Protests, English, Gardens.

Ah!  Another week has FLOWN by!  I have a feeling many posts will begin like this...


A bit about my university.  
I will be attending The University of Paris III, otherwise known as the "New Sorbonne".  The "Sorbonne" you always hear about is actually now called Paris IV.  The University of Paris was restructured after the events of May 1968, when 11 million French workers went on strike for about two weeks.  Charles de Gaulle, President at the time, went into hiding in Germany, surfacing only to publicly dismiss the National Assembly.  Students and workers alike revolted against an increasingly consumerist society and the "bourgeois" National Assembly; growing unrest from previous months snowballed into "the largest general strike that ever stopped the economy of an advanced industrial country" and the first ever "wildcat general strike".   
The strike is directly traced to a student protest held in late March of 68 at the University of Paris at Nanterre (now Paris X, west of the city) where students held a peaceful meeting to discuss  "class discrimination in French society and the political bureaucracy that controlled the school's funding."  Police surrounded the school, and the students posted their complaints before leaving.  However, confrontations at Nanterre escalated, and the University was shut down on May 2.  The next day, students met at the Sorbonne to protest Nanterre's closure and the threatened expulsion of students who had participated in the meetings.  The Sorbonne, in turn, was shut down.  When it reopened, students occupied it, declaring it a "People's University".  By then, many other schools and factories throughout France were occupied; by May 28th, two-thirds of the French work force was involved and the country had come to a standstill.  Finally, Charles de Gaulle made a radio announcement at the end of June (the National television service was also on strike), dissolving the National Assembly and calling for re-elections one month later, and ordering strikers to return to work. 
Although the strike is considered to have been a political failure (de Gaulle was reelected shortly after), it is cited as a turning point for French society, when a conservative moral ideal (religion, patriotism, respect for authority) shifted to a more liberal one (equality, sexual liberation, human rights).  Ah, the basis of so many French stereotypes is revealed!
The students in particular were sick of the stuffy and pedantic teachings of the high-school and University system, which, from what I know, hasn't experienced a complete turn-around.  Their sentiments are best-expressed through the graffiti painted during the revolt:
"Live without dead time."
"Boredom is counterrevolutionary."
"In a society that has abolished every kind of adventure the only adventure that remains is to abolish the society."


Hmm. I should remember some of those for the future.  
Anyway, the Sorbonne Nouvelle is supposed to be a less-traditional, more relaxed/humane, and generally friendlier approach to learning.  I think the main thing it's known for today, however, is the hideous buildings.  

This first semester, I'm planning to take two Italian courses here, while my two French courses will be taught through the MICEFA.  Students are expected to have read all material for the French lit. courses before class starts, and while most university students read Molière in high school, it's not realistic for me to get through 5 to 10 works of French literature in the next 2 weeks.

Classes start October 12th.  I'll keep you posted!

(Many thanks to this wikipedia article for much of the info above and for all quotations.)

***Concerning the "info" above -- I've been humbled in the form of an email from a fellow American who probably knows more about France than many French people:

"The wikipedia article on the "events" of 1968 is a bit of Dada fiction, an example of why you can use Wikipedia but should not trust it.  I I'll bet the French language version is very, very different.    All the "facts" at the top of the article are drawn from a very small, short-lived anarchic journal with little influence, the  "Situationist International" .  Follow the link; the Wikipedia article on SI is fairly accurate.  The student-led demonstrations were a real disaster for the left; the public, including the working class public, was disgusted, so  De Gaulle called an election and won big.  Check out the local libraries and bookstores for a book in French that gives the real story (good reading practice too), or, better, ask the family you are staying with what they remember.  Just like the death of Diane was greeted by the average Parisian with at first sympathy then: "Idiots! 200 km/hr on the Quai?  Thank god she only killed herself!", the student revolt was at first greeted with some sympathy then with:  "those fools just cut down all the trees on the Blvd. St. Michel to make barricades!".   You can see all the new trees... only 40 years old now.  There was apparently one tree  by the southeast corner of the Luxemburg Garden the students didn't dare cut down... it was filled with bullets from the August, 1944 revolt- the real revolt.  The tree looked old and sick when it was pointed out to me years ago and it may be gone now (I don't remember seeing it recently).  But the last building in the park before the southeast corner still has the gouges  where the Free French militia  machine gun bullets splattered while they were trying to dig out the last of the German snipers hiding inside.   It's the only place in Paris I know of  which still shows war damage."

