Remembering

"There's a graveyard in northern France where all the dead boys from D-day are buried. The white crosses reach from one horizon to the other. I remember looking over it and thinking it was a forest of graves. But the rows were like this, dizzying, diagonal, perfectly straight, so after all it wasn't a forest but an orchard of graves. Nothing to do with nature, unless you count human nature." -Barbara Kingsolver

After any sort of tragedy, or sorrow, human nature is to crave order. We find comfort in structure, and neatness. Any sort of chaos is maddening. Before we went to the American gravesite in Normandy, we visited the memorial in Caen. The museum started off with information about World War I. You started at the top and the walls were smooth and white. As the exhibit led into the start of World War II, you started to descend downwards, and the walls got darker and rougher. The subject matter itself grew heavier. The dark twisty spiral symbolic of the war perfectly juxtaposed the flawless rows of stark white graves which depicted the aftermath. Perfect order, structure, neatness.

The actual graves actually seem like an optical illusion when you look out at them. It really is dizzying. And somber. Inscribed on the tombs isn't the day the soldiers died, but the day their body was found. Because most of the men who are buried in that cemetery died on the same day--June 6th 1944, D-day, Jour-J, whatever you want to call it. When we started the tour of the cemetery, the guide posed a question. "Have you ever stood in a place where the course of history changed forever?" Interesting to think about. But you feel it in that place, you feel the history, you connect with it. Walking along Omaha Beach, which is now serene and peaceful, forces you to reflect on all the organized chaos that happened there a mere 60 years ago. It forces you to remember. It wasn't that long ago. We learn about D-day as though it happened in some far away land, a long time ago. For us, it's in the past. But on the beaches, and in the cemetery, and in the towns that were left in ruins, this war is very much a part of the present.

I always find it fascinating to learn about world history through the eyes of another country. France has it's own take on World War II that is completely different than the one that we have in the US. And the stereotypical American perception of France's involvement in the war is far from accurate. The memorial in Caen also had an exhibit on the Cold War. The Cold War is something I've never learned about outside of the US. Every culture has a tendency to gloss over the parts of their history that tarnishes the country to some extent. It's just interesting to think there are always at least two sides to every story, and we consistently only ever hear one.

"Someday, many years from now
We'll sit beside the candles glow
Exchanging tales about our past
And laughing as the memories flow
And when that distant day arrives
I know it will be understood
That friendship is the key to live
And we were friends and it was good."
-Eileen Hehl

This week has been filled with friends of all types--old friends, new friends, family friends, family that are friends, french friends, german friends, friends in need, and friends willing to lend an ear. While I still miss everyone back in the US, the people and the things here are starting to feel a lot like home now too.

On Tuesday I started my lecture classes. I'm taking three lectures, each is 2 hours one day a week. We were all pretty eager to start them because they seemed like they would be interesting. So we thought. While neither the art history lecture nor the literature lecture was particularly interesting, I could at least sit through them and focus on the French for at least a good chunk of the time. The Paris lecture however, was something close to torture. Absolutely terrible. Two hours of monotone French over whatever subject he felt like exploring at the time.


So after an incredibly boring day of classes, Carolin, Gabi and I decided that we were just going to have to cave and go out on a Wednesday. We met up with a friend of Carolin's and some of his friends. It was an odd mix of French, German, and English, but we ended up having a great, great night. And only 3.50 for a pint! So far, that's the best deal we've been able to find.

Thursday, Erick (a family friend who lives in Paris) and I were finally able to connect for lunch. We had a good meal, and good conversation, plus I managed to leave with one more umbrella than what I came with.

Today I wandered a lot (much to the dismay of my shins I might add). When I left the Crous to get on the RER to go home it was grey, windy, raining. Basically Parisian weather at it's finest. And when I came out of the metro a mere 15 minutes later...clear skies, beautiful weather. Since this has been happening frequently as of late (it's usually the other way around, I go into the metro and it's nice out, but when I come out it's terrible), and I've found that Parisian weather can be very temperamental, I decided to make the most of the sunshine while it was here. So I walked, and walked, and walked some more. I walked for almost 3 hours until my feet just couldn't take it anymore. But that's what I love so much about Paris. I can just walk out my door and be in a different world in a matter of ten minutes.

But the thing I'm finding is, as great as Paris is...it's nothing if you don't have people to share it with. Yes, solitude is both appreciated and necessary at times. But half the fun of exploring today, was telling people about it later, having them share in the excitement, comparing experiences. People are the reason I loved my life in Spain, they're the reason I love my life in Cincinnati, the reason I love my life in Columbus. The same holds true for here. Paris is amazing, because I have great people to share it with, both here and at home. And that, is really all you need.

Taking Control

"Life is like riding a bicycle. To keep your balance you must keep moving." Albert Einstein

If you pause too long to dwell on what's behind you, you will inevitably crash. If you look too far ahead of you, you're also bound to run into something. Lately I've been feeling restless. I am very ready to travel to the north of France this weekend; I have a feeling it will be a very welcome change of scenery. City life is great, it's never dull (and if it is you're probably not taking full advantage of the city), there's always activity, always motion. Most of the time, this is what I crave--a locale that's bustling all hours of the day. But sometimes a break (or une petite pause if you will...the french word seems to be more fitting in this sense) is necessary.

