My Walk to Class

Yesterday in France there was a Grève Nationale -- or a nationwide strike.  Supposedly all transporation, Metros, Airplanes, Trains, and such were taking the day off in order to raise their wages from the government.  So because the Métro was not riding the rails yesterday, neither was I.  So I took off from my quaint apartment -- Chez Jacques -- on rue Biot and headed south.  My path, brought to you by Jacques himself, was chockfull of the finest spectacles of Paris.  Along my route I saw La Madeline, La place de la Concorde, Champs Élysées, La Louvre, the Eiffel Tower, Les Invalides, and the Tour Montparnasse, not to mention several churches along the way.

--I just took a break to have a little lunch here at Café Daguerre.  I ordered une Salade Speck: bascially some cheese and potato chunks in a bowl.  I think there was some lettuce in there too.  But it was delicious.  It reminds me of Jacques speaking of Roquefort cheese, one of my favorites here.  Its a blue cheese with some stank.  He didn't say it's very fatty or I try not to each much because of the calories in it, but instead he explained to me that the bacteria in it is very good for your health.--

So yesterday I walked.  Here are some pictures from my walk before class and then after class a group of us walked around and did the tourist thing: l'arc de triomphe and Sacré-Coeur.

I was proud of myself yesterday when a group of 11 of us when to the highly visited Sacré-Coeur.  I spotted the North African men from a distance prowling around like sharks in search of meal.  I donned my Wayfarers and stepped outside the school of tourists we were.  They took the bait and moved in for the kill.  I was feeling safe watching them swarm and circle around my helpless friends when I turned around and was face to face with a man attempting to slip some sort of friendship bracelet around my finger -- tightening the noose on his sale.  He tried to butter me up and ask where I was from.  I replied, "La France".  While still trying to evade his smooth sales method I bit into his coldly with a sharp "Je ne veux pas ça!"-- meaning I don't want that!  He must have believed me and been convinced by the facade my shades provided because he promptly spun around for a different meal.

I joined back up those who were still left in the group after the feeding frenzy and and we took some pictures on our climb to top of the steps.  The view from atop Montmartre is one of the best.  I took a few choice pictures of myself which will hopefully last for my children's children to see and replicate in the future.

We strolled along the streets of Montmartre with scenes straight from the movie Amélie.  

I headed home and took a chance down a rogue alley in hopes of avoiding the sex shops of Pigalle.  I suceeded mostly after emerging from the cobblestones just past the Moulin Rouge.  I rested briefly Chez Jacques before buying my baguette and wine for dinner with a couple friends, Becky and Katie.  It wasn't too difficult to reach their apartment on the opposite end of Paris.  I took the 13 to the 4 and took off down Boulevard Brune for a bit.  We made a quick trip to the grocery store and cooked up a delicious meal of pasta and sauce, an assortment of cheeses, a big baguette, a few pieces of poulet (qui ont bien gouté), and a swig of wine.  Even what would be considered a simple meal in the U.S. is nothing short of spectacular when eating in France; different looking ingredients, excursions to an unfamiliar market, talking and eating with different individuals.

I made my way back to the Métro around midnight just in time to catch one of the final trains. Certainly a good day in Paris.

Pictures In Paris

This is a picture of me looking out the window of my bedroom at night.  Ahh. La France.
Inside Notre Dame.  The height of this building is lost in the darkness above.
Notre-Dame on the Seine.

Losing My Way While Finding France

I woke up a little late this morning so I had a quick piece of a baguette and some butter, then rushed out the door to the metro. After stopping in the boulangerie across the street for a chocolate croissant, I came to the IES building. But then I found out that I don't need to be here until 3 this afternoon. So I'm spending some time on the computer to write messages since I usually cannot. This past weekend I went to Rouen to visit Vanessa. I took the early train on Saturday for about an hour and we met at the station in Rouen. We walked a little and told each other about all of our french escapades so far. There are several cathedrals in Rouen including one enormous one. We strolled around inside their immense hollow skeletons. For lunch, we ate at a restaurant called Paul Bistro. It was delicious! I had a salad with goat cheese and some sort of duck that looked like strips of uncooked bacon. Vanessa ate a croque-monsieur with eggplant. And we split some wine of course.