I recently read some study which found that an outrageous number of students are getting information for research papers from Wikipedia.  I scoffed at the idea and now I feel silly!  That being said, I definitely would have fact-checked before I submitted anything like this in a class...but I probably should have fact-checked before spreading some bad information to my *hundreds* of readers!  Anyway, it's a rather romantic story, and does have some basis in truth.  Thanks for the info, Dave!  Some day when I am feeling particularly curious I will check out some more (french) sources on this.

Moving on...

My "intensive" French course is finally over, and I can't say I'm the least bit depressed.  Apparently our professor is about to retire - this might have been her last class ever - and it seemed as if she was already retired.  She didn't prepare nearly enough material to occupy 3 hours of class time 5 days a week (for a total of 45 hours in class), so we spent about 75% of the time listening to her ramble.  I spoke my mind in the class evaluation, which I wrote before I heard that she was retiring, so I kind of hope she didn't read it.  I thought I might be saving future students from hours of idling.

My exploration this week was once-again shopping-minded, although I basically just use that as an excuse to go to different neighborhoods.  No purchases (although I do see a loofa and a lip balm refill on the horizon), but I can tell you where to find a 68 euro pair of socks.  But they're from Japan!  Totally worth it.

Let's just say, "Bon Marché" which is French for a good deal, is soooo NOT a bon marché for those of us without a 6-digit checking account balance.

It was a gorgeous weekend in Paris; many are claiming that this was the last sunny weekend, but I refuse to believe it.  I hear it's been raining a lot in Texas; can't say I'm sad that the sun decided to pay us an extended visit before peacing out for a few months.

I spent most of Saturday helping at an English workshop for students of ParisTech, a local engineering school.  I was lucky to get assigned to the group which visited the Rodin Museum, which (as Colleen predicted) is definitely one of my favorite spots in Paris.  I'll be going back, and I can only hope for a day as gorgeous as this:

It was a pretty interesting visit.  We arrived around 9:30, right when the museum opened, and took a look around at the sculptures in the large garden.  The group leader, an english teacher from ParisTech, is also a sculptor, so we learned some very interesting stuff about the way sculptures are made, etc.  When tourists/visitors started to show up, we split into 2 groups, with one video camera in each, to interview anyone who would speak to us in English.  Unfortunately, the only Americans we met were decidedly unfriendly and said they didn't have time.  (Then again, I'm not sure what I would have done.  I have been surveyed about the death penalty on camera at UT, though!)  Nearly everyone else we met acquiesced, so we ended up with about 10 minutes of video to show the rest of the students in the workshop once we got back to the school.  We asked the visitors at the garden to describe their home countries without giving the name; so we made a little quiz for the other students.  An englishman lamented his country's loss of influence in world affairs while praising it's liberalism, a spaniard spoke of sunny skies and afternoon siestas, a woman from Finland pointed out her country's "perfect" summers, while a couple from Israel said the 3 most prominent characteristics of their country are religion, sun, and food.

I really liked the students in my group: two Italians, a Moroccan, a guy from Lebanon, another from Peru, and one Frenchy (named Wladimir, yes with a W!).  It felt awesome to help them with their language acquisition, although by the end of the day I couldn't help speaking a little Italian with Francesco and Armand.  Once we got back to the school, lots of students wanted to get my contact information so they could continue to speak to me...in English.  I guess they didn't really think about the fact that I probably didn't come to France to speak English!  It really seems like everyone here is learning or knows English, which is awesome and comforting, but frustrating a lot of the time.   I'm very glad English is my first language, but I'm ready to acquire a second (and a third!).

