It's the little unexpected meetings in a city that can make for a great day. Today after my first language exam at practicum, I got home and decided to do some laundry. I couldn't wait for MCB (host mother) to teach me how to use her machine, so I decided to use the small laundromat that's just down the street from where I live. I was a little annoyed at the closest Ed supermarket (a great discount place) by the fact that the laundry detergents had funky smells (peach almond??) and that the 'envrionmentally friendly' fabric softeners smelled like failed chemical attempts at what should be natrual. Also, there were absolutley no dryer sheets!
Anyways, I ended up settling on one okay smelling bottle of detergent and then picked up some of my clothes to go do laundry. While at the laundromat, a semi-frazzeled woman came in to put in a load and was asking how to work the machines. I haven't mastered on the fly conversation so I tried to help, but another man was able to explain. She asked if I'd be staying a while, so she could leave her laundry cart. I was, so she left it.
By the time my machine was up I had to get change for the dryer so I stepped out to go grab dinner at a Turkish sandwhich spot across the street. I was eathing my dinner when the woman came back and she again was having some trouble, dropping her clothes on the floor while moving it to the dryer. I told her she should use the laundry basket there and she did, but still was dropping clothes. She kept making conversation with me, which I found odd since supposedly french people don't usually talk to strangers. So I kept along. At some point I told her I wasn't from around here, and she asked if I was Brazilian. The turk had asked if I was Mexican. I explained I was a student from New York studying abroad and she said that she was also in Paris studying--working on her doctorate. Although I was doing fine (I guess) in French, she started talking to me in Engligh. As it turns out, she had done her undergraduate in Paris, some masters work in London, and was originally from Israel.
I told her I had a couple friends studying in Israel and she said that she also lived in Tel Aviv for a while. Apparently Tel Aviv is a great city; not too expesnive for cafés and going out but more expensive than Paris in terms of rent. What she really didn't like though was that Tel Aviv was too small and everyone knows everyone and thus their business. She loves that Paris is cosmopolitain enough (as she put it) to be anonymous yet not too big. We kept talking for a while about what we thought of life in different cities, comparing New York, London, Paris, and Tel Aviv. She was surprised that I thought the French were nicer than New Yorkers, but I meant it in a daily politeness kind of way. New Yorkers are loud and rude--but help you out when you need it--and I miss it. It is true though that it's hard to make first contact with the French, so this was refreshing. We kept talking while folding clothes about equality of opportunity, life in an unknown city, and the burgeiose nature of life in Paris. Apparently London has the big city feel of New York with out the 'froo-froo' of Paris. She hasn't been to the States yet, but would like to.
We parted ways after she was done and with a Shalom said it was nice talking. For those of you wondering: no, she's not young enough to be of any interest for me and no, she's not a hot Israeli soldier babe. Still, it was nice talking to her and its another example of how international (cosmopolitain?) Paris really is. Tonight I'm going out for a friend's birthday to Le Cab. I'd heard of this place and supposedly it's great. Can't get in too late though, since tomorrow is our first day trip to Reims to checkout the cathedral there and some champagne caverns.
Guess it's cabarteting and champagne for now. Hope all's well.
Friday, January 23, 2009
Monday, January 19, 2009
The Sun Also Rises....eventually
First off shout-outs to Dani and Nate for skypeing me; to John, Lenny, Nick, Reb Sals, Elizabeth, and Dominique for reading; and Burn and Mynelly from work for emailing. My family, of course, goes without mentioning. I'm glad you're all keeping in touch. If I missed you, sorry--but thank you all for keeping tabs.
So as some of you may know one of my favorite books (it's a lie I don't ever read much) is The Sun Also Rises by Ernest Hemingway. I first read it in high school and it was one of the first impressions I had of life in Europe, or at least of Americans' lives in Europe, and it helped pique an interest in someday studying abroad in Paris. Well know that I'm here (thanks to so much sacrifice from my family, I really am so damn lucky to be here) I decided to reread the novel and so I bought it at JFK before flying out.