After a while we rode the bus up the hill to Mont Saint Aignan where she lives near her school. That night we went back down the hill with some of her friends to find a spot for dinner. We ended up at sushi restaurant which was some of the best french japanese cuisine I've had here so far. We checked out a pub in the same area and talked and watched the Barcelona soccer game. I'm hoping to get to a few soccer games somewhere and sometime here.

The next day, Sunday, not much is ever open in Rouen, so we hung around her room for a while until catching a train back to Paris at 3.

That's the highlight of everything since I last talked with you. Other than that I've been getting lost in Paris too often. I'm very confused by the layout of their streets here. Yesterday I met some friends at IES and we walked around for a while after meetings all day long yesterday. I decided to walk home because I didn't I was very far -- and I wasn't, but I started walking in the wrong direction. I turned a 20 walk into an hour and half easily. That happened again last night when I left after dinner to meet up with some friends at a bar. I took the metro to les Grand Boulevards stop and couldn't find them. An American girl from New York asked me where to find the Café OZ -- an Aussie bar where they were celebrating Australian day yesterday; the one day out of the entire year when people think of that far off continent. So I wandered in the wrong direction for a while then turned around and looped back around. I eventually found the Café OZ about half a mile past the metro stop in the other direction. I guess I'm getting a pretty good feel for the city though. So after I've been lost everywhere here it won't be possible to be lost anymore.

starting off

Well I made to France safely and everything is wonderful. After we split in Columbus I had a porter at the CBC in the airport and started reading my new book. The first flight to Philadelphia was quick. I sat beside a young woman from Wales who had just gotten engaged the day before. I think she had a lot on her mind because we had a pretty deep conversation about life. It was interesting. Then I hung around the gate for Paris for about 4 hours and had some dinner before we took off. On that flight I sat next to another young woman only a couple years older then me. I asked her why she was going to Paris to which she replied, "Becauz I leev there". She was french! So we talked for a while, me in French and her in English, before watching the Mummy 3 which was not very good at all and then attempting to sleep. I didn't much, but I did like waking up a few hours before landing to watch the sky outside change from darkness with a small sliver of the moon floating above the wing to a bright day above the clouds. As soon as we went trhough the clouds though it was raining, "comme d'habitude" said Caroline, my french friend (as usual). After arriving in Paris, Caroline helped me through the airport while teaching me some french slang. She waited for me to get my bags and then saw me off to the RER to the city, but not before showing me how to do the bisous, which is how the french say hello and goodbye -- like kissing the air on either side of another person's cheek.

So I rode the RER to the gare du nord trying my best not to look like a tourist. I think it was a success -- and I've been getting better apparently because today an american girl with her dad asked me in french to take a picture of them in front of the eiffel tower -- Ha! I had them fooled. Its not too hard. I think the secret is to not smile much and walk around like you have a purpose. It helps to not pay attention to the walk signals at street corners too. So I was on the Metro doing my best french impersonation and I emerged in the middle of a busy intersection with horns honking and cars whipping around in all directions paying no attention to the lines on the road. It was raining. It was cloudy. The air here smells kind of dirty. There is dog poop left on the sidewalks. I'm in heaven. This is like a shorter version of New York city. There are people all over the place.

I walked around the round-about and down the narrow rue Biot to number 18 where I rang the buzzer. I entered and a nice, proper man, probably late 50s came down the stairs to meet me. Jacques then showed me around his spectacular, old apartment. Both Stephen and I are on the second floor, in separate rooms, by ourselves. I have a neat, simple room with a bed that is exactly 6 feet long. I squeeze perfectly between the head board and foot board. After talking a little with Jacques he left for work (he does most of the talking while I say oui and d'accord (ok)). I stayed there for a little while and finished my delicious lunch consisting of jambon (ham) on a baguette with a little spicy mustard, some cheese (brie?), a little rice, a banana, and some beaujolais. Very good. I unpacked a few things and set out for the streets. So far everytime I've left the apartment I've just tried to head in a direction towards something. Its not very efficient at all because I've been turned around often, but eventually I'll see the top of the eiffel tower or of sacre-coeur and turn in that direction. Thats happened at least three times so far that I'll think I'm headed in one direction and then I'll see a monument from a far and go that way.

