I have my first midterm before my second class even starts. Yeah, cool. My Latin American lit professor is going to the States next week so she's giving us an "early midterm" a week from today. My Sorbonne classes start the Monday after that. She says it doesn't count much, and it's basically just a short essay, but still kind of annoying.
In other news, I finally found the entrance to the Val de Grace church..and then discovered you can't visit it. It took so long! It's in the middle of huge hospital grounds and I had no idea how to get in. Turns out you can't, but I did find where I could get in if I had a card, or something.
I walked home from the church, going a back way I've only gone once. I'm not that familiar with the route, but it goes down Rue de la Santé, which is the road that prison is on (see previous entry). So I was walking along, trying to ignore the ridiculous winds blowing in my face, when I start to pass by a building with a high stone wall. I figured it was the prison. Then I saw that a gate I was about to pass was wide open, and the sign said "a la Maison de la Sante", which again led me to believe it was the prison. I was surprised they'd leave the gate open, but it seemed to be a drop-off or pick-up point. Whatever. I kept walking, and a little while later a door in the wall was just completely open! You could see the courtyard inside, and this was clearly connected to the buildings attached to the wall. I actually stopped and stared for a second or two before getting a little uneasy and rushing off...and then while rushing off I noticed another sign said "Maison des Sœurs Augustines de la Santé" - it was a convent. These French need to stop naming everything in one area the same thing!
Also on that walk I followed a kid who was walking backwards, presumably so he had his back to the wind. It was possibly not the best strategy for a city street, but worked for him. He had a Harry Potter backpack, and looked like a very young Harry Potter - glasses and all. No scar, though.
Thursday, January 31, 2008
Tuesday, January 29, 2008
assassins!
Before I forget - I live about a minute from one of France's most famous prisons!
Thanks to the fabulous David I have been able to gather some info on the strange building that I thought was currently a hospital but turns out to be an active prison. It is called La Santé Prison or Prison de la Santé, which is rather deceiving as it means the prison of health. There is a plaque on one of the long, high walls saying that during the Occupation, a bunch of French Resistance soldiers were executed there after they attempted an insurrection. The last executions in French history in fact took place there - it might still even have a guillotine! So I knew it was a prison, but for some reason thought it was now a hospital.
Nope. Turns out it has been the lovely home to some of France's favorite criminals for about 130 years. Apollinaire is one of the most illustrious former guests. Since Apollinaire's time, however, conditions (and types of prisoners) have changed; it once held mostly political prisoners, like writers who protested the state, but now holds people like the banker who is about to go in for billions of euros of fraud. I wouldn't be surprised if he gets sent here. The assassin known as Carlos the Jackal was here for a while, although he's been moved. Another interesting inmate is a guy who vandalized a McDonald's.
Sadly, though, the conditions have gone downhill. Or stayed the same, depending on how you look at it. Recent accusations say it is unsanitary, unsafe, and turns the inmates crazy. It has the highest suicide rate of any French prison, and many inmates are "deranged", even though most of the criminals who come in here are there for things like money laundering, etc - not crimes one generally associates with potential crazies, just really greedy and/or stupid people. A former doctor of the prison came out with a book about the conditions; many French people were completely shocked by it, thinking French prisons had some of the best standards in the world.
Now don't go getting worried, people. This is an extremely secure place, surrounded entirely by stone walls so you can't even see in. There are some dorm-style taller buildings in which one can kind of see lights and windows at night, but other than that it's a total mystery to me. Directly across the street are commercial and residential buildings (not to mention an elementary school) so I assume the people of Paris are okay with having the prison there. I am one block away, and I walk along its outside wall every other day or so. I'll save the stories of hearing strange noises coming from it when I was walking home the other night for another day...or those who ask for it.
Here is a link to the Wikipedia page on the building: http://en.wikipedia.org/w/index.php?title=La_Sant%C3%A9_Prison&oldid=166990905
And one to a NY Times article on the doctor's book: Expose of Brutal Prison Jolts France's Self-Image
Thanks to the fabulous David I have been able to gather some info on the strange building that I thought was currently a hospital but turns out to be an active prison. It is called La Santé Prison or Prison de la Santé, which is rather deceiving as it means the prison of health. There is a plaque on one of the long, high walls saying that during the Occupation, a bunch of French Resistance soldiers were executed there after they attempted an insurrection. The last executions in French history in fact took place there - it might still even have a guillotine! So I knew it was a prison, but for some reason thought it was now a hospital.
Nope. Turns out it has been the lovely home to some of France's favorite criminals for about 130 years. Apollinaire is one of the most illustrious former guests. Since Apollinaire's time, however, conditions (and types of prisoners) have changed; it once held mostly political prisoners, like writers who protested the state, but now holds people like the banker who is about to go in for billions of euros of fraud. I wouldn't be surprised if he gets sent here. The assassin known as Carlos the Jackal was here for a while, although he's been moved. Another interesting inmate is a guy who vandalized a McDonald's.
Sadly, though, the conditions have gone downhill. Or stayed the same, depending on how you look at it. Recent accusations say it is unsanitary, unsafe, and turns the inmates crazy. It has the highest suicide rate of any French prison, and many inmates are "deranged", even though most of the criminals who come in here are there for things like money laundering, etc - not crimes one generally associates with potential crazies, just really greedy and/or stupid people. A former doctor of the prison came out with a book about the conditions; many French people were completely shocked by it, thinking French prisons had some of the best standards in the world.
Now don't go getting worried, people. This is an extremely secure place, surrounded entirely by stone walls so you can't even see in. There are some dorm-style taller buildings in which one can kind of see lights and windows at night, but other than that it's a total mystery to me. Directly across the street are commercial and residential buildings (not to mention an elementary school) so I assume the people of Paris are okay with having the prison there. I am one block away, and I walk along its outside wall every other day or so. I'll save the stories of hearing strange noises coming from it when I was walking home the other night for another day...or those who ask for it.
Here is a link to the Wikipedia page on the building: http://en.wikipedia.org/w/index.php?title=La_Sant%C3%A9_Prison&oldid=166990905
And one to a NY Times article on the doctor's book: Expose of Brutal Prison Jolts France's Self-Image
why is the harp store not on Rue de la Harpe?!
On Friday I went to the Budin harp shop off the Champs-Elysees because they specialize in antique harps and I need string advice for my antique. Also my mom has been in contact with them for a while, so I knew they'd be able to help me.