Now I haven't been reading it too much because I'm kind of worried of people spotting the American (Salvadoran en faite) reading on le métro--partly because I know that I consciously take note of who's reading in what language just to see who might be American. I'm getting over that paranoia and since I've continued reading I was blown away to find that the cafés where the characters in the novel hung out are right down the street from Reid Hall, along le Boulevard Montparnasse. Literally off the métro station I get off at to go to school, there are les cafés La Rotonde, Le Select, and Le Dome. This is where Jake Barnes witnessed Robert Cohn being humiliated by his mistress (?) Frances. I've only finished Book I and don't remember too much detail--I know the story moves later on to Spain. Maybe I'll visit. Now I'm not that literary at all, but I figured I should read something of personal interest while away....maybe I'll keep that habit.
Anyways, today we started our French Practicum course at Reid Hall and it was not all that intense. Still it's only the first class, I'm sure it will get more intense in the coming 3 weeks. I also was expecting to start a course at Paris VII called Paris à l'Époque Contemporaire, which will also compare Paris to the fellow European capitals of London and Berlin. I was told Paris VII classes were starting today and after a little trouble finding the right métro stop to take to get there, I made it to Le Centre Tolbiac where the class is held. Now the thing you should know about the French unviersity system (well there's plenty more differences to know but this is one) is that the campuses are spread throughout the city, some even outside of Paris. We're not just talking à la NYU style, I mean really spread out throughout the city. Luckily this one isn't too far from Reid Hall. The center was very different from what I'm used to at Columbia's campus. I took an escalator off the street up onto a plaza surrouned by towers, and what seemed to be residential apartments. There were only a few college aged people on the plaza, which also had closed restaurant stands. It was all very windy and I had to ask where the place I was going was exactly.
To not drag it out, I ended up finding the supposed classroom at 2:30 half an hour late--there was no one there. I found a group of students speaking English who were looking at a posting of class schedules. They were actually in the class I was looking for (and from another Reid Hall program) and they said that the class didn't start till next week. Also, the professors may or may not be going on strike. We'll see what happens with that.
Aside from school, this weekend a bunch of us went out to bars in the area. Actually, we stuck at one bar called The Hideout which is actually pretty nice. There are a bunch of international students and I loved the fact that I heard Spanish, English, and French being spoken...and others I had no idea what they were. One night La Camisa Negra by Juanes was playing. Love it. Also something great when we went out was this random street show of two dancers, one black one white. They were great at intereacting with the crowd going so far as to dance right up on people in the crowd. One of them even called me out at the introduction of their show for having my arms crossed. I put them in my pocket, and one man said not to do that either. The other said it'd be okay to stick my hands in my pants though. The best part was by far when they played Besame by Elvis Crespo. I don't know if it's because I didn't pay attention much in NYC, but I do feel Paris is way more international.
During the weekend I also don't get cooked dinner from my host mother a.k.a. Marie-Chirstine or MCB as she goes by. I guess Columbia has it right on when they say the program is meant to help you "grow up" or become more independent. Not having someone to cook for you, knowing how to cook yourself, or knowing where the cheap spots to buy food are can definitely have that affect on you.
Mike and I went out to dinner twice this weekend. One night I was in the mood for Chinese so we decided to venture to Paris' Chinatown. Now let me just say, it ain't got nothing on NYC's Chinatown. Yes there were plenty of signs in Chinese and even a "market" (neatly tucked away out of sight and in some kind of warehouse off the street), but it was nothing compared to the crazy street markets of Chinatown in NYC. Even Boston's Chinatown has at least the gate to mark where it begins--but the food I had there sucked! The place we decided to eat was a sit-down place and wasn't bad at all, but the portions were French sized. I just want to find a good hole-in-the-wall take out joint. Damn I miss Empire.
