I finally traveled to Sydney… IT WAS AMAZING! I went with a fellow crusader Elizabeth and new friend from USC Jen. Together we climbed the Sydney bridge, saw the Australian Ballet perform at the Opera House, and visited world famous Bondi Beach! I’ve attached some pictures… check em’ out! 
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SYDNEY!
Friday, March 16th, 2012
NEWvember
Sunday, March 4th, 2012I told myself I would be better at blogging. I know, it’s November. Unfortunately, my boring life paired with a very, very busy work and Uni schedule tends to prevent me to do so. But, it is Nov and I am going to make a better effort…
I have been here for almost four months and all I have done is work, attend university ( & do uni work), and socialize. The time has flown by, and now it’s time for final exams! I never thought I could be so stressed in the world’s most laid back country, but here there are fewer exams and they are larger percentages of the total grade in the class. As of now, I have two 50 percent exams, and two 70 percent essays to write. No pressure! I just can’t wait until the summer. I can’t wait to travel.
I have yet to really travel. But that is all about to change…I have booked my first REAL trip. On Nov 27th after final exams this girl is going to SYDNEY! 
I cannot wait! My first REAL traveling since I have been in Australia. I am also planning to go to Tasmania for New Years and to travel to New Zealand. So that’s what I am looking forward to at the moment.
I am so excited for all of the new and exciting things that await! But, as of now, my papers are calling…
Fantastic 4!
Sunday, March 4th, 2012Today marks the fourth month of my being in Melbourne! It’s amazing how time has flown! It’s wierd to think that just four months ago I was nervously walking off of the plane wondering if I had made the right decision to come to Australia.
Well, it is now four months later, I am in the midst of final exams, stressed beyond belief, PRAYING for it to end so I can get away from ALL that is Melbourne University!!! BUT, despite all of the stress of exams I am soooo happy that I came to Australia! Even though I have spent my four month anniversary with lovely Melbourne studying for my Biology final, my day has been pretty great!
Lollies,and Tim Tams,and Drop Bears! Oh My!
Saturday, February 11th, 2012I have been here a little over 11 weeks now, and after numerous occasions of being confused with the new Australian terminology and sayings, I finally think I may have it down…hopefully. So, I have listed below some of the many new words/phrases I have learned (& have been attempting to incorporate into my vocabulary).
Arvo- Afternoon
Aussie- (pronounced Ozzie) Australian
Bloke- Man
Brekkie- Breakfast
Blind- Very intoxicated
Bush- Outside the city
Cabbie- Taxi Driver
Chewy- Chewing gum
“Couldn’t be bothered”- Had no time, energy, or interest to do something/ complete a task.
Ex. I was going to clean my room, but I just couldn’t be bothered.
Doona- Quilt, Duvet
Drop Bear- Mythical aggressive bears that jump down from trees and attack people. This myth is told by Aussie’s playing jokes on unknowing foreigners to scare them. **If you are gullible like myself, you will discover this to be a joke only after weeks of being hesitant to walk by trees late at night.
Fanny- CAUTION when using, NOT to mistaken for one’s backside, it is actually quite the contrary.
Footy- Australian Rules Football
Fortnight- Two week period
Full On- Intense, relentless
“G’Day”- Hello
“Good Onya”- Good for you
Heaps- Lots, Many (One of my favorite)
“How you going?”- How are you doing today?
Jocks- Men’s underpants
Kiwi- Someone from New Zealand, or an endemic Australian bird
Loo- Toilet, Bathroom
Lolly- Candy
Maccas- McDonalds
Mate- Friend, or associate
Note- Currency that is not in coin form
“No Worries”- (Another favorite of mine) Your Welcome, No Problem, It’s okay, etc. A phrase with endless possibilities.
Oz- Australia
Prawn(s)- Shrimp
Pudding- Cake
“Reckon”- I think that
Ex. I reckon it will rain today.
Rock up- To turn up, to arrive
Seppo- American
Slab- Carton of 24 beers
Sticky Date Pudding- One of the best desserts ever created, consisting of cake, caramel sauce, and dates.