As I have mentioned before, the Champs-Elysees and surrounding areas are the center of Paris' Fashion Week, with all kinds of people wandering the streets, including many photographers. As I was walking, apparently one thought I was somehow involved in/interested in/otherwise concerned with Fashion Week and stopped me to ask if he could take my picture for a Paris fashion blog. I was a little bewildered but I agreed. Then he figured out I was American and became even more convinced I must be there to check it out. He explained it was just a little blog and not professional but of course was covering Fashion Week. They wanted to show some of the fashions of people on the street.
Now, dear readers, I am not overly fashionable, but in Paris I try a bit harder than say, in Ithaca. But it was cold outside and mostly all anyone could see was by black peacoat. I suspect my hair being pulled back into a nice bun deceived the photog. Anyway, I unbuttoned the coat and struck a (rather awkward, I felt) pose in my black sweater, grey silk wrap skirt, tights and black boots. I was wearing a nifty hand-made necklace but I doubt that's what got their attention.
They were all intermittently flashing pictures of people who were walking around, so it wasn't all that odd, I was just rather surprised. So if anyone out there frequents Paris fashion blogs and finds me on one...let me know.
As I have mentioned before, the Champs-Elysees and surrounding areas are the center of Paris' Fashion Week, with all kinds of people wandering the streets, including many photographers. As I was walking, apparently one thought I was somehow involved in/interested in/otherwise concerned with Fashion Week and stopped me to ask if he could take my picture for a Paris fashion blog. I was a little bewildered but I agreed. Then he figured out I was American and became even more convinced I must be there to check it out. He explained it was just a little blog and not professional but of course was covering Fashion Week. They wanted to show some of the fashions of people on the street.
Now, dear readers, I am not overly fashionable, but in Paris I try a bit harder than say, in Ithaca. But it was cold outside and mostly all anyone could see was by black peacoat. I suspect my hair being pulled back into a nice bun deceived the photog. Anyway, I unbuttoned the coat and struck a (rather awkward, I felt) pose in my black sweater, grey silk wrap skirt, tights and black boots. I was wearing a nifty hand-made necklace but I doubt that's what got their attention.
They were all intermittently flashing pictures of people who were walking around, so it wasn't all that odd, I was just rather surprised. So if anyone out there frequents Paris fashion blogs and finds me on one...let me know.
Monday, January 28, 2008
dining etiquette
Meals and mealtimes in general are a far bigger deal in France than in the States. Most people know this and of course I was aware when I came, but I was nervous about eating occasional meals with my host family. What if I did something terribly rude without realizing it? So far I have not done anything egregious. Anyway, here are some mealtime differences (at least how we eat in this apartment, I can't promise it's always this way):
- It is perfectly acceptable to dirty the tablecloth because it's going to be shaken out the window after the meal anyway. Most of the time the bread is cut over the tablecloth, and one keeps their piece of bread next to the plate, not on it.
- Hands above table height at all times..don't put your hands in your lap.
- All cheeses have specific ways of being cut. Don't mix them up!
- Don't bring a bottle of wine to a meal if it's at someone else's house; they are cooking, so they know what wine will go with the meal.
- Specify if you don't want wine, because otherwise it will automatically be given to you.
- For first rounds, someone serves the dishes. Only after that do you serve yourself.
They always give me a napkin (cloth of course) that goes in this little cloth bag with a drawstring. I'm not sure why it needs a holder or why I'm the only one who gets one, but it confused me a little bit the first few times. So the second time I saw this mysterious little bag, I asked Aurelien what it was for, hoping I didn't sound too stupid. I was really worried I should know this. But he stared at it for a moment and said, "I have no idea. I've never seen it before."
I've been less worried about things since then.
Today I had dinner with Alain, Catherine, and Catherine's parents, who are probably in their early 70's. They're pretty cool, and didn't speak English the whole time - I'm not sure if they can. I was really excited, though, because Catherine's father speaks sort of slowly and enunciates very well, so I could understand nearly everything he said! I was quite proud of myself.
They discussed the upcoming birth of their first great-grandchild, who will be Catherine's great-nephew. There was the usual talk of oh, they feel old now, etc. But they had also just learned that the baby would be named Nathaniel and talked about the pros and cons of that name. I mentioned that Nathaniel is my nephew's middle name and they were quite pleasantly surprised, as if look! All those silly Americans aren't heathens after all! I told the great-grandma to be his whole name and she was more impressed, and decided she might try to talk her grandson into considering my nephew's first name (in French, of course). I think I was approved.
- It is perfectly acceptable to dirty the tablecloth because it's going to be shaken out the window after the meal anyway. Most of the time the bread is cut over the tablecloth, and one keeps their piece of bread next to the plate, not on it.
- Hands above table height at all times..don't put your hands in your lap.
- All cheeses have specific ways of being cut. Don't mix them up!
- Don't bring a bottle of wine to a meal if it's at someone else's house; they are cooking, so they know what wine will go with the meal.
- Specify if you don't want wine, because otherwise it will automatically be given to you.
- For first rounds, someone serves the dishes. Only after that do you serve yourself.
They always give me a napkin (cloth of course) that goes in this little cloth bag with a drawstring. I'm not sure why it needs a holder or why I'm the only one who gets one, but it confused me a little bit the first few times. So the second time I saw this mysterious little bag, I asked Aurelien what it was for, hoping I didn't sound too stupid. I was really worried I should know this. But he stared at it for a moment and said, "I have no idea. I've never seen it before."
I've been less worried about things since then.
Today I had dinner with Alain, Catherine, and Catherine's parents, who are probably in their early 70's. They're pretty cool, and didn't speak English the whole time - I'm not sure if they can. I was really excited, though, because Catherine's father speaks sort of slowly and enunciates very well, so I could understand nearly everything he said! I was quite proud of myself.
They discussed the upcoming birth of their first great-grandchild, who will be Catherine's great-nephew. There was the usual talk of oh, they feel old now, etc. But they had also just learned that the baby would be named Nathaniel and talked about the pros and cons of that name. I mentioned that Nathaniel is my nephew's middle name and they were quite pleasantly surprised, as if look! All those silly Americans aren't heathens after all! I told the great-grandma to be his whole name and she was more impressed, and decided she might try to talk her grandson into considering my nephew's first name (in French, of course). I think I was approved.
Saturday, January 26, 2008
the National Guard will be harder to catch
Everyone in the program is at different levels in their French study: only 2 people are somewhat close to fluent, and several have not had any French at all. We are all taking French classes at the Sorbonne, but obviously will be in different levels. So, yesterday we took a placement test there, which turned out to be harder than I expected. It wasn't that difficult, but I assumed it would start with easy stuff and get harder...but no, it started out with those little annoying grammar rules everyone hates. Quel, or lequel? Where should the indirect object go in this sentence? Meh.
