(52): Paris, Above Ground

(52) is Saturday, 27 February 2010

I met a playwright this morning... his name is Alan Rossett, and he's an American expat who's been living here for a long time, directing his own plays on small budgets and in what Vassar students would call "alternative spaces." I got in touch with him through the Vassar-Wesleyan program, ostensibly in search of an internship. He didn't have anything to offer me, but we chatted for a while (apparently, back in the day, this guy once played Iago to James Earl Jones's Othello) and he agreed ("avec plaisir"*) to read some of my material.

I then headed back to my house for a nap, but I decided to stop for lunch, which turned into strolling, which turned into taking my Vassar advisor's (James Steerman's) advice of riding a bus for the hell of it to get to know the city. Four times.** I left my meeting with M. Rossett at about 12:45. I got home at about 4. Such a good suggestion on JimmySteer's part.

I then napped, and went out to dinner with Izzy and Carryn*** at a restaurant near Mabillon called "Coffee Parisien." It's basically an American diner in the middle of Paris. The food's quite good-- they've rather captured the American technique-- but I hesitate to recommend it because, well, it's American and it's expensive enough to make you wonder if it's imported.

General announcement: I'm likely going to be out of computer contact for a few days. I'm going on vacation (no classes this week... seriously, I don't go to school). I will return to Paris on Thursday evening.

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Just when you thought I'd never do another footnote...

* "with pleasure"

** Here is a map of the Parisian bus system, if you want a more visual sense of how I took the VERY long way home. I got off the train at Trocadero and wandered to the northwest of Charles de Gaulle-Etoile (that's the Arc de Triomphe), where I hopped on the 43 bus (in red on the map) all the way to Gare de Nord. That's more to the northeast, where many buses converge (trains, too, since "gare" means "train station"). I then switched to the 38, which took me down to the very south of the city (Porte d'Orleans). From there, I connected to the Tramway 3 going westward across the bottom of the city. The Paris tramway is a sort of cross-pollination between a Paris metro train and an above-ground San Francisco trolley; it looks like its chic mother and drives above ground like its father. At Porte de Garigliano (end of the trolley line), the PC1 bus took me across the Seine and back to metro line 9 at Porte de Saint-Cloud (it's not on that map, but it is near the southwest corner of this one). From there, I took the train one stop to Marcel Sembat, which is home.

*** Pronounced "Car-in", not "Care-in."

(49): Shutter Island is a pretty good movie.

(49) is today, 24 February 2010

Not much to report, but unlike last time, I have a very good reason for writing today. The following is a link to my photo album:

http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=394980&id=734690178&l=429c251b32

Don't worry if you're not on Facebook (I speak mostly to my adult readership); that link should work anyway. Tell me if it doesn't.

Anyway, assuming that link works, it is there that you can see my favorite pictures of me and my friends from our various outings and travels. I may decide to make separate albums for my trips and, almost certainly, my travels over the summer. I will keep you posted, but for now, enjoy!

-Andy

(44-46): Andy vs. The Noctilien

(44) is Friday, 19 February 2010

Today, I took a trip to the suburbs with the VWPP 'Scandal in Art' class (of which I'm not a member). We had lunch provided at a nice little bistro across from the MAC/VAL modern art museum in the suburb (that's English for "banlieue") of Vitry-sur-Seine, to the south of Paris. The bistro lunch had a prix-fixe menu of a glass of wine, chicken basquaise (made in the Basque regional tradition), and dessert (I chose a very good tarte aux pommes... sound familiar?). After lunch (the real reason I tagged along), we headed to the museum.

This was great fun. When it comes to modern art, I say the more bizarre the better. This is because, unless some sense of meaning immediately jumps out at me, I just laugh my way through the various exhibits. Perhaps my fondness for Ionesco and (on occasion) Beckett will put that in better perspective. But basically, while my friends were all getting frustrated about how the coat rack with coats in the middle of the room didn't make sense as art, I was just chuckling. Of course it doesn't make sense-- isn't that the point? Might as well laugh about it... since I'm not going to go to the trouble to study it or unpack it or study the theory behind it, laughing at the absurdity is as good as any other reaction, I suppose.

