Brr?

It's below freezing in Paris finally- I know that's not like earth shattering for the rest of the world, but i thought i'd share. I don't really have appropriate clothing for below freezing- really looking forward to your arrival mom and dad! Don't forget the coat please!

hmm.. what have i seen lately. a very pretty pigeon, progressively more alarming winter clothing, my horoscope (apparently i ran into someone today who had the same intentions as me, i think we were supposed to fall in love, i think i must have missed him). Today in art history we were studying George Seurat, who happens to have loved painting by "melange optique" i think that makes sense in english too, anyways lots of little dots. All that i mangaged to appreciate today was how much of a headache i could develop after staring at painting after painting made of little dots projected by slides for 2.5 hours.

having completed my middlebury language course I don't have a class tomorrow- so I now have one class left before break - thursday afternoon. vacation schedule :

21st friday- Uncle Russ and family arrive in Paris
Saturday- drive down to Lorgues (south of France)
Sunday- Mom, dad and tim fly into Marseilles
31st- Mom,dad and tim fly out of Paris

New Years eve - hopefully with susan and her family (right susan!? oh and does us watching charlie mean we get to hang out more? I have nothing to do the 1st or 2nd so i'm up for whatever! especially avoiding the musee d'orsay as i've already been twice)

January 3rd- Fly to helsinki
January 7th- return from helsinki.

January 22nd- last final in Paris

parce qu'on vient de loin

Today the woman who’s kids I tutored, as I was saying good bye after our last lesson, asked me if I liked France. I’ve been asked this question a lot- How do you like Paris? I think it’s sort of just one of those questions you ask as a fall back, like you can ask anyone and they can say whatever they want in response. But of course the response expected is always “I love it!” It’s like when someone asks how you are and you’re just supposed to say good- except it’s Paris, so you can’t just say it’s nice- It has to be “genial” which means ‘Great! (awesome, superb, etc.)’ So she asked me, and I responded, but I think for one of the first times I really meant it. I mean I haven’t been asked the question in a long time. When I first got here people would always ask me, in this order, 1. have you ever been to Paris before and 2. Do you like it. What I always thought then was that I liked it better the first time. Paris to me seemed like the type of place that you should just visit. Most of my impressions were based on the fact that Americans just like to take romantic honeymoons to the capital and kiss under the bridges of the Seine and wander slowly down the Champs-elysees.

So the first time I ever came to Paris I was about 7 I think, young anyways, and I was with my family. And all I cared about was going up the Eiffel tower and riding on the carousel. The second time I was 15, a sophomore in High school and with our school group. This was awesome. We were old enough that we thought we could just be independent but young enough that we were pretty convinced that wandering about in Paris and buying crepes was the coolest thing one could ever do. Returning here for the third time left me a little disillusioned I think.

So when people would ask me if I liked Paris and I would say yes, I was really just thinking I liked it a lot better before I had to live here. But slowly over a semester I realized that there was an entire side of Paris that I had never considered, that I had never seen just being a Tourist. I know that’s obvious, but what wasn’t obvious was that I really liked this side of Paris too. In fact I liked it better possibly than the other bit. I mean I think there’s something unforgettable about riding a tourist boat on the Seine at night and seeing the Eiffel tower all lit up and laughing and taking pictures of it with your friends. But there’s also something unforgettable about trying to row on the seine, barely understanding the French commands that you can’t really hear, and pausing to get water under a bridge as the afternoon sun lights up the waves rolling up to the boat.

And it’s not just rowing, it’s the strikes, the rugby, it’s leaving the house in the morning, headphones in, singing along as I dodge around a street cleaner’s broom, scarf around my neck on the way to the metro.

I was talking to a classmate on the way to Art history on Tuesday, talking about the upcoming end of things and how Paris has been. I find myself explaining once again that I was from the country. I don’t know when I finally decided to explain myself in this manner.. it just sort of evolved over the course of the semester. I guess I’ve just never lived in a place much bigger than Westminster in my grown up state and therefore have never needed to describe myself as a product of rurality, but here it has become useful. For example we watched “Babel” as part of a class thing and then had a discussion afterwards. Our language professor was most shocked by the scene when they’re in mexico and a man kills a chicken and then small children chase about the headless creature. He was not only shocked, but sort of immediately tied this to third worldness. But I know people who do this, they live over the mountain from me. Ok, so my family never butchered chickens in front of me – though eating my rabbit was an entertaining joke during my childhood- but it doesn’t surprise me that people would and I wouldn’t immediately use this to distinguish people from myself culturally. Or when people ask me where I come from and I say Vermont and then they ask what city I come from and I just have to say that it’s not a city- In France there are cities and then there’s “Provence”. In its purest form everything outside of Paris is Provence. So people from Paris sometimes only get where I’m from if I say “the country”.

My point of the whole rural thing was just that I was telling this girl how I had been surprised how much I’ve adapted to living in a big city. To the point where sometimes the thought just passes me by, and then I look up and see the buildings and try to ingest the idea that I’m living in one of the biggest cities in the world. Ok, it’s not Tokyo, but you get the idea. I see my screen saver on my laptop of the pictures I took of home before I left and it looks like post cards, like my brain has become so trained to look at buildings that the vast expanses of space are hard to remember. And as a picture is only a two dimensional representation of that space (thank you L’esthetique de l’image) it doesn’t bring it all back. I guess this is what they call acclimation. I just never wanted to have to admit that the stupid culture shock chart was right.. damn them.

Garfield

First of all I just wanted to report that last weekend I went to a christmas concert at the american church and I saw possibly the most amazing rendition of "Hallalujah" aka the pop song, not some sort of church amen, sung by a children's choir. They also pulled off an amazing rendition of the French version of White Christmas, which struck me as ironic since I fear that the children of France, and in fact of most french cultures have very little chance of seeing snow almost any time of year, let alone in December. I would highly bet that the version was made by a Quebequois. But now that it is sung all about it just seems unjust for the poor french children who must sing about wanting a white christmas and then never having one.

Also, during the carol's at the end, I discovered it is very difficult to sing in French. I mean theoretically at this point I know how to sing, and I know how to speak French. But the french annunciate differently and I've never really mastered the French accent where the first sylable becomes softened and you carry out the end. This has been demonstrated many times by our language professor as he excentuates the pronunciation of his name patriiiiiiiiiiiiiccK (the i sort of makes an sound like e), I now find it very difficult to say the name Patrick as most good americans would, but I have yet to arrive at pronouncing my entire french lexicon in such a manner. This doesn't actually really matter, it just means I have an american accent, which is apparently dreamy according to a female proffesor we had- though i'm not sure if it then applies to girls. But let's hope so. But it does apparently matter when singing, because the entire rhythem of the song is changed. I therefore found myself quite consistanlty about half a word behind.

I also this week discovered a Garfield strip printed in French. John is sooo much funnier in French. Actually just the fact that he speaks french is what I find amusing. But it also somehow places him in another context in my mind and Garfield's cold stare just seems to fit then. Like the disgruntled disapprovement of many a frenchmen i've seen before. In this particular edition, perhaps you've seen the english one? John is telling garfield about his light up tie, and the entire punchline is Garfield thinking "you make an easy target" which i guess in english also could have been something like "you make it too easy". trust me, it was funny in french.

What now?

I saw a poodle wearing a red leather raincoat today. Sort of like a little red cherry on the top of the Parisian experience.

New Rowing Club

I'd been waiting to get my camera cable back from the person I lent it to before writing about the new rowing club (Club de l'Aviron), but I'm not sure when that will be so I best just write about it before the impression is gone. For those of you that read the blog post several weeks ago I had discovered that my rowing club would be moving to a new location. When I took the different metro line to the new place, wandered across a bridge over the seine and looked about- there it was. I don't know how much i've described the old place but it was basically an oversized houseboat- though it didn't rock as much as a houseboat, but it did wiggle a little since it was indeed set out on the water. The entire thing was basically two changing rooms, a general erging/meeting room and a couple of offices- the boats were all lining the shore and they had a small boat house too. The new place is incredible- They have four huge buildings- one for kayaks/canoes, one for rowing boats, one for sail boats and the last has the changing rooms, work out rooms and the TANK! An actual rowing tank- I'd never seen one of these things before, but had heard of them from Machi. They're actually still working on this one so it's not finished- but it's soon to be function is an indoor rowing tank- basically sort of like erging, but with water about you and it's set up for four people so you just row like one would on the water. The boat houses would make machi drool I think, they're just amazing. To be fair I've only seen a limited number of boat houses (is that even the right word?) in my life, but as you will see from the pictures whenever i put them up these are definitly the prettiest I've ever personally been in.
Also since it's been raining so often I've just gotten in the habit of wearing my rain coat everyday which I think helps the coaches recognize me- so yesterday as I was walking over to the workout building one of the coaches shouted "bonjour Laurel" at me, and though I could barely see him through the rain and my hood pulled up over my head in the vain attempt to stay dry I was happy to respond with a cheerful "Salut!"