There was also a section of really open-ended complete-the-sentence type things like, "These films are distinguishable by their..." or "Give him/her something that...." Kind of annoying, but it was short and I did well on the speaking part. With any luck, I won't get the 8am session.
After the test a bunch of us went to the Louvre, my first visit since I've been here this time. The group I was with wandered around the objects d'art area, where they keep personal (well, if you're royalty or something) smaller collection pieces. There are a lot of things like jewelry boxes, crucifixes, medallions, tapestries, furniture, decorations. I really like that part of the museum.
Anyway, I'm about to go search for some English bookstores to get some stuff for my independent study. I'll probably be in the Latin Quarter all day, which is fine by me! I found an awesome crepe place there the other day - it sells Moroccan and Libiyan inspired crepes that are yummy and pretty cheap. Tomorrow I actually have to do homework!
There was also a section of really open-ended complete-the-sentence type things like, "These films are distinguishable by their..." or "Give him/her something that...." Kind of annoying, but it was short and I did well on the speaking part. With any luck, I won't get the 8am session.
After the test a bunch of us went to the Louvre, my first visit since I've been here this time. The group I was with wandered around the objects d'art area, where they keep personal (well, if you're royalty or something) smaller collection pieces. There are a lot of things like jewelry boxes, crucifixes, medallions, tapestries, furniture, decorations. I really like that part of the museum.
Anyway, I'm about to go search for some English bookstores to get some stuff for my independent study. I'll probably be in the Latin Quarter all day, which is fine by me! I found an awesome crepe place there the other day - it sells Moroccan and Libiyan inspired crepes that are yummy and pretty cheap. Tomorrow I actually have to do homework!
Thursday, January 24, 2008
first class
My first class was today, and it was really good. The professor seems very knowledgeable, to the point, and willing to discuss. We’re doing all kinds of cool readings and she has a ton of background and insight.
Also – she was bff with Borges!! And is still bff with his widow!! That is just about the most awesome thing ever. (But I was thinking – she’s probably in her late 50’s, and if Borges were alive he’d be 108. His widow was younger, but she must be at least 80’s. She said she was a grad student with him, or something.) I just wish I still had a good grasp on Spanish so I could supplement this class with the original works. Alas, French seems to have pushed it all out of my head…
comments
I just enabled anonymous commenting, I think, so if you want to comment sans identity or if you don't have an account or whatever, now I think you can do so :)
PS - I like comments.
PS - I like comments.
the continuing adventures of angie the jew
I am often mistaken for being Jewish. I'm not sure why, but I think it's generally because I know things about Judaism; not that I'm an expert or anything, but between being interested in the history of religions in general and growing up on Long Island...well, you get to know things, especially very basic things. So a lot of people at school tend to think because I'm aware of that kind of thing I must be Jewish. It's strange, but in an entertaining sort of way.
So continuing this weird trend: I had a conversation with a girl (who is Jewish) in the program the other day, prompted by my mentioning I wanted to try out the kosher pizza place in the Marais because it looked really good. It went something like this:
Her: So, do you keep kosher?
Me: Uh, well, I'm not actually Jewish. So, no.
Her: Oh, wow, really? Because you look really Jewish, and I don't normally say that to people!
Okay, mes amis, you can decide for yourself whether I look Jewish or not. But! The best part? While we were talking I was eating a ham pizza.
Yesterday I went to the Museum of Jewish Art and History - they had a really interesting exhibit on Superman and other comics. I went into the museum part, too, because I figured, why not? I was already there and it seemed interesting.
So while I was walking around there was an older American guy there who noticed that I was reading both the French and English signs. He asked me if I knew English, and I replied, yes, I am American. He seemed pleased that I was showing such interest in the exhibits and occasionally commented to me about the prettiness of something or asked me to translate. He was nice. When I left for the comic exhibit he said I "seemed like a nice Jewish girl." I just smiled at him and said goodbye.
So continuing this weird trend: I had a conversation with a girl (who is Jewish) in the program the other day, prompted by my mentioning I wanted to try out the kosher pizza place in the Marais because it looked really good. It went something like this:
Her: So, do you keep kosher?
Me: Uh, well, I'm not actually Jewish. So, no.
Her: Oh, wow, really? Because you look really Jewish, and I don't normally say that to people!
Okay, mes amis, you can decide for yourself whether I look Jewish or not. But! The best part? While we were talking I was eating a ham pizza.
Yesterday I went to the Museum of Jewish Art and History - they had a really interesting exhibit on Superman and other comics. I went into the museum part, too, because I figured, why not? I was already there and it seemed interesting.
So while I was walking around there was an older American guy there who noticed that I was reading both the French and English signs. He asked me if I knew English, and I replied, yes, I am American. He seemed pleased that I was showing such interest in the exhibits and occasionally commented to me about the prettiness of something or asked me to translate. He was nice. When I left for the comic exhibit he said I "seemed like a nice Jewish girl." I just smiled at him and said goodbye.
tuesday, i think
I'm a little behind again, sorry.
So for some mysterious, bureaucratic reason I wound up getting my 2nd choice for electives at AUP. That wouldn't have been a terrible thing if that class weren't at 5:00 on Fridays. (Did I already say this? I feel like I did.) Monday and Tuesday I tried to do an add/drop thing to get into my first choice, which is more interesting and at a better time. The times I got for Monday turned out to be wrong, but I found a really good boulangerie near the school, so, yay! I also randomly ran into another girl from the program who was trying to add/drop but got the wrong times. We sat on the steps outside some St. Pierre's church and discussed our weekends. She apparently is also discontent with most of the people in the program, so likes to wander around by herself, as I do.
There were two concerts I wanted to attend on Tuesday, but one happened while I was again waiting for add/drop (this time with success!) and the other was sold out. I saw that it was at the Théâtre Champs-Elysées but for some reason it didn't click in my mind that this was kind of a big deal concert. So I went there in the afternoon to get tickets, but there weren't any.
The Champs-Elysées area is, as most probably know, a rather upscale part of Paris. The theater itself is on Rue Montaigne, which is a little away from the more touristy Avenue Champs-Elysées, and there are signs proclaiming that street Paris' Madison Avenue. Which it totally is. There were major designer stores everywhere and very fashionable people carrying tiny little dogs. Also, it is Fashion Week in Paris! Meaning all kinds of fashion/non-fashion/celebrity types are here, and most are hanging around this part of town.
The theater is surrounded by upscale hotels, and many of these people must be staying in them for the week; I saw more limos and bored chauffeurs than I've ever seen in my life. There were also quite a lot of paparazzo hanging around, and while I was walking back to the Metro they were all excited about someone exiting a hotel. I couldn't see who it was.