Another night Mike chose the place and this time it was Italien, up by Montmartre. (That's where Sacré Coeur is, a basilica on the highest point in Paris--I think. Great views.) The place was easy to find and it had a good bunch there, but not too full. The prices were great and I ordered the Penne Carbonara which had a creamy sauce and most importantly bits of pork. Some of the best pasta I've ever had. Now what I took out of these two dining experiences was more than just the food itself, but the cultural mindfuck that goes on at these restaurants. I used to like to think of myself as a pretty cultured person, at least in terms of me being of a different cultural background. In fact, it's not until having come to Paris that I can even begin to imagine what it is to have a real cultural exchange. I have so much more appreciation and respect for any international student. To think that here I am in Chinatown Paris, looking at a menu in Cantonese and French ordering from a waiter who barely speaks French also, all while thinking in English.
That was (or is) after all the 2nd major goal of this semester. Coming from a family of immigrants I saw, but didn't experience, the difficulty of navigating a different culture. This is of course not the same thing my family went through, much respect to anyone who has the balls to travel to unknown lands (excuse the cheesiness). Still I am beginning to understand so much more. Even in my case though you have the problem of 1st generation immigrants, caught in between languages and cultures. I came to realize that problem a lot last semetser, and this semester is helping me sort that.
Anyways, there's a bunch more I'd like to say but it's getting late and I do have homework to do. Hope these posts aren't too long to read. Hope to hear from you.
Au revoir
P.S. - since I still have some cheesiness in mind, I'd just like to note that I find it weird to be doing this blog stuff. Some of you know and I at times do say as we do in Spanish, que no me gusta "volarme." In other words, I usually don't like talking about myself or what I'm up to, to avoid sounding like I'm bragging. I like sharing this though, since despite the great time I'm having here I really do miss you all.
So as some of you may know one of my favorite books (it's a lie I don't ever read much) is The Sun Also Rises by Ernest Hemingway. I first read it in high school and it was one of the first impressions I had of life in Europe, or at least of Americans' lives in Europe, and it helped pique an interest in someday studying abroad in Paris. Well know that I'm here (thanks to so much sacrifice from my family, I really am so damn lucky to be here) I decided to reread the novel and so I bought it at JFK before flying out.
Now I haven't been reading it too much because I'm kind of worried of people spotting the American (Salvadoran en faite) reading on le métro--partly because I know that I consciously take note of who's reading in what language just to see who might be American. I'm getting over that paranoia and since I've continued reading I was blown away to find that the cafés where the characters in the novel hung out are right down the street from Reid Hall, along le Boulevard Montparnasse. Literally off the métro station I get off at to go to school, there are les cafés La Rotonde, Le Select, and Le Dome. This is where Jake Barnes witnessed Robert Cohn being humiliated by his mistress (?) Frances. I've only finished Book I and don't remember too much detail--I know the story moves later on to Spain. Maybe I'll visit. Now I'm not that literary at all, but I figured I should read something of personal interest while away....maybe I'll keep that habit.
To not drag it out, I ended up finding the supposed classroom at 2:30 half an hour late--there was no one there. I found a group of students speaking English who were looking at a posting of class schedules. They were actually in the class I was looking for (and from another Reid Hall program) and they said that the class didn't start till next week. Also, the professors may or may not be going on strike. We'll see what happens with that.
Aside from school, this weekend a bunch of us went out to bars in the area. Actually, we stuck at one bar called The Hideout which is actually pretty nice. There are a bunch of international students and I loved the fact that I heard Spanish, English, and French being spoken...and others I had no idea what they were. One night La Camisa Negra by Juanes was playing. Love it. Also something great when we went out was this random street show of two dancers, one black one white. They were great at intereacting with the crowd going so far as to dance right up on people in the crowd. One of them even called me out at the introduction of their show for having my arms crossed. I put them in my pocket, and one man said not to do that either. The other said it'd be okay to stick my hands in my pants though. The best part was by far when they played Besame by Elvis Crespo. I don't know if it's because I didn't pay attention much in NYC, but I do feel Paris is way more international.