And I think what's been missing from this experience for me so far is that curiosity that I had in Spain. I miss the mentality, the "Where are we going to go this weekend?" way of thinking. While I am enchanted with Paris (I think I fall in love with this city a little more every day), it can be very overwhelming. The Parisians with their "savoir-faire," are at times intimidating. For instance, the other day, it was absolutely gorgeous outside, mid 50's and sunny. So instead of staying in my room, I decided to venture out to a cafe along the canal and do my homework there. I searched for a cafe that had relatively low prices and was on the lookout for the tell-tale "zone wi-fi" sign (pronounced wee-fee :) ) I found one no more than a block from our apartment. I walked in, said an apprehensive Bonjour to the men behind the counter, and since they did not direct me to a table, I found one myself towards the back of the restaurant. There was a waitress there serving the people around me, but she refused to make eye contact with me. I started to question my decision to sit down without ordering. But no, there was a drink menu at my table, why would there be a menu if you were supposed to order when you walk in? But the waitress left, and another waiter came in to begin his shift. As he cleared the tables around me, I tried to get his attention. But to no avail. At this point I've already opened my laptop and have been using the wi-fi. I'm afraid if I leave, they will be angry that I used the wi-fi without buying anything. So I apprehensively approach the bar and explain that I would like a cafe noisette and that no one had come to take my order. The man behind the bar seemed shocked (however, I couldn't make out whether or not this was sarcasm). He apologized and repeated my order--un cafe noisette.


So I continue to do my homework, anxiously awaiting my caffeine fix. And I watch the tables around me fill with people. I watch them order. I watch their drinks come. But no cafe noisette. At this point in time I've been there almost an hour. Had I been in the US and this happened I would have complained to someone and remedied the problem. But here is that I don't have a broad enough vocabulary to complain politely. And of course I assume that I am the one that doesn't know what I'm doing. Even though my instinct tells me otherwise, I question whether or not I messed up somehow. Maybe I was supposed to order when I walked in? Maybe I wasn't supposed to sit in this section? Maybe I mis-pronounced my order and they didn't understand? Maybe they're just being rude and I should take it as a cue to leave?

I finally flag down yet another waiter and order again. And he promptly brought out the coffee I had been waiting for. Finally.

Yesterday, I did the scariest thing I've ever done in my life to date. I walked head-on at a pigeon on the sidewalk. Okay so that's not really that scary, but anyone who knows me, knows that I am terrified of birds. Aunt Mary can attest that the last time I was in Paris I would honest to God, walk to the other side of the street to avoid pigeons. So for me...that was groundbreaking.

Wanderings in Paris

"Not all those who wander are lost." JRR Tolkien

But sometimes those who wander really are lost. But lost is a somewhat vague term. For instance, on Saturday, after being shooed out of the apartment I decided to meander along the canal for a bit. I had absolutely no idea where I was headed...I believe southwest was my general direction. So I was lost in the sense that I didn't know exactly where I was or where I was going to end up. But I didn't have a particular destination in mind so I wasn't lost in the sense that I should have been elsewhere. I actually stumbled upon a really cool Brocante that just happened to be passing through. I spent well over an hour leisurely walking through the stalls, examining the little treasures, and intently watching people. After the Brocante I continued to walk away from the apartment and conveniently ran straight into a set of stairs leading down to the metro. Had it not been for my dying ipod and freezing extremities, I probably would have continued. A five minute metro ride later and I was back into familiar territory.

Earlier on Saturday I met Carolin and Emily at the end of line 4 so we could go exploring Les Marches Aux Puces, which are French flea markets (and one of the few phrases that actually directly translates...The Markets of Fleas). The market we found ourselves, however, was not the one we had anticipated. Instead of antiques and interesting trinkets, we were met with dirty men selling knock-off purses, shoes, perfume, boxer-briefs, and everything in between. Not quite what we had envisioned. And since we found ourselves in the ever-charming north suburbs (that was sarcasm by the way), we decided not to wander too far. We eventually found what we were looking for and spent a good amount of time pouring over the stands that housed all sorts of knick-knacks..some junky, some with historical relevance, some fascinating, and some just plain creepy. Around two hours at Pt de Clgnancourt was about all we could handle for one afternoon.


Saturday night I had an amazing dinner with Gabi's parents who are visiting for the week. It was the first truly fabulous meal I've had in Paris for this trip at least. We started off with a few appetizers, croustillant de tomates et mozzarella, and les escargots. For the main course I had a veal chop with roasted garlic, roasted tomatoes, potatoes, and a wonderful oil based thyme sauce. For dessert we all split three of the dishes--a warm apple tart, some sort of baked chocolate amazingness, and a meringue dish with a vanilla almond cream sauce. And of course wine and baguette throughout the whole meal. The whole affair lasted well over three hours--Gabi and I didn't make it home until after midnight. A delicious, typically European meal if I don't say so myself.