That evening, there was a small get-together for us VWPP kids and kids from the Lycee Hotelier (the cooking high school, if you remember) at Reid Hall. We had snacks and wine and then went to a Bar called Le Mazet, which is about a block north of Odeon. They had a Ladies' Night offer starting at 11: 6 euros for a shot and a cocktail. Split that with the female friend who makes the order, and you've got a gender-blind drink for 3 euros.

(45) is Saturday, 20 February 2010

I took it easy during the day to assuage a small cold. I also ate a baguette and brie, something I had been craving since my arrival. It was wonderful, and the bakery near my house sells great baguettes for less than a euro. Not unique to the bakery, but still wonderful.

I then got together with Liz, Aaron, Kirill, and Dan for dinner and vacation planning. I'm going to be in Madrid from March 1 to March 4 (in about a week). Then, in mid-late April, we looked up options for exploring Italy and the Greek islands. Awesome.

I didn't make the last metro, of course, so I had to find the Noctilien from Aaron's place. This was supposed to be easy: he's 2 miles from me and there was a bus that went directly there. No such luck. I never found that stop and had to make a transfer, which added another 20 minutes to the travel time.

This was all redeemed, however, once I got on the second bus. There was a guy playing the ukulele while his friends sang along. He played a bunch of French songs which I didn't know (although I did recognize the one about the Champs-Elysees). It was great fun. And THEN he started playing "Something" by the Beatles. Well, American that I was (still am? maybe?), I joined in. After a while, he started harmonizing and leaving me with the melody... it was great. I had such a wonderful time cruising back home and listening to a pretty talented musician-- all for free-- at who-knows-how-early in the morning.

(46) is today: Sunday, 21 February 2010

I slept in to compensate for my concert on the Noctilien, and then did things like Laundry and a little homework. Then, at about 7:30, my host mother knocked on my door and asked if I wanted to go bowling.

Uh, YEUSS!!!

So, we all went with the next-door neighbors. It was a lot of fun, and I came in second in two games. I think I will find my way back there, as it reminded me of alleys back home and is a bit cheaper (and brighter/less chic) than the alley on Rue Mouffetard.

So, we are now past the six-week mark. ...I don't really have anything to add to that. I was just pointing it out. I need to finish my homework.

-Andy

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There are no footnotes.

(42-43): Mes Ami(e)s!

So, the deal with the (e) in the title is that, in French, nouns are either masculine or feminine.

...Yeah, I don't really get it either. But, anyway, in cases of words like "ami,"* which could be someone of either gender, you add 'e' or some other suffix if the noun refers to a woman. Sort like writing "(s)he" when the gender of the person is unknown or irrelevant. Yes. Let's move ahead.

(42) is Wednesday, 17 February 2010

I made a friend today! And she's French! And she's big into movies and theater! Which is awesome!

I also had a good dinner near St. Michel and went to chorus rehearsal.

(43) is Thursday, 18 February 2010

I made more friends today! I just started chatting with my classmates, which was obviously intimidating enough for me to not do it ten or fifteen entries ago. But I did it, and these fellow Paris VII kids seem pretty neat. My 'Music in Cinema' professor actually gave me a little boost because every so often he'll make a note about an American composer or Hitchcock or Hollywood and-- because I introduced myself to him on the first day-- he knows I'm as American as Tarte aux pommes. So, he'll finish those thoughts with a comment to the class like "If you're curious, you can ask your American friend, here" and a gesture to me. Everyone chuckles, including me. Nice little icebreaker.

