Un jour des hommes etranges

So, first of all, my fruit tart was delicious. However, today was not so fruity. I spent all morning getting ready and trying to decide if I should skip class. While walking to the metro, I decided it was the only day I could skip and a 3 hour lecture just seemed ridiculous. So, I decided to take the morning (since I was already up) and do work. We took the bus to campus which took over an hour (not the most efficient method of transportation) and I went to Starbucks and got a latte. Only problem was you can’t get internet there. The instructions were in French and terribly confusing so I’m not sure if there is a way but I gave up and went to the computer lab. I hung out in the lounge until my computer died, then did more work in the lab (after having many technical difficulties with the computers).

At 12:30 I decided to walk to France Tourism and attempt to go on the Giverny tour. Yes, by myself. I was feeling independent and decided I really needed to do at least one of the six day trips I had been wanting to do. I walked about two miles into the center of the city only to find out they were booked. Ugh. I emailed, Facebooked, and texted a classmate, hoping they didn’t leave to do something fun right from class. I bought a sandwich and took the metro home, terribly disappointed.

When I got back, I knocked on my friend’s door, figuring it was a lost cause. But, she was home! So we spent the rest of the day in Montmartre, crossing another thing off the list. However, the trip was not without its adventures. Montmartre is known for their pickpockets so as if I’m not already super cautious, I was especially anxious about my wallet which was safely at the bottom of my zipped-up bag. But, we took lots of pictures, wandered through Sacre-Coeur (including the crypt!) and went to souvenir shops and bought some touristy things. While wandering to find the Moulin Rouge, a creepy man set me up for a beggar trap. He was at least creative. He pretended to walk by us and find a gold ring and then tried to “do me a favor” and sell it to me for the price of a coffee. It took me a second to catch on (a second too long, now that I think about it). I mean come one, I’m a 21 (yes, still 21) year-old girl. You think I don’t know what real gold looks like?

Next, we wandered up a side street to get a look at the Moulin de la Gallette. They were cleaning the streets and a car drove by and sprayed us. A street cleaner explained to us (in very fast French) that it was Seine water (not comforting) and then told us to beware of pickpockets. Then he kissed us on both cheeks and asked us to take pictures with him. I was torn between amusement and being afraid of another money ploy. But, he was just generally entertaining.

We finally found the Moulin Rouge and took lots of pictures. It reminded me of a Broadway theater. Then, we got Starbucks (just needed a taste of home) and I started my Starbucks mug collection with a “Paris” mug. I still need a New York one….

We took the metro home and I’ve never been on a train so crowded. You literally couldn’t move if you tried and this time it took me only a few seconds to realize someone was attempting to pickpocket me. On a crowded train, I wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt, but the way his arm was bent and proceeded to move between people was a little too suspicious. The old man standing in front of me suddenly grabbed his pocket and it confirmed my suspicion. The train got a little less crowded with every stop and unfortunately the pickpocketer got off at our stop. He was way too creepy. I kept my eye on him but I think I started to channel the rage from when I was pickpocketed last year. Jerk.

Anyway, we made it home safe and sound and with our wallets in tact. We tried to rent bikes to see the city. They only cost 1 euro but they wanted a 150 euro deposit. Forget it. We bought quiche and went home. Now, it’s homework time. Ugh. But tomorrow is my birthday (which I keep forgetting about). I think we have some good plans. A haunted Paris tour? We’ll see ….

Devoir au café

I spent most of the day doing homework at Amex, the campus café. I got a decent amount done and enjoyed the atmosphere. The café is so Americanized it makes me feel at home. The World Cup was on too, so I got to say I watched that too. I had a mushroom quiche and bought some coffee at the bar. By the time the kitchen opened my friend and I couldn’t resist the French fries.

After, I took a trip to Concorde to go to Longchamp and get some bags while they’re cheap. The trip was a success and I made it home trying to decide if I should buy dinner or eat my soup (all I have left). I settled on soup but when I got stuck at the cross walk near my residence I saw a fruit tart through the window and decided if I was saving money on dinner, I may as well buy dessert. I haven’t had it yet, but I’ll let you know how it is.

