By Tyler Anderson

Strasbourg, France

I have been lucky enough to not get sick in my time here.  That’s not to say that I haven’t missed class, as there is always a reason to miss class: there’s always great reasoning like, “I’m warmer here,” “I’m tired,” or “I went last time.” 

My roommate of sorts, Laura, is apparently not so lucky.  She got sick over the past day or two, and tonight at dinner she decided that she was not up to eating anymore.  I explained that she had mal à la gorge (a sore throat) and Francoise (my mère as opposed to mom, or French host mother) immediately started gathering things to make a sore throat drink. 

She said a couple words sort of to herself, and I made out lemon and honey, which sounded like quite the usual remedy for such a thing.  She started heating water, got a jar of honey, and started grinding a lemon by hand, to get the lemon juice in a tall glass.  Next, she reached past me, to get a bottle, which turned out to be rum.  She poured probably a shot and a half or two shots into the bottle.  I asked about it, and I don’t remember exactly what she said, but it was something along the lines of pour faire se grog, which I think both Laura and I understood as make her groggy or sleepy.  After that she added the honey and hot water, to what was, in the end, probably 1/3 to 1/2 rum.  I don’t know if it is a French thing or a my mère thing, but it was definitely different than expected and very amusing. 

Afterward, Laura went upstairs and Francoise and I talked for another 45 minutes or so.  I’m gonna have to ask Laura how the remedy worked, but I definitely didn’t hear any coughing after she went upstairs…  I demand rum be put in all sore throat remedies and other medicines immediately as well as be given eagerly to children, allowing it to be the cure-all that it apparently is.  A cure-all in the sore throat department at least.

Clermont-Ferrand, France

See American friend while leaving school. Say “Hi” to American friend. Talk to American friend. Share awkward moment with American friend. Laugh. Leave smiling.

See French friend. Say “Hi” to French friend. Wait to talk to French friend. Decide to leave as French friend is talking to other French friends. Wait for opportune moment to announce departure. Leave silently.

See French acquaintance. Say “It’s going well?” to French acquaintance. Listen to French acquaintance say “It’s going well for you, too?”. Reply definitive “Yes!” Leave.

Realize French acquaintance actually said “Hey.” Stop. Turn around in confusion. Make eye contact. See French acquaintance express confusion.

Apologize? Apologize. Break eye contact. Make eye contact. Break eye contact. Leave hurriedly. Realize that French acquaintance doesn’t have enough of a sense of humor to make the situation bearable.

Miss bus home by 20 seconds.

Strasbourg, France

I have been realizing more and more, as of late, the slight changes in myself, or at least my public self, since I’ve arrived here in Strasbourg. There are the cool, ego-stroking ones, like not having to think about what people say anymore when they talk to me, or being able to do something like order a sandwhich without a panic attack.  But there are the even smaller things that I don’t even notice.