Sundays here always start in a very lazy manner for me. I normally have some trouble dragging myself out of my red wine-induced coma, especially when I know I'm waking up to instant coffee and soggy cereal. As of 10:30 all I wanted was to crawl back into the warmth of my bed and do nothing all day long. I attempted to download the last two episodes to Sex and the City, but to no avail. I paid $2 per episode to only listen to the dialogue, no video. But then Carolin texted me. I took these two events a signs that I should actually attempt to do something with my day. I did some homework and then began the trek to go meet Carolin.


We were in search of a mural by Keith Haring that is painted on a staircase at a children's hospital somewhere between the 7th and 15th arrondissements. We found the mural and found ourselves in an area of Paris that neither of us had ever visited before but one with spectacular views of the Eiffel Tower. Since I've tried to neglect acting like the tourist that I am, I hadn't taken the stereotypical pictures of La Tour Eiffel quite yet. But we decided to roam in the general direction of the tower with the notion that we would stumble across a coffee shop of some sorts. The thing about the Eiffel Tower is you never know how far you actually are from it. It towers (ha) over all surrounding buildings so no matter where you are in the city, it always looks relatively close. So we wandered towards it and then of course ended up in a heavily touristy area with no chance of finding a good cup of coffee for under 5 euro anywhere. So we decided to walk away from the tower, away from the other tourists, and away from the gypsies waving tiny Eiffel Tower replicas in your face. The key to dealing with these men is to never under any circumstance make eye contact. They will swarm to you like pigeons (another thing I was eager to escape from).

Finally we found a brasserie that looked free of English speakers in a quieter neighborhood. We had another great meal and shared two salads. Both came with fresh slices of baguette and a house dressing. Mine had shrimp, grapefruit, pineapple, avocado, and tomatoes on it. Carolin's came with potatoes, hard-boiled eggs, avocado, haricots verts, peppers, and tomatoes. They were both delicious and of course we had to have our coffee after the meal. We did as the French do and took well over an hour to finish our tiny cups of espresso and got lost in conversation.

Lost in Translation

"Americans who travel abroad for the first time are often shocked to discover that, despite all the progress that has been made in the last 30 years, many foreign people still speak foreign languages." Dave Barry

So this new girl came up to me in class today. I'm a few minutes early because I finally discovered the train-like beast that is the RER (different story)--I'm reviewing my homework which is all in French mind you. I show no signs of being American let alone signs on speaking English. So this girl comes up to me and straight away starts rambling on in English (there are more than 11 nationalities represented in our 20 person class so it's a bit presumptuous to assume I will understand her). I smile politely and respond to her questions in French, but she's not taking the hint. And this is why I understand why Parisians, French people, and foreign people in general become annoyed with us sometimes.

I'm constantly surprised at how many people speak English here. In restaurants, stores, cafes, everywhere, if you speak with the slightest trace of an American accent, they will respond to you in English. As someone who is here to practice speaking French, I find this particularly frustrating. Sometimes it's clear that my French is better than their English would be, so French should be the preferred language. Not the case.

Thank god for dinners here. Mme Dugan insists that we speak French at the table, as she should, and I can tell even in the small amount of time I've been here that the hour or so of conversational French has been so incredibly helpful. And she's not afraid to correct us, which is great in some senses but it can sometimes be a bit abrasive. French people don't hide their feelings at all. If they disagree with something that you're saying, you will know it and then some. For instance we started talking about reading and books at dinner the other night. Mme Dugan asked what types of books we liked to read. I explained that I enjoy reading thought-provoking books at times but the books I read purely for pleasure are murder/mysteries. She asked which authors I preferred, I listed a few...Mary Higgins Clark, Patricia Cornwell, and then I made the grave, grave mistake of saying Dan Brown. While this particular anecdote is significantly funnier in French, it went a little something like this..."Non. Non, non, non. He has absolutely NO talent. (while shaking her head and hand simultaneously) He is a terrible author who doesn't know how to write at all. His books require not intelligence to read. Non. No talent whatsoever."

I explained I don't read his books for their literary quality necessary, it's more of an escape. "Non." She told me. "I disagree. He cannot write. A terrible choice." Sheesh, be a little more blunt about it. But the French think nothing of a discussion like this. While American culture dictates more, ahem, polite ways to express disagreement, the French think that this is perfectly normal, socially acceptable, and quite healthy.

Tonight we had homemade ravioli with an amazing cream sauce, along with roast chicken...aaaand chips and guac? And odd combination I know, but it was delicious. We had an incredible salad on Wednesday after we came back from Les Bateaux Mouches. Initially we were disappointed because we were very much looking forward to a hot meal after the damp cold that sinks into your bones here in Paris. But it was great, it's moved to the top of my list of things I want to attempt to recreate when I come home (I've decided I will probably have to have a month long cooking marathon of sorts). It had rice, corn, ham, tomatoes, olives, cheese, and hard-boiled eggs with a homemade dijon vinaigrette. With a fresh baguette and cheese on the side. Mmm, it was awesome.