Later I was in the Marais checking out some cafes when I came out of one near the St. Paul Metro stop to find a film crew and lots of Parisians milling around. They looked rather excited, for Parisians, so I assume it must've been some French movie star filming or something.
So for some mysterious, bureaucratic reason I wound up getting my 2nd choice for electives at AUP. That wouldn't have been a terrible thing if that class weren't at 5:00 on Fridays. (Did I already say this? I feel like I did.) Monday and Tuesday I tried to do an add/drop thing to get into my first choice, which is more interesting and at a better time. The times I got for Monday turned out to be wrong, but I found a really good boulangerie near the school, so, yay! I also randomly ran into another girl from the program who was trying to add/drop but got the wrong times. We sat on the steps outside some St. Pierre's church and discussed our weekends. She apparently is also discontent with most of the people in the program, so likes to wander around by herself, as I do.
There were two concerts I wanted to attend on Tuesday, but one happened while I was again waiting for add/drop (this time with success!) and the other was sold out. I saw that it was at the Théâtre Champs-Elysées but for some reason it didn't click in my mind that this was kind of a big deal concert. So I went there in the afternoon to get tickets, but there weren't any.
The Champs-Elysées area is, as most probably know, a rather upscale part of Paris. The theater itself is on Rue Montaigne, which is a little away from the more touristy Avenue Champs-Elysées, and there are signs proclaiming that street Paris' Madison Avenue. Which it totally is. There were major designer stores everywhere and very fashionable people carrying tiny little dogs. Also, it is Fashion Week in Paris! Meaning all kinds of fashion/non-fashion/celebrity types are here, and most are hanging around this part of town.
The theater is surrounded by upscale hotels, and many of these people must be staying in them for the week; I saw more limos and bored chauffeurs than I've ever seen in my life. There were also quite a lot of paparazzo hanging around, and while I was walking back to the Metro they were all excited about someone exiting a hotel. I couldn't see who it was.
Later I was in the Marais checking out some cafes when I came out of one near the St. Paul Metro stop to find a film crew and lots of Parisians milling around. They looked rather excited, for Parisians, so I assume it must've been some French movie star filming or something.
Monday, January 21, 2008
the eiffel tower has 1665 steps
Never say the French didn’t stand up to Hitler: when he was in
yay for open air markets and goat cheese!
I went to a street market this morning with Catherine and Holly-the-director, and it was a lot of fun. They have it every Tuesday, Saturday and Sunday, and I guess Catherine gets all her food for the week there, except bread and milk and such. There were all kinds of merchants there: a ton of different food vendors (bread, cheese, fruit, vegetables, pastries, meat, fish…everything), some clothes, jewelry, newspapers, and lots of other stuff. I didn’t get anything, but followed Holly around as she explained everything to be. A lot of food vendors also sell homemade meals, some of which we got to sample. They were really good. I plan to get most of my food there in the future.
There are also lots of groups that hang around the market, especially political groups. I signed a petition for one of them, who turned out to be Holly’s friend. The French people had voted against a recent E.U. thing but Sarkozy is now trying to ignore that vote and make
Speaking of revolutions…most people know of my deep affection for uprisings, and also that the French tend to do that a lot. This is part of the reason I love the French. Anyway, just as an example of how present the revolutionary mindset is here: last night I had dinner with the family and for dessert we had a gateaux de rois, which is a yummy little almond cake that has a figurine cooked into it. Whoever gets the figurine in their piece gets to be the “king”. So last night Aurélien got the figurine and immediately after he was crowned with the paper crown Alain goes, “Faisons une revolution!” [Let’s have a revolution!] Then when I was declared queen there was another uprising. Not fair, as we were just rulers.
Anyway, Aurélien is apparently sick. I didn’t notice last night but his mother says he is not eating or sleeping well and is too tired. I suspect this might be because he just had a week of exams, but perhaps he is sick. So Catherine’s approach to making him get better? Feed him horse meat! She bought a big chunk of it while we were at the market. I was really confused at first when I saw that stall, as all the meat looked as if it were taken from the animal about a minute ago – it was all very, very red but didn’t seem bloody. Then Holly told me many more old-fashioned French believe horse meat is the best source of nutrients, especially iron, and many make sick people eat it. I’m supposed to try it someday, but that might be the only thing I’m squeamish about…I don’t really want to eat horse.
And finally, my dilemma: I’m trying to decide what concert to go to next Saturday and Sunday nights and am flummoxed. For Saturday, there is a “Musique Anglaise” [English music] night at the Basilique Ste. Clothilde featuring Renaissance English vocal chamber music; a soprano, cello, and piano set of Mozart, Schubert, Poulenc, Bach, Satie, etc at the Temple du Luxembourg; and a heroines of opera night at the Vissi d’Arte. The one at the
For Sunday, Ste. Clothilde is having the same concert, but there is also a soprano trio performing Schumann, Debussy, Ravel, Britten, Sondheim, Stravinsky and others at the American church. It’s free. Comment faire?? Thoughts, anyone?
Sunday, January 20, 2008
last one today, I swear
All right, I've done a mind-boggling 6 entries tonight. I had them mostly written out before, don't worry. But I realized I made a glaring error a while back.
When I told you my living arrangements had changed I said I now live in the 7eme. I don't know why I said that. I in no way, shape, or form, live in the 7eme; I'm still in the 13eme. I'm right on the border of the 13eme and 5eme, for those of you Google earthing at home. Find the large structure that looks like a prison, but is actually some sort of hospital thing. I am about a 2 minute walk from that.
When I told you my living arrangements had changed I said I now live in the 7eme. I don't know why I said that. I in no way, shape, or form, live in the 7eme; I'm still in the 13eme. I'm right on the border of the 13eme and 5eme, for those of you Google earthing at home. Find the large structure that looks like a prison, but is actually some sort of hospital thing. I am about a 2 minute walk from that.
9 saints, but only about 1% of Paris' saint population
What have I been doing day-to-day recently? Not much very exciting to all of you out there: mostly shopping and visiting cathedrals. The French government imposes a period of sales on French clothing stores in the beginning of the year (imagine the
There are two lovely cathedrals I’ve visited in the same area, one of which I saw today, St. Gervais de-somethingorother. It was huge, very open and airy, with a very strange mixture of styles; it seems like much of it was destroyed in WWI, so there are some sections that are very modern while much of it is neo-Gothic. It is definitely a practicing place of worship, and must have some sort of convent attached. I saw at least four nuns getting ready for the next service. And to those who don’t know – I LOVE nuns!