I also saw a friggin' weird production of A Streetcar Named Desire tonight. It was for a Reid Hall class I'm not taking, but as a member of the program, I got a ticket for 5 euros. This turned out to be a sweet deal, because I was in an orchestra section box with Tyler, Corinne, and Molly at the Odeon (perhaps the most beautiful theater in which I have ever seen a play). I had wanted to go because I read the play once and thought this translation would be more accessible than any other French play I had walked out of two weeks ago. Believe it or not, I was right... as far as the French went, anyway. I was completely lost, however, when it came to artistic design, production values, and other "formal qualities."**

They built a bowling alley into the stage-- which you can imagine I absolutely loved-- but the whole set was sterile and figurative and this French woman came out and did an English-language lounge act including "All By Myself" by Eric Carmen and they filmed the actors onstage and projected that onto the back wall and... yeah. Very... what's the Vassar word... "experimental." Apparently Blanche was a super-famous French actresses, though.

I am so tired because this has been a very long and very French week.

-Andy

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Footnotes

* It means "friend," in case your French teachers taught you nothing more useful than how to play petanque.

** I expect that exactly two people would both read this blog and know the genesis of that term. If there are three or more of you, however, please surprise me with a comment saying so. There are major bonus points in it for you if you do.

(41): Models in French ads are so much more attractive than models in American ones.

(41) is Tuesday, 16 February 2010

Since I didn't have class until 3:30, I decided to finally pay a visit to the Cluny museum (all about the Middle Ages) and perhaps my favorite work of art in the entire world. 'The Lady and the Unicorn' is a series of six tapestries, the last of which (commonly referred to by its in-tapestry caption "A mon seul desir"*) is featured at the Cluny. I saw it five years ago when I last visited Paris and I was simply spellbound. It's huge, it's over 500 years old, the colors are still vivid, the imagery is fantastic (not to mention fantastical), and I plan full well on going to see it again.

After all, the Cluny is closed on Tuesdays.

So, I went back outside and decided to explore this area, where I've come to spend a lot of time. I also put on my sunglasses. That's very important. I like my sunglasses. And I like when it's nice enough to wear them.

I found my way south a few blocks to the Jardins de Luxembourg, which I decided to stroll. No leaves on the trees yet, but there weren't any clouds either, so I took a few pictures and strolled anyway. I saw people playing tennis and petanque, the official sport of old French men.** It consists of throwing a little plastic ball across the gravel court and then tossing heavier metal balls to get as close as you can to the little one. Of course, you can hit other players' balls out of the way and even move the little guy.*** I bought lunch (salmon-spinach quiche and a chocolate tart) at the nearby Bread and Roses, a great little bakery and cafe at 62 Rue Madame, just a block west of the Jardins (and conveniently near Reid Hall). Sitting in the relative warmth, absolute sunshine, and leisure of watching people enjoying their spare time as I was enjoying mine was... perfect.

Did I mention the weather was gorgeous today?

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Footnotes

* "To my only desire"

** What's even funnier (or more tragic: up to you) is that I can see myself being totally into this game, as it's a distant cousin of bowling.

*** I had actually encountered this game before; my elementary school French teacher taught us to play one day. This is the only thing I've encountered in France that I can attribute to her having taught me. This is the woman who would periodically hand out simple translation worksheets, point to posters with conjugations of "to have" and "to be" and say (in French) "Remember! Remember the verbs!" to which my 7-year-old inner monologue would of course reply, "Right... What's a verb?" I also despair to remember that petanque-- the one thing I can credit her for-- came on the one day we went outside to play instead of listening to her in a classroom. Coincidence? Not a bloody chance.

(37): Où se trouve le Louvre?

(37) is Friday, 12 February 2010.

I spent a little too much time on Friday getting signed up at the local library. I don't mean for that to sound like the process isn't worth my time-- far from it-- but rather that if

--I show up at 1:15 PM on a Friday...

--I want a hot chocolate...

--I have all the right papers...

--I'm at all intelligent...

then,

--They should open before 2.

--The adjacent restaurant/cafe should serve drinks (instead of just lunch) before 2.