The Consensus

This week marks the third week that the Nouvelle Sorbonne, also known as Paris III, aka my University that I'd been taking classes at, has been on strike. It was, however, the first time I'd actually gone to the A.G.- the big meeting for students and faculty which at this point exists in order to hold a forum to discuss the current situation and then after about 5 hours vote whether to continue the strike.

My expectations for these meetings were pretty low, I showed up an hour late because i knew they tended to drag on forever and I really just wanted to see the end anyways. But I still had 4 hours of sitting through a stream of speakers, mostly students, who just felt like they had something to say and therefore would submit their name to the long list written on the chalkboard. When it cam to their turn they had 3 minutes to get across whatever they felt like saying whilst the amphitheater full of spectators would either support them with silent applause or disagree with very agressive thumbs down gestures. It was actually just fascinating- at least the first two hours, after that I must admit my attention span started to decline. But it was the first time that I'd every felt like the University had a real body to it. Granted there were only around 300 people there probably and the University is much larger. But the students were actually talking as though they belonged to something and that together they felt like they could make a difference. One of my favorite speeches was made after someone had just finished explaining that the students wouldn't be penalised for missing the classes during the strike, the professors were behind it too and in strikes in the past the students always were able to get credit and complete exams anyways. This student then got up and the translation of his speech would be something like "This movement isn't about us, it isn't about the individual. It isn't about here and now. This is about the future. About making a difference in something bigger than ourselves." I think it was much more poetical in French but that's the best I can do. And you have to sort of surround the statement with the ambiance of the surrounding students supporting with cheers and waving hands. And his voice rising and falling with the emotion that sort of swept over the whole room. I sort of wanted to join in their blockade after hearing it.

At the end of the meeting the vote was practically unanimous to continue the blockade- one has to realize that practically unanimous means out of the two to three hundred students that were actually there. But this flew right in the face of the anouncement of the President of the University who just declared that the university would open monday following a silent vote he conducted on wednesday which came back with a vote supporting the continuation of classes. the people at the A.G. were really hyped up about the gaul of the president who would dare take the power out of their hands and try to impose something the they claimed was not his right to impose. So now they think monday there will be a blockade, and the president will probably try to call in the police to end it, and it will not be pretty. So Middlebury has decided to pull us out of our classes there and just have us finish up classes with extra professors that they hired for us.

I will now be taking "Cinema" and "Translation". So weee for starting new classes three weeks before christmas. I will still get credit as usual, and they're still trying to figure out how much work they're going to make us do in the next few weeks.

spies

On my way home last night this man came walking brisquely past- then he pulled out a walkie talkie, said some incomprehensible into it and ducked into a doorway, just like spy people do in movies. I was thinking to myself he wasn't doing a very good job since I could clearly tell what he was up to and i wasn't trying. But then I got really sketched out and walked really fast to my door. I still wonder what was occuring on my street last night that necessitated such espionage activities.

Also pictures from sweden are up on the photo sight : )

Thanksgiving

I tutored English again this week. This time the youngest asked me what I knew about thanksgiving. I got really excited and asked him what he wanted to know. He said he was just supposed to write about it for his class for Thursday. So I was then supposed to just tell him whatever I knew about the story of Thanksgiving. This was about the point that I realized that I didn't really know that much about thanksgiving. He mentioned the Mayflower- but I didn't know the date that the mayflower arrived. I feel that is a failing. So I just told him about pilgrims and indians and how they supposidly had this feast together but I couldn't decide whether this story was just sort of a myth that they tell you or if you're actually supposed to believe it. I just told him that that's what american school children learn. And then I proceded to talk about all the food- which I was much better at explaining. I didn't actually get to talk about the football that also occurs.. but I suppose that's not actually "traditional". Also his mom roasted chestnuts and gave me some to take with me- I had never eaten a chestnut before.

Oh and I just realized that I never recounted my events of Monday night. -

The metro is still on strike here- which really just means that there are a lot less trains running. And those that are running are stuffed with people half the time. So i tried to take my metro line to meet people for dinner across the city and after waiting while two trains came and went- stuffed with people. the likes of which abby so well described on her marshrutka. And I decided to walk to the next station because sometimes that helps. But even there I had to squish myself into an overfull train. This was all uncomfortable but ok until we got to "Charles de Gaulle- Etoile" I think i've memorized every stop on my metro and can even pronounce them the same way the loudspeaker lady does. And I knew that lots of people get off at this stop. So the second the doors opened the entire mass of people I was squished up against gave one huge shove and I was pushed out of the train. This would have been ok but as I stepped backward to catch myself my right foot slipped between the train and the platform and I just sort of fell backward with my leg and ankle caught and people attempting to step over me. I had one of those weird flash backs and I just remembered the scene in the lion king with the wildebeast stampede and all the times I'd ever heard of someone being trampled to death. But I was saved by this group of women that i'd been pressed up against as they started shouting- "hey hey, stop" and various other french words that basically meant "hey, watch it" to the people who were pressing upon me preventing me from standing up again and getting out of the way. I then could lift myself, and leg up off the platform, and other than a twisted ankle and a bump on my shin I had not met the same fate as Mufasa. I also appreciated the woman asking me if i was ok, saying "ca va?" the same phrase as I'd heard some kid's dad ask him after he feel down running one day. And I also appreciated the woman muttering about Sarkozy- apparently blaming him due to his unwillingness to fold to the will of the metro workers and therefore causing all of this. I'm not sure if I'm willing to blame my injuries on the French presidentm, but it was nice that they were upset about it.

I still managed to get to my dinner, after more crammed train riding in which I stayed far away from the door and some limping. But I found the jewish quarter by accident due to my unwillingness to attempt to take the correct metro because I was sure it would just be another nightmare. Now I really want to go buy some bread there. But that will have to wait for another day.

I just heard the news that my university has decided to continue the blockade until at least next tuesday, when there will be another vote. That will make it two weeks since i've had courses at Paris 3. So now the Middlebury center is talking about opening up replacement courses. But for now that means that an exam I was supposed to have tomorrow is definitly not happening. I'm not going to lie, that makes me happy. It's at least interesting to be a part of all the chaos that is currenlty occuring here. Though I really wouldn't mind having a working metro once again.

Fuck

I started tutoring these two boys in english last week (kid previously mentioned) - after going over their english homework I was just talking in english with the older kid and he was telling me about his summer camp and how everyone there just said "fuck" all the time. He said to me "Yeah, I thought fuck was a really bad word- I didn't realize you could just say it all the time like that". I then tried to explain to him that it was considered a really bad word- but that for certain people in certain contexts (like possibly pre-teens at a summer camp) it might be used a lot. But he still didn't seem very convinced when i said that it still wasn't a good idea to use the word unless you were sure it was ok. I wanted to say that if he used the word it was likely that some people might sort of look down on his vulgar speech- but it was hard because his canadian friends seemed to like the word so much. How do you explain to someone that their friends are probably not very respected either? I don't mean to sound condescending to people who occasionaly say "fuck" I just don't approve of it's over-exploitation. But then again that was just my point of view of it- and probably would be this kid's mother opinion too. And what if secretly this kid just wants to rebel against his upper class upbringing and get the word fuck tatooed on his forehead or something? I really shouldn't oppress his freedom of expression. But i probably shouldn't encourage him to say "fuck yeah!" to his english professor either.

Metro and Les Bisous

Well the strike is supposed to stop today. Also my school will probably reopen monday, though we have to wait until the official General Assembly to meet once again monday at noon. But unfortunatly I don't think the students can hold out that long. So I probably will have class next week. Which means the arrival of my Woody Allen midterm. I'm going to attempt to study for this, even though the subject is more painful to study than the time we had to read 5 books on the life of the editor of the Oxford English dictionary. Looking back that actually seemed enjoyable. At least that man was pretty awesome- woody allen, not so awesome. And his movies- well.. they're not the oxford english dictionary. I don't know what i meant by that. I guess I maybe would have thought his movies were ok before attempting to study him. Actually I probably would never have watched them.. moving on.