During the weekend I also don't get cooked dinner from my host mother a.k.a. Marie-Chirstine or MCB as she goes by. I guess Columbia has it right on when they say the program is meant to help you "grow up" or become more independent. Not having someone to cook for you, knowing how to cook yourself, or knowing where the cheap spots to buy food are can definitely have that affect on you.
Mike and I went out to dinner twice this weekend. One night I was in the mood for Chinese so we decided to venture to Paris' Chinatown. Now let me just say, it ain't got nothing on NYC's Chinatown. Yes there were plenty of signs in Chinese and even a "market" (neatly tucked away out of sight and in some kind of warehouse off the street), but it was nothing compared to the crazy street markets of Chinatown in NYC. Even Boston's Chinatown has at least the gate to mark where it begins--but the food I had there sucked! The place we decided to eat was a sit-down place and wasn't bad at all, but the portions were French sized. I just want to find a good hole-in-the-wall take out joint. Damn I miss Empire.
Another night Mike chose the place and this time it was Italien, up by Montmartre. (That's where Sacré Coeur is, a basilica on the highest point in Paris--I think. Great views.) The place was easy to find and it had a good bunch there, but not too full. The prices were great and I ordered the Penne Carbonara which had a creamy sauce and most importantly bits of pork. Some of the best pasta I've ever had. Now what I took out of these two dining experiences was more than just the food itself, but the cultural mindfuck that goes on at these restaurants. I used to like to think of myself as a pretty cultured person, at least in terms of me being of a different cultural background. In fact, it's not until having come to Paris that I can even begin to imagine what it is to have a real cultural exchange. I have so much more appreciation and respect for any international student. To think that here I am in Chinatown Paris, looking at a menu in Cantonese and French ordering from a waiter who barely speaks French also, all while thinking in English.
That was (or is) after all the 2nd major goal of this semester. Coming from a family of immigrants I saw, but didn't experience, the difficulty of navigating a different culture. This is of course not the same thing my family went through, much respect to anyone who has the balls to travel to unknown lands (excuse the cheesiness). Still I am beginning to understand so much more. Even in my case though you have the problem of 1st generation immigrants, caught in between languages and cultures. I came to realize that problem a lot last semetser, and this semester is helping me sort that.
Anyways, there's a bunch more I'd like to say but it's getting late and I do have homework to do. Hope these posts aren't too long to read. Hope to hear from you.
Au revoir
P.S. - since I still have some cheesiness in mind, I'd just like to note that I find it weird to be doing this blog stuff. Some of you know and I at times do say as we do in Spanish, que no me gusta "volarme." In other words, I usually don't like talking about myself or what I'm up to, to avoid sounding like I'm bragging. I like sharing this though, since despite the great time I'm having here I really do miss you all.
Friday, January 16, 2009
bahh....et alors?
So the French say "baahhh" a lot. It's like "ummm" or "errrr" --space filler words. This is what you can't be taught in school. Anyways, I'm very nearly done with orientation and after a whirlwind week of site visits in Paris, next week will see the beginning of the language practicum.
I didn't know it would be 3 hours long....every day!
Whatever, it'll be done in three weeks. University classes have various start times, one of which is also next week so I need to get on that. Apparently the French university system is really different from the American, in that lecture classes really have no discussion whatsoever, and even though the grade scale is out of 20, no one gets 20; "Vingt c'est pour Dieu, dix-neuf c'est pour le roi." Even 16 is reserved for the brainiacs. Also, the first year of classes is intended to weed out and discourage those students that just won't cut it, so we will all be taking 2nd and 3rd year courses. We'll see how they turn out.
So out of the various sites visited in our 'vie politique' group, the best one was by far l'Hôtel de Ville which is really where the mayor of Paris works out of. It's one of the most beautiful buildings in Paris and it even sparkles at night. I'll eventually get around to posting some pictures of it. Paris is broken up into 20 districts called arrondissements, each with its own mayor, but this was the site of the mayor of all of Paris. We also went to check out the honorable French deceased at le Panthéon, it was cold. That day we had a great lunch paid for by Columbia in a small brasserie somewhere in the left bank. It was really a great time and even though at times I felt like our group was a typical group of loud Americans, it was okay because we are. I feel the French tend to be too soft spoken, but maybe that's just because I haven't been here for too long.
