La dernière fois

This really is the last entry. I’m at the CDG airport, killing time since I arrived absurdly early to avoid stress. I’m loading pictures from spring break and charging my iPod; I’ve got a whole little office set up. I think my power adaptor is broken, however, which is unfortunate.

Ah where to begin? I left off with the last supper, after which I unsuccessfully tried to get in touch with Joanna. We didn’t end up seeing each other that night since her phone wasn’t working and I was so concerned for her safe arrival that I was too flustered to make logistical plans to meet up. In spite of my incompetence, Farah and I managed to make some funny new friends at the café we were at. They squeezed onto our table, gave us drinks, and talked our ears off. We even split a cab with one of the girls across town to meet up with Jen, JW, Heimunn, Mackenzie, and Michael. It was really sad to part ways; the friendships I’ve made here are comparable to those made at sleep-away camp. We’ve explored Paris, traveled all over Europe, and gotten to know each other in a short and intense fashion. I can’t believe we’re leaving, or have already left.

I was super efficient Saturday morning, running errands and dropping off luggage at the storage unit in Montparnasse before meeting Joanna at her hostel. We spent the day walking all over Paris. ALL OVER. We estimated that we walked at least 10 miles. We first went to the Champ de Mars to see the Eiffel Tower. Then we went to Montmartre and the Sacre Coeur. We hit up Notre Dame and the exterior of Sainte Chappelle, plus the anciens livres vendors on Rive Gauche. We met up with Farah and her roommate from Stanford, Mackenzie, and Heimunn for lunch at Hôtel de Ville and went to a brasserie in the Marias (Les Philosophes, I think). The last lunch ☹. More goodbyes.

After, we walked around the Marais a bit and went by the Centre Pompidou. We walked to Ile St. Louis for Berthillon ice cream and then went over to the Louvre. By the pyramids we went, through the Tuileries and Place de la Concorde, up the Champs-Elysées with a quick stop for macarons at Ladurée, and then up to the Arc de Triomphe. We metroed to Sèvres-Babylone for a quick dinner before picking up our bags at Joanna’s hostel and then going to Gare de Lyon to catch our overnight train to Nice!

The train cost 15 euro and wasn’t worth a penny more. It was a 10-hour overnight trip, but there were no sleeper cars. We had to sit in our seats the whole time and attempt to sleep as well as possible. This would have been all right, except one man was snoring SO LOUDLY. It was disgusting. The whole train was awake because of it. I was able to make it stop by coughing really loudly in his face for a while and fell asleep after that, but apparently it continued the whole night. Needless to say, we were exhausted by the time we got to Nice but luckily were allowed to check into our room right away (around 9am!), which was amazing. We had an incredible view from our terrace. The hotel staff was incredibly kind and we benefited from Joanna’s dad’s platinum status and got a free bowl of fresh fruit. The butlers were kind and when they brought Joanna ice for her knee (which she had hurt the first day), they would wax poetic about how happy they were to meet us. Very nice.

We relaxed for a while before going to get lunch near the open-air market. It was a beautiful, cloudless day and we had a great time exploring Vieux Nice and sitting on the beach with our toes in the Mediterranean. Dinner was one of the best meals I’ve had in Europe at some random restaurant in town. I got fish soup, rabbit, and fruit salad; simple, but just delicious. We retired quite early since we were heading to Cinque Terre the next day.

We woke up early and grabbed breakfast on the waterfront before going to the train station to catch our Trenitalia to Genoa. There was a logistical mishap and I couldn’t print our tickets at the station, but the conductor ended up being very accommodating. From Genoa we took a train to Monterosso (the biggest of the Terres) and then to Manarola, the Terre where our hostel was located. All would have been perfect except we didn’t realize you have to validate your ticket before getting on the train under penalty of a 50-euro fine! The conductor was not as understanding on our connecting train, but luckily he reduced the fine to 5 euros each. We still weren’t happy about forking over the money, especially since he pocketed it in a sketchy way. You would think he would be more understanding of stupid tourists like us. At least we escaped relatively unscathed.

When we got to Manarola, we were blown away. It is a time warp. The town is straight out of a postcard. Our hostel was a beautiful old building on top of the hill, very clean, lots of rules, but very nice. We had a view of the whole town and the sea that stretched out seemingly forever. We settled into our room before heading out to explore Manarola. I asked for a map of Manarola at the desk and the hostel owner just laughed. It’s pretty much one street. We walked around a bit and looked at a cemetery on the top of the hill and started out on one of the coastal paths that connect the towns. We were really hungry by the time we finished seeing all there is to see in Manarola so we got dinner at one of the restaurants in town. Cinque Terre is the birthplace of pesto, and I had pesto ravioli TO DIE FOR. The pesto was fantastic. I’m hungry right now and really want some, but airport food just won’t cut it.

We went to bed early to get up early and start exploring the other towns. Breakfast at the hostel was good, all organic, with some amazing yogurt. We caught a train to Monterosso, the first of the Terres, and walked around a bit. It has a sandy beach and quite a few storees, but it was early in the morning and nothing was going on. We then found the hiking trail to Vernazza and set out on our way. The views were stunning and the greenery was lush and refreshing. We passed countless terrace farming plots where olives, herbs, and lemons were thriving. The turquoise Mediterranean splashed below as we wound around the coast. We kept hearing what sounded like thunder but dismissed as trains passing through the mountain tunnels. We were wrong; it was thunder. A storm rolled in and we found ourselves caught on the trail in rain and then hail! We waited out a bit but then continued on, getting soaked but still enjoying it. We finally made it to Vernazza after quite the adventurous hike and had pesto pizza for lunch.

Vernazza had quite a few good shops that had good gift merchandise. We made use of that. Then it was off to Corniglia, a picturesque terre up on a massive hill. After making the walk, we stopped for Italian coffees that were appropriately strong and hot, and only cost 1.50 euro! Then back to Manarola along the coast to freshen up for dinner in Riomaggiore, the last terre. back at the hostel, two new roommates had moved in. They smelled so bad. We couldn’t stop laughing when we got inside because it was just gross. To make things worse, one of them snored like a man and none of us got a good night’s rest. Nonetheless, we were up and at it early the next morning to catch a train to La Spezia and then to Florence.

When we got to Florence we checked into our hostel, Leonardo’s, which was an interesting place. It was super homey and cozy, and we got our own room! Glorious. Leonardo let us borrow his laptop and gave us a great map and info booklets about Florence, plus recommendations for where to eat, what to visit, where to go out, etc. We spent the day checking out the major sites, like the Duomo (amazing), the jewelry bridge (I want everything), and the Boboli Gardens. We had the BEST lunch at a restaurant Leonardo recommended. I had pizza whose ingredients were unbelievably fresh, but the real gem was the fettucine al fredo with black truffles that Jen and Heimunn split. So good. After our day tour, Jen had to leave for the airport and then there were three. We took a nap at the hostel before going to dinner at another of Leo’s recommendations where the waiter (who looked uncannily like Mr. Bean) was OBSESSED with Heimunn. He gave us two free rounds of Limoncino, bought Heimunn a rose, kissed her on the cheek and said she was his love. It was great.

After we went to the bar strip to see the Florence nightlife and wandered into a random bar. Of course there is someone from my high school there since the world is about the size of a 10x8 room and people pop up everywhere. It was nice to catch up a bit and always fun(ny) to see a familiar face in an unexpected place. We went to a “club” called Twice which just seemed silly after the clubs in Barcelona, but we definitely made Limoncino out of lemons and had a ball dancing in the corner by ourselves to the American music they played.

Our last day in Florence was spent shopping. Besides all that fabulous history, Florence doesn’t have anything but shopping. It’s insane. Shop after shop after shop after shop after shop. We tried to take it easy since Joanna’s knee was still quite bad and our day was passed pretty leisurely. We took a bus to Pisa to catch our flight back to Paris that night (last night). Now I’m at the airport. Five airports in 36 hours: Pisa, Paris Orly, Paris CDG, London Heathrow, JFK. I’m exhausted.

I’m anticipating a good deal of reverse culture shock. It’s going to be so strange to walk around and hear English all the time. Life is just so easy in the US. You can get anything you want whenever. American culture is built around innovation to accommodate people’s needs and desires, whereas French culture is pretty much the opposite. You adjust to society, society won’t lift a finger for you. And that’s okay. I’ve grown to really like that. I was incredibly relieved to touch down in Paris, not only because there were about 50 screaming and singing Italian children on the plane, but also because I take comfort in French culture, language, and society. It feels right. It fits. I don’t mind bending over backwards for Paris.