After going out with Claire, Sarah, and a new french friend on Saturday night, I headed home around 12:30 AM, so tired from a long week (and being sick) that I seriously thought my feet would give out at any moment.  2 Metro transfers, with their abundance of stairs, loomed before me as I headed into Montparnasse/Bienvenue station.  I rested my head against the train window and closed my eyes, but somehow didn't miss any stops and finally conquered all 5 flights of stairs in my building.  It was another night to fall into bed.  But as I stepped onto the landing, I heard voices behind my door.  My host-family, awake at 1 AM?

Yep; it was party time in the french house!  "Voilà" Laurence said as I closed the door.  I was then introduced to Laurence's best friend, Marie, and her husband, Pierre, who sported a Yankees jersey and, as official party DJ, blasted american songs that were popular a couple years ago.   Marie and Pierre have 3 sons, the eldest of which is Camille's best friend.  Everyone plays softball.  In fact, Marie and Laurence asked me about joining their informal league which meets on Tuesday nights.  Sometime in the next few days I'll figure out if this was alcohol-inspired eagerness or if the invitation is actually open.  Maurice, Laurence's "petit ami" (boyfriend) offered me a shot of "aged rum".  Thankfully, I asked how I should drink it (as in, down it or sip it).  "Doucement!!!" he cried.  "C'est fort!"

I'm pretty sure it was the most potent and bitter drink on the planet.  It did nothing, of course, for my aching throat, but I did manage to inspire a hearty laugh from Maurice as I coughed down the first sip.

For maybe the second time, I felt like a true part of the family, surrounded by four inebriated adults, alternating wine rum and espresso, cracking up at Pierre's imitation of the Quebec french accent, debating the sexual orientation of one of Laurence's previous exchange students.  Marie and Pierre told me about an Italian family they think I should meet.  Sounds good to me!  I am already looking forward to Laurence's birthday party, which is next Saturday.  She's going to be in Washington D.C. this week, looking after some art from her museum here, so Camille and I might be left in charge of the cake. As Maurice told me, this is a pretty dangerous responsibility!

That brings us to today, or rather yesterday, since blog-writing has taken me into the early hours of next week.

Anja and I took part in the "garden party" happening throughout and around Paris this weekend, an annual festival in which nearly all city gardens and parks offer special activities.  Overwhelmed, as usual, with possibilities, I picked 5 closely-located "exceptional openings," religious gardens (attached to convents, etc) which are usually closed to the public.  Although most were nothing spectacular, I was happy just to be out in the sun, "profiting from it" as the french say, and speaking french with Anja, which is great practice for both of us (her french is already really good, though).  My favorite garden belonged to a convent in the 5th arrondissment:

Despite the way they are stereotyped, and also despite the cultural revolution of the late 60s, France can also be considered a Catholic country; 90% of the population is Catholic, although it is estimated that only about 10% of Parisians and 15% of French citizens in general attend mass regularly.  Still, I've read that many French families continue to participate in the major rites, such as baptism and first communion, occasions which they perhaps consider more social than religious.  Still, it was interesting to see some of the religious life in Paris.

Afterwards, we went to what might be my favorite restaurant in Paris (not that I have a lot to compare it to...).  It's a place near her house that's apparently always packed, with FRENCH people, and I can understand why.  I got a huge salad, the "Tandoori", with a salad mix, tandoori chicken, flat fry-like potatoes, cubes of apple, and onions.  Sounds strange, was amazing.

Again, here is the public link to my facebook photo album dedicated to September in Paris. Click to the last couple pages to see this week's pictures- my favorites are the Notre Dame at night.

This is my last week before MICEFA classes start, although that only means 2.5 hours of class on Monday since my other MICEFA course (and my Paris III courses) wont start til the week of the 12th.

I want to take advantage of the time off to venture outside Paris, so look out for blog-posts featuring Versailles, Chartres, Giverny, Lyon, and/or Toulouse!

Until next week,

Alina :)

PS.  If anyone wants to spend 32 euros on the most gorgeous pair of leggings, let me know.  Otherwise I may be giving myself an early christmas gift.  Who cares if it's not a bon marché?