--Signing up with the receptionist lady should have gone just as smoothly as it did.*

--I should have saved myself 20 minutes by finding the Hitchcock DVDs sooner and then realizing before going back down 3 stories that I needed to get the actual discs upstairs.

But the point is, for 20 euros, I have yearlong membership to a library that lets me take out DVDs, books, and other things that will let me write my Hitchcock paper and do other fun academic (or movie-watching-ic) things. The free membership wouldn't have let me take any DVDs out of the building, and that's no fun.

So, after that, I found my way to the Louvre** along with Victoria and Dan (VWPP kids). We spent 3 hours (more or less) wandering the antiquities section. Lots of neat stuff: a mummy, a pillar from the palace of... I don't remember his name (and apparently I'm too lazy to even Google it), but he was the father of Xerxes and he lived a long time ago. There were also some great figurines and miniatures and such. We also found the Venus de Milo, Mona Lisa, Winged Victory (there's a great picture of me and Dan in front of it somewhere on Facebook), and more. Yeah: we kinda' mixed in some more classical European art, too.***

All in all, it was a fantastic afternoon, and I have decided that I will henceforth spend each Friday afternoon at a different museum (or different parts of the big ones like the Louvre). Those of you in a position to join me on such outings, do take note, and tell me where you'd like to visit.

At your own risk, however.

After the Louvre, we went over to Rue Mouffetard and Verre À Pied, the café Rhiannon, Yael, and I found the first day on that wonderful street. We had hot chocolate (delicious, as before), I had the best slice of apple tart I have yet had in Paris, and Victoria and Dan split an also very good crȇme brulée. We sat and chatted for about an hour or so before Dan left for host family dinner and Victoria and I rounded up supplies (like spaghetti, cheese, and cheap but good wine from wine sellers-- not cellars, mind you-- also on the street). Victoria had invited a few other VWPP people over to her host mother's apartment for a pasta dinner later.

That dinner, which didn't properly start until around 10, was great. We had spaghetti and wine, stir-fried broccoli and string beans, and these surprisingly tasty packaged Madeleines (which are lighter, but otherwise taste just like individual pound cakes). It was like we had dinner and French fortune cookies. About six of us just sat and enjoyed a great meal and conversation (both of which we made all by ourselves!) for a couple of hours. This is what young people do, right?

I then got a call from Kirill and Liz, who invited me along to a bar near Chatelet. I decided to say my goodbyes and tag along, but by the time I found this neat little bar (whose address and name I missed), I was more in the mood to catch the last train home.

It's neat to have that option... I would take the Noctilien the next night (also from Chatelet), because I made the decision to stay out late with friends. While my college experience in the states doesn't exclude that choice, it never feels quite as clear when classes are more impending and you're always close enough to where you live to feel that magnetic pull of your bed and the responsibility symbolized by having to get up out of it (also feeling the bed's magnetic pull) the next morning.

Here's my point: one of my favorite days so far in Paris was composed of seeing a museum, conversing with friends, making and sharing a simple dinner at someone's apartment, and going out for as long as I felt like. Paris is where I am learning, if little else, how to be young.

-Andy

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Footnotes.

* Bet you thought that one was gonna' be a complaint. Didn't 'cha. Yeah. Yeah, you did.

** The title, courtesy of Jenae Cohn, is a tounge-twister, a sentence made more maddening by the fact that it translates simply to "Where's the Louvre?"

*** A warning for my dear readers... Never go to a museum with me. Unless I'm seriously into whatever exhibit (remember, that's exposition) I'm looking at, I will crack jokes-- very few of them funny-- about whatever decides to sit on the wall in front of me. Combined with my relatively quick cruise speed of most museums, I can guarantee you this. Touring a museum in my company will be one of the least satisfying, most obnoxious, and-- except for my rare moments of lucidity before a work I find striking-- intellectually degrading experiences it will ever be your misfortune to endure.

(35): Weird Day

(35) is 10 February, 2010

So, I went to Hitchcock class today, which was good: I understood a solid 90% of what the teacher was saying. This would be even better if it had something to do with my course grade (all in my 'Color in Hitchcock' paper). I was also a little tired, so that kind of put a damper on the experience.