I also went to St. Etienne-du-Mont today, which is right next to the Panthéon. It is also really large, but more well-known. It has a very famous altar screen, which is an intricate passage of screened stairs leading up a couple of stories to a raised altar. The stairs wind from the middle of the sanctuary upwards. It also houses the remains of Ste. Geneviève, patroness of
St. Severin in the
One of these, I don't quite remember which, has a cabinet full of saint bones. I didn't know what they were - they looked like old rolled up parchment - but I stopped looking when I realized one was Ste. Ursula's femur.
I haven’t been doing the nightlife thing too much as I want to get a good feel for the city before I wander around it at night. Classes at the AUP start Monday, but mine might not until Tuesday. I found out my scheduled class is on Fridays until about 6:30 (bleh!) so I want to switch out. We’ll see how that goes. (By the way, when I get a camera I’ll post pics of the cathedrals, etc.)
host family
The couple I live with are very nice, helpful, and laissez-faire. They are Catherine and Alain, both physics professors, though I’m not sure if he actually teaches or just does research. Their apartment is small but comfortable, and I adore their cat.
You will get a good picture of Catherine if you imagine a laid-back, female, French physicist. She is unprepossessing but not meek, thin with dull brown hair, always taking off and putting on her thick-framed black glasses, and usually has a distracted air. I see her in the mornings before I leave and usually in the evenings; she always has a smile and is willing to help me with whatever I need. I think she likes to cook and tends to do so in her own sort of thrown-together, earthy fashion, but I haven’t had much of her food yet. She is also the president of the building’s committee, though one would hardly think it of her. I was surprised to learn she (and another resident who happens to be our program director) actually campaigned for the position. From the snippets of French I’ve heard about this situation there has been some drama going on with the committee and everyone is glad Catherine has taken over.
Alain is what I can only describe as a jolly nerd. He is really funny, and I’m sure would be more so if I understood more French, and he has a distinctly nerdy sense of humor. For example, he was making jokes about Victor Hugo’s private life at dinner tonight in its historical context. He likes opera, which I appreciate, and plays it when relaxing at night sometimes. He is average size, with grey physics professor hair and pointy glasses. While Catherine is okay at English, if I am really having trouble understanding or expressing something I go to Alain because he is very good, even if he doesn’t use it much.
Catherine has a son, Aurélien, whose room I now occupy. He has his own apartment, and since he moved out Catherine has been taking on study abroad students. I met him tonight, and have officially decided I have a giant crush on him. He is about my age, though Catherine says he’s a little older, quite good-looking with the same gorgeous blue eyes as his cat (weird). It is Aurélien to whom all thanks (or well-aimed kicks at the shin, as the case might be) should go for today’s entries, because he fixed my wireless. We spent a while fiddling with the settings on my computer before he said, “I theenk I just have to poosh ze booton on ze…what do you call eet…modem.” And then it was fixed.
He also lives in the 13eme, but closer to the
So, Aurélien is pretty cool and it would be nice if he continued to come around. I want to get into some French music and I think he’d be helpful with that.
Albé (or Albais, Albet, I don’t know) is Aurélien’s cat. She was a birthday present and is particularly attached to him; she was very sad when he moved out. So now she hangs out in his old room and adopts whoever is staying there. I like her a lot as she is an amusing mixture of friendly – she’ll follow you around asking to be pet if no one has been home for several hours, and will install herself on my bed with the intention of getting attention – and stand-offish – she will get mad after a while of mewling at you and hide. I think she’s a ragdoll, or a mix with some ragdoll in it. She’s really gorgeous, with crème and brown long, soft fur and blue, blue eyes.
So that’s my host family. I like them quite a bit; they’re kind and helpful and would be amusing if I could only understand what they’re saying.
thoughts regarding wine and cigarettes
I have perhaps caused a bit of confusion with a previous post: I mentioned that I had bought some wine and was, in fact, drinking it. I enjoy white wine, and it's useful for when you want to make your simple meal of bread, fruit, and cheese seem more Parisian. There is a lot of wine around Europe in general, and there is actually no legal drinking age in France. One might assume this makes for lots of drunken youths staggering around the streets but that is absolutely not the case; French kids are far less likely to overindulge because it's usually a part of a normal meal, or a sole drink while at a cafe or something. Anyway, I love that I can get a decent bottle of wine to bring to a get-together for about $3 - I guess it's a cultural difference, but it's not a huge one and I like it.
Smoking, on the other hand, is one of the more tiresome aspects of French culture. SO many people smoke here, and although it doesn't bother me that they do it, per se, it's just sort of annoying to always get smoke blown in my face while I'm walking down the street. Starting the beginning of this year, a new law was passed prohibiting smoking in public buildings. While I haven't heard much complaining (aside from a couple of AUP kids who dislike having to take their between-classes cigarette outside) it does force smokers into the streets a whole lot more. Now everywhere I go there are people standing outside their offices or whatever taking smoke breaks. I'm indifferent towards this, but I thought some might like to know how that law has been working out.
Smoking, on the other hand, is one of the more tiresome aspects of French culture. SO many people smoke here, and although it doesn't bother me that they do it, per se, it's just sort of annoying to always get smoke blown in my face while I'm walking down the street. Starting the beginning of this year, a new law was passed prohibiting smoking in public buildings. While I haven't heard much complaining (aside from a couple of AUP kids who dislike having to take their between-classes cigarette outside) it does force smokers into the streets a whole lot more. Now everywhere I go there are people standing outside their offices or whatever taking smoke breaks. I'm indifferent towards this, but I thought some might like to know how that law has been working out.
Well, Courfeyrac, do we have all the guns?
Two things that are related: Parisians are truly the best people to watch, and I’m really coming to understand the European fascination with drinking coffee in cafés. I dislike coffee; I generally think it’s disgusting and when I drink it’s because I’m trying to keep myself awake. That is…for American coffee. I’ve discovered that I can tolerate – perhaps even more than tolerate – French cafés au lait (that’s just coffee with milk mixed up really, really fast, to the Yanks). Although I can’t manage the hours of coffee drinking and people-watching, I really do like to sit in the window of a café with a coffee or hot chocolate and just watch people go by.
I’ve been studying boots. Nearly all Parisiennes' boots have buckles, and they are always ankle height or just below the knee. I like the buckles, even though I’m not normally a buckle person. I wound up getting some without buckles.
I’ve also mastered the art of European scarf-wearing. It’s not as hard as it looks; mostly you just need to make sure you’re not choking yourself by wearing it too tight, and if it’s a thick, woolly material, you must tuck it into your jacket, not leave it hanging out.
With the boots and the scarves, I have been able to cleverly disguise myself as a Parisian. To wit: I was surprised the other day when I was walking home from the Metro and a young woman came up to me to ask for directions. She was clearly French herself, so must’ve thought I was one too, and a competent one at that. I had no idea what she was saying, but was pleased nonetheless.