Les Cafés et le Marais

Yesterday I was the happiest I’ve ever been to sleep in. I woke up late, took my time getting ready, then eventually made it to school to do some work. However, I was with the girls so we spent a lot of time giggling and surfing the web and didn’t get much done. Oh well. I did have a fantastic quiche champignon (mushroom) and of course another pain au chocolat (gotta get my daily fix). On the way home we stopped at a café for dinner and had cous cous. It was pretty much all the had. Vegetable cous cous, chicken cous cous…. I guess the French are really embracing the Moroccan cuisine. We also ordered some Bordeaux which wasn’t too bad. Although, I’m pretty happy with my 1 euro bottles of wine.

At night we went to visit a friend from school in the Marais district. Why couldn’t we live there? The area was gorgeous and the nightlife amazing. I couldn’t keep track of all of the cafés, pubs, and bars we passed. Oh, and the shopping. Apparently it’s the “East Village” of Paris and extremely difficult to get an apartment in. If I come back – no, WHEN I come back – I’m staying there.

We went to a British pub and I had some cider. We hung around and talked for a bit and then the city fatigue swept in and we were ready for bed. A couple stayed out, a couple of us went back. And once I got home around 1:00 and began to set my alarm for 6:00 a.m. for my castle tour, then begin to map out where I had to take the metro in the morning, I decided to give myself the opportunity to sleep in. I was disappointed I canceled my castle tour but then again, I’d prefer to go with someone anyway. Next time I’m in Paris, I guess. Then I wont have 5 days of class and 7 days of homework draining me.

So today I’m determined to do as much homework as I can so I can make the most of my last week in Paris. I want to go to Giverny (Monet’s house and gardens), a castle or two (Fontainbleu, Vieux le Vicomte), and of course, shopping. Maybe I’ll get to that last one today.

Le Palais des Etats Unis

Today we visited the residence of the American Ambassador. Wow. I would be the Ambassador to France any day. Supposedly it’s one of the nicest American Ambassador residencies and was built in the 1800s by a rich woman from Louisiana who married a diplomat. Then someone else bought it and added onto it and in World War II was occupied by the Nazis who added a theater. To me, the place looked like a mini-Versaille. I’d pick that place over the White House. Beautiful gold lining paintings on the ceiling, portraits, Victorian furniture, gorgeous gardens … everyone just gasped when they walked in. The only things that brought it into this century were the pictures of Obama on every end table. Plus, they setup a buffet for the guests: mini croissants, pan au chocolat, fresh fruit salad, cereal, juice, coffee, tea, waiters grabbing empty dishes out of your hands – I felt like royalty.

I made conversation with the ambassador’s intern and a woman who worked at the embassy. Then we watched the documentary that brought us all there. The documentary, “25 Percent,” was about women in parliament in Afghanistan. It was fascinating to see the people who try to keep rights away from women that we take for granted in the U.S.

Afterwards, we visited Place de Concorde since it was just around the corner. (As was Prada, Gucci, Valentino, and any other unaffordable store you can think of. Good job, America, you’ve made it into the high class district.) Then two of us walked up the Champs Elysée to “window-lick” as they call it in France. I stopped in the five-story Louis Vuitton store just to say I went. Then, after a long metro ride home, I grabbed a Croque Monsieur and a peach iced tea.

Tonight, we’re headed to the bar to watch the World Cup. Europe is fantastic.

Napoleon et Le Cinema

Today was rainy again. I dreaded going to class but trekked across the city feeling accomplished just for making it there. An extra-long lecture didn’t help the matter but my assignments got reduced from 3 museum reports to 2 so it was worth it. Finally, a realization that the work is way too heavy. Wish it came sooner in the course.

After a trip to the computer lab and a kebab in the park for lunch with my classmate, I met with my TA about my project. I got some good ideas (whew - I might make it to 4,000 words) and then decided to stop at the Invalides to visit Napoleon’s Tomb on the way back. It wasn’t worth the 9 euro but I knew if I didn’t do it I’d regret it. I’ve been talking about going for years; now I can say I was there. I wandered home via metro but while transferring at the Opéra metro stop, I decided to go shoe shopping. Yes, there is a shoe store in the metro – it is Paris, after all. I tried a few pairs, but none of them fit right. I was discouraged I didn’t have appropriate flats to wear in this crazy weather and on these dirty streets, but the fact that the man understood my French had me ecstatic. I even had the confidence that I normally lack in foreign conversation.