I'm also really shy, apparently. I've had something of a tough time meeting French people my age. It's really tough for me to start a conversation with them because they all know each other so well and immediately group into impregnable* conversation circles. Plus, I'm, well, me... I don't know.

So, after class, I decided to go see a movie to brighten my spirits. I had seen the trailer for Percy Jackson and the Olympians; it came out today and I had thought it looked like fun, so I walked over to the movie theater near Paris VII. They didn't have it, so I decided I should brush up on my French anyway and bought a ticket for something simply because one of my professors said it looked good and because Gerard Depardieu is in it.**

So, I go in and sit down***, and the trailers come on... mostly American films, which is weird, but whatever, and then the little clip ("seal?" "trademark?") for Lionsgate appears. I'm film major enough to know that that's an American company, so I figure they must have collaborated. Then, there are marines-- the American kind-- marching across the screen. Uh-oh, I realize, I can't believe this; I've walked into the wrong movie. But, if I'm not watching L'Autre Dumas, then what am I--OH NO.

And before you could say "Tobey McGuire," I realized I'd sat down for Brothers.

Well, the other movie had almost certainly started already, and I wasn't about to walk out on a 6-euro investment. So, I watched it. It was every bit as way-too-serious as I knew it would be. Not that Afghanistan and PTSD aren't serious, but it was serious in the same way every movie released between mid-November and the Oscar nominations is serious. Revolutionary Road serious and Doubt serious and Nicholas Cage wishes he were this serious. So, I spent the two hours laughing inappropriately (and laughing my inappropriately American laugh) at how seriously this movie is taking itself and at the casting choices. Jake Gyllenhaal was pretty good and Natalie Portman was pretty... pretty. But Tobey... ah, Tobey. Tobey gave my inner commentary a field day.

"Who am I? I'm ANGRY Spider-Man!"

Yes, well, enough about that. I then grabbed Greek food near St. Michel with Rhiannon, Becky, and Aaron. Rhiannon and I didn't have much time to eat because we were going to the chorus she's singing in for a class at Paris IV. I agreed to try it because they needed baritones and I figured it would be a good way to meet French people. I was really nervous, but after a while I realized I was doing pretty well for my first time and that these people seemed more relaxed and friendly than most of the other students I'd yet encountered. We're also singing some really beautiful music**** and it's really good to have a friend there doing this with me. I think I'll stick with it.

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Footnotes. I wonder where in a document the "earnotes" would go?

* Not a French word: just a very uncommon English one. It doesn't mean what you think it means, but then again, it's kind of close.

** Flight of the Conchords references. Go.

*** Sorry to keep dragging you back here, but I want to make a note about the MK2 chain. They have these great movie seats: comfy like a sofa, and only every other armrest folds up. Basically, this theater is made up of a bunch of loveseats: perfect for couples going to "watch" a movie. Only in Paris. I cannot begin to tell you how much annoyance this would have saved me the last time I took a girl to the movies back in the States.

**** Including some Mendelsohn, with lyrics in German. German! I'm an American student in France singing music in German... Oh, what a day.

(31): The Scavenger Hunt

(31) is Saturday, 6 February 2010

A bunch of us had spent the last week organizing and compiling a list of items for a treasure hunt that was to (and did!) take place on Saturday. The rules were simple: 2 people to a team (except for my team of 3), 4 hours (4-8 PM) to take as many pictures of things on the list as possible, and we all meet at St. Michel fountain (where all the cool people meet all their cool friends) afterward to find dinner and exchange pictures, award points, and tell stories.

A few items from the list, just to give you a sense of what kind of crazy people I'm dealing with. This isn't all of them, and the pictures don't all match up.