Yesterday I walked through the hilly cobbled roads of Montmartre to the sacre-coeur. From the steps of the basilica you can see most of the rooftops of Paris. Apparently I was wrong in walking down the front steps though because I was bombarded by guys selling souvenirs who had a keen sense of who was French and not interested and who was American. I put on my best french and said "non merci" and kept walking. I had to continue to resist even more perserverant people as I found myself walking down the Boulevard Clichy, Paris's red-light district. At nearly every sex shop someone was standing outside and they had to have seen me tell the person no at the shop right next to their's, but they were optimistic and literally tried to pull me in anyway. I evaded their clutches and took a little break Chez Jacques. I had to call IES to let them know that I had arrived so I looked around the apartment for a phone, but couldn't find it. So I bought one.

I did another wandering trip down a few streets finding an area with instrument makers carving basses and forming tubas too. I'll have to go in there to check that out later. The first phone shop I found I went into and purchases a phone. I was impressed with myself all day yesterday because I spoke a lot of French and it was understood.

I took a power nap while listening to music and then to avoid falling asleep more I took a stroll down to the end of rue Biot, past L'Europeen, a concert theater, and a few other restaurants to Le Petit Poucet Cafe. I order a cafe express which was very good and I didn't mind paying 2 euros 80 cents for it because I had all the time I wanted to sit there on the street corner beneath the heater and people watch and read more of my book. I'll probably head back later this afternoon. I also found out that Picasso frequented le Petit Poucet Cafe during his younger years while he lived in Paris.

I returned to the apartment to find Jacque there resting and we talked for a while. His son Clemens joined us and we had a bottle of Champagne and some hors d'ouvres. His son is close to my age, he's 25 I think, but he lives elsewhere in Paris. We ate out last night and I had my first french meal. Indian food probably wouldn't have been my first choice, but I'm going with the flow. We sat and ate and talked some more. By the way its about 9:30 by this time. We finish up and go back to Jacque's and then I sleep.

I woke up around 330 for a few hours and had time to read and think though how to say things in French. I fell asleep sometime and then Jacques woke me up about 830. This morning we had a typical french breakfast: une baguette, du buerre, et le thé. Apparently they have two breakfasts usually. One at home and then one with friends at a bar or a cafe.

I wandered around a lot today. I saw la Défense, l'Arc de Triomphe, and the Tour d'Eiffel. Then I eventually ended up at IES for my orientation. They're kicking me out now so I'll talk with you later.

Still In 'merica

Well I can't say much so yet about the French way of life, but I am excited beyond words to fly to France.  It seems like a fine idea to have several ideas or preconceived notions about my semester abroad before I go and then check back when I return to home and see if I have any idea what I'm talking about now.

There are so many parts of the French culture that interest me that I'll just choose a couple topics for right now: food, traveling around, and guys with bourrées and red handkerchiefs tied around their necks -- or any other stereotype of french people.

The food will be good.  That's basically all there is to it.  I've heard tales of lavish 3 hour long dinners with families in France; Lunches that last so long that you only get a small break to stretch your legs until dinner is served. Stories have circulated from the other end of the spectrum as well claiming that your stomach will never be full and wallets always empty because of the small delicate portions which lose precedence to artfully prepared dishes.  I look forward to whatever is put on my plate whether a hearty side of beef or a plate of snails or even a bowl full of tasty bone marrow.  Mmm.  No.  No insipid flavors will be served up wherever I may roam.

And since I mentioned roaming, here's a few ideas I have so far about places to experience.

-Already planned a trip to Barcelona with Vanessa for the first weekend in February

-Somewhere on the Southern French Coast

-Brittany

-Bordeaux

-Munich

-Berlin

-Venice

-London

-Prague

-Lyon

-Zadar (in Croatia)

-Brugge

-Amsterdam

This is just a list of ideas.  I don't think I have that many weekends and I won't be heading out every weekend because I could just as easily explore Paris for the entire duration of my trip as I could all of Europe.  So we'll see.  Feel free to list suggestions.

And of the french.  I can really only say that I'm looking forward to talking with them in French.  I've heard all kinds of stories about French people being haughty and annoyed and then probably more seldom stories of gratitude and their kindness.  Right now my idea is that I've got a little in with the French because I can speak their language.  I'm also thinking that they're a culture with a mélange of people with different attitudes and personalities -- just like the mixed salad I come from.  More on this later.

For the rest of my blogs I'm hoping to mostly just say what I've been doing and include some pics.  Enjoy.