Saturday, January 19, 2008
Thursday
The next few entries are not chronological; my wireless was only just set up, so I haven't been able to post much of what I've been doing. So this will sort of be catching up with what I've done and thoughts on what I'm doing, at the same time. This whole entry refers to this past Thursday.
The program didn’t have anything set up for us to do that day, so we all had passes for a hop-on hop-off bus tour of the city. The tickets were good for each of the different lines, which went to different areas. I decided to have a relaxed morning and do the bus thing in the afternoon, mostly to get a feel for how things are laid out and how far apart they are and such.
I took the Metro to the
The next stop was the Hôpital des Invalides, which Louis XIV started out as a hospital for old and/or wounded soldiers. It was meant as an alternative to being taken in by a church, but it was attached to a church anyway. Eventually it encompassed more parts of military logistics: it was still a hospital, but also a barracks, offices, and strategic planning place. Now there are still a few barracks and a bunch of military offices. Oh, and Napoleon's tomb is there.
Anyway, the building itself is very grand. It’s large and sprawling with a huge gold dome on the top, visible from very far away. Inside there is a military museum which I did not go into, but I did peer into the windows. It looked a little dull, but then again it’s mostly about military planning..not something I’m very interested in. The grounds were also kind of depressing as they were mostly dirt. I guess they’re redoing the landscape?
I was hungry so began to look around for a handy boulangerie, but I couldn’t find any where I could sit. Also, quel dommage, it began to rain! Well, it began to mist in a distinctly Parisian fashion. You know how (stereotypically) the French have their ennui (boredom, nonchalance, blasé attitude) and therefore do everything in a slow, half-hearted manner? (FIRE ZE MISSILES! But I am le tired. Well, okay, have a nap, then FIRE ZE MISSILES!) This precipitation came down as if a French person were sending it then decided to go out for a smoke-and-cheese break.
The Invalides is set in a fairly posh area, where restaurants and cafés are expensive; it’s a short walk to the Champs-Elysées. I got quite a few contemptuous looks as I ran around trying to find food and not get my little ballet shoes too wet. Anyway, I couldn’t find a reasonable place to sit so I grabbed a (unfortunately not tasty) sandwich and sat on a bench in the rain to eat it. I faced the Invalides and watched people squealing about the inclement weather.
Next stop, Notre-Dame, again. For those keeping track, I’ve been here five days and have been inside Notre-Dame three times already. I really like it, okay? As I was doing my usual rounds of the cathedral I met a pleasant middle-aged man who enthusiastically discussed the building’s architecture and history with me. Now, many of you know me pretty well…so you know how excited I get when someone will geek out with me. Long(ish) story short, I got a lovely history lesson of the Île-de-la-Cité area and the city of
I’m still not sure if he was actually making a poor attempt of hitting on me or was genuinely ecstatic to find what he called a “good American.” He went on about how if more Americans were like me and were open to other cultures and experiences the world would be a much better place and isn’t it wonderful of me to want to learn about a little country like his just because it’s there? He was practically jumping up and down when I proved that I know something of world politics. Anyway, no harm done, and this dude is glad to have a “jolie amie américaine.”
Oh, and I visited the archaeological crypt underneath the cathedral which was smelly but very interesting; I’m glad the cathedral itself recognizes that it was meant to be a quick-fix replacement for the pagan temple to Jupiter (and Mercury, and oddly enough the Celtic goddess Rosmerta). I still need to figure out how to get to the Catacombs.
All right, so then I did the St. Germain-des-Près bus loop again trying to find a place to switch over to the
The bus dropped me off between the Opéra and the Madeleine (a posh 19th century church that is modeled after Classical architecture and is therefore deceptively pagan), which is another very expensive area. All of the most fashionable people in
Most of the sit-down cafés were distressingly overpriced and I wound up in a little café-bar with a waitress who looked like she was stolen from the Midwest and given a crash course in
Thursday, January 17, 2008
back to life
I love Paris. I know mostly everyone knows that, but I wanted to make sure it's clear: I love Paris. More than NYC (though I love it) and more than anywhere else I've ever been. It truly is home to me, though I really haven't spent much time here.
My apartment overlooks the courtyard of an elementary school, and every morning around 8 kids come in and yell until 8:30. I don't even mind it, because I go to my balcony and watch them a little as they run around in their mini pea-coats and shriek in French. The buildings on either side are very pretty, very Parisian. From my balcony I can also see the top of the Tour Montparnasse - just a little bit of a modern city in the middle of the old-world feel of this neighborhood.
Did I mention I don't live where I thought I was going to live? My original address was at the very end of the 13eme arr, on the outskirts of the city. I actually live in the 7eme arr, much closer to the center of the city, and in much better walking distance to La Sorbonne. I can walk there and to many other sites; I could even take a stroll to the Ile-de-la-Cite (where Notre Dame, Ste. Chappelle, the Conciergerie and lots of other things are) on a nice day.
Today, for the first time, I did a bit of grocery shopping. Traditionally, the French do their shopping every morning to get fresh bread, fruit, and cheese for the day. I guess some do this, but many don't do it daily anymore, and many do it on their way home from work. Well, I didn't have class or anything today, but I got it on my way home from the day's explorations. I stopped by an epicerie (general market) to get a bottle of wine and some fruit, then I visited a local boulanger (baker) to get some bread. I feel very Parisian today.
A bunch of people have been asking what I eat, but so far it has not been exciting. My host family made a very simple but nice dinner a couple of nights ago. Today I had a delicious salade Nicoise for lunch, and yesterday a great tartine saucisse (cheese, tomatoes, and dried sausage pieces on flat bread, toasted). But even in Paris one finds bad food: my sandwich suednais was gross yesterday.
Kitty wants me to pet her. She's gorgeous and sleeps with me at night, but I'm still not sure of her name. Maybe if you're lucky I'll tell you tomorrow about the crazy I met at Notre Dame yesterday!
My apartment overlooks the courtyard of an elementary school, and every morning around 8 kids come in and yell until 8:30. I don't even mind it, because I go to my balcony and watch them a little as they run around in their mini pea-coats and shriek in French. The buildings on either side are very pretty, very Parisian. From my balcony I can also see the top of the Tour Montparnasse - just a little bit of a modern city in the middle of the old-world feel of this neighborhood.
Did I mention I don't live where I thought I was going to live? My original address was at the very end of the 13eme arr, on the outskirts of the city. I actually live in the 7eme arr, much closer to the center of the city, and in much better walking distance to La Sorbonne. I can walk there and to many other sites; I could even take a stroll to the Ile-de-la-Cite (where Notre Dame, Ste. Chappelle, the Conciergerie and lots of other things are) on a nice day.
