Birth

Today reconfirmed my fear of birth and babies, and perhaps left permanent emotional scars.
Today I watched a cow give birth.

Now to those who have seen birth before, and are saying, Ariel-- it's natural, beautiful even, I have this to say: You have no idea the things I saw. Seriously.

The calf was stuck, had to be pulled out which demanded Wim putting his entire arm up into the cow and repositioning the calf. After half an hour of pulling and pushing, and some of the worst cow labor pain screams you can imagine, the baby came out covered in all kinds of horrible fluids and sacks.
But it wasn't over then. The calf had apparently inhaled his placenta and was currently... drowning. In a truely terrifying moment Wim and Fien lifted the calf by his back legs into the air and shook him, then flopped him back to the ground and administered a botched cow-heimlich manuver/CPR until this gooey viscous liquid poored out the calf's mouth and it finally started breathing.
This whole time I was really not helping at all, and once it was over, I suddenly felt somewhat sick to my stomach. I went inside to sit down, and Fien, seeing my distress, pulled down a bottle of danish mead and some single malt whiskey.
After a few shots, I feel much better. Though I'm still totally traumatized. And I think the calf is too, or at least he should be.

Days

I have been on the farm now for a week and a half and have settled into a nice daily routine. I wake up at the leisurely hour of 830 every morning, and after a bit of nutella for breakfast, go pick up the jug of milk used to feed the calves. Already there are three new calves to feed, and playing with baby cows is a great way to start the day. The rest of the morning is for odd jobs, maybe feeding the pigs or fixing a fence. Lunch is on at noon, and then we take a nice long break to read or nap or just sit in the sun. Afternoons are spent doing bigger tasks like tilling fields or training horses. Ive taken to sitting on top of bales of hay and reading when there isnt anything specific to do. Dinner is at five, and is usually just bread and cheese, really awesome french artisan cheese. Then around 630, the farmer and I prepare for milking, and I milk the 50 cows while he does other chores. Finally when thats finished, I feed the calves, help to feed the cows, and then head inside just as the sun goes down to take a shower, eat some more spoonfulls of nutella, and climb into bed.
My hands are covered in scratches and bruises, and my body is just getting used to all this physical work, but Im sure its good for me, and I do feel very accomplished at the end of the day.
A

Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants

Last year my dear friend Jenny took a year off school to work for the Americore program CityYear. Besides all the great things the program offers-- a year of service, a chance to give back to the community--the most important thing Jenny recieved was this incredibly hanous pair of Timberland pants. These khaki pants sit at your natural waist, well above the bellybutton, and do the most unflattering things to every part they cover.
Why is this important? At the beginning of this trip, Jenny bestowed me with The Pants. And today they were put to good use. Currently they are covered in cow manure, milk spills, corn silage, and a variety of unknown bits collected throughout the day.
Yesterday on the farm we harvested all the corn with these big tractors that could harvest six rows at a time! The man driving let me ride along, but spoke no english, and seeing as how french 101 did not have a unit on farm vocabulary, we simply sat in silence while watching the crop get pulverized in the teeth of the tractor.
The corn silage, along with the grass silage previously harvested will feed the cows all winter long when the pastures are too muddy for them to go outside and the grass stops growing.
In the evening I went out to bring in the cows and saw a new little black and white spot underneath a cow. This baby calf had just been born and was still damp. It was a pretty great way to end the day.
Today I walked the to the little village nearby and had a coffee at the cafe. No one spoke english so my broken french did not get me as far as it did in Paris. On the walk back I picked wild blackberries. It all seems very French.
A

The Farm

I have always liked the notion that the world can be divided into those who shower before work, and those who shower after. After todays work, I certainly needed a shower.
I started the day by feeding the calves, then the pigs, then the horses. The ferrier came today to work on the horses hooves, and it turned into quite the drama when one horse bucked, and fell, getting stuck in the ferrier booth. After a pretty stressful half hour, she got herself out, thank goodness. This evening Wim taught me how to milk the cows. I really enjoyed it, though ended up completely filthy. Fed the calves again before taking a well deserved shower. This post isnt very poetic, but its because this european keyboard is driving me nuts, and I have to type with my pointer fingers and search for keys.
Tomorrow we harvest corn.
To bed.
Ariel