“Ta”- Thanks
Tim Tams- Delicious cookies explaining why there are no Girl Scouts in Australia.
Toilet- Bathroom
Uni- Short for University
Ute- Small utility truck, looks like a pick up truck that has been lowered
Vegemite- A dark brown Australian spread made from yeast extract. **Also, another opportunity for Australians to mess with foreigners, usually by having them smear a thick layer of vegemite on toast and “try” it, which is NEVER recommended.
Victoria Bitter- Beer
Wanker- An insult, directed toward rude or egotistical people
XXXX- Queensland’s Favorite Beer
Yank- American
“Yer”- Yeah
Z- Pronounced “Zed” not “Zee”
‘I can’t believe this thing flies!’
Monday, July 12th, 2010I am restless. I have already spent almost 22 hours aboard a plane squished in between my fellow economy passengers. The food is terrible and I am pretty sure that I have not made any friends with the flight attendants, who are irritated with my frequent questioning of “How much longer till we get there?” Luckily, we are almost in Melbourne. One six hour flight to California from Boston and another 15 hour flight from Los Angeles to Sydney, Australia completed. Now, we are in the home stretch, the final hour flight to Melbourne.
I was thankful to have two friends, Friederike and Elizabeth, accompany me on the journey to “Oz” (Oz is Australia, according to Liz’s handy Aussie dictionary). We three were greeted by several other smiling Holy Cross students once in Sydney, and all took the last flight together, each one of us wired from lack of sleep, or in some cases too much sleep, and pure excitement.
Aboard the massive Boeing 747, we all eagerly peer out the window toward our new home, the magical land of Oz. “I can’t believe this thing flies!” screams a fellow student, excited by the wonder of the scenery from 13,000 feet above. Everyone keels over laughing, “Well it’s a plane! I hope it would!” responds another.
Flash forward one hour. Once off the plane we all realize we have made it. We survived terrible food, compromising sleeping positions, and fears that we would never reach our final destination. Dorothy had to follow a yellow brick road, we had to fly across the world. Regardless, we made it, we have reached Oz, and it is even more beautiful and amazing than we could have imagined.
Best,
Simone
Mont Saint Michel
Wednesday, December 31st, 1969It’s going well! Class is actually pretty amusing, and my teacher is tough but interesting and very helpful. I’m beginning to notice improvements in my speaking ability. Of course, I’m also beginning to notice how nuanced all the different sounds in French are. Oops. So Tours in French isn’t pronounced like tours in English? Okay. There’s a difference in the sound between la rue and la roue? Okay. I’ve commenced serious work on my vowel sounds.
Life at L’Institut is not all work and no play though. Thursday, we took a trip in the afternoon to see Chanonceau, at chateau in the Loire valley and we also toured a winery. Despite a voluble tour guide and the entire world visiting the castle at the same time as we did, the Crusaders had fun and learned a lot too. Anne de Poitiers and Catherine de Medici built the chateau on a bridge over the Loire, a construction idea I had never seen before. But with all this excursion excitement, I most looked forward to Mont St. Michel on Saturday. An enthusiastic art history major, I had heard so much about the magnificent church precipitously perched atop a small mountain surrounded by the foaming ocean. Now, I finally had a chance to see it.
Waking up before the sun, I boarded the bus and tried to sleep for some of the four-hour bus ride. And without question, the end result was worth my stiff neck and burning eyes. After eating the picnic my French dad packed us, my friends and I ascended the steep slopes of the little mountain, and waited for our tour to begin. The building, breath-taking from far away and up close, mixes Romanesque and Gothic architecture to great effect. Even with our same garrulous, francophone tour guide and excess heat, I loved it. To get a brief repose after a fair share of climbing, our group headed to St. Malo, a popular beachside town situated not too far from Mt. St. Michel. We dined, watched a Michael Jackson impersonator go through five costume changes during his street performance, and walked along the beach. We even found a public bathroom we didn’t have to pay for. Not bad for some St. Malo neophytes.
Frenchies Veronica Forsythe, Sarah Cicchetti, myself, Caitlin Hodson, and Claire Borzner all posing for a Kodak moment in front of Mont Saint Michel.