I've been walking a lot, with all the chaos that i encounter each time i try to enter a metro station. Yesterday this man got onto our already packed train by standing in the doorway and letting the force of the door just sort of fold him into the crowd as it shut. My friend Lauren said it was so tight in her train once that she could feel the heartbeat of the man pressed up against her. Sometimes people will Q up in the hallways that lead to the platforms that let you onto the trains- I once encountered such a line and just turned around and walked back to whence i came. So like I said i've been walking a lot. Which means to get home I've managed to cover the entire length of the Champs Elysees- as well as find many amusing side streets. I found where Christie's (the auctioneer) is located- surrounded by the most expensive looking stores imaginable. I really thought i had found the heart of expensive shopping near the middlebury center- where all the gucci and hermes shops seem to be, but I think it hit a whole new tier when i saw these art deco shops.

I'm about to pack up my things and take the metro across town to a library, where theoretically i will brilliantly outline and find amazing sources for my oral on "what languages should be taught at school?" French schools that is. Apparenlty the current opinion is people worried about the "oppressing influence" of the English language. And then i will study many a things that i'm constantly reminded by the middlebury center that i should be just making up work for myself to do since our proffesors never tell us what to do. I despise making up work for myself- and I can only really accomplish this if I have an upcoming test that i know will cover certain material and therefore can create ways to learn that material- but here it's more like just guess what you think might be good to know and learn that. As the french would say I never "arrive" at that.

Also a dream I had last night in which I returned to the states and tried to greet someone by kissing them on the cheek, only to their great confusion, reminded me that I had never discussed this phenomenon before. I guess I was aware that the French participated in this greeting/farewell ritual before arriving- I just didn't realize to what extent it could become complicated. First of all, as we discussed in my language and society class one day, the French are very bad at shaking hands. This is apparenlty the reason why Americans don't respect the French, according to my professor. Some American students said they tried to shake hands with people that they met here in the begining - but this was laughed at and then kisses were immediatly exchanged instead. But the number of kisses can also be varied depending on where you orignate from. In Paris you're supposed to give two (i.e. one on each cheek). But then there are some people from the suburbs who always give four- This i find to be very excessive and just generally time consuming. I also sometimes become dissoriented when i have to do this because your head is just going back and forth so many times you feel sort of like a chicken bopping it's head about. To make it even more complicated apparently some people do 3- I haven't met these people yet. And i still don't understand what happens when someone who does 2 meets someone who does 4- to whose will must you bend?

The other greeting custom we discussed in my class was hugs- Apparently the french never hug. Someone in my class pointed out that there is a FREE HUGS campaign in Paris though, but of course it originates from the american group. But apparently in general grown ups never "hug" lovers are of course constantly "embrassing" here- but this is not considered the same thing as embrassing generally lasts for extensive periods of time, usually right beside me on the metro it seems, and I will agree has almost nothing to do with a hug. This french high schooler that I started tutoring in English was telling me about his Canadian summer camp he went to and how crazy it was that everyone hugged everyone there- but he seemed really excited about it and thought this was great. So maybe future generations can give it a shot- but maybe he'll just have to move to Canada.

New York Times article

Strike Cripples Travel in Parts of France

check that out.

restless November

after re-reading this I realized i managed to spell blockaded- blocaded like 5 times- but this represents my current confusion between french spelling and english so i shall leave it to preserve the authenticity

so as i tried to sum up with the bbc article - France has lost it's mind. My school is currenlty being blocaded and the metro once again is on strike- same reason as last time: it's against raising the retirement agae of metro workers. But the school thing is because they're trying to let public universities recieve funds from private sources if they can- like U.S. public universities do- but a few people think this means they're going to privitize universities. Which honestly anyone who's ever seen my school would say might be a good idea- but apparently it's not a good idea, so i don't have class tomorrow.

My school just started today (Censier) but Tolbiac, where some other midd kids go has been blocaded for almost two weeks.

We finally had the french middlebury administration here come in and talk to us today about everything that was going on and there explination behind it was probably more honest, though less politically founded than the one given by the B.B.C- apparenlty november is just sort of cold and grey so everyone gets restless and no one want's to do work- so they go on strike. I guess this is what happens when you don't have thanksgiving break.

More strikes

BBC article from : http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/europe/7092336.stm:

Wednesday November 13, 2007

Open-ended strike

From Tuesday evening, the nation's rail network will grind to a halt as transport workers protest at plans to end their special retirement perks, which allow some staff like train drivers to retire on full pensions at 50.

October's strike crippled public transport across France for two days

The strike is their second in a month and this time it is open-ended.

Hot on their heels, Paris Metro workers have called a day of action on Wednesday, which militant unions hope to extend.

The action will be supported by gas and electricity workers, while protests by teachers and students are also planned next week, with the students threatening to block university campuses and train stations.

Plans to overhaul the judicial service and to shut some courthouses have prompted magistrates to strike too - just after a massive one-day strike planned by civil servants on 20 November.

Stubbornly tenacious

Used to protesting on the streets rather than via parliament, the French can be stubbornly tenacious when it comes to striking.

In 1995, three continual weeks of strikes by public and transport workers against planned reforms brought France to its knees and forced the government to back off.

[Mr Sarkozy] will not be trapped in confrontation on the street where it's clear that one or the other side is sure to lose in the end Xavier Timbeau

Mr Sarkozy, though, is made of stronger stuff. So, will he choose to fight till the last and appropriate that famous adage of Margaret Thatcher?

"To those waiting...[for] the U-turn, I have only one thing to say: You turn if you want to. The lady's not for turning!" she said in a defiant speech at the Conservative Party conference in 1980.

He is unlikely to hold out though, according to the economist, Xavier Timbeau.

"Sarkozy knows that a hard conflict will only strengthen the opposition," he says.

"He will not be trapped in confrontation on the street where it's clear that one or the other side is sure to lose in the end."

"Even if he won a victory, he knows he'd have to pay for it very dearly sooner or later. What he wants is negotiation."

NMR

On crowded metro bus, standing next to girl and boy about same age as me speaking in english- though the girl had a strong french accent. Girl tells boy she's nervous about some test on monday. boy asks what the test is about- girl answers "spectroscopy". She's trying this spectroscopy that has to do with the electrons etc., but she doesn't know the english word- "NMR" I say- sort of random, since i'd been trying to pretend like i wasn't listening to them. But this was just too tempting to pass up- It's called "NMR" I repeat- oh yeah- NMR she says. The boy points out how amazing it is that someone on the bus just happened to know what they were talking about- I agree with the boy. Pretty amazing.

Duel?

So a sketchy man video taped me while i was waiting for the metro today. At first i just thought he was a weird tourist taping people on the platform but then he came up to me and told me i was tall and blonde - both things which i'm fully aware of- and then asked me for my email address or address. I don't know how much of this was wishful thinking and how much was that he was just insane - but i of course said no, he asked "you don't have an email address?" and i just said "non" - he then continued to stand near me, mind you it was a busy platform so i didn't fear for my safety at all, and later he asked again if he really couldn't just have my email address. When i again said i didn't have one he finally walked futher away - now holding his video camera again and continued to film me standing there. Hence i crammed myself onto the next metro train, even though it was way over full and i amost got trapped in the door, and left him behind on the platform. But now some sketchy french man has a video tape of me. I can only hope that a better subject came along and he had to tape over it.

This general harrasment, i fear, has become fairly routine- from my jogging in the park, to walking with friends down the street, to sitting - even with head buried in Harry Potter- on the metro. I think it's just part of living in a city, but it makes one want to carry about a large intimidating looking boyfriend, one that would just rip out the tape from that guy's camera and smash it to pieces. Or at least challenge him to a duel.

Toussaints

i am currenlty eating peanut butter out of a jar- need to stop. It's my last jar- but soooo good.

My metro train ran someone over this week. I'm still really disturbed by this. When the train stopped suddenly and the loud speaker said someone was under the train- that we all needed to get off- i didn't really understand what they meant. Huge crowds gathered by the front of the train and people were taking pictures, I guess they could see the man. Another woman rushing by me asked "Il est mort?"= "He's dead?" I didn't know- I didn't even really know what they meant by someone was 'under the train' until i saw someone else describing the scene to another making choping gestures at the torso. I can only guess what this meant- i chose not to stick around and find out or try to look as the rest of the people from the train were. I caught another train at the same station on another line, but the rest of the ride home was accompanied by the loud speaker announcing that "line 2 is closed temporarily due to a serious accident with a passanger" It sounded more eerie in French where "serious" is "grave" and hence just conjures up images of death.