Today, for the first time, I did a bit of grocery shopping. Traditionally, the French do their shopping every morning to get fresh bread, fruit, and cheese for the day. I guess some do this, but many don't do it daily anymore, and many do it on their way home from work. Well, I didn't have class or anything today, but I got it on my way home from the day's explorations. I stopped by an epicerie (general market) to get a bottle of wine and some fruit, then I visited a local boulanger (baker) to get some bread. I feel very Parisian today.
A bunch of people have been asking what I eat, but so far it has not been exciting. My host family made a very simple but nice dinner a couple of nights ago. Today I had a delicious salade Nicoise for lunch, and yesterday a great tartine saucisse (cheese, tomatoes, and dried sausage pieces on flat bread, toasted). But even in Paris one finds bad food: my sandwich suednais was gross yesterday.
Kitty wants me to pet her. She's gorgeous and sleeps with me at night, but I'm still not sure of her name. Maybe if you're lucky I'll tell you tomorrow about the crazy I met at Notre Dame yesterday!
people
After about 20 minutes of looking, I saw a girl who looked not French, not necessarily American, but thoroughly hipster. I figured that must be her, and I was correct. So I got to carry the bags I had through the Métro and a bunch of streets to get to a sort of introductory brunch with the other students.
Maybe I’ve been in
The one stand-out (not necessarily in a good way, either) was a really tall guy who is dating the hipster girl, and is obviously an accomplished hipster himself: greasy shoulder-length hair, ridiculously skinny, girl belts and hoodies all the time. He goes to (surprise!) NYU.
If I was slightly surprised by the general appearance of the crowd, I was stunned by its ability to form solid cliques in the 18 hours or so it had been together. I looked around and could see distinct groups; you can imagine what they were, as they seem to be pretty much the same as any high school. I am compelled to comment on one girl specifically, though, simply because her commitment astonishes me: every I’ve seen her she’s worn false eyelashes so ridiculously long and thick that they seem to obscure her vision and make her look like some sort of Snow White woodland creature in poor disguise. I imagine her eyelids get tired after a day of wearing them. She’s quite nice, though.
We went around the room and discussed everyone’s reason for coming to
The students in the program come from all over the
I realize this makes it sound like all the people in the program are dumb and irritating; most of them really are not. They are generally very nice, open-minded, and friendly. Many have quirks that are already visible and I can see how they will eventually get irritating when I’m around them so much. (I’m pretty sure the group feels the same way about me, as they all find it very weird that I can spout off historical facts about any given place we visit, or the area it’s in.) And of course a few are just plain annoying: two girls from Southern California have been friends since grade school and pretty much refuse to be parted, while another girl talks through every presentation we have.
Tuesday, January 15, 2008
Better things
Favorite signs I've seen so far:
Rue des Mauvais Garcons [Bad Boys Road]
Sauvez Britney! (in the Metro) [Save Britney!]
Rue des Mauvais Garcons [Bad Boys Road]
Sauvez Britney! (in the Metro) [Save Britney!]
Sorry about this
Before reading, be warned that this and the following entries will consist of very detailed complaining.
A little while after writing the first entry, I decided Starbucks was no longer amusing to me and that I might as well go back through security and into the terminal so I could get more comfortable seats, some window shopping, and maybe some real food. It was about 10:30, so I figured things would be open. Apparently the only way back into terminal 4 from where I had been was through a series of sketchy hallways and sketchier escalators. This drops you off right in the middle of the check-in area. The problem was, there were no people there. If you have ever been to Heathrow, or any large airport, you might be able to imagine how surreal it was to see this giant room, normally loud and full of people, empty and quiet. There was one other guy there, and he looked as confused as me.
I went back and forth through the hallways/escalator course about 4 times, and convinced myself each time that I'd come out somewhere else. Finally I decided to do the kiosque check-in, because I had nothing else to do. I was so early (checked in around 11:15pm for a 6:20am flight) that almost all the information on the ticket was left blank. I then tried to go into the “departures” section to get into the terminal, but it was closed. Do airports close? I didn’t think so, and anyway there were still flights coming in. I was tres confused.
The guy told me to wait until 5am when they begin to let people through, but that sounded very dull. To cheer me up (the only reason for his chipperness in saying this), he told me I could wait in the first class lounge, and that there was a coffee shop at the other side of the terminal that was open all night. I would have a good 5 ½ hours to wait. It turned out a few other people were also staying in that lounge overnight, and when I got desperate I amused myself by comparing snores. Did I mention no wireless worked there despite there being a “hotspot” about twenty feet from where I was?
Okay, so now it was about 5 and I found myself waiting to go through security while dozens of other people were lining up to check in. I laughed at them, but a few looked well-rested and quelled my gloating. Through security; now to the gate! It was less than an hour and a half to my flight, so I thought they might have some sort of information about it. They didn’t, but they did have a display case of Bombay Sapphire that was at least double my height. It was pretty and sparkly.
The plane eventually takes off and I calculate that my wait for the flight was almost 15x longer than the flight itself.
Je suis arrivée à Paris! To my dismay, it looked like
It proved impossible to find no. 26, because it didn’t exist. I wondered if I was supposed to live in some sort of alternate French universe for the semester, and was not entirely opposed to the idea. However, the stress of my luggage getting lost and fatigue from being up for almost 2 days at that point caught up with me, and I got more and more upset on every crossing of that tiny street. I tried to call my parents to tell them I got to Paris and to ask for the director’s number, only to be entirely unable to figure out how to make the little + sign appear on the phone display. Without this + sign, you see, I could not make an international call. I pushed the button 4 times in a row out of frustration and that very symbol popped up. First mission accomplished.
I then tried no less than 6 times to call the director or assistant director only to be met with messages in French saying the numbers I was calling didn’t exist. Thanks, overly-cheery, pre-recorded French person. When I got her, Holly-the-director was astonished to find out where I was; I had been given the wrong address. Not only was the number wrong, but the street was, too, and so was the name I was told. I was not even in the correct district. So Holly dispatched one of the student helpers to go catch me, and gave me the girl’s number. It didn’t work at all.
More later.
Monday, January 14, 2008
adventures in anglo-french relations, the synopsis
I survived my long, long layover in Heathrow and went onto Paris with no difficulty. I called and got my ride when I got to baggage claim, as I was told. I waited a while for my bags, but lo, none came! Then I decided to leave. Unfortunately for me, the address I was given was entirely wrong; I was in the middle of Paris with no luggage and no idea where I was supposed to go. Also it seems I have a mental block when it comes to using foreign phones, so it took forever to get in touch with the director of the program.