A view of the beach at St. Malo with fortifications in the distance.
Paris, Je T’aime
Wednesday, December 31st, 1969
Apologies. I was abducted by aliens. Luckily, they were kind enough to eventually bring me back to France. Where did I leave off? Oh yes, I believe it was right before the Toussaint vacation (why take off one day when you can take off ten?). So with so much free time, my fellow Crusader Sarah Cicchetti and I trained over to Paris for eight days.
After a pretty painless train ride, we hopped off, and she and I cabbed over to the Champs-Elysées, where we would be staying for our sojourn. Well, the sights were sensational, and I hope I can let my pictures speak for themselves. The museums, the people, the buildings, the art, the clothes- everything was beautiful, just like you always imagined. English abounded, but we were able to sneak through with our French. We couldn’t help but cringe upon hearing tourists clamoring around with Southern drawls and pronouncing words like “loo-ver-ah” and “mer-see-bo-coop.”* But hey, whatever works for you. You’ll get where you need to go.
The trip was a success. From the Moulin Rouge to the d’Orsay and every little side street in between, Paris truly sparkled with an enigmatic magic. The French women’s step with élan and the buildings brimming with Baroque flourishes color the city charismatic and cool. It’s truly a singular city. And hey, you may even run into old friends from Tours. No matter what your experience surprises you with, just remember to ask for sparkling water when you wander into a Louis Vuitton four stories high.
*NB: Many French words such as “Louvre” or “merci beaucoup” do not pronounce the final syllable. Should you find yourself in Paris, try to avoid this mistake.
A Scientist in France
Wednesday, December 31st, 1969Hi Friends!
If you can believe it, my five fellow Crusaders and I have now been in France for two whole months. As such, it is only appropriate that I provide an unbiased evaluation. Lucky for you, I have conducted tenacious analysis and completed daunting qualification of quantitative experiences. I believe a preliminary hypothesis I developed back in Tours (in the clandestine corner of a coffee shop, aptly named The French Coffee Shop), now has sufficient proof to become a theory. And much like Einstein’s Theory of Relativity or Darwin’s Theory of Evolution, I am ready to present my results, despite the fact it may not be a law:
Hypothesis (flagrant stereotype):
French cultural norms would be eviscerated with acerbic celerity in the United States.
Experiment (daily observation):
-Lemonade stands are illegal, as is having two jobs. That is not a typo.
-Some days, the newspapers just aren’t printed (oui, vous Le Monde).
-During the month of August, nearly every store is shut down.
-Stores also like to close on Mondays.
-Many businesses, including the post office, take a two-hour lunch break (smoking can take up more time than one might think).
-“Edible” cheese can be entirely moldy, as in completely blanketed in the color green.
-There exist lingerie stores… for men. Just for men, like the hair-coloring product.
-Often times, using the restroom in public places requires payment.
-The notion “pick up after your pet” is more foreign than the terrain of the planet Neptune.
-Bus drivers do not always know their route.
-Teachers do not always provide their students with a book list or bibliography even six weeks into a class.
-Occasionally, one’s cell phone will deliver a message up to four days late.
-Primary school children only have school four days a week. See ya Wednesday!
-Here and there, a waitress will drop a carafe on a child’s head before it shatters on the cobblestones spilling its aqueous contents every which way. I wish I were making this up.
-A strike can happen any time, anywhere. This month’s topic: changing the retirement age from sixty to sixty-two (this month, last month, next month, etc).
-Now and then, a student will answer his or her cell phone in class and proceed to carry on a conversation. The teacher often says nothing.
-Drivers often invent parking spaces if one does not exist. Regard for means of egress or pedestrian accommodation is as real as the Tooth Fairy’s twelve-year-old molars. See image below (not of her molars, silly goose).
Analysis (comparison to American daily life):
Due to the litigious and quick-paced nature of the American people and their market-based economy, an average Marylander might find himself somewhat culture-shocked.