Ironically this was halloween. Halloween otherwise was very pleasant- not actually a holiday here, but I celebrated by going on a trip to the Catacombs and Pere Lachaise. Pere Lachaise was amazingly beautiful and peaceful, especially for a cemetary. It's on a hill facing west and the sun was setting through autumn leaves. It's also known for the famous people buried there- people used to go to Morrisson's grave to smoke pot, but now they've put up a fence and apparently kick out loiterers. Chopin's there, as are Delacroix, Moliere and Oscar Wilde. There are new pictures up on my link (which by the way seems to only work with internet explorer- at least for me fire fox doesn't show the pictures.)

pancakes, Velib, Louvre and the Red Sox

In reverse listed order- I just watched the Red Sox game. By watched i mean stared at my computer screen which had the "Red Sox game day" on it- an application that tells you what's happening in the game with a play by play- this, i understand, is not really the same thing as actually watching the game- but it was my only option- and they were about to win the world series- and some natural instinct derived from far too many years of watching red sox games at home with pa and grammy made this strange pseudo- ritual necessary. Thanks to aim commentary from Katie who was actually watching the game it was actually entertaining- and of course they won (4-3 against colorado in the 9th) making it only the second time they've won since 1918- the first being my senior year of high school- so now i can easily remember all the dates since one will be my graduating year, and the next the year i was in Paris. Of course it is now almost 6am and i have been "watching" the game since 1 am.. so i have not got much sleep- but this does not currenlty bother me because I have no classes on Mondays.

The Louvre was my sporadic choice of activity today- I finally received my year pass- so it's now free and quick to go whenever i so choose. So today was to be the first day- I checked out large scale french paintings first- I'm always so impressed by these- and I really like them because it doesn't take any sort of artistic taste to appreciate them- They're just so huge and the subjects are either very dramatic or very majestic- even if you don't understand the subject one can easily just look at them and drool.
Afterwards I moved on to the Italian School- not as big.. but of course no one ever walks up to a De Vinci and says.."well, it's not as big as that painting by delacroix". The thought definitly passed through my mind when i was peeping a look at Mona Lisa - but then I always really liked the character of Leonardo in Ever After- and I did this fairly cool term paper on him my senior year of high school- so I get it.
On my way out I wandered through Roman statues- mostly of emporers- and i couldn't help but giggle at the fact that all of the faces I recognized were due to the fact that we watched I, Cladius as a main activity in our Latin 4 class. I honestly can't remember the family tree- but the names were all familiar.

So yesterday I made pancakes for the first time- a few people came over to revel in the amazingness that is american baking powder- now something i will never take for granted again. And i managed to feed one to my host brother who happened to be spending the night here- he liked it, though he's been to the U.S. before.

and the pancakes were followed by Velib riding through the Bois de Bologne- Velib's are the new parisian public bike system. They're stationed all around the city and with a credit card you can take one for for about 2 euros per hour. The bois de bologne is just south of my house- it's a huge park on the periphery of the city, and there's this water fall that i found once called the "grand cascade", though it is not particularly large and seems to have been perhaps man-made. so the round trip included the waterfall, a pond, some off roading and passing the old men who play petanque and hassle all females who pass. I always think "oh, it'd be so fun to play petanque with these sweet old men- just like we used to in french class" and then i run into these men and i see why that's a bad idea.

The strike

I realized that I never wrote about one of the most amazing things about france that happened last week- The metro strike. The French in general are well known for their fondness of striking- but never is it so entertaining as when they basically mangage to half shut down a major metropolitan city. The metro strike was declared for last thursday: what this meant theoretically was that all workers (basically drivers) for the metro, buses and trains would not go to work and the city would be left to suffer until Sarkozy decided to give in. What this actually meant was that they shut down all but two metro lines (one was electronic anyways, built in response to previos strikes and the other was basically kept open because it's the tourist line) and all buses and most trains- the ones that remained came so infrequently that they were just packed with people and getting to and from the airport was a disastor. Thursday is also the day that I have an 8am class on the other side of the city- it takes me about an 45 minutes on the metro- and would take about 3 hours to walk there. The general consensus was that one was not obligated to show up for classes on this day- but many classes would still be going on- so it was a good idea to go anyways.

Thankfully the tourist line i was talking about is actually my metro line- also ironically the line that goes to Sarkozy's neighborhood (not that he takes the metro)- so i decided i would take this to a place as close as possible to the university and then walk and just hope i got there before the class ended. This was actually pretty brilliant- i set out a little before sunrise- 7am- and got out at this metro stop in the Marais- the old art district- and then walked across the seine, the ile de st denis, and another bridge over the seine where i could see Notre dame glowing in the early morning sun. I meandered through small streets where children ran past after the sounding of a bell- and down this staircase that just appeared out of nowhere. I walked past Marie Curie research labs and by butchers and bread makers putting out the morning's offerings. I finally arrived at the school only 40 minutes late (2.5 hour class) and the professor congradulated me on making it and I sat down with the 5 other kids who had showed up.

Friday the metros were just sporatic- most were back up - but the loudspeaker in each station kept insisting that the lines were "very, very, very perturbed" or I guess "disrupted" but i liked the sound of pertubed better. By saturday things were basically back to normal- someone yesterday told me they're thinking about trying it again since none of the demands were met.

And the answer to the viking quote is that I was researching where to go for my Toussaints (All Saints) break and a norweigan tour by train was described as such- i guess it was probably funnier in context- but it made me really want to be a viking explorer. I just bought my plane ticket to Sweden yesterday so i'm going to visit my uncle and his family via a flight by Ryan Air- I've heard scarry things about this airline - a wikipedia article states the following under "incidents and accidents at Stockholm-Skavsta Airport"- "21 July 2005 - A Ryanair crew carried out an "irrational and inexplicable" steep approach at Stockholm-Skavsta Airport according to the Irish Air Accident Investigation Unit"

yeah, irrational and inexplicable are basically amazing adjectives for describing a landing.

...as though you were a Viking explorer a thousand years ago.

Procrastination

I'm supposed to be working on this "Rapport" for my art history class right now- I'm going do describe one of Monet's paintings in two pages.. this seems like a lot of pages to describe a piece of art work.. especially when we're not really supposed to research the painting or anything- just talk about the image. But i already gave up on that idea and am definilty researching the painting. At least i'm not attempting to do some sort of modern art piece- I went to the Museum of modern art again on Friday and was given a tour by this Middlebury professor and we ended up looking at this piece - i don't remember the name- but it was three large canvases painted white- not multiple shades of white or anything- but white. I understand the whole modern movement, and i get the whole process behind these paintings. But i think i'm a bigger fan of Monet.

I went to the eiffel tower to watch the rugby world cup on both friday and saturday nights- i feel like i've had a very english weekend- Basically the entire island came down to watch themselves play in the world cup- so everywhere i went there was english- and then i went to the american church which was in english- and now i'm trying to research monet- and suprise- all the web sites are in english. It will be good to go back to class on tuesday and remember that indeed I am in France. Actually i did speak french like once today- i went to the market near my house and bought three large pears - 'poires' had to definitly say the words pear, 3 and maybe something like - thank you sir and good day to you as well! Oh and i had a brief conversation with my host mom while eating my cereal this morning about the weather and then about the dessert she was making. but seriously overall has not been a weekend of great advances.

ok, back to the paper. more to come i'm sure- oh and i'm hoping to remember to take my camera to school this week after purchasing new batteries so look forward to pictures of the hideous building that is the "nouvelle sorbonne" = New Sorbonne- new is not a good adjective in france.. you definilty want to go for anything described as old or classic - but not new. The Sorbonne= beautiful building set in the heart of the latin quarter, Nouvelle Sorbonne= hideous monstrosity in bland neighborhood- this law also applies for potatoe chips and bread specifically, but i'm making it an overall rule.

I Fell into the Seine today

So in a long list of jokes that France seems to be playing on me- today was by far the funniest.. at least in retrospect. Going back a few days - Sunday i actually got to row (insert hallelujah chorus) - It was in this extremely heavy but beautiful and fairly functional wooden boat with 3 other girls- one who was sort of a mini coach, and two girls who were a little younger than me (15, 16) - no Coxswain- so sort of bizarre, but in general it was just kind of amazing to be back in a boat, first time since last october- just like riding a bike though.

