PUNK'D BY THE FRANCAIS

03-24-09

My first night in the beautiful city of Paris was extremely memorable not only because I was overwhelmed by the scenery, but because I was a victim of a French prankster.

A handful of our group dined out at a fondue restaurant near Notre Dame and got real taste of what France had to offer.

Suzanne Yada and I, being the daring individuals that we are, tried escargot for the first time. The French couple sitting behind us were amused when watching Suzanne fling shells across the table as they slipped out of the grip of the prongs.

Our garçon seemed frustrated as he watched us Americans struggle to get the snail out of its shell. He disappeared to the back of the restaurant, returned with a metal hammer and bludgeoned the shell in front of me. The garçon presented me with the snail's meat and I was surprised how delicious it tasted.

After finishing our authentic French cuisine, we put together 116 Euros to pay the bill. We set the bill on the side of the table and all of a sudden a man grabbed the Euros and ran out the door.

Everyone was confused and thought we got robbed and I was so afraid we were gonna have to pay again or wash dishes in the back to cover our meal. But the act was a prank and the man who grabbed the Euros was the owner of the restaurant.

Bursting in laughter he walked back into the restaurant and asked: "What would you have done if someone really did that?" I didn't have an answer to that question but the whole table breathed a sigh of relief that the robbery was only a prank.

I need to be more aware of my surroundings while in a foreign country and try not to get punk'd again during the rest of my stay in Paris.

Brielle Washington

A REUNION

This spring break, I could have seen New York, I could have picked up an internship, I could have stayed home and saved my quickly dwindling funds from hemorrhaging even further.

There was a reason I picked this trip. Guess which one:

1) To advance the noble journalism profession.

2) To enhance my portfolio with international coverage.

3) To meet a challenge to my journalistic abilities and to rise above them.

4) My violin.

Yes yes, I'll say all of the above, but it's that number 4 that sold me.

Let me explain. Four years ago I lived in Nottingham, which is about two hours north of London, for about eight months. I planned to go to university there in 2007, and I even went so far as to move half my belongings - including my violin - to my good friend's room in a Nottingham suburb.

Then my university funding fell through, and my bank account couldn't afford to free up enough cash for another trip to England anytime soon. I could have my friend just ship the stuff home, but it would have cost just about the same as a plane ticket. He agreed to hang on to it for me until the next time I found myself in Old Blighty.

It took me a year and a half to return.

I missed my violin like crazy at moments, in that way that only happens when something you take for granted is all of a sudden missing. You don't know what you've got 'til it's gone, Joni Mitchell reminds us, and now that my good friend has dragged all of my belongings from Nottingham to London on a coach ride, I know what I've got, and I am extremely grateful.

Tomorrow I just might break it out and busk. I could do it as a fundraiser for the journalism department at SJSU. Or it could be a fundraiser to save the starving students of the world, aka me. Either way, carpe diem.

Suzanne Yada
Managing Editor

Magazine Journalism

www.suzanneyada.com