Aberfeldy.

DAY 3- FRIDAY

As our time in Aberfeldy came to a close, we shared one last cooked breakfast together and cleaned up the bunkhouse for our departure. We still had a few science-y tasks to accomplish, such as collecting our rain gauges from the first day and measuring the rate of infiltration on different gradients of a slope. But as our work was mostly completed and done, we moved on to our last (and most exciting) activity: white-water rafting on the rapids of the River Tay.

Here we go...

Despite the satisfaction of crossing another activity off my bucket list, I can officially say that white-water rafting is definitely not my thing. The air temperature, not counting chill from wind and rain, was low 50's at least and the water seemed even colder. Yes, the waves were thrilling, but the time in-between just paddling in the cold--even in a wetsuit-- were close to miserable. Even worse, my feet were completely numb afterwards in my soaking wet sneakers. But I'm glad I went through with it, because I don't have to worry about doing it in the future sometime.

At the start of our journey down the river. I'm at the back, wearing a blue helmet.

Why, yes, that is our boat.

I have to say that I did learn quite a few new British phrases on this trip. I'm not sure how many of them were popular in the group, in the school, or in Scotland, but I must admit it was definitely amusing. "Gaff," for example, was used in the sense of a party/rave (as opposed to my prior context of a political blunder), and "chip" (paired with "chip not") is comparable with Americans "calling something (i.e. "I call shotgun"). Even though I mostly felt out of place since everyone else had known each other for years, I did get a chance to experience the group for who they actually were. And, sometimes, I felt like one of them.

The gang, all together.

Most importantly, Aberfeldy was fantastic in the sense that I was completely immersed in the science and beauty of geography itself. I still don't completely understand the total effects of glaciation, and I still can't wrap around some confusing vocab terms (see: "scree"), but that will come in time. The point is, I understand and appreciate the subject much better than I did before, and I know how to use the equipment in order to complete my main study for the year. I didn't consider myself a "science person" before I took the class, but as I see myself being curious about the material of the course, it may be time for me to reconsider.