Today, however, was my day to go out in a scull (or skiff as they call it here) - A single person, two oared dealy. I've never done such a thing before- have seen it done - but unlike apparently every other rower in france I had absolutly no coordination with more than one oar in my hand. First came the exciting bit- getting in the boat. THe coach who had been rollarblading about the dock, i might add- this seemed extremely hazardous- basically plopped a boat in the water and was like - ok, get on in. So i did- pushed off from the dock- got hit by a wall of wind followed by several large waves from a barge passing by and then began a very slow, helpless roll into the water- once fully submerged- dutifully still holding onto my oar handles- i finally realized the whole thing was a bit helpless- got out of my shoes and pulled myself and boat to the dock

After a change of clothes I got in a slightly wider boat and got out on the water -2 hours of vast improvement later I can't say i'm a huge fan of sculling- but it seems advantageous as i can then train on my own so i'll keep trying.

In other news the RATP strike starts tomorrow- RATP operates all of the public transportation in france basically- or at least in paris- so most of the metro and busses and trains will all be shut down. I'm supposed to make it to an 8am class across the city that usually takes almost an hour on the metro- I'll let you know how that goes.

I accidenlty put my cell phone through the laundry sunday after returning from rowing- It appears to be semi functional now- it will turn on and pretend to charge the battery when plugged in- but the main screen doesn't work- if someone feels like trying to call it go ahead, but i can't currenlty read text messages and i'm not sure if i'll be able to figure out how to answer it : )

The Day That Almost Was

I almost rowed on the Seine today, almost. I didn't want to say anything too soon because the way things go here it's best not anticipate anything. Basically my goal each day is to have the lowest expectation possible so that i can be pleasantly suprised when things actaully work. Basically if I had a basket with 20 eggs- I'm assuming great plague will kill every chick before it hatches and then the eggs will begin to rot and smell something like line 10 of the metro.

going back in time to wednesday- I had managed to get in touch with a rowing club through the director of student life in Paris and she told me to go to this rowing club at 2 o'clock with a medical certificate, 2 pictures (everything in france requires 2 pictures) and the fee for the club- which was not actually decided on- so i was just supposed to show up with large wads of cash. I was not really given any indication of what this would actually mean: when i would be able to row, with whom, where, etc- so i just showed up at the building hoping things would become apparent once i arrived. Instead i found myself surrounded by 12 year olds wearing various rowing clothing. There were two guys who seemed to be in charge so I tried to explain that i wanted to sign up to row- they told me that the Secretary would do that they arrived, but they were running late- so i just stood about, trying to stay out of the way of the 12 year old rowers (apparently training for some big deal french rowing cup). Another man showed up and wandered into the secretary office- I thought the secretary (named Claudine I knew) was a women- but decided perhaps my cultural blindness had misinterperted the gender of this name- so i went over and asked if he was Claudine- at which point he laughed, said no, and that she should arrive soon- apparently Claudine is definitly a woman's name. I essentially walked up to a man and asked if he was Issabelle- awesome work.

When the secretary did show up I was handed a form to fill out - and when I kept attempting to ask questions about what i would be able to do if i signed up and gave here large sums of money- she just said we could discuss "all that" after i filled out the form... If it hadn't already taken me 4 weeks to just reach this point and i didn't understand that this was just a general french thing to make you sign up for things before you really know what you're signing up for I probably would have been more turned off- instead i merely sat down and filled in the usual.

She gave me a brochure that listed hours for the practices - and having explained to her that i was not a beginner she pointed me to the hours for experienced rowers- the first being today from 2 to 5.

So today i arrived- in full rowing gear- eager to discover what exactly i had signed up for- When i went back in the club I found one of the coaches i had seen the other day- he informed me that the adult "leisure" rowing had gone out half an hour before and that the group going out then was actually the beginners. He offered to let me row in a skull (single person boat) but i tried to explain that i'd never done that before - a point at which i realized my rowing vocabulary in french was non-existant. I was then directed towards an english speaking coach who asked how much experience i'd had. This man has told me to return tomorrow at 9am to row with people who actually know what they're doing. So I've dared to elevate my hopes to actually getting to get in a boat tomorrow.. hopefully all will go well. I'm thinking of showing up an hour earlier just in case.

Normandy

I'm sorry i didn't write this like a week ago because i feel like the distance of time will leave me with musings that do not do justice to Normandy.

On the one hand it was just like any touristy expidition- a coach bus, hotel, breakfast with croissants and audio guided tours of old places. On the other hand it was so simple, easy and peaceful that it was somehow than just a mere shuffling in and out of museums and monuments. As I wrote somewhere already to someone.. can't remember when or where- I hadn't realised how much i missed the country until I found myself one more surrounded by green, cows, and little villages. I sit in my room on the sixth floor of my house in Paris - out my window stretch scattered rooftops, and it doesn't intrinsically bother me- I like it even. It looks like a european city: the kind that people in movies always see. But there's an affect that you don't even sense from the everyday pavement beneath your feet, the gusts of stale wind that rush past in the subway, The stiff and silent stares of business men with shiny shoes and ironed shirts and the artifice after artifice that though aesthetically pleasing and impressive - at the same time can not equal nature's creation. I never though that much about it but when you live in the city you're constantly surrounded by human life- you don't see all of it, because it's hidden in the buildings you walk past - it's under your feet as you walk over streets that hide beneath them stretching metro lines. It was nice to just be back with grass and stretching views of ocean or fields.

The itinerary began with a visit to the disembarkment museum and one of the beaches of Normandy turned into an artificial port during WWII. Afterwards we rode onto the American Cemetary at Omaha Beach, which is technically American ground- so i guess i went back to the U.S. for a few hours last week. The weather was amazing- sunny and clear - so i just strolled through all of the gravestones looking at the different states the soldiers had come from. Saturday night we stayed in a small hotel and watched the rugby game in the hotel bar. Sunday we headed onto Mount Saint Micheal, another day of beautiful weather and clay beaches to stroll. Then onto the Tapestry of Bayeau and then The trip concluded with a visit to a chateau and a viewing of The Gladiator dubbed into french on the bus- I really don't think any french person should ever try to dub for Russell Crow- but so it was.

Disastor Planning

I just filled out my Banner web evacuation plan - and it reminded me that my Mother had extended an invitation to my middlebury friends to list our house as a possible evacuation destination. So just in case anyone feels like listing the wickberg family as one of their hide outs should the pandemic flu ever reach Midd our home phone number is (802)8692050 and my home address is on facebook.

Last week

It has been exactly a week since the last post so i will start with last thursday and see how far i get.

Thursday: 8 am course "Technical Analysis of Film" -It sounds better in french "L'analyse technique du Film". the first thing to note is the time that this course was at- 8 am is one thing at middlebury where i can usually make it to bihall in 3 minutes- I had to leave the apartment at 7am which due to it being France or maybe just the time of year means it's still dark outside. Parisians seem to go to work at around 10 am- so 8 is really just pushing things in my opinion. This all would have been bad enough but i also managed to not correctly set my alarm- so after a fairly confusing dream wherein i ultimatley was convinced that i was back in my bed in good old Westminster, VT I awoke, after 7, in Paris- very distinctly not in my bed at home- and with a quick realisation that i was going to be late.

I literally ran to the subway- I've never done this before- mainly because running is not something often done by Parisians- mainly because there shoes are quite uncomfortable, but also just because it would mess up their make up and hair and generally contrast with their pulled together appearance. But run I did- and managed to impressively make it to Paris III in 45 minutes, only 10 minutes late. And thanks to the incompetance of first year french students i was by far not the latest in the course.

French first year university students are an interesting breed. I can't remember the exact number but we were told in our course at Middlebury that about half of the students in their first semester will fail out. But I suppose one has to look at this in the context of the fact that university is practically free for all students who have passed their "Bac" and the university is probably fairly underfunded. This basically means that almost everyone who finishes their Bac in France enters into the university and it just so happens that half of them become disenchanted with the education system and discover that their true passion is writing tormented poems or watching the registers at the local Monoprix- this would explain the plethera of tormented writers and "Monop's".

So the second thing to note in the tale of this course is the subject- I think someone asked me why i was taking film courses- actually many people have asked me this. And just to succinctly answer the question : I have no idea. The longer version starts back when an optomistic wide-eyed freshman decided to take French at a very internationally minded liberal-arts college in the middle of nowhere, VT. This somehow unexplicably led to the same person signing up for a semester abroad and then, ultimatly finding herself in Paris with the option of taking either Literature or Cinema courses- and having already taken French literature courses she decided to go with the later.

That being said I don't really view the cinema courses as just "film classes" - one of them is basically a philosophical art history type course (L'esthetique de l'image)- I like this course very much. The Woody allen one i generally see as an interesting view on America. And the Technical Analysis of film- ok.. that's very film-esque- But you also learn a lot about how there are different ways to view everything. Every shot, every sound has been placed there intentionally- And you start to see how movement and color and pace and light can all affect the way something is expressed... That being said i have no intention of ever studying film further after this semester- nor have i ever held more than a passing interest in Films.