The next day we went to l'Assemblé Nationale which is equivalent to the House of Representatives. We got to witness a rather pointless (traditional) ceremony for the entrance of the presiding deputée, la Vice-Presidente, that consisted of her walking into the chamber flanked by two lines of military guardsmen holding their swords over her, all to the drumming of two soldiers. It was so odd that just before that she had come out and made a beeline straight to where I was standing to introduce herself. I of course had no idea she was what all the fanfare was for. That day l'Assemblé was discussing some pretty funny stuff, a new law on amendments. Similarly to how the good ol' Senate likes to filibuster, les deputés in France block bills by proposing thousands of amendments to them, each of which must be debated and voted upon. Of course the day we visited (which I believe was the 4th day of debate) l'Assemblé had only reached the end of the amendments to Article I of the proposed law, somewhere around the 1,040s. They then started reviewing the amendments for Article II of the bill. I don't know how many articles there are to the bill, but they are expected to be on this bill for the next couple of weeks, working as late as 2 a.m.
The chamber itself is a lot smaller than the House of Representatives', although the process to get in is a lot faster and less traumatic. Still no photos were allowed. One thing that struck me is that les deputés are free to order coffee and cokes while in session. That and they also speak directly to each other and not to the Speaker, which should allow for great arguments but they were understandably less animated.
As for other doings, my home stay is going very well. I found a porcelain angel in the galette we've been having for dessert, which supposedly means I'll become king. We'll see about that too. It's a little weird being in somebody else's house, especially when it's only a 2o year old college student and a 60 year old lady in the house, but I'm getting used to it. I've heard bad stories form other students in the program--no hot water, no heat, outside of Paris, etc.--so I guess I'm not too bad off.
Throughout the week I went to see a few more sites with other kids on the program. Sacré Couer has the best view of the city and there's a great little village just behind it with shops and cafés. At the Eiffel Tower it was interesting to see how local street vendors would all run away (something like 20+ in all) when cops would be near. They usually ran well before any cops were in sight, which made me think they must have lookouts. They did and Mike (a dude from Tufts also at Reid Hall) pointed out that the look outs were little old ladies stationed around the Eiffel Tower. The street vendors sell little Eiffel Towers and keychains and most of them are Muslim. We saw this system work about 3 times, but when we were leaving one of the guys, a young Muslim, got caught by police on bikes. Soon after that a parade of police vans drove around the area à la NYPD style. I guess a good power-showing seems effective to the French also, but I'm still not convinced.
Anyways, the weekend is upon us and I hope to be checking out night life a little more closely. There's a bunch more I've seen but too tired to talk about it now. I won't party too hardy...mostly because of the damn Euro!! No worries though, I'm keeping it all safe.
I didn't know it would be 3 hours long....every day!
Whatever, it'll be done in three weeks. University classes have various start times, one of which is also next week so I need to get on that. Apparently the French university system is really different from the American, in that lecture classes really have no discussion whatsoever, and even though the grade scale is out of 20, no one gets 20; "Vingt c'est pour Dieu, dix-neuf c'est pour le roi." Even 16 is reserved for the brainiacs. Also, the first year of classes is intended to weed out and discourage those students that just won't cut it, so we will all be taking 2nd and 3rd year courses. We'll see how they turn out.