Anyway, I eventually made it home and had some leftover Pasta Ponza and listened to music. I even started my reading for next week – how ambitious am I? Then the girls and I went to the movies. Prince of Persia in English with French subtitles – that’s an experience. Although it was slightly predictable with a disappointing ending, I love those types of movies. They remind me why I picked my concentration.

Tomorrow, we visit the Ambassador’s house. Yes, the American Ambassador. My professor got an invite yesterday and the coordinator suggested he bring the whole class. We’ll be viewing a video about the women in Afghanistan, which I actually find fascinating. It amazes me the way people live (or don’t).

I just had some leftover baguette with jam and finished some more homework. What a night. Ok, time for bed.

La Musique Parisienne et L'Histoire de l'Immigration

Another crazy day. Last night we went out to a bar with a good music scene. A ton of Americans and Brits all sang and the amazing thing was every one of them was good. Even the original pieces were surprisingly entertaining. Huddled in a basement with dim lighting, a Jack and Coke, and some inspiring music – this is Paris. It reminded me of why I love it. After, we stayed to chat with the bartender and his friends. Everyone in this city is so multi-cultured. The people we meet can generally not define where they’re from because they’re from everywhere.

The cab didn’t stop at our door till almost 3:30 so it was a good thing class was delayed until 2:00 p.m. We met at the Cité Nationale de l’Histoire de l’Immigration at the Palais de la Porte Dorée. It’s an immigration museum that tells the history of immigrants in France since the 19th century and serves as a reminder and to increase awareness of this population in France. After, three of us went with our professor and TA to the Buddhist temple across the street. Well, at least we thought it was across the street. It was actually across the street down a long path in the park. We did get a personal lesson on the religion from a Buddhist, which our professor translated (our shoes were off and everything). The religion is all about controlling desire and essentially being in touch with yourself and a good person. It reminds me of the therapy constantly being pushed in America. While yoga became popular practice in the West and quickly became disassociated with religion, meditation is doing the same. Buddhist ritual is congruent with mindfulness (something that didn’t work for me). Anyway, enough school for now.

By the time we decided to leave it started to pour. We decided to wait out the storm in a pagoda where Cambodians were having some kind of cultural gathering. They were selling various Asian foods so I got 2 spring rolls and a sandwich. I forgot how much I love Asian cuisine. We also watched the boys do some crazy acrobatics – lifting each other up by the hands and balancing on top of each other.

Eventually, the rain got worse and we ended up sprinting back to the metro. By the time we arrived, my jacket was soaked through (yes, my rain jacket) and my pants felt about thousand pounds heavier. By the time we got home it was almost 7:00 and I couldn’t believe where the day went. I wrote an essay and am currently anticipating doing my reading and responses while cooking Pasta Ponza in a way-too-tiny kitchen. Maybe tomorrow I’ll have a minute to breathe. But that’s okay. This is the way I like to live.

Les Invalides et Petit Palais

Class was boring and sleepy as usual. We had a guest lecturer, Christophe Jaffrelot, who was a very smart and funny Frenchman that does research on nationalism. Not my cup of tea as far as a topic goes but then again, none of this political stuff is. After, I decided to make the most of my day and go to Les Invalides and visit Napoleon’s Tomb. Les Invalides were gorgeous, of course (I mean, they’re in Paris) but it was 9 euro to see the tomb. I decided to take some time to evaluate the worth of those 9 Euros and went to Le Petit Palais with a classmate. We saw lots of 19th and 20th century art but most of the museum was closed (no reason given). There was also an exhibition for Yves St Laurent (yeah, I don’t know who that is either) and that took up half of the museum. There was a second floor garden, which I thought was gorgeous and so French.