And so I finish this blog. I hope you have enjoyed reading about my European experiences; I had a good time experiencing them.

Leaving Paris

I’m sitting in my room, surrounded by my packed suitcases. It’s a strange feeling. I vividly remember how I felt the first day I arrived at rue Davioud; how empty the room felt and how I wondered if it would ever feel like home. I remember how throughout the quarter, the spaces on the shelves were filled little by little, and by the time I had to pack it all up today, it had really become my room.

And now I’m leaving. Everyone says every quarter goes by so fast and this one has been no exception. Today in class when everyone was presenting their last Practicum projects, several were quite sentimental. I thought I was going to cry when Jen and JW showed their intentionally cheesy video, shot in black and white and set to Wonderwall. Melodrama aside, I have had the experience of my life. The thing I know for sure at this point is that I am coming back to Paris the first chance I get.

I love it here. I love how I feel when I walk on the streets. I love speaking French. I love it and I it feels like home. I can’t believe I have to leave this incredible city; I could live here for the rest of my life and never get enough.

This week hasn’t been particularly exciting; lots of work mostly, tying up loose ends. For the Survey symposium on Wednesday, my Powerpoint didn’t work and I had to do without it. It didn’t go very well. Blast technology. For Thursday’s Practicum presentation, I performed an interpretative dance in the pavilion at the Jardin de Luxembourg. Due to more technical difficulties, I couldn’t get the music to play aloud. Consequently I performed my dance while listening to the music on my iPod; a silent spectacle for the rest. I think it went well regardless of the lack of music and it felt glorious to dance, making a fool of myself, in the fresh air. Last night was the Bing goodbye diner at the Palais de Tokyo. It’s the restaurant attached to the museum (modern art), and was accordingly funky. I liked it. The food was very good and refreshingly not French, although I still adore French food and always will. After dinner I met up (finally!) my friend from high school who has been in Paris this quarter with another program. It was great to see her and I’m sad we didn’t get our acts together to meet up more.

Today was the last Practicum presentation. I presented my Montmartre portrait adventure. I was glad to share it with the class; they appreciated the story. The other projects were impressive, as usual. Farah took some awesome pictures and did cool stuff with them on Photoshop; Natalia and Scott did a duo-dance/drama scene; Tammy did an historical/modern photograph juxtaposition; Andrew explored the power of an image; Jen and JW did the movie previously mentioned. After class I finished my paper for Estelle’s class, slid it under her door, and then I was done. Done! Done. Academic quarter came to a close, just like that.

Farah, David, Mark and I went to get lunch at Pub St. Germain, which was one of my fave cafes in Paris until the service was deplorable today. Oh well, can’t leave Paris without being reminded of the bad service. My smoked salmon salad was still pretty good. I spent the rest of the afternoon packing and running errands, like buying a box to ship my winter coats and boots home, getting stationery to write thanks-yous, and getting a gift for my host family (a polished wood picture frame).

I just finished the last supper with my host family. It feels surreal. They also kindly gave me a gift—a big Paris tote bag! It’s a good useful size. I might repack my things into it for spring break since I awkwardly have the extra roll-y suitcase that I bought… we’ll see. I’ll keep you posted.

DON'T MAKE ME GO

Group picture after jazz concert at American Cathedral

Seriously. How am I leaving at the end of this week!? This week sucks, by the way, because everyone is consumed with work and no one wants to do anything. I am forcing myself to be social and see people. It requires great efficiency during the day that may or may not be achieved. I still want to make it over to Jardin des Plantes since I have done nothing touristy for the past week and a half and Paris is slipping through my fingers.

Anyway, a little run-down on what I've been up to since last Wednesday:

• Thursday: I woke up pretty late and then did homework (I think...). That evening was La Fête de la crêpe at ISEP where some other students presented their artwork and we munched on crepes courtesy of Elizabeth. Kerstin and Thierry presented their sketches from their live model drawing class at EAP; Jen presented her acrylic paintings from her class at EAP; Tammy presented her pastels inspired by Monet she did for the Practicum; Natalia performed a dance from her dance group back at Stanford; Scott presented his cross made out of wood and broken wine bottles he made for the Practicum; overall, it was a great success! Scott and David brought their guitars and played some Simon and Garfunkel, Kai and Peter danced impressive salsa, and it was a good time by all. I was a bit of a wallflower to my chagrin, but it was nice to be a spectator and chill out a bit.
• After the fête I went with Farah to the 15th so she could drop off her stuff, and then we went to the St. Germain-des-Près area to check out a bar we had heard much about, Chez George (no s) and meet up with Farah's friend, Soraya. It was exactly what you might imagine a crowded Parisian bar to be. We descended the stairs into a small room filled with people sitting at wooden tables on little stools, a fire was burning, music played in the other room (accessed through a small stone archway), and you bought wine by the bottle. It gets an A for ambience. We had a really fun time talking to French people there before we headed over to the first to go to a club called Le Cab. It was very chic, very nice, and I think I saw some Fashion Week models, but you never know.
• Friday: I thankfully didn't have my health systems class. I woke up, did homework, went to the Center, did more work, had dinner, and then met up with Heimunn and Jen for drinks. It wasn't a very eventful day.
• Saturday: Jen, JW, Michael, Mackenzie and I went to a diner called "Breakfast in America." The waiters are all American and so is the food. I got the Deuces Wild (two eggs, two pancakes, and two strips of bacon) and split chili-cheese fries with Mackenzie. JW got the Triple Play (use your imagination) and a strawberry shake with a side of home fries; Jen got a milkshake and eggs over easy with toast and potatoes; Mackenzie got a classic burger. IT WAS AMAZING. I love French food but America does some things right.

The aftermath of Breakfast in America

• After brunch I headed to Montmartre to do a Practicum project. I had decided I was going to offer free portraits near the Sacre Coeur to participate and engage in the artist community of Montmartre. This was all good in theory, but when I got there I was scared because 1) I'm a bad artist and 2) there were legitimate artists all around me. After walking around aimlessly I finally mustered the courage to take out my sketch pad and "Junior Artist Pastels." Below is the write-up I did for the course; feel free to read it. It was a pretty interesting experience.

Me with some of my clients

I felt incredibly dumb as five artists came over to where I was standing to see what I was all about. I explained to them I was not an artist, but was offering portraits as part of an art project. They felt my paper and remarked on its quality: “Ça coute très cher,” they kept saying. They eyed my pastels. One kind artist agreed to let me do his portrait. He chose the red pastel, “Rouge comme les femmes.” I did his portrait while the other artists hovered around, laughing at my obtuse skill. When I finished, I felt more confident about the whole endeavor and was ready to advertise a little more. I made a sign: “Amateur, mais gratuit,” and placed it at my feet.

A group of students approached me next. They were very friendly and I did the portraits of four of the girls. The first girl kept joking (in French), “Don’t do the pimple, okay!?” since she had a blemish on her forehead. I assured her it would not be included. The other artists were giving me dirty looks, jealous of my popularity. When the group of kids had left (and after they tipped me four euro!), some of the artists said snidely (in French), “You need to say amateur portrait on your sign. Otherwise people will probably think you’re a free prostitute.” So kind. So I added “Portrait” above “Amateur,” and stood my ground.

An American man with his hood on came and stood next to me. I asked if he wanted his portrait done. He responded, “Do I look like I do?” and laughed jovially. He then said, “I just did something pretty silly. Want to hear about it?” Of course I did. Turns out he had just gotten a beer at the pub up the street, and then decided to order a coffee. When the bill came, it turned out the beer was 4 euro, and the coffee was 4.50 euro! Ken, the hooded American, was pissed at the pub for charging him so much, so he stole the salt- and peppershakers. He reached into his front pocket and showed them to me. We laughed about that for a while. He was nice and made me feel less afraid of the other artists. He finally agreed to have me draw his portrait, which turned out really badly but he was good-natured about it. As I was absorbed in drawing his portrait, though, the angry artists stole my sign! Ken kindly offered his portrait as the new sign, so I took it and wrote, “PORTRAIT AMATEUR GRATUIT,” on the back and placed it at my feet.