So after arriving, post cross- city sprinting - we watched a scene from Edward Scissorhands and talked about each shot and the girl sitting next to me proceded to fall asleep.

Friday: midd course in the morning followed by Woody allen in the afternoon- I had my first encounter with other middlebury students at Paris III - After a week of meekly smiling at all the french students about me, it was very nice to run into familiar faces. After the course i attempted to find an open book store, but instead ended up just taking the subway to various places and eventually giving up and going home to pack for the trip.

to be continued...

Bibliotheque Pompidou

I'm currently at the centre pompidou- there's a free library here and it let's you use it's wifi for and hour and a half a day- I sort of get wireless at my house anyways but i was going a little nutty hanging out there so i decided i wanted to check this out. I'm very glad i did- not just because of the coolness of the library but also because across the street is a grocery store called "Ed" where i found chocolate chip cookies- COOKIES!! - the french don't understand cookies- and consequently their grocery stores don't sell them. But this place sells two types and the one I purchesed had a very american themed box. I also discovered something that resembled fig newtons- i looove fig newtons.

I'm half way through my first week of classes and things are going well. I can understand the proffessors at Paris III as long as i listen and watch them talk- I've discovered that this is actually very important for my level of comprehension- seeing the lips moving. Wehn some students in the class were asking questions and i couldn't see them it was strangly difficult to follow what they were saying. At Paris III all my courses are for first year students so they all look so young- they also all seem to be brunettes and short- I sort of like getting to introduce myself to the professor and explain that i'm an American student and observing the reaction of other students in the class. One guy definitly sized me up after I had announced this as if to say- american? really? niiice.. But in general the other students seem to be pretty nice. They're cinema people so you can sort of pick out the ones that think one day they're going to direct the next great film or at least spend the rest of their lives consorting with deep thoughts in smoky bars. Some of these people are extremely annoying and enjoy professing their "unique"opinions which are so highly not original. But really I still find this sort of entertaining. I'm a little confused about what work i'm actually supposed to be doing- most of the classes have one exam and one paper and then a list of books that we could read if we feel inclined- I would love to read the books , but which ones? should i buy them or just go to a library and read them there?

I'm in the midst of attempting to enroll in a rowing club- but like all things in France this is going to take an absurd amount of time and an absurd amount of documents and photocopying.

Aunt Jemima

I saw an american food store today near the Hotel de Ville. Unlike most american food stores abroad that i've seen- this one did not seem to just specialize in large boxes of american cereal and various junkfood items such as cheetos- instead it had a very classy air to it. The store was called "Thanksgiving" and was situated on a very quiet lane with cobblestone paths. What it did have was an 8 euro box of Aunt Jemima pancake mix. Now I will say I do think Aunt Jemima can probably make some fine pancakes- and i understand that this had to be imported so therefore is more expensive- but honestly pancakes eight euros?? that's like fourteen dollars for one box of pancake mix. Pancakes consist of flour, salt, baking powder, eggs and milk. Last i checked cavier was not included in Aunt Jemima- therefore a box of pancake mix should for no reason cost 14 dollars- arg.

In revenge i know plan to search out the above ingredients next week and make myself some thouroughly non expensive pancakes- though probably with jam on top- i don't even want to know what a bottle of aunt jemima syrup would cost.

and the days go by...

Yesterday i wandered aimlessely for awhile around the quartier closest to Middlebury's school- I found the Opera Garnier, which of course was very impressive, Then found the Gallerie Lafayette- a huge store which sells mostly clothing and accessories, but in the most intimidating fashion possible. The shoe level, for example, is split up into different clusters based on the shoe designer and there's an attendant at each- this means even just browsing must be done at a rapid pace in order to avoid the inevitable question of "can i help you?". It is also a tourist sight so the main level was swarming with a bus load of tourists who seemes to cluster near the winter hats which slightly ressembled berets - Happy to be out of the rain i decided to wander up the escalator where upon i ran into 5 men dressed in rugby uniforms, fakely grunged up with their leader barking things in French. This was apparently some sort of store promotion. And I believe the men were models, not rugby players. But nonetheless this reminded me of the fact that i hadn't mentioned that the rugby world cup is being hosted in Paris this year. Rugby therefore tends to invade most of my days here- even though i don't have a television and have therefore never actually seen a match. Last weekend was a big Irish match so the metro was full of english speaking types with strong accents. I'm not sure how, but i usually ended up talking to these people on the train so i've been wished good luck with my studies by many an Irishmen.

After my meanderings in this over-chic arrondissment I caught the metro in an attempt to go to Saint-Denis where supposidely there's a rowing club. I took the metro to the stop suggested on their website - only to find myself clearly in one of the less appealing suburbs of Paris. It was fascinating to finally be somewhere where tourists weren't and would clearly not desire to go to. My major failing in this endeavor was not having searched for better directions. I knew the address of the place and i knew it was supposed to be a ten minute walk from the metro- but my map of paris did not include the suburbs and i had only a vague sense of what direction it might be in. After searching in two complete different directions for over an Hour and finding nothing that resembled the correct street name, nor the Seine on which the shells of said club were supposed to row, and noticing that i grew hungrier with each Boulangerie I passed- nearly drooling at the sites of large baguettes pearched in the windows- I returned to the metro.

And on a completely seperate subject - I've finally finished my "preliminary courses" which means next week real classes begin. It also meant a serious of exams that were taken this week- my favorite of which was our two hour "commentaire compose" In which we had to make a detailed plan of how to write an analysis of a selected text as though we were in a literature course. But of course we hadn't had an actual literature course, but rather had just spent two weeks learning how the french write papers for literature courses - so we got to really just make up whatever we wanted to say about the text.

Cherie FM continues

amazing song just discover "je suis un garcon"- I don't understand any of the words except (translated) "do i have to choose.. in another way i am a man" - of course sung by a woman. This could either be a pro-feminist or just transgender.. either way it's very upbeat.

Week Three Begins..

I finally found an online radio station which actually plays french songs- and amazing french adaptations of english songs- including "total eclipse of the heart" which i never really understood in english either. I hope this music is helping with prepositions and pronouns- We have an exam on those tomorrow. I feel like this is the millioneth exam of my life on prepositions and pronouns. Either way I've successfully spent more time today listening to this radio station than studying.

I hear it's the beginning of "fall" in the states- I don't know if the French have specific dates for these things but either way the rainy season has begun. There seems to be two seasons in Paris- summer and rain - so i guess the season has changed here too.

I had a great conversation with my host brother yesterday about the amazingness of american living room furniture- all in attendance were intrigued to hear about the "recliner"- this was apparently the host brother's favorite thing in America when he was there. People in France do not believe in sitting in comfortable positions on their couches - even in their own house. At least now I understand why the television in kept in my host parents room- i wouldn't want to watch television on the couch if i had to sit like that either.

Homework help?

*Pictures are up

I found this French radio station on Itunes- so i'm trying to be all immersed, etc. But it's currently playing Hellogoodbye's "Here" - and before we had some Britany spears. I know there is French music- they just don't seem to like it all that much. so the most french i get is the commentator anouncing the songs in between. At least i'm trying.

I went to Angelina's yesterday- It's right next to the Louvre and a Rolex store. It's rumored to have the best hot chococolate in all of Paris- It was really amazing. I'm currenlty procrastinating from writing an essay about my goals in France- I think I could be perfetly happy just hanging out in the Louvre and drinking Chocolate Chaud at Angelina's- do i really need to have more goals than that?? ooh great- now we've moved onto Spice Girls.

If anyone has suggestions for goals in France i'd appreciate the help : )

Mais non.

Yesterday I was a bystander to the most alarming parking attempt ever. This man was litterally bumping other cars out of the way in order to make enough space to squeeze his car into. He would go backwards, collide with the car behind and shove it a little and then repeat the same in the forward direction. I was horrified.

Last night I picknicked on the Champs de Mars- a grassy park stretching in front of the Eiffel Tower- which i now know glitters for 10 minutes out of every hour. I tried to take a picture but you can't take a picture of something glittering. This was fairly amazing but the picturesqueness was ruined slightly by the quantity of people trying to force you to buy Champagne from them and this one crazy man who kept talking to us in a mixture of French and English even though we insisted we didn't understand English. When he kept asking questions I told him my name was Emily and that I was from Sweden and could only understand Swedish and French. He didn't seem to know enough French to know the word for Sweden so this confused him enough to make him leave us alone.