After, we took a walk up the Champs-Elysée and ended up reading on a bench in the park. A long metro-ride home and a quick trip to the grocery store ended the day. I bought my very own baguette, which I was very excited about. Now my homework continues to follow me wherever I go so it’s that time of night. More museums tomorrow. Hoping for the best.

le fin de semaine/le weekend

The weekend was long – thank God. The boys finally made it and we spent the first night running around the city: had a picnic on the Seine and then headed to some bars. The drinks were expensive (8 euro for a beer) but that’s Paris. I was just happy to be with friends. One setback was that the metro closes at 1:45 so it was a race against the clock to get home (which we did).

Saturday was more eventful. A morning visit to the Louvre and Tuileries (didn’t mine the repeat visits) and then a long walk to Rue Cler. I don’t think the boys realized how far it was but we got a nice traditional café lunch at the end. Unfortunately we didn’t check the menu before we sat down. Needless to say, it was the best Coke and fruit salad I’ve ever had.

We then split off so some of us could go the Eiffel Tower (which I hadn’t been to this trip). Lots of pictures later, we took the metro back and found ourselves a Kabab. There was only enough meat for two so I took one for the team and bought a spinach quiche. No complaints. Then it was a long way to the clubs along the Champs Elysée. Unfortunately we couldn’t get into any of the exclusive nightspots but the 25 euro cover made me not too upset. The downside was that the metro had closed and taxis were unattainable. The seven-mile hike across dark Paris streets was nothing short of horrible. But it’s all about the experience I guess.

Sunday was a nice day to sleep in. Once we finally got up the boys suggested attempting to get into the finals of the French Open, which took place in Paris. After splitting up, a long metro, getting lost in the city, and then finding out it was impossible to get in, we gave up and went into the city for some sightseeing. Notre Dame, Jardins du Luxembourg, and some other things I’ve already seen. The fromage Panini and croque monsieur along the way made it worth it.

Since everything closes on Sunday, the only place open for dinner was a little Italian restaurant around the corner. You could tell immediately that the owner was Italian, since he was friendly and couldn’t be happier that we were there. A pizza and caprese salad weren’t very French of me, but we did all try the escargot. When in Paris, I guess. I have to say, I was pleasantly surprised. It tasted like a garlicky oyster.

Nighttime and an early wakeup call led us to sitting in the room and drinking some more wine. What could be better? It was only disappointing to wake up and realize the weekend was over and it was time for class.

Hopefully the week flies by again.

Les Femmes Mechantes

Today we visited the Autres Maîtres de l’Inde exhibition at the Musée du Quai Branly. This was of course after class (but I discovered there’s a coffee machine in the classroom building – whew!). I saw some interesting things that appealed to my narrow appreciation for art. Among these was an Indian painting depicting the 9/11 attacks and Hurrican Katrina. I never knew they’d depict American tragedy. I brought it up to my professor later since it tied in with the media and globalization aspect of our course (Media, Religion, and Globalization). No one in the group had seen it so I felt important for pointing it out. ;)

After, since most of the students had long since dispersed, the professor bought us a cup of coffee as we sat in the long overdue sunshine. We conversed (some more intellectual bits) and proceeded to get lunch: a gyro pita with frites (French fries)! After was some unglamorous printing at the computer lab (along with the dreaded realization of how much more reading to do), a Cherry Coke (yup, they have that here), and a walk back to the metro.

When transferring at the Opera station, somehow we got lost, despite the fact we’ve done this at least ten times before. I dropped my ticket on the ground and thought nothing of it since I was already in the subway system. We headed towards and exit and soon realized it and turned around. Alas, my bad luck never fails to lose me, no matter the country. Four French female security guards block the entrance (sounds like a children’s tale). They asked to see out scanned tickets. My and another girl explained we didn’t have ours. They didn’t care. They’re French. And authority. We argued, I volunteered to go back and look for my ticket. She said no. Finally, when she offered to call the police, we paid the 25 euro fee. Fuming, I got on the train home.

I felt the need to stay out of confinement for a while so two of us went to the graveyard at Père Lachaise. Among hundreds of others, I saw the graves of Jim Morrison and Oscar Wilde. It’s strange how so many dead bodies now simply seem as peaceful as a park.

Finally, I came home, excited that I have my visitors coming tomorrow, and proceeded to do massive amounts of homework (as if 5 hours a night wasn’t enough, 3 more essays were assigned today). I had some tomatoe soup (so French), cheese (French, sans sarcasm), and red wine (which I’m still drinking). I managed to get all my work done and one essay. Successful night.