Then I got to spend the day with the others in the program, most of whom had slept many hours the previous night (more about them later). My luggage didn't wind up coming until this afternoon after I had already left for Parisian wanderings.
Now, my wireless decided it's not going to work, so I can't spend too long on here. There is much more to come on this story: I hope you're all waiting breathlessly for the details, because they are long and torturous. But! There is a happy ending. I am finally showered rested and able to read Perez should I choose to do so. A bientot!
Then I got to spend the day with the others in the program, most of whom had slept many hours the previous night (more about them later). My luggage didn't wind up coming until this afternoon after I had already left for Parisian wanderings.
Now, my wireless decided it's not going to work, so I can't spend too long on here. There is much more to come on this story: I hope you're all waiting breathlessly for the details, because they are long and torturous. But! There is a happy ending. I am finally showered rested and able to read Perez should I choose to do so. A bientot!
Saturday, January 12, 2008
not in paris yet
Bonjour mes amis! I'm not in Paris quite yet; I have another 10 hours or so here in London Heathrow before my connection flight. As someone just pointed out to me, my layover is much longer than all my traveling time. Great planning, right?
So normally I'm not the type to write a blog (my life is not all that interesting) but I thought this might be easier/more entertaining for me to update people on my trip than doing emails and such. But in exchange, if you do choose to read you might be subjected to my everyday life. I apologize.
I had a lovely flight over; it was nearly empty so I had room to lie down across a bunch of seats. I've been sick for a few days, but I'm getting better...except that I can't really eat anything. So I'm really hungry but all the food I see makes me feel more ill. My life is hard, I know.
Anyway, as I said, I have a ton of time in the airport and I'm ridiculously bored already. What does one do during a long nighttime layover in an airport? Well, normal people might get a hotel or something. Nope. I'll be hanging around Heathrow until 6:20am (it's about 8:30 now).
I'm sitting in a Starbucks near the airport exit, watching people coming and going, milling about. The drivers waiting for their drivees look even more bored than me. What if I pretended to be one of the people they're looking for? Maybe I could get a ride into London. But if I recall correctly, the Tube closes at 1am here (I guess Brits like to sleep, hm?) so I wouldn't have much time to get about the city.
The music here is really bad, too. So far I've heard old-school Beyonce, Shaggy (whyy???) and a selection of other late '90s, early '00s pop crap. It's loud. On the bright side, I'm wearing Hanukkah socks.
Okay - Paris! I get in around 8:30 tomorrow morning and then get shipped to my homestay apartment. I'm living in the 13eme arrondissement, close to the 14eme. Mine features the National Library (which, when viewed from above supposedly looks like a bunch of open books - I looked on Google and didn't get it), Chinatown, approximately 8.6 thousand hospitals, and several sites from Les Misérables. Yay! Within walking distance are a couple of cafes where Hemingway, Stein, Fitzgerald and co. used to write. I've already researched the closest boulangeries, patisseries, and charcuteries. (That's bakeries, pastry shops, and delis.)
I'll be taking Colonial Literature at the American University of Paris, which is right next to the Eiffel Tower and across the river from the Champs-Elysees and shopping districts. It's a more touristy area than the location of La Sorbonne, the other university where I'll be studying. At the Sorbonne I'll just be taking French classes, but 10 hours a week: I think it's going to be a typical class and a phonetics/practice class. That's a lot of French. Also I'm supposedly taking a cooking class at Le Cordon Bleu but I haven't heard anything about it yet so am rather suspicious.
I will also be traveling around France quite a bit - I plan to go on the trips to Strasbourg, Rheims, Normandy, Provence, Avignon, Mont St. Michel, and Giverny. If I have time I'll go to some other European countries, too, but the two universities' spring break aren't at the same time, so we'll see how that works out. My goal is to get to Moscow.
There's an overview of my trip; I don't have much else to say at the moment, except that I'm still really bored. Oh well, only about 9 hours left here now!
Bisoux,
Angie
So normally I'm not the type to write a blog (my life is not all that interesting) but I thought this might be easier/more entertaining for me to update people on my trip than doing emails and such. But in exchange, if you do choose to read you might be subjected to my everyday life. I apologize.
I had a lovely flight over; it was nearly empty so I had room to lie down across a bunch of seats. I've been sick for a few days, but I'm getting better...except that I can't really eat anything. So I'm really hungry but all the food I see makes me feel more ill. My life is hard, I know.
Anyway, as I said, I have a ton of time in the airport and I'm ridiculously bored already. What does one do during a long nighttime layover in an airport? Well, normal people might get a hotel or something. Nope. I'll be hanging around Heathrow until 6:20am (it's about 8:30 now).
I'm sitting in a Starbucks near the airport exit, watching people coming and going, milling about. The drivers waiting for their drivees look even more bored than me. What if I pretended to be one of the people they're looking for? Maybe I could get a ride into London. But if I recall correctly, the Tube closes at 1am here (I guess Brits like to sleep, hm?) so I wouldn't have much time to get about the city.
The music here is really bad, too. So far I've heard old-school Beyonce, Shaggy (whyy???) and a selection of other late '90s, early '00s pop crap. It's loud. On the bright side, I'm wearing Hanukkah socks.
Okay - Paris! I get in around 8:30 tomorrow morning and then get shipped to my homestay apartment. I'm living in the 13eme arrondissement, close to the 14eme. Mine features the National Library (which, when viewed from above supposedly looks like a bunch of open books - I looked on Google and didn't get it), Chinatown, approximately 8.6 thousand hospitals, and several sites from Les Misérables. Yay! Within walking distance are a couple of cafes where Hemingway, Stein, Fitzgerald and co. used to write. I've already researched the closest boulangeries, patisseries, and charcuteries. (That's bakeries, pastry shops, and delis.)
I'll be taking Colonial Literature at the American University of Paris, which is right next to the Eiffel Tower and across the river from the Champs-Elysees and shopping districts. It's a more touristy area than the location of La Sorbonne, the other university where I'll be studying. At the Sorbonne I'll just be taking French classes, but 10 hours a week: I think it's going to be a typical class and a phonetics/practice class. That's a lot of French. Also I'm supposedly taking a cooking class at Le Cordon Bleu but I haven't heard anything about it yet so am rather suspicious.
I will also be traveling around France quite a bit - I plan to go on the trips to Strasbourg, Rheims, Normandy, Provence, Avignon, Mont St. Michel, and Giverny. If I have time I'll go to some other European countries, too, but the two universities' spring break aren't at the same time, so we'll see how that works out. My goal is to get to Moscow.
There's an overview of my trip; I don't have much else to say at the moment, except that I'm still really bored. Oh well, only about 9 hours left here now!
Bisoux,
Angie
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