So out of the various sites visited in our 'vie politique' group, the best one was by far l'Hôtel de Ville which is really where the mayor of Paris works out of. It's one of the most beautiful buildings in Paris and it even sparkles at night. I'll eventually get around to posting some pictures of it. Paris is broken up into 20 districts called arrondissements, each with its own mayor, but this was the site of the mayor of all of Paris. We also went to check out the honorable French deceased at le Panthéon, it was cold. That day we had a great lunch paid for by Columbia in a small brasserie somewhere in the left bank. It was really a great time and even though at times I felt like our group was a typical group of loud Americans, it was okay because we are. I feel the French tend to be too soft spoken, but maybe that's just because I haven't been here for too long.The next day we went to l'Assemblé Nationale which is equivalent to the House of Representatives. We got to witness a rather pointless (traditional) ceremony for the entrance of the presiding deputée, la Vice-Presidente, that consisted of her walking into the chamber flanked by two lines of military guardsmen holding their swords over her, all to the drumming of two soldiers. It was so odd that just before that she had come out and made a beeline straight to where I was standing to introduce herself. I of course had no idea she was what all the fanfare was for. That day l'Assemblé was discussing some pretty funny stuff, a new law on amendments. Similarly to how the good ol' Senate likes to filibuster, les deputés in France block bills by proposing thousands of amendments to them, each of which must be debated and voted upon. Of course the day we visited (which I believe was the 4th day of debate) l'Assemblé had only reached the end of the amendments to Article I of the proposed law, somewhere around the 1,040s. They then started reviewing the amendments for Article II of the bill. I don't know how many articles there are to the bill, but they are expected to be on this bill for the next couple of weeks, working as late as 2 a.m.
The chamber itself is a lot smaller than the House of Representatives', although the process to get in is a lot faster and less traumatic. Still no photos were allowed. One thing that struck me is that les deputés are free to order coffee and cokes while in session. That and they also speak directly to each other and not to the Speaker, which should allow for great arguments but they were understandably less animated.
As for other doings, my home stay is going very well. I found a porcelain angel in the galette we've been having for dessert, which supposedly means I'll become king. We'll see about that too. It's a little weird being in somebody else's house, especially when it's only a 2o year old college student and a 60 year old lady in the house, but I'm getting used to it. I've heard bad stories form other students in the program--no hot water, no heat, outside of Paris, etc.--so I guess I'm not too bad off.
Throughout the week I went to see a few more sites with other kids on the program. Sacré Couer has the best view of the city and there's a great little village just behind it with shops and cafés. At the Eiffel Tower it was interesting to see how local street vendors would all run away (something like 20+ in all) when cops would be near. They usually ran well before any cops were in sight, which made me think they must have lookouts. They did and Mike (a dude from Tufts also at Reid Hall) pointed out that the look outs were little old ladies stationed around the Eiffel Tower. The street vendors sell little Eiffel Towers and keychains and most of them are Muslim. We saw this system work about 3 times, but when we were leaving one of the guys, a young Muslim, got caught by police on bikes. Soon after that a parade of police vans drove around the area à la NYPD style. I guess a good power-showing seems effective to the French also, but I'm still not convinced.
Anyways, the weekend is upon us and I hope to be checking out night life a little more closely. There's a bunch more I've seen but too tired to talk about it now. I won't party too hardy...mostly because of the damn Euro!! No worries though, I'm keeping it all safe.
Monday, January 12, 2009
Orientation Day 1
So today we started our orientation at Reid Hall. After not being able to sleep for much of the night, since I had slept till so late on Sunday recovering from the flight here, I woke up early since I expected a long commute to Reid Hall. It actually only took 30 minutes and le métro was pretty much empty--not like the rush hour sardine cans I was used to in NY. One difference is that you have to unlatch the train doors to get in and out, which I thankfully figured out early on. Transfers are crazier here in the sense that they can be like mazes and the passageways aren't as spacious as in NY, but it's all clearly marked.
Orientation itself was fine, I got to see people from school and a bunch of new faces. After that a couple friends and I walked around the neighborhood and saw les Jardins de Luxembourg, which were closed. Then we went to a café near St. Germain des Prés, which is where I've also found a Spanish mass to check out, and I had un chocolat chaud. The cathedral was nice; quiet and dark and ancient. A friend and I decided to keep exploring the city and we walked to the Seine were we saw the famous moonlit water and we crossed the river on le Pont Neuf and we then went on to l'île de la Cité, home of Notre Dame. There was a mass going on and it was amazing that despite that the cathedral was still open to tourists. It was really amazing, especially with the choir singing in French. I'll be sure to go back to it and take better pictures since my camera battery died. We then continued on to the small village like streets of l'île St. Louis and we crossed back to the right bank to make our way to the Bastille métro station to head home.