--A picture of the Eiffel Tower taken from a moving metro train

--A candid picture of rival team members unaware you're photographing them

--A street sign from each arrondissement of Paris (bonus if you get them all)

--Most unfortunate name for a building, business, etc.*

--A picture of the Arc de Triomphe and a picture of the Great Mosque of Paris taken within 20 minutes of each other

--A French couple making out (see picture below featuring Liz MacLachlan)

We stayed mostly in the center of Paris (arrondissements 1-6). We picked up a few pictures having to do with Notre Dame, St. Michel Fountain, and side streets (as you might have guessed, half of the items on the list weren't location specific). After a while, we found ourselves wandering in the strangest vacuum of a district I've ever seen: we were in the center of Paris, and yet we couldn't find a bloody metro station to take us to our next destination. Finally, we found one, and Liz split off from me and Stephanie to change shoes at home and take pictures of a few arrondissement street signs while Stephanie and I got a few specific items (like the Eiffel Tower shot and a street named for a famous American... JFK boulevard is serendipitously near the metro required for the Tower train shot).

We finished and met up at St. Michel, where we found a surprisingly good prix fixe dinner for 14,50 euros; I had mussels, salmon, and apple tart. All quite good, especially for the price. The best part, though, was trading stories and debating who took the funniest picture**, the picture of the most attractive people in Paris, and other such things. Lizzie and Allie won by a few points, but we were all winners because-- in this chasse au tresor-- the real treasure was friendship.

Aww.

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Photo Tags

Top of the entry: Another off-list picture, but one I liked. It translates to "Welcome to France."

From top to bottom below...

--LizMac and a member of a street band playing in front of Notre Dame. I only wish I had captured the tuba player's impromptu, mime-ish dance that followed.

--Blown glass store that caught my eye. No scavenger hunt points, but big artsy points.

--LizMac and the Parisian couple. There you are, Liz. I hope you're satisfied.

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Footnotes

* I took the winning photo for that one. And, no, I'm not going to tell you what it is here. Shoot me an email or Facebook message or something if you're really curious.

** We won that as well, for another picture I have prudently kept off the internet.

(30): I'm on a Boat!

(30) is Friday, 5 February 2010

I didn't do much during the day Friday, so this entry is really just to talk about how I went to a party Friday night for students in Paris, hosted by ERASMUS (international study abroad or something like that).

Never thought it'd be on a boat... on a big, blue, watery road. Poseidon, look at me!

A lot of people were there, and they had pretty cheap drinks and dancing. It was great. And, while it didn't hoist anchor and cruise the Seine, I can assure you:

This boat is REAL!

(28-29): This is why-- This is why-- This is why I'm... Abroad.

(28) is Wednesday, 3 February 2010

Real quick for this one: I went to my Paris VII Hitchcock class today and got the paper topic that will determine my course grade: "color in Hitchcock." Professor said I could write about pretty much whatever I wanted, so if you happen to know a good Hitchcock movie that would help me along here, please share.

After class, I went home and had dinner with the kids because my host parents went out for the evening. Apparently the whole 'make your own food at the table' phenomenon is, in fact, a phenomenon. A slightly different hotplate with six circular recesses on the surface was employed to make miniature crepes. With bacon and cheese. And, for dessert, crepes with honey, sugar, and/or the maple syrup I brought them as a gift when I arrived. The boys and I talked about school and their sports and just had a nice time. It was a great meal.

(29) is Thursday, 4 February 2010

I went to Music in Cinema (a lot about classical music... hmm.) and then my friend Aaron and I went to a play (a comedy called Hors Piste*) for which he had finagled free tickets. That was really a stroke of luck; we got free theater!

Also, we both agreed that putting down money for that show would have been a travesty.

The audience seemed to be laughing hysterically, which, you know, mazel tov... for them. but Aaron and I were left understanding maybe every fifth word of this farce about five people taking a weekend at a ski lodge. Characters were pretty two-dimensional and the play didn't seem to be about anything. There was also no intermission in this play lasting 2+ hours, which I as a theater person found strange, but maybe that's a French thing: two of my friends went to a different show recently and reported the same marathon approach.