Now, it’s time to relax. Big day tomorrow.

Les Livres et Le Louvre

Today was a busy day. First was a visit to La Bibliotheque Mazarin where we were given a private tour and shown some very old books. We then met at the café near the Louvre, but we weren’t allowed inside because our group was too big (at least that’s what the French waiter told us). We chatted about class topics over a cup of coffee and instead of going to the Louvre as a group as we had planned, us NYU students went with the professors. We were bought a year long pass – a day pass is 9.50 Euro and a year pass is only 15. Strange system. So we bought the year pass, which was a terribly long process with photo ID and all. We then got lunch at a café (courtesy of NYU…or actually courtesy of our activities fee) and ate it outside the Louvre on the fountains. Baguette with Tomate et Mozarella and another pain au chocolat. Mm….

The sun had come out by then so we walked with all of the other tourists in the Tuileries gardens before re-entering the Louvre. We didn’t have much time so we with the Mona Lisa, or “La Jaconde” and the rest of the first floor. Our year pass could let us see other things of interest throughout the next 3 weeks.

A couple of us then split off to go back to the university to print out reading and get student IDs. Depressing. But we managed to find our way back to the residence easily which was comforting.

Tomorrow is class followed by an excursion. Another busy day…

Notre Dame de Paris

Class was an improvement from yesterday simply because I could hear the professor speaking. The new classroom didn’t have the echo that the last one did. The discussions often became too philosophical and theoretical for me – the part of communication I always hated. (One more mention of Karl Marx and I’ll explode.) However, we were able to take the RER to Notre Dame at the end of class, with the intention of climbing the bell tower as an educational excursion. However, at 11:00 the line was about a mile long. We waited in the slightly shorter, faster-moving line to enter the cathedral. We did a brief walk through of the site (something I had done previously in high school but the awe never wears out).

Lunch today was a quick quiche epinard and pain au chocolat. I’ll never tire of the food. I took a long and much needed nap and woke up feeling much more suited for this time zone.

Now, where are these backpacking boys?

Soiree

            There are several small islands off the coast of Cannes that are worth a day trip.  For 9 Euros, you can visit the old jail cell where Louis XIV sent his twin brother who was nicknamed “The Man in the Iron Mask” (I need to see that movie again to refresh my memory).  An island just across from it has a gorgeous monastery where the monks make wine (strange combo, but I guess if you need the blood of Christ, why not make it yourself…).

Yesterday, for our last day in Cannes, we visited the monastery.  Walls and gorgeous vineyards surround the building.  The landscaping has everything from palm trees to cactuses to orange trees (I picked an orange – it wasn’t that good but I had to try it).  We also would climb through the paths in the woods and end up right on the shore, where the waves crashed against the rocks, giving me an irresistible urge to take too many pictures. From the shore we looked over and saw an old medieval tower, which we eventually made our way towards.  I couldn’t really understand the tour that I was snooping on, but it looked like some sort of watchtower and the view from the top was amazing.

Locals had told us to try a glass of wine.  They swore it was worth the 7 Euros and I was willing to pay for some fine, monk-made wine.  For some reason the guy wouldn’t serve it to us because they were closing in a half hour (but for some reason we were allowed to order food so I don’t know how long the French typically take to drink a glass of wine).

We caught the last boat back at 5:00 and since we were starved, stopped for some pizza while we were in town (the pork in the dining hall just didn’t sound too appetizing for our last meal).  I did get a glass of wine, however, and that was definitely worth it.  To finish off our Italian meal in France, we grabbed some gelato and headed home to get ready for our last big night out.  We went to an Irish pub where every Friday is Karaoke.  How could I be disappointed?

Le petit ville de St. Paul

            Yesterday we visited St. Paul, a little medieval village with little alleyways that remind me of why I love Europe.  After visiting a modern art museum, and realizing I remember very little from my Art History courses, we entered the fortified city and finally had the crepes we had been craving.