Tonight Mme Dugan posed the question "Est-ce que vous savez comment de tenir les ciseaux?" Les ciseaux? I responded, making a cutting motion. I was fairly certain she had just asked if I knew how to use scissors but was apprehensive because it was such an odd question. But no, that was indeed what she asked me. Well yes I know how to use scissors... "Good. Tomorrow you will cut my hair. I just need a straight line."
Um. What?? I tried to back-pedal explaining I'm left-handed and can't hold normal scissors very well. "But you know how to use them, right?" Well, yes. "Good, then we will try tomorrow and you will cut my hair."

Awesome, somehow I got tricked into giving my host mother a hair-cut. I feel like this is a disaster waiting to happen. Also I'm pretty positive she started the dinner conversation tonight by asking me if I was gaining weight since I've been here. Oh how I love this language sometimes.

Mona Lisas and Mad-Hatters

"It would be so nice if something would make sense for a change." -Alice In Wonderland

Of course the point of studying abroad is to experience new things, new people, new surroundings, new languages...new everything. But sometimes...it's too much new. Sometimes the littlest things can be incredibly overwhelming. But I've found the best way to deal with these types of situations is to laugh at them. I firmly believe that it's imperative to find humor in almost everything. You can't take life too seriously.

I made my first note-worthy language blunder of the trip on Saturday night. We were out in the Bastille area (which is probably the most happening quartier we've been out in so far) and were in a very crowded bar. In the rush of trying to decide which drink to order and calculating which would be the better deal, I mistakenly order an entire liter of beer. Gabi caught the mistake before I did, asking "Did you really mean to order a liter?" "Um, no" I replied as the bartender handed me my pitcher. Oops. Needless to say I had the hiccups the whole metro ride home.

Sunday we decided to try to go to a Robert Doisneau exhibit. We planned out our metro ride, found directions, and met with Carolin only to arrive to a line that twisted outside and around the block. Okay plan B. We traveled all this way so we might as well wander for a bit and grab a cafe or something. We head down what looks to be a decently busy street for a Sunday in hopes of finding a quaint Parisian coffee shop. What we stumbled across instead were sex shops and "theatres." Hmm. We finally find a decent looking restaurant to sit in only to be greeted by puppets and Christmas decorations, large women in fur coats, and strange looking candies everywhere. I half expected the Queen of hearts to emerge from behind the counter. But we decide to give it a shot. Despite our obnoxiously whimsical setting, we managed to have a decent cup of coffee and good conversation. However, that part of Paris is not one I'm looking to return to anytime soon.



Sundays in Paris are different than any other day of the week. Many of the streets are closed to traffic, and the atmosphere of the city changes completely. Paris is a city that likes to breathe, it's inhabitants really live outside. People bear the cold and sit outside of the cafes in order to better watch the world go by. Parks are bustling all day long. People walk with no particular destination in mind, just to take a little break from their Monday through Friday lives. It's very refreshing. I'm constantly reminding myself to slow down. Especially on Sundays. No one is walking quickly...what's the rush? The metros don't come as frequently and no one seems to mind. People mull for hours of a cup of coffee that could easily have easily disappeared in two sips.

So yes, sometimes as much as I don't like to admit it I wish everything made sense to me, like at home. Sometimes I wish everyone could just speak my language. Sometimes I wish could go into a Target and buy everything I ever needed in one place. Sometimes I wish people were in more of a rush to get to their destinations. But all in all, I'm enjoying the cultural differences. I'm getting used to it, learning to appreciate it, and most of the time...really liking it.

With the wind at my back, I don't ever even bat an eye

"Life is like music; it must be composed by ear, feeling, and instinct, not by rule." -Samuel Butler

Plans will get you nowhere here. Loose plans or ideas are fine, but specific things will more than likely not happen, at least not when you want them to. You plan for your plans to be interrupted. But that's half the excitement of Paris, a wrong turn can take you down a street you never would have stumbled upon otherwise. These streets can take you pretty much anywhere.

And the metro can really take you anywhere. I love the metro here. It's so efficient and it has so much character. You never know what to expect. I have quite a long metro ride to class in the mornings because they are doing construction at the stop where I would normally change lines. I don't mind too much though, it gives me a chance to de-stress in the mornings. There's something incredibly peaceful about seeing the world zoom by all around you while you just sit and take it all in. There's no point in being rushed, you can't make the metro go faster. So you might as well enjoy the ride. I'm finding my metro rides to be equivalent to the time I would spend driving in Columbus. When I drive it's my time, just me and my music. The morning metro commute serves as the same sort of escape.

Thursday was a very low-key day. We decided to take it easy after the first day of class, plus we had a phonetics test the next day. For dinner on Thursday we had some wine in honor of Alexander McQueen courtesy of Mme Dugan. I love how integral wine is in French culture. AND we had the most amazing dessert. It was very simple, but very delicious. Mme Dugan made her own warm chocolate sauce (she repeatedly tells us that sauces are the most important component of any dish) and drizzled it over sliced bananas with a little bit of whipped cream on top. The simplicity of the food here amazes me. It doesn't sound like much but the combination of flavors and temperatures was to die for. I could not have been paired with a better host Mom.