Tomorrow we have our first exam--another language placement test--and we start nos parcour de Paris; trips around the city to show us the Parisian life--I'm in the vie politique group. I'll be sure to take more and better pictures. That's it for now I guess.
Bonsoir
Sunday, January 11, 2009
Surrounded by Mansard Rooves
So I'm finally here. Never having really traveled before I'm completely new to this blogging thing, but I think it'll be useful to stay in touch for the next 6 months. 6 Months!! I can't believe I'll be away from home for an entire 6 months but it will be great. As some of you know this is only my second time taking a real trip and it will be one hell of a trip.
My first glimpse of France came during the connecting flight from London (which was delayed because of London fog) when Dayana pointed out the snowy farm lands we were flying over. Once we landed I was too tired to be excited since I hadn't slept much since leaving New York. Of course one of the first things I saw was a bum outside the airport who must have been on something, yes even before a Parisian. The van ride to my host home took longer than expected because of a manif (protest) about the war in Gaza. I didn't see much of a protest though, only closed streets and Paris cops directing traffic. I did get to see the Eiffel Tour though--it's bigger than I thought. I'll check it out for real soon.
My host home is on one of the narrowest streets I've ever been on, I have no idea how the driver managed to get though it without hitting a parked car. My room is on the top floor and has a big french window with a view of a bunch of mansard rooves, hence the name of the blog. It's great since it's on the side the sun rises--the best alarm clock. My host mother gave me a tour of the neighborhood and we went to go buy meat at a small local shop. Walking around the neighborhood she stopped when she saw a Christmas tree; she wanted the base it was on. It was a small real tree with an attached wooden base which was really only another piece of wood. She started banging it against the base against the curb hanging on to the tree itself to try to break it off...pretty random. We couldn't get it off, so we left the tree behind. We went back home for dinner and then went to go see Burn After Reading which was subtitled in French. Besides that I haven't seen much of Paris since I caught up on sleep most of my second day.
Tomorrow I start Reid Hall and get to meet the rest of the kids on the program, and I get to try out le métro. We'll see how it stacks up to NYC's subways. That's all for now.
À bientôt
My first glimpse of France came during the connecting flight from London (which was delayed because of London fog) when Dayana pointed out the snowy farm lands we were flying over. Once we landed I was too tired to be excited since I hadn't slept much since leaving New York. Of course one of the first things I saw was a bum outside the airport who must have been on something, yes even before a Parisian. The van ride to my host home took longer than expected because of a manif (protest) about the war in Gaza. I didn't see much of a protest though, only closed streets and Paris cops directing traffic. I did get to see the Eiffel Tour though--it's bigger than I thought. I'll check it out for real soon.
My host home is on one of the narrowest streets I've ever been on, I have no idea how the driver managed to get though it without hitting a parked car. My room is on the top floor and has a big french window with a view of a bunch of mansard rooves, hence the name of the blog. It's great since it's on the side the sun rises--the best alarm clock. My host mother gave me a tour of the neighborhood and we went to go buy meat at a small local shop. Walking around the neighborhood she stopped when she saw a Christmas tree; she wanted the base it was on. It was a small real tree with an attached wooden base which was really only another piece of wood. She started banging it against the base against the curb hanging on to the tree itself to try to break it off...pretty random. We couldn't get it off, so we left the tree behind. We went back home for dinner and then went to go see Burn After Reading which was subtitled in French. Besides that I haven't seen much of Paris since I caught up on sleep most of my second day.
Tomorrow I start Reid Hall and get to meet the rest of the kids on the program, and I get to try out le métro. We'll see how it stacks up to NYC's subways. That's all for now.
À bientôt
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