There was a quaint little chocolate shop (and by quaint, I mean expensive) that had 26 kinds of chocolate candies, each stamped with a different letter of the alphabet.  “C” was filled with caramel, “T” was filled with thyme, and “J” with Jasmine.  The herb ones weren’t so great, but the concept was too cute to pass up.   

             I’ve been trying to avoid taking pictures of scenes that I won’t need to scrapbook. But, in an effort to fit into the tourist stereotype (and because I can’t resist capturing beautiful scenery that doesn’t exist in the States) I took way too many pictures of St. Paul and the view from atop the city walls.  They’ll make good living room decorations some day. 

            Later, we went to the grocery store to stock up on our 2 Euro bottles of French wine since the city decided to strike again.  Every public building is closed.  These people already get 8 weeks paid vacation and they’re still striking.  I should work here. 

Tonight is a night of soirees:  Chinois Soiree for dinner, and a crepe soiree at night.  A party just for crepes? I love this country.

En Italie pour aujourd'hui

            This morning I woke up and said, “I think I’ll go to Italy today.”  No, not really – but that’s kind of how it felt.  I was pretty happy after waking up at 11:30 (first time I’ve slept in this whole trip) and everyone came to tell me we were leaving in twenty minutes.  I hadn’t expected the plan to pull through.  But, after raci

ng down to brunch (I was pretty upset I missed the omelets) and grabbing a pain au chocolat to go, we were headed for the

 train to Italy. 

            We got off in Ventimiglia, a small Mediterranean town right over the French border.  It’s amazing how you can stand on the shore of this little Italian town and see France from the shore, but you’re surrounded by a completely different culture.  The language, the architecture, the food – all we had to do was take an hour train ride and it was as if we were in the heart of Italy.

            Since it was such a spur of the moment decision, we arrived in the town during siesta, the midday “nap” w

here all of the restaurants are closed.  To top if off, it was Sunday and all of the stores were closed.  We traveled over the border just for pizza and gelato and who would have thought you couldn’t find and open pizzeria or gelatteria in Italy?

            We couldn’t complain, however, since the sun was setting over the sea and we had the perfect view.  We eventually did track down some Italians enjoying gelato and with my scarce memories 

of the Italian language, and the boys’ Spanish, we were able to communicate enough to find an open shop.  My cioccolato e caffe held me over until we made it to a little café at seven o’clock, when all of the restaurants re-opened. 

     

       The pizza, the Chianti, and even the water were the authentic and exquisite cuisine that we came for.  W

e were not disappointed.  And the Italians are so much more relaxed than the French; they made 

us feel right at home.  They could care less that we didn’t speak 

a word of Italian and that we tourists didn’t belong in such a quaint little town.  They were happy to chat and share their good culture and cuisine because even they know it’s the best in the world.

            

Cafe Francais

 I was very disappointed that they don’t offer cappuccinos in the university café.  I wanted some real French coffee.  So, on my breaks I’ve been drinking le chocolat chaud (hot chocoloate) which is good, but tastes kind of like Swiss Miss (what’s the cultural experience in that?).  But today after class I decided to give the café au lait (coffee with milk) a try.  Luckily, they drink coffee like the Italians so their coffee is just watered down espresso.  Add milk and you get a European latté.  The little things in life that make you happy…. 

Vive Obama?

Last night we hunted for a bar that would show the inauguration.  We went to many bars and pubs in search for a channel in English.  The first place was a little pub where no English was spoken (the kind I like).

             Now, the French aren’t known for their friendly nature.  Everyone knows this.  It is a borderline stereotype with some truth.  While they aren’t overtly happy and accommodating, they do have a level of kindness that, in a way, can surpass American culture. 

I ordered a rum and coke, and as far as bartending goes, the French are definitely more generous.  I think the rule here is three parts alcohol one part soda.  Anyway, in a state of excitement over who knows what, I tipped over my glass which was probably only half full (or half empty, depends what mood you’re in).  The bartender quickly rushed over and cleaned it up as I repeatedly apologized in French, embarrassed at fulfilling a clumsy American stereotype.  In less than a minute, he sat another drink (still generous on the alcohol content) right in front of me without a word.  Although he wasn’t a social guy and didn’t speak much more than a grunt nor crack a smile, this was a nice man.  This is just the French way.