Movies, Museums, Moulin Rouge...Baseball.

Get ready for another monster blog post!  I have found that there is no time for homework or sleep in Paris.  In this episode:  The Moulin Rouge, French baseball, and a boat party on the Seine, among other activities!  Read on, svp!

Last week went pretty quickly, between my French course, homework for said course, continuing organization of my life here (read: at least two trips to the bank, purchase and subsequent return of an unneeded electrical device, tights shopping.  They are a necessity.), and outside activities.

On Tuesday MICEFA organized a trip to the Carnavalet Museum, set in the former home of Madame de Sévingé dedicated to the history of Paris.  Although our tour-guide was very knowledgeable and well-meaning, I would have strongly preferred to explore the museum alone rather than follow her around for what began to seem like hours (and probably was about 1.5), stopping for up to 20 minutes in some rooms.  We learned some interesting tidbits, such as how long Paris went without sewers/running water, and how much trouble high-society Parisians went to in order to keep up with the Joneses (although in this case, perhaps the Sévignés were the Joneses).  I plan to go back, especially since the museum is free, to spend more time in the garden and looking at more of the art/history.

Directly before that, our professor led my class on a "tour" of Le Marais, my quartier!  It was another poorly-organized expedition, since most of us couldn't hear what she was saying (she's also a little bit crazy), but it was very useful to find out how close I live to Place des Vosges, a small public park/square frequented by, as my guidebook points out, "frolicking families, cutesy couples, and snooty French teenagers".  This was the birthplace of Madame Sévigné (see above), attracted such nobility as Cardinal Richelieu, and was also home to Victor Hugo -- his old house is now a museum of his life and work.  Place des Vosges is Paris's oldest public square and marked the first European project of royal city planning (having been constructed under Henri IV).   Of course, I didn't get any pictures (but you can click the hyperlink above); below are some from around the Marais.  Many of the shops retain their old signs -- there was a Niké store under a "Boulangère" sign, for example.  In one of the photos, you can see the remains of lettering that used to indicate one was in the Marais.

                                                                     

On Wednesday I went to see my first movie in France.  It was called "Tu N'aimeras Pont" in French (I still don't understand how that translates) and will probably be called "Eyes Wide Open" in English.  It's an Israeli (but also french/german, apparently) movie about a gay Jewish man.  It worked out really well because the dialogue was in Hebrew but the subtitles were in French.  So I (along with probably most other people in the theatre) just read the subtitles.  I only had to ask Pauline about one word, which means "sinner" -- a useful word to know when watching a religious movie.  Anyway, I highly recommend the film.  

I have quickly learned that wherever you go and whatever you buy in Paris, there is probably some way to get a better deal.  For instance, I'm thinking about purchasing an unlimited movie pass valid at over 50 Paris cinemas for just under 20 euros a month.  If I go to the movies 3 times a month, it's paid for.  After having such a satisfying learning/entertainment experience at my first movie, I'm definitely considering it.  Once I get my schedule and get into the rhythm  of classes, I think I'll have a better idea whether I would use the pass enough.  I also bought acarte 12/25, a French rail pass for young people, guaranteed to save you at least 25% and up to 60% on trains around France.  The card is valid for a year and only cost 49 euro.  I bought it partially based on the fact that I know several french students who have also invested in it.

It's not that I intend to spend all my time hunting for good deals, but I do think it's awesome that there are so many ways to enjoy yourself here without spending too much.  Everyone says Paris is so expensive, and it is, but if you avoid the tourist traps, it (so far) seems pretty reasonable.