Friday we had more class and the phonetics test, followed by another interesting Crous lunch. After Gabi finished class, we met at Monoprix to buy some groceries. A seemingly simple task like going to the grocery store can be an overwhelming adventure. It's always the little cultural differences that stick out to me the most. You have to pay to use carts here. ANd it doesn't come cheap. You have to feed a euro into the cart in order for it to unlock from the rest. Craziness. So far Pringles are the only common factors I've been able to find between American snacks and French snacks. Everything else is different. It's even an adventure picking out groceries!


Today Gabi and I wandered around our neighborhood and stumbled across some awesome stores and some interesting restaurants. Basically, we love where we live. It's an area that we probably would have never made the effort to see had we not lived here. But that's what's so great about it...it's very Parisian. It's relatively untouched by tourism, which makes for lower prices, friendlier service, and more overall charm. Tonight I believe we're going out in the Bastille area which we've never been to before, so hopefully it will be fun.

I can smell dinner right now. I don't know what she's cooking but it smells incredible.

Anywhere you go, Anyone you meet

"The real voyage of discovery consists not in seeking new landscapes, but in having new eyes." -Marcel Proust

On Tuesday night we continued to make the most out of our last few nights before class started and go out in the Oberkampf area. Rumor has it that there are cheaper drinks to be found there, although I'm finding that cheaper is a very relative term. I'm starting to resign to the fact that an inexpensive night out is not be had until it gets warm enough to have cheese and wine picnics in the parks. Gabi and I left early so we could catch the metro home instead of paying for a cab. Plus we had to be up early because we decided to go to church in the morning!

We went to a 9am service at Notre Dame...there's just something about that place. I don't count myself as a particularly religious person but Notre Dame definitely gets to you--its a feeling that's very difficult to describe. The mass was short, around 45 minutes, and in French obviously, but very interesting to see. I would definitely be interested in going back to one. So after mass we wandered around the Ile St. Louis area for a bit in search of a creperie and a cafe that didn't cost us an arm and a leg.

Of course creperies are in abundance all over the city but it becomes inherently more difficult to find one when you're actually looking for it. We wandered for around for 45 minutes or so and finally decided the cold was too much. But I had my first crepe of the trip...nutella and banana, yummmmm. Then we hopped on the metro to go get our class schedule. We waited in a ridiculously long and confusing line before we found out that we didn't need to wait in line at all. Sometimes the language barrier causes all sorts of unnecessary waiting.



Dinner last night was delicious as per usual. I am in love with Mme Dugan's cooking--it's very, very French, it forces me to try new things, and it gives me ideas of meals I want to learn to cook when I come home :) We had ham wrapped endives with some sort of creme fraiche sauce with sauteed mushrooms and a flaky warm croissant type cheese thing. Either way it was awesome. And oftentimes dessert consists of bread and cheese, which I am more than okay with especially since Gabi and I have dark chocolate hidden away in our room.

Last night we had one last hurrah before classes started. We ventured to the girls' apartment for a wine, cheese, and bread get together. And can I just say...I'm in love with the bread here. We had an intense discussion at dinner about how Americans just don't make the same kind of bread and that if a French person were to open a REAL french bakery in the States, they would make a fortune. I couldn't agree more. Maybe that's what I'll do with my life ;)

Anyway so our wine/cheese/bread party was lots of fun. It's interesting when everyone gets together because we are all so very, very different. We come from all ends of the country and it's very curious to see the different sub-cultures that make up "American" culture in general. If anything I'm adjusting more to that than I am to French culture. But I have to say as different as everyone is, it's fun to find the common ground. Under normal circumstances, this group would probably never have all come together. But that's what so great about this, these aren't normal circumstances and you have the opportunity to meet people that you might never interact with otherwise.

This morning I started class. Navigating the metro by myself and actually being in class really gave me a jolt of realization--I'm really here. This thing that I've been planning for for years is actually playing itself out. It's actually happening. And I'm actually going to be here for an extended period of time. Up until today it's all sort of felt like an extended vacation.

I hope it gets warmer here. I have the sneaking suspicion that our heat is not working seeing as I'm under the covers in my bed with a sweater, hoodie, and wool socks on and I'm still chilled to the bone. I thought I left this all back in Ohio!

All we can do is keep breathing

"Remember what Bilbo used to say; it's a dangerous business Frodo, going out your door. You step onto the road and if you don't keep your feet, there's no knowing where you might be swept of to." JRR Tolkien

There's been a lot of wandering over the past few days. The thing I love about Paris is that each neighborhood has a very distinct atmosphere about it. The latin quarter is very intellectual, le Marais is very trendy, the Champs-Elysee is very glamorous, and our neighborhood (Le Canal St. Martin) is...if I had to choose a word...chill. It's not as fast-paced as some of the other districts, we've got the canal which makes everything more peaceful, but there are decent amount of boutiques and restaurant that have a lot of character. It's a blast to explore.