Conclusion (my theory):
The French way of life is quite different from that of the typical American. So, yes the aforementioned egotistical, xenophobic hypothesis would be more or less correct. But with refocused global lenses, I may revise my premise a little. The calmer tempo of French daily life that focuses more attention on family and friends is a welcomed change for an adventure-seeking Crusader. For any American, these changes would be difficult, but place a French person in the US, and he or she would have the same difficulty. This is what I call the Weyland Theory of Cultural Relativity. All it takes is some perspective.
It Ain’t Always Easy
Wednesday, December 31st, 1969Stitched together, the colors of emotion I have felt here in Strasbourg create quite a technicolor quilt. Fear and fascination are mingling with anxiety and anticipation. Red roofs remind me I’m not in Worcester anymore. My humble pink house here hardly resembles my gray home back in Maryland. In the streets, streaming threads of brunettes and blondes, without a redhead in sight, poke at my Holy Cross heartstrings like a pin. No indeed: on Mount Saint James I am not. Yes: I miss my home and my Holy Cross.
But my homesick heartache blushes at the hope of the future. I have only just begun to weave my story abroad. Words lost in translation or stumbled over in French comprise but a patch of this experience. I am finding that I could not be with a warmer, cozier family who is here to help me create the most fantastic time in France. In simpler words (and in response to my last post), they don’t hate me, right-handed people, or kids who got sunburned once. They even have Wifi. If my family is any reflection on the kids I’m going to be meeting once class starts tomorrow, I might make it after all.
So what does this mean? I don’t think I ever could have anticipated the hurdles and challenges my fellow Crusaders and I have faced here. The culture, the language, and even the food are far more complex than at first glance. It is not possible to find your way perfectly from Gallia to Homme de Fer the first time without a little help and patience. You may have to ask what the difference between the tarte flambée and the galette is. But it’s like pulling a big blanket all the way above your head in bed at nighttime. At first it’s completely dark and lonely. But after a while, your eyes adjust, you get comfortable, and soon enough you have cozily settled into your own personal niche. Oh, and there’s your stuffed panda by your elbow. For right now though, let’s just say I’m only barely able to make out the stripe pattern a few inches in front of my face.
Chez Hubert in the European Parliament quarter of Strasbourg. A little close to the street for my personal comfort.
The very vintage key to my home, sitting next to some “fric” on my bureau. Fric is French slang for dolla dolla bills.
Back to School
Wednesday, December 31st, 1969Dear Université de Strasbourg,
I’m so glad to return to school finally! After a whole month here in your home country, I really looked forward to stepping back into the classroom. I want to thank you for letting me study at your school! It looks like it should be a good year.
I must say, though, you certainly didn’t make it too easy. Back in America, we sign up for classes on the Internet. We receive an electronic version of the course list that includes a comprehensive list of all the classes in each department. I will say I do appreciate the way your system works though too. I certainly worked off a lot of those bread and cheese calories walking to each individual department located in various buildings scattered across the city to pick up the paper copy of that subject’s course listings, and then returning the following week to stand in line so that I could register for the classes I wanted to take. (Out of breath after that sentence? So was I.) With a lot of help from our academic advisor over here (and good walking shoes), I finally completed my enrollment. I found some great art history classes and an interesting course on Guy de Maupassant.
Now, I never would have guessed how keen you were at keeping your students on their toes. I suppose all the schedule and classroom changes make back-to-school that much more exciting. I didn’t know you pushed back my French literature class one hour. But, I did learn a lot about the mathematics of literature when I sat in on that other course in the same classroom at the time my Maupassant lecture was supposed to start. I know you just want to expand my academic interests and deepen the profundity of my life experience. However, I do wish you had told me that my Renaissance discussion group had moved. My French is okay, but my ancient Greek has become a little shoddy recently. Can you give me a hint as to where I can find that Renaissance class? My Greek professor didn’t know.
Well, I’ve learned you like to do things a little differently than I am used to back home at Holy Cross. But despite these Jedi mind tricks, I actually am looking forward to the classes I’m going to be taking. My professors seem smart, nice, and they don’t speak too quickly. The students I talked to have been incredibly helpful and good-spirited. I might just get the hang of this after all.
With anticipation, curiosity, and newly-minted, yet particularly defined calf muscles, your friend and student,
Mark Weyland