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	<title>HMS Vicky</title>
	<link>http://www.hmsvicky.com</link>
	<description>goes dutch</description>
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		<title>New France Ahoy!</title>
		<description><![CDATA[
I had a revelation when I realized I would be writing this entry in hip café with free wi-fi. I&#8217;m enjoying a big chai latte looking out at the bustling street of brunch-goers and shoppers. There are some bubbles floating by the cafe entrance and, across the street, a poncho-wearing mouse who&#8217;s handing out flyers is talking [...]]]></description>
		<link>http://www.hmsvicky.com/2010/05/30/new-france-ahoy/</link>
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		<title>This must be it</title>
		<description><![CDATA[
It kind of felt like it was the Armageddon. We were huddled in the windowless kitchen of the hostel&#8211;like a bright, unusually cheerful bunker. Everyone sat around drinking, discussing their plans for the future, trading exit plans and information. We were all glued to the hostel&#8217;s four computers and our cell phones. In between our [...]]]></description>
		<link>http://www.hmsvicky.com/2010/04/20/this-must-be-it/</link>
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		<title>Le sacre du printemps</title>
		<description><![CDATA[
Wintzenheim &#8211; 24/02/2010 
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		<link>http://www.hmsvicky.com/2010/02/26/wintzenheim-24022010/</link>
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		<title>Vie de merde</title>
		<description><![CDATA[
Today I finally understood why Albert Camus could write about such length about &#8220;the absurd.&#8221; He&#8217;s French. Of course this revelation came after a dalliance with the Office of Immigration and Integration. The way things work in this country is so preposterous sometimes, it could only be described as absurd. Sometimes the people, offices and [...]]]></description>
		<link>http://www.hmsvicky.com/2010/01/22/vie-de-merde/</link>
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		<title>You&#8217;ve got cucumbers on your eyes</title>
		<description><![CDATA[
Once I get settled into a city, it can be hard to get me to leave it. I attribute it to Torontonian syndrome. This means always paying lip service when friends suggest you visit them in Ottawa or Kitchener, but secretly loathing the idea of taking a Greyhound out there. Those who live downtown are [...]]]></description>
		<link>http://www.hmsvicky.com/2009/12/08/youve-got-cucumbers-on-your-eyes/</link>
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		<title>Bank holiday/Back to work A.G.A.I.N.</title>
		<description><![CDATA[
Two weeks I ago I taught my class before the one-and-a-half week Toussaint holiday. This terminale (the final year of high school) class was the first class I ever taught. It consists of mostly boys who told me about the virtues of pimp rap during our first session together. They were opinionated, funny and pretty [...]]]></description>
		<link>http://www.hmsvicky.com/2009/11/09/bank-holidayback-to-work-again/</link>
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		<title>And it&#8217;s no movie, there&#8217;s no Michelle Pfeiffer</title>
		<description><![CDATA[
Since I arrived I&#8217;ve been avoiding the question about what I think about France. Each time I answer, &#8221; I&#8217;ve only been here for (such and such time.) It&#8217;s too early to tell. Ask me later.&#8221; Then one week grew into two, two grew into three and now I&#8217;ve been here a full month and [...]]]></description>
		<link>http://www.hmsvicky.com/2009/10/21/and-its-no-movie-theres-no-michelle-pfeiffer/</link>
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		<title>I have known terror dizzy spells</title>
		<description><![CDATA[ 
Every time I come home from abroad it feels like no time has passed. My parents are always there waiting for me at arrivals. After a brief, glad but unemotional reunion, we head towards the parking lot. Before we can make it to the car, some kind of bickering will break out between the three [...]]]></description>
		<link>http://www.hmsvicky.com/2009/09/21/i-have-known-terror-dizzy-spells/</link>
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		<title>Taiwan: touch your heart</title>
		<description><![CDATA[I&#8217;m writing from the Taiwan Taoyuan International Airport (again.) One year ago (almost to this day) I was standing at the Schiphol airport in Amsterdam at the boarding gate. My first signs of dread only appeared when I saw my fellow passengers toting Aritzia carry-on bags and heard the sounds of native English swirling around [...]]]></description>
		<link>http://www.hmsvicky.com/2009/08/23/taiwan-touch-your-heart/</link>
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		<title>And you may ask yourself&#8211;Well, how did I get here?</title>
		<description><![CDATA[
I&#8217;m standing in a retirement home somewhere in northern, rural Taiwan next to a Taiwanese grandma. I met her while hitchhiking at a cemetery and now she&#8217;s showing me her family members, clad in full-dynasty wear, in a 150-year-old photograph. A lot of the time here in Taiwan, I wonder if my day can get [...]]]></description>
		<link>http://www.hmsvicky.com/2009/08/01/and-you-may-ask-yourself-well-how-did-i-get-here/</link>
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