So over the past two days we've wandered throughout the Louvre, through a few food markets, in Le Marais, around our neighborhood, through some bookstores, and along the Seine. I love getting lost in this city. I'm so glad Gabi (my roommate) and I have that in common. And we're both food junkies. We can't wait until it gets warmer and we can have gourmet cheese and bread picnics in the parks.

But don't be fooled, there has been some trouble in Paradise as of late. First of all, not all of our meals are what one would describe as glamorous, or even Parisian. In an attempt to save some money, we've decided to take advantage of the subsidized lunches through the different Crous cafeterias throughout the city. It's sort of like a dining hall and we are very much out of place there. We're those weird foreign students that sit in the cafeteria speaking another language with no friends. And we don't exactly know how the system works yet; today the cashier made fun of us because we didn't know what to do. And we know he's making fun of us, but we don't know enough French to make a smart-ass comment back. BUT, it's a decent meal for 3 euro, which is unheard of in this city.

Also, the living situation is...interesting. I love living with Gabi, we have so many of the same ideas about what we want out of this experience and we get along great. Mme Dugan is...interesting. She's very accomodating, and she loves to talk with us. I feel bad because I think she gets lonely; her son is not a pleasant person and we get the sense that maybe her husband left her. So we have some interesting philosophical discussions every night at dinner. However, if there's one thing that I've learned so far, it's that the French are very stubborn (a trait I do recognize in myself so I have come to appreciate it in others to some extent). And the internet has been a bit dodgy since we've been here. Mme Dugan is under the impression that this is due to the fact that Gabi and I both have Macs. It's a belief that she is having a hard time letting go of. Her son, Damien, is under the impression that this problem is due to his mother. He likes to curse at her in french about it every time something goes wrong. And last night something went wrong. I won't get into details...all's well that ends well, but it was an experience.

But I suppose that's why I'm here. All about experiences. Good and bad and everything in between.

Save Tonight

"People travel to faraway places to watch, in fascination, the kind of people they ignore at home.” – Dagobert D. Runes

Everyone and everything is interesting to me here. It makes me realize how unobservant I am at home. I am curious about the simplest things. I love watching people in the metro and imagining the kind of life they have or had; I especially find the homeless people interesting here. And those are people I definitely ignore at home. In general I'm more interested in people here. Whenever we go out, we're always looking to talk to different people and make new friends. It's a fun atmosphere to be in. I'm really just trying to take it all in.

So on Friday we had a very good dinner near the Louvre because Mme Dugan was having a party so we couldn't eat at the house. Then we met up with Bea and Keesean and got to wander around the Louvre at night! It had an incredibly different ambiance at night, very magical. I'm thinking that will turn into a Friday night ritual.

After the Louvre we went to the Latin Quarter to this Irish Pub to watch our German friend Jan perform. When we met Jan last Sunday, we all sort of thought he was a joke. He's an off the wall, crazy kind of person, so we didn't really have high hopes for his music. But we decided to go anyway. And thank God we did...he was AWESOME. Great music, great new friends, and we met all sorts of people, some Americans, some French, some girls from Holland. It was a great time. Gabi and I called it an early night though since we had to be meeting for Versailles at 10am.

Versailles was good to see again, I feel like I took it more in this time. It reminded me of the first time I was there with French Club and Eveline was our tour guide. Being here has this strange way of unlocking memories for me. It's somewhat refreshing to be out of my normal routine. Moral of the story about Versailles...those people never got the advice "Less is More."

Traveling around Paris all the time has this way of absolutely exhausting you. After Versailles, all I wanted to do is sleep. There's so much walking and waiting and thinking that I'm constantly doing but not even aware of it. Even just the effort it takes to constantly interact with people in French is exhausting. But it is becoming much more second nature which I'm so excited by!

So after a nap and a delicious dinner, Gabi and I shared a bottle of wine and met up with some friends from the group at Hotel De Ville. We had heard that Le Marais was a fun place to hang out and was a lot cheaper than a lot of the places we had been frequenting. While we were aware that this was technically the gay district we didn't realize they were so strict about it! They would take one look at all of us and tell the boys we were with "Desolee, pas de filles." No girls allowed. So we had to do some walking to find a place that would take all of us. But we finally did and we ended up having a great night.

Today we went to a Brocante, which is sort of like a flea market but on a little bit smaller of a scale. It was fun to wander around the stalls and look at all the old things. I got this awesome old cookbook in French...cookbooks are my weakness :) The people that owned the stands were so eager to tell you about all their things and the history behind them. That's the thing about French people...they seem cold and standoffish initially, but once you break through that exterior, they don't shut up. It's just a matter of making that first step.

Tomorrow is another visit to the Louvre. I'm so happy that I can take that museum bit by bit. When I was there the first time I felt so overwhelmed, but now that I know I have time to take it all in, I'm very excited about it. I'm eager to start class on Thursday. I'm so incredibly eager to be able to notice my French improving. I have a burning desire to really, really know this language. And I'd say right now I'm in a pretty good place to be able to do that.