On Thursday I went to the office of the CIJP, the International Club for young people in Paris.  Membership cost 12 euros, and with that I will have access to lots of events, such as trips around France/Europe (which obviously have a separate fee), language-exchange nights, tours of various arrondissments, museum-trips, and other ways to meet young Frenchies/Internationals.  When I was registering, the girl asked if I wanted to go to the boat party happening the following night (Friday).  I had seen the event on a CIJP flyer and hadn't been planning to go; besides, none of my other friends had expressed any interest in the party. But I asked the girl if she thought I'd have a good time and meet people even if I didn't have anyone specific to go with.  She said the parties were always really fun, and as I still had no official plans for Friday night, I decided to sign up.  Cover was only 10 euros and that included 3 drinks, which I can tell you is an insanely good deal in Paris (even if the drinks weren't awesome).  I tentatively planned to talk another MICEFA student/Anja/Pauline into joining me, but over the course of the day on Friday I began to think it might be better to go alone.  That way I would pretty much be forced to meet people, something that isn't always easy for me.  

All of a sudden it was 7:30 on Friday night -- time to get all dolled up and head out.  There was supposed to be a dinner at 9, but of course I didn't get there until 9:30 (hair-drying/applying makeup - while also surfing facebook - takes time!), but as it turned out, no one got on the boat til about 9:50 anyway (French people are pretty different when it comes to time).  I took my place at the back of the line, between groups of chatty, excited, and fabulously dressed party-goers.  I figured we'd go in soon and I'd be able to join a friendly-looking table.  15 minutes went by with no sign of movement in the line.  I began to get self-conscious and nervous that coming alone was a bad idea.  Everyone seemed to be in groups of 4 to 10 and I was hearing so many languages that I wasn't even sure which one I should use to introduce myself.  Then a girl in front of me stepped away from her group to smoke a cigarette (it's surprising how many people smoke in France considering that the cigarette packs look like this. Seriously.)  I took my shot and approached her.  She gave me a big smile and introduced herself in a thick accent as Carolina, from Spain.  I sighed with relief as she introduced me to her three spanish friends, one of whom (only slightly inebriated) took both my hands and exclaimed that he simply did not believe I was from the United States.  Whatever that means.  Shortly after, Carolina was joined by 2 recently-acquired French friends who study at the same school (a business school just west of Paris).  The night had officially begun and the line began to move.  Carolina and I chatted in English, since she just started taking French 2 weeks ago but spent last summer in L.A.  One of her friends, Carlos, spoke little french and almost no english, so our conversations were a mix of those two languages and spanish (although I'm sure I accidently threw some Italian in).  Alejandro insisted on French, and we seemed to be on about the same level of fluency.  The super-drunk guy mysteriously disappeared shortly after our little introduction.  

We ate a meager dinner of mainly hors-d'oeuvres while seated on plush cushions around a tiny table.  Then we moved out onto the deck, where I chatted with Clement and Jon, the two Frenchies.  They each spent a year in the UK a couple years back, so they understandably wanted to practice their English, which had gotten pretty rough after 2 years of infrequent use.  I spoke in French while they spoke in English (just like Pauline and I used to do in Austin :).  They asked me to correct them, and whenever I did, they both leaned in to make sure they understood the correction.  They asked me if their accents were too strong and talked about how ridiculous they think French people sound when speaking english (the = zee, etc).  It was entertaining.

Later in the night, I met a few more french students/youngins, as well as some kids on an exchange from London.  I was so busy getting contact info (several people added me on facebook from the party) that I missed the last metro (leaves the end of the line at 1:45 on weekends) and ended up having to stay til 4:45AM.  In the meantime, I found some MICEFA friends (Claire, Andy, Glen, Sarah, and our wonderful/insane frenchy, Sebastien) who had decided to stay all night.  It seemed like a romantic idea I guess (especially to them, I value sleep too highly) until about 3AM, when the energy level dropped noticeably, the music seemed to mellow, and it became obvious how smelly the dance floor was.  I got home at 6AM (don't freak out, mom and dad) and fell into bed until noon.  