After two hours, Aaron and I left early to meet some friends from last weekend's loft party at an Irish pub just off the Champs-Elysees. It was student night, so the place was pretty hopping.** Only trouble was that I missed the last metro, so I had to navigate the Noctillien bus system. Paris has this bus network that runs when the trains don't*** and covers all the same stops. Trouble is, they don't tell you exactly where on the Champs to find the 'Champs-Elysees' bus stop, and that's a long street to wander... in the rain... Anyway, I finally figured it out. Suffice it to say, there's a reason I've always loved trains.

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Footnotes

* This is an English term, too, apparently: "off-piste" is a kind of skiing that's slightly off of marked slopes or courses.

** Though not as much as tonight (Sunday, 7 Feb.) when they start airing the Super Bowl at midnight.

*** The trains, best I can tell, run until 2 or maybe 2:30 AM on Friday and Saturday nights and until midnight or a little later other nights. Trains reopen at 5:30 or 6 each morning.

(24-26): Bar, Food

(24) is Saturday, 30 January 2010

For dinner, a bunch of us checked out the Latin Quarter (near Metro Saint-Michel)... there's this one narrow street jammed with restaurants and pedestrians. Maitre-Ds (I still don't know what that means or why they're called that) stand outside and bargain for your patronage. 8 students ended up snagging a 9-euro, three-course meal with 3 free glasses of Sangria per person. 'Nuff said.

Afterward, we went to a bar near Odeon metro. Bar, simply enough named, is on the Rue de l'Ancienne Comedie. Drinks are rather pricey (though quite good), but it's got this neat basement... almost a cellar, really... that they've turned into a second bar and a dance space with a DJ. Lot of young 20-or-so's down here, and there's no cover charge before 11. Just look out for the mean coat check woman... then again, if you're not our friend Kirill, you've probably got nothing to worry about.*

(25) was a Sunday... not much happened. There was bowling, but-- Trust me, we would do better here to move ahead.

(26) is Monday, 1 February 2010

For my "Reacting to France Today" class (my "writing intensive" one), we went to lunch at the Lycée Hotelier, a vocational high school (in French, high school is lycée, which almost rhymes with cliché). This is like a typical high school: they study standard things, but they also spend one day per week either cooking or serving in a functioning, reservations-only restaurant. The main course of duck was pretty good, but some things (like an artichoke salad and weird vegetable yogurt hors-d'oeuvre)... Well, let's just say that I hoped this week's chefs were being graded on a curve.

After lunch, they showed us around the school, including to a part of the building with hotel rooms that the students practice cleaning and preparing-- that is, those of them planning to go into the hotel business. If you feel anxiety about whether or not you're going to be successful with your major, I'm sorry to belittle that crisis, but you've got nothing on a French kid. These folks pick a career even earlier and, once they do, they stick with it. When you are dressing up and waiting tables in English as a second language at the ripe old age of 16, you're pretty much locked in.

Voulez-vous des frites avec ça?

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Footnotes.

*Twice this woman sent him to the back of the line. Poor kid.

(21-23): You Know, I'm Starting to Think I've Dug Myself a Hole With This Whole Title Thing.

(21) is Wednesday, 27 January 2010 and my goodness am I running behind.

Wednesday (still in my first week of class), I went to my Alfred Hitchcock class at Paris VII. I like it... well, okay, I like Hitchcock and I like being the one with the best understanding of these films in the classroom. Of the various classes I'm taking, I think I understand this professor least... he moves kinda' quickly and I have a hard time following his train of thought. I'll be doing my best to pay attention and take notes, and I'll understand what he's saying, but I will have no idea what it has to do with the other things he's discussed or where the lecture is going.* At the end of class, we watched a clip of Psycho... boy, these French film professors love themselves some opening credits.