Walking

In this post I will write about Paris, walking, and the combination of both.
Tonight marked my last night in Paris, for now. I leave for Laval, and further, the farm, tomorrow at 2. I have spent many hours now walking through paris, aimlessly. My mocassins, built more for the short hunt than the long stroll, served me well in the narrow streets of the Latin Quarter, and the wide lanes at Versailles. I was able to meet up with fellow MoHo Grace, and together we traversed the Eiffel Tower, Arc de Triumph, Champs Elysees, Jardin des Tuileries and more, and then tonight, simply her hosts apartment. My french abilities have been tested, and I'd say, much like french 101, I would probably have earned about a B, which for only one year of french, I'd say is alright.
Took a taxi home tonight, and my driver was tres fantastique! He was determined to perfect my limited pronounciation, and we talked the whole way home, only he didn't speak any english, and I was very tired. Still it was great. Like when you use math in real life, and are just so pleasently surprised by it.
To the FJS'ers following this-- I've been eating the most amazing cheese. One almost as good as the nun cheese, but not made by nuns, so.... not quite. Still amazing though.
I feel lucky to be living such a charmed life at the moment, and am extremely greatful to all those who have made it possible, or have contributed to it.
Though I still feel like "that girl who went to Paris on a semester off of her liberal arts college in New England to take a break from the trying world of academia in order to see the world," I'm coming to terms with that identity, and finding it less problematic as the days pass. America already feels very long ago and far away, which is a good thing, I think. Also, the coffee really is much better here.
Tomorrow the real deal starts, I will write again as soon as possible. In the mean time, I've been truely loving the updates I've been getting from a few of you, and would love to hear more!
All my love,
A

First Days

Hello! I decided to start this blog to share my stories with you all, my friends, family, and loved ones. For those of you who aren't up to speed, or a bit confused, here's the story:
I have left America for the next three months to work on a dairy farm in rural france. I'm wwoof-ing, which stands for "world-wide opportunities in organic farming" and will be exchanging room and board for my labor. I've only taken one year of college french, and have prepared only slightly for this adventure, so my ideas about how this semester will go are unknown. I'm trying to live in that zen "here and now" mentality and take things as they come. No Reservations style. I will return in December. For now, I'm missing you all, but excited for this part of my life to begin.

I made it safely overseas, and am now in a small suburb of Paris, staying with an extremely generous family of a friend. After much travel, and a wonderful four day stay at MHC, I am now in Paris, city of love. Though I slept though most of day one yesterday, I more than made up for it today. I made it into the city, and visited the Pompidou Center for Modern Art. The gallery there was about a woman's place, or lack there of, in art and art museums. It was very provoking, and included a full gallery devoted to pornography. I have to say I felt a little under-cultured, and found myself walking briskly out of that room and headed for the Frida Kahlo paintings which offered something slightly tamer.
I then took a long walk down the Seine, and did some people watching. The Eiffel Tower was in front of me the whole time. I made it to the Louvre, and sat outside and ate a baguette before entering and wandering through the halls there. I found that I was one of the few in the museum who was not holding up a camera or video camera while looking at the art. I made a mental note that Jack Kerouac or H.D. Thoreau would be able to turn that observation into a sharp and witty commentary on society.
Finally I made my way back to St. Germain where I was picked up and brought back to this wonderful home I have the priviledge of staying in.
Traveling alone is quite the adventure, and I am relishing in the freedom that comes with it. Tomorrow is unplanned as of yet. Tuesday I head to the farm. Got an email that we will be harvesting corn this friday. Must get over jet lag by then.

All my love,
Ariel