So then it was Saturday.  I recently found out that Camille, my host brother, has won a bunch of baseball competitions, and is currently the reigning MVP of his age group in France.  True, baseball isn't all that popular in France, but it's still impressive.  Camille can play catcher or pitcher as well as other infield positions on occassion.  I wonder how many teenage girls at his school would be super-jealous to learn that I get to live with such a stud!  To top it all off, his mom (my host-mom), also won a bunch of softball championships when she was in her 20s, and she is the COACH of Camille's team!  So on Saturday, I went to a baseball game in France:

The atmosphere was sort of French/American; one set of parents was actually American (I'm guessing dad's a diplomat.  Mom definitely isn't; her French - on the few occassions that she stopped speaking in loud english - made Andy and I cringe).  The other parents chatted in French, pausing occassionally to yell encouragement to their kids, sometimes in French, sometimes in English with a french accent ("ahh-eye vant you in base!").  So now I know some french sports terminology; when something definitive and exciting happens, such as a double-play to finish an inning, it's "c'est ça!" (say SAH!).  "Allez, allez, allez" (ah-LAY) is the equivalent of "let's go", although the players sometimes just used the english version.  Although baseball games are usually pretty laid-back by nature, this one seemed especially casual.  Most of the parents weren't even there (only about 10 people in the stands), and the ones who were took regular breaks to stretch or walk their dogs.  Parents in the States are usually more passionate, even aggressive.

After the game, Andy and I headed over to Claire's apartment,where about 8 of us (6 americans, plus Sebastien and Nico, a new french friend) gathered to make breakfast for dinner.  I usually like breakfast food only in the morning, but when you haven't had "real" breakfast food in about a month, it's good any time of the day.  I don't think French people eat bacon, though.  We bought something that looked like it but turned out to be too thick, more like ham-steaks. The home-fries, pancakes, and eggs were huge successes, though!  

Sunday I participated in the Journées du Patrimoine, the Days of Patrimony, an annual weekend in Europe where lots of government-affiliated buildings, as well as other attractions, most of which are usually closed to the public, open up for a couple days of serious French-pride.  For the first (and, as our tour guide informed us, last) time ever, the Moulin Rouge opened to the public during the day for guided tours.   Andy, Dominika, Vicki, Tiffany and I braved a 3-4 hour line (Vicki and Tiffany had arrived separately an hour before us and luckily they let us join them), and it was totally worth it.  We saw the lobby and the dining room/theatre of course, but we also went backstage and even on-stage.  Our tour guide talked about all sorts of aspects of the Moulin Rouge that I had never given any thought.  The women at the reception desk are on the phones all day with people from around the world inquiring about tickets.  Keeping the interior of the building impeccably plush is, of course, more than a full-time job.  There are 2 shows every night of the week, and an intense schedule for everything from washing the sweaty-makeup stained costumes and repairing them (seamstresses come in daily) to combing out the wigs and maintaining all the feathery boas and fans.  Costumes are custom-made for the cabaret and the prices are often in the thousands. Horses are brought to the theatre each night; they're used to the music and lights because they've been hanging out at the MR since they were very young.  These horses sleep during much of the day because they have night-jobs!   

The current show, Féerie, has been running since the 90s and will be replaced in 2012, which is why the production designers have to avoid current music and fashion trends -- clothes from the 90s?  Yuck!  Look below for a picture of the most expensive costume ever made for the Moulin Rouge (equivalent of 15000 euros), which can be worn for only a short time due to its weight, and a picture of ME onstage!  Gitcher tickets, boys!  ;)

After leaving the sex-district (let's be real, people), I met up with Clement, one of my new friends from the boat party (I just like saying "boat party").  We went to the Grand Rex, which houses the biggest movie theatre in Europe; seating around 2800.  Then to the Société Générale, my bank (not my branch).  It's an enormous, old, beautiful building to which the prominent computers, fax machines, printers and telephones lend a strange air.  We went down to the vault, but not in it, although if you open up a security box (the smallest one is 10 euros a month) you can have unlimited (although supervised, obviously) access.  If I ever get a security/deposit box, it will be at an old bank like this one.  After that it was onto the Assemblée Nationale, the French house of reps, located at the Palais Bourbon.  I haven't even visited the White House in the States, so it was strange to shuffle around with all the other French people (although there were other tourists) who have grown up with images of this place all over the news, in movies, etc.