Liberal Arts

*New pictures are up

I had my meeting today with the academic advisor so I had to choose classes for the semester. This was sort of a bizarre process due to the fact that I feel like for the first time in college- i guess ever in my life- my choices were all courses that I don't feel will ever be directly pertinent to anything I want to do. At midd i'm always taking a science class for Pre-med and in high school i really didn't have that many options anyways. So i'm now signed up for what will truly be a trustfall into the system of liberal arts- i mean if the spirit of liberal arts is sort of that learning of any sort expands your horizons and benifits you greater than the direct skill sort of learning of the technical types. My current course load will be something like this:

Middlebury
-French Language and Culture
-Art History of the 19th century

Paris III (Nouvelle Sorbonne)
Department of Cinema
-Analyse techinique de films
-Esthetique de l'image
-still have to choose between a film course in burlesque, hongkong, bollywood or woody allen- i'm currently leaning towards hongkong or Woody allen..

OH and it rained here for the first time yesterday.

An American in Paris

I went to the American Cathedral for service this morning - it's this amercian protestant church in the city but the service is in english and most of the members are American or english and we sing american hymns- i can't describe to you how amazing this was. The first thing i saw was that the little kneeling stool in my pew said "Vermont" on it- this was the beginning of holding back tears of joy. I don't know why but there's just something so different being in a place that recognizes and understands the different States-I wasn't just from The U.S. , I was from Vermont. I also talked to a woman in the pew in front of me who was from New Jersey- she was there just for a few days but she had lived in Paris for awhile several years ago. I forgot how nice church people are.. especially american church people. Singing the hymns was more amazing than ever before. After the service i found where the Vermont flag was hanging in the church- this again was a pretty amazing moment.. realizing that all of the 50 states had a flag hanging in the sanctuary. That and this being the first time i had spoken any English since arriving made the morning basically amazing- Not that i detest speaking French most of the time- it's just so nice to know that there is somewhere i can go for retreat when i feel like I really need it.

ca va

There are more pictures up- and more to come. All i do really is take pictures. That and sit in the Centre Madeleine. We've had three days of orientation- but i feel like i've been here a lifetime. That's probably not a good attitude to take on things... owell. I really like Paris- it so city-like without being city-like. Next to the Middlebury center is a street full of these really upscale clothing stores (Gucci, Hermes, Chanel, etc.) so i get to walk past these each day and observe as the over-chic attendants from these stores stand outside smoking before their day begins. And my metro stop for school is at Place de la Concorde- so on my way to class each day i see the obelisk and the ferris wheel and the Tour Eiffel in the distance. I tried to think about how strange it would be to have things like this so close to me in Vermont- If the Arch de Triumph was at the bottom of my road- and instead of my church i'd find Notre Dame - it's sort of a game i play with myself to try to remind myself that i'm in Paris.. i'm not sure if it's working. I'm actually just happiest when i'm at school- in a building where the only evidence that we're in Paris is the French all about you and i suppose the Monet paintings on the walls.

That being said we haven't really started "school" yet- that doesn't start until october. Right now we just have this combination of courses on language and culture that will count for a credit- it's sort of like j-term i guess.

I've started trying to think in French- actually i'm not really trying it's just that my head tries without consulting me. The only problem with this is that i form very repetitive thoughts.. they get better but they're entirely directed by a much more limited vocabulary- sort of a problem. Sometimes they just ramble onto any subject or phrases that i know really well. I find my self saying alot "i don't know" because this is very easy to say in french.. but it's not really connected with the fact that i don't know something at the time.. it's just easier than thinking whatever i really want to think which would probably involve some sort of conditional conjugation.

Oh and during orientation we were forced to look at the culture shock chart- again- i actually volunteered to explain it when the question was posed to the class what this blank chart was on the wall- i really hate this chart. More than one should hate an inanimate object i think.

Photos

Currently only 3 there- one of my baguette, one of my street, and one of the view out my window.

http://picasaweb.google.com/LaurelleaParis/Paris

the link will be on the blog too.

Sleepless in Seattle.. well Paris at least

It's currenlty 4:15 Paris time- I have orientation at 10am- I attempted to sleep- at 10pm i actually managed to sleep until 12. I guess my body decided napping was okay- but getting back to sleep proved impossible. After attempting to read for several hours and then just laying in my bed, lights off, duvet pulled up to my chin for another few I just got frustrated and decided to say screw the whole thing. Although i'm sure it will leave me quite tired for the rest of the day there's not really much i can do about it and at least it gives me time to write extensively long blog posts which almost no one else will actually have time to read.

Backing up several days i have a journal entry that i wrote at the beginning of my flight:

I glanced out the window as our plane pointed down the tarmac- facing liftoff. My eyes are met by a horizon glowing from the effects of a large red and orange sphere- you can actually see the edges of the sun. I glance away as the plane budges forward.

Here we go. Here I go- i guess there's no 'we'.

I look back to the window just in time to see the sun melt below the earth. How fitting as i say goodbye. Like a cheesy end to a romantic film. The plane leaves the ground and i feel my stomach drop- the same feeling encountered many times before in the face of lesser things- from playground swings to roller coasters to nervous butterflies before a race. My life feels like a tally list of such events- here comes the next.

The only current insight to the French psyche i have is that all the children here seem to have razor scooters- and there are lots of children.. and lots of scooters. Sometimes the children on scooters are carrying baguettes.. this is a sight which i greatly enjoy. One scooter child almost ran into someone (actually this seems to happen a lot) and his mother began to scold him- I understood every word she said "you never listen..come here.. etc."

Today I walked around Paris- ok.. i walked around 1 arrondisment of Paris (of which i believe there are 20). But this was quite the feast in and of itself. The Champs-elysees is at the end of my street so i struck out there first. The nice thing about finding my way around this place is that there are huge monuments everywhere.. so it is very difficult to get lost. I didn't need to worry about consulting my map to see which was led towards the city- i merely pivoted my head left to see the Arch de triumph and began walking.

When i arrived at the structure itself the place was bustling with many tourists- including a japanese couple - the husband trying to take a picture of his wife with the Arch as a backdrop. I accidently started to walk into the shot when i realised, said "pardon" and "exusez-moi" and proceeded to walk around them when the husband smiled and begged that i instead stand with his wife in the picture. I guess they thought i was a Parisian- i was wearing my most convincingly parisian black shirt and blue scarf- and as this occured to me half way through posing in the picture I was tickled pink- and even attempted to keep up the illusion as i left saying "merci beaucoup" and "bonne journee" even though they spoke no French.

Alarming

Blogger has suddenly become french.. I didn't change any settings - but apparently it knows where i am. I guess i'm really here then- that is alarming.

I don't want to get my hopes up to early- but i think i can actually speak French. I mean of course i sound completely American with every word that exits my mouth- but i can actaully understand people- and read things- and say things. So even if i'm not fluent - i'm at least something. My first actual conversation was with the guardienne of the building who let me in - gave me various demonstrations about what codes to dial, what keys to use, and what buttons to press. I tried to joke about how huge my bags were- and we both actually chuckled together when we saw how large my bag was compared to the size of the spiral staircase that takes me to the second floor of the apartment- where my room is.

The only thing purchased so far in france was a baguette from the Boulangerie on the corner. I then proceeded to walk around tearing off bits and eating it.. which i soon realised to be a faux pas or at least something that probably marked me as a tourist - i think this is equivelant to going to the grocery store- buying a loaf of bread and then proceeding to walk about town eating slices of it. But i couldn't remember the code to my front door and the "guardienne" wasn't home so i had no other appealing options.

Pictures and other news to come soon.

Presque

Tomorrow's the day. Today i went to Hanover - home of Dartmouth College. After purchasing a few books for the plane i went and sat in a bench on the Green and read "A Year in the Merde" - a book about an Englishman's life in Paris for a year. The only problem with the book is the large type "MERDE" written on the cover- which, though inconspicous in the English speaking world- I fear will not be so in France where perhaps wandering around with a book that says "SHIT" may be 'faux pas'. I also have Bill Bryson's "A Walk in the Woods" so hopefully i will have moved on to that before i get to France.

As I sat on the green there was some sort of freshmen gathering occuring due to their arrival for backpacking adventures. The greeters were very enthusiastic and wearing exuberant colors- but the freshman looked bewildered and confused- all was as it should be. They were then forced to learn some sort of dance- i kept peering over to see if i could distinguish a tall boy in the form of Jack but i wasn't even sure if he was participating in this sort of pre-orientation foolishness.