A couple walked by and the woman looked at my sign with interest. They stopped and asked if it was really free, and I confirmed it really was but with the caveat that I was not a good artist. That was okay with them. I started to draw the woman but then two nasty old artists came over to me, complaining that what I was doing was horrible and that I was taking away from their livelihood, that was I was doing was just too much. I asked them to let me finish the portrait I was doing, but then they snatched my new sign. “Give that back!” I said forcefully, but they refused. Then Ken intervened and said, “That’s my portrait! That’s mine!” The old artists saw his picture on the back and grudgingly returned the sign, but I was still quite disturbed. As I returned my attention to my customer, another scary old artist got in my face and told me with a nearly incomprehensible accent to “Fuck off.” Clearly my prodigious portraiture skills were threatening to them. I finished the portrait I was doing, more hastily than I wanted to, and moved around the corner.

I was disappointed I hadn’t held my ground since I had every right to be in the other location, but I had started to feel legitimately threatened. Around the corner I was alone. I set up camp next to some side steps of the Sacre Coeur, putting up my sign once more. A family came by and the little girl wanted her portrait done. I obliged and unfortunately it turned out quite badly. Children are hard! I drew her face shape all wrong. I asked her if she liked it at the end and she didn’t answer in the affirmative. Oh well, I tried. Her mom kindly tipped me five euro, though, and was very gracious in general.

By this time the wind had kicked in and my hands were starting to get really cold. I decided I would call it a day in 15 minutes. The last customers were a group of 20-somethings; three Brits and one French person. They approached and I thought I heard them speaking English, so I asked, “français ou anglais?” and they responded, “N’importe,” with good French accents, so we continued in French. When they sat and I started drawing, we started talking and I told them I was from the States, and they said, “Oh, so we can speak in English?” We spoke in English after that. Their portraits ended up okay on the whole.

• I was so tired when I got home I didn't even eat dinner; I just went to bed. Early night.
• Sunday: I was pretty productive. I pretty much just did homework the whole day. I met up with Farah for dinner near Opéra Garnier. We got to talking to the two French guys sitting next to us (after they offered up some of their fondue), and it turns out one is a guide-book writer. He spent three weeks in Vegas once! Crazy. Anyway, he was full of recommendations for places for us to go in Paris, mostly in the 19th and 20th. This was all very kind, but he kept describing the bars as the "trashiest places." He meant places to get trashed, or drink a lot, but Farah and I kept laughing because it sounded so funny. Oh, the English/French interface.
• Monday: today. I didn't have class, but had lots of work. I woke up, worked on a paper, and then went outside to run. IT WAS SO PRETTY OUTSIDE TODAY! Almost 60 degrees, cloudless sky, warm sun; ah, c'était merveilleux. I wish I could have spent more time outside! The crocuses and daffodils are up in Bois de Boulogne, the flowers are blooming in the Jardin du Ranelagh, and I am stuck indoors writing papers! At least I sat in the sun at my fave café where the waiter and I are buddies, La Rotonde La Muette. Then I was off to the Center to hole myself up, edit and print my paper, and start work on a presentation.

I have some things to look forward to, thankfully. Tomorrow I'm meeting up with Emilie to go back with her to Domont to look at a chateau near her house and have dinner with her family. Thursday is the Bing goodbye dinner at the Palais de Tokyo, which should be scrumption (and sad). Joanna gets here on Friday and I can't wait to see her! Then we're off Nice... But first, a presentation, another paper, a peer review, and two art presentations. Whoopee!

(I don't think anyone my age has ever said "Whoopee" in their lives.)

Quick update

The end is near! I know this because I have too much work that I am currently not doing. Blast!

Here is a quick update on the happenings. I believe I last wrote on Saturday…

Sunday I spent in a bistro, reading the book I had to review for my health systems class. It was actually very good. It’s called La Maternité: progrès et promesses by Emile Papiernik, and I learned a lot about the state of maternal health in both France and many other parts of the world. A big takeaway point: the US needs to step it up in the case of protecting its pregnant women. Premature births are a huge burden to the health system and they can be prevented with better prenatal care and employee protection.

Monday I didn’t have class but I had to write my essay, so I hung out in La Rotonde La Muette and tried to be productive. Tuesday I had lots of class and then came back home to do things. Farah and I met up for a drink after dinner at Wine and Bubbles in the first, which was a cute little place. The wine we got was very good, but we were the youngest people there by about 10 years. Wednesday I went to the Centre Pompidou library to do research before Estelle’s class at Musée d’Orsay.

After learning about Degas, I went back home and napped and then went running. My host family kindly prepared dinner early for me, since I was going to Mark’s jazz concert at the American Cathedral. It was an event put on by the Stanford Alumni Club of Paris and the American Club of Paris. It was a great time! The music was good and Mark included commentary and background information about jazz and blues improvisation, and his dad was there so they played some four hands. The cocktail dinner was well catered which I took advantage of in my usual manner, and several of us had some good conversations with some of the older attendees. We met some characters. This one woman, Jody, may or may not have been a pathological liar, but she showed us a picture of her shaking Bill Clinton’s hand, said she was a model, she ran three marathons, was on the cover of Vogue, etc. Another woman, Semner, was a friendly Texan who was curious about what all us young folk were doing. Then outside as we were preparing to leave, two women were clearly a bit tipsy and telling us the good bars to go out. They were probably about 60. Afterwards, Heimunn, Farah, and Farah’s friend from Jordan, Seriah, went to a club called Duplex with Farah’s language partner and his cousin. It was a really good time, even though Kevin (language partner) was a little overzealous, and cousin Marvin's dancing was just ridiculous.

That sums up the week thus far! I have to plan more spring break details and somehow get through all of this work!

Paris stretch

With my host parents in the salon

I love Paris. I’m glad I’ve gotten to spend the whole week here (gasp!) without traveling for once. It’s a real shame that the quarter is so short, because it’s very difficult to balance taking advantage of being in Europe while still getting to spend a significant amount of time in one place. I think I’m mostly happy with the way I’ve divided my time here, but it has been really nice staying in Paris for the past week or so and I don’t want the quarter to end.

Wednesday, for Estelle’s class, we met at Musée Marmottan, conveniently located within walking distance of my host family’s apartment. It’s small museum, but has the largest collection of Monet’s works in the world. I really liked it. Also, they had an exhibition that was shown in the Stanford Medical School library about Monet’s vision and what his paintings likely looked like to him. It was great to see the modified print (Monet’s vision) directly next to the original work. I spent the rest of the afternoon doing errands, stopping by Fnac to get a memory card and Shakespeare & Co. to pick up a book for Emilie. I chose Of Mice and Men; I hope she likes it! When I was walking back to the metro, I found the cheapest crepes in Paris (informal comparison), and walked by a bar where a girl was leaning back over a candle and her hair caught on fire! It was literally all aflame. I was waving my hands trying to get her attention and eventually she realized her head was on fire.

Thursday I had Practicum presentations until 2pm, after which I grabbed lunch and met Heimunn at the Conciergerie to see the temporary exhibit on World’s Fair architecture. It was extremely interesting, but the entire hall was filled with 80-something women. Very specific demographic landscape. Anyway, the Conciergerie was the first home to the French kings starting in the 6th century until the 11th, then the seat of Parliament, and then was a prison. The main hall is enormous with absolutely gigantic fireplaces. The exhibit on the architecture was cool and I learned a lot about the World Fairs in Paris that I didn’t know before. They built and destroyed elaborate buildings like it was nothing!

Thursday night was the Host Family Cocktail at ISEP. I went with my host parents and introduced them to my friends, and I met their host parents. It was a successful event overall, although the hors d’oeuvres that were meant to replace dinner were not sufficient.

Friday I had my final exam for Comparative Health Systems. After getting that out of the way, I met up with Heimunn for lunch and then we went to the Louvre to meet up with Michael and his friend Zane, visiting from Edinburgh. Heimunn and I showed off a little of our 19th century French painting knowledge before walking through the Tuileries to the Orangerie. Before we left the Louvre, however, how small the world is became very apparent in two ways: first, Zane is friends with Alex who knows my friend Julie at Penn, and also knows Emma who is in Edinburgh who went to my high school; second, I saw and talked to Michigan people I had met two years ago when I visited Allyson outside the Louvre near the pyramid. Small world!