To see photos from these and other adventures of the past 3 weeks, click here.  

I ended the weekend with another new friend.  When I visited the Italian department of my university to inquire about classes, Claire noticed a posting on the bulletin board outside: Marco, an Italian student at Paris III was seeking a french/english, french/italian, or french/romanian "language exchange".  Language exchanges are pretty popular here; two people with different "mother-tongues" (the odd-sounding translation) get together to chat.  You don't have to pay a tutor and you might end up making a new friend in this bustling city.  I responded, and yesterday evening we met at the Notre Dame (classic!).  We spoke Italian yesterday and next time I'll help him with his English.  He's from the north, and his accent sounded tighter, somehow - definitely closer to Spanish and definitely more abrupt.  So I might need to pull out some paper next time to learn to actually spell the words he's giving me.

Alright gang, I think I packed about 4 days worth of activity into 2.5 days, and a novel's worth of material into one very long blog post.  Many thanks for your attention and support; I hope you'll check back next week!  

xoxo,

Alina :)

Consider Yourself Informed.

Whew.  It's been a while.  

So much has happened since last week that I don't even know where to begin.  When we left off I was still cell-phone-less, homeless, and hair-dryer-less.  The first two have been remedied, and the third one...we'll get to that.

I found a room in a family apartment in the 4th arrondissment, The Marais.  To give you a good idea of how lucky I am to be living in the Marais, I'll relay some of the reactions I've received to this information.  

From other people on the program:

"skank"

"bitch"

"uhhhhh luckyyyyyy"

and from Pauline, my one French friend:

"how much are you paying?!"

I live with a woman named Laurence and her son, Camille.  We're on the 5th floor without an elevator, but the apartment is so cute and comfortable that I don't care.  I don't know if I'll find/be able to afford any hot yoga classes here, but climbing all those stairs is basically the same thing, right?  Laurence has had 3 other exchange students, including another from UT, so she's a pro by now.  I'll eat with them most nights but I'm pretty much on my own for other meals -- I'll probably be a frequent diner at the CROUS, student-cafeterias in Paris where you can get a 3 course meal for 3 euros.  Sweet! 

I'm very close to my metro stop, which is on line 7, same line as my (current and future) university.  7 also stops at Chatelet Les Halles, an enormous under/aboveground shopping mall + metro/RER stop, as well as at Opéra.  I guess that'll be nice for the one or two times I splurge on tickets :)

Oh, and in case you're still wondering, I'll be using Madame Dubaut's hairdryer.  

I also got a cell phone for 1 euro when I signed a contract for a plan.  Not bad.  The cell-phone-setting-up process was interesting...at least the guy was patient.  Patient enough to explain to me, at one point, that 24 months equals 2 years, and also that 38 minus 6 equals 32.  Knowledge!

MICEFA - the non-profit office that organized french/american exchanges - has organized several outings for us.  

We took a boat-ride on the Seine:

We visited the Hotel de Ville, where the Mayor of Paris works, lives, and receives guests.  There are actually 21 mayors in Paris - there is a mayor for each of the 20 arrondissments, and then there is the Maire de Paris, who is in charge of the entire city.  Outside of Hotel de Ville is the Place de Grève.  A grève is a marshy embankment, but it also the french word for strike, since workers, over the centuries, have gotten into the habit of gathering here when, and not if, they go on strike.

Friday night, we went to the Lapin Agile, french for the "agile rabbit", a cabaret that's been going sine 1860.  It's a pretty artsy/intellectual spot, frequented by Picasso in his day.  Steve Martin wrote a play called "Picasso at the Lapin Agile" in which he imagined a meeting between Einstein and Picasso there.  I couldn't find anything to confirm this, but it seems this would have been the kind of venue/was the venue where Edith Piaf sang her heart out.  There was a woman performing last Friday that sounded just like Piaf.  The show was pretty entertaining, but it goes until 2AM, and the Metro stops a lot earlier than that, so we had to sneak out early.  

I think this also might be in the book "1000 Places to See Before You Die", since they had a quote from it's author in the brochure.  Only 999 more places to go!