I'll see you soon

"Do not anticipate the happiness of tomorrow, discover it today" Ella Wheeler Wilcox

Yesterday was definitely an adventure-flled day. In the morning Gabi and I met up with Addison so we could explore the largest covered market in Paris. The foodie in me was on overload--the cheese, and vegetables, and fruit, and meat, and wine!! Then we took the Metro to Montmartre in hopes of finding the vintage stores there. Well, we didn't find them...apparently we took the wrong way off the metro and should have descended down from Abessess instead of up (we would have much preferred to stay at the bottom, I think we climbed a million stairs). We ate a terrible and overpriced crepe in Montmartre and explored some of the artsy/touristy shops near Sacre-Couer.

We were looking at earrings in this jewelry store that had different jewelry based on what region/city of the world it would have come from. And I was particularly drawn to this one pair, and I kept coming back to it, and finally decided to pick them up and buy them. When I picked them up I noticed the particular rack I was looking at were earrings based off of cities in Spain, and the particular earrings I wanted were from Salamanca!! It's strange how sometimes you just gravitate toward something that comforts you. And while I definitely miss home, home a lot here...I find myself missing Spain significantly more here than back in the States. I think it might be because there are so many little things that are more similar but just a little off.

It's really the little things that remind me. It's drinking out of little cups that you constantly have to refill at dinner, it's the detachable shower head (that doesn't have the ability to attach to anything), it's the coffee, it's the more relaxed pace, it's eating dinner late. And I'm having so many of the same feelings as I had in Spain...I wander around in a constant state of awe of all the things around me, just trying to take it all in. As I meet all these new people here I find myself constantly thinking of Katie, Dana, and Alex. There's an old sign hanging in our kitchen that says "My Goodness, My Guinness!" and every morning it always makes me think of O'Harra's in Salamanca. It just makes me appreciate that much more how much of a unique experience Spain was, and how much potential Paris has as well.

Yesterday afternoon we went to Musee D'Orsay, which is an impressionist museum in an old train station in the heart of Paris. We took a guided tour (probably one of the best I've ever taken) and saw works from Van Gogh, Manet, Monet, and so many others. Well I definitely don't count myself as a particularly artistic person, I do love wandering around museums. I have the upmost respect for people who can think up these things and actually create something tangible like that out of their ideas.

Last night Mme Dugan definitely made up for the previous meal of tongues and nuts. We had crepes "typiquement de Brettagne" aka crepes with ham, eggs, and goat cheese. So simple, but so delicious. And we had an endive salad on the side...I'd never tried endives before but I was very pleased, I liked them a lot.

After dinner we met up with Addison again, we sipped on some belgian beer we had bought earlier that day while sitting in a park discussing literature, cinema, this experience, Paris, everything! Kelly would have been proud :) It was such stimulating conversation and so typically french drinking wine and beer in a park. Then we moved on to a cafe/bar called Hotel du Nord (THE cafe in Marcel Parne's Hotel du Nord). And we actually met french people! And we actually spoke french!! It was a great time. Then we moved out to a few more bars and finished the night with a nighttime stroll through the rain (parce que bien-sur nous sommes a Paris!).

Today we're doing some shopping Aux Grands Magasins (La Galerie Lafayette, Printemps, etc), I'm getting a french phone! And we're going to the Louvre at night, because we get FREE admission to the Louvre for a year!! Now we can take it exposition by exposition and not feel rushed. I'm so excited. So tonight should be another fabulous night...Paris je t'aime! ...But don't worry I still miss everyone a ton :)

Let It Be

"Live each season as it passes." -Thoreau

While last night I was definitely feeling a little homesick, tonight I feel completely energized and excited about everything that's to come. Of course I knew Paris was a city full of cultural and artistic opportunities, but today our directors gave us a TON of information on all the things we can do in this amazing city. My roommate, Gabi, and I have been anxiously planning our next few weeks since we got back from the meeting.

Last night we went out in the St. Germain-des-Pres area, and wow is Paris nightlife expensive!! We're going to have to start drinking the incredibly cheap but incredibly good bottles of wine in the parks before we go out, because 7 euros for a glass of wine just can't be justified. However, getting out of the house was a great cure for the homesickness.

So dinner was interesting tonight. We were absolutely starving after the meeting that lasted pretty much all afternoon and most of the evening. And we're being tortured with delicious smells creeping in from the kitchen. I am very pleased to see a giant heap of pesto covered pasta on my plate. I start to dig in and realize after a few minutes that my throat feels a little funny. I ask Mme Dugan what type of nuts she used to make the pesto. She replied that there were no nuts in the pesto (of course I know this is incorrect). After some insisting she checks the label on the pesto and finds out there are cashews in it. Awesome. So I had my first allergic reaction in Paris, but I suppose that was bound to happen eventually, best to just get it out of the way.

Also I'm pretty sure I ate tongue tonight. Like cow's tongue. It wasn't half bad. But I didn't dare confirm my suspicions for fear that my stomach would change it's mind.