On the way over to the Orangerie, Heimunn and I walked by the Dior prêt-à-porter show as it was ending, and we saw some models and very fashionable people walking by. It was cool. Then in the museum, we saw panoramic water lilies by Monet, displayed in circular rooms so you feel as though you’re in an aquarium. They were beautiful.

Panoramic Monet

Friday night was a Bing event: ballet at Opera Garnier! It was stunning. Everything. Opera Garnier is unbelievably beautiful and the ballet itself was wonderful. We saw Le Parc by Angelin Preljocaj, a modern ballet exploring the timeless concepts of love and pursuit. It was an interesting mix of modern and traditional choreography set to Mozart. The sets were spectacular and the dancing as well. I’m glad we got to see it. We had amazing seats, too; right in the orchestra!

Chagall ceiling in Opéra Garnier

Heimunn, Michael, Zane and I had dinner in St. Michel and then got a drink in the 6th at a bar the boys had discovered earlier that week. We got the last Metro home, except by the time I got to my connection to the nine off of the ten the metro had stopped running, which meant I had to walk from Michel-Ange Auteuil. It could have been worse.

Saturday was largely unproductive. I slept late and looked at spring classes on Courserank, went running, then hung out at a café near my house to have some food and to read. I still have a ton left to do! I met Michael and Zane for dinner in Montmartre and then stopped by the birthday bash celebration of Kerstin and Aleema at a bar right near Pigalle. A couple of us migrated up the hill to a hole-in-the-wall bar Michael and Zane had been at before dinner that had a great atmosphere. Funky art was on the walls and the artist was milling around, socializing; some guy from Madagascar who plays jazz was talking to everyone; the one guy working there made super strong drinks with a big smile; all drinks cost only 3.50! We’ll definitely be going back. I took the last metro back again, except guess what happened? I missed my connection. I love the 16th but it is freaking hard to get to! I was stranded near the Arc de Triomphe, a half-hour walk at least. I had run out of cash and didn’t really want to spend a ton of money on a cab, so I started to wander. The problem was I forgot my map (which I never forget!), and wasn’t feeling too good about walking. Luckily I found a stop for my Noctilien line, the night bus that runs after the Metro stops running, and took that home.

Today I have too much work that I am clearly avoiding by writing this. I’m going to hole myself up in a café.

Short week in Paris, long weekend in Barcelona

So much to write! I am so tired right now though since I have gotten a total of 8 hours sleep over the past two nights. I will suck it up a little while longer to write before I forget everything.

My short week in Paris was good. I met up with a Kappa friend who finished her master this past fall and is now living in Paris at Odéon and caught up with her a bit, which was fun and a good Monday night activity. I will hopefully get to see her again before the quarter ends. Tuesday was full of annoying class with papers due and a midterm. I happily spent the afternoon at Musée Rodin, though, which was great. The museum is an indoor/outdoor affair, with a huge collection of his works and interesting write-ups. I found his iron cast sculptures to be most powerful, although his marble work isn’t half bad. My favorite work was actually not a Rodin sculpture but one made by his mistress, Camille Claudel. It is of two people waltzing and is stunning. I’ve included a picture below, not my own since I forgot my camera, which is probably better anyway.

Wednesday was a busy day, spent running around Paris getting ready to leave for our trip. I had Estelle’s class at Musée d’Orsay, ran home to pack, raced over to the Center for the wine and cheese tasting tutorial, and then over to Jen’s to cook dinner and have a sleepover. The wine and cheese event was very informative and I even took notes since it was so interesting. It was amazing how important pairing the correct wine with a cheese is and how much doing so enhances the flavors of both. The sleepover at Jen’s was great. We made a vat of pasta with meat sauce and green beans and I was very glad to have some good ol’ American dinner portions. Heimunn, Jen, Michael and I swapped stories at her kitchen table over wine and lots of laughing. It was really nice, as corny as that seems.

Our feast, chez les Gateliers

Thursday was consumed by traveling. I have decided I hate Ryanair. Beauvais airport is a pain to get to, and the bus costs 13 euro each way from Porte Maillot. The line to check in was horribly long, and when I finally was able to check in my bag was too heavy and fat and had to be checked. Had I not been so flustered, I would have strategically repacked things and all would have been fine but I was not in the mood to open my bag and repack in front of hundreds of agitated travelers. Thus, I had to pay 20 freaking euros to check my bag. When we get on the plane, I see in the overhead space there are at least 6 inches of extra space as compared to the stupid wire bag maximum dimensions box. I understand the weight limit, but having a false volume limit is senseless and incredibly inconvenient and plain messed up. I fumed all the way to Girona, but felt better as we finally made it to Barcelona (after an hour bus ride worth 12 euro). Moral of the story: I freaking hate Ryanair. Ça vaut pas la peine de garder 20 euro.

Barcelona was great immediately. We checked into our sweet apartment right in the heart of L’Eixample. Heimunn and I staked out the sweet master bedroom and Michael was banished to a cave room. Farah and Fadlo were coming a little later, and Jen and JW much later. Michael and I went running to explore a bit and had a good time doing agilities around the hordes of people on the street. We saw a lot of the city just running around, including La Rambla, the Barrio Gothique, Port Olimpico, and all around L’Eixample. When we got back, the three of us went grocery shopping to stock our apartment for breakfast and get some essentials.

Michael and I ran by this

Farah and Fadlo arrived in time for us to get dinner. We went for tapas ,which weren’t very good, but had great sangria with it that made it better. We had time to kill before Jen and JW arrived so we headed to a bar that had a neat ambiance and cool décor, kind of medieval meets modern chic.

The next day we woke up to bright sunshine and warmth. We did a lot of exploring, checking out La Rambla and going to La Boqueria, pretty much a farmer’s market on steroids. I got the best gelato there and fresh sliced mango. We wandered down to the ocean front and had lunch at a noodle place on the pier, which turned out to be disappointing since the servers were incompetent and the food mediocre, but we sat outside and enjoyed the weather nonetheless. In the afternoon, Heimunn, Michael and I went to the Picasso museum and learned quite a bit about Picasso’s early work. It was a good museum and enriched by our visit to the Picasso exhibit at the Grand Palais at the beginning of February. My favorite part was a multimedia display of Picasso’s interpretations of Velazquez’s Las Meninas, which was incredibly well done and insightful. Jen and I went running to Parc de la Ciutadella, which was so beautiful! Very different from the rigid structure of French parks. I’m really glad we got to see it.

Plaça de Catalunya (sp?)

La Boqueria

Lunch by the water

Dinner that night was cooked at the apartment. Farah made mushroom risotto, veal with a lemon and caper sauce, green salad with yummy vegetables, and fruit salad. We all helped out in the kitchen and it was a fun little dinner party and I made the observation that you know you’re no longer a teenager when having a dinner party is your idea of a great night. We weren’t completely old farts, though, and we headed out to Port Olimpico to check out the epic nightlife, as we had heard. We went to Opium, one of the bigger clubs, and had a fabulous time. The music was good and there was an outdoor terrace right on the beach where you could go and get some air and take a break from dancing. I had a great time. I don’t think I can ever dance to rap again, it just doesn’t have the same punch as the techno/electronica beats, which are harder to do well. When we left we went out onto the beach and Jen (in typical and wonderful Jen fashion) took off her clothes to jump into the Mediterranean. I wanted to join but it was too cold for my feeble body to handle.

Dinner at our apartment

Dancing at Opium

The next day we woke up late to cloudy skies. Nonetheless, after an elaborate brunch of veggie omelet and plenty of bread and nutella, we went out to look at come Gaudi architecture. We walked by Casa Batló (right across fom our apartment pretty much) on our way to La Pedrera, a huge and marvelous apartment a bit farther north. We went inside and learned a ton about Gaudi’s life and work through the well-done museum. It was very engaging, with video, models, all inside the beautiful apartment building itself. The pictures can speak for themselves. We saw La Sagrada after, Gaudi’s still unfinished cathedral, but arrived too late and couldn’t go inside. It was still beautiful from the outside, though. Anyway, it was almost time for us to get ready for dinner.