I've also managed to check out all the major shopping venues in the last week, which should come in handy when I'm actually in the mood to buy stuff (read: during the huge sales in January, when I'll be relying on shopping to pull me out of my bad-weather-induced misery/depression.  Winter's coming, I know it).  Pauline played the part of the girlfriend/shopping buddy so well as we schlepped around Chatelet Les Halles and Rue du Rivoli in search of the perfect purse/bookbag (found it!) and sunglasses (more difficult to find, since, as Pauline says, there wont be any sun in like 3 weeks).  I spent way too many hours yesterday in the Galeries Lafayette, a collection of designer boutiques packed into a 8-story (or more?) department store.  Regard:

So that brings us up to today, which was a good day!  

Anja, a german girl I know from Austin (she was doing an exchange and lived in my co-op) is now doing an internship in Paris.  She suggested we go to the Parc Floral de Paris, a huge park with indoor- and outdoor-gardens, butterfly and bonsai houses, lots of space for picnics (a word and custom that the french seems to adore), playgrounds for the kids, space for conventions, and outdoor concert hall, and (probably) more that we didn't see.  I don't know much about flowers, but it seemed like the ones we saw here were much different from any I've seen in gardens in the States:

Or maybe I just haven't been paying attention.

Wandering around the park, we stumbled upon a "gastronomie" fair, where vendors from all over France had set up booths to sell their wine, apéritifs, cheese, chocolate, smoked and raw meat, champagne, macaroons, etc.  I think everyone could tell we were "starving students" who wouldn't buy anything, but we (mainly Anja) prodded them into giving us lots of free samples anyway.  My favorite was the melon-flavored apéritif, which tasted better than it might sound.  Most of the cheese counters were strangely quiet, and although everyone wanted to try some wine or champagne, macaroons were definitely the item of the hour.  

You could smell this huge booth boasting dozens of spices from a couple rows away.

After we ate our fill of free food and drink, we headed over to the Chateau de Vincennes, occasional home to French royalty over the centuries.  It's also the place where several infamous enemies of the state where kept, including the Diderot and the Marquis de Sade (we get the word "sadism" from this guy, who was imprisoned at the Chateau twice: once for outrageous behavior in a brothel and again for poisoning a prostitute!).  Mata Hari faced a firing squad there in 1917.  I think the French armed forces maintain offices in the Chateau today.

Anyway, we know the castle still has at least two inhabitants!

Alright, time to do homework for tomorrow - yuck!

Writing to you from my new room,

Alina :)

Hello, Euro

First post from Paris!  It's Day 2, or Day 1.5 as I like to think, and I've "moved in" to temporary housing, although I'm taking as little out of my suitcases as possible, since I know I'll be moving again in a week or so (I hope!).  It's unsettling in more ways than one, but I know I'll be wasting my time trying to set up shop here.  

I don't want to disappoint you, but I haven't seen the Eiffel Tour yet.  Nor the Notre Dame.  I've walked (sometimes quite hurriedly) the streets of much of the 13th and 14th Arrondissments, where the MICEFA office, the Maison des Etudiants Canadiens (temp housing), and at least one campus of Paris III are located.  Paris seems even bigger than I expected, which is why I got a one-month metro/RER/bus pass today (yes, Paris offers THREE forms of under/above ground mass transit).  Tomorrow I'll pick up a copy of Paris Practique, the ridiculously thorough guide to the city that even Parisiens, yes, Parisiens, carry.  With that in my purse, I hope there will be no more seemingly endless treks to the bank (read: today).  On that note, I do have a French bank account!  Génial!  Which I acquired with an ALMOST solely-French appointment.  Other accomplishments today: making some calls on housing/finding more places to call, and attending the Orientation meeting with all 160 other MICEFA students.  

Tomorrow: placement exam part I (for the language intensive), acquisition of a cell phone, potential acquisition of a place to live, and..acquisition of a hair dryer, j'espère.  

A toute à l'heure, mes amis!

Alina :)