So moral of the story so far--things are a little difficult, at times uncomfortable, and a bit overwhelming, BUT there is a lot to be gained from this experience and I've got to keep at it with an open mind. I'm just going to see where the wind takes me; it looks like it should be a pretty enjoyable ride :)

"Hello world, hope you're listening"

"Trust your intuition, the universe is guiding your life" --Fortune Cookie

So today I chose this quote because it was the one that gave me some sort of piece of mind when I was trying to figure out what exactly I wanted to in my life. I'm also hoping it can give me some comfort right now. After all it was my intuition that lead me here to Paris in some sense. So right now things seem difficult--I feel scattered and a little overwhelmed. The road ahead of me suddenly seems very long. But I've got to trust myself, I'm here for a reason and soon I'll look back on this and know that I had nothing to worry about. Hopefully.

Things will be much easier once classes start and I get into a routine. Then I'm sure the time will fly. Right now I'm getting acclimated to everything. Pretty soon I won't be late because I didn't think the induction stove would take so long to heat my INSTANT coffee (this is supposed to be Paris, what gives with the instant coffee?), and we'll know that the hot water heater only refills between 10pm and 6am--so don't use too much too early in the day. And I'll know that potatoes or beans are inevitable for dinner so I might as well get used to it. And soon I'll stop complaining, promise :)

I finally got to talk with my Mom today! And Amanda and Kelly and Madison :) People can grow separately without growing apart. They'll always be part of my life.

I found out today we'll be taking our classes pretty much in the heart of Paris--Notre Dame, Le Pantheon, and Les Jardins de Luxembourg are all just steps away. It's pretty amazing but also pretty intimidating to be in such an impressive setting. We still don't start class for more than a week but I'm very eager to get started. As for tomorrow...some Parisian shopping is in my near future. Hey, I have to take advantage of "les soldes" right?

Oh yes and I love the bread here. And the cheese. And I really might gain 20 pounds and I really might be 100% okay with that. Okay...trusting my intuition. Here goes nothing!

Les Premières Jours

"Traveling is a brutality. It forces you to trust strangers and to lose sight of all that familiar comfort of home and friends. You are constantly off balance. Nothing is yours except the essential things-air, sleep, dreams, the sea, the sky-all things tending toward the eternal, or what we imagine of it." Cesare Pavese

All of Sunday passed in a sort of daze. After I got off the plane I had to pass through customs and find the rendez-vous point with the ISA director. Everything looked vaguely familiar because I'd been there before, it sort of felt like walking through a dream land. The lack of sleep didn't help with this.

The one thing I hate about traveling is the waiting. There's constant down time, you're constantly waiting for something, for someone, for anything to happen. But you can't be relaxed, especially NOT at Charles De Gaulle airport. I really don't like that place. So of course once I found the ISA director, we had to wait for 6 other people to arrive. And then it was off to my new apartment!

So Madame Dugan answers the door in a bathrobe with crazy hair and glasses and just sort of stares at me with these beady little eyes. She kept staring and finally said "Vous etes blonde." Meaning you're blonde. Well obviously I'm blonde but I really didn't understand the significance of this. She repeated herself, "Vous etes blonde." I responded with an apprehensive "oui." She explained that in the picture that they sent I looked like I had brown hair. Needless to say after this first exchange I was feeling a little unsure about everything. My roommate hadn't arrived yet so I was by myself. Next Mme Dugan stared in absolute awe at my luggage and casually asked me if I brought my whole house. This offended me slightly because I thought a medium size and large size suitcase was pretty damn good for 5 months. But whatever.

The apartment is nicer than I expected and our room is well thought out. I miss my bed though. My roommate, Gabi, seems really awesome so far, we get along very well which I am very thankful for. We unpacked and talked and explored our neighborhood a bit. I had my first sandwich from a street vendor...blue cheese, swiss cheese, and tomatoes on a baguette :)

I forgot how much of a shock it was to be constantly bombarded with a different language all the time. I forgot how hard it is to constantly try to think in that language after such a tiring journey. I forgot about that state of off-balance confusion at first. I forgot about being homesick. I'm definitely more homesick this time around than I was in Spain. It finally hit me last night that I was going to be here for 5 whole months. When I come back to the States I'll be wearing sundresses and flip-flops as opposed to peacoats and boots. But I haven't cried yet, I've had brief moments of panic but no tears so keep your fingers crossed.

First dinner in Paris: potatoes. Okay and chicken and salad and bread and a good cheese sauce too. I forgot about that too, eating something you might not like just so you don't go hungry. I just have to keep reminding myself that if I wanted everything to be predictable and comfortable I would have stayed in Columbus; this is half the fun of traveling abroad. Half the frustration, but also half the fun.

Last night was the first night out in Paris. And my oh my did it hit me then. We came out of the metro stop right by Pont Neuf and got our first glimpse of La Tour Eifel all lit up and sparkling on the Seine. Yea this is really happening. So we went to a few bars, had a few beers and took it all in. All in all it was a very good first night. Minus the part where I woke up at 2 in the morning and couldn't go back to sleep until after 5. I hate jet lag.

Today we got lost trying to find the ISA office. But that was bound to happen eventually. And it was snowing! I thought I left all that behind in Ohio. The meeting went well and we got our monthly passes for the metro. Slowly but surely everything is falling into place. It's been a dizzying process so far, but so very worth it.