La Pedrera (model)

Dinner was unreal. Comerç 24 is a molecular food restaurant, which basically means they use the chemistry of the ingredients to do crazy (and delicious) things with textures and taste combinations. We ordered the Grand Festival tasting menu, and it was the fanciest meal I have ever had. I took pictures in true tourist form of every dish, except I forgot the saffron rice course! Just imagine it somewhere in there. The menu came with 12 dishes served over about 8 courses. The food blew me away. My favorite was a beef consommé with quail eggs, black truffles, and parmesan cheese. It was incredible. The tastes were subtle yet explosive, and the presentation of everything was beautiful. I also really enjoyed the cold soup with cucumber, carrot, sea urchin, and flower petals. The steak was perfectly cooked and the cherries and strawberries it came with went perfectly. Overall it was truly a gourmet experience, decadent and delicious. After sitting and eating in the restaurant from 8:45 until 12:30, though, I was ready to leave.

Oysters; lobster and avocado roll



Cold soup with sea urchin and flower petals



Consommé with quail eggs, black truffles, and parmesan



Steak with cherries and strawberries, cheese

Passion fruit smoothie; yogurt/cream and fresh fruit; caramel filled chocolates; chocolate mousse; black cookies with cream; meringue

Farah, Heimunn, Fadlo and I went to Port Olimpico again but this time went to the smaller bars and clubs right on the water. Most were a bit too sketchy for our tastes, but we went to a bar called the Irish Sailing Club where there was live music and not too many creepy men. We enjoyed listening to Irish pub music sung with a Spanish accent and then decided to go to Shoko, another big club. This place wasn’t as fun as Opium, and we decided it’s because the people there were older, fatter, and generally less appealing. This didn’t matter too much, though, since we were pretty much keeping to ourselves and had a fun time dancing anyway. Except when someone was reading a MLK Jr. speech over techno beats; that was weird.

Sunday was spent at Park Guell, designed by Gaudi. After trekking up a massive hill to reach it, we were awed by how whimsical everything was, and the intense attention to detail that must have been paid to every last unique mosaic and spiraling, asymmetric tower. We took lots of pictures and walked around a bit. We were all dying for paella after and found a place close to La Sagrada with the intention of going inside that day. Needless to say, paella ended up taking a long time and we missed the hours of La Sagrada again! Our bad. At least we found an open market to get ingredients for that night’s dinner.

The hill we climbed to get to...

Park Guëll!

Music in the park

Michael, Heimunn and I cooked a meal with limited resources that turned out well. We made a potato gratin with cheese and ham, sautéed peppers, onions, and mushrooms, and a green salad. Dessert was French toast made with our leftover eggs and spread with jam and nutella. Not bad!

Jen and JW had to leave at an ungodly hour to walk to the bus station to catch the bus to Girona to catch their flight to Beauvais (I hate Ryanair), and left around 3:00am. Michael, Heimunn and I went to sleep since we didn’t have to leave until 8:15am. By 3:30am, JW was back in our room and I was extremely disoriented. Two men driving by on a motorcycle had stolen Jen’s purse! They literally snatched it off her shoulder, breaking the strap and racing off with everything: her passport, her wallet, her iPod, JW’s iPhone, her camera. I mean, what the hell. Those guys are horrible human beings. And there was nothing Jen could have done! The whole thing took place in about two seconds. Everyone was frazzled, shocked, especially Jen, although she was incredibly composed given the circumstances. We spent the next hour and a half trying to get in touch with her parents, the Stanford program, the police, and figuring out what to do next.

We all slept for a bit before Heimunn, Michael and I had to leave for a flight, sadly leaving Jen and JW. It’s at times like these that I realize how thankful I am to be with the Stanford program and not some random, hands-off thing. Estelle and Fabienne took over right away and Jen is now in Madrid, in a hotel next to the Canadian consulate, and is in contact with Stanford in Madrid program. Hopefully she will be back tomorrow, we miss her already!

I’m so sad those idiots on the motorcycle tarnished our trip at the last moment. Apart from that, it really was a fabulous trip. I’d love to go back! I must admit, however, I am very glad to be back in Paris where I speak the language and I am not a complete newb with the public transit and overall mode de vie. It feels more and more like home.

Anna Karenina; this weekend

I must write this now, before the transcendental mood passes, even though it is a most inopportune time given the loads of unfortunate homework I have to do.

I just finished Anna Karenina and, as one always does after finishing novels of epic proportions, I feel especially pensive. As I walked from Café Beaubourg near the Centre Pompidou to Pub Saint Germain to meet up with Heimunn and Farah, I felt very much alive and free. I saw commotion near Les Halles, dogs walking, people taking pictures, and all the monuments lit up. It was beautiful and I loved it all, and I felt as though I understood Paris better than I had understood it, up to that point. Of course these lucid moments are fleeting and nearly always instigated by some rhetoric found in books like Anna Karenina, but nonetheless I appreciated walking and breathing Paris to the marrow. This is an inarticulate description of my current mindset, but it will have to suffice.

With that out of the way, some criticism and general remarks on the book. I have been reading Tolstoy’s novel for many months now, spanning the end of summer, a break during fall quarter, and recommencement during winter break. I enjoyed it for the overwhelming majority of the time and I am impressed with Tolstoy’s story-telling abilities and character development. As I neared the end, however, Anna’s character grated on me more and more. Her paranoia and irrational jealousies, self-pity, and overall ridiculousness were difficult to digest. It is likely that this was intentional, but still. Stupid Anna! I was probably supposed to pity her more, but didn’t. At all. I found her to be selfish. Perhaps this will change as I distance myself from the book, but those are the current impressions.

Also, the last forty pages of the prose were a bit too philosophical. The ideas those forty pages described could be better expressed in twenty pages. This is not to say that I didn’t and don’t appreciate the ideas and the conclusions Levin in particular came to, it’s just that Oscar Wilde’s insight always rings true: “Brevity is the soul of wit.”

When I finished, I wanted to read some of the critical articles at the back of the edition. The writing in the front cover— “Eric Saar, 5th period AP English”— made me miss the critical analysis that English classes force upon you. I wished to think more about the book in a directed manner, but the dim light of the Beaubourg Café and the impinging dinner rush rushed me out to seek another hideout. Which is where I find myself now.

Pub Saint Germain is amazing. I should have come here sooner! The ambiance beats that of any other café I’ve been to yet. It’s huge. It’s warm. It plays jazzy but not cheesy music. A tap dancer just made his rounds to the various floors, giving a little performance to the delights café dwellers. The décor is decidedly India-inspired, but in a chic way. And free wi-fi! The prices reflect all of this, unfortunately.

Quick recap of the weekend. Friday I was once again out of commission due to the pesky food poisoning. After watching some Sex and the City, I retired early. Saturday was better since I finally flushed the norovirus from my body. I met up with Farah, Fadlo, Jen and JW on Rue Cler for lunch. Rue Cler is a picturesque cobblestone street with all the specialty food stores that are so Paris: fromagerie, boucherie, boulangerie, épicerie, etc. Plans in the future include getting yummy treats and picnicking under the Eiffel Tour. I want warm weather!

Semi-candid shot at Blue Elephant. Note decor.

I spent the evening back at the abode before heading out to the Bastille for dinner. It was amazing! We went to this incredible Thai place called the Blue Elephant that Heimunn’s host family recommended. The food was good and really hit the spot since I’ve been craving good Asian food. The décor was impressive, very novel and jungle-like. We sat at low table with floor cushions; there was a hole under the table for our feet, though, so it felt as though we were seated at a normal table. We split appetizers and entrees, and had a lovely range of flavors artfully presented to us. After dinner we attempted to look at the Bergé-Laurent collection on display in the Grand Palais but the line was out of control! It wrapped along the side of the Grand Palais and poured onto the sidewalk, creeping toward the metro stop Champs-Elysees Clemenceau. We ditched those plans and killed some time loitering outside the Petit Palais before going to Showcase, a club that has been recommended to us by many.

Heimunn, Farah and Fadlo outside Grand Palais;
you can vaguely see the enormous line!

We went early to avoid paying cover, and the large club was almost empty. The architecture was cool, since it is literally built underneath Pont Alexandre, but that was the only thing cool about it. The music was downright bad. A bunch of twenty-something dudes gesticulated onstage, too excited about their live electronica performance to heed that it sucked. One of them wore a deep v-neck t-shirt, clearly from American Apparel, and when he raised his arms (which was often), large pit stains were presented to the audience. Disappointing. We tried to stick it out, waiting for me more people to come and the music to pick up, but it never did. The evening had started out so strongly at Blue Elephant, but Showcase really sucked. Oh well, at least I made the metro home.