Another one of the cultural differences we were warned of, even in London, was that in Europe, businesses don’t have the “customer is always right” mentality.  Several bars refused to change the channel when we asked (we were the only customers there).  So, we ended up watching the inauguration in French for most of the time.  Anyway, we ended up walking towards Italy (no lie, we were told if we kept walking we would reach the border in two hours).  Ironically, we stopped at a Chinese restaurant.  I had my first glass of good French wine (I sprung for something that was more than four Euros per bottle). 

             On the walk back, one of the boys in the group kept yelling “vive Obama!” or statements along the lines of praise for our new president.  I was worried that they would hate us (we’ve already told several people we’re Canadian).  Surprisingly, the most common reaction was “Oui, vive Obama!” Some people near the music festival even waived American flags. 

Another stereotype destroyed.

le pain et le vin

  The food here is not what I expected.  Out first meal was chicken wings and French fries (mind you, French fries are Belgian).  They might just be catering to Americans but today I had the same thing.  The dining hall is interesting too – you have to get there exactly when mealtime begins and you get your salad and they bring you your meal.  They serve you and clean away your dishes.  I’m not sure this method would work in America.

            So, needless to say the food is just alright so last night while we were hunting for some towels (I know, it took a long time for me to get that shower ) we stopped to eat at a café.  There’s a music festival here right now (Cannes, city of festivals) so there’s a lot of Americans around.  The waitress didn’t speak English though so we got to practice our French. Ironically, I got a pizza but it was still pretty good.  So were the wine and the crepe.  

            I saw the ocean for the first time.  Unfortunately it was dark and rainy so I didn’t make it on the shore.  But once we got back we got some more French wine and hung out with a group in the boys’ room.  Not a bad night.

            I had my first real French class today and it was better than I thought.  Taking things I already learned and learning then to perfection can’t hurt. And luckily my professor doesn’t fit into the French stereotype of an angry American hater.  The class is three hours every day with a fifteen minute break spent in the café drinking le chocolat chaud.  Not bad.

Cannes

And so it begins… I just got to Cannes after three days in London and I’m tired and dirty.  But since I’m in southern France at a university on the beach, I really shouldn’t complain.  I haven’t seen much of Cannes yet – everyone just rushed to their computers after having no technology for the past three days.  (Sorry Mom, I tried to call but it was too expensive.)

            I think Cannes will be better than London, despite the fact that I have to take classes here.  London is nice but it’s like an awkward limbo between America and classical Europe.  They speak English, although at times you have no clue what they’re saying.  They have the same customs, but there are little things that can offend them.  French culture is a little bit more foreign, but it’s also more obviously different.  I am nervous to speak French though.  I’m not sure why.  I guess it goes back to me not being confident in my ability to speak it, hence me being here to try to get fluent.  I have a placement test tomorrow though, so I guess if I’m “Intermediate” and not “Advanced” I’ll get over it.  I’m praying the classes in Paris are a joke (I’ve heard rumors that go both ways.)

            Oh well.  For now I’ll just focus on finding a towel, which was not supplied for us in the dorm.  Although, the room is a lot bigger than I thought it would be. Considering how small our hotel room was, the dorm room looks very similar to an American one.  The closet is a little smaller and I still don’t know where to put my suitcase but those are minor details (I’m really sporting the optimism this trip).  The college is very European – a big open courtyard surrounded by fancy walls.  Unfortunately the boys got the big rooms with the balconies. 

            Anyway, it’ll take some adjusting but I think I’m doing okay with it, especially since I’m so busy.  I really miss my family and my boyfriend and little American luxuries, but I knew all that going into it.  For now, I’ll just try to find my towel and hope that’s my biggest obstacle 

L'idee

So instead of trying to email anyone who's interested (and probably many who aren't) I decided to set up a blog.  Even though I hate that word, partly as a result of my mass communication courses, it seems practical to document my journey overseas for anyone to read at their leisure.  That way, if you don't want to know you don't have to and if you do, you can keep tabs on me right here.  It's a win-win: I don't have to rewrite the same email six times and you only read when you want to.   

Also, in years to come, I'll have a day by day documentation of what is hopefully (crossing my fingers) one of the best trips of my life.