After class, I met up with a few Sidwell friends (ha! That was a pun!) who are in Paris on various programs this semester. We had dinner at La Volcan, a nice little bistro at the top of the hill on Rue Mouffetard. I had a delicious order of mussels and fries (that's 'frites' over here... rhymes with "fleets") and, after I tasted Lumay's dessert, I decided I couldn't pass it up. The Charlotte au Chocolat is a patty (right word?) of chocolate mousse framed (literally) with vanilla pound cake and bathed in a heart-achingly good creme anglaise.** This and the Pierre Herme Macaroons (The official delicacies of posthumous Oscar recipients, in case you'd forgotten) are about tied for best dessert I have had here so far.

(22) is Thursday, 28 January 2010

Thursday (still in my first week of class), I went to my Music in Cinema class at Paris VII. I like it... well, okay, I like Hitch-- ...oh. Ha.

My 'Music in Cinema' class is great; the professor is a musician who taught at... I wanna' say Penn?... for a year and taught us a little about Baroque through present instrumental music just by way of introduction, and we ended up listening to the opening of Casablanca among other things. We discussed how the visuals of the movie will determine a soundtrack more than anything else. The result, apparent when you listen to the soundtrack alone, is music that completely ignores music theory, classical style, and other academic words for "the sorta' stuff normal composers do." More of this fun*** sort of analysis to come, I hope. This is another class, I should add, that doesn't seem to believe in homework: no syllabus, no suggested books, no suggested music, and I asked the professor about midterms and finals. He has no idea. Rock on.

I'm told the goal on the no-homework thing is for students to be "independent"... something about being motivated enough to educate yourself? I'm still (even on day (28)) trying to get my head around this one.

After class, a few of us celebrated Liz's birthday by treating her to Indian food on Rue Moufetard. Good food, affordable... I'd recommend it, but it's just one of the many things that earns the entire street its recommendation. Another such thing was one of the many crepe stands that earned itself our money after dinner.

(23) is Friday, 29 January 2010

We didn't do much Friday (but watch me write at least two huge paragraphs about it anyway). We tried to go to the movies in the afternoon, but every movie theater (I think I'll refer to them as "cinemas" from here on out) seems to show all its movies at the same times. So, if you just missed the start of your movie, well désolé, but you're in a two-hour vacuum for basically all of them. I don't know why this is, but we disbanded. Liz and I did end up seeing something, however, and the posters and trailer for it had intrigued me since I saw them shortly after my arrival. I've been recommending this extremely obscure film to everyone since, so bear with me if I've already told you to watch the trailer at this web address:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6-xxAp7Hg0k

I'll try not to dwell on it too long, but Mr. Nobody was incredible: beautifully filmed, well-written, and nothing short of a marvel in terms of editing. That's because this movie is one of those ones where you're going back and forth among a bunch of different stories/realities and half the fun is figuring out why you're seeing what you're seeing. In my opinion, the ending brought it all together splendidly, even if that 'all together' could have lost 20-30 minutes between the middle and the end.

Well, I tried not to dwell on it, anyway...

That evening, that same bunch of us (plus Kirill, our new friend through Aaron) went to a party hosted by fellow JYA students from other schools and programs. It was at this great loft apartment that a few of them share-- it has a two-story living room with a big staircase in the middle, all in concrete but it actually made concrete work, and a good (and largely attractive) 40-50 people there... this is one of those parties you think only happens on TV (and... other people's blogs?) until you get to go to one yourself.

Speaking of parties-- I'm rather baffled about this one, but I've heard "I've Got a Feelin'", "Bad Romance", and (which of these is not like the others?) "La Bamba" more times in my weeks here than in my years in the U.S. I have the metro to thank for that last one.

(24) is... not in this entry. But 24 is a TV show you may know that many Parisians are just now getting to know. And they like a lot, from what I hear. No, the blog sub-entry (24) will be back after these messages.

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Footnotes

* Fortunately, today's class would render this a non-issue. Stay tuned!

** It was probably "heart-attackingly" good, too...

*** That was not sarcastic. And the Florida polls are in: I'm a nerd.