This week will be packed with tests and things due, but it will be capped off with five days in Barcelona! We are renting an apartment in a good neighborhood and I absolutely can’t wait. If you have suggestions for our trip, email me! N’hésitez pas.

This week: Musée Chirac, Practicum, L’Assemblée Nationale

I can’t believe it’s February 19! The quarter is over in a month and then it’s back to the States. I hope I’m still making the best of my time here…you can be the judge.

On Tuesday, I met up with Emilie again and we went to the Musée du président Jacques Chirac, the legacy of the former President. It was quite large and crowded, with a lot of interesting and novel art. The museum focuses on non-Western art and is arranged by continent: Oceania, Asia, Africa, and the Americas. Emilie brought her camera and got some good photos. You can check them out on Facebook; I think I’m tagged in a few and maybe you can see her album from there. We had hot chocolate and a waffle at a café nearby before I met up with Jen, Michael, Heimunn, Mackenzie, Farah, and to catch up on our weekends spent in Amsterdam, Morocco, and London/Edinburgh, respectively.

Dinner was a yummy salmon and spinach quiche, but I had eaten a suspicious tuna sandwich for lunch and I felt quite nauseous. I went to bed and had trouble sleeping and woke up the next day with nausea and a headache (as I wrote in the previous posting). The presentation at Musée d’Orsay went all right. I presented La Blanchisseuse by Honoré Daumier, a painting that piqued my interest because of its pleasing composition and use of light. There turned out to be an interesting story behind it and I came upon some intriguing interpretations. Unfortunately I felt very ill and very tired the whole time.



After Musée d’Orsay, Jen and I headed over to Ashley’s house in Montmartre to do our Practicum Project. The idea was to recreate some of Ingres’ tableaux, in which the body proportions are physically impossible, with real people who, inevitably, have real proportions. I posed as La Grande Odalisque and Jen posed as La dormeuse de Naples. We had fabric and some props from BHV, copies of the paintings, and Peter’s nice digital camera. Farah was behind the lens and Ashley and I acted as set assistants for Jen’s photo, which we composed first. I’ll just say it was freaking hard to get everything right! The body of La dormeuse is impossibly round, her arms are impossibly positioned, and La dormeuse looks impossibly relaxed. Nonetheless, Jen did an amazing job of posing, Farah flexed her photographic muscles, and Ashley and I held up the red sheet in the background with all of our might.

Next was La Grande Odalisque. The body positioning of this one was relatively easier, although still quite uncomfortable. For the record, I didn’t feel that awkward being unclothed since it was a very artistic and professional production overall. The pictures turned out pretty true to the painting, except with a normally sized back, not the absurdly long back of the woman painted in the original. I’ve included the Odalisque below; I couldn't find Jen's. You can imagine the rest.



The presentation of our project went well. It was a little nerve-wracking to stand in front of the class with a gigantic photo of me in the nude on the projector, but really it wasn’t so bad. I thought all of the photos were extremely tasteful since we had put so much genuine artistic effort into them. A little shock value never hurts, either.

After the presentation, Stanford had arranged a visit to L’Assemblée Nationale. After going through much security and passport viewing, we were finally allowed into the hall to observe the going-ons of the National Assembly, in action. They were discussing a bill to provide government-subsidized housing and the back-and-forth discussion was quite amusing. One side would interrupt the other with peanut gallery-esque remarks, laughter would ensue, more commentary, and then defensive reply. There were even butlers in coat tails who brought beverages and papers to the representatives on demand. The hall was extremely stately and impressive with beautiful marble pillars and gilded carvings. “Liberté, Egalité, Fraternité,” was written on each side of the center wall, with “La République Française” taking center stage. I was impressed and felt moved by the legacy of French politics.

The visit would have been much more enjoyable if the woman in charge of keeping the peace in our section wasn’t such a bitch. I don’t use this term lightly. For example, when Kai stood up (very conscientiously, mind you) too see if there was an open seat below, this woman snapped at her and told her if she wanted to see, she should have sat more toward the front. Which is what Kai was trying to do, but that’s besides the point…Not. Then, when Roberto leaned over to whisper to someone, the evil woman rushed over to reprimand him and consequently created much more noise than there was in the first place. I blew a bubble with my gum unconsciously and the evil woman, where a simple “Please don’t do that,” would suffice, proceeded to fly into a rage, saying it was disgusting, and asking would I do that in class? CRAZY. When there was a short intermission after the housing bill was passed, she went into a tirade saying we were the most inappropriate group she had ever seen and went on to single me out, remarking that “Never in my life have I seen someone blow a bubble here.” Likely story. Anyway, I stormed out with as much spunk as I could muster and I hope she got the message that it was actually SHE who was the most impolite person there. She reprimanded us as though we were two year old who were out of control. She’s on a power trip, if I’ve ever seen one.

Ah. So now I am back home and have ambitious intentions to start some homework. I have another presentation tomorrow for my Health Systems class, and plenty of things due next Tuesday. I still haven’t fully recovered from my illness, but I’m hoping some more rest will have me ready and raring to go this weekend in Paris.

Amsterdam update

It seems I have fallen ill. I have been feeling nauseous since I ate a suspicious tuna sandwich yesterday for lunch. I had trouble sleeping last nigh, and now I have a pounding headache and perhaps a fever. Yuck. And I have to leave for Musée d'Orsay in 20 min to do a presentation for my art history class. I wish I were still in bed! Things have been kind of non-stop for the last few days.

Amsterdam was wonderful. The city was beautiful. I loved its atmosphere; it had a perfect balance of being ridiculously picturesque and being a legitimiate big city. There are tons of museums I want to go back and see, since we only got a few in (although we were quite faithful to our itinerary).



The first day we all arrived at different times. I was the last to get there, and after struggling a bit trying to figure out where to buy a tram ticket and which tram to get on, I made it to our hostel. The hostel was better than the one in Dublin and we weren't with any randos since we (JW, Jen, Michael and I) had a 4-person room to ourselves. After settling in, we left to wander a bit. We made it over to Leidseplein (the happening night-life area), and found an Argentinian grill with a 10 euro tourist special for dinner. It was mediocre. Also, they didn't understand "tap water," so we were forced to purchase expensive bottled water. I must say, however, that the Dutch are fabulous with language in general, and could speak to us in English almost better than we could. Anyway, after dinner none of us had much energy to rally and we went back to the hostel to call it a night.

The next day, Michael, Jen and I went running in Vondelpark, which was close to our hostel. It was a gorgeous day lit by a brilliant sun, and the park was full of runners and surrounded by amazing architecture. Breakfast was at Bagels & Beans, a cafe chain near our hostel that was delicious. I had fresh-squeezed orange juice, coffee, and a toasted ham and cheese bagel. Afterwards, we walked over to the Red Light district. It was bizarre and kind of sad. Only in Amsterdam. After getting some cone fries with spicy mayo from a street vendor, we visited the Rembrandt house. It was a bit cheesy, but interesting nonetheless to see what Rembrandt's domestic life was like, and what his home looked like when he lived there. Plus, free audio-guide!



The rest of the afternoon was spent on a canal tour. We got on a boat and learned some basics of Amsterdam's history, and got to see many of the famous sites from the canals. We spent the rest of the evening at the Van Gogh Museum, which had just opened an exhibit called "The Colors of the Night." Yes, we saw The Starry Night and yes, it was incredible. The whole museum in general is well done, and we looked not only at Van Gogh's work and his influences, but also some Danish graphic prints of which there is a grand collection. The special exhibit featured works from Rembrandt, Millet, and Van Gogh (of course), among many others. Well-curated, well-presented.

Oldest house in Amsterdam

We had an 8pm reservation at Tempoe Doeloe, an Indonesian restaurant recommended to us by Mark, who had a fantastic experience with their rijstafl. We did too. You basically get rice and then about 14 small dishes to eat with the rice, ranging from pickled vegetables to chicken in spicy peanut sauce. It was great! And the flavors were so novel and diverse. Desserts didn't disappoint, either. I had a dessert drink of orange juice with coconut ice cream, star fruit and melon. Yum! The others had equally delicious treats, and Jen and I even got red roses since it was Valentine's Day. The service was great; everyone who worked there was incredibly nice. I'd recommend it if you're heading to Amsterdam!