My last thoughts from Vermont- excited, nervous ( but less than i thought i would be), giddy (more than necessary). The autumn has come and the leaves are turning - alors it is time for me to bid adieu.. or Au revoir. My host mother has emailed me to tell me that Indiana Jones (Indy for short) will be waiting to greet me when i arrive. So thankfully my first hours demand only my interaction with a dog who will not know my proficiency or lack of in French. I must go and find a safe packing place for a can of maple syrup and a jar of peanut butter.

Sept Jours

Amazing- Eddie Izzard Learning French

Huit Jours

I emailed a rowing club in Paris yesterday- they wrote me back.. sounds like it might actually be fairly easy to join one but some more butchered French must be sent back and forth before i really figure anything out. This place is actually just called "rowing-club". I was sort of hoping for something more French sounding but i guess that's what you get for entering "paris rowing clubs" into google.

Packing has not even commenced.. i guess i still have a week but i should probably start soon.

9- Neuf Jours

Vermont is pretty. The weather's been really nice the past two days. Somehow this is still not helping.

Hmmmm

that is all

teaching spiderman to swim

One sunny Wednesday at your local day camp- a reluctant kinder-camper sits on the steps of the shallow end of the pool. "come in- I'll help you I promise- you'll be fine. It's not even deep. See- he can touch!" - "NO"- "why not- it's really nice in here I swear" - "NO!"- a thought pushes it's way into my thoughts, currently fully occupied with other soothing words about the water's temperature and non-shark infestedness- Spiderman.

The visions of the dozens of pieces of paper already used today in order to fill the wishes of my small camper's desire to draw Spiderman- again and again and again- each time finishing his masterpiece in order to hold it up before me clutched in a tiny, but sure grasp- "Spiderman!" - the gleeful explanation is all that is necessary to define the creation in front of me: perhaps ressembling spider more than man, but nonetheless the circle of red and frantically positioned lines of black clearly drawn with intent- "ooh, another one!" i gleefully reply as I put this treasure into the folder already bursting with earlier works: all similiar, but each varying slightly as purple or blue or orange crayons each take their turn in joining the entity of superhero might that is our spidery friend. "pshhh, pshhh" is the sound of my young companion as he shoots spidery webs out of his wrists, "I'm spiderMAN!"

"Did you know that spiderman loves to swim" It's too easy- he'll see through it. his eyes question back at me and sure enough the reply is unconvinced "no- he climbs up buildings with his spiderwebs"- "Yeah, sure, he does that too- but really- every superhero swims. Otherwise Aquaman would totally crush them" He has no reply but his face gives a little to the confrontation of living up to such standards- can shoot spiderwebs out of his wrists AND swim! Across the pool comes a shout from another camper "I'm spiderman!!" as the kid leaps into the water. "NO! I'm SpiderMan!!" Into the water he goes yelling all the way over his shoulder, just in case anyone couldn't tell from his superior swimming powers: "I'm Spiderman, I'M SPIDERMAN!".

Summer romance?

Carole King: I Didn't Have Any Summer Romance

They're always writing songs, about a summer love that doesn't seem to last beyond the fall.
but i've a different reason for crying this season, the reason that can hurt you most of all.

i didn't have any summer romance.
nobody bothered to break my heart in two.
while others were fooled by the sweet words someone vowed
i was the one who made company a crowd.

i didn't walk down the beach in a trance
or listen to little white lies that sounded true
and no one could be as blue as i was in the fall
'cause i didn't have any summer romance at all

the war with the room has currenlty been surrendered, all my crap now just lays about the house. it's times like these i'm greatful my parents aren't neat freaks becasue my stuff has basically taken over a hallway for a week and no complaints so far.

other summaries recently:

1) i layed out in the sun yesterday reading a copy of Modern Bride from approximately 4 years ago: still found it entertaining

2) read an article in the New York Times which basically attributed the recent upsurge in marathon participation to Oprah: seriously, is there anything that woman can't do?

3) this town is ooc

4) my brother returned home today, without any of his stuff: it's still all in his apartment apparently. But over the course of about 5 hours i have already witnessed the slow progression into out of control boredom which, to be fair, took me at least several days, he has no stamina.. really quite sad. But it's still sad to witness it in others. I've informed him that the best strategy is to just go mildly insane and develop a new tick: mine is singing along with music outloud that no one else can hear: Stella doesn't mind- but my dad gives me disapproving looks occasionally.

5) Stella has this stuffed pikachoo and she chases it about, but has no concept of "fetch" this can entertain me for good 20 minute periods

6) no woman no cry may be extremely cheesy, but i like it and will continue to listen to it.

I am in the midst of intense civil war with the possesions filling my room.. well more like a cold war really. I keep giving it all looks and warnings that it could be thrown out any moment if it makes a false move, but i haven't actually launched any serious afronts yet. There are just too many books, stuffed animals, clothes and general unneccesary debauchery protruding from each corner which i keep attempting to shove into a new box, only to find it rearing its ugly head a few moments later. I suppose the things are not the real problem.. the real problem is my lack of willingness to part with said things. examples:

top drawer of dresser.. a strange destination for random sentimental objects: a bah mitzvah cap to a bah mitzvah i never attended but it's leahs.. can't really just throw that away right??, a cut out of the wedding dress i intend to have, a certificate from some athletic camp, some strange sock/slippers from turkmenistan, earplugs, a softball medal, squirt gun from atwater assasins etc. Yes i could empty the entire thing into the trash: and i remind the drawer of this everytime i shove some other sentimental object into its depths.. but so far it is clearly winning the battle. I mean if i can't even get rid of the earplugs there's no way the softball medal is going anywhere anytime soon.

my closet: stacks of old work - i just recently spent several hours rereading essays for senior year classes. I discovered that i've used the word "out of control" before in complete seriousness. i don't think i could use that phrase in a serious manner anymore. I also realized i used to know a lot more about history: conflicts in Northern Ireland as an example.. wrote a 10 page paper on it at one point apparently.. now: ???? clueless basically. If i threw away the paper there would be no evidence that i ever had a clue; then where would i be??

basket on floor: filled with random stuff my field hockey secret buddy gave me in years past and other objects i've always felt would be good regifting items: somehow i don't think the rose that sings "you are my sunshine" out of tune is ever going to have a purpose- but throw it in the trash?? when there are starving orphans in somalia?? never!

I'm fairly aware this post has no point, but my life currently sort of has no point so i think we're even. I'm sort of weirded out by the whole gettin 8 hours of sleep, eating regularly and lack of any sort of drama. It's been a bit too long since i've just had time to sit about and figure out what i wanted to do.. with the next 5 minutes, the next day, the rest of my life etc. basically haven't come to any conclusions yet. Mostly i just listen to a lot of music in an attempt to quiet the millions of voices in my head who are currently fighting for attention. I can't really hear what any of them are saying and it sort of just gives me a headache so i think i'll let them sort it out on their own before i listen in.

I'm not sure what happened the past 5 months since j-term began but it was sort of alarming or ooc or whatever you would term it if you actually wanted to convey those terms seriously. basically too little sleep, too much work, too much of me being frightened out of my mind that it wouldn't get done, i was failing at life and i was about to go off to a foreign country for a year to just fail at life there. But somehow it managed to be fun and i think the semester payed off somehow.. still trying to sort out how.

Chez moi

the lack of the french language to have a good word for the sense of home brings on the first anxiety of me having dedicated my college career to this silly language- i mean if you have to constantly be differentiating whose "home" it is and can never just say "home" i don't think they have much of a chance as a country: this revelation may explain many of their failures.

I'm getting towards the end of Jane Eyre- it's becoming more and more depressing as i read: you were right susanna i definitly had not reached the denoument but i think the book would have seemed much more cheery if i had just stopped there. the lunatic/crazed wife locked up in the attic not really doing much for me now. hopefully there will be a point to it all in the end.. or at least a cheery message that many books now try to get away with "life has no point" so we shall see.

Since being home i have been told by at least 4 persons that "Shrek 3 is playing in town!" this is supposed to be exciting because Shrek 3 just came out- thereby making this a first run movie- and the town of bellows falls never has first run movies: we basically always see them about the time they are released to airlines and such. That and the fact that someone managed to back there truck into the Dari joy window (but don't worry, it's still open!) are apparently the hot news items of the month.

In finality i read for better or for worse when i got home on wednesday and the punch line was "opposites attract" which i remember Kurt saying that he wrote about for his psychology final as being one of those common misnomers that show how psychology isn't actually intuitive. so basically i thought this was a sure sign that not only was for better or for worse no longer insightful or witty- it's now just wrong as well