That night was quite low-key. We went to a café in Leidseplein for a bit before retiring, ready for the next day.

We woke up late the next day. Michael and I went running again in Vondelpark and explored a bit more of the residential area surrounding it. When we finally dragged JW out of bed, we had breakfast again at Bagels & Beans. This time I had an omelet bagel with ham, but the service was quite bad. There was a nice cat that jumped on Jen's lap which made things better. After breakfast we went to the Rijksmuseum, the biggest and most famous museum in Amsterdam. We browsed their collection of Dutch art from the Dutch golden age in the 17th century. Highlights include fabulously ornate and detailed dollhouses, unbelievably beautiful cabinetry, and of course Rembrandt works and beautiful still-lifes.

We walked along the Prinsengracht canal in the light rain to the Anne Frank House, which I visited while the others went to relax at a café. Being inside the Secret Annex was moving and I feel motivated to reread her diary. I will admit that I teared up at times, reading excerpts form her diary and quotes from the people who helped them.

I met up with the others when I had finished to get dinner. We had traditional Dutch food- pancakes! We went to the Carousel Pancake House and had generous portions of scrumptious savory and sweet pancakes. That night, we stopped at a bar recommended in the guidebook called Lux. It was very chicly decorated and has a good atmosphere. We then went to see a movie, Revolutionary Road, at the Leidseplein theater. Acting was superb, writing was great, and it hit very close to home, being about a couple who lives in the NYC 'burbs. It was then especially depressing for me.

Our train left early the next morning, so we went to bed. Of note: Thalys had a promotion and we all rode first class, both ways. I never want to ride anything but first class. It is amazing. You get so much food and service, treats, and pampering. My next goal in life is to fly first class. I bet it would be amazing.

Ok, must head off to Musée d'Orsay. Wish me luck!

French people running and other news

French people running

Most French people I see running are wearing normal running gear. There is a significant proportion, however, that wears clothing not at all suited to athletic activity. Some of my favorite sightings:

• Man wearing striped collared shirt with sweater over, running shorts, sneakers.
• Woman with hair down, wearing leather jacket, running pants, sneakers.
• Old man wearing long overcoat, bowler hat, sweatpants, sneakers.
• Woman wearing furry vest over sweater, sweatpants, sneakers.

Mind you, they are running. I don’t just see them ambling down the street, they’re running (slowly) in Bois de Boulogne. I couldn’t make this stuff up.

Other News

I forgot to say that I went to the Marais on Sunday to meet and have lunch with Michael’s sister who was in town from Liverpool. JW also came. We wanted to go to L’As de Falafel, this famous falafel place in the Marais on rue des Rosiers, but when we got there the entire street was filled with people waiting to order. We decided to go somewhere else, and ended up at the café we went to after the IRCAM concert. We saw the nice waitress we had had, although she didn’t serve us. I got a cheeseburger but I wish I had ordered the full brunch since I was still ravenous after I finished.

In fact, I have determined that I eat approximately 3x the average French woman, and possibly 2x the average French man. My host mother makes plenty of food—if I ate normally. I think I could eat all of the food that is prepared every night.

On Wednesday, I met up with Emilie again. We went to Sainte-Chappelle, a really famous and beautiful church on Ile de la Cité. The stained glass windows were spectacular that covered the walls, all the way to the soaring gothic arched ceiling. I’ve included some pictures. Emilie took some too; photography is one of her hobbies. We got crepes near l’Hôtel de Ville and she gave me a book by her favorite author! I’m still amazed by her thoughtfulness.

Rose window

Taken by Emilie

Wednesday night Mark’s class went to his house for snacks and experimental French cinema. We watched Un Chien Andalou by Luis Bunuel and Salvatore Dali. It was very strange. We also watched music videos by Michel Gondry, including “The Hardest Button to Button” by the White Stripes, and a Chemical Brothers video. I pigged out on junk food, (it was “dinner”), and then a few of us went back to Jen’s house for a sleep over. Total middle school throwback.

Today I took a long nap after getting back from Jen’s. When I finally got moving, I went to Montmartre and did a self-guided walking tour I looked up in my guidebook. It was a pleasant afternoon, although I forgot my gloves and my hands were very cold as a result.

View of Paris from the steps of the Sacre Coeur

Tonight we’re going to the Lido Cabaret! Roberto, one of the program coordinators, has an in and got us discounted tickets. I can’t wait and will certainly report back.

This weekend will be spent in Amsterdam. Jen, JW, Michael and I have an ambitious itinerary and I hope we will get to see it all!

A comment on the weather

The weather has been crazy lately.

On Saturday, I awoke to snow and freezing rain with gusting winds. Good thing I spent half the day underground visiting Les Egouts, the sewers of Paris, and the other half chatting in a chic café next to Pont de l'Alma with JW and Jen.

In ze sewers!!!

Sunday evening it began to rain and this continued until this (Tuesday) evening. This would be normal, except the wind was unbelievable! It was howling away as I was taking midterms and handing in papers and such.

I left ISEP to come home this afternoon. It was raining when I went underground. When I emerged from Metro, the sky was perfectly clear without a single cloud. Freaking tempests.

A cool night picture, mostly irrelevant.

art? music? Fontainebleau

It has been an interesting week.

Tuesday was full of class and such.

Wednesday, we were at the Louvre for Estelle’s class, looking at Gericault and Delacroix, which was a nice change of pace from the inundation of Ingres we’ve been having recently. Afterwards, I met up with Emilie, my host sister from the family I stayed with in the summer of 2004! We hadn’t seen each other or corresponded in years, but I found her on Facebook and we arranged to meet for coffee. It was wonderful to see her and hear about what she’s been doing since I saw her last. When I stayed with her family, she was always so helpful with my French and went out of her way to tutor me and improve both my speaking and writing. We’re going to meet up again next week and hopefully go to some photography exhibitions.

Thursday was the day of Practicum presentations. It was really interesting to see all of the various and creative things people have been working on. (The projects could take pretty much any form, and are supposed to reflect, comment on, interact with, etc. some aspect of your experience in Paris.) I made a “Self-sidewalk,” which consisted of papers I’ve been accumulating in my room that represent parts of my life here—an article Eleanor sent me from the Boston Globe, a document from my French bank account, a handout from Le Mariage de Figaro, an article about Obama from a French paper, and an article my host family saved for my about Bruges and Ghent. Each paper was a paving stone, and on top were Paris sidewalk mainstays: dog poop (sculpted from clay), a cigarette butt, and a discarded metro ticket. I was feeling pretty good about this project, but Mark pretty much ripped it apart in front of the whole class. Not my proudest moment. We talked about my stupid sidewalk for about half and hour, and he asked questions about my reasoning behind every little detail, i.e. why did I place the poop where I did? Why did I choose five papers and not more or less? Why did I leave one paper ragged and not the other? I’m hoping I got the grilling because I was the first to present visual art, but maybe I’m really just a horrible artist with no capability for creativity or artistic thought. It’s kind of what I felt like. Constructive criticism is always good, I just felt the analysis of my project was harsher than that of the others.

Some of the other projects were really great. A few highlights: JW made a giant cigarette butt out of a baguette with acrylic paint and a lighter, Natalia made a moving film about people passing by graffiti that reads “White Power” in Montparnasse Bienvenue without even noticing, and Scott and David sang an epic duet with their guitars about missing the metro.

Ashely, Jen and I had a long and decadent lunch with Mark in the Latin quarter, remplis de bonne conversation, and then made our way over to the Marais. Mark had graciously arranged for our class a private tour of IRCAM, a part of the Centre Pompidou that specializes in sound. There are three branches: pedagogical, where people come in to learn software and technology; creative, where composers come in to use the resources of IRCAM to create music; and research, where engineers are working out the latest audio technology. We got to go into the anechoic chamber (room absolutely free from echo). Supposedly you can hear one high frequency and one low frequency when you’re in there, which are your nervous system and circulatory system, respectively (!). Unfortunately, I didn’t hear it when I went in, but Jen said she heard the high frequency.

The tour was followed by a concert of modern music played by a string quartet. It was interesting at first, since it used play-back technology so we heard both what the musicians were playing real time, and a selection of what they had just played, and the two streams worked off of each other. The second piece was unpalatable, to say the least. The notes played were just continually dissonant and there was no relief from its harshness. The instruments were played well out of their “normal” ranges and the screeching that resulted was not my cup of tea. I don’t know enough about contemporary music to have any authority on this sort of thing, but I can say with confidence that the music played was not something I would want to listen to.

Friday (today), Jen, Ashley, Mackenzie and I went to Fontainebleau to see the chateau and visit the town. After floundering around Gare de Lyon for about 20 minutes, we finally got the group together to go buy tickets for the train out to Zone 6. We made it onto the train and in 40 minutes we were in the quaint Fontainebleau-Avon area. We walked into town where we came upon a farmer’s market that Mackenzie remembered from his youth (he lived in Fontainebleau for two years when his father worked at the nearby university). We browsed a bit, and bought two delicious boxes of fresh raspberries. The town was charming, as one would expect a town in the French countryside to be. Lunch was eaten outside at a café, and we enjoyed the relatively warm temperature.


Next stop was the castle, which housed the kings and emperors of France for 700 years. It was remarkable. First of all, there were peacocks in the garden. We got some pics. Second, the chateau was gigantic and beautiful. Third, there was no one there and it was much more pleasant the hordes of people who flock to Versailles. Fourth, the history of the castle is incredibly rich because so many kings have lived there. It was a really pleasant visit (and we got the audio-guides). On the way back to the train station we stopped at Mackenzie’s favorite patisserie and bought amazing pastries. Amazing. I had a meringue that was huge and delicious for only one euro, Mackenzie and Jen had something called La Religieuse, which is this delectable chocolate/mousse/cream/biscuit concoction, and Ashley had a scrumptious raspberry tart. All in all, a successful outing.




Now it’s off to sing some karaoke!?

Alimentary Pleasures

breakfast: homemade banana/nutella crepe

lunch: quiche lorraine, goat cheese and prosciutto on baguette

dinner: potato/meat dish, salad, cheese, fromage frais, jam crepe

“Plus on est belle, plus on est froide”

The prettier one is, the colder.

I would say that sums up the weekend. I feel like a really accomplished tourist, braving glacial temperatures to see the sites in Lille, Ghent, and Bruges—our trifecta tour of Flanders. It was an extraordinary weekend but I am exhausted now! Nonetheless, I wish to recount the experience whilst it is fresh in my mind.

Before Flanders, there was a week. During this week, I did things of interest. Wednesday (1/28) was the Triptych sensory tour of the Marais as part of the Practicum arts class. Each student in the class received an address to check out and to subsequently make up “facts” about to give a “tour” to the Survey arts class. One of the most interesting assignments I received, it was a little difficult to strike a balance among believable, funny, and ridiculous. My address was 28, rue de Venise, a rather ugly modern building on a miniature street near the Pompidou Center. I made up a story that included 15th century painters, Italian merchants, Wiccan settlements, cabaret assassinations, magical trees, etc. I enjoyed walking through the Marais, which could be one of my favorite quarters in Paris. It has great character, shopping, food, architecture, and vibe. I must go back to explore more.

The real icing on the Wednesday cake was dinner that Mark planned for our class. We went to a restaurant called “Dans Le Noir,” (In the Black), that was exactly as its name sounds. We dined in total darkness. Our servers were blind people who led us to our seats and brought us our food. We had no idea what we were eating. To fill up our glasses we had to stick our finger inside to feel the level of the liquid. I realized how little I actually know how things taste independent from what they look like. For example, I thought the main course was beef, but it was actually duck. Needless to say, it was quite the experience! Bravo to Mark for organizing the whole thing.

On Thursday I got my haircut with Jen. She and my hairdresser ganged up on me the whole time and I was persuaded to cut my hair much shorter and get bangs. So my hair is much shorter and I have bangs. It was a fun little experience; French hairdressers are very different from American ones! I told my coiffeur to keep the length and do a little fringe in the front and he told me that it was absurd for me to pay him 50 euro to do nothing. I told him I wanted a shape to have more volume and he told me he couldn’t change the nature of my hair. He was very candid but charming and did a good job despite my reluctance. I’m not sure I like the cut but it looks kind of French (I think) and my hair is healthier. Voilà.

On Friday, it was off to Lille for the Bing Trip!

The rendezvous was at Gare du Nord directly after Friday morning class, which was joyfully held extra early to accommodate our train. Just after an hour on the TGV we were transported to the north of France in Flanders. Our hotel was beautiful and charming, the oldest hotel in Lille! Farah and I shared a lavender room, a huge step up from our nasty little hostel in Dublin. Lunch was at “Les 3 Brasseurs,” a traditional brasserie. Food was delicious and filling and I ate my share along with whatever the others left on their plates.

We had a walking tour all afternoon with the most horrible guide who talked incessantly about the most useless details. Luckily she didn’t stay with us when we went to Roubaix to see the Museum of Art and Industry, whose façade is an old cotton factory and whose building is a converted public pool and bath. The museum was incredible. The architecture of the pool is all art deco and a masterpiece in itself, and it has been tastefully redone as a museum. Dinner was free and a group of us found a restaurant with a 20 euro formule—much cheaper than Paris! I had frog’s legs (!), steak and mashed potatoes, a cheese plate, and chocolate mousse. Amazing.

The next day was spent in Ghent.

Lille is very close to the Belgian border, so we arrived in Gent quite early. The city is amazing. Flemish architecture will blow your mind. It is mostly gothic and neo-gothic, and it is freaking old! Our guide was thankfully a charming quadralingual man named Luke, who told us many interesting things about buildings and the history of the city in moderation. There are large places in the middle of the city where merchant would come to sell their good, with beautiful buildings all around and belfries and church towers all over the place. Jen, Michael, JW, Thierry and I lunched at a brasserie with questionable medieval murals on the wall à la Red Carpet Inn. Food was great, once it got to our table. Service was despicable and we had to rush back to meet the group on time.

Harp from a church in Ghent

The afternoon was spent touring the Chateau des Comtes (Counts), a medieval castle that has been well restored. The grand conclusion of the tour is that the Middle Ages were retarded. Everything was fashioned as preventative measure of defense, like mini windows to shoot arrows out of, holes in the floor to pour boiling oil onto intruders, etc. Dinner was at an incredibly chic and hip restaurant called Belga Queen with the coolest bathrooms ever. You go into the stall and the door is transparent. You lock the door, and it turns opaque! It’s magic.

The last day was spent in Bruges.

I’m convinced Disney created Bruges sometime in the 20th century to be the quaintest little town there ever was. The place is unreal. It peaked in the Middle Ages, when its population was twice that of its current size! It is called the “Venice of the North,” because there are dozens of charming canals off of the two rivers that traverse the town. The streets are narrow and all cobblestone, and nearly all the buildings are at least two centuries old. Highlights of the day include getting moules frites (mussels and fries) and Italian coffee (coffee and amaretto liqueur), buying amazing chocolates, eating Belgian waffles, and the horse-drawn carriage ride through the northern part of town to the windmill. We also went to an interesting medieval hospital turned museum to see primitive Flemish art.

but…

IT WAS INTOLERABLY COLD. I THOUGHT I WAS GOING TO LOSE MY TOES TO FROSTBITE. LEATHER BOOTS DO NOT SUFFICE IN GLACIAL TEMPERATURES. HATS ARE NECESSARY. YOU WILL DIE IF YOU DON’T HAVE GLOVES. BRUGES IS BEAUTIFUL BUT SHE KNOWS IT AND IS ACCORDINGLY COLD.

We went to city #3 of the day (Lille) to catch the train to city #4 (Paris). Home sweet home. But I couldn’t retire yet for I was going to the Picasso exhibit at two in the morning! Hooray! “Picasso et les Maitres” is the most successful exhibit they’ve had at the Grand Palais for thirty years, and we were going on the last night. They opened it up to be 24 hours a day for the last weekend, and thus we bought tickets for the only available time: 2:00 am. So we took the last metro to the Grand Palais to see said amazing exhibit. Check out the P.A.R.I.S. blog for a more detailed account.

I spent today (Monday) sleeping and puttering around, running errands and such. Jen came over for dinner at my host family’s house to eat crepes, a February tradition. It was wonderful to have her here. Now it is late and I must go to bed! E-mail me what you all are up to. I like e-mails. Letters okay too.